Bricks in the Sand?

I haven't been able to blog (for your information, MuslimArtist) because I am workin like a dawg all day (one of the partners is in town) and I'm so sleepy when I get home that I don’t even want to watch dirty movies anymore. I just go to sleep. That is so pathetic and lame.

I dreamt I was digging up bricks in the sand last night. What does that mean? Is it a Kharafi nightmare?

I haven't seen much of Mr. Paris lately, although I am liking him. He's saying the right stuff and it is genuine. My ears are Highly Sensitive Bullshit Detectors and the gauge has been detecting only trace levels.

Ironically, Future Husband and Father of My Children has been showing interest of late (aka "sniffin around"). What is with these guys and how do they automatically KNOW when other men are in the picture? Do they have jealousy radar or what? Why can't they just stretch out the luuuuuve? Why is it peaks and valleys? Am I the only female experiencing this phenomenon?

And then there is yet another man in the picture – totally handsome, yummy, funny, intelligent, etc. (a bowling buddy) – however, he is married and wants me to be Mutaa girl. I told him (in complete seriousness) that I would require a diamond (as in NOT ZIRCON) engagement ring as mahar. He laughed. I told him my ring size. Go forth, young man, to yonder jeweler! Yo – if I'm going to respect his wishes/religion, then damn if he's not gonna have to respect mine. Bada BING.

I think Mr. Paris is the best option. Of course, in 2 weeks, they will have all disappeared again and I will be in another valley because they can't figure out how to properly manage time.

And to make matters really pathetic – I haven't actually had the time to see any of these guys. Desert Dawg is even being neglected. Last night, she jumped into the bathtub; not a hint, but a demand.

What happened to my FUN life? What happened to happy hours and going to get massages and pedicures and hair treatments? What happened to shopping at gourmet shops and sipping wine? What happened to pretty dresses and dancing? Damn. . . this does suck!

Official Bitching

The other night, I was bitchin to my friend who works for the Prime Minister. I complained mostly about the traffic in the free trade zone which is still very much on my damn nerves. When I got done with my incessant ramblings, I asked him if he could relay a compliment to Sabah Al Ahmad - that I have seen improvements since he has been PM. My friend said, "Why dont' you tell him yourself? We show him all the comments people post to his website." (http://www.dpm.gov.kw/) Finally, an Official way for me to vent!

This could be a good thing. Maybe I will become a regular. Maybe Sheikh Sabah and I will become buds and discuss various happenings around the country. Maybe I can give him my frank oppinion of things. Maybe.... I'll just get my ass kicked out of Kuwait. Ok, but now that I know someone will see something I've rambled about, my world has a different meaning.

Trucks in the free trade zone can't move between 6:30 and 9:30 am and 12:30 and 3:30 pm. At 9 am, they start rolling - causing everyone who is trying to get into the FTZ at that time a major butt pain. At 5:00 - when you would think that they wouldn't allow trucks on the road - there they is! Since the free trade zone is supposed to be international, most of us don't go home at 1:00 like the "normal" Kuwaiti population. We have to wait until international close o'business at 5. It sucks and not in a good way.

What I'm Doing This Summer

Last night, I went to a meeting of homeboys (Americans) at a seafood restaurant. I usually don't like these meetings because they are full of Middle-Aged-Fat-White-Men-In-Blue-Suits, yuckity-yucking it up over dinner sans alcohol (unless it is at the U ASS Embassy - which I don't go to anyways because it is too stuffy). I'm having more fun at the meetings, lately, however - primarily due to the fact that I have found some buddies there and I get to flirt non-stop throughout the whole event (secretly giggling about the white men). Last night was no exception. My Buddies are Kuwaitis and we now have a secret code with hand signals and noises that cracks us all up. I am like the bad little kid during group activities. I am The Instigator.

The downside was that I (and several other people) got sick from the dinner. The food was really bad. I should just learn to bring sushi with me in a cooler or something. I don't want to eat anything else anymore.

Ok - except for the little French cafe my new interest (Mr. Paris) took me to last Wednesday. It is at the rear of Fanar under the area where the cinemas are. They have AMAZING steak (that's all they serve). Go there - it's yummy.

Mr. Paris is Mr. Paris because he used to own a hotel - guess where - that's right: Paris. He's Kuwaiti. Also went to school in the US. I met the traditional way: online. Thought he would probably turn out stupid or fugly, but so far, has been rockin my world (to an extent - I don't rock so easily). I have received no flowers as of yet and his attentiveness level needs to be kicked up a few notches (they all need proper training), but he's intelligent; funny; handsome; has all his hair and teeth; and divorced (don't worry - I'm checking out that last part). I'm too damn cynical. I don't take anything at face value anymore. How can you?

I've had a crappy couple of weeks. Have you noticed that odd numbered years SUCK? I always have much more fun during even-numbered years.

Today is father's day. What the hell am I doing here away from my family and it is 120 degrees and dust is now part of my skintone and my job doesn't make me happy and I haven't gotten flowers in a long time?

Oh! Sorry! Brainfart. I'm back.

My sister is at her beach house this weekend in Maryland. No doubt drinking chardonay and eating crabs and going out on their boat, etc. etc. (August, baybeeeeeeeeeee!)

I get to walk over 4' dunes from where my car is parked to my front entranceway (construction). Does that count? When will KHARA FI end the madness?????? I woke up at 5:15 am yesterday to the sound of jackhammers outside my window. I swear to God that I would have thrown something at them, but I would have had to get out of bed to do it (I'm thinkin a potato gun and some rotten tomatos).

Have you been to the scientific center and seen the size of the acquarium? THAT is how much tequilla I am going to drink when I get back to the States in August! Sha-zayam!

Yo, Stupid!

So, I met a man a while back on a blind date. We talked on the phone for a while and then decided to meet to have coffee. We hit it off and there was some chemistry. We talked for a while... I got my flirt on. During our 3 hours of conversation, he told me about a friend of his at work who told him that he shouldn't meet me - that all American women in Kuwait are really fat. Oooooooooh tay. Blinddateman was happy when he met me, and said that he would report the truth to his colleague the following day. Everything fine so far.

Then, Blinddateman called and asked me to dinner the following Thursday and I should decide on a restaurant. So far, so good.

He called back the next day and said, "You don't mind if I bring my friend, do you? He is dying to see what you look like." FUMBLE!!!!

I told him to have a great time on his romantic date with his friend.

What makes people so stupid?

Oh My God! Villa Moda is Having a Sale!

At first, I thought it was voting time for municipal dudes or something - cars were parked everywhere at Villa Moda's end of the Free Trade Zone. Then, I thought it might have something to do with Kuwait University, but noooooooooooooooo....

Let's all drive to Villa Mucha ... no wait...let's all have our drivers take us to Villa Mucha! Let's have the drivers park in rows, 2 to 3 cars across - and then wait in the heat for us. Everybody who's "anybody" is going to be there! And since all the girls will be there, all the men should go to check them out; frontin' that they have more than 2kd in their pockets at the time.

