Adios Kuwait - 2010

*Note: New Year's Resolution = fail. This was written Dec. 16th in the airport on my way home for Christmas. Howevs, I had no internet and subsequently forgot about this post until I returned to Kuwait. Ooooops.... :-/

K, so I’m in Dubai… 6-hour layover until we board the plane destined for Htown. Peter made big talk about having cocktails and really tying one on before the 17 hour trek, but what is he doing right now??? He’s grabbing some Zs… yea… IN THE BAR… and me?? I’m waiting on this chick to bring me another vodka and rubbing my hammertoe. Yea, I took my shoes off. IN THE BAR. Whatever. I tried to be cute and wear boots (no heel) and now my dogs are paying for it.

I made a few New Year’s Resolutions. One is to blog at least once a week. I think it’s good for me. You know…. Just to sit down and let my brain vomit all over the World Wide Web. It’s therapeutic. And maybe I won’t lay awake at night like I have been for the last several weeks.

So, first things first… what I’ve been up to… well, since my last blog I’ve taken a few trips, made a LOT of ice, spent an ungodly amount of time in my bathrobe, cooked my tooter off (that includes my very 1^st Thanksgiving dinner, thankyouverymuch), schooled some foreigners in flip cup and beer pong and have developed a very inappropriate relationship with cookies.

WHERE’S MY VODKA?? Sheesh, these people have no urgency… anypoops. I should have blogged about this weeks ago, but I attended my very 1^st Kuwaiti wedding! Since I arrived in Kuwait EVERYONE has told me that if I ever have the opportunity to attend a Kuwaiti wedding that I MUST. So. I did. And let me tell u… it was completely OVER THE TOP. I mean, I got muh hurr and make up did (all profesh, thanks Libra!), wore a gown and STILL managed to feel completely underdressed…. The décor was fab and the ladies rivaled the most dazzling drag queens I’ve ever seen, but somehow, they’ve managed to suck the life out of all things wedding related that I simply adore!

OMG, WHERE’S MY VODKA?? This is ridiculous…  I’m parched! How can Peter be sleeping with the stupid loud airport announcements every few minutes? He amazes me! K, back to the wedding. First, the ladies have a separate reception from the men. So basically, I got all dressed up to prance around in front of. Ladies. Oh, and by prance, I mean walk a catwalk and wave to myself… Yea, that’s how it’s done here. I mean, I really like to shake it. I get down at weddings. I bust out moves I didn’t even know I had… I mean, it’s a WEDDING, a CELEBRATION, time to break it down proper. But no… there was no Kanye, no Beyonce, no Rihanna… just some chick singing in Arabic with her mouth practically pressed right on to the microphone… cool, I don’t know this jam… but I’ll play along. The seats are like stadium seating, picture bleachers of women on both sides of a room with a catwalk down the middle leading to a platform with 2 ‘thrones’ on it <----- oh, those are for the bride and groom??? Ooops…. So my friends and I danced. We blended in, oh ‘cept for the hair and light skin and…come on… we weren’t fooling anyone. But all the ladies were so friendly and took my hand and we danced/pranced down the catwalk. I fought the urge to bust out a ‘funky chicken’ halfway down the stage. Minor prob, I could NOT control my facial expressions… It was like I was in drill team all over again… open mouth, big smile, over exaggerated enthusiasm…. I realized I hadn’t been on a stage in a decade…  Which is funny, bc the whole point of this catwalk extravaganza is to show off in front of potential mother-in-laws and show what kind of goods u have to offer her son… weird. I was able to suppress the facial spasms by just looking down at the floor and continuing to wave at myself. I’d post pics, but they have wedding Nazis at the door that probe ur purse for cameras and phones. God forbid any of the ladies are captured on film without their abayas on. Respect. I would have uploaded those straight to FB… good call wedding Nazis… good call.

