Sunday, December 16, 2007

Happy Place.... Go to the Happy Place....

I’ve been so busy lately that I haven’t had a whole lot of time to blog – which I can’t really determine is a good thing or a bad thing. I’ve had to work on prequalification tenders (with people who are unwilling to provide me with information), our annual report, and at the same time, dealing with the Chinese. It is all very confusing – oh, and that is just in my business life.

Personal life has taken equally as confusing turns of late. I’ve been meeting men left and right (again – good thing or bad thing?). Colonel Boring is most definitely out of the picture. He was a boring PERV and I had to deal with that and get rid of him. Ick. I don’t know what the deal is with the men in uniform again, but I’ve met policemen lately in droves – and they’re all higher-ranking officers. As Bunny says, “Never date below a Major.” Tee hee. I love him. The Romanian says, “Never date below a Range Rover,” which is equally as funny. Anyhoo, I’ve met some really really nice people lately and I’m grateful for that. There is one guy in particular that I like a lot; we’ll have to see what happens before I jinx myself or someone gives me the evil eye. He's just dreamy....

I feel really bad about something that happened on Friday night. I was driving on the Gulf Road (is that the proper name?) in Salwa almost at Messila Hotel in the left lane and there was a cat that had been hit by a car. I was in heavy traffic and very late to meet our company’s CEO and wife for dinner. I couldn’t safely stop. (These are all excuses.) The cat looked up at me with “help me” eyes. Slapperella was with me and not being a big cat lover, I don’t think she wanted me to go back to try to get it. Anyways, I continued on; and ever since, have been haunted by those eyes. I feel so bad even thinking about it, I am getting teary-eyed. I drove back the next morning and there was no sign of it, so I hope that someone else stopped to pick it up somehow. I don’t even like cats, but I always try to help any living creature, so I now feel awful. I have tried to make up for it by cooking chicken to feed to the neighborhood strays. There were about 400 of them (I exaggerate) around the chicken when I looked back. Then, I started to wonder if I had done something equally as bad by feeding whole cooked chickens to cats: would they choke on the bones and die in some horrific manner? I have such a guilty conscience.

I met with a rep from United. He is a really nice guy and says that he is going to try to make me feel better about being punched by a passenger on one of their flights (yes, you read it right): She punched me after I moved her bags from under my feet and then must have accused me of being a racist (to the best of my knowledge because I can’t figure out what happened) ; no one did anything. She said, "How would you feel if a black woman touched your bag?" Um, I probably wouldn't want her feet on it, so I wouldn't mind. I wouldn't care if the person was green or blue either. The worst thing was that the United staff did nothing to help me – even when I told them I was in pain. As it turns out, we made the local news in Washington, DC that night because they called security, TSA’s, United ground staff, and the local police. I was so traumatized by all this that I don’t even want to get further into it. The Kuwait side United staff is trying to make it better; I have heard nothing at all from United state-side. It may just take time.

I don’t know if I want to get into the concept of racial issues in the States vs. what we have in Kuwait. It is all so weird. Ok, we do have other issues in Kuwait (other than black and white), but still . . . Why can’t we all just get along?

Go to your happy place, Desert Girl.

Ok, I’ll go there in a minute, but not before mentioning other weirdness that happened this weekend. Why does this kind of shit happen to ME?: I was peacefully asleep at 8am on Friday morning, when I got a call from an Iraq number. It went to voice mail. 10 minutes later, the same number called again (waking up Desert Dawg also), so I picked it up. It was an American guy who I knew from (that logistics company I used to work for). He got fired from there; I helped him get his next job at KGL; where he also got fired. I helped him get a job with a Kuwaiti friend’s logistics company; where he had a dispute with my friend and moved on. I helped him with several consulting jobs also before he moved up to Iraq. This all happened within a period of 4 years. So, Dude calls me and says, “WHAT did you send to my wife? She’s ready to divorce me! You sent her something that said we were having an affair? How could you be so cruel before Christmas?” Holy shit – what did I do? I shook off the sleep and said, “Dude, we have a business relationship. I sent out 200 Christmas and Eid cards this year saying exactly the same thing, ‘Best wishes to you and your family for a Merry Christmas (or Eid or Hanukah or Kwanza), (Desert Girl).” Pretty straight-forward, no? {sidebar: Why doesn’t MS spell check recognize “Eid” and it does recognize “Hanukah”? Is it a conspiracy?} He said, “My wife thinks we are having an affair. There was some girl’s name on the card!” WTF? Is it just me or is someone’s imagination running away with them? I said, ‘Dude, my name is (Desert Girl). That is the way I sign my correspondence. Your marital problems are none of my business. You definitely won’t be receiving another Christmas card from me. Why don’t you have her scan the card and e-mail it to you so you can see exactly what I wrote? Further, if I were a male business associate, would you be calling me up accusing me of something?’ I went on to tell him that he was a sexist pig and that if he ever contacted me again for anything, I would consider it a form of harassment. Weird, cause I met his wife. Maybe she thinks I’m hot and she’s insecure (?) Dunno.

‘Best wishes to you and your family for a Merry Christmas (or Eid or Hanuka or Kwanza), (Desert Girl) can be translated (apparently) to: Dude, I want to rip your clothes off and make wild passionate love to you. I so enjoy our affair because I love tall, skinny, long-toothed, red-haired white guys with no redeeming personality traits. Yeah, that’s right.

Why are people so phucking stupid? I still don’t get it.

Happy place, happy place, happy place. I ate a mountain of chocolate this weekend (its ok because it is close to Christmas when calories don't count). Yum. Oh, and some sushi. And I flirted with handsome sexy men. And I am going on vacation in a few days…. Ooooooh saaaaaaah…..

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Take Control of Eggs!

That sounds vaguely dirty, doesn't it? Me likes.
“Ministry Official Calls for More Control of Egg Market…”

I love eggs and now that they have a lot of controversy over egg prices in Kuwait, I feel that this would be an appropriate time to discuss them. I mean, WTF – forget the corruption and human rights issues that should be big news (but often isn’t), let’s talk about eggs in Kuwait!

The Undersecretary of the Commerce and Industry Ministry (who I’ve met and is actually an articulate and very nice guy), stated that authorities would not stand idle from now on and watch the price of eggs continue to rise and get out of hand. YEAH BAYBEEE! You go, boy! He’s my new eggstraspecial egg hero.

First of all, why tha phuck don’t they have big eggs in Kuwait? Who wants to pay big money for little eggs? I’m not a small egg kind of girl. Why are all of them small and nasty? In the USofHey we have bigass eggs; the kind with TWO yokes in them.

I am one of those people who likes my eggs cooked “sunny side up” with the yokes left relatively uncooked. I know, salmonella fans, it is probably not a healthy choice, but it is my preference. (Just like my unhealthy preference of “bad boys” over boring.) Anyhoo, I can never eat a sunny-side-up egg without toast underneath to sop up the yoke. Yummy; Getting hungry just thinking about it. Therefore, the idea of double yokes is quite appealing to me.

So, it brings me back to my question of why Kuwait has small, smelly eggs? Why can’t we get some big chickens over here? Why can’t we get companies to properly wash eggs so they don’t shtank when you get them? I don't mind paying more for eggs if they are good ones.

I have eggzactly 1 week left before I fly to Virginia and I can have a choice of eggs. I'm on short-timers so everything is sounding funny to me right now.

Thursday, December 06, 2007

December 6, 2007

Happy Birthday, Shamlan.

It has been 10 years since you passed away and there is still not a time when I don't think of you. I see you in that place between asleep and awake. You hold my hand and laugh with me and I know that we will see each other again on the other side.

Ten years have passed and it seems like yesterday. Love always goes on.

I miss you.

Tuesday, December 04, 2007

On the Subject of Kisses

Ironically, CNN online today posts an article about kissing. This follows an encounter I had last night with "Smash Mouth": a very tall, very gorgeous guy who attempted to kiss me by imposing my head in a death-grip and smashing his closed mouth against mine, rubbing back and forth. Ew and ouch. Needless to say, Smashmouth will never make it out of The Friend Zone. End of story.

I agree with CNN that the best relationships I've ever had were with guys who were really great kissers. Even if they needed work in other areas, if they could kiss, we were compatible.

The Man was a great kisser. I miss those kind of kisses; the kind that wrap around you and make you feel like you're floating off somewhere. ..... I digress.....

CNN Say:

(LifeWire) -- Bad kissers -- we've all locked lips with one: the lizard, the washing machine, the cannibal, the spelunker.

"I knew this girl that I'll call Big Tongue," recalls Craig Hinkle, 38, a Westminster, California-based network administrator. "Her tongue was massive, and she insisted on trying to put the entire thing in my mouth. She was very forceful with it, and I started choking."

You can guess that relationship didn't last. And now, what Hinkle knows from experience is actually backed up by science: Bad kissers have little chance of getting to second base.
In a study published recently in the scientific journal "Evolutionary Psychology," 59 percent of men and 66 percent of women said they've been in the position of being attracted to someone -- until they kissed the person.

"At the moment of the kiss, there's a very complicated exchange of information ... that may tap into underlying evolved mechanisms" cluing us in on whether we're genetically compatible, explains Gordon Gallup, co-author of the study and professor of psychology at the State University of New York at Albany. "A kiss can be a deal-breaker in terms of whether a relationship will flower or flounder, so to speak."

Rachel Myeroff, 26, can attest to that. On a second date with a guy, says the New York City-based sales manager, "he just went in for it and attached himself to me in the sloppiest, most horrible kiss ever. He was just consuming my mouth. I most definitely did not call him again."

Gallup's research suggests that men and women have different agendas when it comes to kissing, an act that occurs in 95 percent of human societies and is believed to have been first recorded in Vedic Sanskrit texts around 1500 B.C. in India.

For men, kissing is more often used as a means to an end -- namely, to gain sexual access. Men also are more likely to literally kiss and make up, using kissing to attempt reconciliation.

