Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Why I sat in traffic for an hour this morning on 6th Ring

I don't understand how these people defy gravity and create feats that seem logically impossible.  Is there a special crash school somewhere where you learn to do the unimaginable (only in Kuwait)?

It didn't look like he made it.  God rest his soul.



Of course, the traffic was backed up for miles in both directions.  Of course, Kuwaiti style, vehicles (including Ministry of Interior and Ministry of Defense) were driving up the emergency lane and then trying to squeeze in between cars to get back in.  WTF people.  Then, of course, there were people like me, slowing down to click snaps....






Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Online Dating

Ok, so I am just going to come out and admit that I have been dabling with online dating of late.  Why?  Why do you think?  ... because I'm frick-in bored.  My work hours are 8:30 to 6 which leaves little time to meet people and its too hot outside now to go out in the evenings, so... whatever.

I don't use my real name.  I don't use my real photo. I am completely up-front and honest about that.  I'm not going to post all my personal stuff in a country that is as small as a postage stamp.  Nooooo.

So, what kind of mens have I been meeting?  Well, in real life, very few.  They never make it that far.  In virtual reality, I have met a ton of losers. Let's break it down, shall we?

First, the photos THEY post:
Photos holding their babies.  Photos of them half-neked (and NOT well-toned).  Photos which are obviously their wedding photos with the wife cut out.  And then there are the guys who think it is "cool" to post ugly photos downloaded from the internet.  What are these people thinkin?  At least make it appealing - and SMILE.  They shouldn't be mugshots.  No one wants to see that.

So por moi, every once in a while, I decide to change it up and change my profile picture to another pretty picture from the internet (I actually state this on my profile).  I get more hits.  I often get hits from the same losers who have written to me before.  They never remember chatting with me with a previous picture.  Weird, eh?

It says on my  profile that I don't read Arabic.  So, of course, they all write to me in Arabic.  Thanks.  If you can't pay THAT much attention, then it is a bad sign from the get-go.

So, let's just say that I might get as far as chatting online for several days with a guy. We exchange real photos.  Then, we exchange numbers.  So far, so good, right?   NO.  Because this isn't good enough for the Losers.  It isn't good enough that you should talk to someone like a human.  They want to continue to chat on another  medium like WhatsApp.  Pick up the phone, dumbass, and talk to me!  Or, they call through Viber or Tango trying to connect a video call so they can further see what I look like.  Someday, they are going to invent a device where you can pre-program recorded responses and you won't ever have to lift a finger.  What ever happened to meeting humans over a cup of coffee?  Has it gone this far?  How boring.

I've had a few guys invite me to dinner after all.  Great!  That is what we want to hear!  .... Unfortunately, it has turned out that they were inviting themselves to "dinner" at my house.  Not gonna happen.

Now when I'm asked, "Do you live alone?"  I know how to respond.  'I live with my uncle.  He's in charge of training the attack dogs for the military.  We've always got a few dogs in the house that he brings home.  I love dogs, don't you?'  Hey... how bout you just invite me to YOUR house?  Maybe your moms can cook us dinner.

I have friends (both Kuwaiti and non-Kuwaiti) who have met and married people through online dating.  I met 2 of my very dear friends on the internet.  One never knows.  Online dating is just another medium to meet people - and it is a lot safer in Kuwait (statistically, no serial killers).  I have come across several of my friends on the online dating sites. That is fascinating - especially since they posted their real photos and both are still married.

What has been my worst online dating experience?  I honestly haven't had (Mashallah) really bad problems.  The worst was probably the uber-rich guy who told me his full name (Flan Flan Flan Flan Al-Flan), what businesses his father owns, how many cars he has, how he has "palaces" all over the world full of "servants" (who TALKS like that???  Nouveau riche apparently.), and started speaking to me in both German and Italian to try to impress me (neither of which I speak).  Never let me get a word in edgewise.  Never asked about ME.   Then, he turned out to be a crazy stalker and called to shout obscenities at me.  Very posessive and demanding. Now, if you are well-known (and you've just told me that in a million different ways in 20 minutes), you probably shouldn't be a jerk because now I can run around and tell all my friends stories about you that will be told in countless diwaniyas.   Bada BING.  Be polite because you never know who you might be talking to or who they might know.  Not good, stupid ugly rich dude.

