Whining about my Saturday Alone

I had a shitty day yesterday. Don’t ask me why – it started off pretty good with an unexpected phone call from someone who I have been flirting with lately. He's the chairman of a big, successful company. I can't decide if I want to flirt with him or hit him up for a job. Can't I do both? Employer with benefits? You can still sleep together and still have a good working relationship, right? It could happen.... (Regardless, I'm sure that like All The Rest, he will disappoint me before it ever reaches the sleeping together part.)

Anyways, it was all downhill from there.

I know what you people are thinking, “Oh my God – not another whiny story about her day! Doesn’t she have anything better to talk about?” Well, if you really must know, no, I do not. I’m a boring person. The Romanian & Sheikha Minor are in Cairo (something about hanging with the Kuwaiti national handball team until 7 am each "night"…) and Slaperella is still doing her theeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesis (for like forever). Alas, I have been left alone to my own devices and either I become evil or I shop (or both).

Anyhoo, I was really looking forward to having my hair done at my friend’s new salon. My friend is never available for an appointment (she has 5 kids) which is why I stopped going to her at the old salon (in like 1999); but she assured me that her colleague was “excellent”, so I trusted her. Ok plus, I really don’t have the 70 KD to give to Strands this month (call it my own, personal economic crisis) just to have my roots done. (Strands is great, but like anything done well by-the-hour, you pay a lot for it.) So, I went to the new salon yesterday. The stylist doesn’t speak English, so we went through a young Kuwaiti girl who didn’t seem to sure of herself in her new position as receptionist. I think we got it to the point where she understood what I wanted. I wanted her to translate so there would be ab-so-lutely no question. I went to change into a gown. First mistake: a woman followed me INTO the changing room and watched me change. What is it with these lesbians? Leave me the F alone! I don’t need any serf girl holding a hanger and staring at my boobs. Then, I sat down in the chair, feeling confident that hairgirl understood what to do. However, it was not to be; she was about to PAINT my hair with bleach!!! Oh no she di’ int!!!! I bolted outa that chair, changed my shirt (sans audience) and ran out. You don’t just grab a paintbrush and paint on bleach. WTF!!! I’m so upset today. There is nothing like preparing yourself to have your hair done and then somebody f-ing it up (better before than after, however). So, it is back to Strands, I guess, where I will ask them to do only a portion of my hair.

Does anyone know a local salon that does good foil highlights/lowlights and NOT for 70 KD? I can't keep doing this.

Next, I decided to leave there and go in search of The Perfect Barbecue Grill. I want a Weber-style with wood sides (so you can put a bowl or your BBQ utensils on). I also don’t really want to pay TSC’s 49 KD for one. Anyhoo, I drove to TSC at Sharq… and wouldn’t ya know it; the entire Sharq mall was closed for Hala Hala Februrary.

Oula: Ou La Laaaa! I drove on… and my low fuel indicator came on, so I drove to the station at Dasman (Oula #101). I was the only customer at 12:30 pm. Oula seems to believe that they need to blast their safety warnings much louder than KNPC stations, so I was listening to, “Smoking is not permitted in the station…” while I was watching FREAKSHOW of station attendant pacing back and forth outside of his booth, with a stikana in one hand and a cigarette in the other (so much for no smoking in the station). Dude’s hair was longer than mine, he was wearing a black and white diamond patterned shirt that reminded me of Marcel Marceau, and a pair of black jeans with a very prominent “WOLF” across one cheek. Freakshow paced back and forth staring at me the entire time I was there, giving me distinct heebie jeebies. I knew that my day was amiss.

I searched all over for The Perfect Barbecue Grill. I went to the tin market in Sharq (cheapest in town, but having owned one, I can tell you that they rust almost immediately). I also need a barrel-type because I want to do my sister’s famous pizza on the grill and I think a barrel type or closed-cover will be better. I’m also kinda worried about too much smoke bothering my neighbors above me. I went to Ace Hardware and found a wonderful grill – for 69 KD. (Good number, bad price.) It was an oil-drum type with a little smoke stack and little wood side tables. Perfect. Too much. (And Yo! For that matter, I could get an oil drum, cut it in half and weld some legs on it for way less. Maybe that's a business to get into.... I could sell them next to the tent market at Souq Al Juma.) Then, I went to True Value and both Sultan Centers off 4th Ring Road and in Salmiya. Nada. I picked up some plants for my terrace off 4th Ring Road and visited my friends at Souq Irani to buy terracotta planters on the cheap.

I never found the Perfect Barbecue Grill. I think I might actually go back to the tin market and buy one of theirs for cheap. There are only a few more weeks until HolyShitThat’sHot anyways and I won’t be able to use it.

Does anyone know where I can get a Weber knock-off for less than 49KD?

Ok, so I carted all the junk I did manage to buy (plants, planters, a 50lb bag of dirt, hose, food from Lu2 Hypermarket) down the stairs to my apartment (with a male Kuwaiti neighbor staring at me the whole time; who SAYS there are no men in Kuwait?!); and hurting parts of me that I can’t mention right now. When they say that women of childbearing years shouldn’t carry heavy things, I suppose it is for a reason. (Perhaps female soldiers or body builders might disagree – not that they are the same thing at all, just that either or both may be offended by my statement.) Anyhoo, I think I ruptured an ovary or something. That hurt.

I realized when I got home that I could have bought that perfect barbecue grill from Ace for almost the same amount of money I spent on all the above (oh – except that I wouldn’t have been able to eat this month).

Speaking of food... for the first time in 4 years, my maid left food in my cupboard last week - which I ate. It was a cup-a-soup. She left me a nastygram saying, "Madame, I brought a soup here last week and it is gone and I was very hungry today!" No she di'int! I felt like leaving her a note (but I didn't) that said, "For what I am paying you per month, you could fill up half my apartment with ramen soup so shut up and call Hardees!" Jeez, I thought it was a gift. You don't just leave food in other people's cupboards and expect it to still be there.

Then, I had this Great Idea to replace the leaky bathroom hose thingy with a new one. I turned off the water (or so I thought) … until The Flood. I tried and tried to turn the water off to no avail. I cut my hand, and for something little, managed to bleed over just about the entire apartment AND the dog before calling the building hariss and begging him to come down and help me. He thinks I’m crazy anyways, but seeing my mascara running down to my chin and my hair and clothes completely soaked through (with water all over the bathroom floor-to-ceiling) – I’m pretty sure he’s correct. He gave me that "ooooooooo scary lady!" look. Long-story-short, he managed to install the new thingy and wouldn’t-ya-know-it; it leaks too. I cleaned up the water and the blood and went to sleep. It was 8:30 pm.

I’m still in pain today. This is what happens when people leave me all alone. Someone send flowers please.