Stealthy thoughts

What IS it about meeting that one person who just re-arranges your world in a matter of weeks?  Don't get me wrong, I don't have any illusions that it will work out and we'll ride off into the sunset together.  There's baggage.  It isn't the entire Louis Vuitton collection that The Man had, but baggage nonetheless. 

I can't stop thinking about him.  It's wrong because I'm with other people doing other things. I just can't....

This weekend was floopy.  I spent part of it in New Jack City for an unexpected departure from my norm; an adventure with a Southern Bedu.  (I usually camp in the North.)  Friday friends dropped by as usual.  Z, you are totally crazy boy and you are my new best friend. I frickin ADORE YOU, playah!!!  I was supposed to go to Media Girl's party and meant to, but people just stopped by and one thing led to another.  I'm sorry girl.  I know I promised to wear a burkini to the pool, but I couldn't find one either...

Yesterday.... yesterday.... more action packed into a 24 hour period than I can remember for a long time.

Southern Bedu left at noon (just sayin that I'm not sayin).  He is SOOOOOOOOO fiiiiiiiiine.  Tall, sexysouka, nice.   I had to be at my favorite seafood restaurant by 2 with Butterfly, Spanx et their menfolk.  I was still shakey from the shinannigans of the night/early morning before, so I walked in with my sunglasses on, not really able to move my head left or right without headache tremors.

[Side note:  Spanx told me about a party she and her husband went to the night before.  They said it was faaaaaaaabulous and wished I had been there.  They had a great time.  Said they didn't know the couple that well, but got the invite and went and had tons of fun.  Guess what... turned out to be the Media Girl's party.  Dayam!  I missed out.]

Corvette Girl is there, 2 tables down,  with her mom and dad.  I say hi.  I have missed her.  She's busy between here and Qatar lately.

So, I sit down, get on the phone with Southern Bedu again ( I wish he had went with us) ... and... what's THAT?  Yo, Spanx... is that who I think it is.  "No.  That's not him..."  Yuh, I think it is (but he's wearing dark sunglasses and I can't tell - looks like a well-worn-version of his previous self).  Bang a quick trip to the bathroom to do the check-out-walk-by on the way back.  Oh snap...

Noooooooo.  He.  Di'INT.....

That was OUR restaurant.  For years we went there together.  The manager, the hostess, the wait staff, the valet parkers - all know us as a couple.  Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

Etiquette = you don't bring another woman to you and your woman's favorite/special place.  It is bad form.  WHY would he do that? Want to come look for me/at me?  Ok, I am indifferent, but please do not provoke me.

The Man sat there with dark glasses on the en-tire time.  I stopped at the table to say hi to a luke-warm reception.  Glanced over my shoulder and said hi to him.  Walked back to the table to see a bunch of open jaws.  SMSed Corvette Girl at the other table.  "No he didn't!!!  Where?  Which one?...." 

Later that night, I SMS The Man (provoked, I say) to ask him how he could be so disrespectful to BOTH of us by going there.  He says it was, "by mistake" "at the last minute".  Wallah?  You drove from Abdullah Mubarak to my neighborhood, to take her to our restaurant while on your way to Fahaheel?  Wallah?  Like, were all the other restaurants in Kuwait closed?  No way in the world she could have known or would have agreed to let both of us be gossipped about like that. I wouldn't have done that to her and I know she's not like that, so what is your lame excuse?   You got some cojones boy and my guess is that somehow, someone is going to chop them into tiny bits and serve them to the stray dogs in your area. 

Enough said.  Bad energy be gone.  Stay out of my world.  Shoo shoo shoo.

I had to go to a function last night. Still on a pissed-off-adrenaline-high, The Romanian and I go.  I invited a few very nice people I know.  We had a great time.  I've been re-elected.  All is good.  By the way, I really like the Safir Hotel in Fintas.  Very nice place.  So, we are walking out and walk right into my friend, Jamal's brother.   A bunch of our friends are in the coffee shop... cool.  Small world/Kuwait.

.... and then... and then... and then.... the special ring tone sounds....  ahhhhhhhhhh.... Stealthy.  I actually pull the car over to talk to him.  I can't think about him and drive.  He said he misses me.  I miss him.  He comes over... 

Damn I feel good today!

