I’m In Love with the Zain Poster Boy

Very ZAIN. Not just a little zain, but very ZAIN.

I’ve nearly crashed my car a total of 3 times now because the Zain Poster Boy is looking longingly into my eyes. It’s not my fault. I have to slow down (and veer off in his direction) because he loves me. It is the look. I can tell! "I want you right here, right now, Desert Girl."

It isn’t just me – it is my girlfriends too.

He’s the guy with the dishtasha in the new Zain ads on all the street signs. Those advertising agencies should really be more careful about their content as the posters may distract drivers. This particular one has eyes that follow you wherever you go.

Anyhoo, I had a similar infatuation (although never this bad) with the Nivea Poster Boy and the Guy With The (F) Me Eyes who was running for political office during the last election. Don’t ask me what his name was or what he was running for because I’m an illiterate foreigner and I can’t read Arabic.

My girlfriends and I all agree, of course, that fantasy is much better than reality in most cases and that these guys probably have voices like pre-teen girls or that they are effeminate in other ways or that they are most likely just totally unacceptable, but hey….

THEY ARE FUN TO LOOK AT.



PS - I just checked out Zain's website and he's not there, but holy shit - Saad Barrak shaved his moustache!

Conspiracy Theories and Other Bullshit

I have one of those faces: People innately feel that they can tell me everything and anything. Call it a gift; call it a curse. They just talk to me. I’m a spontaneous therapist/psychologist (emphasis on “psycho”).

Recently, the trend has been conspiracy theories. I have no doctor/patient privilege which limits my ethical ability to discuss these issues in public: ergo the post.

“Masons secretly rule the world.” Oooooootay. “It is not the Israelis or Americans who rule the world – it is the Free Masons.” Admittedly, I know nothing about the Masons – other than they have a really cool temple/building in Alexandria where Shamlan and I used go to make out. It overlooks the Potomac and usually has a gorgeous sunset in the background. I also had a friend, Ray, where I used to work who was a Mason. He didn’t count because he was weird. Anyhoo, the guy who walked into my office (Palestinian) spent a total of two hours talking about how Masons secretly rule the world. I really thought that he was going to voice an Israeli/Zionist approach to conspiracy, but why the Masons? I think he read some books. This is not an issue that has “stuck in my craw”, so I’m not going to do any further research cause I just don’t care. I didn’t even think that this particular person even liked me (maybe he doesn’t?) so why did he vent his theories? “Do you know they have secret handshakes?” (taking my hand and basically giving me the same limp-wristed tweek that I’ve had a million times from arrogant people who don’t know how to conduct proper business). On another note - do you think Bush is a Mason? Hmmmmmmmmmm. Maybe this guy thought I was a closet Mason/CIA agent who might get his message back to The Powers….

“Several large (merchant) families in Kuwait have a plan to eliminate the power of the royal family and create only two classes in Kuwait: the very rich and the labor force.” Therefore, this particular dude is intent on NOT being a laborer and making himself uber rich (through a scheme). Oh No! Oh nooooo! I can’t become a commoner! “Haven’t you noticed that everyone in Kuwait drives the same cars? You can’t tell who is low class and who is high class. They want to change all of that.“ (There goes the mid-sized car market in Kuwait! The Caprice will be a thing of the past….) Well, it’s like this: The richest person on our block in the States owns 22 homes around the world. They can have anything and do anything. And yet, they still drive a 1989 GMC Jimmy. Figure that one out. Is dude labor or uber rich? Does it phucking matter? Dude also predicted that “all those Bedouins in power will just be used as laborers”. Iiiiiinteresting. This conspiracy theory doesn’t make much sense to me – at all – because the same group of Kuwaiti merchant families have been making big bucks for forever. So what? More power to ‘em. Hey – call me a laborer, I don’t care. Jimmy crack corn.


I have some conspiracy theories of my own. Like, for example the white painted lines on the roads around Kuwait: Have y'alls noticed how recently, there are a lot of roads without white lines denoting lanes? The white lines are missing all over Kuwait. My theory is that someone (same folks who have dug up my street 5 times) is stockpiling white line paint in a warehouse somewhere and they are planning to sell it back to the Government for 100 kd per drum. On the BEST days in Kuwait, most people here can't drive inside the lanes and now they take all the lane markers away?

Gotta go. I have another patient.

Random Views

Things That Make Ya Go.... WTF!

Ok, there are a lot of things that irk me, but these are some random irkdoms. And I haven’t even been back from vacation that long. This is a bad sign.

People who come to my door asking for handouts. I am actually very happy to help people because my philosophy is that you never know where angels may appear and I never want to intentionally turn away. However; there are several issues I have with people who do this and their approach. 1) Beggars: Clearly state your case. There is a woman from Sri Lanka who has shown up on my doorstep a total of EIGHT times asking for my help. I ask her, ‘How can I help you? Money? Assistance?’ She mumbles. She rambles. She tells me a story in a language that I just don’t understand. Each time, she goes away and I have absolutely no clue what she wants me to do. And she keeps coming back! 2) Manners! If I give someone money, don’t you think that they should at least say “Please” and “Thank you”? I mean – WTF! Am I “International Bank of Desert Girl” or what? Is this some kind of entitlement thing that they think they just deserve it so don’t even have to look me in the eye? I’m not a freakin ATM. I’m huuuuuuuman!

Stop ringing my damn doorbell at 8 am on weekends!!! I don't drink Pepsi!!!!

