Several weeks and 2,000 bottles of red wine later….

I didn’t know there could be so many red grapes in Chile. I think I drank all of them. One or two may have escaped, but I don’t think so. Cabernet doesn’t stand a chance when I’m in the room. But, I drink responsibly, so therefore I was never falling-down drunk; just walking with a happy buzz. Because da girlfriendz weren’t around, I didn’t drink tequila or French martinis.

I have some catching up to do, don’t I? Otay Buckwheat….

We had a nice Christmas and New Years. I don’t know why I’m so retarded that I can’t get around to visiting with or calling my friends while I’m there. It is like I get into some kind of weird trance. There is something about the house… Anyhooo…. We went to the resort, but there was no snow. The weather there is pretty much the way it is here; same temp and sunny. I had a new spa treatment; a mud wrap. People, this is one time when you can find out if you are claustrophobic or not; apparently, I am. I just reached the “get me the phuck out of this” break-point when it was time to wash it all off – thankfully. I like trying new things, but I don’t think I’ll do that one again. I’ll stick to the hot stone massages.

I went to a party for New Years Eve and had a good time. I saw a few drunk Moroccan guys who made me giggle. I laughed a lot, but ended up nostalgically wishing that The Man would have lasted long enough to go with me to those kinds of events on holidays because I think he would have liked it. Anyhoo, ancient history now, but somehow I can’t stop myself from thinking about him on holidays and when I travel. Truly pathetic and Bridget-Jones-esque. My sister asked me how he was and seemed really surprised that we haven’t spoken since March.

I miss my mommy. I don’t know if I can move back to the States or not again, but I sure wish I was closer to her. I’m so torn.

United was much nicer to me on this trip than the last. It was a nice experience and I have to send their rep a thank you note. Good save, United.

One of my bags was opened by the Transportation Safety Authority (TSA). It didn’t occur to me that the computer component and the box of several jars of honey (for one of my ungrateful colleagues) might set off some bells. Had I also had an alarm clock and any form of cables or wires in there, I’m pretty sure my ass would have been carted off to jail. The TSA is pretty cool, though because I couldn’t even tell that they had been in my suitcase. Sorry for the underwear, guys, but you chose to go in…. (so to speak…)

Segue

Bunny didn’t receive nationality while I was away, but one of my other friends did and I’m very happy for him. I hope that Bunny will get it on the next go-around. He deserves it. He has been working so hard. So, if you wouldn’t mind please saying a prayer for him, I would really appreciate it. I am a believer in the power of group prayer.

I’ve had Parade of Workers through my apartment now for the past 2 months. I’m almost at the end of it though and maybe I can get some rest. Everything that could possibly have gone wrong electrically did. I finally found a few guys who know what they are doing. One of them even wore gloves and turned off the main switch before working on stuff. Imagine that! In Kuwait! My hariss (who I love dearly) once grabbed a live wire and the electricity shot out his eyes. He is jet black, so the skin around his eyes was white and he looked like a raccoon turned inside-out. I laugh about it with him now. Sometimes he oversees the workers in my apartment doing the electricity and then I sneak up behind him and make a “bbbbzzzzzzzz” sound like electric noise and he jumps. Funny as shit.

I went to Starfucks at Bidaa yesterday with Slaperella and there were a bunch of motorcycle guys there; very funny group. I saw one bike that I thought belonged to The Don, but it turned out to be somebody named Fawaz who was a really nice (but very shy) guy. He asked me if I wanted to go for a ride and my mind immediately went dirty. (I can’t HELP it – there is something wrong with me. It is a birth defect, ok? Where is the pity?)

Oh, on misconstrued dirtyness…. I have a question for youse guys (poll question): If a man asks you to go into the bedroom for a massage, does it mean he really wants to give you a massage or does it mean that he wants to have sex? I think the latter, right? What do you think? No, the guy in question is not a certified masseuse either.