Honestly, I long to have a driver and I don't think I could afford even a pair of panties at Villa Mucha. I am too insecure to go there anyhoo: Maybe some too-cute little princess will strike up a conversation with her too-cute princess friends about the size and circumferance/orbit of my butt and I would spend the next several days in a bad mood. Further, there are only 2 times when I live in fear of my dearly-beloved Kuwaiti sisters: 1) buffet lines at weddings, and 2) sales. I have learned, in either case, to get the hell out of the way and quickly.

UFO's (Unexplained Freaky Occurrances) at the Free Trade Zone! Ok, let's just call it a "coincidence" that the 3' deep pot holes along the exit road (and many others directly around Villa Moda) have been filled this week and the pavement resurfaced; even though cars have literally been dropping into them for the past year. Let's call it "ironic" that all of a sudden, during VM sale days, Ports Authority policemen have been directing traffic; even though they are nowhere in sight the remaining 363 days of the year when fender-benders take place almost on a daily basis. Villa Moda is having a SALE!

And now that I am on a roll...More UFO's:

The FTZ is a penninsula and over the past few years (as anticipated) is overflowing with new companies and lots of employees. You would think that SOMEONE in some governmental planning capacity might have thought of this stuff, right?

There is only one road into and out of the Free Tee Zee. WHY?

At 60 and 80 (I'm a typical American - the kind that goes by road numbers and not names; 60 is Ghazalli, but I haven't figured out what 80 is), the exit out of the Free Trade Zone (also referred to as "the Free Tee Zee") heading towards Kuwait City has been cut off to traffic for years. Now that exit to 80 heading both directions is under construction. WHY?

Trucks are restricted from using the road during certain hours, but at PEAK hours (like 5:00) they ARE allowed on the road, causing back-ups that can leave people stuck in their cars for anywhere from 30 minutes to over an hour. WHY?

At 12:00 (lunchtime - duuh), the traffic is so bad that it takes you about 45 minutes to get out of the FTZ. There are also only 2 restaurants in the FTZ. You can only eat so many Barnie's sandwiches and salads and Movenprick's restaurants don't open for "lunch" until 12:30 and the service sucks. Might as well stay in the office and get delivery from 6alabat.com (which is really good, by the way).

Further, since there is a 3' deep pothole in one lane (maybe that one is too far away from Villa Mucha to be filled?), all the trucks, cars, busses, FRICKIN MORONS have to squeeze into 1 lane. Bobarino takes great joy in driving his rental Yukon out of the FTZ - pushing anybody who tries to squeeze into his lane without a Proper Invitation back into their rightful place: behind him. "Go ahead - HIT my bigass rental truck!"

Here is the real question: What has anyone got to rush TO at 5:30 pm? Happy hour at T.G.I.Friday's? I think not.

I have scoped it out: There just are NOT any places I could illegally 4-wheel-drive my Discovery over to navigate around the traffic. Alas, it is futile.

I thought about ferry service - maybe from Ras Salmiya. The problem with this scenario is the time it takes to load and off-load. I just heard that Kuwait is planning a metro system. That should be interesting. Dunno if it will go to the FTZ, but by then - maybe they would have figured out the traffic problem.

I have no life. I am a pathetic spinster girl. That is why everything annoys me. That is why I have the time to sit down and complain about everything that annoys me. :D

Ladi Dadi We Like to Pahty

This weekend, I thought I would bring my 2 groups of buddies together to see what would happen. Sometimes it is just fun to stir up the shyt.

So, I brought together the crazy bowling group, consisting of 2 Lebanese sisters (who I can’t really figure out because they just STARE at me all the time – oh, one is the Public Singer also), my friend, Moh, and his friends Habib and Hash. Mohammed totally dissed me – didn’t even bother to call before blowing me off. Didn’t even SMS. Hash brought a very funny friend (with disturbingly small hands) that I hope we will see more of (the guy, not the hands).

From the other gang was SheeshaGirl and her Moh, MuslimArtist and the Greek, Naz, Bobarino and FishGirl. I sat in the middle incase any really bad fights broke out.

It was fun to begin with because we went to my favorite restaurant in the whole world, Sakura, and sat in one of their party rooms where you have to sit in Weird Chairs with No Legs and put your legs in a hole: It was buffet day (Fridays between 12-3, all you can eat sushi for 8.900), so seeing all your friends suffer to get up and down from that weird table was truly amusing in itself.

Low and behold, everyone got along. I particularly liked the new guy they brought along (with the disturbingly small hands). Very funny and kept me motivated to pick on people – like Naz, who will kill me one day with an aikido move if I don’t leave him alone (‘waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa’ – as I move my hands through the air like a ninja warrior). The only person throwing anything was me – at opportune moments when I could throw a napkin at either SheeshaGirl or Naz.

The 2 Lebanese chicks were staring down SheeshaGirl and/or Moh (we later discovered that they knew Moh from his former party days). Public Singer Girl leaned over about 5 times to ask me where the men (and only the men) are from, and their stories. What am I – the National Enquirer?

At a lull in the conversation, Public Singer Girl broke into a very loud rendition of something [as one member of our group (you know who you are!) said, “Who the fu.. does she think she is – Fairuz?”]. I couldn’t get my legs out of the hole in the ground or out of the Funky Chair With No Legs fast enough to perpetrate a call or run from embarrassment to the bathroom. No, I had to stick it out and watch MuslimArtist’s and SheeshaGirls’ faces as the song wore on. Both had what appeared to be Kermit The Frog faces on (you know, big eyes popping out and their lips disappeared into a funny line). I was laughing and crossing my eyes at them. Maybe she smokes crack. I don’t know. Maybe it is a pathetic attempt to gain attention (I would imagine MALE attention). Alls I can say is THANK GOD WE WERE IN A PRIVATE ROOM because as it was, I happened to know 2 of the cute guys outside at one of the tables (they are both jerks) and that would have really been embarrassing. Kids: Don’t do drugs!

During the middle of the meal, my friend Moh called to apologize, but I was relatively pissed off (I hate being publicly dissed – ok, I hate being dissed at all, but much worse in front of a group of friends), so I handed the phone to one of his buddies. (Get this – he was later mad at ME for being mad at him – AS IF, DUDE!)

As it was, the Brazillian and her monster husband were supposed to show up – and didn’t. I’m tired of those 2 letting me down; you can only extend so many invitations before you give up. BAM!

So, anyhoo, we had some coffee and everyone parted ways, promising to get together again soon.

I was supposed to get together that night with someone (I won’t mention who because he has let me down so many times before that I have now shocked myself for allowing him to get away with it), but he dissed me too. DAMN HIM! He made me mad at myself for believing him again.

It was one of those weekends.

The good thing was that I sent my sister her birthday presents ON TIME for once and got them off in a FedEx package. I hope she likes all the really cool stuff I have been saving for her (are you reading this, Booberry?). I try hard to get things in the mail in time, but I usually don’t get to it, even though my intentions and my plans are always good.