Really - what do we women want?  I'm not online because I need you to pay my mobile phone bill or rent.  I really just want a nice guy (and ok, I know I'm picky) and I want him to be "normal".  Nice conversation. SINGLE. Dinner someplace nice without a cabina.  Keep his promises (don't make a dinner date and then change it because YOU have to work.  I don't care. A bad first impression is a bad first impression.)  Respect.  Et, why should we have to weed out those guys who are just after sex?  State your plan in the beginning so I can get rid of you right away.  Why waste both our time?  Move on to someone who DOES need her rent paid.

What was the best date I had with a guy I met on the net?  Oh, that's easy.  We went to a restaurant that he asked me to choose.  We talked for 4 hours straight and he was totally interested in everything I had to say and it was mutual.  Neither of us ate very much, but we closed the place down.  We didn't even realize that everyone else had left.  Romantically, it didn't blossom into anything (although it remains to be seen).  We just had a great time and I was blessed to have met someone wonderful.  I think he feels the same way about me and that is never a bad thing, is it? I mean, if I had met the guy in other more "conventional" ways, it would also have been a roll of the dice, wouldn't it? 

Monday, August 27, 2012

Boo Hunt

So, the other day I'm out with The Romanian on a Boo Hunt.  Okay, so what?  Like there's anything better to do than to either drive up and down or sit in a restaurant and get an instant ego boost from a bunch of strangers of the opposite gender. 

We drive around for a while.  Slim pickins.  We end up in Souq Sharq which seems to be the Elder Care Center for the boo hunt.  Fine. Whatever.  So be it.  We sit down in Sharqia restaurant, which has the best saj sandwiches anywhere (for about.750 fils each).  Not that I'm eating anything these days (but that's another story for later).  We sit down and order coffee.  There's a table of guys at 11:00.  An old guy at 9:00 smiling at me like he's lost his mind, and way in the back at around 1:00 are a few promising guys.  We don't have direct line of sight on them.  Table full of guys looks okay.  One guy in particular is mouthing, "I love you" towards me.  I giggle.  He waves very cutely. His friends all turn around and smile. It's all good and fun so far..... until.....

Why is it that people have to phuck things up so badly?  They're only hurting themselves.....

Dude makes an incredibly rude tongue gesture.  THAT does it!  Oh. My. God.  What WAS he thinking?  Done. 

And just in time, out of nowhere, a shumakh guy makes his move and sits directly in front of rude dude and his quite-astonished friends (they knew he F-ed up because all of them laughed at him.)  Out of all of them, Shumakh Guy is the playah of the hour.  He was subtle; obviously a professional hunter.  Slight smile; discreet eye contact.  No overt gestures.  He definately got my attention (although lost it on the follow-through and he had TINY feet.  ech.)  You know what they say:  tiny feet, tiny socks. 

Disclaimer:  Yes yes, we take numbers, but it is only for catch-and-release.  It is very very rare that we ever call any of these guys.  It is the Thrill of the Hunt rather than the actual kill.  (Oh please, don't get your panties in a bunch!  We're not hurting anyone.  They are gaming too!)

To make matters completely worse with Rude Dude.... he follows me all over the mall.  When The Romanian instrucsts me just to take his damn number to get rid of him - and I do - he (who is about as tall as my shoulders) hands me, through his little midget fingers, his (I shit you not) his PURPLE business card with silver lettering.  Holy snap.  As my Irish Cousin later said, "That's not a business card; it's a LOVE card." 

Oh my.  What to do, baba?

