Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Tuesday, January 28, 2014


I have a feeling I am going to be writing a LOT about these guys.  I heard from a groomer friend that he just went to work for them and the words he used were, "humane" and "professional".  Hmmmm....  So far, so good.  Thank God, I don't have to drive 45 minutes down to the other place if I can find a place closer to home for grooming (and since it is in Shaab - with plenty of decent restaurants around so I don't end up waiting at the Seashells resort).  Bada bing.  I've also heard that the obedience trainer that PetSpa has is from South Africa and has beaucoup de certifications and is gentle with dogs.  Mikey needs to go to school.

I still have been too damn lazy to call Doggy Day Care people.  Mike also needs to have his vaccinations completed before I do.

So much to do around a little farm....

Monday, January 27, 2014

Looking for a Forever Home for my Pet Goat, Paco

There are still 2 more months of camping season (until April 1). I'm looking for a home for Paco with other Czech goats after the season.  Maybe he can start a family.  

Paco is an intact, 5-year old, bi-color (1/2 white, ½ brown) male with a friendly, happy temperament.  He's good with other animals.  He probably wouldn't be good in an apartment (although he's quiet).  He likes room to run and kick his heels up (literally). Czec goats like to climb things.  Paco likes to eat raisins.    He smiles when he's happy (as above) and makes noise when he's upset.  If he likes you, he'll quietly follow you around.  He's such a great goat.

Does anyone know anyone with Czech goats in Kuwait?  I would love for him to be with other goats and remember his goat life. Right now, he thinks he's human.  

SIDEBAR:  Czech goats are not good for eating.  Their meat is very tough. They don’t taste good.  Everyone in Kuwait knows this.  Don’t even think about it.

When bells go off

My mother always told me to listen to my intuition; something that I have learned was very good advice.  If something doesn't feel right or seem right, don't do it.  If it seems dramatic or not, I usually follow my instinct.  If I like someone; I like them.  If I don't like someone; I don't.  There isn't usually a whole lot of gray area.  If someone comes across as sincere and kind, I'll know it.  If shady, secretive or sneaky, I can usually detect that (unless, as many cases have proven - and you can read about it on the blog - people are just too guarded and disguised to be able to tell).  I'm not always right, but I try to go by instinct.

One of the first weekends that we had our camp put up in November, a guy came to visit who I had seen before, but never had the warm-and-fuzzies for.  He was one of those people who just rubbed me the wrong way.  I quickly found out why; he was a creep.  My friends tell me that I'm too quick to judge sometimes.  But hey, I do.

Creeper dude had been sent to help me earlier in the night to go and pick up one of our friends from the main road.  It was after the big rains and we needed a 4 wheel drive to get in and out of the area.  So, we went in Creep's car.  The minute we got away from the camp, he had his hand on my leg, telling me how attractive I am, and why don't I have a boyfriend, etc.  I totally brushed him off.  We went back to the camp and everything was ok.  Our friends stayed for a few hours and left.

I'm the only single girl in our camp.  My tent is the one (that shouldn't be, but is) on the outskirts of the camp, closest to the parking opening.  My tent should really be inside somewhere, nestled between the guys' tents, so it would be more secure.  But it isn't.  It has only bothered me on this one occasion; and that was one night when I went to sleep before everyone else and they moved on into the big tent (where the music was so loud that you couldn't hear a thing outside).

Creeper dude must have seen me go to my tent.  Everybody knows that I sleep earlier than everyone.  Now, in Arab culture, when you approach someone'st tent, you approach from the front and announce yourself. Most of my camp buddies cough or clear their throats (or shout rude names for sport).  I was alone in my tent, changing my clothes when I heard someone call my name from the side of the tent.  I didn't know that the tent's side door wasn't tied down.  Half Creep's body was inside my tent and he was watching me undress!  I had a fit.  I called my friend, MO (basically the Ring Master for our entire little circus) who immediately came over and reassured me that they had kicked Creep out of the camp and he would never be returning. (MO's girlfriend later told me that Creep had walked into her/MO's tent unannounced earlier the same night when she was half-dressed as well!)  MO said he and our guy friends would "have words" with Creep (I've seen their "words" before - up to hospitalization.)  They offered to switch my tent with one of the other guys.  They tied down and locked all the openings on my tent.  It was all good.