The following excerpt from my life is dedicated to my friend, Kuwaiti Chopper Dude:

I was with Bobarino the other night, going to the Sultan Center (which is now TOTALLY on my shyt list). Bobarino was driving his Urban Assault Vehicle (built for a family of 16). He stopped to let a guy in a Prelude (which is a CHICK CAR anyways) into one of the 2 parking spaces that was opening up in front of us. The 2 cars that were leaving were parked next to each other, so there was plenty of room for Chick Car Dude to leave us a space. What does he do? He parks sideways between the 2 spaces. Ok, I kind of knew (I guess) that the window was open when I blurted out, “F-ing Moron!”. (I know – not too “lady-like” eh?) Soooo, we proceed into the Sultan Center and guess what? Chick Car Dude comes in and accosts me in front of people at the produce counters, asking, “Do I look like an F-ing moron to you?” - in a very loud voice. I demurely said, ‘Why yes, actually you do,’ with a slight smile. So, he was starting to get up in my face and I was looking for my partner in crime, Bobarino (who is equally as pissed off at the world as I am right now). Chick Car Dude sees me look around and immediately launches himself at Bobarino. Bobarino asks him politely 3 times to back away, before removing his glasses and telling the guy that he will beat the crap out of him if he doesn’t leave (which sent the produce guy into a giggle fit, “You are American, sir? That man wanted to fight you, but was afraid when he saw you would fight him.”). People were moving out of the area when they saw what was taking place. Meanwhile, I was trying to explain to the VERY stupid Sultan Center Door Greeters that they needed to call security. They just stood there looking at me (no, I am NOT asking you for your phone number!).

Ok, this was all my fault. I admit it. I apologize for it, but hey…. He WAS a f-ing moron. I couldn’t help it.

Which brings me to another reason why I am not very fond of the Sultan Center at present: Last week, I walked into TSC with my friend, SheeshaGirl. She walked in front of me. As I was walking through the door, a TSC Greeter Dude stepped in front of me, all smiles and flirty-like and says, “Don’t buy any chocolate. You’re too fat.” Because of the expression on his face – I really don’t think he meant anything bad by it, but when you are going to a store with the sole purpose of purchasing food items, it is kind of a major appetite depressant. I told SheeshaGirl and all of a sudden, it was as if I had a Jewish God-mother: “Oh my GAWD! He did NOT say that to you! Eshtaaaaaaaawaaaaa? Ayeshey! La! La! La! Ayeshey!” We walked up to the customer service counter and I asked to speak to the very-nice manager on duty who apologized profusely to me and had a big bag of chocolate waiting for me at the check-out line. Ok, I might have a leetle baby fat, but no way am I worthy of that kind of comment. What Greeter Dude SHOULD have said was, “Don’t buy any chocolate – you’re too sweet,” but alas, he too was a F-ing moron.

SheeshaGirl called her mom on speed dial and they were ready to have the entire SheeshaGirl tribe at Sultan Center to avenge me, but it really wasn’t necessary (although really, very cute). Following the call to SheeshaGirl Mom, she called her boyfriend, Mohammed (also on speed dial), who only laughed and told her that it was Greeter Dude’s F-ed up way of trying to pick me up. That is just the lamest thing I’ve heard of in my whole life. Why not, “Hey girl – you smell bad. I know you want me, baby.”

So yes, Kuwait, I AM in desperate need of a vacation. I’m either on the verge of tears all the time, or I want to go postal.

And now.... More on Chick Cars

Iin the Desert Girl World, real men don’t drive the following cars:

• Cabriolets: they scream, “girlie man”
• BMW 318i: watch re-runs of 90210. Girl car. I saw a very tuff friend of mine driving one of these recently and it has completely ruined my image of him.
• Preludes: “bella dude”.
  

There are probably more, but I can’t think of them right now. AND, if you are a man and you drive any of the aforementioned vehicles, I sincerely hope that you do not wear pastels or capri pants. (shivers down my spine)

Is that enough for today? I think so.

Happy Birthday, baby sister. You are the brightest star in my universe. Your kindness and compassion for so many people and the way your touch our lives is a true blessing. You are always with me, even when we are apart.

May the road rise to meet you.

May the wind be always at your back.

May the sun shine warm upon your face.

And rains fall soft upon your fields.

And until we meet again,

May God hold you in the hollow of His hand.

Elf elf elf elf Mabrook Ya Kuwaitiat!

I guess because I’m working with all Americans that I don’t feel like part of the celebration – nor have I really noticed it around me. The newspapers seem kind of luke-warm about it. I am just so happy. Maybe people don’t understand the significance of the day. 100 years from now, they will look back and say that they can’t believe that women were not allowed to vote.

I can remember when the 1st go-around in parliament was voted down. One of my former colleagues at work, a young Kuwaiti guy, said, “I’m glad they can’t vote. What will they want next – to be in the military?” I looked him in the eye and said, “I knew some of the women that went to fight to protect Kuwait during the occupation. Where were you?” He turned bright red and walked away. I haven’t heard from him in a loooooooooooong time, so I sent him a congratulatory SMS. Tee hee.

It is so amazing to be here during these times. I wonder how the laws will change: divorce laws, women’s rights, social laws. Very cool times are ahead.

“…and now, for something completely different…”

A women’s rights issue of another kind; MY right to tranquility and “normal” friends. SheeshaGirl is now on my last nerve. For several reasons. (PMS again.) First, let’s start with the poor-pathetic-spinster-friend-pity, “Ooooh, maskeena. You’ll find somebody. You just have to go through some frogs first just like I did before I met Mohammed and look how wonderful he is…” Let me bitch about this for a moment, ‘kay? The reason why she had to go through “frogs” is because that’s all she dated. LOSER-FROGS. And, to her, they were all “woooooooooooonderful”. “Isn’t flan just woooooooooooonderful? I mean, he gets drunk, almost wrecks my car, and then wants to have sex with me, but won’t kiss me on the lips because that’s too intimate. That’s okay. He’s still a great guy, don’t you think?” NO! I’m not kissin’ any damn frogs to get to the prince. I want a one-way, non-stop, non-refundable ticket to prince-kissin’. I mean it. Second, she’s had her new job for 2 weeks. She’s had five major ailments. Call a waaaaaaaaaaaaambulance! She sounds like somebody’s grandmother. Let me count for a moment: “severe” sinus infection; neck pains, back pain, throat infection. As Bobarino says, “Under or over 34.” What? It means will she have her job under or over 34 days. I’m guessing under, but God love her, I hope not. I was wrong about the Sheesha – she quit cold turkey.

Zzzzzzzzzzzz SEGWAY…

Have you ever been totally in love (ok adoration) with someone that you have never met (kind of like George Clooney maybe) because … well…. just because. (You know who you are here.) I have this friend that I have never met who I understand and who understands me and for some reason, he has become like my mother or sister: he knows when I am thinking about him. There have been very few people in my life who could actually do that – and none at all who I have never met in person. My mom, my sister, my friends Naz and Ali, Shamlan, Bunny… they know/knew when I was thinking about them. Shamlan could tell when I was coming down with a cold from the other side of the continent without hearing from me in a week. Back to my story. This guy is dear to my heart and there is some kind of connection there, regardless what it is. I just hope you know that you are in my thoughts and my prayers and I am wishing for the sun to shine on you every single day. You have done small acts of kindness along your way and God will bless you. I love you, angel man.

