Desert Moon

It's a full moon.  The men are frisky and the sheep are scared.  HA!

I went out last night to have coffee and the moon was baGORGEOUS.  

I met a man on my way to work this morning.  It was the cutest, cutest thing.  I loved it.  Must be the moon.  He was driving behind me, blowing me kisses.  How could he even SEE me?   Awesomely funny.  I think I found my babydaddy.  [Riiiight.  With my luck, dude will want me to have sex with a farm animal (do NOT go there, JM!!!) or his father or something equally as repugnant.]

Stella, I DO feel like Samantha on Sex and The City.  ME NO LIKE.  (I still want to see the YouTube clip of Samantha deciding she is really not a lesbian.)  HappyLesbianville has now become the butt of my friends' jokes on me.  Go ahead, bitches, laugh your assess off.  Payback is a serious bitch and I have my own float in the Bitch Parade.

Oh anyhooser, isn't the moon beautiful?

In a Frut

I'm in a funk and in a rut at the same time; a "frut".  This too shall pass, but it is kind of sucky feeling so blah.  I guess it has a lot to do with the previous post. I'm also disenchanted with several other things going on in my life.  Bygones.

I am definitely a hetero girl.  Thank you for the clarification, Bu Fahad and Bu Nawaf. Not that I doubted myself, but it was good to get it from a male perspective.

I've been back and forth to the desert a few times to see Definance.  He's such a good man.  We were there the other night when it rained really hard.  I love the rain in the desert.  I really used to hate rain in the States and I just love it here.  I don't care if it is muddy rain - I love it. 

So, only 15 more days until I'm back on a plane again.  I can't believe that this year has gone so fast.  What a year too. It has been so busy.

I got my family some really cool Christmas gifts (what did we do before the internet?  Je ne sais pas.)  Sure doesn't feel very Christmassy around here, does it?

Happy Times Three

I have a fascinating life.  I really do.

As you know, I have been debating the Happy factor and should I/shouldn't I pursue a relationshit with him;  debating basically because I crave attention and he's just not an attention-giving guy.  This, after my many many attempts to try to explain (to no avail) of my neeeeds.  I don't think it should be a big deal; if a guy likes you (especially an A-rab guy), he is going to shower you with attention, affection, and maybe even a Ferrari (HA!!!  just wishful thinking, but who knows - and Hot Wheels don't count).

Happy, as witnessed by my friends, is marriage material (not that I even believe in it anymore and when you get to the end of this post, you'll have yet another reason why):  Eligible, good family, good job, handsome (although not overly).... yada.  He knows me.  He knows my friends.  His friends know me.  He's funny, he's smart, he's well-traveled.  Loves my dog.  Takes care of his elderly parents.  Trainable?

Pero, I have felt an undercurrent. That rumbling that tells you something is wrong, but you just can't put your finger on it.

When I knew Happy first revealed his interest in me (as more than a friend), he returned from a trip and brought perfume for both me and The Romanian; which I thought it was really sweet because she's my best friend and he knows her.  If you make a good impression on the girl's best friend then you're usually in.  So when I asked him if he wanted to come with me to the States for Christmas to see my family, he offered to pay for The Romanian's trip.  When we talked about going to Phuket in February, he asked if she'd like to go.  And when we went on our first date together, he invited her.  (.... I'm still not getting it because I'm blonde and challenged....  I think it's sweet.)

He had some problems and I didn't see him for 2 weeks (although he lives a few blocks from me and could drop in to say "heyyyybaby" anytime).

This weekend, he showed up when I had some friends over.  There was some dancing going on.  My friend, LaSenza was dancing.  It was a lot of fun.  Good times.  Happy was the last to leave and I thought he was going to be happy to see me. (ha ha, get it?)

I decided that we could finally have the little talk that he had been avoiding for all this time.  He first showed his interest in me and then cooled his jets substantially.  Je didn't like it.  I asked him the chick question, "Are we just friends, or what?" (Cause I have other things to do, honestly.  Don't waste my time.  I get cranky.  Not good.)

Here...It.... Comes.  (Are you sitting down?  Are you prepared??)

"I haven't been with another woman in 2 years.  But, I have an obsession.  I like to watch lesbians."  In movies?  "No."  Oh.  Ok (trying not to be judgmental because a lot of people have a lot of "interests"...).    He gives me a totally sexy look and says, "I need you to be with another woman."  (oh no he di' in't!!!.)

Friend to lesbian in .06 seconds...  I didn't even get flowers first. Not dinner.  Not a frick'in shawarma.  Nothing.  Just laid it all out there.

Me:  "Please please, don't say anything about any of my friends....off limits."  (Hoping, but at the same time, knowing what is about to come next.) Then it hits me:  The Romanian.  She's Choice #1.  Eeek.  Ok, girlfriend is HOT, but that is just NOT my flavor.  [If I wanted to be a lesbian, I would find a really hot chick and stick (or no stick) with her.  Why would I need a man to be part of the equation?  But alas.... again, not the way I go.]

Him:  "That girl, LaSenza, has really big (DG - no, I'm not going to say it...).  Think about it. Be prepared soon...."

La la la, ya habibi.  La. And la la la some more.  La.  La.

WHAT THE PHUCK IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE?????

Baaaah byyyyyye!

I have had funny reactions from my friends.  First call was to The Romanian who was very practical about it (although we both said that if we WERE ever to become lesbians, we would be each others' first choices).  Her approach was, "I'm so sorry, but you have to get rid of him.  You will never be alone with him because even if he is alone with you, he will be thinking about lesbians."  "He will never be happy.  He will never have a family or understand true love from or for a woman.  Just being you will never be enough for him."  
She's my best psychiatrist.  Thanks girlfriend (no homo).

Then, bien sur, I had to call LaSenza.  Her first reaction?  "Oh my God, it is my push-up bra!"  and added, "... but it's not even his birthday or a special occasion!  You don't just spring that on a girl.  Maybe after you've been together for years and your sex life has become boring, but this is just the beginning of your relationship!"  LOL.  "He'll never find what he's looking for because it comes in a packaged set."

Stealth was like, "... but you're not a lesbian...."  Yeah?  No duuh.  

Am I crushed?  Noooo.  I was in love with the idea of who I thought he was for like a week (call it obsession) like 2 weeks after we got together.  Then reality hit when he didn't bother picking up the phone or returning messages.  RUDE!  I am crushed, however, because I just spent 60KD on lingerie that is going to go to waste in my closet and it's frick'in gorgeous.  That sucks.  How do I feel:  Ick factor.  Seriously:  Isn't it bad enough that you can't find a decent man and then add insult to injury by having one who wants you, but only with another girl?

This is why I don't date rich guys.  There's nothing left to do, to see, to experience.  So they turn to perversions.  I'm not saying all of them, but the ones I have met - yup.  Let me just say it again:  I AM NOT THE ENTERTAINMENT.

Oh - and I would like to clarify just for the record:  He has known me for more than 10 years.  He has heard all my guy-stories.  He knows what I want in a relationshit because my friend Lawyer Dude has talked to me about it in length.  Nothing was ever mentioned about lingerie-clad girl pillow fights, girl-girl action:  nooooo.  Nothing.  What would make Happy SAY something like that? 

Do I have that face that says, "You can say anything to her and get away with it."??  Why do people tell me this stuff?

