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Monday, October 31, 2005

Hot Blogger Guy - Is that You?

"Strangers are family you are yet to come to know."

The other day, a gorgeous Kuwaiti guy in a hot sports car allowed me into traffic. I thought, ‘Wow. What a nice guy.’ So, I did my normal thing and waved ‘thank you’. He was handsome and seemed a little on the serious side and I couldn’t help looking in my rear-view mirror at him. Yummy. I sped off to Kuwait Friendly House to do some trans-actin', and thought nothing more about it until I get an e-mail from a fellow blogger saying that it was him (he knows my car). What a shocker that was. You can never be too nice to people because you never know who they are going to be (except for the buttface who continually cut me off in his brown 745i this morning and then slammed on his brakes. He can go to Hell.)

Another day, I was down in Hawalli (which really has not-too-much-to-do with the paragraph above) and a Kuwaiti guy in a 4x stopped to let me into the traffic circle. I waved ‘thank you’ and he waved back frantically with both hands. Now, dude could have been mimicking me (and most likely was; a blonde thing, perhaps?), but it sent me into a giggle fit and I thought it was really cute. A little queer-looking for a big man to do, but funny.

Hot Blogger Guy reminded me that most women in Kuwait don’t wave ‘thank you’ in traffic because they think they are going to be hit on by male motorists; which, I’ve got to agree, is generally true. If you wave (or sneeze, or adjust your mirror, or pick your nose), it is almost like an invitation for them to come follow you. But I figure – I don’t give a schmidt because I am nice and I am going to stay that way no matter where I am. I always wave ‘thank you’. Ladies, what are your thoughts?

I’m off to Bahrain this weekend with the Romanian for a weekend of alcohol, dancing, and men of little virtue (not that there isn't plenty of all that here at home). I can’t wait. I should have more to write about when I get back. I haven’t been to Bahrain in years, since most of my Bahraini gang split up, moved on, or got married. I still can't believe my 38 year old, crazy F-16 pilot friend married an 18 year old. Dude! The only one left is a very nice body-builder type who took too many steroids and had one too many plush toys in his apartment. Hopefully, he got rid of the toys and off of the roids. If not, I can always flirt with Saudis (always good for instant ego boosting - especially when they just stand there staring at you with their mouths open).

Eid mubarak, y’all.

Monday, October 17, 2005

Quick Restaurant Note

I discovered a new place last night. I had been to their indoor restaurant before, but last night, I discovered their outdoor seating and it is very cool. The restaurant is Madrigal (2448000) in Shaab. The seating is in little tents for groups. Each tent has its own air conditioning, TV, and living-room type seats. Unfortunately, our tent was kind of hot because the AC wasn't working very well. The restaurant has a varied menu (with pictures - yeah!) with Arabic, Indian, Thai, and Chinese cuisine at very reasonable prices. They also do delivery. It was cool to see so many upscale Kuwaiti women hanging out in the tents, smoking sheesha (probably for privacy) with friends. You go, girls! :)

Sunday, October 16, 2005

Gergian, Gergiaaaan….

Yesterday was gergian. Since I am neither Kuwaiti nor a child and could get away with going door-to-door singing (ok, in some neighborhoods that might actually be welcomed) and asking for sweets or money (again… in some neighborhoods….) – yesterday as a special treat I did the following: I dressed up like a ninja chick (tons of eye make-up) with my 2 girlfriends in a non-descript rental car, sporting a sign on the back window that said, "Bad Girl", and proceeded to Kout mall for coffee. Obviously, this was a stupid idea on several levels (wrong, wrong, wrong), but all 3 of us had:

1) nothing to do and were bored sh*&less,
2) were looking for a good belly laugh,
3) were in possession of a non-descript rental car, and
4) were scoping for guys.

We set out in full gear, including the proper scents (bkhoor and dayn al oud), hooker shoes, too much jewelry, etc.

We were immediately met with a delay in our plan: Some woman parked her car next to Romanian's with zero clearance; meaning it was parked up against her car without clearance for Romanian to get hers out without ripping the rear quarter panels off of both cars. I had to call my building harriss. He took one look at me and started laughing. Sheeshagirl told him that we were going to a funeral and that it wasn't funny (making me giggle even harder, but hey – you couldn't tell cause I was ninja-fied). The harriss called over a couple other guys standing there and they literally picked up the back of the other car and moved it out of the way. Very impressive.

So, we were on our way with the air conditioning on high. We got down to Kout and were only followed by 1 car. Kinda lame.

We got out and walked/shuffled into the mall. I had to pee (which is kind of difficult with all that stuff on). Then we went to have juice/coffee. We decided to sit outside to watch the dancing waters. They also had a very good oud player across the water. It was very relaxing and pretty, but damn hot and humid. It is also real hard to get a straw up one of those niqabs. I was sweating most of my eye makeup off. At Costa, we had several tables of admirers, but all of them jailbait (well, maybe not here, but way too young). We sat there for a while, getting some lame Bluetooth messages and then hit the road with "Don't Cha" by the Pussycat Girls blaring at full blast.

The height of the evening came when we saw some young boys whose car had broken down. We came to a screeching halt and stopped to ask them if they needed anything (in Arabic). They were so stunned that none of them spoke; just stared. We floored it and went home.