Those nasty kids who scream outside all night. I am sure they are lovely little urchins, but I lie in bed at night dreaming of their demises. IF even one of them should get close to range, I am so going to water-balloon them. (I haven’t seen a decent potato gun online in a long time.) Don’t these imps have parents? Where are the perves and kidnappers when you need them? Are they all in Hawalli? (Ok, that was totally mean and uncalled for – most especially during Ramadan. I’m going to Hell. Let’s proceed…)

My neighbors who slam their door. Again, I have morbid delusions. Why can’t they just shut the door nicely? Does anybody know who I can call to have one of those sound-proof doors made; you know – the ones you find in all the phuck flats around Kuwait? (Not that I’ve ever been in one, right?) You find those kinds of doors when you go to gaadat and they have them so no one can hear from outside. The best one I’ve ever seen was at an apartment in Rihab complex that was like a vault door with carpeting on one side and that was about 4 inches thick. (I think they were some parliament guys or something and could afford a FF with an awesome soundproofed door.) I need that kind of door or I may have to do bodily harm to my neighbors.

I am trying to be a nicer person. Really. I am.

Dumpster in the middle of my street. Again, a “WTF” moment…. The building at the end of my street was completed recently. Tenants have moved in. It is pretty. However, I guess the building management still believes that it is under construction because they have left the enormous metal trash thingy in the middle of the street. WHYYYY? I feel like I’m living in Amghara.

The delivery guys from ARAMEX. Dudes, me customer, you delivery dudes. It isn’t all about YOUR schedule. These guys don’t seem to realize that many people like me actually have full time jobs and spend very little time at home. I don’t have a khadama full time. I don’t want one. What I want is my damn clothes from Spiegel online delivered. Can’t they just call first? And, why is it that most of their delivery guys feel it necessary to write stuff on my walls outside my apartment (like graffiti for delivery guys – noting in their own personalized way that they have been there)? I had this problem previously with Pizza Hut. Why do they do that? Is it like a dog peeing on his territory? Again, am I living in Amghara?

The pump for the Big Hole next to my building. ONE year ago, after the Big Dig for the Big Hole that is to be a new apartment building next to my window, they installed a pump (to suck out the water that might be under the hole?) with the promise that they would remove it in 30 days. I was there when 4 Indian guys appeared to install the thing -- right NEXT to my car. Since then, it has been ca-chunking along all day and all night. It has broken down several times - spewing a combination of motor oil and some kind of smelly fuel - which ended up in a stream that ran under my car and down my street (yes, the one with the garbage container in the middle of it). My building hariss didn't seem to believe that it was a big deal that fumes may have caused a chain-reaction explosion (of vehicles - starting with mine and continuing around the block). No one has seemed to minded that the RIVER of oil has been left on the ground for 5 months now. Everything in my apartment is white. I have to be extra careful not to step in the muck. Why don't they clean it up??? Why don't they take the phucking pump thingy away? Who do I call? Nobody cares.

Otay, that’s enough bitching for today (maybe not, but I’ll do the rest later at sushi with The Romanian).

Slapperella gets home tonight from Ethiopia. Yippeeeeeee! I wonder if she got married… hmmm. Interesting.

Maybe with both of my best friends around, I won’t find it necessary to bitch as much. Yeah, right. Bitch bitch bitch shop shop bitch shop bitch bitch bitch eat sushi (at which point, everything is okay in the world for a while).

News from Lethargia

I went to a baby birth celebration at iftar over the weekend. I ran around all day yesterday looking for a gift (EVERYTHING was closed! ARGH). I finally found a gold shop in Hawalli that was open and bought something cute. I dressed like myself (t-shirt, trousers) and I should have dressed more conservatively knowing that I would be in a room full of conservative, abaya-clad Ramadan well-wishers (even though it was mixed). Alas, I’m an idiot. I sat alone for a long time (since The Romanian and Slaperella were still out of town) until the place filled up. Out of a ballroom full of people (about 200), I couldn’t believe that I was the only person who brought a gift. Is that normal?? Wouldn’t other people bring gifts? I don’t get it. In my mother’s world, you get an invitation, you bring a gift. Its simple.

I made the tremendous mistake of going to Lulu Hypermarket (that name just cracks me up) on a Friday afternoon before ftour. Let me just say, the shoppers there seem to be hyper – running around like a bunch of ants on a discarded cookie. I turned right around (once I discovered that they are open all day and through iftar time) and went back at 5:30. Lulu’s has way better produce than most places in Kuwait. (Sultan Center’s produce has been sucky for a long time; and Lulu still beats City Centers.) Lulu’s has Asian produce and stuff that I haven’t seen other places. I’m almost tempted to cook something. HA! As if. It is almost worth the drive out 4th Ring Rd and around the multiple ethnicities in the parking lot to shop at Lulu. I can’t say much about the prices because I’m one of those “Oh, just throw it in the cart,” kind of girls. The only time I really threw a fit over the price of an item was at Sultan Center when they were charging 1 kd for a 10-stick pack of Ice Breakers gum (from the States). Now that thar is just a bunch of hooey (as my aunt Virginia used to say).

I brought food to The Romanians because she returned this morning (THANK GOD, YIPPEE!) and I was sure she wouldn’t have anything in the house. As it turned out, one of our Kuwaiti friends was there with her boyfriend (apparently, she has the key and made herself quite at home). Thank God, I knocked first. I don’t need those kind of surprises. Puuuurty hailag if you ask me. Bless her heart.