Women on the other hand use kissing as a mate-assessment technique, Gallup notes. They subconsciously evaluate mating potential from the chemicals in their partner's saliva and breath, for instance.

Women also use kissing as a bonding gesture, as well as to monitor the status of the relationship. If her partner's kissing frequency or technique suddenly changes, that perhaps is a sign of his waning interest.

Other gender differences uncovered by Gallup's research:

• Men show a greater preference for tongue contact and open-mouth kisses.
• Men are more willing than women to have sex with someone without kissing, as well as to have sex with someone they are not attracted to or consider to be a bad kisser.
• Women place more importance on kissing throughout a relationship, whereas men place less importance on it as the relationship progresses.

Improve your kiss

If you've ever been told to kiss off after smooching someone beneath the holiday mistletoe, fear not. Like other skills, one's kissing technique can be improved upon. Michael Christian, author of "The Art of Kissing" (under the pen name William Cane), offers classes, and there's a myriad of how-to books and DVDs.

To improve your technique, Christian suggests switching up your repertoire with different types of kisses:

• Vacuum kiss, in which you suck the air out of your partner's mouth while kissing
• Neck kiss, in which you kiss up and down your partner's neck
• "Lip-o-suction," in which you kiss the upper lip while your partner kisses the lower lip, and then you reverse.

Bad kisses, on the other hand, are relatively easy to pinpoint. "Bad kisses trigger the gag reflex," Christian says. "Bad kisses are also static and repetitious. Varying the speed, intensity and style can help."

Spontaneity also can help you get out of a slump.
"The best kisses are always the ones that happen accidentally," observes New York City resident Benjamin Kayne, 25, a digital media sales director. "(Planned kisses) are just tedious, and I'm sitting there thinking, 'Is this over yet? The commercial is over and I'm missing "CSI".' "

Wednesday, November 28, 2007


You read it right, ladies and gentlemen. Apparently, there is a whole parody site to listing customer complaints and United Airlines customer service and industry statistics.

"Read all about problems with United: Untied Airlines - Problems with United Airlines. A story in USA Today notes that UAL had the industry's highest rate of passenger complaints to the DOT for all of 2006: 1.36 complaints for every 100,000"

Monday, November 26, 2007

"Friendly Skies" (NOT), Rants and Raves

Generally, I love United direct flights into Washington because they are so convenient for me. Unfortunately, I haven’t had good luck on them and last night (full moon), it was the worst. I guess (optimistically) that everything happens for a reason. But whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?

UA982 was even worse than the time I flew the now-defunct Air Florida into Orlando and it hit (what they called) an air pocket and dropped out of the sky for a while (several thousand feet). I don’t want to go into specifics about what happened on the United flight last night - because I am still trying to get my head around it and what I might do about it, but it was very very bad.

Most United direct flights are full of overweight American contractors. I always seem to get seated next to the largest. There was only one Kuwaiti family on the flight out and I didn’t see any Kuwaitis at all on the return flight (a Lebanese couple and several guys who I think were Iraqi interpreters.)

Stupid comments I overhead before/on/after the flight last night:

“I don’t want to change my dollars for 20 dinars. I won’t be in Kuwait that long to use it all.” What? You’re not going to have dinner or take a taxi?

“I don’t know how Kuwait is going to be for me this time as a civilian. I mean, I don’t have a security escort or anything.” (Said by a guy who was about the same size as a linebacker.) Ooooooh, scawy!

(A flight attendant when told she may have to go to Kuwait): “Kuwait! No way. Do they have to wear the veil there?” What the hell is “the veil” they keep talking about? Hejab? Niqab? What?

“I don’t want to go back.” Well, that should be simple: don’t.

“The porters cost 5 dollars.” (Said by one guy about to let Babu from KGL load his luggage onto a cart). Do I have to talk about cheapass people again? Don’t even get me started.

Ok, now that I started with my main rant, let me go on to the raves/positives of my Turkey Day trip:

Seeing my family was fantastic. I met my cousin, Sara, for the first time. She’s only 13, but stunningly beautiful and very sweet. My uncle and aunt didn’t stop talking during the entire time they were there. My uncle is OCD – even moreso than my sister. My sister was very relaxed and laid back the entire trip which was amazing because I thought she was going to blow a few times. My mother was just happy to see me. My nephew is taller than I am now and all muscle. We went to see him play a football game and my throat still hurts from shouting.

Our house looks great and the new back yard is amazing. It is going to be so nice during the summer to sit in the gazebo and drink wine and look at the pool.

I got there in time to still see some of the gorgeous foliage: the trees were gold and red and yellow – really amazingly pretty.

The weather was perfect – until it turned really cold.

I went to see the Worst Movie Ever: The Mist. NO ONE TOLD ME THERE WOULD BE SPIDERS!!! I had to get up and leave the cinema for a while during that scene. I couldn’t take it. My nephew laughed at me, the cad.

Black Friday: The day after Thanksgiving; the single largest retail day of the year. Sales.

Fall shoes. Cheap shoes. Cheap leather shoes.

The most earth shattering sex with an old boyfriend. (Just kidding. Maybe not. You’ll never know….)

Oh - here is a funny story: I went all the way downtown for darabeel and some Arabic pastries. Packed them up; brought them to the States for my uncle. My sister was upstairs and noticed the smaller of the 3 dogs, Lola, pacing up and down in front of my room. My sister thought that The Ghost was in there (I travel with one, apparently) and started to freak. Then, she heard the munching: the Big Stupid Dog, Bo, had broken through the bag, and through the taped box, and chowed down on all the pastries. Dumbass. Lola was trying to rat out Bo because he's always in trouble.

Raves about being back in Kuwait:

Seeing friends in Kuwait Customs and having them be nice to me and making me feel “home”.

Having my luggage arrive with me (unlike almost all BA flights).

Seeing Slapperella and The Romanian come to greet me.

Seeing Desert Dawg.

Colonel Boring who successfully managed (with some muckity-muck friend) to have the construction water pump removed from under my window. PEACE all night long. (It is so strange, but in the course of less than a week, they removed the pump AND filled in the Big Hole. I don’t know what they’re up to….)

My bidet.

My maid who takes such great care of me.

People at work who said how much they missed me and how the place isn’t the same without me (no, I am not in a capacity to help them get bonuses).

Daily morning phone-call-from-Bunny resumption.

Shawarma delivery.

The tea boy.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Go Carts and Penguins

Go Cart!!!!!! I want to play!

Sorry the picture is kinda grainy - I took it with my mobile.

I was at Misref fair grounds yesterday attending the "Building & Construction Exhibition" (why? Because I had to.) when I saw this image: 3 3000 GTs in a go cart lot. Is this for real? I didn't have time to stop and ask (didn't see anyone around either). Is it a drift course? I am SOOOOOOOO going to do this. The red one looks just like my Stealth. I hope that they're all manual transmission. Has anyone played here? What is the age limit: can kids drive? That would be F-ed up, but not unbelievable - this being Kuwait and all. None of the cars had license plates on them - except for the red one.

The exhibit was a boring bust, but I hadn't given any intellectual consideration to the amount of damn good looking mens in there with very little female competitors. Just like shopping in Home Depot except without the day laborers.

........ Something completely different.........

Kuwait: Full of Penguins? The Romanian says that Kuwait is full of “penguins”: (mostly) short, fat men. I kinda think of them as robber barons.

My question is this: if you have a male relative with a stomach this big – wouldn’t you want to advise him to lose it? How dangerous is that much weight around the stomach? Dudes heart must be working quadroople time.

Monday, November 12, 2007

Short-Timer to Thanksgiving Leave

Some recent articles from Kuwait dailies....

This is what Kuwait is coming to.....

Arab Times, November 7, 2007: Woman sells her kidney: A Kuwaiti woman, whose identity has not been disclosed, is said to have sold her kidney for KD 5,000 to a compatriot who was suffering from renal failure, reports Al-Rai daily. …Commenting on the sale of her organ, the woman said she had no option but to sell her kidney to come out of what she called financial difficulties and accumulated debts. She has also appealed to kind-hearted people to help her. - END -

WTF. I mean, obviously that's not the whole story, but is this what is happening in Kuwait now? I've heard stories of Kuwaiti women going to the Awqaf asking for financial assistance, only to be told that if the women were willing to put out, they might be "helped". This country seems to be sliding way far backwards.

The price of US Army ''confidentiality'' (link)
Leaked information sends chilling message to contractors
Ahmed Zakaria, Exclusive to The Daily Star and AlـWatan
November 8, 2007

This story is the rebuttal to the Wall Street Journal story on PWC/Agility. AAAAAWWWWWW: Poor PWC/Agility (with wings). Making those billions is so difficult.

Questions raised by someone (not me) after this story ran: Why would Guttierez feel confident to approach Abdulrahman with a bribe? Why did he feel confident to approach him about the girlfriend setup? It didn’t come out of the blue! No one EVER approached me about a bribe cause they know it won’t fly and they KNOW I will blow the whistle immediately. Why did Guttierex feel safe with Abdulrahman?

Things that make you go hmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

International Herald Tribune
Daily Star – Al-Watan
November 12, 2007
‘Islamic car’ revealed
“Malaysia, Iran and Turkey plan to build an ‘Islamic car’ fitted with a compass to find the direction of Mecca, and a compartment to keep the Koran in…..”

Maybe the Vatican can do the same, revealing a Christan car. Made in Italy and sporting a Ferrari engine, the Christian-mobile comes with a rosary, holy water, and compartment to keep the Bible in.

Or perhaps a Jewish car: Israel has plans to reveal a ‘Jewish car’ The Jewish car comes complete with roof-mounted yamaka, rear-window displayed minora, and compartment to keep the Torah in.

Maybe a Budhist car: Monks have revealed plans for a ‘Buddha-buggy’. This quiet automobile comes with dashboard-alter including incense burner and room for Buddha.

Gee, what WILL they think of next?