Early Valentine's Day

I wasn't going to post about this, but what the hey.  The Man has been so nice to me lately and really, this is my world here in blogsphere, so I should be able to write what I want.

Valentine's Day came a little early for us this year.  It was a total surprise.  He brought me a big bunch of flowers from our favorite florist - a guy that The Man has been buying me flowers from since I met him 5+ years ago.  The florist is a really sweet older guy and he always knows what I like.  I started sending my friends flowers from the same place and every time I go there, Mr. Mohammed gives me a single rose.

I love rings and I got such a nice surprise:  It has little hearts on it and is SO pretty.  I couldn't have asked for a nicer gift.  You always know me, don't you?  I don't know where you got it, but it is amazing and special and I love it.  He shouldn't have spent so much money.

We usually go to "our" restaurant on Fridays, but we decided to skip it this time.  We go there so often that if we miss a day, they ask about us the next time.  I feel like Norm on Cheers. :)

What an amazing day.  Thanks, The Man.  You really went all out.

When your push-up bra goes too far

Catchy title, eh?

Anything with "bra" in the title is hereby and forthwith dedicated to Purgatory. Ask and ye shall receive.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me today, but I woke up tired and achy. I had a dream that I was driving through farmland and looked over into a field and a brown calf smiled at me (what does it all mean?). Go figure.

Just looked it up on http://www.dreammoods.com/ dream interpreter and it says: “To see a calf in your dream, symbolizes immaturity and inexperience. You need to develop certain qualities.” Uh, funk dat; I like my immaturity. But then wait, it goes on to say, “Brown denotes worldliness, practicality, domestic and physical comfort, conservatism, and a materialistic character. Brown also represents the ground and earth.” WTF. Now I’m confused. Anyhoooooooo….

I woke up late (as usual). Who the HELL invented the snooze? It was a man, fer sure. It was a man who could wear a baseball cap, jeans, and t-shirt to work who could get away with not shaving nor any sort of hygiene routine. Obviously, any woman would know better.

My routine is long and minutely accurate – like a military mission. Details are imperative. For example, I use 2 different types of eyeliner. The first, on the upper lids sets rather quickly (love you, Lancome black liquid eyeliner!). The next, on the lower lids, I use a water-proof, mortar-proof, tear-resistant eyeliner (you bastards at Cle de Peau had to stop making it, didn’t you? Was it too good? Was it that one unit would last 6 months?) that I have to use the hair dryer to get to fasten to my skin. I’m telling ya – you can’t get rid of it with normal make up remover. It is resistant to sand-blasting and 12 hour work days (I’ve found it to be the ONLY long-wearing eyeliner that will stay on my eyes in summer in Kuwait). Anyhow, that is just the eyelids. Then, there is eye shadow, mascara, foundation, powder… I’m really just writing this for the benefit of men who have no clue. Girls, you know what I’m talking about, right?

The Snooze Idiot didn’t understand this which is why I hate him. I hit my snooze again and again until it gets “Oh My God, they are definitely going to fire me this time” time.

This morning was the first time in 3 years that I didn’t wash my hair before going to work. 3 years ago, I had a REALLY good/fun reason…. Today was just nonsensical.

So, I had no idea what to wear (as usual) and had to go looking for a neutral bra to go with the white shirt I decided on. The one I grabbed was, as it turned out, quite the wrong choice. I know, you guys are thinking, “Why wear one?” right? Idiots. Shut up.

Long-story-short, the girls are up around my chin today and co-workers are giggling. Such is my life. I was planning to go downstairs and have kabab today, but I don’t think that would be a wise decision.

I have an update on my life. I have been debating about if I should even write about this, but I think I will because it has had a happy ending.

I wrote a few posts about the Psychic Bedu and his prediction for June of 2008. He said that The Man would come back around in that month. For the past 18 months, I’ve been doing my normal thang of going to tarot card, coffee cup, shell tossing readers (with my girlfriends, of course) who have told me pretty much the same thing. Do I believe in that kind of thing? Well, let me say that I do believe in the Law of Averages, so if all these people are telling me pretty much of the same thing, then yes – I tend to believe it. One lady actually told me The Man’s first name and his profession. One tarot card reading told me that The Man would come back into my life, but our relationship would be redefined as something completely different, yet happy.

The Man is back in my life (June 2008 - exactly when PB said) and I am glad. We have decided to be friends.