Ooooooo saaaaaaa, Desert Girl.  Go to your happy place (without Happy).  Shet - he's kinda ruined that word for me for a while....

By the by, in my perfect world, my ideal love triangle would be me, George Clooney, and his long-lost twin. (NOT me, a not-so-hot out-of-shape dude and another girl.)  But that's just me and I try to keep that kind of fantasizing on the down-low.

 - This has been a Desert Girl exclusive -

Exclusively on Desert Girl

This is a Desert Girl exclusive....

So is everything I write, right?   Some bloggers have taken to adding taglines like these.  I find it highly amusing.  So, I'm thinking of adding my own tagline on everything I write.  What are your thoughts?  Yes, that's right, I'm totally narcissistic and into marketing/branding myself.  Sometimes I even use a hot poker. ;)  Ha ha.

I really don't have too terribly much to write about today (so of course, I chose today to write about nothing).

I went to the desert last night with The Romanian to visit one of my oldest and dearest friends.  I'm going to call him "Defiance" because that's where he went to school in Ohio and spent the best years of his life (so he says - I'm not makin it up).  I met him  when I was engaged (to fiance number 3, I believe.  I'm like Barbie - always engaged, never married.  By CHOICE.) Defiance was the best friend of my fiance. (And then.... much, much later, there was one very romantic night spent at Evan's Farm in Mclean in front of their fireplace with a few bottles of red wine.... sigh.  He was wearing Creed....mmmmm)  He's one of those friends who I might not see for a day or for a decade; and we always catch right back up where we left off.  My friend, Kaz, and I are like that too.  These are life-long friendships.  So anyhoo, Defiance always has a brick fireplace in his camp (hey... maybe that is related to that Evan's Farm night.  Let me think it was!)   It's so cozy.  (This is kind of a crappy picture because  I had to edit out The Romanian, but it shows the fireplace).  He's an old-school Kuwaiti:  "our people".  Totally generous and hospitable.  I adore him. We had some grilled steaks and sat around and talked.  It was just the kind of evening that I needed.  The R and I both went home happy and thanking God that there are still some of "our people" left in the world.

If I'm not out in the desert every once in a while, I feel like a fish out of water (or should I say 'dhub out of sand'?).  I just feel content and grounded again - and I haven't been feeling very grounded lately.  I don't know what it is.  Do you ever go through those times?  Sometimes I just need to call my mom to feel better, but sometimes (like now) even that isn't doing it for me.  I'm just not feeling like myself (like on one of those Snickers commercials where the guy turns into an old lady until somebody hands him a candy bar).  Only, I haven't found my Snickers yet.  I'm going back to the States for Christmas, but even when I was there last time, I didn't feel grounded.  Maybe my stars are out of alignment.

It has been almost 2 weeks since I've seen Happy (since the night of the fireworks).  We talk on the phone. We SMS.  He lives 5 minutes from my house (no joke) and can't make the time to see me.  (Yes Expat, perhapsee he is just not that into me. I know...I've read the book.  I have a collection of self-help books that I rarely read.)   I give him an "out" because both of his parents are really sick and he's the only one taking care of them, and the house, and has a job where he has to travel a long distance every day - and it is very stressful.  It doesn't sound good for his parents, so I can imagine the guy is under a lot of stress. I understand Happy's need to spend as much time with his parents as he can; especially since he's the only one at home looking after them.   If I'm not a priority, however, regardless of the situtation, I can't allow him to be mine either.  It is what it is.

The weather is cooler now and all the male creatures have come out of hibernation, but I'm so out of sorts that I don't even want to muster the energy to call anyone.  I'm totally blah and unimpressed these days.  zzzzzz snoozefest. 

Plus, people in general are starting to piss me off.  I can't tell you how much I have done to help people lately and some of them (and if you are reading this - you totally know who you are.  Not you, Norway.) don't even bother to reply or thank me.  Do I NOT have a note on here regarding the sending of pink roses after I have done something to assist?  I should be charging a consulting fee.  Send flowers!  www.q8flowers.com, www.965flowers.com.  I'm nice, but I'm not stupid. 

On the flip side, Nathan, you were totally awesome and I appreciated your very kind offer.  Everybody go check out 511tactical.com!  Would you buy their gear if they opened a shop here?  Let me know.

Oh and by the by, I have elevated sugar levels (diabetes just a little) and I do not need candy or sweets, so flowers are just perfect.  Why do people always bring me chocolates?  Have they not met my ass?  Hey, (this is my attention deficit disorder kicking in again....), did you know that the Cheesecake Factory offers a cake made with Splenda?  Who woulda thought?

And on that note:  PUSHY PEOPLE WHO WANT ME TO PUBLISH THEIR ADS.... I don't HAVE to do anything.  My blog.  My rules.  I only review stuff I like (unlike some others who call around and beg for coupons, vouchers, etc.).  Don't ASSume that I'm going to run whatever you want me to; and especially when I get a demand e-mail rather than something that is kind. 

OOOOhhhhSaaaaaa, Desert Girl.  Calm.  Serenity.  Peace.  Center yourself.   (Ok Indian shaman spiritual guide inside my head.  I will try.)

What I need is a trip somewhere with a guy who totally adores me and showers me with attention (and pink roses) and affection because, after all, I am an attention whore.  (No stuuuupid, not a whore, but an ATTENTION whore.)  I crave attention.  I need affection.  If I'm not getting either, I get cranky (like now). 

(Wish I could have gone to Nepal, but the timing was bad.  Phuket in February?)

And hope is a powerful ting...

By the by, maybe you readers (if you are still reading after the tyrade above) can help me:  I was out with V this weekend at Marina Crescent at Caribou and sat next to a biker dude wearing all Harley gear.  I believe he had a red bike.  He was a big guy and even though his friends were speaking to him in Arabic, he answered (like me) in English.  I think he's Kuwaiti because he said something about his dad building some building downtown.  (Who can tell who is Kuwaiti these days?  There are even Kuwaitis with blue eyes!  OMG).  Anyhoo, I liked the guy.  We had a nice conversation and he had such a nice smile.  He asked us to join him, but we didn't.   He has a tatoo in script down his left arm.  I know I've seen him before, but I just can't figure out where.  He had a magazine in his hand (black with silver lettering - don't know which one that would be) and said that there was a photo of his bike in it.  Does anyone know mystery dude?

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving.  I'm thankful for a whole bunch of stuff (right now, it's Peet's eggnog flavored coffee that I brought from the States and that is keeping me awake beause I got home at 2 am).  I'm going to be with some military folk tomorrow; and then having a pot-luck T-day dinner at home on Friday.  My cleaner dude is out of the country, unfortunately.  (I love this country and the ability to hire help for a party.)  I wish I could hire him full-time to work in my house.  ....He's the best thing since Camaro re-did their body style.

I am STILL looking for a Camaro!!!  I want a 2010-11 SS, V8; black with manual transmission.  Like my daddy used to say, "Christmas is coming, honey." (and then it was going and I still didn't get it...)  That car is like a sexy black panther (and every good witch should have a black cat).  (I said WITCH, stuuuupid, not B.)

I miss my dad (God rest his soul).  Even after all this time, I still worry about what I should get him for Christmas or reach out for the phone to call him. 