I've known MO for 10 years.  He's like a brother to me.  I adore him.  I've never had a fight with him about anything. Not small.  Not large.  He is someone who automatically understands my moods and my concerns, and acts on them without being asked.  When I travel, he hands me money (not that I need it or I want to accept it, but because it makes him feel better).  When I'm sick, he brings me, or orders me food or sends friends to check on me.  He takes me to the doctor.  He checks on me if he hasn't heard from me.  He gets my car fixed.  His family is my family.  His girlfriend is a dear friend.   He has a huge (and I do mean huge) circle of friends who have become my friends and invited me to their homes and into their families.  There is love and mutual admiration.

Back to my story....

So now, almost 3 months later, I went to the camp as usual.  All the friends were happy and chatting.  I went to my tent for something and one of the guys called and said that Creep was on his way over to the camp!!! They said they missed him and wanted to talk to him.  I had a FIT.  I don't like the caller anyways, so I hung up on him.

I went to the big tent to find MO,  who got angry at ME.  He thought I was overreacting and that I should talk to him later about it.

 I now listen to alarms in my head.  Respect is a big deal to me ("overreacting" or not).  Surprisingly (to even me), it took me less than 15 minutes to load all my stuff (sans furniture, of course) and dog and dog-belongings into my car and leave.   I don't take personal safety for granted (and you can refer to "Not Without My Camaro" for a case study).  If there was to be a creep in the camp and no one was going to be there for me, I was out of there.  No one tried to stop me.  No one came to help me.  The metaphor of "quietly packing up the tent and moving under darkness of night" applied to me.

I'm trying to gauge my own reaction:  was it OTT-me being dramatic, or a 4-department alarm?  I question everything and in "girl style," analyze the crap out of a situation until it almost makes no more sense to me.  I do take my safety very seriously.  I think if we, as women, let something go once, a creep will take it as an indication that he can advance.

What I never expected was that the situation with Creep would affect my friendship with MO.  Never in a million years.  This is a guy who has had my back for the past 10 years.  It went without question that he would think of me first.   I value our friendship very much, so I think it was worthy to talk it out.  I called him immediately the next day to talk.  I send SMSs to tell him that I love him and maybe it was just a snap decision and there was something I was missing or didn't understand.  (Take the higher road and just do it.)

So why hasn't he returned any of my calls?  Why didn't he come after me that night? Why didn't he send me messages in the morning?  Why didn't he understand my concern?  Why would he have ever considered inviting the guy back again?  I don't get it.  Creep didn't just do it to me, he did it to MO's girlfriend also.  He's a peeping Tom and who-knows-what-else.

I hate that I'm not going to go back to the camp again. It was my happy place.  What about my baby, Paco? What is going to happen to him?  What about my extended group of friends?  Will I not be included in the group anymore?  Sadness.

But ....  everything in life is a blessing from God.  You might not always know why.  Maybe something bad would have happened on the road on a weekend-to-come.  Maybe I am meant to be at another place and meet other people or do other things.  Maybe I shouldn't depend so heavily on people.  Maybe there is another lesson to be had.

I guess I'll just have to wait and see what happens with MO.  I read his tarot the night before this all happened and it said that he is having petty arguments with many of his friends and family now and it is a situation that will continue until he can take a step away from it and re-evaluate things (like to travel and get a different perspective).  I could see by his facial expressions that I was correct.  He sent me an SMS this week saying that he was very tired and moody and that he would be in touch with me soon to talk.  I do value him; he is important to me.  I just wonder if waiting to talk is a good idea for me.  Once hurt, I tend to retreat and it is not a good thing for long-lasting friendships/relationships.  Once broken, the plate is hard to glue back together.  I'm usually on to something new.

I think I'll go visit my old old old old friends this weekend.  Recharge.

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

DG's Thoughts on Kuwait's Archaic Tenancy Law

Ok, now let me discuss my thoughts on Kuwait's archaic tenancy law:  It sucks.

There is rampant discrimination (because landlords CAN because there are NO LAWS AGAINST IT).