Have you heard that song, “Heart of the Matter”? Lyrics here. The original version is by Don Henley/Eagles, but I really love the new one by India Arie (Sex and the City soundtrack). It is about forgiveness. For weeks, the lyrics have been playing in my head and I think that it is yet another sign from God that I should be listening to. So, I am.

He has been helping me find a new apartment and I don’t think anyone else could do what he has managed to do for me. He has been an amazing friend and I don’t even know how to thank him.

When I first saw him, I would go home every time and cry. I felt so bad because I felt like he is not the same person. He isn’t. I am. I haven’t changed. My emotions really haven’t changed towards him. He speaks softer and doesn’t make much eye contact. The electric current that used to be between us that you could almost see in the air is gone. It as if he has been unplugged somehow. He isn’t sarcastic. He doesn't seem as confident. He's lost weight and somehow seems defeated. Maybe it is just that seeing him is all new; I don't know. He doesn’t want to talk about the past at all. I’m a talker; I find it hard not to talk about it, but so be it. Let it go, DG.

Anyways, I had many months of unrealistic fantasies that he missed me as much as I missed him, and he was thinking about me when I was thinking about him. It was nice to feel like someone out there loved me and that “evil forces” were somehow keeping us apart. What it comes down to is realistic choices. How terribly anticlimactic.

I’m a typical Aries personality and I don’t like it when the choice isn’t MINE. I’m supposed to make the choices.

He is being a lot more mature about it than I am (calf dream). In a nutshell, he said that we tried as hard as we possibly could and nothing we did worked. We were making each other miserable and it couldn’t continue.

Again, the Aries in me wants to fight for it; be the champion of the cause. But fight until when? Okay, so I get it, but parts of me still don’t like it.

The Man has forgotten big chunks of our relationship which made me very sad. I don't know how anyone can do that, but I'm trying to understand it. Maybe it is his defense mechanism. Maybe he had to forget to move on. I don't do that. I remember details and covet them. I shouldn't. Let it go.

At the moment, I don’t know what I want. Bu Merdas is the polar opposite of The Man in terms of relationships. Where The Man was possessive (and I like that), Bu Merdas is a commitment-phobe who will bolt when he feels confined. I can’t feel secure in that even though he’s a great guy and many of the other pieces fit together nicely.

So, here I am again at the point where I was 3 years ago – kinda hoping for something better while I am massing X’s who are now best buddies. Perhaps I’m forming my own army of some sort, I don’t know. Its all part of God's plan, right?

This is a long post. Don’t care. Stop reading if you are bored. It is my therapy.

I met up with an old friend who I haven’t seen since 1990 in Washington. He was doing his PhD in political science. I learned through friends that he is here in Kuwait now as an ambassador. So, we met for dinner. It was very odd. He knew me when I was a teenager and seeing him again made me feel like an insecure teenager. He reminded me of a LOT of things I had forgotten about myself. How did I get such a terrible memory? Every other sentence out of his mouth was, “Sheikh Nasser (Ali, Meteb, flan, etc…) was asking about you after you left Washington.” OMG. I had no idea I had left such an impression. He reminded me of old friends that I haven’t thought of in years. Proving once again that I have always had more male friends than female! Eek. I guess I was popular and I didn’t even know it. Some of these people have gone on to become really important.

I used to go to embassy receptions and functions in Washington without even giving it a second thought (like to the Iraqi embassy’s national day party in 1986…. and even parties with the Libyan embassy staff before they closed the embassy in Washington… and the cool fountain at the Iranian embassy where my friend, Laura, snuck into one night with the son of a diplomat….the multitude of Kuwait National Day parties that even included dancing. What would the new parliament think!?) Apparently, others did give my presence a second thought. I hope that I wore the right thing and said the right thing. My mother wouldn’t have allowed me to leave the house if I hadn’t – I’m sure. She was a National Correspondent covering political affairs for a long time – and that included going to receptions and galas. All the party clothes I owned in the 80’s and early 90’s were from Neiman Marcus (thanks Mom!), so I must not have been too shabby.

You know when your mother tells you, "You should remember this time of your life because it will never happen again"? Why the HELL didn't I listen to her????

At that time, men were throwing gifts at me left and right and it totally pissed my mother off. She was of the philosophy that if a man bought you a gift, you owed him something. Now, I am of the same philosophy, but back then, I was living it up. Every time someone bought me a $500 dress, accessory, or piece of jewelry, my mother and I would go up to Mazza Gallerie to buy him a gift of equal value. It wasn’t cheap.