I have almost completed all my Christmas shopping.  Woo hoo!  What the Hell did we do before the Internet?  I don't know. 

I got myself Invisilign braces for Christmas.  I priced them here in Kuwait - ooooh noooo.  It was 1/3 of the price in the States.  I guess I have watched one too many episode of "10 Years Younger" because lady always said that one of the most revealing aging attributes is bad teeth.  Not gonna happen to me. I've done all the prep work and now I'm getting the braces.  It is all part of my maintenance schedule:  Straight teeth, perky boobs, and maybe an eye lift.  This girl is not going down without a fight.  I don't need a Brazilian butt lift, however, because as it is, my butt can already be used as a flotation device incase of an over-water emergency.  It is a proven fact.  Unfortunately, no one wants to pay 350KD to have dinner with me.... yet.... ok ever....

OMG how this post has digressed!!

Happy Thanksgiving, y'alls!

This has been a Desert Girl exclusive.

Masquerade Ball - November 30

Indigo Shadows, creator and producer of "Drums of Africa" presents

INCOGNITO - Masquerade Ball

in Crowne Plaza

 on Friday, 30 November, starting at 7 pm.

Dinner, Entertainment, Prizes, Best Costume Contest.

Attire: Costumes or Black Tie

Tickets: 13 KD.

For tickets and more info please call 999.55403

or email lorie@indigoshadows-events.com or loredana.beverly@hotmail.com

360 Mall’s Sculpture Gets More Damage

Repost from Kuwaitiful Nov 14

The popular sculpture that was made by Dale Chihuly was all over the news when a kid broke one of the flowers. I recently passed by it again and it looks like kids are having too much fun with crocs. I spotted at least 7 completely broken flowers and many damaged. I’m guessing 360 Mall isn’t going to up the budget to fix this.

(End)

Seriously, are people raising monkeys?  This is ART.  I think 360 needs to upgrade their security and put cameras in place (and maybe large display screens so the a-holes will know they are being filmed).   Or maybe they just need to place glass barriers around the upper balcony floors to protect the sculptures.  OR, best of all, ban children under the age of 21 (yes, I said children under 21...).

My sister had a Dale Chihuly vase.  It was one of her favorite objects (until the dogs ran around the house one day and broke it on the floor).  Estimated value:  $15,000 - for a single vase.  I can't IMAGINE how much this sculpture cost.

The Fireworks

Yeah yeah yeah - I know this subject  has been done to death, but I shoulda got on the bandwagon and written about it when it happened from my perspective.   Unfortunately, other events that took place that night AFTER the fireworks kind of dampened my mood (thanks, Happy, bless your heart).

There are a million photos out there, so I won't bore you with more.  You can do a Google or YouTube search.

It was simply the most awe-inspiring display of man-made events that I have ever witnessed.  I've seen some pretty cool stuff, but this made me feel like I was a 5-year-old again, face-up on a blanket under the Washington Monument with fireworks above my head; giggling.  Only this time, the show lasted an hour and a half and was much more elaborate.

We watched the show from Tameer Complex, which is about as close as you can get to the Kuwait Towers.  It was Happy's place, so we had refreshments AND a bathroom (who could stand out there for all those hours without a bathroom?)  As Happy said before they even began, "I've been to the bathroom 3 times already.  What about those poor people down there?"

Those poor people were throngs of thousands sitting on the beach like blades of  grass with no room between them.  Many had been out since 3pm with their children watching the side-shows before the fireworks started at 8.  If they were smart, they would have brought their own lawn chairs (which I've noticed that many people are doing at crowd gatherings/demonstrations lately).

Before the fireworks started, I was surprised to see how many people were not on the balconies of the complex.  There were only a few occupied by revelers; and the parking lot was empty.  Why would you want to miss a million-dinar view? 

The Romanian and I were determined to get there to see these fireworks.  We missed the big show the last time and weren't about to miss this one.  I left my house in Rumaithiya at 5:00.  I arrived at Tameer (by the grace of God) at 6:45.  Only because I drove like a commando.  We took the Airport Road (50) downtown, got stuck in traffic on Sour Street and then again on Estiqlal (I think) before discovering that 2nd Ring Road was cut off.  We decided to take a chance and cut through Dasma.  I don't know the area, so we winged it and OMG there was an exit open onto Fahaheel Expressway (which was backed up all the way down to Egaila).  I took it into B'naid Al Gar, went down a 1-way street behind Al Salam Hospital; went over several construction lots, and then sped around a police barricade at the Safir.  The only stopping point was a mentally-challenged person in the middle of the street right in front of Tameer who didn't know how to put his car into reverse and get out of the way.  I offered to do it for him.  Bada BING.

The only time The Romanian puts her seatbelt on (which makes me CRRRRRAZY by the way because I think it's stooopid not to) is when I start driving commando.  She is also the only one of my friends/family who isn't frightened by commando-style driving.  God love her.

Having spent the night before with Happy, I thought my reception would have been warmer, but nooooo.  (That's a whole nother story and not worth getting into).  Whatever.  We were introduced to a new friend of Lawyer Dudes as Happy's "Very good friends."  Huh?  Again, whatever. 

Back to the story....

There was a line of maybe hundreds if not thousands of private boats in the far distance that was kept back by police boats (you could tell because the police boats were set in a line/distance between).  I imagined the view from the water must have been spectacular.  They were a good distance back - probably to avoid falling debris from the fireworks. 

Before the fireworks started, the crowds were cheering and clapping. Music was playing from the Officer's Club across the street.  People walking by were happy.  As soon as the lights went out (as the performance was about to begin), you could feel the anticipation in the air.  It was erily quiet.  Then, the music and light show began just before the fireworks.  Light podiums were set at distances apart in the water.  Lasers, lights, and fireworks were set off from the podiums. 

Talk about the age of technology!  All you could see from every corner were people holding up their smart phones and filming. 

Sidebar:  The Politics of the Fireworks
People have asked me why Kuwait would hold such an eleaborate and expensive display during a time of seemingly political turmoil.  It was a message that Kuwait is unified.  It was also a message to those opposed to freedoms (like entertainment, enjoyment, MUSIC, happiness) that the Government (and most of the time when people refer to the "government" it means the ruling family)  is no longer tolerant of (and I love that I can use the expression in this context) the foreign influence of extremism. Kuwait has always been liberal.  Extremists have been creeping into this society since the end of the Gulf War (90/91) and influencing everything from school segregation to the "decency law" and death penalty for blasphemy (to the underground parties that just about every liberal in Kuwait has to attend because you can't dance or drink in public).  Take note:  No one has breached the subject of the Moslem Brotherhood (Khwan al Muslemeen) in Kuwait until very recently, but they have been a pervasive force here for years in many aspects of business and government. (Have a long beard; win a contract.)   Had there been a conservative parliament before the fireworks, they would have shot it down or it would have been tied up in committees talking about forming more committees.  I think the Government has had enough. This country is NOT Saudi Arabia. They didn't annex Kuwait.  It isn't for sale.  It is Kuwait with its own unique culture and traditions.  It is time to bring back the real Kuwait.   I am neutral to all parties and factions of this country (except I don't agree with extremists or ultra-conservatives), but enough is enough. Bedu, Hather, Shiite, Sunni:  UNIFY.  Stop talking trash about each other and start talking about how all can help change for the better. Personally, I'm tired of hearing, "(those people) are to blame." Everybody is to blame.  This show of force/unity should be a step in the right direction.  On a side note:  I am opposed to the cost of the display, but I do understand the political message it sent.