Breaking into song. (another change)

Let me ask you something – does unaccompanied singing in a public place bother you? It bothers the crap out of me. For example tonight – I went out with some friends to eat dinner. One of the ladies with us is Lebanese and (I guess this is a Lebanese thing -???), she occasionally bursts into song while we are out eating. This bothers me on several levels. I get embarrassed. I don’t like people staring at me/us and I usually have to get up and perpetrate a call or just run to the bathroom to avoid having to sit there. I don’t even think I could stand it if the songster was at a table in close PROXIMITY to where I was sitting. Why do they DO that? There are appropriate times and places for unaccompanied song; like in the shower or in the car. Leave me out of it. I don’t even care if the songster was say…Andrea Bocelli or Mariah or a professional whoever. It just plain bothers me big time.

You know what else bothers me? Those pan-flute people at the Crowne Plaza. They follow you around until you throw money at them to STOP. One time (not at band camp), I was in one of the private restaurant rooms there with 9 other people getting wasted on 6 bottles of alcohol. The host simply adoooooores the pan flutists and was paying them to continue. I immediately lost my buzz. Well, I managed to get it back after some more saki (or was it vodka? Red wine? – I dunno).

Thankfully, I always take ear plugs with me. They are my own form of Kuwaiti fashion accessory; ideal for the unaccompanied singer, pan flute player, and ubiquitous loud Kuwaiti party. Fortunately for ME, I have found that they also work when whiny, AAP (Arab American Princess) friends start complaining about their various ailments. At least she can vote now, so maybe Kuwait will get better health care (preferably pshchiatric).

Ear plugs for EVERYONE!

Single Girl Lament

Sometimes I feel like my other half is right here with me. The “right guy” is right here, but I just haven’t met him yet. I can feel a presence, but he’s just not physically there. I’m wondering if maybe the chance was passed and he’s already gone; or maybe God is giving me some sign that I just shouldn’t give up hope – that the person who I am supposed to be with is within reach: That person who knows you without explanation or redundant talk; That person who you can just be comfortable with and who gets all your quirky jokes and odd outbursts and who laughs with it all.

Sometimes I wonder if the guy is actually a ghost: maybe it is the actual person that I know on “the other side” making himself known to me by little pieces of comfort – like dreams that you can’t completely remember in the morning, but leave you happy throughout the day.

Maybe it’s just projection. Days and weeks and months go by and you still live alone, eat alone, sleep alone and you wonder if your other half is only the other half of your brain matter talking nonsense; telling you that everyone is destined to meet the person right for them. All the thoughts of a busy work day turn into a cloud of noise when you get home, so you don’t feel quite alone with yourself. The noise of the office and the traffic and the construction down the street continues in your head long after it is finished for the day.

You get too tired to go out with friends and too bored with the same old places and superficial faces, so you make your nest and go to sleep till the next day. And then you realize – what the fu…: it is just PMS.

The Truth Hurts

I had more to write, since my friend, SummerQ8, got me fired up again.

More on married men: I've got a guy calling me right now, saying, "Please let me see you. I promise you - you are the ONLY one?" Well, chellooooooo - I bet your wife thought that when she married you and had your kids, right? Bet she still thinks she’s the only one.

Let's take my x-fiance for example. I thank God every time I mention him that I didn't marry him (thank you, God). He’s Kuwaiti and I’ve known him most of my adult life. I used to admire him. He was lonely when his father died, so he couldn't wait the 6 months it would have taken me to get to Kuwait to check out the family and the country. (And I’m HERE now, aren’t I and liking it just fine, but not because of him.) So, he married his sister's friend (who is really a lovely lovely person and I like her). They have 7 (as in SEVEN) children. That in itself is Jerry Springer hailag in my book. The last 3 kids were - in his words - "mistakes". I said, "What were you running across the floor, tripped, and your penis fell in her?" She has diabetes and the last 3 births almost killed her. After child #6, she had her tubes tied. (Why? Because it isn’t masculine to have a vasectomy.) Apparently, the tubes became un-tied (or whatever doctor did the procedure incorrectly). So, lucky 7 was a big mistake and almost killed her. After she gave birth and was going through the 40 day stay-at-home period, X-Dude calls me, and says (I still can not friggin believe he said this), “Do you know any girls you can hook me up with?” I know all his 5 sisters-in-law. They are my friends. I like his wife. As a woman, I was offended. Knowing them, I was even more offended. Having him ask me if I knew any girls, I was more more offended. THANK YOU, GOD!!!! I said, “Wow. You must really hate your wife.” He responded, “No, of course not. I love her.” Yeeeeeeeeaaaaahh, riiiiiiiiiiiight.

Divorce. If you are not happy, spare everyone else the unhappiness. Once you become parents, however, both parents DO have an obligation to raise their children as parents. I’ve got male friends whose x-wives won’t let them see their children and they have all but given up on trying. Keep trying. They are your kids. Just because a divorce takes place doesn’t mean that the kids no longer have a father or a mother. The responsibility of raising them – regardless – should be shared.

G, as far as the wife spending money so that the husband can’t afford to marry a second wife: I don’t understand this on either side. I know it happens. It happened to a good friend of mine and when he finally got up some cojones and got divorced, she set fire to their villa and vandalized his BMW, so he wouldn’t have anything left. Pshychobitch! If the guy knows that is what she is doing, why is he still married to her? And hey – here is some radical thinking – why doesn’t SHE have a job and get her own shit? If I were a man (if only), that kind of spending would get real old, real quick.

I’ve got friends who ask for (and receive) diamond watches and cars. What is UP with that? I can’t ask for a shawarma or a box of chocolates without feeling guilty about it. I go out with this particular friend, just to see if her group of men are any different humans: maybe there is a species of gift-giving men. When I met them, they seemed to be normal, intelligent men. Girlfriend has only worked for about 6 months in her entire life. She has an X5 and a Mercedes 350. Her furniture and wide screen TV were paid for. I know that she's pretty much gahaba and all that, but still – how does she do it?

I can’t even find a decent, single guy who wants to go to dinner. What is UP with this country?

Married Men & Other Stuff

Married men think it is okay to invite themselves over to your house - even if they don't know you - because they can't go outside for fear of being seen with you. Married men make up about a gazillion excuses as to why they are the way they are: I'm lonely because my wife doesn't understand me/give me what I need/care about me. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa somebody call a waaaaaaaaaaaambulance.

Then, there is my favorite: "I want to marry you too - muttaa." Great, where is my baby blue Ferrari with the kidskin beige interior for my mahar? I'm like, 'hey - is your wife marrying other guys muttaa right now too? Do you think she's like UNDER a temporary husband right about now? OH, forgive me - she's a woman and NOT ALLOWED. That's not a temporary husband she's under - it is just a fu...buddy. :D

"I'm just staying married for the kids." If I had kids, I would never never not ever teach them that it is OKAY to be unhappy. It isn't. Not for any reason when you can change it. Let's be realistic, unhappy-married-men: You are staying because you enjoy a lifestyle. You enjoy surrounded by a family and your kids, yet you still want a little on the side. You want your cake and you want to eat it too. It doesn't happen that way. Once you are unhappy, it permeates your home. Your kids feel it. They think that it will be okay to have the same kind of relationship once they are old enough to marry.

I just had to bitch about that because several of them are making me ill at the moment.