What happened to me???? Now, I’m going to gaadat at jkhoors in Chabd.

I knew a hell of a lot about the underbelly of politics in Washington at that time too. How could I forget all this stuff? I can’t blame in on one event like some of my girlfriends do, “I was in a terrible car accident and hit my head… lost your number….”

How is it that you can forget big chunks of your past and you wish that you could forget chunks of your not-so-distant past?

I am really philosophical today. Must be PMS.

One year since I've Heard The Man's Voice

I haven't posted because I've been dead - I'll write more about that later.

Today, it is the one year anniversary of the last time I spoke to The Man. It is the day of The Incident. One year in which he has proven that he didn't choose to be with me. He could have come and found me. He could have called me. He could have showed me that he wanted ME, but he didn't.

It is like I don't even know him because when he sees me, he looks right through me as if I'm not there. He doesn't speak to me, or to my friends, or to people that we know. I'm just not there.

When you love someone so much, how is it so easy to just forget them as if they never were? How can you do that? How can you go so far and then shift gears to reverse like nothing ever happened?

I've talked about this a million times with my girlfriends. I am/we are still confused. If our situation is the way it is now - does that mean that he never even cared to begin with? How is it possible that it was "real" love if the same person who loves you now doesn't know you? It goes against everything that I've ever believed in.

I think I am a good judge of character. I think I can determine when someone is good and decent or if someone will betray me. Why can't I understand this?

Tawhore

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

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.

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

Just Ask Desert Girl

For all you inquiring minds, I checked into TSC's JustAsk service and this was the response:

JustAsk

"We are 100% profit free. But you will be liable of paying the handling and shipping fee. Our handling fee is fixed to 4.5 KD on every online merchant you choose to order from the 1st five different items, after five exceeding item will be .300fils additional handling fee. However, if the item is only 1 kind of more than 5 it will be the same fee of KD 4.5 Our shipping fee is depend on the weight of the item. The 1st half kilo will be 3 KD. ... It is preferable to order more than 1 item in the same merchant since the handling will be the same."

So, for my single bottle of Cibu Hiya conditioner, for example,
Item Cost: KD 6.585 ($21.95)
Shipping: 3.330
Handling: 4.500
Total : 14.415

Each additional order is a separate S&H charge.


I spotted The Man. I don't know if he saw me or not. I know, I know - after everything and yet when I see him.... I wish there was just an on/off switch to make your heart stop feeling things. Or maybe some kind of total recall machine that you could eliminate certain memories to make you feel the way you did/do.

Why did he go to Phuket?
Why did he break all his promises?
Why couldn't he do things the right way?
Why did he ask me about money at 4 am after the fight?
Why did everything have to have an ulterior motive?

(She might have been there to gain information, but she's not my friend if that's all she wanted.)
Don't people ever get tired of the games and the hachi? Wallah, it makes me sick.

I digress. Phuckit.

I haven't heard a weather report, but I need to get back out on the boat and have a fun weekend!

Ya Ma Owed

Have you ever really wanted to trash someone on your blog and you just couldn’t do it because you are too phuckin classy? That’s my problem.

Recently, I have been told that I’m ugly by someone I cared about dearly. But perhaps the person who calls a person ugly is ugly, n’est pas? So sayeth my sister who is a slayer of mean people everywhere. I have been running around trying to collect affirmations. Coming from anyone else, I am sure it wouldn’t have stung me, but I have also found that he has told other people that I am ugly too. Those of you who know me – do you think I’m ugly? Shut the F up - I am too self-confident, but no woman wants to hear this kind of crap from a man they love/d. And no - I'm not going to lower myself to saying anything herein regarding his physical SHORTcomings. I wouldn't do that. I'm way too phuckin classy.

Have you ever really wanted just to haul off and bitch-slap someone, but you know you couldn’t do it because you are too phuckin classy? That’s also my problem.

I don’t talk about people’s personal appearance (unless you have 3 boobs or something and then I can’t help myself) because my parents taught me better. In fact, I often don’t even remember what a person looked like beyond their eyes – because that is what I look at to determine what kind of a person they are. Do I miss things? Hell yes – and that is why I usually bring my girlfriends who will nit-pick a person to death starting with their shoes and girth of their fingers. Thank God – they have been my saving graces on a few occasions.

