Do you remember that game?

Will and I played a feisty round this morning.

Actually, it was more like 7 rounds.

That’s right.

49 minutes in heaven.

Will is a stud.

Oooohhhhhh yyyeeeaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh.

This is how it went:

“Beep Beep Beep Beep”

SLAM.

Elapsed time: 7 minutes.

“Beep Beep Beep Beep”

SLAM.

Elapsed time: 7 minutes.

Repeat 5 more times.

That’s right, 49 minutes in Heaven with my sweet Will.

What better way to spend a morning?

What did you have in mind?

Actual love making in the morning?

Please.

We know what’s important in a marriage and it’s adequate sleep!

Ha ha, okay. Just kidding, but this morning we both preferred the rules of this game compared to the traditional way.

The alarm was set for 3:15 with the mutual understanding we could hit the snooze once and be up by 3:22.

Sidenote- Who in their right mind gets up at 3:!5 to go to a job they don’t even really like!?

Who does that!?

Who!!!!??????!

I’ll tell you who!

NO ONE!

No one in their right minds gets up in the middle of the night to go to work. There has to be something seriously wrong with people who live this way. Anything before 6:30 is just plain rude. Don’t you agree?

Okay, back to the matter at hand.

3:30 rolls around and I barely budge. Will groggily rolls over and violently attacks the crap out of our alarm. I don’t think he meant to slam it 37 times, but he did. I’m surprised it went off again.

We didn’t get out of bed until 4:10. I was in a panic.

We jumped in the shower. I felt like I was in army basic training. “Go Go Go! 2 Minutes! 2 Minutes! 2 Minutes!” I just knew that any second a muscular and menancing drill sergeant was going to rip open the shower curtain and give me a dreaded pink belly while simultaneously flushing the toilet.

Anyway, a strange thing happens to me when I’m feeling rushed. For whatever reason, when I’m in a hurry to get ready, my nose starts to run out of the blue and uncontrollably. Isn’t that weird!?

I don’t know if it’s because I’m rushing around and snorting and breathing like I’m Sea Biscuit or what, but I snot all over the place. When this occurs, I do what any normal person would do (ha).

I stick toilet paper up my nose to catch the flow. Yep. That’s right. I have a walrus sort of thing going on but instead of huge white spears coming out of my mouth, they’re coming out my nose.

I know you’re wondering how hot it makes Will. Trust me, he can’t keep his hands off me when I’ve got my walrus look (ha again).

So today as I rushed I was Brittny the Walrus.  I had one nostril under control, but when the second one started to flow I really thought to myself, “I’m sitting here, trying to do my hair, sweating like a pig, with Quilted Northern Shoved up my nose.”

There comes a point in every woman’s life after playing 7 minutes in Heaven when they simply question their dignity.  I did just that as I aggressively brushed my teeth while trying to keep the tissue from sticking to the toothbrush.

Oh I feel so dirty.

Who am I?

So I started off the morning a little rushed- and still debating whether the extra sleep was really a good idea.

I got to work and decided that after the “rushy” morning I should get breakfast at the mess hall and bring it back to my office. I was all set and good to go. I was enjoying my breakfast and checking my email when all of a sudden a piece of my egg white omellete fell in slow-mo, plummeting between the H and the G of my keyboard. “BAM,” it resounded as it bounced in between keys. I let out a slow motion, “Nooooooooo” as I watched my breakfast lodge itself into the black abyss. I tried my best to dig it out to no avail.

I hate- HATE- a dirty keyboard. It drives me bananas (B-A-N-A-N-A-S). I can’t stop thinking about it. It has consumed my thoughts all day. I’ve tried everything. Even those air dusters. I’m afraid my breakfast is destined to remain trapped In GH forever.  How gross.

So that was my morning:

Oversleeping,

snotting all over myself,

dropping my omelette between G and H.

Yep. That’s about right. Sounds like another typical day in my life.

In other news, the current rumor at our camp is that OPRAH is coming next week. Apparently one of the ladies in our office thinks she’s coming because she wrote her and asked her to come visit. Now, who knows if this is true, but apparently it’s even been in the papers. I won’t believe it until I see her for myself. Rumors are constantly circulating about stuff like that since so many famous people are in and out for the soldiers. Anyway, I’m counting it as rumor, but to be safe I’m bringing my camera everyday next week. J

I am having quite possibly the funniest work day ever. My mom, dad, and I are all three way emailing and it is cracking me up. My mom just called me and couldn’t even talk. All she was doing was laughing, which made me bust out laughing- which was embarrassing because my office was quiet. Oh my gosh. I wish I could put the emails in here but I can’t. Trust me, I’m in tears from holding back hysterical laughter.

So that’s it for now.  Your walrus friend is going to get back to work.

There’s just something about hearing a British person talk that puts a pep in my step.There are a lot of British people in Kuwait. They are crawling around everywhere and it is so fun. I love it.

Something seems to happen to me whenever I’m around a Brit- I turn into a mesmerized idiot. Okay, not really, but on the inside I do. On the inside I am shyly giggling like a little seven year old that is meekly asking Mark B., the gorgeous 12 year old that sings in the “big kids choir,” for a bible bookmark because, “I said all this months memory verses by heart!”

Aren’t you impressed Mark?

It’s quite a strange phenomenon. I don’t know why I transform, but I do.

Whenever I talk to someone from the U.K. I am not fully involved in the conversation. They are talking, and the whole time I’ve got the girly laugh going on and I’m repeating their sentences in my head with my best mental British accent, constantly thinking, “I love this person!”

You could have two total idiots-one a Brit and one an American- around me for 2 hours, telling terrible jokes and asking annoying questions, and I would simply not hate the Brit as much as I would the American because of their freaking accent. What is up with that!?

Okay, I LOVE America- don’t think this is that sort of post.

It’s more of a “I am fascinated by the fact that ‘fit’ means cute, and when you wear pants that means you’re wearing underwear and when you’re wearing trousers you’re wearing pants, and every other fun little words and phrases they use that we have no clue about.

We really have more language differences than I would have thought. It’s so funny. I mean, I knew things were different, but I have to admit, I was a little red in the face when M asked me for a rubber a few weeks ago…

ERASER you crazy girls!

What were YOU thinking!?

Ha ha. Probably the same thing I was thinking… I took another British person and 2 Americans to convince me he didn’t want to violate me.

Ha.

Go figure.

Eraser.

Those Brits live in a totally unknown world to us. It’s like we’re peering into some ancient Incan ritual and they’re getting ready to strip us naked and play their time-old treasured game of flag pigbladder football, and we’re just nodding our heads with stupid smiles on our faces, pretending we know EXACTLY what is going on. I am terrible with the stupid smile and shake my head thing too, it’s so obvious I have no idea what I’m doing.

It’s freaking English! There should be no gap!

I do, however, argue we speak “American” in the states, and the more I’m around people from the U.K., the more I totally believe we do our own thing.

That brings me to tomorrow.

Tomorrow morning is my big hair appointment.

Now, I should say that my personal experience with the British majority here does not exactly reflect the way things are in reality. While my contact is frequent, it is mostly either work related or hair related. Also, I’m generalizing my hair experience here. I would hope if you went to a British salon in the U.K. things would be different than they are here.

The whole “getting your hair done process” is like a whole ordeal here. I go to pretty much the only place in the country that does blonde hair. It’s a depressingly overpriced “We can charge you whatever the heck we freaking want because we have a monopoly on all you dumb blondes so just shut up, sit in the chair, and stop complaining about the cost because if it wasn’t for us you’d have jacked up hair” British salon downtown.

I like where I go… I guess. I mean, considering I know they know what blonde highlights are and can actually do them.

I go to a beautiful British girl named Layla. She is super quiet (at least, when she is at work) and has awesome hair- which is something that is crucial in a stylist, right!? She has always done a really great job on my hair. I’m always really happy, even though it always looks the same (we’ll get to that later) I have to admit, though, the whole American/British hair experience here has been somewhat of a let down for several reasons:

1.Little Variety.

I can pretty much tell you exactly what my hair is going to look like this very instant.

All I have to do is show you a picture of my sister.

She just got her hair done there last week. I can almost guarantee that what Layla did to my sister, she will do to me. This is scary for a few more reasons. I will put these into subpoints.

A. The first thing I literally thought

when I say my sister’s hair was,

“Woahw.” Yeah- Woahw.. like Woah

with a big and emphasized

wwwww.

She had super ultra blonde hair. Like yellowish. I totally freaked out because after I thought, “Woahw!” I thought,

“Crap. I’m looking at a replica of myself in a few short days.” Just take her, add some weight and height, and I’m a walking sun beam, blinding the world one hair flip at a time.

Oh, and don’t worry about me offending my sister, she was shocked by her platinumness too. They pretty much do their own thing where we go. I am all worried about going tomorrow because- first of all I don’t want people’s reaction to be, “woahw!” When they see me, and secondly, I really want to look nice for Will because we have a night on the town for our anniversary!

However, I feel I will be radiating the “Woahw” effect tomorrow afternoon. I just know it. How terrible is it to KNOW you are going to freak yourself out everytime you look in the mirror because your hair could serve as a potential energy source because of it’s reflective appearance before you even go to the salon!?

