Being in your presence makes me less of a human

Have you ever known people like that?

I feel like I’m surrounded by emotional vampires lately – slowly sucking the life force out of me (and NOT in a good way, I might add). I have a refrigerator magnet that my friend, Mons, gave me back in 1998 that reads, “The more people I meet, the more I like my dog.” Yep. That’s kind of what I’m feelin right now.

I have met a lot of odd types lately (the odds are good, but the goods are odd) and I just want to stand them in a line and run by, smacking them as I go: smack, smack, smack, smack…. Kind of like Madeline running down a hallway with a stick, being chased by Miss Clavel. (Where the HELL did that image come from? Did that coffee boy put something weird in my latte again?)

Where are the flowers? Where is the romance? Why doesn't anybody just be nice to me and not want anything for it? Sniffle, whimper.

Shoes. I need to buy shoes. Everything is set right again with shoes.

I know it is time for vacation. The Romanian and I haven’t even discussed much about the trip lately because we are of the same mindset that talking about it will jinx it. We just smile – knowingly. Hand me that French martini…. Let's go to Designer Shoe Warehouse....

There is a Kuwaiti expression, “teezain fi serwal” which translates to “two asses in one underwear”. I love that expression. It is about the ultimate friends. Bil Englaisee, y’anee, mumkin shay like “of the same mind” – which is less crude, but really doesn’t have the same affect. The Romanian and I are like that – we are really good friends. Unfortunately, the thongs we wear would never accommodate two, but that is quite another story.

No, we are not lesbians (Purgy!) and sometimes I wish we could be. Quite frankly, the men I have met lately have promoted same-gender relations. As in, “Dude, you are the poster child for lesbianism."

I have never learned that Arabic/Kuwaiti transliteration language. Would someone send me a chart. Alls I know is 7 = ha. N’est pas?

I don’t know what has happened to me at work lately. I mean, it isn’t even close to being time for bonuses or anything – I’m just really creative and working really hard on self-imposed projects. I think I’m starting to make one of my fellow managers upset because I’m making him look bad, but I can’t help it. For some reason, I’ve just got a creative bug up me arse (that’s Briddish for “ass”, ‘mericans!) lately.

Since I'm moving out of my apartment, I decided to dismantle the damn door bell (as in - rip it the hell out of the wall). BE GONE, BEGGARS! I'm LIBERATED. I can't tell you how much I like not having that tone every evening. No more DVD guys or street urchins ringin' my door and upsetting my dog. Go ahead - knock till your knuckles hurt. Me givesashit not.

Golly jeepers, but I'm in a mood! Must go now and eat chocolate. Godiva has raspberry truffles that are almost as good as the raspberry cordials that they can't sell here (cause they have .00000000023 percent of alcohol). I bought a "small box" for 7 kd. Yummmmmm. If I only had a quart of tequila to wash them down with.

Latah my peeps. Desert Girl out.