I'm bored. I'm really ready to get on a plane and get back to the US of Hey for a while. I miss my mommy. I miss not having dust in my room. I miss our swimming pool with all the trees around it and the deer that come by to graze at twilight or at dawn. I miss my nefew and his charming wit. I miss my grumpy dad and going to eat breakfast with him at the Silver Diner. I miss having giggle fits with my sister over a few glasses of wine and CHEAP sushi. I miss my brother-in-law's quiet presence around the house; doing whatever man-things he's got on his schedule. I miss the 2 big dogs and the little scamp dog.

And yes, I miss my country where there is sanctity of married people's lives. I miss knowing that when a man tells you he is single, he probably is - for fear of risking alimony payments in a lengthy divorce proceeding, leading way to the division of his shared ASSets.

I miss PITCHERS of margaritas and nachos (I LOVE that word). Nacho nacho nacho. And salsa. In the pool. Nacho in the pool fi Amreeka. tee hee.

Speaking of nachos - Did you know that I celebrated 05/05/05 by circulating an SMS with a picture of a guy's butt and the words, "Happy khamsa, khamsa, khamsa." Gay pride day???? hmmmm.....

I haven't felt like writing for a while. I haven't been able to put stuff into words. It just isn't coming to me. I hope you will pardon my incessant ramblings.

Catching Up

I haven't been writing much because I have been working at my new job getting the office up and running. It is going to be SOOO pretty. I picked out light colored wood furniture and red fabric partitions and blinds that match the color of the desk. Our conference room overlooks the sea and we have an outdoor terrace for office barbecues (yeah, bud-deh!). I've been running all over Shuwaikh (which I HATE HATE HATE) looking at samples of this that and the other (or as most of the vendors say, "zis, zat, and zee ozer".) Me tired. It will be nice to have a "normal" office routine again.

I've also been working at a customer site, collecting requirements and attending stupid meetings. I finally gave in and did something incredibly smart: I bought a digital recorder, so that I wouldn't actually have to sit there!

Ok, birthday week (yes, week) was a blast. I can't remember when I've laughed so hard – maybe during the occupation when I was in training with SheeshaGirl in DC in the Red Cross and we, as trauma trainees, got continually kicked out of the exams. During the exams, the trainees must hold the victim's head (stabilizing the neck and backbone) until help arrives (by shouting "Somebody call 911!!!" until somebody comes to the aid). SheeshaGirl always left me to "go get help" (she was supposed to BE the HELP – Kuwaitiyah – macu faydah). I kept running over and pretending to be a gay man named Kevin who was an Aquarius and saying, "how may I help you today?" Anyways, long story short: Birthday Week 2005…

I've to say that the lunch at Sakura was absolutely, by far, the most fun. 10 of us got into one of those party rooms with the very-hard-to-get-out-of chair things (do you think that Japanese people have less trouble getting out of them? They must.) MuslimArtist, Bobarino, his girlfriend "Fish" (not because she's smelly or anything, but because her name is the same as a fish), SheeshaGirl and SailorMan, Brazilian and Jeff, CineDude and Naz were all there. It was still light outside, so of course, Bunny was home sleeping (he only ventures outside the batcave at night). Is sushi euphoric or is it just me? The more you eat, the funnier everyone gets (gee, like alcohol - how ironic!).

Anyhoo, leave it to Jeff to start up the gutter talk. I didn't KNOW what a "dirty sanchez" or "tossed salad" was. If only I could go back in time and erase those two GOD-AWFUL images from my mind, I would feel much better (especially because the turd talk started just as they brought the chocolate mousse cake - EEEEEEWWWW).

It is incredibly difficult to make Babarino blush and get grossed out: either feat would be hilarious, but together, there were just no words to describe it. I noticed, however, that he did manage to finish his cake. I couldn't.

I know that I am usually hard to gross out. I pride myself in it. The one time (not at band camp) that I can recall when I was truly disgusted (to the point of having to pull the car over as I was driving from gagging) was when my friend, CT (a nurse), told me a story of a woman who was comatose. She described, in acute detail, the smell of the room and the source of the offending odor. Burn it from my memory!!!

How come everything ends up with potty talk? As my nefew says, "Aunt (DesertGirl), you got potty mouth!" Yep. Guess so.

We went to a party (not a potty) on Thursday night at CineDude's house. I hadn't seen MuslimArtist in a looooooooooooooonnnng time and she looked drop-dead gorgeous in a dress I must possess and high heel (FM) sandals. Everybody was dancing, except for me (not in the mood). The people there were great (with the exception of one weasely dude from the U ASS Embassy). Good crowd PLUS M&M's at the door. I gave Bunny the green ones. He didn't get it. I had to explain. I still didn't get "any". Not even a birthday sympathy bop. (Sadness, heavy sigh.)

For the actual birthday day, Bunny and I went to the Hilton for dinner at the Blue Elephant (I call it the "Blue Feel"). I ate like a horse and he surprised me with a strawberry cheesecake which I haven't finished yet (because as soon as I do – I am on a diet. Which means that I will keep a piece in the freezer for about a year). It was a lovely evening (I still didn't get "any" – sadness, heavy sigh).

My mother called to read me my birthday horoscope: I'm supposed to get married in August (any handsome men out there wish to assist?). My mom thinks that's great because I will be in the States in August, so they can save money on the plane fare. She thinks of everything. I just adore her.

DUDE, WHERE'S MY PRINCE????

The KGB:

There was yet ANOTHER meeting held at the KGB to tell people that they could NOT be our friends anymore. Well hel-loooooo dumbasses, you can't do that to people. They are so bad. INTEGRITY – do you GET IT? It think it is funny that they have placed so much importance on me and several others who left there under similar circumstances. I must be a very influential person, don't you think?

My philosophy is this: Happy employees are productive employees. Treat people well and they will treat you well. Companies don't make friends by screwing people over.

There was a quote by someone who was president (or CEO or Chairman) of a computer software company in the Mid-West US. He said, "At 5:00 every evening, I watch as 95% of my company's assets drive out the front gate." That's just it – the company IS the people they employ. It isn't about material assets, it is about the people who work with them.

Ok, on to another gross subject… Enough serious talk.

I changed the colors in my apartment to "summer" from "winter" (white and green from burgundy). That is why my dog got sick and puked on literally everything white I have: my new white silk duvet; my white sofa, my white carpet. Yak! Yak! Yak! The 3 vets who looked at her this morning thought that was hilarious. Thankfully, DesertDog was kind enough to actually go outside before the explosive diarrhea set in.

This is my world and how pathetic it is.

DesertDawg is ok now (another trip down to IVH). She had a fever and was suffering from dehydration. It was probably caused when I changed her normal dog food (DAMN YOU SULTAN CENTER for not stocking the regular!!!!) in combination with the affects of the booster vaccinations that she had 3 days ago.

I am now looking forward to another fun weekend (please, please, please) free of dog yak/poop and hopefully with a single, tall, dark, handsome man present. Maybe my future husband (hurry up, damn it – we only have a few months!!!).

Should I look for my dress this weekend?
Book a hall?
Hire a wedding planner?
Call the florist?

Shop for rings at Tiffany?