That’s bad.

It’s like going to the the bathroom KNOWING you are going to walkout with your skirt tucked into your panty hose (good thing that one’s ever happened to me…do you believe me? You shouldn’t.)

B. Last time my sister went she asked

for a few low lights. Layla looked at

my sister like she was a total idiot

and told her, “We don’t do that here.”

Only it sounded so much more joyous and wonderful to hear, “No you idiot! What in the crap are you talking about!? Leave the hair stuff to a professional ‘we’re better than you’ Brit honey, pft” coming from a British person compared to just a normal American person like you or me. (It’s all in their awesome accent, I’m telling you).

See, no variety… and if you asked for something different I would be terrified they would jack it up and make it really extreme instead of just a subtle change.

For example, I decided I wanted some side bangs a few months ago. I asked Layla for this and she pulled a large chunk of my hair and was about to cut thick and short bangs all the way across. I totally freaked out.

“Wait!” I politely yelped, about to throw up from nervousness.

I tried to explain to her what I was wanting. She looked at me like a light bulb went on above her head and she asked me in her sweet British accent,

“Oh, do ya mean ya want fringe (you stupid no-nothing American)?”

“Yes! Fringe!” I exclaimed. I then wanted to say, “but because you talk awesome I’ll take the ugly bangs if that was your original plan.”

Little variety.

This is my greatest let down.

All 15 of us blondes in Kuwait are walking cookie-cutter versions of each other. Forget the fact that skin tone and all that other stuff play a role in what color your hair should be. Here, at the depressingly overpriced “We can charge you whatever the heck we freaking want because we have a monopoly on all you dumb blondes so just shut up, sit in the chair, and stop complaining about the cost because if it wasn’t for us you’d have jacked up hair” British salon downtown, it is one color fits all.

“Oh! You have skin close enough to match Casper or Morticia Addams Brittny!! That’s great! Why don’t I give you lightening bolt blonde hair so you look even more albino!!?”

Again, it sounds a lot better with their urban London accents.

If Letitia (my awesome stylist in the states) would have said that I would have responded with a huge, “NO!” in an instant, but when Layla says it I’m like, “hmmm, you really think so? Yeah, I liked Powder…”

2 No Conversation.

I hate that about where I go! I loved going to my stylist back home because she became my best friend for the afternoon. We could talk about everything. She is so easy going and it was always so much fun. It was like a condensed grade school slumber party minus the pillow fight, scary stories, and gorging of Twinkies.

At my current salon I am afraid to breathe, let alone talk. Everything is so British and “posh (as they say!)” and in. Here I am wanting to yak Layla’s ear with my terrible Oklahoma twang, and she is having pieces of foil handed to her by the little indentured servant slave girls.

Hmmm, it’s like the Clampetts go to the Beauty Salon when I go there or something. It’s the longest 2 hours of my entire life. Ever.

I look through their British magazines- and by the way- all they talk about are the Beckhams in those things! It drives me bananas!  B-A-N-A-N-A-S!!!

It’s like I have to consciously tell myself to shut up. She’ll ask me one question and it’s like a horse race with the announcer screaming, “And she’s off!” and I go on and on and then have to mentally stop and turn off the talking switch. It’s a bummer.

3. No clean brushes.

This is just plain ridiculous, and I don’t think it is a British thing- at least I hope it’s not!

I think it’s just a salon where I go to thing.

Apparently at the “We can charge you whatever the heck we freaking want because we have a monopoly on all you dumb blondes so just shut up, sit in the chair, and stop complaining about the cost because if it wasn’t for us you’d have jacked up hair” salon, they feel that since they are charging everyone their sister’s kidney as admission we all have hair made of gold and so no one’s hair has fault or dandruff.

Oh, and we don’t even want to mention the “L” word!! (lice, that is)

I cringe every time she pulls out her comb and goes to town. I mean, at least make it look like you clean them often! I saw one stylist pull out a wad of hair that was imbedded in a comb and just toss it back in the little drawer.

AGH. Can I please freak out now!? Maybe it’s BYOC or something… but I highly doubt. Yeah, that can’t be a British thing. It must just be my salon.

Another thing is that they don’t stick me under the dryer. I hate that. I’ve always gone under the dryer for as long as my little head has gotten “peroxided.” They don’t do that here.

The first time I got my hair done Layla set the timer and I asked,

“Where do you want me to go?”

She looked at me like she had no idea what to say,

“To the store?”

“To Starbucks?“

“To hell?”

Instead she just said, “What?” in her wonderfully refined accent.

“Do you want me to go to the dryer?”

She looked at me strangely and said, “No, you’re fine where you are.”

“Oh, okay.”

You’re British so even if you’re wrong (which you totally are!) you sound like you know what you’re talking about, therefore I’ll accept your answer.

Had enough yet?… Okay, I’ll be merciful and stop today.

So I think I can overlook most of these little oddities. I can’t however shake off the fact that tomorrow afternoon my hair will look like a cross between urine and a banana. It’s just one of those unsettling things, y’know!? I’ll be honest and say I’m used to my sister’s brightness now. It just took me a couple of times. Hopefully I’ll say the same thing after I get mine done.

Tomorrow, as I walk the Green Mile to Layla’s chair of fear, I’m sure I’ll smile, crying on the inside, and will fall prey to her charismatic accent.

Those freaking Brits with their fancy accents… I don’t stand a chance.

Hello Hello

Nothing great today, nothing at all. 

Really.

My boss has been out sick all week, so again I feel like a fish out of the aquariam, flopping around making small puddles, hoping that someone will put be where I belong. That is a whole post in itself, but I don’t feel like talking about that right now.

You’ll never guess what this guy said to me today! I thought I was going to lay on the floor and do 3 million crunches- after throwing up all over myself out of shock of course.

Okay, yesterday I met this guy my mom used to work with. He was nice, but had a strange sense of humor. Today my mom called me and told me he was going to stop by and drop something off that goes to her office. He came in and was nice and gave me what my mom needed, and

THEN…

THEN…

he told me I needed to go to the gym because my stomach was fat!!!

I gave him a look of shock and then he was like, “ ha ha, just kidding.”

First, I was totally mad that he would say that, and then- after the: “Who the crap does he think he is!? I am so going to buy a huge ice cream freaking sundae loaded with everything 3 times over and eat it in front of him, making disgusting noises and being sure to smear it all over my “fat stomach” while talking to “it” saying, “Does Brittny’s tummy like that!?” - I felt like crap!!

I can’t believe he had the audacity to say that to me. I wanted to shove my pen up his nose! I felt like one of those women that got asked when they were due when they were not pregnant at all.  I’m surprised another lady hasn’t killed him for being so blunt before today. What guy is stupid enough to say that!? He is obviously single still for a reason. I’m not fat at all, but I’m like most women that have areas I’d like to work on.  Anyway, that totally hurt my feelings! I think I’m still in shock.  I don’t even know what to think. Even if he was kidding (I don’t think he was), I don’t know him at all. I can’t believe he would say that. I’m sorry for obsessing over that, but I will be dwelling on that for the next 5 hours now. Wow. What a day. I can’t believe that!

I got my work email set up today! Yay! now I can get loads of emails from people telling me to do more work (total sarcasm in my excitement)! They flipping spelled my name wrong though. Brittney. I think there must be 13 different ways to spell my name. What is hilarious is that I spelled it out letter by letter to them as they were creating my account, yet they still missed it.

Amazing.

I usually don’t care at all because there are As and Es and Is inserted to my name all the time, but I thought it might get confusing to have the correct spelling on everything else and then the wrong spellling on my email. I feel bad for all you ladies that have crazy long last names. I’m sure they get spelled wrong all the time. I think after a certain point I would just be like, “yeah...whatever… that’s me.”

Like I said, pretty boring day.

I’m beginning to feel like sleep has become a waste. “Why bother,” I think, “I just have to get up in 4 hours anyway!”

Okay, I NEED sleep. In fact, on weekends I could be compared to a cat. I could sleep all day, but lately the idea of sleep jut ticks me off. That sounds so weird, but that was the very first thing I thought as I heard the alarm this morning. I seriously thought, “It’s like it [sleep] didn’t even matter.”

Will started his new schedule this week and it is excruciating. He works 4 14 hour days, PLUS lunch and a 3 hour drive (total time), so it works out to being at work 18 hours. Plus, he’s in the middle of no where. The “desert gem” camp (HAHA), where there is nothing but hot wind, lots of blowing sand, and big tents (I haven’t been there, I think there may be a few buildings set up, but mostly not). I think that adds to the misery and makes the days drag even longer.

He got home late last night, looking like he had been punched in both eyes. They were all black and droopy. After he said hello he said, “I have to do this all over again in 6 hours.” He took a quick shower and fell into bed fast asleep.That boggles my mind. He seriously did have to get up and do the same thing 6 hours later. I know tons of people do this everyday, but I am not used to it yet. There is no time for anything.

Sleep is just not long enough. I get up at 3:20 every morning. I had to tinkle at midnight last night (the old woman bladder thing), and usually I would think, “Ahhh, 6 and a half more hours of sleep.” Instead I got a sinking feeling in my stomach knowing I only had 3 hours and I grumbled the whole way to the bathroom and back, and then irritatingly went back to my “nap.” That’s sort of what it feels like (a nap). I know we are working towards a goal. I have to meditate on that each day and ask God to carry us through, but I have had such a shock getting used to the loooong days.