MMMMMMmmmmm, Vodka cran…. Just what I wanted. Thanks lady. So yea, to answer ur question, I totally rocked an abaya. I want to wear it everywhere now. I thought I couldn’t leave the house in my bathrobe, but now, I totally can…

All the ladies were dressed so completely over the top that I found myself starring, which is considered rude where I’m from…. But they starred right back so fekkit. The hair!!! OMG, was there a beach ball in there??? The makeup!!!! Did a circus master apply that??? Unbelievable, but strangely intriguing… what I found so sad is that these ladies went to all this effort and there were no men there to oogle them… to tell them they looked smokin’ and drop cheesy lines to make them blush. Such a shame, really…. The no alcohol thing really drained the urge to party. I realized they’ve managed to take just about all the fun out of attending a wedding when I saw the buffet.  It didn’t open until midnight, for one. For two, ur given a plate and a spoon… then, it’s a free for all. Ladies literally take their spoon and sample a dish and if they like it, they help themselves… if not, on to the next chafing dish. Oh my pukey pants…. Libra and I piled some stuff on our plates just to participate and then gingerly abandoned them at a table that was already overloaded with dirty dishes.

Let’s review: No alcohol, no ‘dancing’, no sit down dinner, no ceremony (at least guests aren’t invited for that part), no cameras…. No men…. Oh, except for the time when the groom and his entourage enter and ‘dance’ down the catwalk towards his wife (this is the very first night she’ll spend in her new home, which happens to belong to her in-laws…. exciting, right?). They throw money in the air and make all kinds of noise and hand gestures, all amidst a sea of black. All the ladies are warned before the men enter. Abayas are donned and there is no sequin, sparkle or cleavage to be seen.  After the groom sits next to his bride (God, I still feel bad for the poor thing), the men leave and it’s back to tramping it up down the catwalk.  All in all, it was an interesting night. But if it wasn’t for Meg, Libra and Jen and those 4 bottles of wine we had before the leaving the house, I’m not sure I would have enjoyed myself.

WOW… my husband sleeps like a CHAMP! Every now and then he wakes up and realizes there’s a beer in front of him and he takes a big gulp and then back to sleep… I should take a pic… one moment please. Bless him’s heart…

Ok, just 2 more hours and I’m on my way home… I can’t wait to see Christmas trees/lights! Cold weather! Fam and friends!

Here’s to a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all the loved ones in my life. I’m signing off to do my best to induce some kind of alcohol related drowsiness before I embark on this plane ride.

Cheers!

it's HAMMER time...

WOW, it's been forevs since I blogged. I've been mourning the loss of my 20's and my arches...

My feet have been really hurting me since I moved to Kuwait and I kinda chalked it up to walking around on tile all the time... I had them checked out twice while I was Houston and if I had known the news the Dr. was going to give me I would have just put up with the pain.

I'd never been to the foot doctor before. I've never had any foot problems, I thought only old people had those?? My first visit fell a little short of my expectations. While I waited for the Dr. I caught up on my celeb gossip and tried to imagine the worst news that I would hear today: No more high heels.

I don't normally wear high heels in Kuwait, mostly b/c I'm inside all the time and they don't really go with my bathrobe. But up until this point, I didn't even own a pair of flats, much less any kind of sensible supportive shoe.

So I'm sitting on this little short table waiting for the doctor to come see me and looking at my feet stretched out in front of me. Dammit, shoulda gotten a pedicure. oops. He enters the room and introduces himself and immediately sits down and gets to work. He's bending my foot this way and that way and looks up at me, "Are your feet normally sweaty or are you just nervous?" <----WHAT???!! I wish I could have seen my face while my brain processed this question and then blurted out, "it's my first time, just nervous, i guess..." I had an Ally McBeal moment where I imagined leaning back on my hands and slapping him with my feet until he was spinning wildly in his little doctor chair.

He asked me a few other questions but I can't even remember what b/c half my brain was talking to my feet asking them to please turn off the water works and be on their best behavior.

Diagnosis: Short achilles tendon and hammer toes (yeah, that's right, HAMMER toes. sexy, right??)

He gave me a sheet of paper with exercises to help lengthen my tendon, wrote me a prescription for anti inflammatories, and then...the dagger in the heart, orthopedic shoes.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! He could tell by the horrific look on my face and the tears stinging the backs of my eyes that this was not positive news to me. I mean, sure, I'll do some stretches and yada yada, but DUUUUUDE - this was a death sentence.

He explained to me that I had put my feet in 'casts' (high heels) for the last 6 years and the pain I was experiencing was a result of NOT wearing high heels anymore!!! HUH? Dude, I can put my heels back on and we can pretend this never happened... No? That's not a solution? What? Orthopedics are my only option?