I Can't Stop Playing With It

My new computer. Bunny bought me a new computer for my birthday. You would think that I would have time for stuff like blogging, but I'm actually creating libraries of my favorite music and downloading stuff and (get this) doing work for my new job.

Bunny to the rescue again. What a guy. Now, I have a new Bunny-draw: "Can you come over and help me with (this application or that one). He's really good about coming over when I need him (I guess it is the knight in shining armor thing), so I try to create new home projects to keep him coming back. How pathetic is THAT? Some girls use sex to lure in their mates - I use shelves and computer programs. How did my life come to this?

What the HELL is going on in this country with all the construction? When will it stop? There is a PIT down the street from my building and there are dumptrucks in and out all day and night. I want to throw eggs at all of them, but they are construction trucks and I am quite sure that eggs will have no affect on them at all (not like with the shiny cars that sit outside honking). I have perfected my egging to an artform. I can aim, egg, and run at just the precise timing required. Honkers of all types get on my damn nerves. What am I going to do about the TRUCKS???? Why at night? It is 12 am now and the damn trucks are going up and down my street. Again, how did my life come to this?

And really - how pathetic is all of this?

I sent my lawyers some flowers. I thought the guy was going to cry. Apparently, all they get for a job well done is a handshake. Not in my world -- flowers. I am a firm believer in flowers. One time (not at band camp), I sent a woman (not lady) in my office some flowers. Do you know what she had the NERVE to say? "You should have just given me the money. Why did you waste it on flowers?" I don't know if I actually SAID out loud, "Why did I waste it on YOU?" Ok, do something nice and throw it in the ocean.

I stopped allowing anonymous posts on here because of the WACKOS who sent me some comments of a sexual and insulting nature. Do people have nothing better to do with their time?
Masturbation. I mean, it puts you in a better mood and you're not actually pissing anyone else off (unless you do it in public or something).

The Day When A Lot of Paths Crossed

Have you ever experienced weird times when you come into contact with people by coincidence - or maybe your paths cross with people that you haven't heard from in as long time? It seems that it only happens during a short period of time. Like yesterday.

I started the day (at around 2:00) by visiting my friend, Fatima, and her family for lunch. I hadn't been to their house in probably 8 months. Their immediate family (brothers, sisters, husbands, wives, kids) has grown to 92 (the most recent, 10 days ago). They are always extremely kind and welcoming and treat me like a member of the family. Their mom used to draw water from a well as a girl (here in Kuwait) if that gives you any indication of her age. She always cooks for everyone.

Going to their house is a circus (or similar to an Italian dinner party). Everybody is shouting over each other to be heard; kids are running around screaming; food is being brought in and cleared out by people. It is madness. I love going there. No matter how much time passes, it is as if no time has passed (except there are more kids running around). We always manage to catch up where we left off.

The first time they invited me was 1993 when I first visited Kuwait. At that time, they were trying to hook me up with one of the brothers. Unfortunately, it didn't work for us. He's now married to a really nice American girl and they've got 2 kids. Anyhoo, sometimes when I visit for lunch, I wonder how I could ever fit into family life (as in with kids and stuff). That lifestyle is so foreign to me. You know - school, routine, lots of people. I don't know that I could ever do it. I like to visit that lifestyle every now and then, but then I go home.

Being off 3rd Ring Road, I decided to go to Ikea to buy More Crap I Really Don't Need. I was watching a lovely exchange between an American lady and her about-5-year-old son. He looked up at her and said, "I love you, mommy," and she responded with an "I love you too." It reminded me of my sister and her son. It was such a sweet, endearing moment that I probably wouldn't have thought twice about otherwise, but I was still reflecting on the family thing. It was already a great day, and watching the pretty lady and her son just made me smile (making passers-by wonder why I was walking around alone with a shopping cart with a stupid grin on my face). As I got up to the check-out counter, the same woman and her son were in front of me. She turned and said my name and it was STINNI!!!!! I have been talking to her on the phone and exchanging e-mails with her for years (I'm a blogger because I stumbled across hers). It was so nice to finally meet her (and Stinni, you DEFINITELY DON'T need botox, girl! You look great!) I wanted to run over and hug her, but I'm never sure to what degree of touchy-feely other people are and I didn't want to weird her out on our first meeting.

After Ikea, I had about 2.5 nanoseconds to take a shower before Bunny came to pick me up to go to SheeshaGirl's house for a dinner party. Unfortunately, we showed up late because I forgot that Bunny's car window was broken and put it down by accident. We had to go to a mechanic to put it back up. Ooops. (Why doesn't he just FIX it???)

I don't know what I really expected SheeshaGirl's house to be like, but I was blown away. It is full of antiques and books from her parents' lifetimes of travels around the world. It was gorgeous and I felt so at home there. Her 2 big retrievers made it feel even more like home. The food was also awesome and I'm sorry, but I don't believe that SheeshaGirl did it all herself. There were about 12 of us and after dinner and desert, we sat around and basically had a SheeshaGirl/SailorMan roast. I felt really bad for them at some points. Jeff was going after them like he was a stand-up comedian. I don't think he came up for air once (or will ever be invited back there!) Several times, Bunny went to their rescue and led them out for smoke breaks. I can't remember the last time I've laughed so hard - almost into an athesma attack.

Bunny and Naz were recruited (as they are GEEKS) to help fix SheeshaGirl's home PC ("It's hosed."), so they stayed behind.

5 of us piled into Brazilian's 4-wheel-drive-uphill-in-reverse Corolla to go to a house party in Fintas. The place was really cool - it kind of reminded me of a trendy club in DC (that I can't remember the name of right now); very nice decor. As soon as I walked in, someone shouted my name. It turned out to be a guy I adore who still works at the KGB. He introduced me to his friends and cousins. About an hour later, another cousin walked in and recognized me from San Diego in 1992 (it used to be my favorite Sprintime vacation spot). I couldn't believe that he recognized me after all this time (I'm WAY cuter now! LOL), but my philosophy is this: You always remember the crazy people (call 484-3900 to look up YOUR old friends!). It was so nice to meet up with old friends.

We started to make our way to the gate at around 3, by way of the saj stand outside next to the pool. As Jeff said, "I crave these things; it is what keeps me coming back here." (Yeah, sandwiches, company, "refreshments", and dancing too!). I stopped to play with their 2-month old German Shepherd puppy and we headed home.

DesertDawg is the jealous type and knew right away that I had been with another dog. She gave me The Look and kind of turned her nose up at me. I had to spend extra time playing with her and her new stuffed monkey (which I am thinking of naming "Lulu" just for shyts and giggles!). (Thankfully, after "cheating" with another dog, I didn't receive any doggy gifts in the morning.)

I fell into a happy slumber just as the sun was coming up. It was a really wonderful, happy day.

I could get used to this

Our new office isn't ready yet, so I haven't had to rush out of the door at the crack of dawn to get anyplace. It is kindof nice, but at the same time, I feel so weird about not having somewhere that I must be every day. I'm working on several different projects for the new company, so it isn't like I'm not doing something, but it isn't like 'real' work either. I just have a lot of meetings outside the an office, followed by lots of documentation on the computer.