  • Single woman (of any nationality/race)?  You're a prostitute.  Forget about the apartment, whore! 
  • Single man (of any nationality/race)? You party all night and bring in prostitutes (who don't have their own apartments because no one will rent to them). You will also make it a "den of vice" bringing in gambling and alcoholism and possibly even drugs.  The landlord's daughters are not safe.  You are The Devil.
  • Kuwaiti single man or woman:  Forget it.  You're just shit out of luck.  Why don't you live with your family?  Something is wrong with you!  Why doesn't your father want you at home?  What did you do
  • Kuwaiti families?  No way.  You will trash the apartment and make noise all night, and your kids will run around screaming and marking up all the walls,  and your entire family will leave all your shoes in the hallway (ok, that last part is true, regardless.  I'm still going around hunting for pairs of size 9 Jimmy Choos, but all I'm finding are crappy slippers).  

So, what do you see in ALL the ads?  "Westerners only".  And even if you see "Foreigners Only" it still means "Westerners" because if you are from many other countries of the world (and there are a few more), they'll just turn up their nose at you like you're going to be consistently late on your rent or divide their property into many little cells (with corrugated steel walls) so that you can sublet to your hundred friends and all of y'alls will cook fish 24/7 (I like fish, by the way.)

"There goes the neighborhood..."

Housing discrimination.  In the US it is a crime.  It should be a crime here.

There should be a proper tenancy law to protect both the landlord and the renters PROPERLY.  There should be rent caps and anti-discrimination clauses.  (I've been looking for the Kuwait Tenancy Law online and I haven't been able to find one.  I've got a book called "Everything You Need to Know About Kuwaiti Laws" which contains the law.  I got it at Muthanna Book Store ages ago.)

Anyhooser, people are starting to talk about update of the Kuwait Tenancy Law since rents are skyrocketing (also known as GREED) and everybody here is suffering; even the greedy who have lots of empty apartments (known as the "cut off your nose to spite your face" method of property ownership.  They would rather have it empty for a year and half than to come down off that magical number - like 900kd for a 2 bedroom "ultra deluxe" (by whose standard???) apartment.

So what do you do?  Set up a tent?  No, because the frickin Municipality has some kind of mental telepathy and can tell when anyone is even close to passing wind on or around government land.  It is called, "encroaching".  They have bulldozers (brought in by quiet and stealth black helicopters when no one ever sees/hears them); they appear from nowhere with one extremely mean guy in a distasha who barks non-sensical things and waves papers frantically;  Scares the shit out of you.  It is meant to daze and confuse.  So just forget the tent idea.  It isn't going to work.  Oh, all this paragraph also pertains to planting seedlings and/or flowers or foliage.  Just pop in a petunia anywhere and see what I mean;  black helicopters and bulldozers, my friends.  Yup.  You heard it from me.

Oh no he di' in't!

I get a text message this morning from a casual friend saying that he can't sign on an apartment that he wants because he's Kuwaiti and they only rent to foreigners; and will I sign his lease.

[Ok, I will get into my thoughts on Kuwait's blatantly racist (often against their own people)  housing practices in a moment, but let me start on the topic first of ....]

Oh My God, he did not just send me that on an SMS, did he?  You couldn't just drop by and ask me in person?  But a text message after I haven't seen you in what... weeks?  Please!  Oh yeah, and ya KNEW I was sick and there were no offers of chicken soup or helping ME in any way/shape/form.

First of all, we are casual friends.  Really casual.  We share a singular interest and that's it.  We're not involved in a romantic relationship.  We're not in love.  We don't date.  He doesn't know my friends and I don't know his friends.  I thought, at first, that perhaps we could have all that, but I realized early on after he stated that he is a "single guy and doesn't want to be tied down."  Hey - who's tying you down.  Fly and be free, little butterfly...  I do like him and he likes me and we talk once in a while.

But.... I don't know him well.  I know him CASUALLY.  I don't know his family.  I don't know (fer sure) what he does on the weekends.  I don't know who his friends are or who he might be bringing to my (if I should sign a lease) apartment.  It's not going to happen.

You know, "taking advantage" or "masla7a" (Kuwaiti word for the same) is a strong term and I hate to use it with people I like, but it is exactly that.

People take advantage.  Push to see how far you can get.  Get one over.  It always surprises me when someone actually has the balls to ask for things (whether I know in advance that they are outrageous requests - or whether I later discover are outrageous requests).