Anyhoo, I picked up The Romanian and her son at the airport this morning and returned Tinkerbell into her care. I am going to miss that little dog; even though I was scared to kill her by rolling over her in my sleep. I am so glad one of the girls is back. Now I can finally have some decent sushi/conversation. I’ve been talking to myself lately. Not fun. People are staring at me even more than usual.

The embassy just called and said that my passport is ready for pick up. I’m really impressed. I dropped it off there about 10 days ago and it is finished already. Passport renewals in the States are taking up to 6 months; because now you need a passport to get into Canada and there are backlogs. I hate going to the UASS embassy, though: Too much republican-induced pucker factor. I have to say, though, that things are starting to change. I met the new FEMALE Commercial Affairs Counselor and she’s exceptionally friendly and competent. You go, girl!

Is it just me, or is this Ramadan kicking other people’s asses as well? I am so tired! I think it might be tha weathah because I can’t breathe and I’m lethargic. I’m not hungry – I just don’t feel good.

Well, okey dokey. That is about the extent of my news for now.

Name That X-Boyfriend

One of the guys in this picture is my x-boyfriend (no, I'm not kidding). Can you figure out which one? This was taken years back when a group of Kuwaiti fishermen were lost at sea for 15 days.

Mentally Stunted

(Sung to the tune of "Feelings")

Reeeee-tards

Whoa whoa whoa reeeee-TARDS...

I see stupid people... they're everywhere!

I am so sick of retarded men. No, I am serious this time (again). I am so disgusted. Is there one single man out there with an IQ above 12? I am so sick of being asked to dinner, only to find out that I AM the dinner! Don't yank my chain, buddy. I can afford to dine anywhere, anytime. I prefer to do it with someone who will share interesting conversation in a restaurant. Unless I specifically mention that I will cook for someone (highly phuckin unlikely!) in my home, then what I mean by "dinner" is the type that is purchased AND consumed in a restaurant. If you want to disappoint me by showing me that you're not a man and having me pay for my half; not a problem. But just don't disappoint me when it comes to not getting food at all because I am so NOT forgiving in that area. Once I'm set on a specific food -- its on like donkey kong.

You might be thinking to yourself, "Desert Girl, why do you even bother?" Well, THEY asked ME! It wasn't like I was begging to see someone. THEY asked ME to dinner. I guess I could just say, "No thank you. I know you are bound to be stunted."

You know - I like it much better when Slapperella, Romanian and I just go out by ourselves. I never have to worry about not getting whatever food I desire. I never feel pressured. I just enjoy myself.

When are they coming back???? I am going to die! This must be what it feels like not to have any friends. I hate this. This might possibly really be the best time to join a gym.

I'm Already Bored

The galpals are gone and now I only have the dogs to talk to. It sucks, but at the same time, maybe I'll take this as an opportunity to do house things like changing lightbulbs. I know that is a little thing, but there are other things that I just haven't gotten around to doing.



The Romanian's dog, Tinkerbell ("Tink") is staying with me and Desert Dawg. Tink has really become a character since we rescued her from the farm in Kabd this past winter. She hasn't gained a lot of weight since then -- only 1/2 a kilo, up to 2 kilos from 1.5 -- but she is a lot healthier. Desert Dawg was happy to see her again. She shows her enthusiasm by bopping her with her paw. I've had to stress to her that it is painful 'No bop Tink!'. In less than a year, Tink responds almost completely to commands in Romanian and doesn't listen to many commands in English. That's pretty impressive. I think that Desert Dawg thinks she is a pain in the ass, but she's tolerating her. Tink slept on my head last night. She has some insecurity issues. I'm glad she didn't sleep next to me because I'm scared to death I'll roll over and kill her!

Yesterday, I saw a familiar-looking face. He was walking by in the opposite direction, talking on his mobile. He said hello immediately and so did I and we both kept walking. I knew I knew him from someplace - I just didn't know where. I saw him at a camp in Mutlaa ten years ago. We spent the entire day looking at eachother and smiling (because the family that was hosting the lunch was bedu and it wouldn't have been cool to walk over and talk). I remember he was talking to someone about falcons and that he had hurt his back somehow, so he didn't get up from where he was for most of the afternoon. He was wearing a farwa and drinking tea. Isn't that weird how you can remember someone in detail from one lovely day a long time ago? I'm so surprised that I remembered him because I usually have a terrible memory of faces.

I'm glad it is almost Ramadan. I love Ramadan in Kuwait. Plus, I have 2 friends who supply me with different foods I love from home; tashreeb and gaymat. I always call them specifically to get it. I don't understand why a lot of American people I know hate Ramadan. I always totally enjoy myself. It is kind of that spirit of community and sharing in a holiday that you have on Christmas - only it lasts for a whole month. I haven't fasted for a looooooooooooong time, but to me - either way, it is no big deal that you can't go out and have something in public.

Prison Bitches

I'm back in Kuwait. That doesn't make ME a prison bitch, however; although technically, I can see how you might interpret it that way.... Please read on...

My two best friends are travelling (Romanian in Romania and Slapperella in Ethiopia) and my other friend who usually calls me every day (a Kuwaiti guy who shall remain nameless) is in the central prison for a while. Bunny isn't even around because he has been so busy lately and now he has the flu. What is a girl to do? I'm all alone (sniffle, whimper) and feeling very unloved.

What I need is a big, strong man to take care of me (oh, get over it Desert Girl -- we have heard THAT line before!)