In honesty, I'm pining over one guy that I'll never have.  I could stop myself at any time, but why?  It is fun thinking about him; listening to songs that remind me of him; talking to him before I go to sleep; generally killing myself softly and repeatedly.  Truth be told, if he ever did pay real attention to me, I'd probably stop being interested in him (he probably knows that).  Or... maybe I wouldn't.  Who knows?  This dance has been going on for a loooooong time.  Longer than I've allowed myself to dance it before. 

Enough about that.

On the way home, a Range Rover guy shows interest in The Romanian.  Here is the list of men ALWAYS intersted in her: Range Rover drivers; special forces guys; firemen; and police men.  Sometimes the later even drive Range Rovers.  But... it is always Range Rovers.  Why?  We don't know.  Anyhoo, so he asks us to pull over to take his number.  We do.  He (good looking, clean-shaven 30-something)  hands her a CD and gives her his phone number.  Now, this move is rather old-school.  For those of you who don't know, guys used to throw cassette tapes with their phone numbers on them into girls' cars.  The music is 'sposed to be romantic...  Anyhoo, dude must have gotten a wrong number because the CD was a Quran CD.  Totally cracked us up.  I guess maybe he could give her a niqab on their first date.  (Disclaimer II:  I have nothing against religious people, and I'm not saying anything derrogatory against them; however, this was out of character.)

End of Boo Hunt Story; begin something completely unrelated....

So the reason I haven't been eating anything lately is because before I left to the States, I had all that blood work done, right?  It turns out that my blood sugar is high.  Why?  Because I eat whatever the F I want to eat.  Always have.  Full fat ice cream?  Sure.   Desert?  Sure.  The yellow tequila instead of the white?  Of course!

I can't do that anymore.  And I have to exercise.  And I have to take meds.  Yup.  All of that. 

People, go get your blood sugar checked.  It is worth it.  I found out a whole bunch of stuff about how high blood sugar affects your health.  I can't have that.

I have The Romanian to thank.  After her heart attack, she told me to go get my blood checked and to start taking better care of myself.  So I did.  I'm eating like a freaking bird, but the exercise is the most important thing.

My blood sugar was 6.75.  They say high for normal is 5.  I've got to get better edu-ma-cated on the subject and go see a nutritionist also.

Anyhoo, of course, boo hunting can be considered exercise and it makes me feel better.  So there.

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Things I learned on my vacation

So, I'm back in Kuwait now (sniffle, whimper, booo hoooo).  Some trivial information I discovered while I was in Virginia:

Use a spatula to tuck in sheets while making the bed.  I learned this while on my 4th or 5th visit to Bed Bath and Beyond. They have everything you never knew you needed - and MORE.   Display Dude was making a very tight bed using a spatula.  Who knew?  Great idea for those who don't want to hurt their finger nails (and don't have a maid.  Seriously??  In Kuwait?  Who doesn't have a khadama??  Yeh.  Tell her to use a spatula.)  I think the one thing my dad (God rest his soul) kept from his time in the Navy was making a tight bed.  You could bounce a quarter off his bed.  And yet, I don't believe he ever used a spatula.  The man was an artist.

Use sunblock.  Okay, everybody knows this one but I'm an idiot and decided that I could go up against my year-round-brown sister, a Professional Tanner, and spend time with her in the pool.  What WAS I thinking?  I'm a frick-in lobster.  One minute I'm shivering uncontrollably; the next I'm leaving a pool of sweat in the middle of my matress.  This sucks and is one of the reasons I NEVER go out in the sun.  I don't care if I'm pasty white.  The men over here like that and I'm going to be wrinkle free (Botox) when I'm 90.

AFR is the abbreviation of "Accidental Fecal Release."  I learned this on an episode of "Undercover Boss" (which I LOVE) when a female CEO of a chain of resorts was asked to clean one up from the bottom of a pool.  I believe I will find many uses for "AFR" within conversation; I just don't know how yet.

Along the lines of turds....