For example today - Sheeshagirl and her new man, SailorMan, invited me to the SAS to go swimming. I managed to fit in 3 meetings with office furniture vendors at the hotel - while I was resting poolside. That's life, baybee. Granted, 2 of the vendors were ab-so-lute idiots and pissed me off to no end, I managed to get back to the pool and relax between idiots.

How can companies operate without e-mail, business cards, or a website? I don't understand that. My new boss calls them "opportunities". Yeah. One of the vendors (the dumbest of the dumb), couldn't figure out their own e-mail address (on hotmail because they are too stupid to have their own domain name) and I actually had to create another e-mail account FOR them, so I could send them our new office layout. I SMS'ed the girl the site (www.gmail.com), the username, and the password. Her manager called me to say that they couldn't open the site. I asked him to keep me on the phone while he ran through it. His response was, "I can't open it from hotmail." ummmm.... chelllooooooo

When we finally met, the manager kept talking OVER me and interrupting me, so I finally said, "Look, I've seen what you like. I want to show you what I like. (he interrupted me) And if you don't stop interrupting me and talking over me, I want you to know that you are REALLY pissing me off!"

The other one, mentioned to me 4 times how nice it was to be sitting next to a beautiful lady, so that all the people could see him. Then, he mentioned that he was here alone from Egypt and single, so anytime I wanted to meet him - day or night, he was available. He then pointed out the window and said, "You see, I have a very nice car. A Lumina. I can take you anytime to our showroom." To SHOW me WHAT?????

I have 2 more meetings with idiots. I will absolutely not never no ever buy a black or brown leather sofa. That seems to be the haute couture of Kuwaiti office furnishings. Funk dat. Aint happenin in my world.

Vodka. Today is a vodka day. I wish I had some Absolute Citron . Yummmmm. I wish I had some out at the pool at the SAS. Which brings me to another point - the SAS club. Perhaps weekends are better, but today seemed to be teenaged-girl and big-fat-white-businessmen day poolside at the SAS. The men looked like baluga whales and the beeny bopper girls were - well, just that. Maybe it is a hangout for peodophiles, I don't know. I wasn't liking the current.

Tomorrow I'm supposed to be receiving my settlement from the KGB. Short, sweet, and simple. Funny thing about when you decide to have a lawyer intervene on your behalf - all your former colleague "friends" suddenly get quiet and treat you like you have a disease. I have had several very strong signs from God lately that I have done the right thing. 2 days ago, a woman walked up to me and said, "Don't you work at (the KGB)?" I said, 'not anymore'. She said, "I hated that place. I worked there for only amonth and quit. It is awful there." Yeah. Just like that.

I'm pretty content, although a little weirded out. I still can't seem to get my groove back.

14 More Days till My Birthday

I had an opportunity to hang out with Bunny yesterday. It seems like he is able to read my mind these days. I guess you know your friends when you need them and he always seems to know exactly what I need. We sat around and watched "Cheech and Chong's Up in Smoke", which I haven't seen in like 20 years (I was 9). He brought me some ice cream also, so Desert Dawg and I chowed down on that.

Future-husband-and-father-of-my-children also called out of the blue last night. He apologized (he misses me - yeah) and we will probably get together for coffee sometime. I had met his brother and his brother told FH&FOMC that he liked me and that he was stupid for not calling me right away. His brother told him, "You don't even know how to treat a beautiful woman." Damn - I shoulda asked for his BROTHER's number!

I haven't seen much of Incredible Disappearing Muslim Artist lately. She's busy doing her thing; I'm busy doing mine. Soon, we must get sushi.

Ah Spring

Yesterday, I drove up to Abdali with my friend and her husband to get a first glimse at their new babies: 2, 10-week-old dachsund puppies. They looked like rats, but even though - they were still cute. She has to wait for another month until they are old enough to wean. The weather was beautiful and all the animals were out and it was a great day, followed by dinner and a movie at my place with lots of friends.

SheeshaGirl has a new man - hopefully, this is the last of the "new man" series for a while. She could invent her own Kuwaiti version of "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days". Actually, with her - it is more like 5-7 days. She does ALL the wrong stuff - calling constantly, choosing baby names, determining a date for the wedding, having him meet her parents. I will stop short of "naming his penis" because that is JUST TMI. Anyhow, we met her new man (I'll get to the "we" part) on Tuesday. Since then, they seem to be attached at the hip and for once - it seems to be mutual. He is actually diggin her strategic man intitiatives (all the stuff a girl shouldn't ever do). I think he likes the attention. That's great. Maybe she has met her match.

We both met the guy in about the same timeframe. SheeshaGirl calls me up and said, "This very handsome guy came up to me at (one of our usual hangouts) and said that he had seen me around before and he would like to get to know me better." I said, 'strange - the same thing happened to me about 2 weeks ago and I never called the guy. Is his name (Flan)?' It was, indeed, the same guy.

Now, my philosophy is this - if the guy is lonely and approaching women because he doesn't have someone, then perhaps he needs someone in his life. SheeshaGirl was looking for someone to be in her life at the same time. Maybe it was just the right timing. I pushed her to go out with him - even though she wasn't sure. He turned out to be a wonderful guy. I really really like him and feel very comfortable around him. Maybe things will work out for the lonely hearts after all. I hope so.

I've found a new job. I'm happy. They have the one motivating factor that I am looking for: INTEGRITY. I have always said that either someone KNOWS integrity and uses the word as a basis for their actions, or they don't and never will understand its importance. In 2 short weeks, I have put the KGB behind me and am moving on. Things are definately looking up and I think I will be much happier. The new people are listening to what I have to say and have found value in it. I haven't felt valued at work in a long time - on either continent.

Sometimes you meet people who make you question your own values and turn your world upside down - making you see things from a different angle and perspective. It happened to me in December through a course that I took. My boss at the KGB was scheduled to take the course, but then backed out at the last minute and asked me to attend. It was a real eye opening experience. Everything happens for a reason.

PAWS

Diego is still at PAWS and looking for a good home.

PAWS is the animal rescue league in Kuwait. They don't have a building or kennels (after the guy at IVH took over their project to make a profit by renting out kennels that should have gone to rescued animals). PAWS is looking for donations in the form of:

• Money
• Food
• Kennels - space to put animals
• Foster care for dogs & cats

Right now, the 2 ladies, Margaret and Lynette are keeping animals in their homes (which, you can imagine, would drive one nuts after a while).

Anyone who can help in ANY way - call 944-0089. Website: http://paws-kuwait.org/

Plastic Surgery

If you could have plastic surgery, what would be 3 (or less) things that you would change?

I was having this discussion with a friend the other night. He's American. We had previously discussed my amazement at that party a while back as to the number of boob jobs there have been "popping up" all over Kuwait. Since then, he says he has noticed many. I told him that I would probably choose to have my breast size reduced and lifted. His response, "Oh yeah, I can hear you telling the doctor, 'Hey, can you lift these about 8 years?'' Ok, pig. But yeah, basically.

I wouldn't do botox 'cause (unlike most of my friends), I hate tanning. I would prefer to go to a salon and dish out 25 kd (not now - before) to get tan-in-a-can. It is like getting a massage, only with color. Very relaxing.