Sleep is just enough to make me mad now! I’m sure a lot of you all can relate.

The lady I’m riding with works 12 hours (that includes lunch), so I have to sit and wait for her another hour after I get off before we go home, which gets me there at 7. It has been frustrating. All I want to do is eat dinner, take a shower, and go to bed! I’m hoping when we move I’ll be able to find someone that goes in at 6 and leaves at 5. PLEASE!!

Anyway, that’s enough about sleep.  It’s just going to take time getting adjusted to the long days and the hot sun. My body tells my it is time to go home and see Will around 4:30, but I still have 3 hours to go (that includes a drive home). My body tells me it’s lunchtime at 9:00 since I ate breakfast at 4:15. (that may just be me though. I can eat at anytime, which is a problem!)

I’m all out of wack. I am going to have to adjust myself to this new schedule, especially Will’s long days (I think that’s the 3rd time I said that!). That will take some getting used to. I felt bad last night because I missed him so much that when he walked in the door, seriously exausted, I attacked him with excitement and love and lots and lots of chatter and questions. I know I probably bombarded him, but as I said earlier this is a new schedule for both of us and I’m used to having a few awake hours with him at night, but now I just have the sleeping hours! 

Thank God for my mom. She has picked me up everyday this week. If she didn’t I would get home an hour later. It has been nice because I am so close to their apartment, but when I move, I won’t have anyone to take me home on time, which will be very depressing. that means if my ride stays an hour of over time, I have to too. Kind of sucks. She picked me up again tonight because in the middle of the afternoon my ride told me, “by the way, you need to find a different way home.”

Great.

It’s not that easy because I really don’t know anyone here yet, so finding rides has been a huge pain. My boss is supposed to coordinate all that, but from what I’ve seen you’re on your own a lot. Sigh…

I know Will won’t be here until late, but I can get everything ready for tomorrow so when he finally does come home and is awake for 15 minutes, I will cherish it.
**********
As for other things… Today I saved Kuwait. Okay, so that is a HUGE exaggeration, but let me say it anyway. I went to the bathroom this morning and as I turned the knob on the facet to wash my hands, the whole handle broke off in my hand. The water was on full blast and splashing up on me as I tried to think what I should do.

This place is a ghost town in the morning. I was on my own. I was thinking, “I could just walk out and leave the water- an important thing in the desert- keep flowing none the wiser to what had just happened.” I’m sure most people that truly know me would agree I’m good at being oblivious. “Or, I could figure out how to fix the faucet, being the skilled plumber I am.” I tried to screw the handle on, only for it to fall off. The water is continuing to splash all over me, but I was in plumbing mode. Nothing was going to stop me from fixing that freakin’ faucet handle. I try just pushing it on, only for it not to fit. Then I start my goofy worrying, “What if I can’t fix it!?” I would feel so bad if it ran for an hour or two until someone finally came to fix it. What if Kuwait ran out of water and then they were on a hunt to find the person that drained the reserves!? They would find me, tucked behind my desk contently looking at a book, having no clue I was about to be taken in for questioning. Okay, obviously I was overreacting big time, but I did sort of amuse myself with the above thoughts as I struggled to force the stupid handle on the attachment thingy (such great plumbing jargon). 

After a couple of minutes it almost became fun, like a frustrating puzzle that would feel so great to finally solve. I did some more twisting and placing and whatever else and it finally snapped into the right screw or whatever and shut the water off. What a good feeling. I looked at myself in the mirror and gave an approving nod, as if I was doing it to someone other than myself or something (what a dork). I dried my pants off and made sure I had no plumber’s crack (okay, stupid, I know. I’m just kidding), and went out the door. I thought about checking to see if it worked, but I was sure it would only hold up another time or two. Oh well, at least I tried and the water won’t run out.

I felt pretty proud of the minor “nothing” I had done this morning, so please just let me bask in the moment. I have had few highlights to my days since I’ve started working, so I have to look for the little things.

I went back to the bathroom this afternoon and the stupid facet was back in the sink. So much for my amatuer plumbing. Oh well.

Anyway, I’m about to take the day off and get totally ready for bed so when Will comes we can have a little while to talk.

Have a good afternoon! <3

Are there any constant key losers in the group?

Please stand up.

Anyone that has after getting in the car has to frustratingly get out to make sure both the curling iron AND iron are turned off?

You’re welcome too.

I have serious problems. I am calling on the creative Nesties to create a trend so I can overcome this terrible annoyance.

I think I lose or forget to do something on an everyday basis. I whine, “I lost my chapstick!” to Will at least 3 times a week. I am constantly having to be reminded, “Did you have the keys?”

” Are you sure?“

“Show them to me.“

It really gets on my nerves when Will does this. I almost always have to physically have to show him the keys or money or whatever before we leave. It really aggravates me, but I have given him EVERY reason in the world to have to do this, so I figure until I can be a “big girl” and remember the simplest things, he probably is justified in asking me to show him where my money is and that it is zipped up, or where my keys are.

You win Will.

Yesterday topped it all. I will officially for the rest of my life have to surrender the, “Show it to me” crap.

I’ll be honest, a lot of times if he doesn’t ask me to show him the keys or whatever else and just says, “Are you sure?” I will just say yes so we can get a move on. Yes, I’m not the brightest blonde in the bunch.

I did my “checks” before we left.

“Do you have a key?”

“Yes.”

“Money?”

“Yes.”

“Phone?”

“Yes.”

(I really did have those things)

So, we head out and go to Buffalo’s for lunch. We had an enjoyable time, and then it was time to go. I get my stuff together and of course get my, “Are you sure you have everything, Britt?” question (I sound like an OLD lady don’t I!!?). I do my passing, “Yes, Will,” without looking, which I’m sure was my demise.

We then head to Marina Mall to catch a movie. We got to the theatre and Will reminds me to turn my phone on silent (I really DO sound like an old lady!!). I start searching through my abyss of a purse…

“Where is that stupid thing?”

Nothing.

I pull everything out of my purse and can’t find it. I was sick. Not the best weekend in the world to lose a phone.

It was gone.

After the movie we went back to Buffalo’s, though I didn’t expect anyone to fess up if it had been left. It’s amazing how much trouble you can get into if you steal something, but a lot of the third country workers do it anyway. I went in, and of course it wasn’t there.

I was so mad at myself.

Will was pretty mad at me too. It was more of that terrible parental disappointment. I got the “irresponsible talk“ the whole way home, which didn’t make me feel any better because I was already mad at myself and didn’t really feel like hearing Mr. Responsible’s take on my carelessness.

We got home, and I tried to call my number, hoping someone would answer. Nope.

I went in the bedroom and plopped on the bed. I knew Will was still upset with me because now we would have to buy a new phone when it could have been avoided, but he was pretty merciful. He took me in his arms, and while I knew he was upset with my constant “scatterbrainedness,“ he told me it would be okay and he would buy me a new phone today, and not only that but he would get me the exact same one I had before (which was a little pricey). for some reason I felt worse! What a dork. I guess I felt like I should get a piece of crap phone this time just for like a probationary thing or something, but my sweet husband, annoyed with me as he was, is going to take care of me.

So that’s good. It really sucks that I have to get a whole new number and stuff now though, and all my important numbers were in my other phone. Grrr. The way 98% of cell phones work here is that you buy a phone, get a chip from the one cell phone company that is here, and then you use prepaid phone cards. So my phone is not only gone, but my chip and number and everything else is gone. You can’t cancel your service here.

Anyway, I am now convinced I need someone to design me something fashionable that is able to have my phone or chapstick or whatever the case may be attached to my clothing or purse or something!!!!!

Any ideas?

Maybe I need to have someone constantly with me making sure I have everything with me...wait… that’s Will’s job, and we see how great that worked.

How can I be so flipping in my own world? Not like a stuck up in my own world, but just thinking about tons of stuff and wondering about things and looking at the flowers on my way out the door…

Only me I guess.

If you watched The Apprentice this past season I was thinking I needed to enlist the group that made pockets to hold ipods in the American Eagle clothes to design something comparable for me. I may not be joking.

Anyway, I get sad on Fridays because my weekend is almost over and yours is about to begin. Nonetheless have a great Friday!

Do you have your keys?

Your money?

Your phone?

Anything else important?

When I told Will what I was going to title this post he gave me a disapproving look, but I just had to do it.

Lucky for me he doesn’t read, but I’ll apologize nonetheless.

Sorry Willy.

Have you ever had a phase or period in your life when everyday the alarm goes off, and you are in the early stages of alertness, you rub your sleepy eyes and think, “I wonder what thing will morph into an incredibly diabolic mess today?“

Maybe not, but I’m sure you’ve had a day or two when you’ve woke to feel that.

Welcome to the last few months of this crazy girl’s life.

Okay, I shouldn’t say everything is going straight to hell. God has truly blessed us, but if you’ve followed me for a while you know things haven’t gone as smoothly as one would like- such is life I guess.