Okay – MY LIFE…

I have a new semi-boyfriend. 'Semi' because I just can’t get my head around this. I mean, he is ok. I have known him for 10 years, but his wife was hospitalized and I didn’t want to “go there” with him. The situation has changed. Super nice guy – almost too nice: My friends think he’s “too easy” for me. Yeah, I need someone who will treat me like shit and disappear and then I’ll fall head-over-heels for him. He’s another cop. I know, I know. I don’t know what it is. Either cops, firemen, or Air Force (pilots, navigators, air traffic controller) guys. (There IS a uniform theme going here, but believe it or not, I've never seen most in uniform -- even before they get out of it. tee hee.) This one is a colonel with a lot of powah, owns companies, yada yada. We’ll see how it pans out.

I went to a party with the posse this weekend. The place was really nice, but really smoky and really loud. I always bring my marksman-approved ear plugs with me; they are THE Kuwaiti party accessory (in addition to sun glasses for the drive home). The cool thing was that they had an open bar all night and actually HAD cranberry juice as a mixer: Quite civilized.

A stupid girl walked into my path and said (in one of those sing-song, high-pitched voices), “(Desert Girl)? Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii”. I’m like, ‘Sorry, I don’t remember you.’ (I should use the excuse my Kuwaiti Ho girlfriend, GD, uses “I was in a car accident and hit my head and I’m sorry, but I just don’t remember.” But she’s F-ed up, so I don’t). She said, “Ooooooooh, I used to work with you at (that horrible logistics place).” I did remember her. THEN, poser child points at her mobile, tilts her head and said, “I’ve got to get this call.” Her shit didn’t even ring! Then, turns away/dismisses me. WTF. Yo! Beanie-Barbi - YOU accosted ME....

Anyhoo, good music, good drink; the Romanian danced most of the night (yes yes, even without a brass pole). All the lesbians in the house loved it (she’s a lesbian magnet for some reason). The only weird thing (other than one of my best friends being a lesbian magnet) was that almost everybody at the party was a stick-person. There were skinny beanpole bitches everywhere (and not a one with silicone boobs). In Kuwait, no less! Well, I’ve got to say – most of them were eurotrash girls anyways. They don’t count. They smoke about a gazillion cigarettes and then eat a bean with a Perrier and call it a meal (not you, Slapperella. You can’t help it honey because of your metabolism - and its not a bad thing). My food philosophy is: Bring on the machboos, baybeee!

Actually, it was McDonalds quarter pounder (no cheese, extra onions) on the way home (first one I’ve had in 6 months, so I can afford it right?). There is nothing like a drunken McDonalds run on the way home to make everything right in your world. Anything from McDonalds tastes fantastic after 2 am. Ask me: I know.

I’m leaving this weekend to the States. I can’t wait to see my family. I SO need a reality check. I can’t wait to wear my new sweaters (that’s “jumpers” in Briddish – a term we ‘mericans only usually use in reference to people committing suicide from high places).

Desert Girl Fashion Sidenote: When is it going to get cold in Kuwait? It is the middle of frickin November already. Talk about global warming! Ya know, it is only inappropriate to wear white after it gets cold in Kuwait. Until then, white capris are allowed (but only if your ass is as big as a VW). I saw some season-jumpers in the Avenues the other day: 2 girls wearing matching knee-high patent leather boots; one in white, the other in black. Also, what is it now with Kuwaiti girls going to the salon and STRIPPING their hair in order to color it blonde? That is SO bad for your hair and it looks so cheap. It would be like if I (with my pasty-white skin) dyed my hair black (which one of my friends did to assimilate and she looked/s like a freak. Elvira!).

Damn, I’m chatty today. What’s with that?

Wednesday, November 07, 2007

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

More Virgins!

I saw this stuff and immediately bought several bars as Christmas gifts. It is just what every woman needs - Virginity Soap. (I don't know - maybe a select group of guys can use this too.) It states right on the box "tightens vaginal muscle". Go figure. I thought it might be shaped differently. Its from Thailand - "for export only" - as if they don't need more virgins there too! My gal pals have told me that you can find it in different Asian shops around Kuwait. I bought mine when I was early for a meeting at the Al Salam building at Salhiya and had to waste time/money. I'm so glad because it is fascinating. I'm looking at the ingredients listing and I can't figure out which herbs they are claiming for the "herbal soap" part. I also can't figure out which one restores your virginity: Sodium palmate, aqua, sodium palm kernelate (could be that one), glycerine (I tried that one - doesn't do it), witch hazel extract, octoxyglycerin (I can't even pronounce these), titanim dioxide, tricosan, etidronic acid (ouchies?), and fragrance. Says it has vitamin E also (not listed in ingredients list). I would love to do a review, but hey - not gonna happen. Do your own.

Dead Sexy Military Contractors Conference – Yeah Baybeeeeee

I spent most of last week at the very sexy (I lie - very boring) US military contracting conference given by the Defense Acquisition University. (And yes, they did have it all – including Fat Bastard!) The DAU isn’t an accredited institution; it is owned by the US Government and it is all about US contracting. Anyhoooo… you can see how 3 days of this might grate on your nerves (exceptin’ for it was held at the new Bidaa Movenpick with free lunches/dinners -- compliments of US tax payers). A new (as in approximately 5 months) Grand Poohbah of Camp Arifjan contracting command, LTC Kiser (say it in English or in Arabic) stated to a room full of jaded contractors, “I believe in my heart that the Cockerham case was an isolated incident.” (Direct quote from his lips to my/room-full-of-peoples ears.) followed by something very similar to, “There is no corruption in contracting at Arifjan.” Dude! WTF kinda hooey is that???? How is it possible to make that statement? The last commander of contracting at Arifjan, Col. John Alexander (a full bird, no less) stated in an American Business Council meeting full of equally-as-pessimistic military contractors, something to the effect of (and I can’t quote him verbatum, but this is what he said): I was at Arifjan for 10 days when my legal counsel came into my office and told me, “Sir, we have a problem.” The next day, I called every auditor in the US I could to get them here and check the books. What’s with the about-face? Hmmmmmmm.

Now, I don’t blame the folks giving the conference, per se. They don’t know anything about Kuwait and were flying in/flying out to complete a particular task; giving the general State-side version of contracting. However, there are several points about it that I didn’t like: 1) It should have taken place around the same time as Bechtel held their contractors meeting at the Sheraton in 2003; when no one in Kuwait knew much about how to work with the US military and everybody-and-their-brother had something to sell them. 2) It should have been tailored to the unique circumstances in Kuwait (for example – Kuwait labor practices vs. the US military’s new hype about trafficking in humans). 3) Whoever was covering invitations could have done a much better job: There was only 1/3 capacity in the room. 4) Defense Acquisition University dudes could have asked any one of the American contractors doing business in Kuwait what their problems are and how they would like to have had them addressed at the conference. But nooooooooooo, once again, the UASS Embassy has chosen to ignore the entire American business community. (We're heeeeeeeeere!) Guess they are still too busy giving parties for any other nationalities (that’s another story). I do have hope for a new and improved US embassy, however. Female Ambassador, female Commercial Counselor, Filipino-American (don't know his title) muckity-muck. Maybe they can get rid of several butt-kissing posers they have working there now who only remember who you are if they think you are important (one of whom stared so hard at my diamond ring that I thought my finger was on fire). (More stories….) Anyhoo, the US government dudes were so cold that even at the buffet line (paid for by US tax payers), they wouldn’t speak or make small talk at all; as if they were afraid of everyone. Boo!!! Dudes - TALK to people on the ground and know what’s up. Typical. The US government pays for these events, but truly doesn’t have a handle on the real situation. Furthermore, if contracting/procurement officials at Arifjan change every 18 months/2 years, how can ANYONE have a handle on the real contracting circumstances in Kuwait? That’s just wrong.

Anyways, the Chairhole sent me to the conference after we had a "disagreement" over the per diem rate (YO! I'm not Discount Girl!) I should have received on his mandated trip to Dubai (that I didn't take); and I got to be out of his face for 3 whole days. Does that make sense (said like I care)?

Now, on to stories from my mundane existence:

Thursday night, The Romanian and I went out with the Bentley Boyz (2 guys, 2007 Bentley). Posers. It is probably a rental (not that I really care). The problem with posers is that they think that all the little (and not-so-little) ajaneb (foreign) women know nothing at all. I think we freak them out (especially with the PC-uncorrect versions of Kuwaiti jokes you'd hear at the diwaniya). They invited us out on “their” yacht the next day. I asked how big the boat was (blank stare), “Uh, 3 bedrooms.” Yeah well, my friend with a 27’ Scarab has 3 bedrooms (that translates to 2 benches and another sleeping bag in the middle). Then, from the table, I called my Kuwaiti Boating Guru, Wahabi, who said that the weather would be windy. Posers are so stupid. Plus, Bentley Poser Boyz wanted to leave the marina at 4 pm to go to Kubbar. WTF??? Anyhoo, we ditched them and went looking for better trouble. Got a few Kabd invitations, but I just haven’t felt like driving up there lately.

I took The Romanian on a brief jaunt around the Movenpick (we were at Le Lounge at Bidaa with the Boyz and she hadn’t been to the hotel before). Romanian’s reaction to the Move-and-Prick was, “OMG gorgeous, but why Kuwait? I mean, if I was going to open a hotel like this… not Kuwait.” It is definitely a red-wine-sippin-in-the-lobby- lounge kind of place. Why Kuwait? I got a strange SMS from Purgy after we left, asking if we had been at the Movenpick. Incase anyone was wondering, Purgatory is a stalker. He stalks my blog and now this. He immediately knew that he would be fodder for a blog post and has probably been checking here every day since Friday morning to see if he’s included. Are you happy now?

I hate really big…

Crowds! Dirty-thinkers! I was debating whether or not to go to the Redbull Flutag thingy last Friday and I talked myself out of it because of the crowd. I’ve never been a person who likes traffic or crowds (unless it is a Chipendales convention or something). The Romanian and I talked about going, but then decided that there might be too many of the scary boy-mobs there, so we didn’t go. Mark’s blog made it look fun and retarded at the same time. Were there a lot of women there? How was the crowd?