Jailbird has been calling me to ask ME if I need anything. I feel so bad for him and I'm constantly giving him jail-advice like "Don't drop the soap." "Sleep with your back to the wall." He'll be out soon. Something minor. I don't know many people who've ever been to jail except for my cousin who is a prison nurse (I think she likes all the captive men)....

Anyhow, since I've been back, I've decided that much of the stuff I have acquired in my life here is useless trash that should be thrown out. So, I started with the kitchen, then the storage rooms, then the guest bedroom.... I'm giving shit away like I would get a tax refund for it or something. I don't know what's wrong with me. I've just decided its all crap and it has to go. So, I'm sorry, The Man, but your sheesha went to Khalid (my hariss) who told me to thank you very much (I thought about calling you and asking you if you wanted it, but then I'm sure that would have been misinterpreted too). Lots of flower vases went out.. stuff that I have been holding onto for no apparent reason - all gone.

Yes, Desert Dawg is safe. :)

I met a guy tonight because I was staring at his GORGEOUS friend and he thought I was staring at him. The gorgeous friend never once turned around to look at me, but this guy did. I gotta say, I'm not easily impressed, but I admired him for being direct: he walked right over to our table and introduced himself. It was very crowded at the restaurant and I didn't want to get his number in front of everyone and Al-Rai photographers (the paparazzi), so I asked him to meet us outside as we were just getting the bill. It took a while (and also Slaps was flirting with some guy and wanted to walk out together) and by the time we got out, he was gone. It shouldn't have upset me as much as it did, but it did. Why? Because I rarely find men here who will go after what they want and don't give a shit what other people think. He was also around my age, articulate and sounded nice. His name was Mansour and that's all I know except that he was sitting at table 22 at Burj Hamam between 9 and 11 pm. (... as Rose says to Jack in "The Titanic," "Come baaaaaaaaaaaaaack...."). I shoulda taken his number. I shoulda invited him to sit with us for a while. I shoulda, coulda, woulda.... but alas, apparently, it was not my destiny. As Slaps said, "If it is meant to be, he'll be waiting for you outside the door." And he wasn't.

Waaagif....

Something in the Wind

Something is really different. I don’t know what it is exactly, but it is just very different. Things just don’t feel the same recently and it is almost as if something is coming, but I can’t tell what it is.

I had a dream the other night and I think it must have been heaven. I was in a garden with pools of water and streams. It was at night and there were those little fairy lights everywhere (which I love), hanging over walkways and in the trees. The pools were more like ponds with grass on the banks and streams between them. I was with Shamlan in one of the pools of water. He was hugging me and I could feel how warm he was and I could smell his skin. I told him that I had loved him since I was 15 years old. He hugged me for a long time and he told me that he has loved me for as long. Most of the dreams I have of him, he is turning and going. In this dream, I knew we would stay together always and it was okay. Then, I got out of the pool I was in with him and I went to find my father and (step-mother), Elly (also deceased). They were in a building (kind of like gazebos with wood walkways in between). They were sitting with friends and there was music playing and people were laughing. Dad was wearing a bright yellow shirt. I couldn't see any faces, but I knew they were happy. The feeling I had from it was intense love. It was the best dream ever.

I have been reading a book about George Anderson who is a medium – mostly helping people with recovery from grief. I found the book in a small used book store in Reston where I always find unique inspiration. George delivers messages from peoples’ loved ones who have died. It was a very interesting look at life-after-death and how forgiveness and love play big roles (ok, not that hate would have any place there). It also reminded me to pay attention to signs and how you may overlook messages that come through.

My dad gave me a definite sign while I was there. I said, “I love you, Daddy” just as I was passing by his house. It was sunset and the sun was shining through the pink clouds in rays. A very old song came on the radio by Peggy Lee that reminds me of him, “The Way You Look Tonight.”

"Heaven's Door"

If I should go before you,

If life on earth were through;

I'll stop just inside Heaven's door,

And there I'll wait for you.

You've but to look 'cross star filled skies,

Past the moon and then beyond;

To know my leaving could never break,

This heart's undying bond.

And if you should go before me,

If your journey on earth were through;

You know I will be close behind,

I'll never be far from you.

Across the span of time and space,

This love will reach this far;

For you'll always carry a bit of my heart,

No matter where you are.

We've no way of knowing who will remain,

Or who will go on before;

But if I should go first, you'll find love there,

I'll be waiting just inside Heaven's door.

I Saw A Bear

I went to Skyline Drive in Shenandoah in Virginia with my mother. It is about 100 miles of road around and on the top of a mountain range that is all inside of a national park. It is only a 2 hour drive from DC.

I saw a lot of deer - which isn't that remarkable really since we feed the deer outside our house every night at 5:00. This year, there is a very large family of deer including a 4-point buck and 2 spotted babies. Anyhoo (back to our story), I really wanted to see a bear while we were there in the mountains and today I did: He was a pretty big black bear with the cutest ears. He walked/lumbered across the road right in front of the car. I stopped (stupid tourists) and he looked at me from the side of the road, seated in a bunch of tall ferns and weeds. He was pudgy in a kind of Winney The Pooh way, with fluffy ears. It was so cool. It is one thing to see them in a zoo, but when you are up close and they are wild and not pacing back and forth in some enclosure - it is really something else.

I'm going to my sisters beach house in Ocean City tomorrow for more crabs and just hanging out. There is usually way too much wine consumption and lots of laughs, even though I hate the drive over there through traffic.