Well, today I woke up thinking, “YAY! moving day!!“

I annoyingly said this exact phrase every half hour on the dot. I really drove Will crazy. I continued to prance around and express my jubulation all morning.

We got around and got our first trip of stuff ready to go. We got there and decided to check out the place before we lugged our life upstairs. As we got out of the car I did a dorky little jump, grabbed Will’s hand and said- and I quote:

“Yay Will! We’ve waited sooo long for this moment and it’s FINALLY here! We get to be married again and have our very own beautiful apartment! Yay for moving day!“

A dead woman’s last words.

We got to our apartment, opened the door and got the shock of our lives. Things get fuzzy from here. I think I seriously hit the floor, but I can’t be too sure. Will had to pry my eyelids open and bribe me with a Snickers bar so I would not stay in the hallway, unwilling to go a step farther.

I’m such a freakin’ sucker for chocolate. What’s wrong with me. It honestly would have been better for me to have stayed where I was.

PAUSE: Okay, before I give you the good stuff let me explain how this stuff works. When a person moves out they are supposed to get everything inventoried and have an inspection- both of which did not happen in this case.

Okay, back to the story.

At this point it was just kind of like, okay pick the room you want to throw up in because you will seriously be sick at the sight.

I picked the WRONG room.

I picked the kitchen.

There is something crucial about the kitchen. It is one of those rooms that HAS to be clean. I don’t care if you are the slobbiest person in the world and sit around in a moo moo slathering Betty Crocker frosting on graham crackers all day with your 52 cats and 13 birds- you MUST keep your kitchen clean. There are a million reasons why this is a required rule written into law, but that may have to be saved for another post.

So, I went into the kitchen first. The floor was sticky and disgusting. My shoes were stuck to the floor and made that terrible Riiiip sound as I tried to pick my feet up to walk. Yum. I wonder what deliciously dried puddle of crap I just stepped in. There were dishes still in the sink. Cups full of only our Lord knows what on the counter. Sticky crap latched onto the stove. Get THIS!! There was crap all on the CEILING!! HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN!? How in the world can so much crap get stuck there? Is this Pippy Longstalkings where they hung out on the walls and made dinner from the ceilings or something!? “Hey sweetie! Throw some ketchup up here! Let’s see if I can squirt it into the pan!!“ The fridge, once white, was smeared with brown handprints and had a yellowish tinge. The kicker was that there was rotting food in the fridge as well as on the floor next to the fridge. Dinner at my place next week ladies!!

I wish you all could have been there with me because my descriptions DO NOT do it justice. It was like the Fiji fraternity had their national convention at our apartment.

I should have just walked out right there, but Will made me go farther in so we could make sure we could see what else was wrong before we called someone. Not a great idea sweetie.

There was nasty food glued to the furniture. I said refried beans, Will said pudding. You KNOW it’s bad when you can’t even decide WHAT is stuck to the furniture you will soon be plopping down on in just a few hours (YUCK! I can’t believe we are going to live there!).

There was food ground into the carpet, which was stained brown because of the filth. There was food attached to the coffee table. It was not going anywhere. It was stuck to that freakin’ table like Britney to Kevin. Her lovely shower cap and a slew of trash we left sprawled in one of the bathrooms. It was just horrifying. Think Amityville but kick it up a notch.

Things were flat out bad. I could give you all a room by room analysis, but I think you get the point and I honestly don’t have the time to do it justice.

We seriously got screwed. We called the housing lady, which I totally love, and she was very aplogetic. She said things would be taken care of within 3 days. I know she will do her best, but the problem is that I think she is going to make the lady clean the place herself, which never quite works out because when you are cleaning something that is not yours anymore you don’t do as good of a job as if it were yours. Am I making sense? What they REALLY need is a team of engineers to overhaul the entire place and steamclean every room from top to bottom. Another problem is that we were given this day to move, which was an inconvenience to those we work with, especially those who work with Will because they are in the process of moving to a new camp. This deplorable mess has inconvienced a lot more people than just us (not to mention my parents that got the call this afternoon and had to hear, “We’re baaaack.”)

I was very upset. I want to go on about the whole ordeal, but I should probably start to wrap things up.

I think what bothers me the most is that the place is beyond unacceptable. I don’t think I’d even let someone I didn’t like stay there. I am sick with the whole problem.

I think what makes me the maddest is the fact that we still have to live there. Yeah Yeah, I know they are going to clean it, but there are somethings I KNOW they will not clean properly, like the furniture (she’ll probably just do a “half-arse“ job to make it look decent), and this is the furniture we will be sitting on, the bed we will be sleeping in- it just disgusts me to think. I get mad thinking that I KNOW I will have to go behind this lady once we FINALLY do get to move in and clean the place the way it needs to be.

I was very disappointed. I’ve been very impressed with the way they have set up the rooms for newcomers I had seen before, so this was an utter shock. The housing lady is so great, so I know someone is going to get in trouble, but that doesn’t help us now.

Do I have some aura around me that yells, “Let’s see what makes the nice girl not nice!! Let’s make a game out of it!“

So this afternoon we are going to meet my mom at the apartment so she can see it, not that we need someone to validate the filthy conditions, just so she can get pissed off too I guess. She is bringing her digital camera, I’m sure we’ll capture some beautiful shots of our first apartment in Kuwait. heh.

Sorry for the vent session. I was so looking forward to this day, and now who knows when we will get to move. It has been quite a shocking day, and now with our schedules I’m not really sure when things will get fixed and when we will get to move in.

ARGHHHHH.

So, back to the current living status. Business as usual indefinitely.

I may post the pictures at the apartment later, but not really sure.

All I have to freaking say is that I better have cheered SOMEONE up out there today that was having a bad day by telling today’s crazy story.

<3

Today is long! I went on entirely too long, and I even cut some stuff out!This is pretty much a minute by minute recap of my whole trip, just so I can look back and tell myself I didn’t totally hate my first few months here, so I’m sorry it if is mind numbing today!

August 27, 2005

I’m beyond angry right now. Will and I “splurged” and got the internet in our room, but it won’t let me post. How irritating.

I’m fully convinced that the first few hours of a vacation are crucial in a relationship. The first few hours set the tone for the first day, and maybe even the whole trip!

Okay, like- how did you wake up? Was it super early and you both stayed up too late cramming the shirt that you HAD to have but will probably never wear into you over-packed suitcase?

Are you running late and rushed? This could create attitude conflicts.It could also leave Will very annoyed, and if we’re both late, it just puts everyone in a bad mood!

Is it hot (this is my issue)? Are you waiting outside with the luggage (after being rushed) with the sun pounding on your head while your husband goes out back to get the car!? Being hot puts me in a terrible mood. It is crucial that I do not let it get to me during the “mood setting” hours.

What about the drive there? This can be just as important as climate for setting the vacation aura. Is your spouse driving like the plane leaves in 20 minutes, leaving your body to be pressed against the seat because of all the G Forces? “We have to make good time!” We have to make what!? We are leaving 2 hours early. I would say that can be considered “good time.”

What about missing your exit?

Twice.

“Sorry. I can’t believe I did that… again.” (but I’ll make up for it by driving my Camry like it’s a Vet).

Also, how far away are you parking? The closer the better… but this rule was thrown out today. “I LOVE lugging my bag 4.5 miles to the entrance.” These are all crucial factors.

Will: “Do you know where to check in?”

Brittny: “Yeah, I think it’s over there.”

Will: walking a different way than “there.“

“I thought you said you knew where we were going.”

“I DID! You went a different way!”

All of these factors, occurring in the beginning hours of a trip have the potiential to set the vacation momentum. These were the many factors Will and I faced this morning, and although there was opportunity to get snippy, we did very well.

I did, however get the “talk” about being more responsible and not so careless. I then got defensive and went on and on about how responsible I was… only to unknowingly have my ticket fall out of my lap and onto the floor as I “carefully” headed to the bathroom none the wiser. Thank goodness for Will! So much for being responsible.

I think “early vacation momentum stress” is a universal thing, and after watching other couples while we waited for our plane, I quickly learned that vacation tension knows all regions. I couldn’t understand a single word these couples were saying, but I didn’t need to. The nonverbals said it all. My best bet was that she was running late this morning, making him mad. He said something stupid about it, and she unleashed on him- probably about all his annoying habits, like leaving his full of stains dish dash (their long white robe- not positive on the spelling) on the floor, and never putting the lid down when he used the bathroom. I was glad that Will and I had made it through vacation round one unscathed.

***You go through a million metal detectors in the Kuwait airport, but I’m totally convinced that you could load your pockets with coins and your carry on with Swiss army knives and they’d never say a thing. I watched at 3 different spots how the x-ray watcher guy payed little attention, and how at one he was busy talking to someone as bags slid on through.

“Kuwait Air: Keeping you Safe One Metal Detector at a Time.“

So today Will and I flew on the best airline either of us had been on- remember it was one of the three 5 star airlines. ha ha. Anyway, Qatar air was very enjoyable , and I can see why it ranked so high. They didn’t play scary music, like Kuwait Air which was an instant plus. They had flat screens on every other seat, so that was nice. I do have to say, the snack was a let down. I guess they were too fancy for the simple Oklahomns.