I'm a giving person.  It is in my personality and perhaps that is a downfall, but I find satisfaction/gratification to helping others (to a phucking EXTENT).  Don't push me, mofo.

In Apartment Dude's case, I could have shot him down or said mean things (or even signed the lease and then sold all of his stuff and moved), but I handled it very diplomatically and said that perhaps if we were ever in a serious relationship in the future when I had met his family and friends, gone out to meals with him in public, felt comfortable and trusted him, and would actually get to someday SEE the apartment I was signing on, then I would reconsider.

And now, let's get to those people who want me to carry back heavy shit on the plane.  When I ask, "Would you like anything from the States?" it usually to be polite (like asking "How are you?" You really don't want a real answer, it is more of a courtesy question)  - or - if I can get something that is small and you can't find in Kuwait.  I'm not talking about carrying back car parts, computers, commercial items in volume for your business (when you can find it down the street in KUWAIT for slightly more money).  Sometimes I don't even offer and I get the questions.  No, I can't bring back a frickin transmission for your 19-some-shit Chevy shitbox.  No, I don't want to bring back 300 bottles of Essie nail polish (that was a cheap move by the way) when it is at Jashamal for a little more and you know it (I do now!).  No, I'm not going to carry back a laptop, or a 4lb bottle of car spray-wax or 20 books.  Uh NO - I'm not going to front you $1500 for the UGLIEST Burberry bag I've ever seen in my life and then bring it back for you.

Here goes, freeloaders:  ARAMEX SHOP and SHIP.  SULTAN CENTER "JUST ASK" SERVICE.  What is your problem?

Do people even get the airline's baggage policies and how much they charge.  I bring back 2 suitcases of MY STUFF every time I travel.  I fly United:  First bag is free, second bag is $100. I weigh (with a baggage scale) 50lbs each (23kilos) of MY STUFF.  Now, if you're springs for your Cadillac - which will actually fit into a suitcase - weigh an additional 50 kilos, the third bag costs $200 (around 57dinars).  Or, for all those "small items" combined, it would still run me an additional $200 that I end up paying.

No more Ms. Nice Girl.  I'm out.

Sunday, January 19, 2014

Busted Again.... and Again

It should come as no shock to me now that people have figured out my true identity.  I've been doing this for so long and there are so many "clues" throughout the posts that it is pretty obvious, but still, ok.... it is still surprising to me when people walk up and say, "Are you Desert Girl?" and strike up a nice (always nice!) conversation.

Last week, I was getting Peealot his vaccinations and a lovely woman and her husband walked up and asked.  See, this is why I blog.  I love the compliments and people who take the time to thank me for little things.  Gratitude is a powerful thing, I always say, and it works both ways.  A few words mean so much and it made my day/week.  Love it!  Thank you, A!  You are too sweet and I hope that you and your family are enjoying your adventure here.

I also went to see The Messila Gang (Desert Guy's cousins/friends) this weekend and my friend, Posh (that's your new name, girl) and her man (I'm just going to go ahead and do something silly and call him "Becks" as his name begins with a B and that's who Posh is with, right?), Becks, were giving me funny looks.  Now, I'm no stranger to funny looks by any means.  I get them all the time.  But these two looked downright mischievious.  Tee hee.  Posh is a reader.  Who knew?   She's not just pretty and elegant, but girlfriend is intelligent enough to have some of my characters figured out (like Puppy Dude).  We had a lot of laughs that night.    (Not too much chance - for many reasons -  that Puppy Dude will read blogs.  Whew!)

Peealot is sick at the moment.  He eats everything/anything without even chewing; just gulps and it's gone.  IVH's x-ray machine was on the fritz this weekend, so we couldn't see 'zactly what is down in there, but I'm guessing it is either coinage or some form of plastic.  Either way, he's sick and it is like having a sick child.  I hate it.  Desert Dawg continues to be a sincere biotch to him.  At first, I thought that Mikey was being too rough with her (she's so much smaller and frailer than he is), but then after talking to my sister who went though a similar situation with her old bitch and young puppy; that perhaps it wasn't the rough boy's fault.  I paid more attention and sure enough, that little bitch, DD, is snapping at him even if he's across the room and looks at her!  WTF.  She's just downright ornery.  She bites him and growls and barks at him.  Eventually (so says my sister) she will get used to it, but for now, she's just being evil.  I'm trying to give them both equal attention.