I loved the fireworks.  I feel blessed that I was there at the right time, in the right place to see them and to feel a part of something that I hope will give the people of Kuwait hope for progress.

Deceptively Happy

I debated about posting this because it's kind of whiny-girl, but WTF.

--

I have an extreeeeeeeeeeeeemely intelligent friend, Lawyer Dude, who is very well known in Kuwait (although his politics piss a lot of people off and I might just be one of them). He blows up Twatter(TM)  all the time.  He's the guy with the exclamation marks after everything!!!!  The Romanian and I have known him for years.  He runs in elite crowds with beautiful people.  He's not a snob (which is part of the reason why I love him so much).  He doesn't dress designer to try to impress others; he is who he is and he's secure about it.   He's a negotiator and tells it like it is.

He's how I met Happy.  Happy is one of his inner circle and closest friends.   They get together once a week and we've been going there on and off for the past 15 years.  Happy has always been there.  So, we know each other pretty dern good.

Very powerful/wealthy people aren't usually my friends.  Not because they're not nice or because I don't like them, but they have a different mindset.  My expectations/perceptions of "normal" don't usually correlate to theirs.  (There are exceptions of course.)  I have to be cautious around LD and his crowd not to be judgemental (guestlist has been known to include various forms of "talent" with a particular genre of "skillsets");  and further cautious not to feel like I/we are there for entertainment value and not purely for friendship (which can happen in those crowds,  as a lot of very wealthy people are also a lot of very bored people).

Because he is so intelligent, LD is also very insightful and perceptive; sometimes to the point of being scary - like going to a fortune teller who immediately knows intimate details about your life.   He KNOWS me (whereas I probably don't know 1/10th of the person he is).  He just gets me and is usually pretty verbal about it.  I like it.  He fascinates me.

I think he has known for many years that Happy and I would be suitable for each other.  He just knew and he never pushed until we "saw" each other.  And that's what happened; all these years later.  We found each other and we were there all the time.  I felt deceptively secure with Happy - especially since he has been a friend (if not distant friend) for so long.

Now, LD is perceptive enough to know what type of person I am and what my requirements are (which, compared to the group that they run with,  are very small in comparison).  What I do require is attention:  Pick up the phone when I call.  Send me messages to let me know you are thinking about me.  Show up when you say you will.  Unfortunately, Happy is scoring very low on all these points and it makes me sad (possibly because I am NOT a patient person).  He's a keeper.  I know it.  I am 100% convinced that this guy has the potential to be "him".   However, I'm a girl who believes in "how it is in the beginning will determine how it is in the end."  Show me.  It should be so easy.  And as an impatient person, my little voice keeps screeeeeaming in my ear, "Why wait?  Why wait?  Why wait?"

So, LD caught onto this when we were all together. (I got that, "I understand everything" look.)  He's always said that he could tell exactly what I was thinking by just looking into my eyes.  I admit it;  I don't have a poker face.  What you see is what you get.  I'm hoping that he'll be able to talk to Happy (because I've tried several times now) about it and maybe I'll get happy.  Upon preponderance of the evidence, I am left to debate whether the training curve and amount of patience I must invest will bring about a beneficial outcome; or if I should just take it at face value as a loose friendship and go about my own business.  I'm willing to pay LD's full hourly rate if he's willing to step in and arbitrate.

---

LD did step in and arbitrate.  He's a friend, so he didn't charge.

So since I first posted this, there have been developments.  Our relationship got a little stronger; mostly because Happy started showing long-term and definitive interest: "Will you help me re-decorate the apartment?  You pick out the fabrics.." "Let's go see your family at Christmas..." and the best of course which I guess they believe is the panty-dropper, "I think you are the one I have been waiting for..."  This in addition to offering to bring me groceries.  Good hachi, baby.  

But alas, I believe that the guy was just not into me after all.  Its too bad because he had a lot of good qualities that I admire. Sigh.  Unfortunately, he has the attention span of a gnat and probably (don't know but I'm just guessing by the talent) a few seedy vices that I don't even want to think about (refer to 4th paragraph).  Et.... I have a real problem with people who can't call.  If you're interested; prove it. Call me to make sure I got home safely.  Call me to say what's up.  Send me a message. I can see when you're online, dumbass.  And - OhMaGod - send flowers!  That would be amaaaazing.  (And probably what helped me stay with The Man for so long. Thanks baby.  I still love that you did that.  There were some things that you did for me that I'll never forget. Sometimes when things don't go well, I think of you.   I digress....)    If you F up, do something to show you're sorry.  Am I too much of an attention whore?  Are those things too much to ask?

Did I shave my legs for this??  

He was doing great on the communication until we got close; then it all became quiet.  Talk!  Got a text message from him saying our relationship is "purely friendship".  I got your friendship right here:  If you can't treat me right in a relationship, you don't deserve to be my friend.

(Expat, you called this one, girl.)  The Romanian is my BS barometer and she had him figured for a keeper.  Time for a calibration?

You so handsome!

This is why I'm staying away from online dating now....  Why would anyone think that a woman would want to write to them?

Man Sues Parents for KD 1 Million

Man Sues Parents for KD 1 Million

Arab Times, Tuesday, November 6, 2012

A court has set November 8, 2012, to look into the lawsuit which has been filed by a 35 year old Kuwaiti man, reports Al-Watan Arabic daily.

The Kuwaiti is demanding KD 1 million from his parents saying they are responsible for his sufferings and deprivation.

Case papers indicate the parents divorced two months after giving birth to the plantiff and each went their way and also got married.  The mother left the baby in the are of a Kuwaiti family with no birth certificates.  However, the baby grew up and is now 30 and with the help of DNA tests has managed to get the citizenship.

-          End –

The writing sucks – as usual. 

OMG can you imagine just dumping your kid on someone else to raise without any documents or anything?  WTF?! And WTF were the adoptive parents thinking?  I hope dude gets his money.  You don’t just dump a kid.  Ok, if you can’t care for him/her, at least do the right thing by him/her.  Both biological parents are to blame.

At least at the Kuwaiti orphanage, he would have had a chance of nationality and wouldn’t have had to research who his parents where (and why they dumped him).

Honey, where's your chabka?

I've had a lot of inquiries from foreign ladies recently married to Kuwaitis - or about to be married.  Sometimes it isn't an inquiry even, but when we get down to discussing things, it comes out that they are missing a few things; or that perhaps hubby has "forgotten" to mention a few things of importance that perhaps he should have.   Girlfraynd, get edumacated!  (and Kuwaiti girlfriends - if anything I am saying below is incorrect, please feel free to jump in.)

“… but I looooooove him….”  Okey dokey.  What about your future?  We foreign chicks are not the blue-light special and shouldn't come at a discount, but unfortunately, that's the way it works a lot of times:  Know your rights; culturally and legally.  So, a weee bit of Desert Girl condescending advice....