If you have a big dog and you have to shovel poop (not that it would ever happen in Kuwait because you can just get your "guy" to do that):  Coat the shovel front and back with WD40.  It makes for easy on/easy off.  I guess the same could be done with horse poop.

So obviously, I have more to write about, but I'm going to save it for later.  Next post....




Friday, August 17, 2012

Donations requested for Booth House, Kuwait


Forwarded message:

Dear Friends,

Greetings to you. Trust all is fine with you through His blessings. 

Thanks for all the support and assistance given to our Booth House-The Salvation Army.
The girls are immensely blessed with the help you had provided.

We had a new batch of guests (abused domestic helpers)  from the Ethiopian Embassy this week.  Now the number of guests in our Booth House is 58.

To help us run the place efficiently you might be able to help this work  by donations of any or some of the following items:

  • Food items - rice, lentils, sugar, milk, tea,
  • coffee, canned food, macaroni, noodles, etc.
  • deodarants, hair oil.
  • washing  soap.
  • toilet rolls, etc.
  • Toiletries - tooth paste, shampoo, conditioners,
  • Linen - new or very gently used lined (bed sheets, pillows, pillow case, towels, etc.)
  • Washing material - clothes washing soap, dish
  • Hygiene products - sanitary napkins, kleenex,


Please be free to share this information with others (groups or individuals) who you think may help.

If you can donate cash or in kind please call 94415954 or E mail on brokentobeautiful2012@yahoo.com

Monday, August 06, 2012

How Bizarre

That was my theme song when I moved to Kuwait in 1996; the year it came out.  I used to hear it on one of the only good channels (MTV?  VH1?) on TV in my room in the Kuwait Plaza Hotel (now called the Suisse Belle Hotel or something stupid like that).  I was the only woman guest in that hotel.  The front desk guys used to give me weird pervert vibes and I'm sure they were listening in on my phone calls. That was a really strange time. My friend's husband came to take me to the doctor because I was so so sick with the flu and the hotel management accused me of being a prostitute because friend's husband came to the room to get me!  Friend's Kuwaiti husband was this || close to knocking the manager's head in (I stopped him).  WTF.   The only other people in the hotel were CIA types with names like "Frenchy" and "Dutch".  ("Soooo.... where do YOU work?" nudge nudge wink wink.)  Not to mention that I was working for a subsidiary of Kuwait Friendly House and had to wear hejab to work every day.  That meant having to LEARN how to wear hejab without looking like a clown. (The people who worked there must have thought I was totally wrong.  I would wear the hejab to work and then go out later walking without it.)   I think that normal humans would have felt threatened by it all.  To me, it was like one big adventure.

Anyhooo, random thoughts gone astray.  My nephew is moving out of the house to go to university this week and it is a life-altering move, similar to my move to Kuwait, so I am thinking about  how he must feel (empathizing).  He probably won't bring his teddy bear ("Beary Bear" in my case) like I did.  I've had Beary Bear since I was 5.  Did you really think I would leave him?

It is green here.  It is pretty.  People follow rules and for the most part, 99% of the people I have come into contact here have been kind (smiled or had kind things to say).  Having said that, I do miss my friends in Kuwait.  I miss Bu Merdas (yes, he's back on the scene).  There are other things I miss too, but not in large quantities.  Maybe that will change.

I'm doing some soul searching here as I always do so if I sound melancholy (PUHLEEZE do not start reading too much into it and writing to me to tell me in a forced-sympathetic way, "Honey, it's time for you to go home."  Not your business and I didn't ask you.), it is only because of that.  It is hard not to contemplate life when you are around this much beauty.

Ok, some observations here:

Why don't people move out of the left lane?  I mean OMG, Becky, get your fat ass over to the right where you belong!  People from Pennsylvania have been the worst.  Oh, and if, God Forbid, you get in FRONT of someone from New Jersey, they honk their horns and flip you the bird all the way down the road. There's no forgiveness there.  Get.Out.Of.The.Phucking.Way!