The rest of my weekend was spent on recycled guys. I am now going through a “devil you know” phase where I know why I’ve rejected them in the past, but they are still better than some of the weird-o’s I’ve only recently met. I’m also going through a phase where I only meet puppies (the kind of young guys who follow you everywhere with wide, pathetic eyes, hoping you’ll throw them a biscuit). I’m so not impressed. Generally, I've found puppies to be (as a metaphor) similar to a Corolla driver given a Ferrari: They have gorgeous equipment, but they just don't know how to handle it. Zoom, zoom, zoom baby.

I have been a workaholic lately anyways. I don’t have much time. When I do, I would rather spend it with me girls or good friends who I know won’t try to grope/molest me at the first given opportunity (like you, Maz!). I don't know where the Jailbird (aka Psychic Bedu) is lately. While he was in jail, he was calling me and professing his undying love and telling me that he wanted to marry me and all that bullshit. Alas, it was all prison-bitch chat. Il est disparu (or whatever the F in French).

And now... for something completely different....

Comfort Foods: I had the pumpkin cheesecake at The One Café this week (speaking of groping). Holy shit that is good stuff! They only have it around November and December. The “wild cheesecake” at Lorenzino café also rocks. Almost got molested at our table at Lorenzino: Dude who walked by 5 times trying to give me his phone number (in competition with his BROTHER also trying to give me his phone number) came and sat down at our table to give me his number. WTF! These guys are getting pretty bold. Haven’t any of these cheapass amateurs ever heard of The Cake Maneuver (where you send the object of interest a piece of cake with your card/number?). It has been 2 years since I was on the receiving end of a cake maneuver…

Speaking of comfort foods…. I am flying back to the States for Thanksgiving for 5 days. Why? Because I can. I haven’t been with my family for Thanksgiving in 11 years and I think its time. I’m also going back for Christmas (I know – I’m retarded, right?).

Has anyone noticed that their MTC bills are higher now that the company changed their name to Zain? Are we, their customers, paying for their globalization and re-branding? What’s up with that? My bill is a lot higher and I’m not liking it.

This week is going to be crazy-busy yet again and thankfully, our DG/Romanian/Slapperella weekend has already been booked. Yippeeee!

Monday, October 29, 2007

It's a small country!

I was happy to learn that 2 of the 4 newly appointed ministers are friends. One of them is the guy who helped me get to Kuwait way-back-when. He was responsible for getting me my first job here and turned into a really good friend along the way. I met him on my first trip to Kuwait in 1993. He used to call me for “unique” perspective (say it in English or Arabic – he does). I saw him in Washington and saw his unique perspective.

The other guy is the brother of one of guys in the “Name that X boyfriend” photo…. Lets just say that they both have the same toes and that is how I re-connected to my friend when I got to Kuwait. I heard the last name and then I saw the toes and I knew!

See, I know jailbirds AND politicians…

My life is so interesting (to ME – shut up!)

Articles on Corruption in Military Contracting

'Problems' found; Team probes Army contracts in Kuwait (Oct 28)

Army to examine Iraq contracts for fraud (Oct 27)
Probe focuses on Army office in Kuwait that gave $2.8 billion in contracts

Marking Up The Reconstruction (Sandi Group & Dyncorp) (Oct 26)

Sunday, October 28, 2007

I'll have the Beefeater combo...

Last week was obnoxiously filled with work-related meetings. It made me tired. It was all capped off with a very long, boring meeting with some Chinese guys (no, not Juan Hunglo or Som Yungai) we are into a losing JV with. I’m supposed to be the intermediary’s intermediary. For the past year, I have been answering the same questions and going in the same circle. I can’t even tell you how much tea I’ve had to drink. My blood runs Chinese tea now.

My weekend was great – what I can remember of it. My blood is not really tea, but Beefeaters, after this weekend. Amazing how you can be a top contender in the Alcohol Olympics and score a silver in both vodka and whiskey; only to be sorely beaten by the gin-drinking athletes. For the first time in almost 10 years, The Romanian was the designated driver. I repeated the mating call of the blondes, "I'm sooooooo drunk!" I can remember bits and pieces; laughing so hard that it hurt. Thankfully, it wasn't the kind of alcohol that makes your crotch hurt later. tee hee. Note to self: Don’t eat spicy seafood after drinking lots of gin. Very very bad.

I am now off to Dubai for a boondoggle: 3 days of Middle East Rail Projects. WTF – now I’m a railroad engineer? “I’ve been work-in on the raaaaaail road… all the live long day….” Whatever. I get paid to do this stuff. I’m looking at the conference schedule and guessing I can blow off the entire second day to go play by the pool (French martinis baybeeee!). I’m hoping my Romanian Partner-In-Crime can come with me.

Speaking of fluids… I bought a juicer. I’ve always wanted one. I don’t know why I didn’t do it sooner. I’ve been watching those damn programs on Showtime like, “How to look 10 years younger.” They have F-ed me up. I am liking the juicer, however. One night last week, I tried juicing just about everything in my refrigerator: I was getting carried away and had to stop when I wanted to see what would happen if I juiced a chicken. Not good. Anyhooo, I ended up making myself sick (no surprise) and spent the rest of the night in the bathroom. My dog got scared and stayed under the bed. Such is my life.

Speaking of sick.... Bobarino’s reception was otay. Nice to see people I haven’t seen for a while. The venue was lacking, but hey – whatever. I think we would have been more comfortable back at his roof-top residence barbecuing some meat. As it was, I was still pretty hung over, so what they had on offer was just fine. They probably had no clue that I was hung over because I only resemble my normal self when I am.

We saw the Jailbird this weekend too. He’s lost weight, but he looks good. He seemed to be sitting just fine, so I guess he’s ok there… no comment. He is going to look for a site for this year’s desert camp today. Last year, it was really nice – up on a hill across from B’naider. 245 seems to be THE place to be. All the land on the left side of the road with the chalets is prohibited for camping this year. I wonder why. I would imagine all the people with chalets (politicians?) got pissed off. I can’t wait to be back in the desert: barbecue on my fingers; sand in my toes and drunk off my....

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Strangers in the Night

I know – I got kinda heavy handed with my last 2 posts. Me sorry. It is cool that so many people commented and had interesting feedback. So now back to my boring ass life (there is a new book out with a similar title. Saw the guy on Letterman).

Everywhere I go lately, “Strangers in the Night” is playing. WTF. I have it constantly stuck in my head. I can only remember the first line of the dirty version, “Strangers in the night, exchanging rubbers….this one’s much too tight, how ‘bout another…” Can anybody help me with the DIRTY lyrics?

I went out with Maz last night and he made me promise not to write about him here on the blog, so of course, I’m not. We had a nice dinner at Villa Fairuz and then he made me drive back to my place to drop myself off. He said he had back problems and was in pain, but I suspect more than anything that he was trying to give me small payback: He just bought (with his own money, not one else’s; fer sure no Tawhore) a 2008 Tahoe and I think he wanted to let me drive HIS big engine home. So to speak. (Yes, I totally and completely meant the car!!!! Dirty thinkers!) Anyhooooo, thanks Maz for making my mental week of business meetings and overall craziness much more relaxing.

I called my mom when I got home. DAMN I MISS MY MOMMY. I think I’m going to fly home (I love you, United direct flights to IAD) and surprise them at Thanksgiving. I haven’t been at a Thanksgiving meal with my family since 1996. I really want to be there. At first, my plan was just to fly in for one day and fly out, but everyone agreed that I’m retarded; so (not that it is taking away from that), I decided to go back for about 4 days. I’m going again for longer at Christmas, but I feel the need for family (ok, ok, I confess…. For turkey and gravy and stuffing and our family’s traditional Thanksgiving foods.)

I also want to see all the yard renovations. Our house in Virgina is backed up to a small plot of land that my family had the option to buy when the sub-division of houses was built. It is an oddly-shaped piece of land (a 10’ strip with a berm and beautiful trees) that juts out into our back yard – within feet of the fence around the pool. We didn’t buy it. So now … years later… the family who bought the land has started construction. The first thing they did was to bring in a bulldozer to dig up our entire view behind our house. They started taking down all the trees and scaring away the deer. My sister had a cow. She told the builders that if even a drop of mud fell into our pool, that she was going to sue and keep them in court for years. It has been a nasty, muddy mess back there. Since then, my sister has spent over $100k in the back yard doing landscape architecture so that the view wouldn’t be ruined. They even trucked in a pre-fab gazebo and 35’ trees, so that neighbor-dude wouldn’t be looking over at our family at the pool. Even neighbor dude’s builder advised him, “Don’t piss off your neighbors… You are going to regret this… “ Our land stretches into dude’s front yard, so we are thinking about building and have several ideas: Pig farm. 24/7 brightly-lit tennis court: fun for the whole neighborhood all day and night long. A wall (similar to the Wall of China)., Etc. Some people are just phuckin stupid!

Anyhooo, at least our neighborhood isn’t on fire. My mom reminded me to call my friend, Lina (aka “Leanover”), in San Diego and make sure her pants weren’t on fire (yes, of course, they usually are). I called her and she (and her 5 dogs – Yorkies) have been evacuated to her mother’s house in another part of SD. Lina is convinced that the fires were caused by a short circuit in her…. (um… politically correct… ) Battery Operated Boyfriend (BOB)….mechanical man… HO! She said her Kuwaiti x-boyfriend hadn’t called to find out how she is, so I sent him a text message at 2:00 am (have had trouble sleeping this week) to tell him that her BOB had started the fires. Just incase he was wondering. He’s a GM of a big Islamic finance and investment company. He SO pretends to be religious.

Insecure men.

I think The Romanian has us lined up with some firemen friends this weekend (in keeping with the spirit of "hot pants on fire", etc). Its either that or Kabd ('tis the season to be Kabd-ing...). Ah yes, Kabd, chapathi, chai halib, and bayth (at 4:30 am).

Wednesday, October 24, 2007


Get it – you are locked up when you are married….