**I had a mini flashback to my first job out of college. The older ladies in the office that wore those short, chunky heels used to always tell me how they used to wear stilettos and that I should 'enjoy it while I can'. Why didn't they tell me the ugly truth??  Why did no one roll down their knee highs and show a young, impressionable girl the reality of the relationship between sky high heels and the inevitable hammer toe??**

To make things worse, the doctor himself pulled off his shoe and showed me that he too wore orthopedic inserts. Awesome. I left the office with my prescription and sat in the car in the parking lot. I looked at the 'bag of bones' that are my feet (yea, he called them that) and cried... I thought about all the things he had said to me. I stopped crying briefly when I remembered he told me that I could still wear high heels.... on special occasions... like my birthday... <----that's only ONCE A YEAR! more crying...

Ok, ok, ok, ok... I eventually pulled myself together... I've been in pain for months and the only way to correct this problem is to tackle it. With a very unattractive and supportive shoe.

I am now the not-so-proud-owner of a pair of orthopedic flip flops (yea, they make those), 2 pairs of supportive flats, orthopedic cross trainers, and a variety of orthopedic inserts.  Yup, there goes all my bday money.  poopers...

Month 1 in Houston

Wow… I’ve been in Houston for a month and it’s been absolutely BONKERS! I’ve seen the fam, played with friends, missed my adorable husband to the nth degree, rubbed baby bumps, cleaned up baby dumps, shopped my tooter off, drove about 4 cars that don’t belong to me, made multiple trips to the post office (duh, gotsta ship that LOOT!), drank more wine and liquor than one should on a healthy diet, skipped workouts, had my hair did (WAAAY overdue!), baby showered, happy houred, attended 2 weddings in the SAME day, danced at every possible occasion, had lazy days with my stay-at-homers, soaked up the Texas sun out by the pool, caught up on all my fav shows, ate pork for about 2 straight weeks, celebrated birthdays, toasted good friends, had my toes did, made cake balls AND cake pops (don’t ask), signed up for a power pump class that ended up being ‘Baila for the family’ and didn’t leave, attended numerous cooking classes, manned the family biz, played in the rain, made several trips to the airport and only got lost once, taken a road trip to Galveston with a dear friend and never left the hotel room (catching up can take FOREVS!), slept in beds that aren’t mine and occasionally couches, felt like a nomad…

I really can’t believe I’ll be in Houston until Oct 17^th. This was definitely NOT planned, albeit a HUGE blessing.  The whole reason I was even supposed to make this trip was to accompany muh hubs, then when his trip fell through he sent me anyway…. Hmmmm??  The truth is, I would more than likely have been put in jail for snagging a sip of water while laying out by the pool or perhaps eating almonds out of my pocket whilst perusing the mall. Ramadan is no joke. 

How ‘bout this?? Peterpop gets a phone call just 2 days after I leave notifying him of a training IN HOUSTON they want to send him to…. Perf… I was supposed to be returning to Kuwait Sept 4^th and then back to the states for Peter’s training Sept 23^rd???? While I do enjoy airline food and catching up on movies – that trip is just WAAY too long to make twice in one month. Sooooooo, here I am, patiently waiting for my man to join me so we can return together (He’s such a good sport). 

I can’t help but miss my life in Kuwait tho… Petercakes, routine, my bed, friends that will prolly have forgotten about me by the time I return (Oh God, please don’t!).  I’ve just learned that one of my close friends in Kuwait will be returning to the states before December and I’m praying this is just a nasty joke she’s trying to pull… This woman saved me…  I found her through her blog.  After reading for about 3 hours I already had a baby crush on her… I had to make contact! I had been to the American Women’s League and British Ladies Society and hadn’t had any real bites.  I sent her an email, which I’m sure she read as a very real cry for help… I described my experience in Kuwait thus far and also mentioned that I didn’t have a car, or a life, really….

We met for dinner. Peterpie dropped me off. It’s like I’m in junior high again…. At least now I have a cell phone so I can text for a pickup… We dined and chatted for 3 hours, or was it 4???  She was so interesting and funny and to this day, I know God virtually placed her on the Internet for me to stumble across.  A fellow American, already settled in Kuwait but just as jaded as a newby, she threw me arm floaties just before I thought I was going to go under.  She told me to suck it up, she didn’t feel sorry for me… and that’s when I really started to embrace my life in Kuwait.  She even gave me the opportunity to do for someone else what she had done for me, and that little nugget has turned into a beautiful friendship as well. 

