Now do I have your attention? I'm not really going to talk about sex. Not directly anyways.
I had an all-day seminar at the JW Marriott yesterday. I think I sprained my ass (I said "ass"). It hurts. I fell asleep twice (which was a way lower average than all of my colleagues). The only two things that really kept me awake were 1) the extraordinarily OMG-handsome owner of the company, and 2) some new guy from a subsidiary company who I had never met before who was sitting across the table from me, making eyes/returning eyes at me all day (I’ll keep you posted. I wrangled an introduction through one of my fellow managers who seemed to think it was very cute). The manager dude was probably secretly jealous, however, because we flirt with each other non-stop! He's so cute and so in love with his wife. I ditched one of the modules – only to run down to Salhiya and check out all the stuff (where, at one point, I met up with the owner of the company who was doing the same thing!) There are a bunch of handsome guys down there at 11:30 am. I am going to have to skip out of work sometime and go to Starfucks, Salhiya. If I was a man, I would be so hailag. LOL
So, after the 10 hours I spent at the seminar (ass ouchies), I went to have dinner with some girlfriends at one of the Behbehani houses. OMG – amazingly gorgeous house. I don’t know why they don’t build updated versions of the old style Kuwaiti houses. This place was a museum full of interesting and beautiful objects. I fell in love with their little Pekinese dog, George. What a fun night! There were 5 of us girls. I didn’t want to leave, but alas, I was falling asleep. I have found that I am much more active with less sleep and more alcohol. Aint that a thang?
One of the ladies made lasagna using ravioli (apparently, a Rachel Ray recipe). I had never heard of such a thing, but if you think about it – it is very easy: instead of using long strips of pasta and cheese, you substitute with cheese ravioli. It was more of a casserole with a layer of spinach and mushrooms, but very yummy and a lazy girl alternative to the real deal. Any form of lazy girl recipe is just fine with me. Par example: I LOVE the cold-brew iced tea bags. All you have to do is add a packet of Tropicana (fake sugar that I’m hooked on thanks to The Man formerly known as The Man) and a teabag into a cold bottle of water and you’ve got iced tea. That makes me so happy.
My maid threw out my brownies (not the hash kind). It happened a few weeks ago, yet I am still disturbed by it; I am having brownie flashbacks (again, not the hash kind). You know when you get your mouth all ready for something (tee hee) and then you don’t get it? Well, I made a big tray of brownies one boring Friday night (they’re all boring) and my maid comes on Saturdays. Apparently, she has never seen a real brownie before and she threw the whole tray out. I asked her about it and she said, “Oh, it was all black and looked crusty and I thought it was something burned.” NOOOOOOOOOOOOO – It was all crunchy on the outside like I like it and all gooey on the inside like I like it and WTF!!!!
Sweet… teeth… segue (too much coffee, ok?) This weekend, I went with Slapperella to her dentist, Dr. Sexy. Dentists make me nervous (gynecologists don’t – isn’t that ironic?), so I make jokes when I’m nervous. The only problem was, Slapperella had Dr. Sexy in her mouth (so to speak) and she was gagging (so to speak) because she couldn’t laugh properly with all that EQUIPMENT in her mouth. Need I say more? (I can make anything sound dirty.) At one point, Dr. Sexy turns around to look at something on his computer (I think he was chatting on MSN with some girl) and I told Slapperella, “He’s doing a Google search on how to do dental procedures!” Why do people take me places when they know that I will only add to their pain?
That was the day that MTC cut off my phone line for non-payment and I had to use Slapperella's while she was "under the equipment" and I got a little creative with her settings. Why do people lend me their phones on good faith when they know I'm up to no good? I’ve had kind of a busy week and it is only Monday.
Our Jahra friends came to dinner on Saturday and they’ll be back on the weekend because we laugh so much. Somebody has to bring me some camels milk again this weekend or I will become really cranky. As long as they bring the food/booze (same thing), I am happy.