After our short flight, I was once again greeted by the friendly lady that said “Welcome to Qatar where it is humid as a rainforest and hot as hell.” She wasn’t kidding. We got our stuff and got a taxi. So far, I have to say Qatar beats Kuwait. They have lush green grass everywhere. It is so beautiful. Doha, Qatar is truly an oasis in the desert. They are gearing up for the Asian Games next fall, so stuff is going up everywhere.

*** Well, as I had said earlier, our hotel was more expenxisive than we would have liked (little sidenote: this is a trip I have to take, so it wasn’t a planned vacation or anything and it wasn’t something we were financially planning for. So while this is a trip for us, it is actually something I had to do and learned about a week ago. The trip away with Will is just the bonus). There were limos and BMW 700 series pulling up to let off guests, and here comes me and Will, rollin’ up in our tiny Honda taxi.

We clearly stand out as we walk in. There are lots of older Westerns, and Arabs, but then here comes the young and Casper white Will and Brittny! I wanted to stay, “Yes, we are in the right place! Stop staring!” We get our stuff and ask a few questions and head to our room.

We get there and I have to go to the bathroom-bad (the fact that I have a bladder the size of an 80 year old doesn’te help the matter). I try to turn on the lights but nothing happens. Will and I try over and over, flipping the switch real fast, then real slow, and a million other techniques (yeah, because it’s all in the tecnhique… if a light doens’t turn on, you just flip the switch differently and it will work) to no avail.

“Surely they aren’t all burned out!”

This goes on for like 5 minutes and finally we, the young Clampett Americans call for help. Apparently you have to insert your card key in this slot fot the lights to work.

What you you doing! Are you just making up stupid stuff to look fancy!? Well, you look fancy and we look stupid! What a dumb idea- stick you card there and the lights work. They obvisouly don’t know I’m the most scatterbrained person in the world and there is no way I will remember to take my key with me unless its in my purse, and not in some “make the lights work in the bathroom” slot.

Enough about that! Our room is very nice.

I totally had a food crisis the first 10 minutes here. There is a yummy basket of fruit, calling to me on the table. I say, “I think it’s free.” Will says, “I think it’s not.” Go figure we would say different things.

Did I say we looked too young to be here? Maybe it’s too unrefined, though I think we know our etiquette and manners.

I text P and all she writes back is: LMAO! Call the front desk! Right. So they can hang up and say, “You’ll never guess what the Americans in 111 just said!” So, the fruit thing is up in the air, but I think I’m toing to have an apple anyway. I’ll show them!

Today was mostly spent getting here and figuring out the internet in out room. It’s from our tv, so it can’t do everything a a computer can- like post! The main reason we got it was for Will’s fantasy draft (talk about timing- in all the weeks out of the year our random trip and fantasy draft fall together). Will spent a chunk of the afternoon on our draft, which kind of put me in a bad mood. I felt bad because our “first hours momentum” kept getting better, and then it came to a stop. I really did need to shut my mouth, but it was too late. Like I said, I needed to realize our $ situatuion for this trip, plus the fact that this draft is so important to Will- maybe even more important since we are so far away from football this year. Anyway, that was a litlle hiccup.

After Will did fantasy stuff the plan was to go to Arbys and a grocery store to pick up water. We went down to ask about a taxi, and all the hotel provides were limos, which is not really how we wanted to spend out money. Talking taxis was a mess. “No thank you. We don’t want a limo. We just want a taxi,” we said a million times.

What we should have been saying was, “Look. We don’t want your freakin’ limo! We are on a budget and want a piece of crap to drive us around. Do you think you can find a piece of crap!?”

We ended up going with this rental service in the hotel and had the guy drop us off at the City Center, where we could do everything we needed. The City Center is the largest mall in the Middle East, and the 7th largest in the world. It was great. We mostly just went to say we have been there. There is an ice rink on the bottom floor, which is funny to think that in the middle of the desert there is ice. I guess you all need to own up to your, “when hell freezes over” bets, because it has happened! Kuwait has one too, but I’ve never seen it. 

We walked around a little. We went to the third floor there where was a movie theatre and little amusement park and got dinner, and then desert at TCBY. We walked around and slowly made our way to the grocery store. That was semi-stressful!

First off, I find one or two grocery stores I line and that is where I always go. because I know where eveyrthing is. Going here was all new! Plus it was super busy, which didn’t help as I bumped into everyone and their five children. “I just want some granola bars and some water!!!! That’s it! Is that to much to ask! Why don’t you label your aisles!!“ That is what I wanted to scream after about 10 minutes.

We got our stuff and grabbed a taxi and went back to the hotel. I got around for bed and put on their fluffy, cushy robe and decided that no matter what the real purpose of this trip- business or pleasure, I am going to have a good time.

August 28, 2005

This morning I woke up to a major surprise! A huge head of curly hair! Ugh. I tried so hard to make sure it would stay straight- to no avail. It is so humid everywhere. Our sunglasses are constantly fogging from walking inside to outside. Will and I got around and ordered room service for lunch. It was really good and I’m glad we did. I was starving and totally attacked my sandwich. Poor thing.

After that , Will got online to check his draft while I sat around. We have a tour of the city scheduled for 3, so hopefully it will be fun.

** Back again! Our tour was pretty cool. It was supposed to be 4 hours, but we cut it down to 2- thankfully! I think Will would have died! The emir of Qatar is trying to give his country lots of good PR. I mean, how many people can point to a blank map and find Qatar? His goal is to make Qatar a country people know, hence the good airline and hosting the Asain games.

750,000 people live in Qatar, and only 250,000 of them are Qataris! How crazy! The rest are TCNs, like in Kuwait. They are also rich because of oil. One liter of gas costs you 25 cents! Doesn’t that make you sick!?

Unlike Kuwait, drinking is allowed here- only in the desert and hotels. How they moniter this… I have no idea. The driving is just as bad- just imagine Kuwait, with a few drinks knocked back.

Horse and camel racing are a big deal here, and another propular pastime is falcon hunting. They take the falcons in the desert to hunt for game. They are very expensive and can cost up to $20,000! The guide took us to a falcon souq. It was so incredible! There were about 25 falcons, and they all had eyecovers on so they weren’t disctracted. They were hooked on perches, but totally out in the open. I asked for a picture, and this old man, clad in his dish dash and red headcover (meaning he had been to Mecca) went up on the platfrom where the falcons were and told me and Will to get up there and take our picture! It was so crazy! I was less than a foot form these powerful birds and it was amazing.

After that they took us to the camel market. The are popular for racing, but they are also eaten, especially during Rammadan. We saw a million other things, but I am getting tired of writing!

Tonight we decided to be lazy and get comfy. We ordered room service and watched You’ve Got Mail for the millionth time. The fruit thing is still up in the air, but tomorrow I think I’m going to make it my breakfast. Its not like its caviar or something! Its a Lebanese banana!

August 29, 2005

I had a good day today! I wish vacation lasted forever. I wish everyday was vacation. People may say, “Well then is it really vacation?” I’m willing to find out.

Will and I woke up about the same time and left the lights off. He checked his league, while I lay in bed wishing I could go back to sleep.

We ate a late breakfast.. and I ended up being a “rebel” and having a banana out of “the” frust basket. ha ha. what a goof.

We watched some TV and finally decided to get around. We called a “normal people” taxi to take us to the city center just to get out and about.

They have about a thousand athletic clothing/shoe stores, and about a million baby clothing/furniture/everything else your kid needs stores. I guess that’s because all women do here is reproduce 5 kids and then spend the rest of their lives chasing their little ones around, hence the demand for atheletic shoes.

I saw the funniest thing and am kicking myself that I didn’t get a picture! They have an abbaya Barbie! I love Barbie, and collected them up until my 2nd year of college (totally dork, I know). Maybe I should clairfy- I didn’t play with them, I just collected some of them… am I making sense? I probably sound totally weird. I hope you know what I mean! Anyway… back to the matter at hand...She had her long, black outfit, but she also came with a “regular” outfit- with a head scarf to go with it of course! Pretty crazy. I always wanted the teacher or singer or model Barbie. These girls want the Barbie with the stroller included (totally joking). I guess that is a cultural thing, and the way different groups are taught.

We ended up watching Bewitched in their theatre. The “new” movies in Qatar are just as behind as in Kuwait. I think Will may have fallen asleep through it. It was pretty cheesy, but cute. I love Nicole Kidman. After the movieI drove Will crazy for the next half hour twitching my nose and tugging my ear, and making the sound effects whenever Samantha moved her nose. After the move we had dinner… and TCBY. As I was walking ot the table I got a text telling me my visa was in. I was excited, but my elation quickly turned to reality. “It’s here.” I am officially required to be a responsible adult. My puppy dog days are over. :(

We walked around some more and decided to get a taxi and head to the hotel. As we waited Will looked at me in utter disgust and said, “You have a booger hanging out of your nose.”

Great. Thanks sweetie for the sickly look.

“It’s one of those that you can’t fix until you get alone.” Even better.

I got my mirror out and he was totally right. Something about living in the desert makes the whole nose situation very bad. I won’t gross you all out.

I tried sniffing really hard… nothing. I did this for 3 or 4 minutes as Will aimlessly tried to get us a taxi.

“It’s because I have a booger huh!!!?”