The Romanian is in Romania for a while with capilu and her sister visiting her mom. Poor Slapperella is alone to fend for herself and I am worried about her mental health. I'll be back soon! Hang in there, girl! We'll go to Dubai and everything will be ok in the world again. I promise! Next year, you can come here with me and we can drink French martinis and look at bears and wild horses together. It will be okay!

What do you do when you don't have an ass?

Not that I have that problem. Quite the contrary, in fact. I have "junk in the trunk". My ass can even be used as a floatation device. Don't ask me how I know this, but if you do, it took place with the help of a bottle of Grey Goose and a lot of salt in the water.

The picture does not pertain to my problem, but to my no-assed friend. I’m here in the States and I just happened to run across this device that she has been searching for for the past several years - taking us through many trips to souq shaabi and various questionable "undergarment" shops throughout Kuwait. Our quest was ended when I found the “enhancing panty” by Rago in one of my mothers 4 million catalogs. (I swear, every catalog in America eventually ends up in my mothers mailbox.) This item was found in - of all weird places - a catalog for footwear (go figure!) Today, because I love my friend, I purchased the Rago Enhancing Panty. I hope that this will end her constant carrying on about how she doesn’t have an ass.

If anyone knows my circle of friends – you’ll immediately know who I’m talking about.

I’m still in Virginia. We spent a week at Corolla Light in the Outer Banks of North Carolina. I think we’re going to rent the house again next year. It is huBUNGous. 3 levels and can sleep about 20 people. I've been to a lot of nice hotels before, and this house was more luxerious in many ways. The bedroom suites were enormous and the house had the most sophisticated electronics system that I've ever seen. We couldn't figure a lot of it out, unfortunately.

They have wild mustangs on the island and after a brief drive down the beach in my sisters Range Rover (which was overtaken by another no-doubt beer drinking woman in a Ford 4x), we spotted 2 different “families” of mustangs. They go down to the beach to stand together and watch the sunset. We watched as a bunch of people on a sanddune were looking at one mustang family. The stallion was trying to lead the mares and young horses out onto the beach and one Jersey-looking guy wouldn’t move; so the horse proceeded to bite dude on the ass (there seems to be an ass theme going on here, doesn’t there????). It was hilarious. We had been drinking a lot (my sober brother-in-law was driving) and this sent my sisters and I into a giggle fit.

The outer banks are amazing. The waves were really big and the beach was so clean. I love it there. I've also never been anywhere where they had so many dragon flies; and they were so big! They were like bats fling around or something. We sat on the top floor of the house every night at sunset to watch the sun go down, talk and have drinks. There was a big lighthouse behind us and the scenery couldn't have been nicer. It is the same area where the movie, "Message in a Bottle" was based.

I’m taking my mother to the mountains at Skyline Drive in Shenandoah this coming week. I haven’t been there for years. I used to go there with a Saudi guy I was dating (but that’s another story). My mom has pneumonia. She’s doing better. I hope she’ll feel ok by the time for the trip. We are going to try to go to my sister’s beach house in Ocean City after that.

I’m loving the new Mercedes. I don’t know how I am going to go back to Kuwait and drive anything else. I’ve driven a lot of fast cars, but this one blows everything else away by far. I got over my initial nervousness about driving it right after I blew a guy away in a Porche.

Other than that, I am drinking French martinis, red wine, and tequilla sunrises - and the occasional mojito (yummm). I'm shopping every day and talking to my old friends and loving the greenery.

Life is good.

Tawhore

He's been BOUGHT! Sold to the highest bidder for the price of a Tahoe.

Ode To Stupid People Everywhere

Want to hear something stupid? (Of course, Desert Girl! Why else would we read your blog?) Obey kaybee…

This weekend I’m out with the Posse (pronounce that any way you so desire). I’m walking around and a yummy tall guy was smiling at me. I met him in the school supply section and he gave me his name and number and then said, “Who is your friend?” I’m like, “My friend? What’s up with you?” (thinking dirty threesome thoughts bien sur). He said, “No, I want you to give her my number.” I’m like, “Are you stupid? Why don’t you go give her your own number? What am I – a mediator?” (Don’t even SAY that other word….!)

People never cease to amaze me. And Purgy – DAMN STRAIGHT my expectations are high. If you aim high, you achieve high. If you aim low, you generally only get low – loooooow below the belt…. (come to think of it…. that wouldn't be so terrible, right?)

This weekend was relatively a snooze fest, except for a phone call from a guy who I didn’t mention here (maybe I did?) who is traveling and I won’t get to see until September. I totally wasn’t expecting his call and I was having dinner with a business ASSociate and when I answered the call, he said, “BAYBEE! How ARE you?” I said, ‘Ssscuse me? Who is this?’ (because, alas, it could have been any number of mens… I was so glad that it was HIM). (Says me – giggling like a 5th grader). Me likes.

My dear friend, The Romanian, called a guy for the first time last night. I asked how the conversation went and she said, “He didn’t even ask me what my name was. He just asked me if I lived alone. So….. CLICK.” I love her attitude. What a dumbass. Obviously, he just wanted a booty call.