And while we’re talking about good times and laughing…. I was at the Crowne Plaza this weekend and The Romanian was making me laugh about something (like she usually does - it was probably dirty) and I turned around and BAM! There was The (person formerly known as) Man. I didn’t even notice him at first, but I saw his friend’s evil face behind him (his “friend” is someone who makes The PFKA Man upset at every opportunity because he enjoys it). It was kind of cool because I just kept laughing after the 2.5 second interlude passed (sushi makes me high). The PFKA Man struggled NOT to look at me and put his sunglasses back on. Odd, but not unsurprising. The other, Bu Zega, just gave me a big, long stare; obviously collecting data to make The PFKA Man feel bad later (or to talk trash about me because he’s evil). Hey – when you have friends like that, who needs enemies? I wish I could talk more about that whole episode here, but I’m going to wait to publish it in my book. That’s right: an unauthorized tell-all book.
Sidebar: Why don't I use The PFKA Man's real name in here? I don't want to confuse you guys, but I might as well because he has already discovered this blog (checking out my favorites on my PC while I was awa, no doubt. Glad I downloaded all that porn to my USB) and there are only 4 gazillion Hamads in Kuwait anyhooooooo. Maybe the Hamad you know is the Hamad I know... It could happen. (Just think of that next time you are next to your uncle/cousin/brother/father Hamad....)
I went to dinner with Bunny at Gaucho on Thursday. A) I love Bunny and 2) I love Gaucho and C) I love Desmond the waiter at Gaucho. All was well in my world Thursday. OH MY GOD! I didn’t tell y’alls about my dream! (Why don’t we talk as often as we should???)… I had a dream/nightmare that I saw a hamster standing in front of a bunny. The bunny grabbed the hamster with his little, furry bunny paws and phucked (had intercourse with) the hamster. The hamster screamed and I woke up shouting, “Stop it! Stop it!” I woke up, washed my face, and started pondering the significance/symbolism: The 2 recent serious relationships I’ve had in the past several years were with “Bunny” (J) and Hamad/The PFKA Man(who I call “Hamster”). I have told this story to all my friends (including Bunny who has laughed the hardest) and none of them can stop laughing. It was funny, but at the same time scary. I shiver.
What is WRONG with my brain????
Birds keep flying into my apartment. My friends tell me that this phenomenon is a sign of good luck. I don’t think it is good luck for the poor birds who A) slam themselves against my plate glass window and 2) have their ass feathers plucked out by DesertDawg who thinks that she has just been bestowed with a new toy. It always happens at the precise time that my alarm clock is going off also. Isn’t that weird? What does it all mean? Anyhow, just when my alarm clock goes off means that I have no clothes on (yeah baybeeeeee!); that it is an emergency and my glasses are nowhere to be found; and that I am about to badly frighten my poor neighbors across the street making a naked mad-dash across my living room to rescue a fluttering thing and throw it out the window. Thank God I have never been bitten by a pigeon. Thank God, I have never made eye-contact with any of my neighbors across the street. I think that either would really mess me up.
AMOONA! I forgot to write about Amoona on the Rai Channel. That right thar is some funny shit. I wish they had English subtitles. I have to be home now every day during the week at 11 pm to watch this hilarious Kuwaiti soap opera. Ok, sometimes it is hilarious – most of the time it is so/so, but it is soooooooooo soooooooooooo Kuwait that I love it. If you aren’t following the story (and who wouldn’t be???)… It is the tale of two middle aged Kuwaiti friends, Amoona and (I forget the other one’s name – Um somebody). Amoona started off poor. Her friend has always been rich. Amoona’s husband traveled to Asia on buying trips for his hailag accessory shop; and on one of his trips married a Filipina lady named Leezo. Husband and Amoona get divorced. Amoona lives with her 2 fat, stupid kids in a run down house in a not-very-good area. Until…. She inherits millions from an aunt and it changes her life. She buys a villa close to her rich friend; she buys a yacht so that she can go out to sea and make trouble for her fisherman x-husband and his wife; she takes computer classes; she goes to the expensive salon with her friend. Then, her no-good husband wants her back. It is kind of like a country song; only it is a Kuwaiti soap opera. Gotta love it. Anyhoo, now both The Romanian and I are calling each other “Amoona” all the time. SHE is going to be the real Amoona, though, because she’s going to get her Kuwaiti citizenship and it is going to change her life. Then she can come to Strands with me and get her hair done properly... (she curses me inside my head).
See... that really had nothing to do whatsoever with sex, now did it?