This is going to be a very long post, so put your big girl panties on and deal with it (or just hit that "back" icon above).

Here is the thing that got me started thinking about this subject: A woman wrote to me recently (based on her perspective of what she has read on my blog) and said that I am, “just looking for a man to marry me”, implying that I haven’t found anyone who would want to marry me; and/or that I am lonely. Me giggles. That’s just plain hooey. The “lonely” part of it doesn’t even enter into the equation as I am rarely alone and most of the time, I am just too damn busy. (I do miss my family, but that is a different story.) Although I see through to the veiled truth of her own situation through her words to me, the question of marriage keeps bringing itself up. For example, in questions from former colleagues or people who I bump into who ask, “Did you ever settle down?” What does “settle down” mean? My understanding of “settle” refers to settling for something of lesser quality. Settle + down (to me) relates to sitting on a sofa/settling in for the night of TV watching and Pizza Hut. I do the latter about once every 2 weeks. The former: never.

I have also been asked so many times over the years (that I have lost count), “Why aren’t you married yet?” (occasionally followed by “… you’re pretty. Men are stupid not to ask.”; placing beauty/appearance as a key decision-making factor: How long would a marriage based on that superficiality last?) I have heard the particular (culturally ingrained?) philosophy over the years, mostly from women of Arab or Indian cultures; that a woman SHOULD get married; as perhaps she is less if she is without a man (I have found many women are more!) I am rarely asked similar questions in the States.

In this part of the world, you aren’t “complete” without a man. I can say that I am complete all by myself: I am independent, I make more money than many of the men I meet; I have all the stuff I need materialistically – because I bought it for myself. If I need a gorgeous piece of jewelry or a vacation – I pay for it with money I earn; and no one tells me what to do with my paycheck (I will send you photos of my shoe closet!). Marriage “completing” a woman, I think, depends on the value a culture places on marriage as the “be all” of relationships. Yes, religion does play a crucial role also; personal religious beliefs determine the course of many peoples’ actions. The legal system in the Middle East, for example, places strong value on marriage and doesn’t recognize (or allow by penalty of legal recourse/jail) children born out of wedlock, nor does it recognize (or allow by penalty of legal recourse/jail) couples living together. In the States where I come from; there are laws governing paternity and palimony (ending a long-term live-together relationship). Does the US go too far? I think these laws have come into place as it is about personal choice: of religion, of lifestyle, etc. If people make different choices, laws are set into place to ensure that people are treated fairly regardless of their domestic choice.

First, I think marriage is great for those who want to be married. In theory, I think it is a wonderful arrangement. I just haven’t been able to place a practical use for it in terms of my personal situation.

Marriage scares the hell out of me if you must know the truth. I almost never answer the questions honestly; I choose avoidance. If I answered honestly, it would divulge too much about my character, insecurities, and observances. When asked, “Why aren’t you married?” I prefer to answer with something flippant like, “Because I’m a lesbian. Leave me alone.” Or “Gee, I guess I just haven’t found the right one yet….” “The love of my life died in 1999.” All crap (except for the latter, actually, but we wouldn’t be married if he was still alive). I’m scared that I will be trapped like a caged animal in despair; pacing up and down with wide, sorrowful eyes. I’ve seen too much, heard too much, grown “wise” at the hands of time. I have seen much more unhappiness and futility in marriage than lasting, loving relationships. The older I get, the more my knowledge of this fact becomes cemented.

When I hear the Kuwaiti wedding processions driving by my window, with car lights flashing, horns honking, and the grooms’ friends rejoicing; the cynical voice in my head takes over, ‘There goes another divorce waiting to happen.’ I question my own reasoning, but there it is – stuck in my head, and so matter-of-fact that many times it is just second nature.

I probably should have gotten married to one of the multitude of those guys in my youth who were offering up what appeared to be all the right things. When you’re young, your list of requirements is short (and your list of suitors long). My list of requirements now reads like Amazon’s home web page; even if I could figure out what all my requirements are, there is a lot of searching involved and it requires a lot of time and effort. Sometimes you just want to get off the net and forget the whole thing as too much trouble.

In all, I think the magic number for proposals I have received (of the serious kind) is around 20. I have a collection box of engagement rings (as Zsa Zsa Gabor says, “I have never hated a man enough to give back a ring.”) Most often, admittedly through my own fault, I didn’t carry through. I have never been convinced that all the right elements were there; and that we would have stayed together. Perhaps it is even a matter of relinquishing control over my own life.

I admire people who take a leap of faith and get married; perhaps even if they have doubts. Some people just love being married and don’t really think about the outcome. Some fight through their difficulties and have long-lasting marriages for years and years. I would love to be in my eighties and with a man I had loved most of my life; sitting in rocking chairs next to each other or going for little walks together because we couldn’t stand to be apart from each other. I love that ideology. Our own individual fears of growing old alone force us all to crave for that time of relationship I think.

I also admire the fact that statistically, married people have sex more often than single people. Important factor in consideration. Especially, it seems, to many of the younger generation.

However and again: I have fear of being with someone for years and years (not just for the statistic of having more sex with the same person for years and years – I shiver) for the potential of losing them by divorce or death. I fear the loss, grief, and depression (that I have seen so many times in so many relationships – regardless of where it is in the world). I don’t know how people can manage to survive it. I don’t know if I could.

I take marriage of any kind very seriously and temporary marriage (mutaa) counts in my head (and scares me a lot less as it is easier to get out of). I have been married through mutaa and I can’t say that I even believe in it (again, this is my personal opinion/interpretation, but I don’t believe that going into something that you know will end is really marriage), but when it is brought to me by someone who does believe in it, I take it very seriously and keep my end of the bargain. For all extensive purposes, I conducted myself as if I was married (as in court, on paper, whatever). It is a promise between you, your mate and God. The end to even that form of marriage has been a blow to me and very difficult to recover from.

How could it be possible to devote a large portion of your life, body and soul to someone; have children with them, and then have it come to an end? Statistically, and very much unfortunately, this is the result: According to the Kuwait Ministry of Justice as reported in September of 2007, 53% of marriages in Kuwait end in divorce (pronounced “de-voice” in Kuwait); the divorce rate in America, as reported by lists the US divorce rate at 41% for first marriages (percentage gets higher the more marriages you have). Perhaps people had doubts from the beginning; maybe they knew that (like mutaa) the marriage would only be for a period of time and wouldn’t last; and yet decided to get married and have kids; a tremendous leap of faith. Who knows – maybe it is smoke and mirrors? None of us knows what goes on behind the closed doors of other people’s homes; or even within the depths of our individual psyches.

I have scoffed at the (supposed) loose morals of people who “don’t believe in marriage” – who stay together for years and even have children together – with no formal (court) marriage. My opinion has always been, “Why don’t they just get married formally if they have been together for many years?” I am beginning to understand their thought process, however. Why should you find it so necessary to have a paper when you love someone and can make a long-lasting commitment without it (ok, in places where it is legal)? Why add the pressure of a formal marriage when things are going along so well? The marriage certificate binds you into a commitment you may not be able to get out of; either economically, emotionally, etc. For me personally, I suffer in captivity of any kind. I want to rebel and strike out against it. On the flip side, I have been so blinded in love in my life that I wished for it like a moth to a flame; only to be very thankful later when I wasn’t burnt by it.

I make jokes about finding “the right guy” or a “billionaire in his 90s with no living children” to marry, but seriously – I have found (and am finding) these guys/they have found me (well, not in his 90s with no living children, but yes – a few billionaires). For whatever reason I had at the time, I didn’t do it. Further, money really doesn’t factor in because I know first hand that it can’t buy your happiness (am I right, Tawhore?). Things are short-lived.

I’m not on a hunt to “find some man to marry me”. It isn’t HIS decision; its mine if it comes to that. I’m not waving a banner saying, “pick me, pick me!” If it happens, it happens. In my case, quite honestly, most of the time it isn’t the catch; it is the thrill of the hunt. If it ever feels right – or maybe if I can muster up all the faith that I think it would take, then maybe someday I’ll go for it. If not, even with my concerns for my future, I am sure that I will be just fine without a marriage certificate from a government entity.

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Why Some People Quit Blogging

None of us have to agree with everything written in other people’s blogs. The beauty of blogging is that there is a variety of information/perspectives out here and you can pick and choose what you want to read. If we don’t like what other people have to say, in a few keystrokes, we can navigate somewhere else and not go back there again (there are a few blogs that really do piss me off, so I don't read them). It is just like being in other people’s company; if you meet someone that you don’t like or share the same things in common or just dislike their opinions, you can move on and not associate with that person again.

Like politics or religion or whatever you don’t agree with – why stop to argue about something that you are likely not to win or change? Why place negative energy into something that you might as well just avoid? Agree to disagree and that’s it.

I’ve been receiving a lot of negative comments – mostly of the anonymous variety – from people who don’t share my opinions in the blog. For those people who do share my opinions – or at least stop in to read what I have to say and enjoy it: Let me just say that a few negative comments aren’t going to stop me from blogging. Phuck that.

I receive a lot of mail (with actual return addresses and even phone numbers) from people who have read this blog; not just in Kuwait but in other countries around the world. I have made a lot of friends – some of whom I socialize with in the “real world”. I love doing this. I have had years of happiness, word therapy and new friends, perspectives and insights.

What I am saying to those who chose to send in negativity is this: If you don’t like what I have to say, you have the CHOICE to stop reading; or perhaps even create your own blog and state your own opinions. (I’m not advocating that you start a blog to write negative comments directed solely at ME – by any means.) What you will find here are my opinions; not yours. I’m not planning to change, so you won’t win your argument; and you certainly will ever win with insults. Move it along - hopefully with a little dignity and self-respect.

I’m not willing to post comments that I’m not comfortable with. As the Editor in Chief of my own blog – I get to choose. If someone chooses to"advise" someone else, it doesn't mean that the person must take the advice. I have a choice. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. And most definately - insults just aren’t going to make it in. If ANYONE wants to say something to me directly, you are more than welcome 24/7, 365 days a year to contact me at If you are considerate enough to leave a return address, I’ll even be happy to reply. However, one sided diatribes go directly to my recycle bin.