I feel like today is Thanksgiving or something. Like I should list out all the things that I’m truly grateful for and then ponder on them all day… It’s weird how gratefulness can just pour over you sometimes. When I first got back to Htown, my mother-in-law let me use her car (which was my car before I left – the precious woman bought it off of me!)… soooo, I’m driving (which I hadn’t done in 5 months) and I’m jamming to music, really belting it out and flexing my lungs, the sunroof is open and I have shopping bags in the back… Another car passes me on the freeway with this awesome dog in the backseat, he’s got his head out the window and his tongue is free flying out of his mouth and he’s got this big toothy smile on his face.  He looked me right in my eyeball, and I knew we were both on cloud nine. I turned down the music and I just reflected on my life at that very moment and totally teared up. I thanked God for everything I have been blessed with and then I called my precious husband to tell him how much I love and miss him.  A similar experience happened when we were in Bahrain… I started crying in the sushi line at this unbelievable brunch we ate at… I’m such a sap! The guy in front of me was prolly like ‘take it easy sister, I’m sure there will be some left by the time u get up there…’  But I was having a moment… I’m sure he wouldn’t have understood…

But it feels so good to get carried away sometimes… so I’m counting down the days until my boo gets here and I’m going to make every day count!  I might even stick my head out the backseat window and let my tongue slap the side of my face! it’s been awhile…

it's peanut butta jelly time!

Peanut butta jelly time, peanut butta jelly time!

Whur he at? Whur he at? Whur he at? Whur he at?

Thur he go! Thur he go! Thur he go! Thur he go!

Peanut butta jelly, peanut butta jelly, peanut butta jelly, peanut butta jelly

Do the peanut butta jelly, peanut butta jelly, peanut butta jelly wit a baseball bat!

Do the peanut butta jelly, peanut butta jelly, peanut butta jelly wit a baseball bat!!

.....HOKAY, I've totally had this song in my head, and yes, I walk around the house doin my thang and shakin my 'peanut butta jelly' when it's necessary (which this past week has been quite often). Reason being - that's all Peter and I are going to be eating b/c of the recent purchases we've made...

I never anticipated needing so much furniture once we got settled over here. But I seriously NEED it... like I dream about that adorable little chair that I can place in the corner of my room (at a very slight angle of course) that I can lounge in and sip my morning coffee and gaze out at the sea. Plus we need furniture that can survive a few more moves - so I'm not thinking IKEA people. They just opened up a Pottery Barn here and it's going to be the death of me... I just know it! We went last night with the intention of buying a few rugs I've had my eye on and they took FOREVS to get them pulled from the back and to ring us up.... so while Peter sat on outdoor furniture with his head in his hands, I was running around like a madwoman and ended up finding a few MORE things that I couldn't live without - whatever, no buyers remorse here! They were on sale and he'll thank me later...

We still need some big pieces of furniture but the prices over here are just RIDIC! I know how much these pieces cost back in the states and what's worse is some of them even still have the US$ amount still on the price tag next to the KD price - ummmm, are you TRYING to turn Americans off of buying your products?? The lady at the checkout was super nice, she kept apologizing about the long wait (mostly b/c Peterpie looked like he had been dragged through a Babies R Us or something). We're having the large rugs delivered to our place in the next few days so she took our address...

'Mahboula,' I started...

She giggled, 'I'm sorry, Mahboula have very funny meaning in Arabic language.'

So... There it is... I live in 'Crazy Lady' town... ON PURPOSE! I informed her that I was aware of the meaning. No smile on my face this time sister. Let's pack this stuff up and finish this transaction so I can go get muh husband a snack to cheer him up.

We ate at P.F. Chang's... DIVINE! Then I dragged him to IKEA to look at cheap stuff... Man, he's a good sport! I kept reminding him that I don't get out much and that this was SOO much fun! Sometimes I think that if I tell Peter how much fun I'm having over and over and over again that my good times will rub off on him and we can enjoy shopping experiences like this TOGETHER. But shopping for furni right now is just a necessary evil! We need stuff! I don't have a car! I don't have money! So that means when Peter's home it's time for ME to take care of business... and you really have to put the legwork into finding good pieces b/c unless you want a teal sectional made out of crushed velvet sitting on gold feet, you really have to look...