I had a forced-quiet weekend.  Not that I wanted it that way.  With 3 days off, I thought I could finally get down to the camp and spend some time with "nature" (that's what I call Jose Cuervo combined with my friends).  I've been so sick since I got back her on the 2nd that I just couldn't do it.  Forget about spending the night in the tent; no way.  And what's with this weather???  I haven't seen so much rain in the winter in like... ever.  Every weekend, my tent smells like cat pee from the damp.  It's just nas-teh.   Anyhooo, not that I would spend the night (or even a lot of time in the cold) because I've had bronchitis.  I get tired doing even mundane tasks (like mopping up puppy pee - more on that in a moment).  I finally gave in and went back to my doctor (for the 3rd time in as many weeks) and got a shot in the ass (literally) of B12 so I would have more energy.  Then, I ate all the vitamins in my medicine cabinet.  I actually feel a LOT better this morning.

Puppy pee (because I know you've been waiting for this, right?):  So, while at IVH, I asked their trainer about the persistent pee problem (PPP or P3 to be accurate).  P3 is like this:  Dude makes a little puddle and then, like he can't turn off the faucet, walks around creating a lovely stream of pee drops throughout my house and in the yard.  NO!  He hasn't figured out the Art of Housetraining yet.  So, I asked the trainer.  He said that it is normal (I thought it was a boy-thing that I didn't know about and apparently it is), and that at age  6 to 8 months, he'll stop.  WHAT????!  6 to 8 months???  We'll all drown!  it will be like going down on the Titanic.  THAT MUCH pee!  As it is, I follow him around with a mop and a bucket.  I buy more lavendar-scented cleaner than the stores here can stock (but it smells sooooo pretty and not at all like pee...).  How am I going to endure this for 3 to 5 more months?  I'll surely perish!  Yikes.  The dogs I've had have always learned in under a month.  This guy just does whatever the F he feels like.  I'm like, "MIKEEEEEY!!! You're not finished!  Complete the pee!"  Why the trail?  RRRR. 

So this weekend, I went to Banta where they sell washable, inexpensive carpets. I can throw the entire thing in my washing machine whenever I want.  The carpet cleaners I've found here are expensive (20kd per carpet - even the small ones - eeek). I'm lovin' Banta.  Ikea used to have cotton carpets, but it seems that they don't make them anymore.

(Why do people read my mundane ranting?  I don't get it.  Are you still with me?  Really?)

Ok, so while I was at the camp this weekend (while the weather was sunny and dry for like 2.5 nanoseconds), I taped Paco (my goat) and Mikey playing.  They have a bromance.  They're in puppy/goat love.   Paco sees Mikey from a distance and runs right over to him and starts his dance.  I love it.  They're so cute.  (Now THIS here is entertainment, y'alls.)  I would keep Paco in my house if I could get away with it.  He's dog-sized anyways and pees very neatly.  Baaaaaaaaa

(It's not poor sound quality you're hearing - it is our bigass generator in the background and of course the lovely prayer call that reminds us all to pray at the crack of dawn (when we're going to sleep); courtesy of the very considerate neighbors in the camp across the road.  Thank you so much.)

Tuesday, January 07, 2014

People who talk about their kids all the time nauseate me

(Faked puking noises)

Ok so I get it. I really do.  Your child if fascinating and you want to share your experiences(especially with friends).  But... THEY DON'T GIVE A CRAP.  They don't.  I'll give it a limit of maybe 5 stories (or stories shared over several visits/lunches/dinners intended to be catching up sessions with your friends.)  That's it.  After that, eyes glaze over and you can't get a glass of wine in this country so there is NO ESCAPE.  (I'm ranting, right?)

But this is MY blog and you can stop reading.  You don't have to listen to me go on and you're not paying for my lunch, so shut up.

Let's talk about my baby, Mike Peealot!