Anyhow, I know that a lot of things in life I just deserve because it is karma; what bad things I have done will eventually come around to bite me when I don’t expect it. Apparently, this is one of those occasions.

What I am really trying to say – Ya ma owed - Inta sh’aku?

Ok – on to another more pleasant subject: I got my new car. I lie. My sister “buys me” a new car every several years for me (her) to use during the one month of the year that I am there. I don’t even know if she’ll allow me to drive this one, however. It is big-bad-black Merc with the AMG package. I can smell the new-car-interior now….

I had the opportunity to hang out with Psychic Bedu recently. What a teddy bear. I just adore him. I want to hug him all the time. You know - sometimes God just brings you people to make you feel PRETTY. Sometimes God also brings you people who you just want to hug all the time.

Bunny has been really supportive lately. (He makes me feel PRETTY too.) He worries about me. He’s my knight on a white stallion (ok, Caprice). Like he says, “You are one of my flock and I feel like it is my duty to protect you.” I know – aaaaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwww, right? Yup.

Did any of you see that cruel stunt in the Kuwait Times yesterday? BASTARDS. It was even funnier because one of my friends in the Emir’s office forwarded it to me before I heard about it in the paper. That is just SO WRONG. Here it is: ABSOLUTE BULLSHIT


Alcohol legal in Kuwait
Published Date: April 01, 2007


KUWAIT: In a surprise move aimed at fostering tourism, Kuwait's government announced yesterday that alcohol would be legalised in Kuwait starting May 25 after more than 40 years of prohibition. Alcohol will be available only in five star establishments or at state liquor outlets and sold only to non-Muslim expatriates holding a liquor-consuming ration cards. Each expatriate will be allowed five bottles of liquor or 100 bottles of beer per month at government regulated stores. Any Muslim caught buying or consuming alcohol will face stiff penalties.

In December 1964, Kuwait's government banned all liquor within its borders following a series of drunken driving fatalities, primarily of citizens. Prohibition triggered a flourishing underground bootlegging trade both in smuggled alcohol and bathtub gin.

This past week, international beverage firm Eastern Liquors has won the sole distribution license and will be partnering with local establishments for sales and marketing. EL is a regional leader in beverage distribution, with operations in Abu Dhabi, Dubai, Doha and Manama.

Sources within the security forces told Kuwait Times that a special squad of 225 local police have already undergone training in the United Arab Emirates and Britain for handling drunk drivers. Persons caught driving while intoxicated face up to five years in jail and a KD 10,000 fine.
Establishments that will be licensed to sell alcohol include ...

Continued on Page 8...


Happy April Fools’ Day
- Kuwait Times

I must use my powers for good and not evil

I announced by SMS to my girls that “I want to kiss a boy”. (And by “boy” I am referring to one who is about my age.) I went to a party and I almost kissed a boy. (Ok, he was more like a man, but one never knows, do one?) I was intent on kissing a boy – as I regularly am – and yet, somehow I manage to be too shy and girly (yes me, shut UP!) and never go through with it. He was right there, whispering something in my ear (ok, he was shouting because the speaker was next to my other ear, but it felt just like whispering). His face was brushing against mine. The mood was set. There was candle light and lots of whiskey. Romantic by Kuwaiti standards, right? There was a fire (room heater) in the tent. And then, and then, and then… I couldn’t do it. Damn. Why do I have to be so pure and virginal (shut up!!!). Anyhow, maybe later. I have all of these stupid pre-conceived dating rules – including never kissing when 1) I’m at a party 2) I’m drunk at a party c) I don’t know the boy and have never seen him before 3) All the boys friends were probably watching and e) all my friends would make fun of me later for 1, 2, c and 3 above.

Anyways, got his number, he got mine. He did the gentlemanly thing and called to make sure that I got home (at 5:43 am as I was walking through the door). Me likes.