I know, I know... I was the owner of two purple couches before I moved here, so I should love this stuff, right? I still miss big (and lil) purp... but the tacky stops here. This is the first place I've ever had that is my space (I mean, I know it's Peter's too - but I spend my whole life in this place) so I'm taking the time to pick out things I love and things I won't mind having around for, well, a really long time anyway.

Anypoops, here comes the bad news. Peter can't come home in August! :-((((((( This breaks my heart into teeny tiny little pieces! I mean, I knew it was a possibility but I guess I was just being hopeful... Now I can't decide when to leave or for how long b/c I really don't want to leave him. I've been so excited for this trip! It's still going to happen... but I'm just disappointed! Peter won't be able to come home until Christmas now, bless his heart. I guess I'll have to fill up a big 'ol suitcase of his faves to bring back with me! ;-)

Please start saying prayers NOW that I don't get stopped going through customes. I wasn't so lucky coming back from Jordan... BOOO!!!

Kuwaiting to Exhale

WHEEEW!!!!! It's gettin HOT over here peeps... I have to refrain myself from commenting on every fb post I see complaining about the weather in the states... It's over 120 degrees here during the day and then cools down to a miserable 110 in the evenings. Peter and I were walking to our car after eating out for dinner and it felt like we were walking next to a campfire. :-/ I spend most of my time in our freezing apartment (Peter likes to see his breath when he wakes up, forcing me to wear sweats in the middle of the summer) but when I venture outdoors the heat and the humidity is just shocking!

Not only is it hot, but it freakin STINKS! I noticed it when we first got here - waking up in the morning to a slight stench that I mentally blamed Peter for... but after stepping outside I realized it was the air! Gag... There's a major sewage prob here and the low tides and high temps in the summer make for a pooptastic outdoor experience.

I try to lay out 2 times a week just to get some sun on my cheeks and reduce the skin tone margin between me and muh husband. But lately, I can't stand more than about an hour, and that's with a dunk in the pool every 15 mins or so. The place we live in only rents to Westerners, so I'm free to wear my 2-piece and pretty much carry on like I would at home... but the other residents have to think I'm crazy... I'm the only one out by the pool (which is disappointing b/c I was hoping to make some poolside friends). The heat, humidity, stink, and desert wind keep most of my neighbies indoors - but NOOOOOO, not me. I lay out by our massive pool all alone, chugging water, reading whilst wiping sweat out of my eyes and occasionally looking up into other people's apartments... I'm such a creeper...

I can only imagine what I look like... the wind whipping my pony tail against my face and swirling the pieces that refused to be restrained into a gravity defying hairdo, taking small breaths through my mouth to avoid the smell of Kuwait's dirty diaper, frequently turning so the wading pool that is my belly button may empty itself - the sacrifices a sun goddess must make to achieve a golden tan... *SIGH*

I tried to wear my big floppy hat out once to channel my inner SATC but that was a complete disaster... I'm sure that was an entertaining afternoon for my shut-in neighbors who watched the sweaty American chase her hat all around the pool and then settle for holding it on her head while attempting to look relaxed as the wind clapped the brim against her face over and over and OVER.

I know the fact that I actually WANT a tan is confusing to the women over here - who go to extremes to cover themselves and even use products to whiten their skin. But I like to think we're both learning from each other, ie: If you can't tone it, tan it??? I do my best to get in a daily workout - but all bets are off on the weekends. PLUS, I'm super hearting my oven and all I wanna make is cookies and brownies. Peter's never home when I get to bakin so that leaves me to lick the mixing bowl all myself... nothing a little tan won't hide... riiiiight?

Soooo, obviously I'm still in Kuwait and not in Htown. There have been some shake ups at Halliburton and they've postponed our trip. Shocker. I always get my hopes up just to be disappointed by 'the man'... whatevs, so I wasn't home for the 4th - sounds like there's been a cloud hovering over my hometown this month anyway so I guess I'm not missing much. Looking on the bright side, I'll be missing Ramadan by coming home in August rather than in July. During Ramadan almost EVERYTHING shuts down during the day and doesn't open up until the evening when Muslims break their fast. Eating, smoking and drinking (even agua) is illegal during daylight hours of Ramadan and if you're caught doing any of these things in public you can get thrown in the slammer for the remainder of Ramadan. <---that includes expats... sheesh...