When mens ask me if I live alone, I always say, ‘I live with security.’ What exactly does that MEAN? Well, it could be my own private security detail; it could be a big aggressive attack dog; it could be a Smith & Weson; it could be a male relative… This list goes on. I don’t go into details. Why, pray tell, Desert Girl, do you answer in this strange manner? Weeeeeeeelll, it’s like this: If I tell anyone that I live alone, the next thing out of their pathetically stupid ignorant mouths is, “Uh, I’ll bring some food and a bottle and be right over.” NO DUMBASS YOU WON’T. What time is yo mama cooking lunch for me?

Oh, I had a conversation with another dumbass (there are so many)…. He is a friend-of-a-friend who likes me and who I don’t know well at all. He was calling to (I think) ask me out, but failed miserably. He said, “I live in the most expensive area of Southern Kuwait, Hadiya. I can’t go outside with women, I am a very important man. I am a lieutenant.” (oh please – WTF – not even a major!!!). I told him that I am secretly married to a very important man, who lives in Abdullah Al-Salem, I too am very important (I’m a mudeeeeera), and I can’t go outside with him either.” Had I been standing next to LoserBoy, I would have reached out and smacked him upside his irrationally small head.

Ooooooo saaaaah. Try to remain calm. 4 more days until the serenity of alcohol, greenness, and the love of my family…..

And speaking of loff….. I’m taking The Romanian on a honeymoon to Phuket. Ph-uckit. That’s right. When I didn’t get the engagement ring I wanted, did I sit and complain (yes, a little)? I bought it myself (and then felt guilty for spending so much). When that person went on my honeymoon without me, did I complain (Hell YES I DID)? I’m taking my friend. Of course, it won’t be AS romantic, but whatever. Thankfully, I don’t like wedding gowns (I don’t – seriously – I look terrible in white and the whole virginal thing just doesn’t work for me), so I don’t have to spend the money on that. I could probably do a wedding cake, however….

Its ok because I went on a honeymoon to Malaysia years ago (2002?) and before that, to Maui in Hawaii. Malaysia was because a guy friend and I won a trip on Valentine’s day at the Balls of Kuwait (towers) and we told everybody we were on our honeymoon to receive upgrades, cake, and flowers. In Maui, it wasn’t actually a honeymoon because dude was taking me there to ASK me to marry him. I’m so glad I went because I didn’t marry him and therefore I never would have had the way cool honeymoon I actually ended up with (helicopter rides, sail boating, snorkeling, room on the sea… etc.)

My life IS weird, isn’t it???

One Year

I can’t believe that it has been a year since we were just hanging out at home; saying up late and talking until I fell asleep – always before you. You would stay up and play stupid computer games or watch the news all night. Sometimes during the day, I would call you to talk more about ordinary things that were happening; or about what you were doing or where your work was taking you and who you might be tracking down. Somehow we were so well connected that I could see in my minds-eye what would happen and who the person was and how you would try to reason with them or try to comfort their families. You are in many ways a good man. We were so close. We were making plans for the future – or at least I was, as it seems (Ali and retiring to a horse farm in Colorado). I can’t believe that it has been a year since you waved goodbye to me at the airport; how I looked forward to returning and finding us together in a whole new life – one that you never intended to pursue. I was never made aware of the hidden agenda; of what was really in your mind; and how you knew I wasn’t going to be part of your life in the next 60 days that followed. I can’t believe that things changed so drastically. I can’t believe there were so many betrayals that came from so many directions.

I remember the first time you disappeared. It was raining during the 4 days and I thought my heart would stop. It was the beginning of a series of disappearances for no apparent reasons but perhaps for those of weakness and cowardice. When things become difficult or uncomfortable, it is easy for people of looser moral fiber to walk away without conscience or concern. The strong always stand their ground. I can’t believe that you never thought it would come back to affect you in some way. Regret has a way of washing over you in waves. During those first 4 days, I wrote this for you and then I took you back on day 5:

Someone broke my heart today.
I didn’t see it coming.
I was doing fine alone.
Then he came in and said all the right things
and looked at me in all the right ways;
letting me believe that we weren’t playing The Game.
It was just us.
For a short time, my feet weren’t touching the ground.
I forgot how that felt.
He was there from nowhere and it felt like he knew me.
And then he went away as fast as he came
because maybe I didn’t say the right things.
Maybe I didn’t do the right thing.
Maybe he saw me as I really am.
I forgot about The Game.
I let my armor down for a little while and he got through.
It is so much easier when you love a ghost and no one can hurt you.
I’m going to put my armor back on and
no one is going to get through no matter what.
I won’t let them.

The brief times when I’ve felt neglected or uncared for, I look around at the people who are now, and always have been here and really do love me; and I know how lucky I am to have people of quality and higher morals in my life. I make a call and someone always picks up the phone just to make sure I’m ok.

The opposite of love isn’t hate; it is indifference. Regrettably, I am not indifferent; I still grieve for the type of man that I thought you were. After a year, I still find it hard to believe that I couldn’t see who you really are.

I can’t believe it has been a year already. It feels like the good parts were only a dream.

Mack Daddies

I heard such a stupid story over the weekend that I just had to get online and share it with the world.

My friend was dating a guy for about a year and a half. They kept talking about getting married on and off, but they kept breaking up and getting back together again. Long-story-short, dude decided to marry a “traditional girl” (aka virgin) so she would think he was a God and worship him; and at the same time get along with his mommy (so cute). Last night, she calls me and tells me that dude had called her after 4 years-and-a-baby-later to get her advice. What it all boiled down to was that his wife is no good in bed (routine and not open to new things; BJs out of the question) and he was asking her what he should do. Believe dat shit?

Why are people stupid? Why don’t people think in terms of the long-run?