In the States, for example, when you get married, customarily dude buys you an engagement rock and a wedding band; and your daddy pays for the wedding.  Not here. Women in Kuwait (and you don’t have to be Kuwaiti)  get "chabka" when they get married.    Chabka is a gold set (necklace, bracelet, ring, earrings).  Although you are foreign, the family should give you gold otherwise they look cheap in front of their friends/neighbors. It is considered "ayeb".  Women keep gold as a safety net and often sell it/trade it.  (Chabka is not one piece of gold either.  If you want to know what chabka looks like - go down to any gold souq in Kuwait and ask them to see a set.  Shock and awe, baybeee.)   And it is the Kuwaiti man's responsibility to pay for the wedding. Bam.

Have a Kuwaiti wedding reception, even if it's a small one.  Think bigtime gifts for your new home!  Doooo IT.  Its payback for all the time your guy and his family have given bigtime gifts to their relatives and close friends at their weddings.

Marriage contract:  What you put into your Kuwaiti marriage contract as an end-of-marriage amount is all that you get for alimony.  You can't sue him for alimony - only child support.  So, if they talked you into signing something that you didn't understand when you signed your marriage contract, you may have just cheated yourself out of a nest egg.  Don’t sign anything that you don’t understand.

Dowry is written into the marriage contract.  Many women choose not to put a lot down at the front end of the marriage contract, but write in a large amount at end-of-marriage so that 1) dude can't just divorce you on a whim and then not have to pay out (making it "cheaper to keep her") and 2) the woman will be financially secure if he does divorce you.  [I have one Kuwaiti friend who wrote in a million dinars for end-of-marriage to prove to his new bride how strong his love (lust, methinks)  was.  He can never leave her.  He's soooo screwed.]

If you are getting married here in Kuwait, do NOT kiss when it is announced you are married at the courthouse.  Public display of affection is illegal and the judge will have no other choice than to have you both arrested (especially since there are appointed witnesses).  Witnesses:  You can bring your own if you want.

Know your rights before you have children.  There is a difference between Shiite and Sunni courts in terms of child custody.  Who gets the kids?  What happens?   Learn about family law here and what could potentially happen.

Kuwaiti men get more money monthly when they get married from the government (usually something like 150kd) and 50kd/mo for each child up to 5 children.

If your husband works in a private (non-government)  company, his salary is partially matched by the government. 

By law, a husband must provide food for the house, rent, and be able to support his wife and children.  Any money the wife makes during the marriage is HERS and he can't touch it. 

Apply early for Kuwaiti nationality.  Your husband should start this when you get married.  Why do you want it?  Because if you get it, the government will give you (as a couple) a house (you've got to be on a waiting list).   1/2 of it becomes yours.  You get benefits and money from the government.  If you ever get divorced as a Kuwaiti woman, the government pays for (part of?) your housing.  You also get medical care.  Major benefits.  You want it - trust me.

Don't ever let your husband or his family make you think that you HAVE to wear hejab.  It is your choice.  It is ONLY your choice; between you and God.

When a woman has a serious fight with her husband here, she returns to her family and usually the families sort it out.  As a foreign woman in Kuwait, you don't have that resource, so your circle of women friends is REALLY important as a support system.  You will get no assistance from the embassy.  It isn't their mission.  They'll only refer you to a lawyer on their list.  There are no women’s shelters in Kuwait.  Who ya gonna call?

Call me a cynic,  but these are the things that you have to know.  In the mothahland, you know what happens.  Do you know what might happen here?   I believe in love and all that, but I'm a realist and  girls should know the skinny.  Have a back-up plan.  Love is great, but so is food and shelter.

Disclaimer:  Guys:  please don't get mad at me.  Marriage is a beginning of a life together.  Do you really want to begin it with dishonesty? 

Khaleeji Family

What?  No maid or driver? 

And who has trees??

The Khaleeji Family, as seen in BHS Salmiya. 

Oktoberfest - Desert Girl Style

This has been such a lovely month.  Je suis content.  Yup.  (Mashallah)

I was away for a few weeks at the Association of the US Army's convention in DC.  Why the Hell hasn't anyone invented a transporter like on Star Trek?  Why can't I just beam over to DC? 

I travelled with eye problems and I returned with eye problems. This has been going on for a long time and it is a pain in my ... well, in my eyes.  It huwwwwts.  I don't like it.  Been back to the doctor and it is dry eye brought on by whatever virus I had at the end of September/early October.  I hate not being able to wear make-up.  People don't even recognize me.  It's pathetic.  The doctor says (supposedly) 2 more weeks of this.  Jeezy peezy.  I tried my damndest to cure it with alcohol/intoxication therapy, but even that didn't work.  [Ironically, although the title of this is "Oktoberfest" - I don't drink beer.  Never have.  Can't stand the taste of it (since the 6th grade when I chugged one and threw up all over the playground at The Paine School).]

So anyways, DC is always gorgeous at this time of the year.  All the leaves were changing color and for some reason, this year must have been a bumper crop of pumpkins;  they were huge and they were everywhere.  So pretty. 

By the way, happy Halloween.  I love this holiday.

The day that I arrived, my sister and nephew and I went to the annual Midieval festival.  Or should I say, Festival of Weird-O's.  Holy snap!  They take this thing seriously.  My sister says that they are either there to participate or to make fun of.  We were the later.  The whole place is drunk.  Then, they start talking to each other about their weird costumes; or they go to the jousting tournaments and shout as loud as they can.  Freaky.  It made me very nervous. My nephew loved it.  He brought his 3' wooden sword.  Why?  I have no idea.  He dragged that thing around all day and ate a seriously greezy turkey leg and was completely content.  Whyyyy?

I got to meet the new addition to our family:  Harley.  He's gorgeous and I adore him already.  He has the most unnaturally soft fur that I've ever seen on a dog.  And he has a lot of the same character traits that Rascal, who died recently, did. 

Stella arrived a few days after me.  My sister took us to her beach house in Ocean City and again - the weather was amazing.  It was so pretty there.  We ate, we drank, we giggled.    We went to eat crabs one night and the next day for lunch we had lobster (rolls and salad) and of course more drinks.  We visited the sea and walked in the surf.  What a happy time. It was the best time I can remember for a long time.  When you look back at your life sometimes you have a string of days that stick out in your memory and that was one.

I drove down into rural Virginia one day with my mother; just to go to a roadside stand that my sister had taken her to a few weeks before.  We bought some apples and drove back.  The countryside was full of green pastures with red and brownish trees along the sides.  There are a lot of deer right now in the area and (I hate this) it is deer hunting season.  I almost hit one, one night; a big buck that darted in front of the car.  I'm always on the look out for them so I had plenty of time to stop.  Its always kinda magical to see them boppin around.

I've become so accustomed to going to the States that I try to fill the days as much as possible.  Sometimes I look back and find it hard to believe that I did so much in a few weeks' time.  (And how many pairs of shoes I could buy!!!  (OMG!  www.dsw.com - shooooooes!  Booooooots!)

I got back just before Sandy hit.  I'm glad for that.  My sister was worried about her house and about their boat docked in front.  We've heard from her neighbors that both are fine.

So I got back to Kuwait ....  Stealth and The Romanian picked me up from the airport.  They so sweet.  I went home and slept and slept.

And the next day....