No word yet on the actual date that I'll be returning, but Peter has promised me that even if his trip is postponed due to work that he'll send me home... God, I love my boss! ;-)

title credits to Mr. Patrick Lockerd ... very appropriate!

BABIES, BABIES, BABIEEEES!!!

WOW! I feel like everyone I know either has a baby, just had one, or is about to give birth to one! It's so exciting to find out what everyone's having and then to see the pics posted when they're actually here and SOO tiny! Precious little bundles of joy...

My mom has been giving me a full court press: 'I mean, everyone else is a Grandma...', 'All the other teachers talk about their grandkids...', 'I hope you guys are thinking about having a baby soon, you don't want to wait TOOOO long, Lydia!'

Sheeesh, I admit, Peter and I have knocked around the idea of having a baby over here. I've met several women who gave birth here in Kuwait and they said the accommodations were RIDIC. The Hyatt owns the private hotel and your room overlooks the Arabian Gulf... fancy schmancy...

During the 3 months that we've been here I've been lucky enough to get to spend butt loads of time with our friend's baby, Logan. He's so awesome and Peter and I have grown VERY attached to him! Look at that wittle face?!?!?!?! Sometimes I squeeze him too hard... I know this.

Bless Peter, he's like, 'Want one?' Me: 'Well suuuure, let's just swing by the store on the way home and pick one out! Were you thinking boy or girl?' I LOVE the idea of having a baby, don't get me wrong. But Peter isn't the one that will be waddling around for 9 months in a country where bayou booty can be expected as soon as you step out the door. Not to mention, I don't drive! If I'm going to have a baby over here I HAVE GOT to learn how to drive here... Which scares the duke out of me...

There's so much gear that goes along with having a baby too! You have to get the crib, the stroller, the car seat, clothes, toys, the little bouncy chair, they need a whole nother room for God's sake! I know, I know... It's totally worth it and other stuff... BUT, until you've moved everything you own across the world, I don't want to hear it. The fun thing about moving all our things over here and inventorying EVERY SINGLE ITEM is knowing that in 3 years you'll have to do it ALL OVER AGAIN! Barf... it makes me queasy just to think about it... SOOO, adding a third person to this equation that is guaranteed not to be able to pull their weight puts me off just a bit...

Plus, we have so many plans for travel while we're over here. *Sigh* But I DO live in a country where alcohol is illegal - it's like I'm pregnant right now without the payoff in 9 months... and I DO have my days free to wash tiny clothes and change poopy dipes... I already carry around a diaper bag for Peter (he calls it my purse, but whatever) containing his contact solution, glasses, eye drops, wallet, keys, receipts, bottled water, snacks - I suppose I could make some room for a few bottles and diapers.

Another concern is that I know myself... and I know my body. I'm going to BLOW UP when I get pregnant. I already eat like a growing boy and with the excuse that I've got another body to feed, who KNOWS how much I will consume!?! Scurrrry... I can't WAIT to let my belly hang out though, I think that's going to be the best part! Gooodbye spanks, HELLO expandable waist pants and tent tops!!

OK, but, we've only been married for like 4 months! I've made some big changes this year... having a baby would be like a quadruple whammy! And WHAT IF I HAD TWINS???? Because my sister and I are fraternal my mother has always told us there is a chance we could have twins as well... and that WOULD happen to me!? PERF - I just doubled the size of our fam in less than a year. We can kiss saving money out the window and I will morph into Kate Gosselin right before your eyes.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, WHOOOOAAAA... my eyes just crossed for a second. I need a cup of coffee and to listen to the complete silence that surrounds me in my lonely apartment. All better... Sooo, obviously, I need to chew on this idea a little more. I love muh husband to isty bitsy pieces and thinking about having a little Peter pie really is so exciting, I just want it to be the right time for us, ya know?

it's what i do...