This is the first (since 2004) and last post that I will ever make on the subject. Bada bing.

Hugs and kisses,
Desert Girl

Sunday, October 21, 2007


US Rejected Civil Case (PWC/Agility story from the WSJ, Europe - page 10), October 23, 2007

Inside the Greed Zone (PWC/Agility Story from the Wall Street Journal).

Houston man is key figure in probe of food contracts (PWC/Agility Story from the Wall Street Journal)

The author of these stories is Glenn Simpson of the Wall Street Journal. He and his investigative team are running a series of similar stories and welcome feedback and additional research info. Email is

I Go to All the Romantic Places

…. With my girlfriends. I have found that men have become too cheap to invite me/us to any of the nicer restaurants around Kuwait. (If I offered to pay would it even make a difference???) Alas, the 1.250 kd cup of Starfucks has become the norm in Cheapass Tightwad Country. Last night, The Romanian and I had a perfectly lovely, romantic, candle-lit dinner at Ricardo in the Sheraton. I haven’t been back there for years (wasted years). OMG, the food is amazing and so is the service. There is lots of crystal and silver. I love that place. It is just really elegant. For what we pay at Sakura, it is almost comparable. By the by, there were lots of yummy mens in Ricardo during Eid, but last night, only couples "in love" and a family. The couples in love weren't talking to each other - except for one pair (it was his birthday) - and I only got one bluetooth from a man with a very pregnant wife. The pig! I sent him one back saying that I was about to walk across the room and slap him upside his rotund head. They left shortly after (both spent most of the evening talking to other people on their mobiles). Ah yes, love was indeed in the air.

The Romanian and I have also re-discovered the SAS lobby; and no, not for the men because it is like an old guy/mubahath diwaniya in there. I hadn’t been there in a long time, and had forgotten that they have a piano player. She (Aleksandra) is REALLY good and won me over as soon as she played, “Prelude to a Kiss” which is one of my all-time favorites. I used to request it at the piano bar at the Ritz Carlton in Tysons on Friday nights (while drinking my tequila sunrise and munching on sweet potato chips). Ahhhhh….. (WAKE UP!!!) I also like the Peacock and Kon Tiki. I think the hotel could use a re-vamp, however. My ass has a hard time getting off of their blue leather sofas because they are just too squishy (oh yeah, and my ass is just too big – that too).

Speaking of asses.... The Jailbird will be out in a few days so we can get back to eating fish at Housny. He is such a nice guy and all of us miss him so much. He was kept in jail a little longer than expected because - as he said - he had to kick someone's ass after they tried to "own" his! Damn.... I warned him about that. Watch your 6, buddy!

Cops.... We got chased down the street by a mubahath supervisor who was on duty at the hotel. Why? Because The Romanian is a cop magnet. I was really really surprised how fast dude shifted into a car and caught up with us (I drive like a maniac). It was impressive and I'm sure if there was a real emergency, they would have been on it very fast. He started speaking to her in Romanian. I was laughing so hard I almost couldn't drive home. They were looking at each other (us from the hotel valet parking - him from just outside) like meercats on The Animal Planet. You know how meercats kind of pop up over the reeds of grass and stare? It was like that. Dude was hysterical.

I cut my finger. I can’t say how, really (it involved a small explosion), but it hurts like the dickens. Thank God, it isn’t my favorite finger (that was close). It is the ring finger on my right hand. Of course, The Romanian and I have a conspiracy theory that everything is “her” fault and that somehow, she’s putting the eye on me (and my finger). Anyhoo, it is hard to do many things with a big band aid on your finger; many things that I had previously taken for granted.

Agony Aunt: Have you heard that Briddish term? Well, that’s what I am, apparently. I have one of those faces that everybody feels like they can say anything to. I’ve been catching a whole lot of other people’s grief lately and I’m like, ‘Dude/ette, why don’t you just create your own blog so that you can vent your frustrations?’ It has worked for me, right? I don’t like giving advice (unless someone specifically asks me for it). I just listen, empathize, console … and like that.

I’ve had a leetle bit of people writing to me with “advice” of their own – thinking that I am a 20-something girl in need of more mature assistance. Although I AM 29 (I lie), and perhaps my style of writing portrays someone of a more youthful age…. I am pretty much up to holding my own in terms of experience. I met a woman here once – not much older than me, but with a whole lot of sun damage – who started pouring on the older-woman advice. When I mentioned my age, she had a bewildered look (LOVE THAT) and said, “Oh.” Done deal. Bada bing. While I appreciate the main intent, the sub-intent of one-upmanship just aint all that.

Ok, enough about that. Why doesn’t City Center stock good tampons? They have 2 aisles of pads, but only like 2 boxes of tampons; and I’m sorry, OB doesn’t rate as a tampon to me. (I don’t understand why more people here don’t like tampons. I would die without them.) For a while there, I thought that the entire US military had depleted Sultan Center’s stocks of Tampax. I was having fits. I was ready to buy cartons (not boxes) from the US over the internet. It is really very worrisome. Anyhow, I was in Shitty Center this weekend and while staring my way through the sanitary napkin (I HATE that term!!!) aisle, a man and his 2 young boys pushed past me to grab some kind of pads; something with wings or flaps or whateverthephuck. The boys were saying, in Arabic, “No daddy. She doesn’t like those. She gets this kind at the co-op.” It kind of freaked me out and got me to contemplating. I’m glad that 1) men actually shop for feminine hygiene products for their wives 2) Arab men actually shop for feminine hygiene products for their wives 3) their sons are being trained for the future to actually shop for feminine hygiene products for their wives 4) they knew the difference between the good ones and the bad ones. Hey, here is a question (if you men have been brave enough to read down this far after the word “tampon” at the beginning of the paragraph) Men: Do you buy feminine hygiene products for your women or are you too chicken shit? Just wondering. Ladies: What has your experience been? Feel free to write in anonymously. Its ok.

I like City Center for other reasons: Like, they see a Westerner and all of a sudden, you have lots of little men who want to push your cart around for you INSIDE the store. Ah, if only they had valet parking, it would be my ideal place (if they stocked tampons, of course).

Furthermore, why don’t they have Midol in Kuwait? I’m pretty sure a lot more women here would be nicer people for a week out of the month…. Well hey… why don’t they have alcohol here so that everybody could be nicer 24/7 – 365? Just some thoughts. I know that if I have Midol, alcohol and chocolate… I’m a WAY nicer person all the way around. Go figure. I would probably be a nicer person too if I didn’t have to go to tall the romantic places only with my female friends. That would be a stress reliever. Maybe Midol, alcohol, chocolate, and Ricardo with a yummy man. Yeah! That rocks.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

DG Request for Dirty Aliases

Every once in a while this happens – someone mentions aliases and I start thinking dirty (again and as usual). The short list I came up with was: Jack Meoff, Som Yungai, Lotta Gue and Seymore Butts. I know there are more. Please post a comment if you have good ones. I can’t think of any more right now. I'm sure that creative people like Purg can help.

I had a dream about The Man last night; well, he was not actually there, but it was about him. It freaked me out so bad that I felt compelled to send him an SMS. (Fuckit now the SheDevil will probably do something in retaliation as he tells her everything. P-word!) Oh well. I didn’t’ want to leave it on my conscience and if something had happened and I hadn’t said anything – it would be my bad karma. Anyhooooo… I used to be so wrapped up in him that I was kindof psychic about events that were happening in his life. I haven’t had any “messages” like this since we broke up. The event in my dream took place exactly at 1:30 in the afternoon in Jleeb (the old Jleeb): The sky turned dark and black and I thought it was night, so I asked what time it was. Three bad guys – who seemed to know him or be affiliated with him in some way (maybe even bad police men) kidnapped me and took me there (someplace next to a big tank like an oil/gas storage tank). I kept asking where he was. I knew without a doubt that something really bad had happened to him. The bad guys dumped my car somewhere in the desert and took me away. I couldn’t get away and I felt really frustrated that I couldn’t help him. I know that his supervisor was involved somehow and that he was being “interrogated” in a way. Holy shit – maybe he’s being interrogated by the SheDevil and he’s being held captive and tortured….

Terrible dream and it came out of nowhere (because I went to sleep with dirty thoughts of someone else dancing in my head). It has left me in a bad mood today.

And then I went to the frickin dentist… which wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be. Dr. Ahmed at International Clinic only took 45 minutes to repair my tooth and it didn’t even hurt. I didn’t cry and I didn’t punch anyone in the face (like I did when I got my root canal done way-back-when in the States). Thank God, Dr. Ahmed caters to cowards like me. I’m going back to get more done with my newfound bravery.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

The Desert Girl Eid Show

I Ugly-fied Desert Dawg: I decided to “do something a little different” and have Desert Dawg’s hair cut “poodle style” for Eid. I don’t know what prompted this, but it has had horrific consequences. She is really pissed off at me (just LOOK at the little face in the picture) and I can’t blame her. I won’t do it again and I feel really bad. Now, it is so short in some places (doggy ass) that I have to wait for it to grow out a little so that the groomer has something to work with. My fear is that if I have her completely shaved, that she will freeze to death because I keep my bedroom at sub-zero temperatures to sleep. (Purgy) I am completely against animal abuse and I have seemed to have done it myself this time. Poor little thing. (Her hair WILL grow back!)

Non-restaurant review: I went to Fareej Suwaileh restaurant this weekend (in Salmiya close to Marks & Spencer). The service was so bad that we walked out before we ever had the chance to order. I asked to speak to the manager and was told that, “He is resting.” Gee, how nice for him. I was planning to write a restaurant review about it, but there was no way in hell I could do it (as, of course, all the reviews in Kuwait are positive, positive, positive/perky-perky). The menu in English is worth the entire visit, however. There were so many spelling mistakes that I lost count (like “Kuwaitian Fodd” and “lamp shops”). Too bad. The restaurant is close to home and I was looking forward to a Kuwaiti place around the block. I’ll stick to Shatiya Watiya – even though I have to go cross-country to get there now because of all the construction/street closure around the Behbehani houses.