Saturday, October 01, 2005

Another Weekend in Paradise

Wednesday night, I went with most of the gang to Gauchos. Everyone was pretty much on their best behavior. I think I am figuring out Plane Girl. I think she likes stirring up the drama where there is none. At Gaucho, she changed her seat literally 5 times. She didn’t like 2 of the chairs. That much I could figure out. One of the times, she got up, walked around the table to tell me, “Your friend (X) has stinky breath. I can’t sit next to him to eat.” I’m like, “YO! What do you want me to DO???” (Shoulda told her to go plant her ass in the parking lot.) I don’t want to hear about anybody’s stinky breath at the dinner table. Funk dat. Anyhoo, we got through that part. Then, the food literally took an hour and 15 minutes to arrive. I like the restaurant. I like the food. I like the service. I think they just had a bad night or something (however, didn’t bother to take anything off the bill or give us a discount after the wait). I’m not a nice person when I don’t get fed when I’m hungry. It isn’t pretty. Thank God that Bunny was there to calm me down and distract me (he’s got kids, so he knows what a 3 year old is like waiting to get food). Food finally arrived; I ate my baked sweet potato and all was right in my world again. The bill came and Planegirl started her quibbling (which – especially from a chick – is really just ayeb). Bobarino told her to shut up. Literally. I think she liked it. (Who’s your daddy, who’s your daddy?) They had a little flirt workin’. Bobarino’s girlfriend, Fishgirl, was on one side of him; Planegirl was on the other. Fishgirl was not impressed. I love the show.

I’ve been back here for 10 days. So far, my car has been in the shop 3 times. I’ve been trying to find a lease Trailblazer or Envoy, but they don’t have any in stock. If you know where I can get one, please let me know (amerab@gmail.com). It started giving me problems Wednesday night and back in the shop again today. BITCH!!!! Still F-ing me and taking all my money.

So after the dinner, I ‘scaped and headed with the Romanian down to a party in Fintas. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz BORING. I’m so sick of gaadat in Kuwait. “You have to come. It is going to be so much fun. There are a lot of nice looking guys…” Bullshit. There was 1 good looking guy (who wasn't 12 years old) and he was drunk and sitting with a ho (who later changed from her slutsuit into an actual belly dancing costume and wiggled all over the room). I can see that in my bathroom. Not interested. The only thing that truly fascinated me was one very wiggly little girl. She looked like a pixy or something – like Tinkerbell. I’ve never seen anybody dance like that for so long. She was all wiggly like in a music video; Mexican jumping beans in her butt or something. Fascinating. How could she do that for 3 hours? (I only stayed that long because Romanian and her sister believe that Ramadan is the end of the world and they have to drink/party as much as they can the week before or they will die.) I sat next to a rather rotund Egyptian dentist who wouldn’t stop staring and trying to get me more “wine” (1 part red grape vinegar, 4 parts water, ice). Puhleeeeeeze! My friend, GD, kept saying, “He’s a dentist. He’s a dentist.” Hel-loooooo – BFD!!!!! (Yeah Purgy baby – that one’s for you!) I mean – do I care if he’s a dentist? Romanian’s comment was, “I don’t need a dentist. I want a plastic surgeon.” Obee kaybee.

So den Thursday night – what the hell did I do? Oh yeah. I went with Romanian back to Sakura for sushi. I saw a guy who I used to work with and his wife. He actually moved their seats so they could sit directly in front of us at the tepanyaki table. It would have been ok if I had been close to the guy when I worked there or he was a friend (he's neither), but I just found it kind of weird that he would move his poor wife so he was sitting opposite my cleavage. His wife was a sweetheart. Very nice woman with an icky-breaststs-ogling husband. We went upstairs for coffee to “I Am Zee Man” (as I call it). We both got quite a few bluetooth messages – some of them pretty creative/funny. A table of mens next to us sent us some birthday cake (cake is always a good move in my books). Went home.

Now yesterday was fun. MuslimArtist threw a shindig at her auntie’s chalet (which is worthy of “Cribs”). Damn, it was a beautiful place. Minimalist furnishings and very elegant. By the way, MA, I got a look at the plates in the kitchen and they are so pretty; everything went together so well. The food was awesome. MA can cooks some vittles! Jumbo shrimp and Bobarino marinated some chicken breasts (breasts – go figure). We had some laughs and some food and then went swimming in the sea (not the ba-mungous indoor pool). MA picked up a whole bunch of sand dollars (MURDERER!), which I have never seen live in Kuwait. Romanian actually got on the jet ski with Salongirl and her hubby, T. She didn’t put down her cigarette or ask anyone to hold her Armani sunglasses – both were lost in the Big Jetski Spill. I kinda forgot that Romanian doesn’t know how to swim or I wouldn’t have been laughing my ass off (so much). Even Desertdawg was swimming in her florescent pink doggy life vest (she is so small that it is too much on her little heart to swim out in the water). MA’s aunt’s big-fat-dog, Laser, was also swimming effortlessly. It was the first time that I’ve ever seen Desertdawg actually even remotely try to be nice to another dog. I was shocked. She’s usually such a bitch (gets all snarly and snappy – don’t know where she gets that). Everything about the day was right: nice weather, great company, yummy food. No mens for me, but I am almost to the point where I am used to that now.

Can you believe it is October 1 already? Where is this year going and what tha fuuu have I accomplished???