So, the other day I'm out with The Romanian on a Boo Hunt. Okay, so what? Like there's anything better to do than to either drive up and down or sit in a restaurant and get an instant ego boost from a bunch of strangers of the opposite gender.
We drive around for a while. Slim pickins. We end up in Souq Sharq which seems to be the Elder Care Center for the boo hunt. Fine. Whatever. So be it. We sit down in Sharqia restaurant, which has the best saj sandwiches anywhere (for about.750 fils each). Not that I'm eating anything these days (but that's another story for later). We sit down and order coffee. There's a table of guys at 11:00. An old guy at 9:00 smiling at me like he's lost his mind, and way in the back at around 1:00 are a few promising guys. We don't have direct line of sight on them. Table full of guys looks okay. One guy in particular is mouthing, "I love you" towards me. I giggle. He waves very cutely. His friends all turn around and smile. It's all good and fun so far..... until.....
Why is it that people have to phuck things up so badly? They're only hurting themselves.....
Dude makes an incredibly rude tongue gesture. THAT does it! Oh. My. God. What WAS he thinking? Done.
And just in time, out of nowhere, a shumakh guy makes his move and sits directly in front of rude dude and his quite-astonished friends (they knew he F-ed up because all of them laughed at him.) Out of all of them, Shumakh Guy is the playah of the hour. He was subtle; obviously a professional hunter. Slight smile; discreet eye contact. No overt gestures. He definately got my attention (although lost it on the follow-through and he had TINY feet. ech.) You know what they say: tiny feet, tiny socks.
Disclaimer: Yes yes, we take numbers, but it is only for catch-and-release. It is very very rare that we ever call any of these guys. It is the Thrill of the Hunt rather than the actual kill. (Oh please, don't get your panties in a bunch! We're not hurting anyone. They are gaming too!)
To make matters completely worse with Rude Dude.... he follows me all over the mall. When The Romanian instrucsts me just to take his damn number to get rid of him - and I do - he (who is about as tall as my shoulders) hands me, through his little midget fingers, his (I shit you not) his PURPLE business card with silver lettering. Holy snap. As my Irish Cousin later said, "That's not a business card; it's a LOVE card."
Oh my. What to do, baba?
In honesty, I'm pining over one guy that I'll never have. I could stop myself at any time, but why? It is fun thinking about him; listening to songs that remind me of him; talking to him before I go to sleep; generally killing myself softly and repeatedly. Truth be told, if he ever did pay real attention to me, I'd probably stop being interested in him (he probably knows that). Or... maybe I wouldn't. Who knows? This dance has been going on for a loooooong time. Longer than I've allowed myself to dance it before.
Enough about that.
On the way home, a Range Rover guy shows interest in The Romanian. Here is the list of men ALWAYS intersted in her: Range Rover drivers; special forces guys; firemen; and police men. Sometimes the later even drive Range Rovers. But... it is always Range Rovers. Why? We don't know. Anyhoo, so he asks us to pull over to take his number. We do. He (good looking, clean-shaven 30-something) hands her a CD and gives her his phone number. Now, this move is rather old-school. For those of you who don't know, guys used to throw cassette tapes with their phone numbers on them into girls' cars. The music is 'sposed to be romantic... Anyhoo, dude must have gotten a wrong number because the CD was a Quran CD. Totally cracked us up. I guess maybe he could give her a niqab on their first date. (Disclaimer II: I have nothing against religious people, and I'm not saying anything derrogatory against them; however, this was out of character.)
End of Boo Hunt Story; begin something completely unrelated....
So the reason I haven't been eating anything lately is because before I left to the States, I had all that blood work done, right? It turns out that my blood sugar is high. Why? Because I eat whatever the F I want to eat. Always have. Full fat ice cream? Sure. Desert? Sure. The yellow tequila instead of the white? Of course!
I can't do that anymore. And I have to exercise. And I have to take meds. Yup. All of that.
People, go get your blood sugar checked. It is worth it. I found out a whole bunch of stuff about how high blood sugar affects your health. I can't have that.
I have The Romanian to thank. After her heart attack, she told me to go get my blood checked and to start taking better care of myself. So I did. I'm eating like a freaking bird, but the exercise is the most important thing.
My blood sugar was 6.75. They say high for normal is 5. I've got to get better edu-ma-cated on the subject and go see a nutritionist also.
Anyhoo, of course, boo hunting can be considered exercise and it makes me feel better. So there.