I'd also probably get my overbite straightened. I don't have a big overbite, but one of those really cute Goldie Hawn overbites (that has driven me crazy my entire life). Now, it is just downright annoying.

I haven't heard back from the lawyer men. I figured I would give it some time and let them do their thang.

I took Desert Dawg out for a nice walk in the sunshine today after her bath. She looks like a little white angel in the sun and was very happy to be out. We watched the ferry come in from Failaka - full of happy people singing songs as it rounded the corner into the breakers. I guess it is a new-age boom.

I haven't called ShortMan back yet. I guess I should. Ok, I will - just to say that we are friends. I sent him some SMSs. Does that count?

Can you tell that I'm feeling better?

SheeshaGirl invited me to the last disco in the desert at her friends'camp tonight. I don't think I'm going to go. Everybody there is still in diapers. SheeshaGirl is in her 30's and she's still running around with 20-24 year olds. Sorry, I just can't be anybody's mommy (MILF or whatever). Ew.

This is the last weekend for all the camps in the desert - as per the municipality law. I love the discos in the desert. I love winter here. Why, oh why can't summer be cooler? Then, they might leave the discos up year-round for our fun and enjoyment.

Sadly, I know very few people with chalets. I will have to try harder to make friends with chalets. Maybe hitch-hike in B'naider or something. Maybe I will deflate one of my tires and stand by the road, looking helpless. That reminds me to go get my spare tire fixed.

Distractions

What I want to know is this: Why is it that every short man on every continent in the entire world wants ME? I mean, if the guy is ugly and short, he is twice as likely to seek me out. It happens in nightclubs. It happens on the street. It happens through friends. I am THE Short and Ugly Magnet.

Do you know what "my type" is? Single, 6'4" with a deep voice, sincere laugh, and great teeth. My Type is NEVER what I get.

I am trying to emerge from my funk in various ways. Last night, I decided to do something I am familiar with: Recreational Dating. I went out with a guy from an online service. Yes, ladies and gentlemen; he was short (top of his head at about ear-level to me) AND he was married (although reasonably attractive). Why is it that they always somehow forget to mention on their online profiles that they are married? "It's okay, though, because I want to feel completely free with you." Um... hellooooooooo.... why you not completely free with Mrs. Short Man?

This was almost as bad as the Barbecue Boy saga.

We had a great dinner, however, and he really did try to make me happy (aka pave the way to Getting in My Pants). He took me to Al Boom. I hadn't been there for a long time. Isn't it funny how you always run into old friends and business associates when you are out with someone short and ugly (or just short in this case)? Yes, I saw several rather high-ranking dignitaries at the next table. (Oh God, maybe they didn't recognize me.) Short Man says, "I've seen their pictures in the paper." Well yuh - no duuuuh. Luckily, there was not a photographer in sight.

Which leads me to another topic: Why is it that when Kuwaiti dignitaries are hosting delegations, they don't have a clue about protocol? Last night, the lowest-ranking-Kuwaiti at the table was sending SMS's - paying no attention to the guests. Highest-ranking-Kuwaiti was speaking to 4 other guys in Arabic and laughing it up while the delegation-dudes sat there (sans translator), looking incredibly bored. You would think that by now, someone might have enlisted the use of a protocol attache - maybe someone who knew what the hell he/she was doing! I noticed that they brought 2 very pretty Kuwaiti women with them and one sounded very well educated. Kudos on that point. Several years ago, I hardly ever saw women attending functions with visiting delegations

Do you know what Al-Boom restaurant does now? They give you a 6" nail as a gift as you are leaving. What the phuck is that? A flower would have been nice. They say it is an authentic nail used to make the boom. What I want to know is this: what happens if you are a visiting delegation member (without diplomatic immunity) and you forget to take the 6" nail out of your pocket before returning to your home country? I mean, the restaurant HAS to know that most of the people going there are foreigners. How could you explain that even being in your check-in luggage. "Oh yes, Mr. INS Officer from Homeland Security, this is an authentic boom bolt. I got it after I had dinner in Kuwait...." Things that make you go 'hmmmmmm'.

This goes out to Not_without_my_heels for her comment on the last post about still waiting for the 100 doors to open: One thing I've learned (through a LOT of trial and error) is this: NO ONE is going to market you better than you. You have to pound the pavement, set schedules and goals for yourself, and then go after them. I was out of work once for 8 months here in Kuwait. The only way I made it through was by doing freelance work for many different companies. I networked with people I might not have otherwise. I picked up the Kuwait Pocket Guide and Kuwait Top 100 Lists and sent my resume EVERYWHERE in Kuwait (they list both fax and e-mail addresses for companies). Send, send, and when you are really tired of sending, send some more. Then, try to schedule interviews as often as possible. I tried to schedule 2 per day - even if they were with loser companies (you never know who might be able to refer you to someone else). Find a selling point about yourself that is unique. Be confident. Be friendly. Doors will open. You go, girl.

Some doors have opened for me in the past 2 weeks. I think I will join another company on April Fools' Day (April 1). It is also my Aunt Virginia's birthday (God rest her soul). I always feel that she is looking out for me.

And Sometimes God Sends You Lawyers Who are Also Angels

So I went to see a VERY good lawyer friend who likes to see his name and picture in the paper. I know him because I was invited to his party place once by a hoochie friend. We had drinks there that night - and then several other nights. The guy is totally amiable, so after several years of not being in touch with him at all, I had the opportunity to use his services this week.

If anyone out there needs an outstanding group of lawyers with contract and labor experience, write to me (amerab@gmail.com) and I'll give you his contact details. They are extremely professional (by Western standards) and speak English well.

It sucks that it has come to that, but I'm tired of people thinking that I am a stupid ajnabeeya and that I don't have any rights. Anyone who picks up a Kuwait Labor Law book (available at Muthanna) will know that you do have rights. The KGB wanted me to sign an 10 page agreement - basically giving them the right to my life and giving me no rights whatsoever, so I took it to LawyerMan et al. I use the term, "bullshcit" all the time, but it carries SO much more weight when a lawyer says it during a meeting.

Call me a pushy, agressive American if you will, but hey - when push comes to shove, we try to find out what our rights are and then stick by them. I love LawyerMan. I simply do. I feel so much better after talking to him last night. Now, I don't have to converse with the KGB. Yippee.

I haven't had the time to socialize. I am going to try to rectify that this weekend. I did have lunch with MuslimArtist and TataBotata yesterday (sorry, but Starbucks DOESN'T COUNT as lunch, MA!!!!) outside in the sunshine. My stomach was screaming, "sushi''! That's ok. I hadn't seen my pal in a while, so it was nice hanging with her. Tata has some great ideas and he is kind of a whirlwind of creativity, so it is always nice to spend a little time with him.

Bunny has been incredibly supportive lately. He is my pillar of strength - ready to kick the world's ass if they do me wrong. I love that. Sometimes, his strength and fortitude amazes me at times when I don't think that he's noticing how I feel about a particular thing. He just knows and he appears (and then disappears, unfortunately). Like Lois Lane to Superman, I guess a girl just can't have it all. LOL

This past week, I have been to visit old friends who I haven't seen in a while and had chance meetings with others - all VERY positive meetings. When one door closes, a hundred more open.