Peterpants and I have been in our new place for almost a month and we are L.O.V.I.N. it! It only took 3 hours for our things to pass through customs thanks to a few lines of flattery slung by muh husband and then the movers brought everything to our new location. We live in a hi-rise in Mahboula <----that's right, 'Crazy Lady' town... and I'm pretty sure we'll stay here for the entire 3 years. The movers brought in all the boxes and placed them in the appropriate rooms. I immediately began unpacking and they assured me that they would come back the next day to unpack everything and remove all the trash. Ummmm, this poor guy didn't know that I had just gotten married right before we left and that we were standing amongst boxes filled with gifts... buried treasure!!!!!

I stayed up all night and unpacked AND washed EVERY SINGLE piece of kitchenware that I own. Did you know that I have 42 pieces of stemware???? I didn't... But somehow I hold my head a little higher walking around Kuwait, just knowing that it's here... in my cabinets... waiting to be used...

I was pretty much on a roll after I finished the kitchen so I just barreled through the rest of the boxes and by the time the movers came in the morning I was standing neck deep in paper and cardboard with my hair in a knot on top of my head and YES... I was wearing the same thing they had last seen me in the day before, sans shower... But you see, I actually have 'work' to do now. I feel useful! Peter leaves the apartment in the morning and when he comes back I walk him around the house showing him what I've been doing all day. I'm quite handy really... I use tools, dammit.

OK... so I'm pretty much in a little routine now. I wake up with Peter and make him brekky and pack snacks for him and then I normally enjoy a cup of joe and some skype... It really is the perf time to chat b/c it's around 10pm or so in the states and most peeps are still up. After everyone goes to bed back home that's when I start my chores. I take numerous breaks to go sit in the maid's room and check on my 'juice'. Just a few more weeks my precious and you'll be swirling around in one of momma's beautiful stemmed glasses.

I actually need to post picts of the new place, but we don't have that much stuff up on the walls yet and I really don't want to post pics of her in the nude... It just wouldn't be right. The walls are concrete and the floors are all tile, so Peter and I literally have to SCREAM to communicate to each other in different rooms. We've given the bedrooms numbers now to make it easier. So when he's in the living room I can scream PEEEEEETER, BEDROOM 2, HELPPPPP! I don't know what it is about picking up more than I should - but I'm always trying. I'm one of those people that takes immense satisfaction out of carrying all the groceries from the car to the house in just one trip. All those deep indentions in my arms from the plastic bags will fade away, but I will bathe in the glory of my accomplishment as I heave the bags, step by step, to the kitchen; knowing this is the only trip I'll have to make. I'm being careful, I lift with my legs, blah, blah, blah... It's what I do, and I'm sure one day I'll pay the price... For example, my dogs have really taken a beating since moving into the new place. Standing all day on hard tile REALLY begins to hurt your feet. We did pick up a few rugs from Friday Market but we still need them in the kitchen - which is where I spend most of my time (insert barefoot, pregnant wife joke here).

The appliances here are FAB and you'll be proud to know that I can use ALL of them! No more crispy clothes for the Sidaroseseses... We FINALLY hung curtains the other night - sick of waking up with the piercing sun in our eyes - each room has an entire wall of floor to ceiling windows... that's a lot of curtains people!!! 16 panels to be exact... I hope we can use them again one day... Hmmmmmm, that reminds me, we still need curtains for the kitchen. Pooo! There's still so much to do.

We did get away to Jordan for a weekend with Nic and Jocy and OMG it was AWESOME! I posted pics on FB, but there are no words to describe the city of Petra or the experience of floating in the Dead Sea. Peter and I got in early on Thursday and landed in Amman - we found the bar like heat sensing missiles and bellied up. It's funny to see people's reactions when we tell them we're from Kuwait, they have this look in their eyes like 'i'm sorry' - I just nod and accept their pity... yes, feel bad for the American girl who has to cover up despite the booger drying heat with NO promise of a nice cold cocktail at the end of the day... Thank you bartender, I'll have another...

Friday morning we woke up early and took a 3 hour car ride out to Petra. We drove through the quiet desert and eventually reached the beautiful little city built right into the mountains. We had to hike several miles out to the city of ruins but it was worth every step. It gives you goosebumps (yea, even in the heat) to think about the people who actually lived here. I hope to go back to Jordan again just to walk Petra at night.