Happy.  (I'm going to call him "Happy" after his nickname on an app.)
I've seen my lawyer/friend's best friend, Happy, many times over the years.  He's a nice guy, but never really thought about him (never "saw" him even though he was right in front of me the whole time) until just now when I got back and he made me notice him.  When I say that I need a man to impress me, I mean it.  I'm impressed.  How did he do it?  He was completely up-front and direct with me immediately. He made me a priority.   He told me how he felt about me and asked the same of me.  He told me what he wanted a future together to be like.  It was that simple.  He's even doing that one thing that is so important to me:  He likes my dog and the feeling is mutual.  If you don't pass my dog test, you don't get to stick around very long.  (I've been asked before by stupid people, "If you had to choose between me and your dog, who would you choose?"  Ya know, people, I don't even need to hear the end of that sentence to answer, 'My dog.' It's a no-brainer.) 

Disclaimer:   If a guy doesn't call me or SMS while I'm away from him; he doesn't impress me.  If he doesn't call immediately when I return; he doesn't impress me.  Show up at the airport to greet me;  that impresses me.  If he is tentative about plans or doesn't see an immediate need to see me:  he doesn't impress me.  (Booty calling does NOT impress me.)  Wishy-washy, namby-pamby does NOT impress me. Grow some cojones, be direct, be a man.  Impress.  End of disclaimer.
Ironically, Happy is the cousin of the man who got me to Kuwait for work (another lawyer).  He  and his cousin don't get along well at all because of the difference in their political and religious views.  We have that in common!  [I was recruited by the Khwan al Muslemeen and I never fit in with their niche (so to speak).  I am grateful - as I should always be - because they got me to Kuwait.  But that's another story that I don't know if I will/should write about.]  Happy is single (never married - no baggage), he's in my age group, he's financially solvent, he travels, he's got a great sense of humor, and the initial signs are all good.  Mashallah.  The Romanian is my Romance Barometer. She always knows who is going to be good for me.  She told me a long time ago to take a better look at Happy, but I didn't pay attention.  I am now.

Bu Merdas came around about a month before I left and wanted to get back together again - but on his idiotic terms (seriously - too idiotic to even write down) and with his recurring theme of lack-of-communication.  Oh.My.God.  Would you grow up and learn how to just TALK to me???  RRRRR!  He called The Romanian while I was away and talked to her at length about me and our relationshit.  Why is it so difficult just to talk to the person you are in the relationshit with?   Why you gotta go talk to my best friend?  Je ne get it pas.  Are we in high school?  Now he's sending me mushy romantic photos over the internet.  Sigh.  That aint gonna do it for me, buddy.  It seems that he only wants me when I move on and don't want him anymore.

All women want is to feel secure.  That's it.  Secure.  For the most part, we don't need a whole bunch of stuff (although there are a lot of gold-diggers and high-maintenance biotches who do).  Not me.  I just want someone to tell me how he feels about me, means it, and shows me.  What is the big deal?

I've known Bu Merdas for 10 years.  A lot of truly good (dare I even say 'exceptional'?) could have happened in that 10 years, but I've never felt secure with him.  He's never allowed me to.  Not once. Never let me in.  That little voice in the back of my head talked to me.   Happy makes me feel infinitely more secure already.  I love direct.  He's direct.  Why can't more men just be direct? Why the insecurity and secrecy?

The Man would never talk to me.  That used to drive me crazy.  He might talk to me later - sometimes much later - when it was pointless.  Who knows what might have happened had he just been direct and talked to me?  How can you be secure when you don't have all the information?

No regrets wallah.  Everything happens for a reason and it is all good.

Right before I left, I met a new friend by chance (in kindof a strange way) who is a breast cancer survivor.  Her arthritis (brought on by chemo) was bothering her.  I talked to her yesterday and she says the cancer is back.  She said that she was sorry to tell me that - since we were new friends and I don't need the drama.  Sometimes people are sent your way to make you look at your surroundings differently.  Or perhaps you can help them in a way when they (or you) need a friend. God doesn't make mistakes.

So anyhoo, is this going to be a great winter or what?  Wow!  The rain and the thunder/lightening storm when I arrived from DC I took as a sign of good things to come.  Mashallah, I have THE most amazing group of friends I could ever wish for and everything is looking good in my world.  I'm wishing the same for all the people I know (real and virtual).

On the subject of cheating

On my Desert Girl Facebook page, I wrote a little diddy about having a fun fling with a handsome Kuwaiti friend.  I discovered - by basically stalking him on FB - that he is dating a friend-of-a-friend.  Likesay, it was only a fun fling and I hadn't even had the chance to really get to know him before all this happened, so no loss.  He was a good kisser and it was wanaaaaaaaaaaaasa. Sigh.  (And okay... to be honest... where do you draw the line for when cheating starts?  At kissing?)  I do feel bad for his girlfriend, however.  She seems like a sweet girl; totally in love.  She's all over facebook with it (people would you learn how to set your security?!  Dayum.)  Probably doesn't have a clue.  ...WAKE UP!!! 

I used to be that innocent.  Now my ears are highly sensitive bullshyt detectors.  I learned, like many of us do, the hard way.  Now unfortunately I'm one of those jaded women (not girls) who tends to anticipate the negative first before allowing myself to hope for the positive.  I'm the poster child for why men date stupid, young, innocent girls who don't know any better.

Then, I got responses from people saying that I should tell her.  Uh... no thank you.  Why - so she could hate ME and tell her friend (who is also my friend)?  So she could run back to him and tell him I told her?  Why would I want to do that?  Hurt her?  Maybe she's cheating too:  I don't know.  Not my business.  I can only stay away from him and wish them the best.

So anyhoo, the Facebook string opened up a whole can o'worms on the subject of cheating.  Some Kuwaiti ladies even chimed in that it is cultural.

What do you think?

What do I think?  I believe that certain species of animals like wolves and maybe swans mate for life, but humans:  not so much.  I'm just not a believer anymore.  Wish I was, Peter Pan, but those days are gone.  I'm still waiting for the magic to return to Never-never Land. 

In this part of the world, there is no monetary punishment for cheating, so it is kind of game-on.  In the States, if you are married and you cheat, you have broken the marriage contract and you pay for it when you divorce. Not here.  Nope.  Dude can have 4 wives.  If a woman cheats, however, the whole world has ended (totally 'nother story).

Historically, there is this whole thing about wealthy men who had concubines (mistresses) on the side that they did things with that they would never dream of doing with their wives. (I was friends with a Kuwaiti couple and they were joking around with me one time. He said that he asked her to do something and then was like, "WHAT?!  I can't do THAT with YOU!  You're my WIFE!  They laughed about it, but that is the way some men here feel. That's pathetic.) The concubines were often treated better than wives.  Well, are things so different now?

I get e-mails every now and then from women saying, "I think my guy in Kuwait is cheating.  What do you think?"  What do I think?  Hell YES he's cheating.  If you have to ask the question, you already know the answer.  God gave women intuition for a reason.  My momma always used to say, if you sense danger, get out.  You are sensing it for a reason.  Guys, how many times have your women known something that they couldn't possibly know, but they just KNOW it?  That's women's intuition. 

Would I cheat?  That's not really our topic here, now is it?  But if you want an honest answer, I'll give it to you:  If the guy is devoted to me and gives me everything that I need in a relationship - why should I wander?  If I'm not getting what I need and I'm feeling slighted or disrespected, why should I be with him?  If I love a guy, I would walk through fire for him and that is the truth.  I wouldn't consider doing anything to hurt him.  But alas, finding that person is a rare rare thing. 
So anyhoo, those are my thoughts in a nutshell.