I saw the movie, "Phenomenon", starring John Travolta last night while in the company of my family.  I believe that the movie reveals the true meaning of life and death:  Energy.  Where does it all go and how are YOU using it?

Positive energy:  I am looking for a new job.  If anyone wants to employ me: amerab@gmail.com.

The Romanian has 100% turned her lifestyle around because of her heart attack.  Before I left Kuwait, I had my blood checked and my blood sugar level is high.  In all honesty, I've been a lethargic thang for a long time and have known that I need to do something to get moving.  So, we are both on health kicks.  It is really easy to get complacent in Kuwait.  I don't want to do it anymore.  I'm exercising and eating right.  Did you know that Klondike makes a sugar free ice cream bar?  Who KNEW, right?  Oh ma Gawd!  Why don't we have this kind of selection in Kuwait?  (I would say here, 'The Government should do more to bring better foods into Kuwait' but just thinking it is sending me into a giggle fit because it is such an oxymoron.)

Having said that, if anyone would like to gift me a free gym membership in return for promotional consideration:  amerab@gmail.com.  I'm leaning towards the Radisson because it is right across the street from my house and there aren't as many speedo-clad posers as the Palms.  Ick.  Gelled-back, shiny-long-shoe wearing mofos who drive BMWs and used Range Rovers and live in tiny apartments with 3 room mates all complaining about how Kuwait isn't chic enough for them.  No thank you.

(Totally random):  My favorite new store here is Stein Mart.  Yes, you heard it, folks.  A Jewish department store. I love their stuff and will drive for miles to get to one.  My sister in Texas turned me on to Stein Mart.  So get this:  Yesterday, I was in one of their stores and a Moslem guy walked past me wearing a short dishtasha and qutara (no aghal).  I thought I was in Kuwait for a minute and then I laughed (out loud) at myself.  Dude shot me a very dirty look and probably thought I was laughing at HIM.  Well, WTF?!  I mean, a short-dishtasha-wearing dude in a store called Stein Mart??  How out-of-place does that appear to be?  Lucky he wasn't hauled off for questioning.  I thought about it later.  How random was that?  Very odd!

My sister is still pondering the reasons that I have been carded TWICE and now it has turned into a topic of conversation during pillow talk for her and my brother-in-law.  Tee heeeee.  Now, you have to understand that my sister is younger than me and drop-dead gorgeous.  I used to be the pretty kid and she was the pudgy kid.  But then around high school, things changed.   Now I'm pudgy and she's pretty.  She was even a leg model for a while.   So, one might imagine how this would be upsetting to her.  Her husband said, "C'mon.  Does she (me) really look 21 or younger?"  Why yes, I do actually and the proof has been the TWO TIMES I've been carded here by people who took their jobs quite seriously, thankyouverymuch.  They could lose their jobs and be sued if they didn't get my ID.  It is a very serious matter.  MASHALLAH. LOOOOOL.  Why you gotta be haters?

I need to go through my sister's make-up now.  It is my ritual when I come to visit to see if anything is worthy of stealing.  I'm sure she knows this.  If she didn't, she does now.  Most of the time, I don't see anything I like and if I do and then steal it, I feel guilty and tell her outright that I did it.  "I stole your Chanel foundation. Sorry, but I did and I'm keeping it."  Bada BING.  Hey!  She's welcome to come to my house in Kuwait ANY time and do the same thing to me.  She won't find Chanel, but she's welcome to anything else.  It's what sisters do, right?  Borrow, aka steal.

Have any of you been into Spencer's Gifts lately?  O.M.G.!  It has turned into a sex shop.  I love it.  It is totally mainstream, but then you walk in and start seeing walls of "things."  I got out my camera and started clicking.  People must think (rightfully so) that I'm insane.  I sent a picture of the GILF Love Doll to Special K.  K is one of the few people in my life who can truly appreciate that type of humor.  Innocents:  GILF means "Grandma I'd like to (friend)."  Maybe for your birthday, K!  (Now I'm just cracking myself up.) That store has been around since I was a teenager.  We used to go there to buy posters and stupid stuff (just as my nephew is doing now.  Dude!  Who wants a poster of THAT for your dorm room.