I guess it wasn’t my night because we decided to go to Araya to The Ritz restaurant which has amaaaaaaaaaazing fish & chips, only to discover that ever-entrepreneurial Sameer Dahan (you go, boyyyyy!) has struck again; and the restaurant was closed for renovation. We ended up saying “F it” and went to Bukhara at the Sheraton because at that point, I needed good service and guaranteed good-quality food (also known as "pampering"). We ran into my lawyer and his very-pregnant wife for the 2nd time in 2 days (the day before at the SAS). She must think we are stalking him. I am fer sure going to Ricardo this weekend because OMG there were a lot of really handsome men in there! I haven’t been there in years and the food used to be outstanding (this was in the days when there were still men in Kuwait who invited me to nice restaurants and not just Starbucks).

Eid was interesting. Slaps was in Oman and it was just me and The Romanian. We got invited to a lot of parties, but I just haven’t been in a party party mood. We’ve been doing quiet stuff lately which seems to better suit my mood. “A bottle at home is better than 2 in the bush (desert)” so to speak.

I had some very nice messages and very nice calls from friends I haven’t heard from in a while – like Maz, Olive’s brother. (If you are reading this – let’s go. You name the country and I’m in.)

I received a left-handed SMS from the SheDevil for Eid. I know she’s doing it just to F with me now and it may just instigate war. The content is such that the meaning of the message is twisted – she isn’t doing it to be nice although I’m sure that’s what she’s telling him. I can’t tell if The Man is F-ing with me or if it is just the SheDevil. Either way, it is going to be on like donkey kong if this stuff doesn’t cease and desist. Please don’t pretend to be my friend just to get what you want. I see through it. The draaaaaaaaaaaaama! Whay whay.


Speaking of oddities: I had a very strange experience last week. I met a TV personality (I'm not naming names) through a friend. He is (in his words) “ready to settle down” and showed some interest initially through e-mails and phone calls. So, we met for dinner. He reminded me of a little dog – constantly looking around the room and very very nervous. Yes, I did show compassion and kept telling him that he really should have a cigarette (or a bottle of vodka perhaps). He put on a nicotine patch and rubbed it constantly (on his ARM, dirty-thinkers!) At the end of the meal (which ROCKED – best part of the evening; although he said, “I thought scallops meant escalloped. I don’t eat shellfish…” Like I care.), he said, “You have some very serious thinking to do. This will be a long-term commitment.” Oh snap – he said the word too soon. It’s like sex that is over too fast. Commitment: JeezLouise – even I know better than to use that word on first date. It freaked me out. Show people!

OH! I have a classic for you people out there… I met a guy in his 40’s (managerial position at a ministry) several weeks ago and I didn’t feel like calling him back. I finally did and he said he wanted to send me his picture (I only spoke to him twice). What he sent me was a picture of his weenie (also known as: winky, pee-pee, po-po, Johnson, peter, one-eyed-trouser-snake, heat seeking moisture missile, tallywacker, etc…). OMG! WTF is happening to Kuwait???? I told him that I am saving it incase he ever calls me again – that I’ll file a case against him. What is WRONG with people???? Is it just that I’m an ajnabeea? Do you think he does this with Kuwaiti women also? What would make someone think that that kind of behavior is ever appropriate?

There is definitely something in the stars lately because this isn’t even the worst thing that has happened to me lately. I can’t discuss the worst. I wish I could, but too many people reading this know who I am (if you really really want to know – write to me and I’ll send you the excerpt). I liked it when I used to be anonymous and could write about EVERYTHING. Maybe I should start another blog called, “freaky shit” (yeah, as if the freaky shit you’re finding here isn’t bad enough, right?).

I’m going to the US at Christmas for another reality break: Family, Nemacolin Woodlands Spa in Pennsylvania for hot stone massages… ooooo saaaaaaa.

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Sunshine on the Clock Tower Dome

This is all a very random kind of post and I really couldn’t decide how I was going to title it. I decided on something related to the most positive part of my day (so far)….

This morning on my way to work, I noticed the clock tower at Seif Palace (built late 1800's/early 1900's). I have been driving by there for the past 11 years and I’ve never really paid particular attention/notice to it. Maybe this morning it was because of the way the light was hitting the gold dome – I don’t know. It was just very pretty; in a way that the Mormon temple in Maryland (I think at Bethesda) on the Beltway is at sunset with the light shining on it. The gold suddenly hits your eye and lights the path ahead. It makes you feel (for 2 nanoseconds before the next loser cuts you off) that everything is right in the world and you are exactly where you are supposed to be at that given moment.

Which is not where I was last night… I cooked tashreeb and broke part of my tooth. There was a little sliver of lamb bone and when I bit into it, there went part of my tooth, so I have to get it fixed. It hurts. There is an “emergency” tooth place near my building. Guess I should go there, but it reminds me that The Man took the Shedevil there in April after The Big March 23 Incident.

I don’t want to think of them (although I don’t mind thinking of him once in a while), but an unfortunate series of events lately has led me in that direction. I have met manipulative people in my life, but the Shedevil (formerly known as “Sheherazade” in previous posts) wins the grand prize. The Man thinks that I was mean to her, but he doesn’t know the whole story (how is it possible to “use” someone when they’ve asked for your help???) I’m sure that he knows deep down what transpired. I wonder now that if I had bought him a more expensive car than she did, that he would have stayed with me. BMW? Mercedes? Escalade? House in Colorado? Secure future? 7,000 kd cash…. What is the price? Name that lucky number.

Is that love?

Similar theme, different story…

The Romanian had a boyfriend for many years who she loved deeply (at one point until she figured him out). Nawaf always said that he wanted to marry a rich, submissive woman. Romanian isn’t either. He drove up in his new Jaguar this week to tell her how much he loves her, how badly he wants to have sex with her, and to tell her all about his new, rich stay-at-home wife. He married the perfect woman: wealthy, submissive, and willing to “take care of the home” while he is outside doing whateverthehell he wants (safe or unsafe sex?).

And on that note – doesn’t anyone have any idea that the rate of AIDS cases is increasing in Kuwait? There are something like 6,000 reported cases (last I heard). Does anyone have a figure on the latest statistics?

I don’t understand why women put up with it. Are these women (in this case, Kuwaiti) so desperate to get (and stay) married that they don’t care that their husbands cheat and “make” them stay at home while they are out on the prowl (potentially contracting Godknowswhat)? Is it so much better just to have a man around once in a while (late at night to sleep with); to cook for; to clean up after? (Why not just take a job as a maid/nanny and get paid for it; rather than paying someone else?) I could understand it more if these guys were marrying young girls who hold a rosy picture of what marriage is supposed to be – stand by your man and all that crap. In the cases I know of recently, the women are older and divorced.

It isn’t even that they are counting on the man for support. Au contraire – Dudes are benefiting rather than the other way around.

Maybe I’m not married because I have always felt it better to be my own person and to live my life without allowing someone to “control” me (not that I would stay very long with someone who tried). I don’t want anyone to abuse my trust or my intelligence. If I am in a relationship and suddenly realize that a marriage won’t last – I don’t want to be there. Bada bing.

Yesterday morning, a bird on my windowsill woke me up. I usually take the birds as signs or messages. I think I got one yesterday, but unfortunately, it has kind of bummed me out. “Perhaps something doesn’t happen TO you, but FOR you.”…

I’ve been going through kindof a melancholy phase. I don’t know why. Nothing has changed. My friends are still my friends. My health is still good (except for my f-ing tooth!). My job is still ok/routine. I have met new good/decent friends and a few bad people. Things are much the same, but what is it? Naz called me out of the blue last week to tell me that he feels (he’s psychic) that this is a very good period in my life when I am grounded; a good starting point for things to come. Why is it that I feel down? Very odd. Do you think that I need more chocolate in my diet? I do. Maybe I need to go shoe shopping again (although I just bought a kickass pair of purple shoes that ROCK).

This is all very deep, isn’t it? On to something totally different.

BTW – my very favorite pair of shoes is the Dolce & Gabbana pair that Slapperella bought first at Villa Moda. They were expensive, but damn I’m worth it.

I know I’m a total loser, but I just discovered Facebook (no, not because of the article in Bazaar because I “discovered” it 2 days before). I used to think of myself as relatively computer-savy, but alas there are things that I’m just not connected to yet. I have a whole new world now on Facebook. No wonder so many people get in trouble for playing on it all day (like my sisters’ employees, for example).

Ok another thing I’m retarded about – is there any way to get around the thing on iTunes that doesn’t allow users in Kuwait to download? Proxy bypass?

As a little side note: I went to the Ramadan tent at the new Movenpick Hotel at Bidaa for a subsidiary’s gabka. WOW. I love the place. The décor of the entire hotel is amazing and the food we had on the buffet was outstanding. The tent was on the beach, facing the water. The back of the tent opened up to the pools with torch-lit pathways (some with bridges over the pools) leading from the main building. I think if I was going to plan a wedding in Kuwait, that area would be ideal (as long as it’s not during the summer!). It is the closest to a romantic spot that I’ve seen in Kuwait.

The hotel I love the most in the GCC is the Royal Mirage in Dubai. It is built to resemble a Moroccan fort. Freakin amazin. I also love the Bustan in Oman, but it is slightly less romantic – although amazing in architecture and location (between the sea and the mountains).

One of my billionaire friends called me last week, wanting me to recruit a personal assistant for him. I immediately thought of one young woman I know who would be ideal. Unfortunately, she sometimes lets her self-confidence talk her out of things and can be a little unreliable; she re-scheduled the interview with him 2 times and on the third, he called me. “Your friend is an asshole.” Ex – e – queeeeeeeze mee??? 1) That is just frickin rude. 2) Billionnaires/millionaires/people who have a shitload of money are a pain in the ass. 3) Billionnaires/millionaires/people who have a shitload of money are almost always guaranteed to be cheapskates; 4) I don’t work for him (or the ones like him who ask me to do favors then blame me if something goes wrong). A similar incident happened in the past with another not-so-rich, but still politically-powerful friend who asked me for a favor and then called and shouted at me when it was taking longer than he had expected. In the latter case, I sent him an invoice for 200 kd for “consulting services rendered”, and haven’t heard from him since. In the former case, I am going to ask him for a big gift for being rude (I can’t really blow this person off, unfortunately).