If sex is important to someone, don’t you think you should at least have a conversation about it with the person you are going to marry prior to making a life-long commitment? Shit, I have the conversation before I even meet the guy. And another thing, call me newfangled, but I’m sorry, I would never buy before I tried. No way. It’s like buying a car: Even if its new, you just don’t know what’s under the hood until you take it out on the road and really gun the engine.

The Romanian and I had yet another Adventure in Dating this weekend. Zzzzzzzzz snore. We went on a double-blind date with two characters ("Mo" and "Curly" apparently). All they did was talk about how terrible Bedoins and Sunnis are the entire night. Romanian and I are of the same mindset: we are all one tribe with one God. Why can’t people stop their petty prejudices and understand that? Furthermore, nobody wants to HEAR about how much some people hate others; it’s just bad.

I did glean some interesting insight into the psyche of a polygamist, however. I love to hear people’s perceptions on stuff like this. One of the guys is married to 3 women (yes, at the same time; and no, we didn’t know that). I guess he’s the Mack Daddy or something. …It must be South because North really wasn’t that happenin. Anyhoooo, he has 2 Kuwaiti wives and one Lebanese. They all live him the same house with a collective 6 children. They meet collectively every day for lunch. 2 of the women work (salon owner and lawyer), one of them doesn’t. Fascinating, isn’t it? Mack Daddy has his own floor in the house and when he wants one of the womens, he calls them up to his floor. All of this information – AND he wants to go out with The Romanian. I giggle. Whatever Viagra he’s taking wouldn’t be enough… I bet none of his other wives would install a brass pole in the bedroom....

Sidebar: WHY DON'T THEY TEACH POLE DANCING IN KUWAIT YET? It is BIG business in the fitness clubs in the US. They could make a fortune here on not only the training classes, but in sales of poles. WTF. Belly dancin' hell - I want to see a bigbooty Kuwaiti girl upside down on a pole! LOL (The particular set in this picture is US$79.99, but not strong enough to support the weight of someone hanging upside-down - I checked.) Suburban housewives all over America are doing this now. Maybe dude's wife in Paragraph 2 above should check it out. Nothin wrong with a little private pole dancing for your husband. Nothing sacreligious nosireeebob.

This was an ironic dating scenario, as it came on the same day that I received this e-mail:

Four Wives

Once upon a time there was a rich (he'd have to be) King who had four wives. He loved the 4th wife the most (proving my point, once again - that all is not equal in polygamy) and adorned her with rich robes and treated her to the finest of delicacies. He gave her nothing but the best. He also loved the 3rd wife very much and was always showing her off to neighboring kingdoms. However, he feared that one day she would leave him for another.He also loved his 2nd wife. She was his confidant and was always kind, considerate and patient with him. Whenever the King faced a problem, he could confide in her, and she would help him get through the difficult times.The King's 1st wife was a very loyal partner and had made great contributions in maintaining his wealth and kingdom. However, he did not love the first wife. Although she loved him deeply, he hardly took notice of her!

One day, the King fell ill and he knew his time was short. He thought of his luxurious life and wondered, I now have four wives with me, but when I die, I'll be all alone."Thus, he asked the 4th wife, "I have loved you the most, endowed you with the finest clothing and showered great care over you. Now that I'm dying, will you follow me and keep me company?""No way!", replied the 4th wife, and she walked away without another word. Her answer cut like a sharp knife right into his heart.The sad King then asked the 3rd wife, "I have loved you all my life. Now that I'm dying, will you follow me and keep me company?""No!", replied the 3rd wife. "Life is too good! When you die, I'm going to remarry!" His heart sank and turned cold.He then asked the 2nd wife, "I have always turned to you for help and you've always been there for me. When I die, will you follow me and keep me company?""I'm sorry, I can't help you out this time!", replied the 2nd wife. "At the very most, I can only walk with you to your grave." Her answer struck him like a bolt of lightning, and the King was devastated.Then a voice called out: "I'll go with you. I'll follow you no matter where you go." The King looked up, and there was his first wife. She was very skinny as she suffered from malnutrition and neglect. Greatly grieved, the King said, "I should have taken much better care of you when I had the chance!"

In truth, we all have the 4 wives in our lives:Our 4th wife is our body. No matter how much time and effort we lavish in making it look good, it will leave us when we die. Our 3rd wife is our possessions, status and wealth. When we die, it will all go to others. Our 2nd wife is our family and friends. No matter how much they have been there for us, the furthest they can stay by us is up to the grave. And our 1st wife is our Soul - often neglected in pursuit of wealth, power and pleasures of the world. However, our Soul is the only thing that will follow us wherever we go.

Somebody sent me this

I'm your man
And I hope I always will be
Cause to me you are the world
The sun sets in your eyes
And without you my moon won't shine
The air would be thin
The stars would never shine again
My life would be a waste
Without your sweet embrace
My chest would just be an empty space
If I ever had to live without you
Cause to me no other will do
You’re the reason I see clearly now

Desert Dawg

My goal in life is to be as good a person

as my dog already thinks I am.

She is even with me in my dreams. Believe dat.

Snapdragons

We used to have snapdragons in our garden when I was growing up in McLean. My dad would snap them on my our little fingers (my sister and I). That has ab-so-lutely nothing to do with anything….FREE ASSOCIATION….