How Kuwait Lost It's Moustach

In the 80s, ALL Kuwaiti men had big moustaches (kind of like walruses).  If they didn't, it would be a disgrace; dude would be less of a man.  There was none of this manscaping stuff that came in the 90's; if you even suggested that a man trim his moustache, it was met with indignation, "What? I'm a MAN!"  To shave off ones moustach was almost sacreligious. You didn't discuss it for fear of insult. Wives begged their husbands just to trim the thing.  "Ana RIJAL!  Yeh!"   All men carried a little comb and the corners of their moustaches were constantly being played with.  Yeah, kind of gross, but honestly, it wasn't about the facial hair  itself, but what it stood for:  masculinity and pride.

Ghosts from my past

I miss those days.  All that bravado seems like ancient history.
How did Kuwait lose it's moustache?  How did everything become so metrosexual  up in here?

Don't get me wrong, every once in a blue moon you can still see a father or grandfather with an 80's moustach, but most of them are gone and have been replaced by the "dirty look" or the "secsooka" (goatie which my friends and I call the "sexy-sooka").  Some Kuwaiti men go for the completely bare look which to me personally is just too damn feminine.  Ick.  It would be like kissing another girl.  Ew.  I don't want to see your naked face!  Where is your PRIDE?  Int mu rijal?

So what happened?  When we lost the moustach, it seems like all that pride and machismo went right along with it.  Everything became wishy-washy and the lines kind of morphed together.  Where are those tough guys I used to know?  The same guys are still here (and were there all the time under the symbol of pride), but now it is gone.   Now they carry man purses..  For the love of God!  What has the country come to?

The Murse Hits Kuwait

I really don't have a lot of fascinating things to say today, but I had my oatmeal for breakfast and I thought I would throw around some random thoughts.

Kuwaiti men have started carrying man-purses and I don't think I like it.  I have a few friends who pack toiletry bags full of their stuff and carry them around with them.  They seem to believe this is masculine.  I think it is .... well.... an excuse to carry a purse.  First off, it is a toiletries kit and I always wonder if they are going to whip out some after shave and a razor.  (Or just wonder if they're there for the night?  Come to my house carrying a toiletries bag and my mind does tend to wander.)  But no... it is the "fashion" in Kuwait (and Kuwait always has their own "fashion") for guys to carry around their 4 cell phones (tablets, padlets, 007 decoder phones whateverthefucktheyare), 2 packs of cigarettes, lighter/s, a pen and paper, and perhaps some cologne in their murse.  Yes, that's right - I would have almost the same stuff in mine but with a lipstick too.  (I'm not asking them about that.)  Wouldn't it be far more masculine to don a tool belt?  Or cargo pants with pockets?  Or maybe leave half your crap in your car?  What's up with the murse?

The other night, a friend (who shall remain nameless as to guard his masculinity) came over and put his murse on the counter near my purse.  I have a Swarovski pen which is black on one end and full of tiny crystals on the other end.  It was sitting on the counter.  He looked at it strangely for a while and then retrieved the same pen from his murse and showed it to me.  Em..... that was going too far:  We have the same stuff in our purses.  I'm looking at him differently now (can't help it). 

Man up, Kuwait!!!

Crackdown on Bedoun Activists

Stop, children what's that sound?  Everybody look what's goin' down....

Disclaimer:  The below is a re-post of previously published information available to the public through any quick internet search or via Twitter.

Crackdown on Bedoun Activists  LINK

Arab Times

KUWAIT CITY, Oct 9, (Agencies): Police in Kuwait have arrested seven leading stateless activists for “instigating” demonstrations and are hunting for eight more in a clampdown aimed at preventing protests, a rights official said on Tuesday.

Among those detained was the head of the Kuwaiti Bedouns (stateless) Committee, Ahmad Al-Tameemi and his assistant Ali Al-Enezi, the director of the Kuwait Society for Human Rights, Mohammad Al-Humaidi, told AFP.

Twenty-three stateless protesters including five teenagers were arrested on October 2 during a demonstration, said Humaidi.

“Today, the public attorney freed the five teenagers on $715 bail (550 euros) each pending trial. They are between 14 and 16 years old,” said Humaidi, adding that the youths were interrogated on charges of illegal assembly.

The remaining 18 adults, including a Kuwaiti activist, are still in detention facing similar charges, he said.

Police used tear-gas and smoke bombs to disperse the stateless demonstrators who were demanding citizenship and other basic rights, injuring at least three people.

Around 200 stateless men, arrested in previous demonstrations since Bedouns began staging protests in February 2011, are facing trial for illegal assembly, assaulting police and resisting arrest.
Some have been acquitted by the lower court while others still await verdicts.

Authorities in Kuwait insist that non-Kuwaitis living in the country have no right to protest, unlike the 1.2 million citizens.

Bedouns, who number more than 105,000, claim they have the right to Kuwaiti citizenship, but the government says only 34,000 qualify for consideration, arguing that the rest hold citizenship of other countries.

Kuwait has launched a campaign against Bedouns to force them to prove their original identity, depriving them of many basic rights despite criticism by international human rights groups.

Kuwait has long alleged that Bedouns, and in some cases their ancestors, destroyed their original passports to claim the right to citizenship in order to gain access to the state-provided services and benefits.

In an attempt to force the Bedouns to produce their original nationality papers, Kuwait has refused to issue essential documents to most of them, including birth, marriage and death certificates.

Meanwhile, unconfirmed reports said that in response to a call by John Moore (Twitter @JohnFMoore), a member of American congress, several Bedouns organized a rally on Al-Najashi Street since securitymen banned them from gathering in Taima Yard.

Reportedly, John Moore had encouraged the Bedouns through Twitter two days back to demonstrate and demand Kuwaiti government to grant them their rights as Kuwaiti citizens.

---

If you are on Twitter, there is a HELL of a lot of activity on the Bedoun cause and what is happening NOW in Taima, Jahra (Northern Kuwait) to the Bedoun.  This is your neighborhood.  Get educated on local current events.  You won't always read about it in the newspaper.

This is a post of an AI bulletin re-tweeted by Mr. Moore.

Other Information:



Amnesty International Kuwait Report

Amnesty International Kuwait Human Rights

Kuwait Police Clamp Down on Stateless Activists (Alakhbar English)

Kuwait:  Shotgun Used Against Stateless Protesters (Global Voices)

Twitter:

#FreeStatelessInKuwait

@BedoonRights

@globalvoices

@monakareem

@MARYAMALKHAWAJA

Kuwait Visa Article 18 Process

I get asked this a lot:  What are the requirements for obtaining an Article 18 visa?  Well, it changes almost on a daily basis and it depends where you are from and how much wastah your sponsoring company has.  A few years ago, I documented the process in flowcharts. Disclaimer:  things may have changed.  This is to give an overall "big picture" approach to what is required and approximate timeframes.  You'll still have to talk to people who are in the know officially (I'm not).  Companies like CIBT (www.cibt.com) can help.  They also expedite the security clearance attestments and offer other services.  You can also try to find out from the official applicable Kuwaiti Government department (ROFLMAO). 

So here is the unofficial version of the big picture for Western applicants:

If you have trouble viewing the diagrams and you want a better copy, write to me and I'll send you a file (amerab@gmail.com).  Sometimes photos don't upload so well to Blogger.