I don’t like to swear. It’s vulgar.

If anyone out there wants a job as a PA to a billionaire asshole with 42 agencies/companies – and you can name your package/benefits – just let me know ( The requirements are: Westernized, extremely professional appearance/demeanor, a “yes person”, pro-active, must be willing to do both office work and personal work (making appointments for his no-doubt asshole wife and kids, schoolwork, etc.); full office skills (light book keeping, filing/organization, scheduling, corresponding with subsidiary companies and customers/potential customers, possibility of proposal/invoice writing). Proficient in English; Arabic preferred. This guy will potentially take candidates from overseas and pay for their travel to Kuwait.

Having said all that random stuff above, I would like to wish you all - Muslim, Christian, Jew ... whatever - a very happy Eid. May the light always shine on your clock tower dome. :)

Thursday, September 20, 2007

I’m In Love with the Zain Poster Boy

Very ZAIN. Not just a little zain, but very ZAIN.

I’ve nearly crashed my car a total of 3 times now because the Zain Poster Boy is looking longingly into my eyes. It’s not my fault. I have to slow down (and veer off in his direction) because he loves me. It is the look. I can tell! "I want you right here, right now, Desert Girl."

It isn’t just me – it is my girlfriends too.

He’s the guy with the dishtasha in the new Zain ads on all the street signs. Those advertising agencies should really be more careful about their content as the posters may distract drivers. This particular one has eyes that follow you wherever you go.

Anyhoo, I had a similar infatuation (although never this bad) with the Nivea Poster Boy and the Guy With The (F) Me Eyes who was running for political office during the last election. Don’t ask me what his name was or what he was running for because I’m an illiterate foreigner and I can’t read Arabic.

My girlfriends and I all agree, of course, that fantasy is much better than reality in most cases and that these guys probably have voices like pre-teen girls or that they are effeminate in other ways or that they are most likely just totally unacceptable, but hey….


PS - I just checked out Zain's website and he's not there, but holy shit - Saad Barrak shaved his moustache!

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Conspiracy Theories and Other Bullshit

I have one of those faces: People innately feel that they can tell me everything and anything. Call it a gift; call it a curse. They just talk to me. I’m a spontaneous therapist/psychologist (emphasis on “psycho”).

Recently, the trend has been conspiracy theories. I have no doctor/patient privilege which limits my ethical ability to discuss these issues in public: ergo the post.

“Masons secretly rule the world.” Oooooootay. “It is not the Israelis or Americans who rule the world – it is the Free Masons.” Admittedly, I know nothing about the Masons – other than they have a really cool temple/building in Alexandria where Shamlan and I used go to make out. It overlooks the Potomac and usually has a gorgeous sunset in the background. I also had a friend, Ray, where I used to work who was a Mason. He didn’t count because he was weird. Anyhoo, the guy who walked into my office (Palestinian) spent a total of two hours talking about how Masons secretly rule the world. I really thought that he was going to voice an Israeli/Zionist approach to conspiracy, but why the Masons? I think he read some books. This is not an issue that has “stuck in my craw”, so I’m not going to do any further research cause I just don’t care. I didn’t even think that this particular person even liked me (maybe he doesn’t?) so why did he vent his theories? “Do you know they have secret handshakes?” (taking my hand and basically giving me the same limp-wristed tweek that I’ve had a million times from arrogant people who don’t know how to conduct proper business). On another note - do you think Bush is a Mason? Hmmmmmmmmmm. Maybe this guy thought I was a closet Mason/CIA agent who might get his message back to The Powers….

“Several large (merchant) families in Kuwait have a plan to eliminate the power of the royal family and create only two classes in Kuwait: the very rich and the labor force.” Therefore, this particular dude is intent on NOT being a laborer and making himself uber rich (through a scheme). Oh No! Oh nooooo! I can’t become a commoner! “Haven’t you noticed that everyone in Kuwait drives the same cars? You can’t tell who is low class and who is high class. They want to change all of that.“ (There goes the mid-sized car market in Kuwait! The Caprice will be a thing of the past….) Well, it’s like this: The richest person on our block in the States owns 22 homes around the world. They can have anything and do anything. And yet, they still drive a 1989 GMC Jimmy. Figure that one out. Is dude labor or uber rich? Does it phucking matter? Dude also predicted that “all those Bedouins in power will just be used as laborers”. Iiiiiinteresting. This conspiracy theory doesn’t make much sense to me – at all – because the same group of Kuwaiti merchant families have been making big bucks for forever. So what? More power to ‘em. Hey – call me a laborer, I don’t care. Jimmy crack corn.

I have some conspiracy theories of my own. Like, for example the white painted lines on the roads around Kuwait: Have y'alls noticed how recently, there are a lot of roads without white lines denoting lanes? The white lines are missing all over Kuwait. My theory is that someone (same folks who have dug up my street 5 times) is stockpiling white line paint in a warehouse somewhere and they are planning to sell it back to the Government for 100 kd per drum. On the BEST days in Kuwait, most people here can't drive inside the lanes and now they take all the lane markers away?

Gotta go. I have another patient.

Random Views

Monday, September 17, 2007

Things That Make Ya Go.... WTF!

Ok, there are a lot of things that irk me, but these are some random irkdoms. And I haven’t even been back from vacation that long. This is a bad sign.

People who come to my door asking for handouts. I am actually very happy to help people because my philosophy is that you never know where angels may appear and I never want to intentionally turn away. However; there are several issues I have with people who do this and their approach. 1) Beggars: Clearly state your case. There is a woman from Sri Lanka who has shown up on my doorstep a total of EIGHT times asking for my help. I ask her, ‘How can I help you? Money? Assistance?’ She mumbles. She rambles. She tells me a story in a language that I just don’t understand. Each time, she goes away and I have absolutely no clue what she wants me to do. And she keeps coming back! 2) Manners! If I give someone money, don’t you think that they should at least say “Please” and “Thank you”? I mean – WTF! Am I “International Bank of Desert Girl” or what? Is this some kind of entitlement thing that they think they just deserve it so don’t even have to look me in the eye? I’m not a freakin ATM. I’m huuuuuuuman!

Stop ringing my damn doorbell at 8 am on weekends!!! I don't drink Pepsi!!!!

Those nasty kids who scream outside all night. I am sure they are lovely little urchins, but I lie in bed at night dreaming of their demises. IF even one of them should get close to range, I am so going to water-balloon them. (I haven’t seen a decent potato gun online in a long time.) Don’t these imps have parents? Where are the perves and kidnappers when you need them? Are they all in Hawalli? (Ok, that was totally mean and uncalled for – most especially during Ramadan. I’m going to Hell. Let’s proceed…)

My neighbors who slam their door. Again, I have morbid delusions. Why can’t they just shut the door nicely? Does anybody know who I can call to have one of those sound-proof doors made; you know – the ones you find in all the phuck flats around Kuwait? (Not that I’ve ever been in one, right?) You find those kinds of doors when you go to gaadat and they have them so no one can hear from outside. The best one I’ve ever seen was at an apartment in Rihab complex that was like a vault door with carpeting on one side and that was about 4 inches thick. (I think they were some parliament guys or something and could afford a FF with an awesome soundproofed door.) I need that kind of door or I may have to do bodily harm to my neighbors.

I am trying to be a nicer person. Really. I am.

Dumpster in the middle of my street. Again, a “WTF” moment…. The building at the end of my street was completed recently. Tenants have moved in. It is pretty. However, I guess the building management still believes that it is under construction because they have left the enormous metal trash thingy in the middle of the street. WHYYYY? I feel like I’m living in Amghara.

The delivery guys from ARAMEX. Dudes, me customer, you delivery dudes. It isn’t all about YOUR schedule. These guys don’t seem to realize that many people like me actually have full time jobs and spend very little time at home. I don’t have a khadama full time. I don’t want one. What I want is my damn clothes from Spiegel online delivered. Can’t they just call first? And, why is it that most of their delivery guys feel it necessary to write stuff on my walls outside my apartment (like graffiti for delivery guys – noting in their own personalized way that they have been there)? I had this problem previously with Pizza Hut. Why do they do that? Is it like a dog peeing on his territory? Again, am I living in Amghara?

The pump for the Big Hole next to my building. ONE year ago, after the Big Dig for the Big Hole that is to be a new apartment building next to my window, they installed a pump (to suck out the water that might be under the hole?) with the promise that they would remove it in 30 days. I was there when 4 Indian guys appeared to install the thing -- right NEXT to my car. Since then, it has been ca-chunking along all day and all night. It has broken down several times - spewing a combination of motor oil and some kind of smelly fuel - which ended up in a stream that ran under my car and down my street (yes, the one with the garbage container in the middle of it). My building hariss didn't seem to believe that it was a big deal that fumes may have caused a chain-reaction explosion (of vehicles - starting with mine and continuing around the block). No one has seemed to minded that the RIVER of oil has been left on the ground for 5 months now. Everything in my apartment is white. I have to be extra careful not to step in the muck. Why don't they clean it up??? Why don't they take the phucking pump thingy away? Who do I call? Nobody cares.

Otay, that’s enough bitching for today (maybe not, but I’ll do the rest later at sushi with The Romanian).

Slapperella gets home tonight from Ethiopia. Yippeeeeeee! I wonder if she got married… hmmm. Interesting.

Maybe with both of my best friends around, I won’t find it necessary to bitch as much. Yeah, right. Bitch bitch bitch shop shop bitch shop bitch bitch bitch eat sushi (at which point, everything is okay in the world for a while).