We waited and waited (good thing it wasn’t humid or hot or anything! <--- sarcasm!!)

Finally 2 pull up. A nice one, and one that looks like 30 drunk Qataris piled in and decided to take this tiny 1980 toyota camel tipping.

It, of course, stops for us.

It was because of my snot. I’m totally convinced.

Do we have an aura that screams we are hicks from Oklahoma or something!? Did our hotel send you as a joke!?

We hop in and I begin praying. As we are listening to Britney Spear’s “Toxic“, the only think I keep thinking about was that she must have written this song after riding in this orange taxi and breathing the stench. I will now forever associate this song with tonight’s ride.

As I tried to buckle up I realized Safety is about as important as writing your favorite detergent company to tell them how great they make your clothes smell… it’s that big a deal here.

I pull and pull and get nothing but a small strap. The buckle is trapped somwehere. I am panicking! I don’t want to die in a toxic orange taxi!

I thought I’d say something, but he was driving like a bat out of hell and the strange crackling and ricketing sounds from the bottom of the car- probably very important parts- were deafening and I’m sure if I would have said something he wouldn’t have cared anyway. I stick my arm in the strap- because that was going to hold me in if something happened!

What a ride.

I do have to say it was our cheapest ride yet.

I wonder why…

So, tomorrow ends our trip. Sigh.

I start my new life Sunday. Sigh.

At least I’ll have a few days to get myself together.

August 30,2005

Last night I could hardly breathe before finally drifting to sleep. I kept waiting for the front desk to call saying there was a disturbance.

I lay there, flat on my back, my eyes wide open, staring at the blank ceiling.

You would have thought I robbed a bank or something and I drove to the nearest warehouse to wait out the search.

Will and I are typically not extremely unruly or overly loud love makers. I guess you could put it this way: we wouldn’t be the ones you’d whisper about at the neighborhood association meetings. I don’t know if it was the fact that for the last 3 1/2 months we have had to play “beat the clock my parents are in the kitchen and can probably hear,” or the fact that it was the last day of vacation andwe were going to have to go back to living with my parents and being sneaky,(I think it was the first factor), but we morphed into different people or something. We weren’t “yelly” or anything, but around midnight the wall against our bed took a beating, leaving our neighbors to pound back on the wall- I’m sure that is a universal “shut up” signal.

I was freaked out that the “Holy Muslim Police” were going to storm our room last night and make Will and I stay in different places. Today it sounds funny and silly, last night I was freaking out!

* * *

So, our trip is over. So sad. I am totally resolved to believe end of vacation attitudes are just as crucial as the start of vacation momentum. We woke up fine and called in b-fast- and I ate way too much. We casually got around and did our room check- 4 times.

“Are you sure you have everything, Britt? We won’t be able to come back if you forget something. Did you check the bathroom?

The table?

The… the.. the..”

He does this a million times because he is convinced I will realize something I forgot- me being the scatterbrained one. The joke was on him today though.

We left the hotel and caught a taxi- much better than last night’s.

I totally cracked up on the way to the airport. They were playing filthy music- with the “F” work as the main noun, verb, adjective and everything in between. Amazing. They won’t show a kissing scene in the public movie theatre, and you can’t wear shorts, but you can say the F bomb all day long. Only in the Middle East. The FCC would have had a heart atatck had that been said in America. How funny.

We got to the airport-the super tiny Doha airport, and grapped a seat to wait to check in.

I thought I was at a college frat party after about 5 minutes. There were 3 older men, clad in togas!! How crazy! Were they being serious? I think they might have been. I didn’t know people still wore togas!

I was waiting any second for 30 fat guys with huge beer bellies to roll in a keg and a funnel, and start taking body shots off the women- all vieled and in their black abbayas. ha ha. What a strange thought.

We had been sitting for a few minutes when my daily birth control alarm went off on my phone (did I way I was scatterbrained? These last 3 months of being “scheduleless” have left me so forgetful that I have to remind myself to breathe). Anyway, all of a sudden Will asks, “Where’s my phone?”

Great.

Mr. Responsible forgot something. Who knows what I’ve left behind. We begin searching. Here is a good rule to live by: if you search for something for longer than 15 minutes- there is a good chance it is not in the spot you are searching.

Then, the “male” in Will comes out and he tries to put it all on the bonde. Ha- I don’t think so!

“I really thought I handed it to you.”

“No, Will. You didn’t.”

“Check your purse again.”

My purse can barely hold tic-tacs- your phone is not there!

We search more and finally Will says “I have to go back.”

I don’t like “I.”

“I” is bad. It refers to one person- not “we.” He is basically telling me, “sit here with the toga guy and make sure our bags are okay while I go back to the hotel to find my phone.”

I was so nervous to be left alone with the ancient frat boys. I thought I was going to have to purchase a bag of Depends. I did just fine, though I did sit next to a pair of 5 year old twins that made me reconsider my entire opinion of children all together.

Will came back , phoneless, so that was a disappointment. I know he was sort of bummed about it because not only was he going to have to hear about it, but he was also going to have to pay for it. I decided not to give him the responsible talk.

We sat around the airport for a while and ate at A&W… and then TCBY… again (we don’t have on herein Kuwait). After that we went to our gate- but I first had to go through a metal detector. I had went through the first one just fine- actually, I set it off and no one said a word! That makes you feel good! I wasn’t joking about no one paying attention!

Anyway, I walked through this time and it went off and the army guy- who didn’t speak english, angrily said, “go.”

Go? Where?

He motioned towards this cold steel door.

“Go.”

Holy crap. What is behind that door!? Are they going to strip search me? I really don’t want to go behind the door . God help us all.

I went in and this old lady frisked me and used a hand held detector- it was my belt. I could have told her that, but she was the “behind the steel door” metal nazi, so I just shut up and let her do her job. I’m glad that is over.

We got to our gate and hung around. We finally were able to board. It is so amazing here. They don’t have terminals since the airport is so small, so they bus everyone out to the plane. You would have thought the people flying with us were told there was an all you can eat buffet on the plane because they were pushing and shoving like not only was there a buffet, but it was also free. It was frustrating but sort of humerous.

After we fought our way to our seats- we breathed a sign of relief. Sort of. We were in the very back of the place and were the only westerners in a 20 seat radius. The plane was hot and it smelled terrible. I had flashbacks to “toxic” and my night in the taxi. It was pretty gross. All Will kept saying was, “This is so ghetto.” He was pretty accurate. thankfully it is a short flight. I wished we would have flew Kuwait Air to Doha and Qatar air on the way back… wishful thinking.

We got in and I got my visa stamped and everything else I had to do. The Gauntlet wasn’t too bad tonight. It was a nice change. I am always expexcting pandemonium so was surprised last night.

We got in to find out a million morsels of crappy news, but I won’t get into everything because it will take way to long and I’ve talked way to much about stupid things that don’t really matter that much! So, that was our trip. you probably feel like you went along you know so much. I guess I overdid it a bit. That shouldn’t be a surprise though.

Thanks for sticking through! Have a great day. <3

Out of frustration I had to stop what I was doing and post.

Sort of a blah post today.

I guess I am obsessed now to the point where posting has become theraputic. Whatever the case may be, I had a headache starting to spread throughout my entire head and I had to stop and breathe and just vent in a post.

The last three months have been far from stressful in terms of having things to do, yet they have been stressful in other ways. I am learning how to deal with this kind of stress, but today I was confronted with “normal people’s” life stress and it was like, “What is this!?” I guess I’ve forgotten that sort of stress.

Welcome back.

Where do I start? The events don’t tie together, but I just felt like writing about them. They all don’t have to do with stress, but I guess that is how I’m how I’m feeling right so maybe I will start with that. Hmmm. Am I being confusing? Maybe. I apologize. I guess I just need to get a thousand things out and I don’t know where to begin piecing everything.

Okay.

Maybe I should start with last night. I have been totally void of “HEI” for the last 3 months. Let me clarify. HEI. Human Environment Interaction. My 7th grade geography teacher would have been proud that I actually remembered a concept. I’m sure all she remembers about me was that I used to flirt with William W. during class, and the very last day of school she had to separate us (I had a thing for Wills even back then). Well Mrs. K, I was listening. Anyway, my sister had old Mrs. K 7 years later and also learned the HEI concept. We had a talk about it yesterday and I was like, “That is IT! This is my problem.”

Human Environment Interaction makes the world go round and I have never been more void of it in my life. Seriously, if anyone came over to visit me tomorrow I would probably attack them with excitement. I’m not joking. I don’t think I would behave myself. I’d probably be going a million miles a minute just because I had someone out of my micro sphere of interaction- my sister- to talk to. I would probably scare a guest with being over-friendly and over-bubbly and overly everything.

Anyway, because my last few months have been different than anything I’ve ever known, and because I love being around people and haven’t, I have become clingy to Will (Agh! All men around the world have heard me say the “C“ word and run the opposite direction screaming in a high pitch shrill) This just stared to happen over the last 2 weeks. I don’t know if its because I know i have a job and am so anxious to start but haven’t been able to so I gotten edgy or what the deal it.  I don’t really know the right way to explain how I’ve been, but it’s even annoying me!