So, last night was the first time he had experienced (lots of) grass (like the kind that you find in gardens and golf courses).  I love re-visiting the same old common things that we take for granted every day through the eyes of either a newcomer or a first-time experience of another (in this case) creature.  He ran a straight line with his head down and his mouth open as if he was scooping up water.  I think he was taking in all the new smells and feel of the cold grass.  He stopped every once in a while to roll around in it and was thoroughly happy.  I'm trying to train him (OMG he is STRONG at 3 months!) so I am trying to take him out when there are only a few people around so he won't be distracted  (also so he doesn't knock down any little old ladies with his sheer force). So far, he is extremely focused (which is great since he is still so young) and doesn't care about kids, other animals (even including cats). I think perhaps socializing him with Desert Dawg has helped in that regard.  She is not only semi-human, but also catlike and a little old lady.

I took him home from the park (yes, we have those in Kuwait) and thought (mistakenly) that he would be tired.  Ha!  He slept for a while and I woke at 1:00 am to the sounds of what I thought were distant gunshots.  Pop!  Pop!  Pop pop!  I went out (had to put on my flip-flops first to avoid puppy pee puddles) in the living room (armed with my AK - ha ha, just kidding - or not.  Don't come to my house late a night without calling first.) and discovered that Mikey had taken a sheet of large bubble wrap out of the trash.  WHO can resist bubble wrap??  I axe ya.  He had the sheet between his humungous front paws and was popping the bubbles one at a time like a little kid.

I love this little guy.  He's pure joy and thinks the world is his toy.

Speaking of toys - I got him the COOLEST dog toy EVER (at BBB).  It is called, "The Doggy Bag."  It is harder than Hell to get batteries into, but once you're in, it will keep your dog busy for hours.  I had to take it away from MP because he was barking so loud at it. It is a ball in a burlap bag that it motion-activated. It bounces, barks, makes panting noises.  Hilarious.  I couldn't install the batteries, so I took it to our Director of IT (why bother a tech when you can irritate a Director?) and asked him to do it for me ('You have all the right tools.' yes, he does.)  He asked me what it was.   I told him. 'Can you help me fix my ball?'  He said it added a new definition of "scared the crap out of me." He didn't think that he had installed the batteries right because it wasn't doing anything and then all of a sudden it stared shaking around and barking at him (in his office!)  ha.  I love that.  If I knew it would get that reaction, I swear I would have done it to him intentionally just for giggles.

Hey, don't judge me!
Keep your inner child alive!

Another cool thing I found in the States was a LED-lit dog leash (at a whopping cost of $5).  They are coming up with some COOL items.  I just grabbed one (I should have bought a bunch) because it is PINK.  Yes, Mike does look kind of weird walking around with a hot pink leash - not very masculine - but I don't care.  It's AWWWWESOME.

They never had these things when I was a kid. Well, even when Desert Dawg was a puppy.  I'm having so much fun with this.

Monday, January 06, 2014

Rough Re-Entry

I had a great time in the States.  Everything was perfect; the family, the weather, the Christmas decorations... the total package.  I caught up with some old friends and had a lot of giggles. I spent a lot of time with my mommy.   I finally opened the bottle of champagne that my dad gave me on my 18th birthday.  I had been saving it for a time in my life when I was really happy.  Mashallah, I am happy.  Although champagne THAT old (no, I'm not giving my age away) tastes like pee (just guessing).  It was not a good taste.  Props to my dad, however. Thank you, Daddy.

(I didn't drink tequila until I got back to Kuwait, by the way.  I know - totally unusual, but I was into Irish Coffees and French Martinis.  What can I say?  I'm international.)

So on the horrendously overbooked United Airlines flight on the return to Kuwait (packin' 'em in 4 times a week rather than on a previously-daily schedule), I sat next to Hack-and-Spew Man.  He hurled up loogies at an alarming rate, constantly, for the 12.5 hour flight;  Making MY re-entry into Kuwait not a pleasant one. H&S Man infuckted me.  I'm a lady, however, and never hock loogies.  It's rude and not done in polite society, n'est pas?  I got away with a very bad 3-day-long headache, fever,  runny nose (red and cracking from tissue abuse), and then, stomach problems.  Oh joy.