I didn’t know anybody there. Romanian and her sister brought me to their friends’ camp and I adore the guys now. They were SO nice! Such gentlemen. Anyways, late on in the evening/morning, one of the guys comes and sits down next to me. He’s bedu, so he’s being very polite as I’m a new guest and all that. He took my hand as if to hold it. He took a ring off his finger and put it on mine. He held my hand. And THEN – he starts telling me ALL about my life! Holy shit this guy was accurate! He knew details. He’d never seen me before. I know the Romanian doesn’t talk about anyone ever. She is totally loyal. Anyways, the guy started telling me intimate details about The (former) Man. He spoke as if he was talking “from the heart”. Very intense and revealing. Leetle bit o’drama: I burst into (whiskey) tears (yes me, I have a sensitive side) and walked out of the tent. (Yes, I did give him his ring back.) Then, the Romanian jumped to my defense. She thought that Dude was offending me in some way, “What did you say to my friend? Did you insult her?” All he would say is, “She knows. She knows.” So, my girlfriends grabbed their bags and we left. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen the Romanian so mad; cute little thing was defending me! Anyways, we called the guy and apologized later. The guy felt really bad. Apparently no one had told him that I am a basket case. It just totally freaked me out and perhaps that new brand of whiskey – whateveritwas – was just too much for my Irish blood.

Ok, I omitted this paragraph about the Man formerly known as The Man because 1) it was mean 2) God is going to get me for being mean and 3) The fact that I really want to be that mean is disturbing me greatly. However, having said that, I am not over all that baggage (obviously from above). He stole someone very important to me and replaced him with someone I don't know. Ever heard that Pretender's song "Back on the chain gang". That's us. And he is allowing it to happen.

"The powers that be

That force us to live like we do

Bring me to my knees

When I see what they've done to you

But I'll die as I stand here today

Knowing that deep in my heart

They'll fall to ruin one day

For making us part."

As I have said before, and I will say again - I just want to know where you have buried his body because you are NOT him. I would like to be able visit his grave because that person is gone and I don't feel like I have anything tangible to grieve over. THAT man wouldn't be this way. THAT man was strong and protected me from bad things. THAT man wouldn't allow a witch to come between us. Did you think that my life would stand still without you? Did you think that time would stop because YOU took away my choice? Do you want me to wait and for how long??? While you are doing who-knows-what? You have no right to judge me now.
Why do you want to take the easy way? Why won’t you fight? What makes you feel so down when you have so many gifts to bring you up? Stand up! Fight!

Ok, back to our regularly scheduled program.

The other guy that I was going to save as fodder for future blog posts – He’s history. Yup. Met him on a Thursday – exactly 1 week to the day and he was out. Simply stunted. Didn’t want to go out in public. Invited me (the night it rained real hard) to dinner in the desert (shinHU?). Finally, when Romanian and I were out for coffee – going to the same place as he was going and purely by coincidence (swearaGod) – he said he would be there but there were “too many people” to be “seen” with us. Yeh. As if. He thinks he’s from Kharafi or something. Gateeeeyeh. I sent him an SMS saying, “you don’t know what you want or how to get it”. He sends back, “How do I get it ;)” AS IF phuckin lech. I send back, “2 KD and a shawarma in Jleeb will get you what you want.” Fodder.

I had dinner with Yum Yum man and his cousin last night at Teng Chao (which unfortunately reminds me of Hamster and his sisters). He is ALL about business (snore), but I can't turn him down because I love to look at him. He never takes the bait and never flirts, which just drives me INsane. Last night was the first time that he wasn't in a dishtasha and I thought I would swoon. He's got amazing hair - kind of like Shamlan used to have - all wavy and gorgeous (mashallah, mashallah). If only he wasn't so annoyingly married and happy. Damn the fates!

Purgy’s sushi competition is tonight. Edo vs. Sakura. SAKURA RULES BABY!!!! I’ve been to Ego about a gazillion times. I just don’t like the “oh so polite” people who frequent it and the “oh so small’ portions. I want to check out Purgy too to make sure that he’s not one of those “limp wristed” sushi eating men. He sounds like he’s not, but I must check. I’ll let you guys know. Anyhoo, I told him to sit far away because I have a very strong gag reflex. Tee hee. (That is so not true BTW)

Icicles to Ice

I had THE coolest dream last night. I often dream of moving into houses – and they are usually very cool houses with interesting angles and architecture. I loved last night’s house. It was on the beach – I mean, part of the house was built ON the beach and my bedroom was partially solid (where the bed was) and the other half was glass – actually IN the ocean. The floor, walls, and ceiling were glass, so that turquoise water was all around me. It was amazing. Desert Dawg was with me and my mother and sister were somewhere in the background (they are always there too when I move into a new house in my dreams). I was sitting on my bed – everything was white – and watching the waves in front of me crashing into my glass wall. I loved the dream. I felt so content. Supposedly, dreaming of moving into new homes signifies changes in your life. Apparently, I have had a lot of changes because I often move monthly.