I get so glad that he is home and I want his full and total attention because for me, he is pretty much the 2nd person I’ve seen all day, but he has interacted with tons of people throughout the day. He wants to spend time with me, but he doesn’t want to be mauled with a million questions and the Spanish Inquisition of ALL details,

“How was your day!?”

“What did you do?”

“What did you have for lunch?“

“How many times did you go to the bathroom?“ and everything else (okay, so I don’t as the bathroom thing, but if I don’t get myself together this question could be included in the repertoire).

I don’t do this to be annoying, but it feels like I was apart of the day he had, and not sitting around all day totally bored watching Roseanne.

I know the way to fix this is for me to start working and to get out of this apartment and be able to have a “normal” schedule with normal HEI, but until then I really have to stop with the annoying stuff.

I have become so naggy to Will because it’s like I expect him on his best behavior and I am so sensitive if he doesn’t want to answer questions or he doesn’t seem as excited to see me as I am to see him. I have to realize that I am so giddy because he is my second HEI all day. He has had lots of HEI interaction and simply wants me to sit by him and relax a little.

Anyway, last night was bad. i was being sensitive about something and I don’t even remember how everything escalated, but we got in an argument and Will told me how he had been feeling- as if I didn’t already know-like I said I’ve been annoying myself for the last 2 weeks. I felt terrible.

He had gotten a box a 1983 football cards in the mail and was so very excited to open them with me (because this is a set we are collecting together), and I had to ruin the night.

I really did. I felt so bad.

I started crying and we talked and Will pretty much told me that I had to SHOW him that I was sorry and I couldn’t just say it. He is right. I felt yucky, but Will thought we shouldn’t focus on that stuff and should open our cards since we were looking forward to it for a few weeks now.

It was so awesome. talk about nostalgia. We bought 83 because it is my birth year and we are looking to by an 80 for Will. They were OLD cards, but it was so cool to open up a never been opened box of 22 year old cards with Bazooka gum still in the package.

Yuck.

Of course, I’m a weirdo and had to try this 22 year old gum. It turned to crap and powder in my mouth. Does that mean that since I’m 22 I have terrible taste and fall apart at the sight of trouble? You’d think during these last couple of weeks that was true! I really need a job! I’m ready to feel like my goofy, crazy (in a good way… if that is possible) self again.

The night was fun after that, seeing if we would pull any famous people and just the idea tht these were “historic” cards. It wasn’t as great as it should have been, but I’m glad it wasn’t totally ruined.

I really have to get some HEI in my life. I need to be able to be my friendly self and just smile to other people other than my sister!

I just want to get some HEI!

Well, I’m getting what I wish for.

Praise the Lord.

Unfortuately, it’s not going to be as easy as I had hoped. I got a letter from my recruiter and I have to leave the country so I can get my working visa. Will and I get to take a trip! Yay. The concept sounds exciting, but I’m afraid it is going to be stressful up until we get on the plane, and maybe even a little during the trip. We found out about having to take this trip last week, but weren’t able to make plans because we didn’t know when they would give me the go to leave.

So we have 3 days to plan a trip.

So many of the hotels are booked, and the ones that are available are out of this world. We didn’t get a chance to plan and save for this trip, so it has been a stressful afternoon. I’ve been searching endlessly for hotels where we are going only to be seriously disappointed. I feel bad because I know Will is stressed about everything and plus he has to ask off work last minute. On top of that, Will’s fantasy drafts started today and I know he is worried that we won’t be able to find a place where we can get on a computer to draft and stuff. I don’t need to tell you girls again how much of a priority that stuff is! (I did find an internet cafe online, hopefully it’s legit and he can draft and I can post a quick note of all the things I’ve seen) It just doesn’t feel like much of a trip right now. It seems more like a headache!

We had been saving Will’s living allowance for plane tickets back home for Christmas, so that wipes that account out! Sort of a bummer, but that is life. I hope tomorrow I will have more optimistic news, because we will have to book a hotel by tomorrow morning. I think once we secure a place, even though it’s organ donor expensive, I will feel a little better. I think it will be really great to get to see another place in the Middle East, so I just need to stay positive and enjoy time away with Will- God knows I need it and that I need some HEI.

So thats why I had to stop what I was doing. Last minute hotel searching in an expensive place- there is no fun in this.

As for some other news, we actually had some excitement in our area this morning! Okay- we do not live in the ghetto, but this story will probably make it sound like it. There is a decent amount of quiet prostitution and affairs and stuff that go on in this country, which is totally illegal.( yet the Kuwait orphanages are over flowing because so many Kuwaiti men sleep with their Filipino maids or store workers and they have to give up their child for adoption and the guy never gets caught. It’s all about wasta- or power).

I’ll tell you how little they tolerate indecency: 2 American employees were making out in a company car in the back of their apartment compex- it wasn’t in a crowded area or anything. Anyway, 4 cops dragged them out of their car, arrested them, and deported them back home. So, as you can see there isn’t much tolerance- even for some teenage-necking adults.

Every now and then you will read in the paper that they busted some TCN traffiking ring and stuff. Today we had a tiny little arrest at our complex! Its amazing how exciting things can seem after you sit in an apartment all day. The housing Nazis were doing inventory this morning, so my dad was home later than usual this morning. He got a call from a friend telling him to go out to the balcony. We go out and hear this deafening screaming. 2 police men had managed to struggle two women (there were originally 7, but the others somehow scattered and got away) into their car, close the door, only to have them to escape. They were chasing them, and the women were beating the cops and kicking them and yelling. They were laying on the ground and screaming hysterically. It was scary. My sister- sweet, empathetic soul- gets our camera out to capture the exciting “Keeping the Country Prostitution-Free” moment on tape.

From that moment on I can see the struggle and the fighting- which was totally weird- but all I can hear is my sister saying such Christian things like, “You slut!” and “I bet you were screaming like that last night!”

What a well-mannered, even-temered girl.

She does not get this yelling at those about to be arrested stuff from me!

I had to go in because I was afraid the cops were going to come after us next (I’m totally joking, they didn’t hear). I can’t do the story justice, you had to be there, but it was pretty crazy. The cop was doucing her with water and she was spitting on him and kicking him. I’m honestly surprised at how much restraint the cop showed. He sure did yell at her before he picked her up and forced her in the police car, this time for good. Oh the excitement. How sad.

Did I say I needed some HEI?

Yeah.

That’s evident.

This morning my sweet husband- having not put his contacts in- went to the bathroom-and failed to lift the lid- and peed all over the seat. I unknowingly hopped out of bed and headed straight to the toliet. Oh what I surprise I got this morning as I sat down. How lovely, Will.

Yesterday can be equivilated to a a “sitting on a toilet seat with pee everywhere” sort of day. Okay, it wasn’t that bad, but it wasn’t overly wonderful either. If I sound overly negative, I apologize because it wasn’t terrible or anything, just different.

We all rolled to the airport around 2 yesterday afternoon and of course had to park in the long-term area since my parents would be gone all weekend. You’d think after living in the hottest place on earth, the architects would have made it a little more bearable to walk the 8 minute trek from the parking area to the airport by making some of it indoors, but they didn’t see this as a priority.

I had tried to look cute for Will (since the first time I would see him all day would be when I got into Kuwait for the night), but I was all wilted before I even got to the airport.

We got in line to check in. That was fun. For some weird reason you are not issued seats until you check in, so we had to wait for 15 minutes while they tried to find seats for us together. I think my dad told the guy about 4 times, “We don’t all have to sit together.” The guy ignored him 4 times. He told us one of us was going to have to fly stand-by because they couldn’t get us together.

“Maybe my dad wasn’t speaking English the first 4 times! We DON’T have to sit together!” (This is that I was thinking, and NEVER in a million years would have vocalized, though it might have been funny- but probably not).

So, after that shananagan we all had to get our visas stamped. I, of course, had to have the difficult one since it was expired. I was trying to hear what the Kuwaiti army guy was trying to tell me, but all I heard was my goofy sister whispering, “He is SO hot” in my ear, so I didn’t hear all the important information that I needed. All I heard was that I needed to go to imigration.

We started aimlessly wandering around and the guy was like, “No! No! Over there,” as he pointed to aimless space. Then laughter errupts from him and all his friends and the 87 other Arabs waiting in line.

“Yes. Hi. Hello. Mmhmm. It’s us. The stupid Americans living in your country, and yes, we have no idea where we are going.” So much for trying to lay low and keep a low profile.

At this point I wanted to pull a Carla Tate from The Other Sister and make a scene and yell, “Stop laughing at me!” in front of everyone, but I exercised self-control for the sake of us all. It might have been funny, but probably not.

So, after that we went to immigration and got everything ready to go and headed to our gate. I should probably tell you upfront now that all I did yetsrday was eat. Eat and eat- and had absolutely NOTHING (I’m not joking) of nutritonal value yesterday. After my cherry chip cake with rainbow frosting for breakfast and my sour Jujy fruits in the afternoon, I polished off a happy meal for lunch. (I don’t think it would be bugging me near as much if I would have went to the gym more this week, but I didn’t go like I should have.. that’s another post though!)