I only have 2 more weeks and then I’m in Virginia. I can’t wait to see my family. My nephew grows so much between my visits that I hardly recognize him. He’s amazing. I love that kid/man so much. He loves all the manly things and he also likes the arts. He's just very interesting and he’s like my son without responsibility. Gotta love it.

I think I’m going to be scared to drive the new Mercedes around, but I guess I’ll get used to it. I’m so mean to cars these days since I’ve grown accustomed to driving either leased or rented vehicles. I hope I can go back to being “normal”. Slaps says, “Oh no! You can’t have a Mercedes… not the way you drive! What about speeeeeed bumps?” I’ll adjust. Really I will. Anyhoo, I want to take my mother to the mountains for a few days and I need something comfortable for my butt (refer to following paragraph).

I had a stomach flu this week and I have been staying home a lot. It made me very tired. It felt like little men jumping on my intestines. Nothing says, “I love you” more than a stool sample (so I told the lab tech). I guess she’d heard that one before (or something very similar). Go figure. I thought that they might find Alien in there or something, but nothing so dramatic (only gold flakes and rose petals): Just a little upset tummy and fever. Yes, I am accepting flowers – thanks for thinking of me.

My 27 year old is back. He is such a nice guy. I like him. He’s my boy toy. You’re only as old as the man that you feel and all that. Tee hee. I call him “Chivas”. I promised to call him more often. I am so bad about that. I should call the people I like more often. Bad, bad, bad Desert Girl!

I managed to meet some mens this week. Don’t ask me how; it has all been kind of a haze. I like the ones who follow me until I relent; the thrill of the chase – yada yada. I met 5 mens; and would only venture to go out with one of them. He’s very sweet and kind of shy (and has OMG sexy shoulders. I LOVE sexy shoulders.) and unfortunately, left immediately to the Emirates for 20 days. By the time he gets back, I’ll be gone, and alas - so probably will be the magic. The other 4 are kindof metsometz: One is too pushy; one is too crazy (although I might check him out more thoroughly because he actually has a good job/ambition); one has a voice that is way too high; and one hardly speaks at all. I know, Purgy, my expectations are way too high. So phuckin what? I can be choosy, right?

The most fun I’ve had this week with a man was my dream about the uber-rich guy who was in love with me and we were walking through our uber-beautiful new home/mansion, complete with garden and fountain and French doors painted in silver and curtains in a dusty rose chiffon. The mansion faced the mansion of friends of ours across the street…. WAKE UP!!!!!

And then I had a dream about The Man and how he was living on the 5th floor of a 7 storey building facing the sea. SHE was cooking lunch in the kitchen and had lost a lot of weight and the kids were happy to see me. The Man always looks at me and smiles in my dreams and then walks away. WTF??

Anyhoo, lunch smelled good! I love that I can smell things in my dreams. Sometimes I can feel things too – like cold and wet. Sometimes I have traveling dreams where I go to places I’ve never been before and I know where everything is. I always wake up after traveling dreams very tired. Are other people like me? 7 is supposed to be good in dreams. So are new homes and the sea and silver.

I went to a fun birthday gathering over the weekend. I thought it was for my friends’ birthday – it turned out to be her husbands. Oops. I’m an idiot. Their birthdays are only 10 days apart. Anyhooo, I got her/them gifts that could potentially cross-over to both genders; coffee mugs and bath items (only they were wrapped in pink). Yeah, that’ll work. Git er done. Think a big guy working for the Ministry of Interior likes pink? Fer sure. Well, there were a lot of intellectual types there and I was hoping that The Romanian wouldn’t be bored with the group. As it was, everyone had a great time. While Romanian was out of the room having a cigarette on the balcony (for a very long time, come to think of it, with my friends’ husband….hmmmm), during a lull in the conversation, I told the group that The Romanian is a former porn star. Discussion continued after some laughter. About an hour later, one of the most intelligent in the group walked over to The Romanian and flatly said, “So, you are a porn star?” I thought I would die giggling. She said that she felt like she was a little kid caught by the principal. He hee. Of course she really isn’t (she’s not). Noooo, no pole dancing in her history. No lap dances. No videos on Romanian latenight TV… Not her.

Slapperella just called me from Indonesia to tell me that she had discovered that I’d changed her bluetooth name to “Bigbutt4u”. It has only been 3 weeks! Why do people let me borrow their phones?

My Egyptian friend, Mona (I SO miss her reading my coffee cups in the morning!), explained that the reason why the birds are flying into my apartment and signing on my windowsill early in the morning is because they want something from me. Ok, so I got some Trill birdfood and a birdbath and started feeding them. My favorite bird, an adolescent mina bird, comes and sings songs for me right around wake-up time (ok, “hit the snooze button and turn over” time) on my bedroom windowsill. At least the mina works for food. The damn fat pigeons are pissing me off. They scare off the smaller birds; the mina, the doves, the sparrows; and they actually fight each other like cock fights to get at the food. They are all the size of small roaster chickens and don’t need the food. I can tell. Bastard rat-birds from Hell. Now, if I don’t feed the damn things; they all sit out there making a racket and tapping on my windows until I do feed them. (“Hey! Hey! Yo! Wake up and get us some damn Trill!”) I can’t win. Sometimes it is hard being Doctora Doolittle.

For all of you who read my comments on the last post, sorry for the tirade. I don’t believe I have ever received such a comment from anyone before in the history of this blog, so I went a little overboard. Que cera cera. Johnny crack corn … and all that.

And now… I shall continue on my PATH OF FUN (enlightenment/discovery/adventure).