Dog Story

My 18 year old nephew is a natural-born writer.  He's been writing exceptional stories since he was quite young.  Now, he's in his first semester in college and wrote the story below and blew.me.away.  His professor said that the first essay kids hand her during their first year is about the death of a grandparent or a pet.  She said that when she read this story, she sat on her sofa, reading it to her boyfriend, and they both cried. 

(This happened when I was home in August and I'm glad I was there with the family.  If it had happened while I was in Kuwait, I would have been a basket case.  I'm so glad we were all together.)

Alex, I hope you keep writing.  Your talent is too special not to continue.  Love you, boyyyyy.

Rascal

I woke up that morning earlier than most. Summer was coming to and end and it was the week before I was to leave for college. I got up around 7:30; I must have heard my parents already up. As I peaked down stairs I heard no noise, no barking coming from my usually obnoxious dogs and no sign of my parents even though their door was open. As I turned around the corner into the kitchen I’ll never forget how I felt as I looked into the laundry room. I was confused and broken hearted to see my parents huddled around him I had never hurt so much from a bad girlfriend or a lost football game or even a broken bone. But when I saw him lying there I kind have wished I were feeling any other pain.

Eleven years earlier I woke up to a much happier sight. My mom had got me from my room to bring me outside by the garage. I was an eager kid and old for my age so I was expecting big things for my birthday like an apache helicopter to a jet pack or the power rangers; almost anything a seven year old boy could come up with or thought of. However I definitely wasn’t expecting a best friend, let alone two. But there they were two yellow lab puppies so small you could scoop them up with one hand. As I ran over to the crate and rolled around with them as they made their puppy sounds and teethed on whatever part of clothes they could find. I knew right then that it would be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

My mom, being the liberal as she is,  let me name one all by myself, and back then that kind of power was a huge deal. We named the lighter colored one Beau as a family and I decided to name the darker colored one "Rascal" after the movie, “The Little Rascals”;  as it just so happened to be my favorite movie at the time. As the years went on I would soon be very frustrated at my decision because it turned out that Rascal was the least trouble out of all of our dogs. Rascal was obedient; he was playful, but only when one of us initiated the playing. He also turned out to be the smartest and wiser of the bunch. He was nothing like the Little Rascals depicted in movie, sadly. He was timid and didn’t like to swim, which often made me mad. All the other dogs knew how to swim except for him…

I guess if the worst of your problems as a dog father is your dog being obedient and not being a “little Rascal” then I guess you could say that I had minimal problems.

Rascal might have been the fattest dog on the planet. He could chew threw a brick wall if he was hungry enough. After finishing his dinner he would stand by the drawer where he knew the treats were concealed. Even after he had his “post-meal” snack he would then proceed to lick his bowl digging for whatever scraps he could find. All this contributed to how he got his more common name, “Fat Rascal”. Wherever he went in the house he waddled;  he would waddle into the kitchen he would waddle into the den and out the back yard chasing a ball. My mom would always see him coming and say, “Hey, hey, hey here comes Fat Rascal.” Yes he was that fat.

He was a loving dog most of all, he loved his momma (my mother) and boy did he love his dad (my step-father Wayne). He would follow that man into hell if he had to.  Wayne couldn’t go to the bathroom without that big lethargic mutt waddling on after him. Wherever you so Wayne around the house you most likely saw Fat-Rascal waddling alongside.

I never realized how much time I spent with him until I sat down to think about it one day. He was there with me through elementary school; every time I would get off the bus there he was barking his head off in the window waiting for me to come inside. The big guy was with me through all of high school, he even was up late nights coming home from parties or after games.  Rascal and I have been through a whole lot in our lives. I was there when he was sick, feeding him his pills or picking the ticks off of him. He was there for me when I was sad or sick and he was always damn proud to be by my side. Its not often you find a friend like that. I don’t think I ever will again. He was the brother I never had.

Eleven years later and summer was coming to and end and it was the week before I was to leave for college. We were all sitting in the living room watching TV like we did most nights as a family;  my parents and I and our three dogs Beau, Rascal and the newer edition to the family, Lola. Beau and Lola were off doing their own things playing with each and my parents were dozing off. Rascal was surprisingly awake it was really unlike the old guy -lately usually he was either eating or sleeping but not that night. That night he crawled over to me like he used to as a puppy and started hitting me with his paw.

He and I rolled around on the carpet for a good hour that night. I didn’t see it then but I sure see it now. He was loving on me and licking my hands and face like he hadn’t done in a long time. He was just playing, playing like a new puppy. I didn’t think much of it at all; I was too caught up in the moment. Now I see that he might have just been telling me how much he loved me and reminiscing on all the great times we had.  He was saying goodbye.

That night he couldn’t walk down the steps to go outside and use the bathroom. Of course I thought nothing of it; he was an old dog and this was usual. If I could go back I would have played with him all night, I wouldn’t have let him fall asleep, I would have rubbed his big fat belly all night. I would have done a lot of things different if I had known that was the last night ever that he was going to fall asleep for the rest of my life.

I got up around 7:30; I must have heard my parents already up. As I peaked down stairs I heard no noise, no barking coming from my usually obnoxious dogs and no sign of my parents even though their door was open. As I turned around the corner into the kitchen I’ll never forget how I felt as I looked into the laundry room. I was confused and broken hearted to see my parents huddled around him I had never hurt so much from a bad girlfriend or a lost football game or even a broken bone. But when I saw him lying there I kind have wished I were feeling any other pain.

There he was, lying there on the floor, so peaceful, just the way he lies when he naps. This time it was a different nap, I knew this nap was the one that he wouldn’t be waking up from. It was the first time id seen Wayne cry, ever, in all my life. My parents moved away so I could see him. I can still feel the heavy sadness in my head and in my gut like it was yesterday. I saw him lying there and all the times I shared with him kept flashing through my mind. I thought my dogs were invincible, I thought my dogs could never die. As much as I could have prepared for seeing him like that,  nothing could have kept me from feeling the heartache I did.

           

Mom called the vet as Wayne and I wrapped him up in towels and took him to the car. Before they took him to the vets they let me say one last goodbye to him. I held him, crying. His body was cold and hard but he was the same color and had the same face as he did when he slept. I don’t know why I thought he would look different. I thought holding him would feel like he was less real. But sadly it didn’t feel less real at all, he felt like the same little Rascal I was holding last night. I couldn’t think of anything to say so I just kept holding onto him as if it could bring him back. I thought maybe the longer I hold on, the more memories I’ll have with him. When they left to the vet and I was alone, I don’t think I’ve ever cried so hard in my entire life. It was as if my best friend had died. A best friend I’d watched grow since he was a puppy running around with a ball in his mouth until he was a big wise old dog chewing on a bone. One of the biggest persons in my life had just passed on.

Rascal was my dog. He was my best friend he would do anything for me and I would have done anything for him. I realize now that there are only a few rare people you come across in life that can love you unconditionally and will always have your back no matter what.   You have your mother and your father and then… you have your dog, mans best friend. I know Rascal couldn’t stick around forever; all I can do now is cherish the time I had with him and accept his passing.  Not a day goes by where I don’t think about him or hear someone say in my head, “Hey, hey, hey here comes Fat Rascal.”