Why am I in here when the weather is nice and I'm going swimming now.  Happy day, y'alls, from the northern-most Southern State of Virginia!

Sunday, August 05, 2012

On vacation in the States

Yes it is August again and t'was the time to get the phuck outa Dodge.

So I left Kuwait right after Ramadan started.  As usual, to spend the summer with my family.  Travelling is nice, but I don't have people to travel with really - unless it is for short trips around the Gulf or whatever.  Plus, I don't want to miss an opportunity to be with my mother.  Every summer for the past 16 years, I have been back here at home so that I can be with my people.

This year was a big birthday for my mom, so I took her on a road trip.  She mentioned that it would be our "Thelma and Louise" trip.  I said no, it would be more like Miss Daisy and Holk.  1000 miles of greenery, mountains, and sea along the Eastern coast to Block Island in Rhode Island.  I haven't seen some of my friends in Rhode Island for over 20 years and really should re-connect, but alas, this wasn't the trip.  This trip belonged to my mom and it was all about her.  (The drive isn't bad at all and I hope to catch up on another future trip.)

Nothing has changed much - it all looked the same even after all these years.  Only smaller.  We spent a summer at a vacation cottage on year when I was maybe 10 years old.  We stayed in a 2 room cottage on Point Judith close to the Block Island ferry and beaches.  I have always been very independent.   I had my Labrador Retriever and used to take the ferry with him, alone, to the island where we would spend time just wandering around and sharing ice cream. He was my best friend.  No one ever bothered us, but a 10 year old alone with a dog today on a 1-hour ferry trip out to a busy tourist island today would be unheard of.

My mom and I stayed with her friend in a very similar summer cottage, right down the street from where I stayed as a child.  I don't believe any of the houses in the area have air conditioning; at least not the one where we stayed nor the hotel where we stayed on the island.  I'm still getting the salt air dampness out of my clothes and my hair was impossible to dry even with my professional-salon-quality hair dryer.  It really made me miss the AC in Kuwait and the dry air.

I had a favorite beach that summer; an out-of-the way place that few people knew about. It was very clean and right next to a long break-water.  There was a little cave in the break-water and we used to play in there.  I found a dime there once from the 1940's (and lost it again).  Mom and I drove down there and it is now a "gated community".  The gate was broken and we drove through.  Not what I would have expected of a "gated community":  It was full of expensive, decorative double-wides that resembled small-sized replicas of opulent beach homes.  I wish I could have taken pictures.  It was so weird!  I've never seen mobile homes like that in my whole life!  Some of them were 2 storeys high and had big bay windows.  They even appeared to have atriums.  My sister has a REAL beach house in a very nice area and these double-wides seem to resemble that neighborhood (only my sister's doesn't have a trailer hitch in the front of it).  We were told that some of the "homes" in the "gated community" sell for as much as $600,000.  Whaaaaat???

I learned more Naragansette history on this trip than I ever had.  I didn't know that the whole area around the Point used to be a military base and that during World War II, the Government set up fake houses to make the Germans believe that there was a community there, so that the Germans couldn't land and infiltrate.  Who knew?  That explains some of the older, really small pre-fab cottages.  And from what I was told, many of the German U-boats were sank right off the coast and people dive in them.  Fasssscinating.

There is a glut on lobster at the moment and prices have plummeted.  We had lunch at a place called Champlains at the docks.  I had a 1-pound lobster and noticed that other people were getting 3-pounders.  Lobster envy!