Anyway, so then since we had time on our hands guess what we did!? Ate. My sister and I got shakes from Sweeney’s. It wasn’t like we were hungry, we just did it. That part of the story gets better. After that depressing fun, we sat down and waited to get on the plane. It is a free for all here. They just come out and say, “Okay, you can get on now.”

There is no calling by row number.

Ladies first? heh. Right. you would have thought we were in the middle of the Running of the Bulls and they were headed our way or something. Everyone shot up and ran to the door and pushed and shoved. Did they not get their seat number at check in or something?

I think the goal of the Kuwait Airport is to make you want to get out of there as fast as possible. Between the “desert walk” to the airport and next event, they accomplished their goal easily (and then some) with Brittny.

We headed down the terminal thing and as I thought we were apporaching the plane, it only got hotter. We made a turn and were greeted with the outside. Outside? What? We have to go outside! I’m sweating like I just ran a marathon and you want me to go outside again…

We hopped on these nasty, unairconditioned busses along with a large number of others. The smell? I don’t think I need to tell you it burned our nostrils.

We got to the plane and got one. “finally, some AC,” I whispered to myself. I really thought I was really going to lose it as I got on the plane. It was so hot and stuffy. I know this Is Kuwait Air, but believe, me I’ve already had the “Kuwait experience” these 3 months, you don’t have to remind me of how miserably hot it is in your country.

It was hot and smelled just as bad as the bus. I don’t know what the theme the airline was going for was. Depressing maybe? I don’t know.

All I know is that they were playing the creepiest music ever. Didn’t they do testing groups to see how people responded to certain things? Did they not test the music selection? I don’t know if the speakers were shot of if that was really how the music was supposed to sound, but it was creepy. It sounded like it came from an old 50s horror movie. A string orchestra playing all muted and strange things. My sister just sort looked at eachother and had a conversaion with our eyes. I really can’t do the music story justice, because you had to be there, but trust me, it was weird and eerie.

Well, what the lacked in ambviance they made up for in food. Go figure I would be the one to say that. Just give me chocolate and I forget about everything else.

Kudos to Kuwait Air- they serve REAL snacks on their flight and you don’t have to freakin’ pay for them like in the States. It wasn’t a snack. It was a small meal, and of course I had to try it. It was a pita, one half stuffed with feta and the other half stuffed with tuna salad. They were really good. They finished it off with a mini Bounty chocolate bar. I forgot about all the bad attributes of the flight and simply thought, “They gave us a meal for a snack. You rock.”

I’m such a sucker.

The flight was only 45 minutes, so that was good too- that way I didn’t have time to change my favorable opinion of this yucky airline.

We landed and were greeted with another bus and a person that simply said, “Welcome to Qatar, where it is hot as hell and humid as a rainforest.” (okay- so I threw in the weather analogy myself). The windows on the bus waiting for us were raining condensation. It was so humid, even worse than Kuwait has been lately. (kuwait still beats the world in miserable heat I think)

We got to the airport and I got a sinking feeling in my stomach as I saw the layout. I was positive I was going to have to go through the gate alone and without my family. Lucky for me I, the flight was leaving about 45 minutes from the time we got to Qatar, so I didn’t feel so nervous. I said my goodbyes and thought I was going to throw up all over myself because I was so nervous.

I went through and checked in and got my seat assignement with no problem. I asked for directions of where I was going next and went straight there. I gave the guy my ticket and he was like, “I’m going to keep this for now, you just sit down.” I was freaking out. I was the only one he did that to. I don’t know if he was just being a jerk and giving me a hard time because I was a Westerner and by myself, or what, but everyone else got their ticket torn and given back to them.

A small group gathered and started taling about me. This man (who worked for the airlines) came over to me and asked to see my passport. My stomach was in knots. It’s not the greatest thing to flash around an American passport. You pretty much only show it when you absolutely have to. So, I didn’t really know what to do. I wanted my stupid ticket back, so I showed it to him and in a loud voice he tells his colleagues at the front desk, “she’s American!” Great. Do you want a P.A. for that!?

About 5 minutes later I got my ticket and calmed down from the small panic attack I was suffering. Everyone pushed their way to the bus and were blasted with the sea of humidity. I was in Qatar for maybe 35 minutes. That wasn’t too bad. I did it! Wow!

I got on the exact same plane I had gotten off of a few minutes earlier and sat two rows back- but this time I had a window seat. About 10 minutes in they begin shoving food at me again. Do you think I took it? Do you really have to wander? This time it was two little tea sandwiches. One was cucumber and cheese and the other was bologna. I had the cucumber one and then sweetly tucked away my mini mars bar away for Will. I tried to freshen up in the plane so I would look nice for Will. What I really needed was a perfumery to douce their creations on me. I was put through a lot of interesting smells yesterday.

As we were flying into Kuwait and I could see the fire burning off the top of their oil well things (I don’t really know what they’re called, but it is a good fire) in the dark of the night I was actually happy. Okay, so we are coming here for a goal and Kuwait isn’t our home, but I was so glad to be back. I guess the main reason was because I knew Will was waiting for me.

We landed and finally didn’t have to be bused! I found the visa desk and took a number. I waited a few minutes and had the army guy get everything ready for “Brittny Spears.”

Ha Ha, so funny- just give me my flippin’ visa.

I got it with no troubles. I breathed a sigh of relief. Now was the time for a little apprehension! It was time for the “gauntlet” as it has been dubbed by many Westerners.

You are in one area of the airport, it is fairly quiet and not too overwhelming, but then you go through these glass doors and if you are not ready you are getting the shock of your life! (I’m glad my mom and sister came to Kuwait before we did so they could warn us when we first came!) The gauntlet is this long aisle walkway, and the sides are roped off. So, those arriving walk out of the glass doors and are met with hundreds of yelling Arabs, trying to find those who are coming in to meet them.

It is straight chaos.

They are yelling and waving hands, taking pictures of girls that come out and everything in between. It is a mess. I walked through the “gauntlet” and fought my way past the crowd in the back and called Will. He was smart, he stayed on the second level so he could have a clear view and could find me.

He came downstairs and we were out of there! We stopped by Hardees and Baskin Robbins (he hadn’t eaten and I figured we’d get some icre cream for the weekend alone).

I was hoping for a romantic evening since we were alone for the first time in ages, but I had a splitting headache (from freaking out all day) and we were both exhausted. We crashed as soon as we got home.

So, that was my day. It wasn’t too bad, and it was definitely eye-opening. I was impressed with how well I handeled the stress of doing everything alone here.

I was sad today because Will and I woke up at 11:30- so there went half our day. I don’t think we are going to do anything exciting, which is sort of disappointing. There is so much I want to see here. I really want to get better aquainted with my surroundings, but I think we agree it’s too darn not for that now. Come October or November it will be more bearable and we’ll get out and do more things. At least we will be together and have the freedom to do what we want. I can’t wait to get our own place soon! how much fun!

Thanks for sticking through this extra long edition of my crazy life’s post.

I hope you are having a great thursday.

As always, more to come… <3

Let’s talk about Hungary’s very own Little Becky’s Fruit Mallows Original. The pretty colors are so decieving.

I truly gave into male-like carnage today and ate something simply just to eat it. Why do I do this? I know its something I don’t really feel like, yet if I see my sister eating it’s like a trigger in my brain goes off, telling me that I HAVE to eat, just because she is. I could have eaten half a loaf of bread slathered in peanut butter and be about to throw up all over myself, yet because my sister is eating, so must I.

Anyway, today was a good example of how stupid this stigma is. Sweet Little Becky. Child laborer from Hungary. Forced into the marshmallow business to earn money for her circus-star parents.

Green- Lime

Yellow- Lemon

Orange- Orange

Pink- Strawberry

That is what it says on the bag anyway, but I have to believe the verdict is still out on these concoctions, and even Little Becky ponders just what in the world “Green” really is.

Today Little Becky gave my sister and I a huge laugh. We opened the bag thinking we’d indulge in a pre-dinner sweet only to be seriously disappointed.

That is such an understatement. It was like the anticipation you had as the guy you were dating rang the doorbell and you rushed out to confidently welcome him… only to have your underwear stuck in your skirt or something. It was that kind of let down.

I let her go first. I’m not a big fan of flavored marshmallows ( you never would have known this afternoon… I was eating them like they were on fire).

“Yellow.” A funny smile came across her face as she played with the jumbo fluff in her mouth.

However,you can’t just stop there though! For some reason known only to these 2 strange sisters, you have to try every flavor, to see if there is one better than what you just had, or in our case- was there really one that had the potential to be worse? Why we sought eating crappy flavored sugar and gunk and didn’t just throw them away after “yellow,” only we will know.

We had to go on. There were still 3 other flavors! So, I decided to join her. What a goof- I knew she didn’t like “lemon” so why would she like any other ones- and why would I- “I’m not a big fan of flavored marshmallows but pass the bag anyway"- like them if she didn’t?

“Orange. Hmmm. Interesting.”

So then, because we are weird, we had to try every color twice (because another exact form of the exact same color we just had MIGHT be different, right?)- except I let her try lime. I just couldn’t do it.

I don’t know why eating those crappy marshmallows was so funny today, but we were in tears as we each took out a flavor, hoping it to be better than the previous.

I guess you had to be there.

Wow, unemployment is so overwhelming