I was okay for about 5 hours when I arrived to Kuwait; including the ride home with a gorgeous man sent by my friend who had an emergency and couldn't pick me up.  (Send MORE!)  I admit, I was miffed when I heard he wasn't coming.  I had thought that for once, I would be greeted by a group of my friends and that one of them might even have a flower. That is my dream; on this side or in the States.  Just one flower or a balloon when I get there.  Why not?  But alas, tall gorgeous CID man driving a Merc G series (black, bien sur) had to do. Too bad he's married.  Dayum.

Let me back up a little:  I could have started getting sick the day I received an SMS from a friend announcing the reduced speed limits in Kuwait.  Twas the night after Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was spared as I shouted, "WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUUUCK!"  (My mother thought someone had died.)  Yes, they have reversed the decision now (thank you!), but not before I had a mild cardiac arrest and started looking at 10 year old Lancers for sale.  Why should I drive a Camaro if I can only go 100kph on the highway?  That's like a rural road in the US - NOT why I came to Kuwait.  Yeah yeah, it would save lives, blah blah blah... but many States in the US are even raising the speed limits (again, in rural areas).  At Kuwait gas prices, let dem horsies RUN!

My friend, E, kept my baby while I was out of town (the car).  I was a little concerned about it until I got back to discover how much work he had done on it (maintenance stuff and a little damage from a ding I got on Bidaa Roundabout).  So nice.  I've been helping him with a little banking issue in the States that I finally managed to get finalized.  I don't know if we're even, but I got him his $20K so perhaps.  That should cover it, right?

I saw the Kuwaiti family when I returned, but I was so sick that most of it was a blur.  They know I love fish and made it special for me, but when your stomach is doing flip-flops, fish is the last thing you want to see.  It was great regardless.  I love that family so much.

Clean/Dirty was there.  Something is happening with him.  I knew he would eventually feel guilty and like everything you do, it comes back around. His 2 brothers didn't give him "permission" to talk to me; they still sit on both sides of me and are still very protective (which I find cute and ironic at the same time).   He wanted me to take his car (mine's a manual gear) because I didn't feel good and he thought it would be easier for me to drive.  I don't know what that was all about, but he insisted on it.  I insisted on driving my car.  What does he want?  Pshhhh (she said with a head-toss to the side).

My friend, CG, stayed with my dogs while I was gone.  That woman is a saint.  Desert Dawg is no problem, but the new one is Hell on paws.  He's like a teen-aged boy.  He's pushing 3 months old now (his 2nd ear just went up) and everything is a toy; including water dishes which he likes to slap his paw in and eventually knock over.  His Indian name is Pee-a-lot.  I swear, if I turn around for 2 seconds, there is a new puddle.  (Thank you SO much, CG!!!)   He knows he's being naughty; he gets the guilty look.  He is fine in the desert when he's away from DD (really obedient and submissive), so I think it might be a jealousy thing.  We are going through the transition phase in our little family; everybody is getting to know each other.  DD isn't enjoying it; although when she's not getting negative attention from Sir Pee-a-Lot, she'll run over to him until he bops her again with his gigantic paw; like a club.  He's almost got a complete understanding of "speak" and "don't speak" on command.  He's really a smart guy, Mashallah.  He's from very good stock.  His parents are valued at around 6,000KD a piece (champion line).  I got lucky with the little shyt (Mashallah).

DD is pushing her 17th year now.  I had planned to get a GS after she went.   As my friend, Hmood said, "Maybe he came to you as a blessing the way he did."  He just kind of fell into my care when I didn't expect it.  My sister has told me something similar before; to prepare myself and that it might be better to get a puppy before it happens.  Personally, after 17 years with any living creature, I don't think there is any way to prepare.  It is going to be awful.  I'm getting more emotional now that I'm almost in my 30's (ha ha, good one, DG!).

Anyways, dog-story-short, I've got a cranky bitch and a puppy that pees constantly (and not in a neat little puddle, but more of a puddle and stream-trail) and dealing with all that crap (and I mean that quite literally) just is no good when you have the flu and are tired and jet-laggy-assed and you have a headache and no one is calling you to bring you frickin soup (yeah, I remember, girl - thanks for the memories) or sending PINK FRICKIN ROSES, damn it. OOOOOOOH SAAAAA, Desert Disaster.  It otay.

It is 2014 and you are blessed.  You is smart.  You is kind.  You is important. (You guys too!)