The walk out there wasn't all that bad, I mean it was in the middle of the day - but the weather was beautiful. HOWEVER, I walked all that way with the promise that we would be taking a carriage ride back... It seems I was the only one who remembered talking about that on the way OUT there and so the idea had been dismissed. I dragged my feet and sipped on water like I was being forced to walk through the desert, I fell behind several times and was super dramatic concerning my exhaustion - but the least Peter could have done was offer me a piggyback... just sayin...

So after our long haul we found a cozy little bar, affectionately called 'Cave Bar', to watch the World Cup and consume some empty calories. Publicized sports are of no interest to me, so I wandered around outside and played with a stray kitty. She was super friendly and she played with me for a long time. A waiter from the hotel moseyed over and asked me if she was mine... I feel bad for strangers that talk to me, I really do. In just minutes he had gotten the gist of my life story and then it was his turn. He was Jordanian and he had grown up in a cave. He described living with his family and how they got along out there until the government had built housing for them and they had moved into proper quarters. He actually preferred the simplicity of life out there, my eyes were like saucers, I was talking to a real-life cave man = AWESOME!

Saturday morning we woke up early, again, to take a 4 hour drive to the Dead Sea. We drove through the mountains and stopped several times for photo ops and potty breaks. Once we got to the Dead Sea Resort it was party time! We cocktailed in our room, by the pool, by the Dead Sea, back by the pool, in the hotel, back by the pool... it was lovely! Floating in the Dead Sea is the weirdest thing - it's the lowest point on Earth and the salinity is so overwhelming that nothing can live in it (hence the name). THANK GOD Peter reminded me not to shave or it would have been an unbearably painful experience. There were a few unlucky souls that entered the water with yelps and screams - poor ladies, talk about razor BUUUUURN!!! There was this one guy who ATE IT on the way down and his back was cut up from grating it down several steps. I asked him if he was OK and he looked me right in the eye and said, 'NO!'. I wasn't sure what to do after that... I thought 'Yes' was always the response when someone asked you if you were OK?? Kinda like when someone asks 'How are you?' and you reply with 'Good. How are you?' I winced when he got in the water... OUCH! :-(

Sunday was ANOTHER early day headed to the airport. Once we got home we both just crashed... Randomly napping and eating. There had been these noodles that I bought from the grocery store that you heat up in the microwave and then drain from the same container. I was so out of it that when I went to drain them the container came open and my precious noods fell right into the sink. I screamed for Peter and was borderline teary eyed - I really had my heart set on eating those thai noodles for dins. Peter saved the day and fished them out of the sink for me, rinsing them off, we added the sauce and I shoveled them in to my mouth. Well, Peter had been cleaning some bottles with this 'solution' earlier in the evening... and we're pretty sure that's to blame for the aftermath that ensued in the days that followed.

If you're still reading, you're probably a good friend of mine, and since I won't see your face for a long long time - I'm OK with sharing this story. I woke up the next day to a tummy that shot me the middle finger with a 'PEACE, I'm OUT'. I spent the next 3 days walking from the bathroom to the bed to the sofa to the bathroom, to the bathroom, to the bathroom, to the bathroom... Up until this point, Peter didn't think I ever used the bathroom, I mean, except for showering and getting ready and girly stuff... My cover had been BLOWN! The poop jokes got REALLY old after day 1, but no, Peter must have been stockpiling these b/c every time I returned from the bathroom he launched a new one at me. I researched on the internet, which literally scared the poo out of me, and found out that my intestines were not absorbing water. I was drinking 4.5 liters of water a day and was still dehydrated. I couldn't eat anything and was in excruciating pain. I really wanted my mommy!!

On a positive note, I lost 5 lbs! Every morning I would wake up and hop on the scale and yell to Peter that I had lost another 2 lbs... it was like Christmas there for about 2 mins standing on that scale, until my stomach realized that I was awake and it was time to let nature 'run its course' again... stupid noods...

I tried everything in the way of home remedies and even tried some meds from the quack shack. A friend of mine shared a home remedy that her family swore by - eating tea. That's right, steeping a tea bag for about 20 secs and then tearing open that little Lipton nugget and consuming its contents. I did it. I ate tea and it almost came back up... Nasty little trick, but it worked...

I'm all better now, but the poop jokes still haven't stopped. Pretty shitty if you ask me...