We were able to take the car on the ferry over to the island with reservations way in advance.  I was a little surprised at the cost - $100 round-trip - but it was worth doing.  We had a cooler with us (my mom would have a thrombosis if she didn't have her nightly glass of wine) and all of our luggage.  I'm one of those people who has anxieties over logistics; I need to know all the details and have things worked out well in advance, so having our own car with us was a huge relief to me.  (I felt the same way when my car arrived in Kuwait from the States, six months after I first arrived to work there.)

We stayed at a small hotel. Everything on the island is Victorian-style.  Some of the hotels date back to that era; hundreds of years old.  Mom and I both agreed that staying in one of the older hotels would freak us out too much.  We are both too worried about fire and hundred-year-old structures made of hundred-year-old lumber and going up several floors make for a bad combination.  We stayed on a 1st floor of a 2-storey hotel with no air conditioning.  It was okay - we both slept well with a fan on.  With global warming, these people are seriously going to have to offer AC as an option at some point.

Rhode Island is like no other place on Earth. They have their own dialect, their own food groups, their own culture really.   If you haven't been there, you should sometime.  There are many different cultures mixed together in the smallest state in the US:  Italians, English, Irish, Portuguese, Cape Verdian.  Because there are so many cultures living in the same area, the food is amazing as you can imagine.

(Stella, you would LOVE it.  Newport is the place for you and my Irish Cousin to go check out.)

Newport is where all the mansions are and the streets are small and European-style.  Many still have cobblestones; many are hundreds of years old.  Ocean Drive is full of gorgeous mansions woven into a rocky sea shore with crashing waves.  The mansions are the Victorian-era homes of the uber-wealthy (Rockefellers, Dukes, etc.) and date back to a time when there was no property tax.  After the homes were taxed, many became museums, gifted to the State by the families.  My favorite is Mable House.  Maybe compared to some of the "villas" of the royal families in the Gulf (UAE for example), these mansions could be similar.  The difference is that they are steeped in history.  Passing them, you can almost see ladies with perrisols walking down the boulevard while horse-drawn carriages passed.

The beaches are different in Rhode Island:  I love the stone and rock beaches with miles of washed up seaweed, fishing rope and lobster pots.  My mother and I walked along a beach at Point Judith on a foggy morning.  You couldn't see very far off the end of the break waters, but you could see the tide washing in, hear the sound of the sea rattling the stones up and down as the waves rolled out, seagulls overhead, and the fog horn from the lighthouse at the Point.  Yes yes, I have been to the most romantic places on Earth with my mother.  It is my destiny.  It is the Universe phuckin with me in the most major way. But then hey, I can't tell you how much I adore my mother and how I would do anything in the world for her.

Food!  I had clamcakes, lobster, Del's Lemonade, Gray's ice cream, and lobster and corn fritters that were out of this world.  I know I shouldn't have, but they are vacation calories and they don't count.  My mother lost 2 pounds.  I don't believe in scales. I won't get on one.  I'm SURE that I have lost weight too.  Yup

To get to Rhode Island, we took a longer route than straight up 95, going through the Pocono Mountains.  I saw a few Amish people in buggies and we stopped in a small town for lunch (Litiz, Pennsylvania) at a restaurant called the Tomato Pie Cafe.  Very odd little place.  My mother got out of the car before me and an old man looked at her and told her, "You need to go home."  and walked away.  It became the joke of the trip.  I had never tried tomato pie before and yumm - very good.  I'm going to have to look up that recipe.

So far, I have been carded for ID twice on this trip.  I think my sister is starting to feel jealous.  I'm not going to laugh or make fun of that.  That wouldn't be nice.  So wrong.  Both times, I have been with my nephew.  the first time, the waiter took my ID, looked at it and let out a shocked, "OH!"  The second time, I told the waitress that my nephew and I were a couple and that I used to be his math teacher, and now we could be together openly because he just turned 18.  My sister had a giggle fit.

The trip isn't over yet.  I'm here until Eid and then I go back to Kuwait.  I miss my friends. I miss my Desert Dawg.  I wish Kuwait was closer.  It is going to be very difficult (again) to leave here.