My dream world is so much more interesting than my awake world. How pathetic.

The Romanian has suggested that I see a shrink while I’m in the States to help me cope with getting over The Man – as I haven’t 100% yet. (Also known as “we are still very sick of hearing about him.) That is kind of the pot calling the kettle wacked. LOL. I know it takes time and all that BS, but I’m not like this. This isn’t me. I move on; I forget. I am also an innately forgiving person. I can’t move on; I can’t forget; and I can’t forgive. I know that it is eating up my insides. I keep asking myself how the wonderful man I knew was replaced by this mean, insensitive, uncaring creature who makes me feel like only a shell of a human is left of myself. I’m not this way. Why do I feel like this? I don’t believe in shrinks – not even when the worst of the worst stuff has happened in my life. I am sure that this too will pass.

Maybe because it is close to Christmas and last year at this time, I was full of high hopes and happiness and thinking that we were getting married. At a restaurant we used to frequent, they had icicle lights (strands of little white lights that looked like icicles). The Man and I both loved them and talked about decorating with them at our wedding reception. For Christmas, he gave me a necklace and earring set that made me cry – they were icicles. It was a beautiful and incredibly thoughtful surprise. How could that man have changed so much? What kind of evil spell was cast to do this?

My horoscope this month in Bazaar Magazine said something profound. I don’t think the editor knows me THAT well, but it read something like, “You were abandoned by a parent early in life. You make up for your subliminal feelings of inadequacy by being overly giving.” Holy crap, Batman. That could be it. But wait… I am so bitchy and mean… God, I’m schizophrenic. Maybe I should see that shrink.

I know I should forgive The Man and turn everything I feel into pity and just walk away, but – as they say in Kuwait, “fee dooda.” The majority of my time is spent in mental clarity, but I will suddenly revert and slip right back into “that place” and I am really trying not to be so down.

One more week and I’m back with my family.

Mashallah, Mashallah, Mashallah

hampSo, like…. I haven't written anything in a while because I have become domesticated. I don't know how that happened, really, but September 29th was the date that changed me.

I can't believe that I am going to say this (out loud and in my head), but I have actually started baking – like a Domestic Goddess. I mean, The Man asked me to make an apple pie; and I did. Then, The Man asked me to make Toll House cookies; and I did. He asked me to make coffee in the morning; and I did. All this – without any bitching, moaning, or complaining; I just did it; Totally unlike me. No take-out was involved. We didn't go to any restaurants. I cooked. Me. Alone. No help and nothing was out of a box mix. All of a sudden, I'm Betty Frickin Crocker … and I'm liking it.

What has happened to my world in such a short amount of time? All it took was some (sincere) decency, sweet words, and unselfish acts of kindness. Ah, the world is such a pretty place, isn't it?

Ok… enough Ferdinand stopping to smell the flowers….

I have to tell you about Thanksgiving. The Artist Formerly Known as Sheeshagirl had a Thanksgiving shin-dig (hootinany) at her house. She cooked 2 enormous turkeys, stuffing, sweet potatoes, string beans. I made my mom's famous root veggie puree, cranberry sauce, and baked apples. Most people brought deserts. There was very little alcohol involved which is totally untraditional, but kind of nice (no fist fights on the front lawn or drunken arguments).

There were about 25 people there – mostly new friends from Camp Arifjan or Doha. Naz came with his new bride, Z. Z is an innocent. I don't think she realizes much of what comes out of her mouth until much later. She talks and Naz smiles and sometimes makes strange facial expressions when she's not looking. Sometime after dinner, the conversation came around to matters of mahar (dowry). Z stated very innocently that she was the "cheapest in her family" – sending everybody into new heights of laughter. I don't believe it was what she meant to say. She's just so cute. One of the American guys said that if he had to pay a big mahar to his wife, they'd better put a pole in their bedroom. Z didn't catch that one either. Funny stuff.

I think The Man had a great time too. Everybody else went to different parties after the dinner. We went home because I was falling asleep. How is THAT possible?