Swimming cap- check!

Ladies Club

In great Tay Tay fashion, you have to wear a swimming cap at the ladies club pool. I finally bought one today, and let me say, I'm excited to debut it. And though I do not think it the most hydrodynamic, it was the cutest amongst the boring solid caps of blue and black, although they did have one that would have made me look like a rainbow snow cone, but I was like, no too gay. And now my golden locks will be protected from the harsh green chlorine. Plus it leaves my head smelling latex fresh, which is weird in most situations, but to me, it smells like mama.

Professional Synchronized Swimmer

I also had to buy non cotton shorts to cover my very exposed legs at the WOMEN's ONLY pool. What the h y'all. It's bad enough I have to hide my six pack, now I gotta cover up the gams too. So my shorts are purple, my suit is purple, and my fabulous cap is purple. Tell me if I start to look a little too Grimace.

Grimace

Oops!

I stepped on a lizard (not Scotty "The Lizzaad" Cohen) on my run tonight. Let's hope alls I did was break off his tail. I'm gonna be honest though, he's probably sidewalk kill. What was the lil' bastard doing under a beautiful, crunchy leaf anyway?? He had to be suicidal.

And if you say I match my shirt, I will punch your face off. You try jogging in 90 degrees, feels like 98 at night with 69% humidity! I believe is something very similar to hell.


PS keep an eye out for my bday blog! It was banging.

Happy Mother's Day!

One day isn't enough to celebrate that that is my mom. Anyone who knows Debbi, loves her.

She's sweet enough to cause a tooth ache, which is convenient 'cause she can also fix it. And she's prettier than the days are long.

She cooks me dinner. She's always baking. She does her hair. She loves to garden. She's funny, happy, and cheerful. She goes to church. She lets me borrow her car. She's a great mom, a great grandma, and a great wife. She's the perfect lady!

HAPPY HAPPY Mother's Day Moma.

Wish I was there to celebrate with you, and share part of my birthweek thunder.

46 more days in sandland

Jasmine keeps calling it sandland, so it has caught on with me.

Since there is so little time (MK&AO shout out) left here, all I want to do is make the most of it with my kiddies by hugging them all the time and taking their pictures to capture their cuteness. When I hug a few of them, like Hessa and Ghina and Zayed, I squeeze like I'm not going to see them again. I could cry if I let myself, but I don't. Can't seem weak in front of the kids, you know how it is. They are amazing huggers too, like sincere, genuine hugs.

Anyway here are a few pics from the other day (the day after we made the crowns).

Hessa the amazing photographer she is, snapping a shot of me and Alreem in PE.

Z Z Tot and Uncle Fester

Jasmine being tackled with cuteness. That is Rahaf's twin, Noof, and the other one is Nadia. What you can't see is Hessa (in the bottom right corner being cuter than all three combined. Sorry Jazz, she's cuter).

My two darling criminals, Zayed Zeail and Nitish.

Tariq (starting his weeking off early in his cute lil' shorts) and Waad before going home on Thursday.
Asad (purposely being cut in half by the frame), Bryan, Rahaf (in the back), Waad, and Weam.

KG1D makes some more crowns!

Art time again for the bright young future of the UAE, and you know what that means... Miss Dana tries to find some decent art supplies at a "book store" and only comes up with these sticker foam jewels things. I thought it'd be fun if they got to make crowns again. The kids love it, and I love the kids, so it's a win win situation.

Front to back, left to right: Ghina (hamming it up for the camera. I LOVE her), Alreem (she's pretty, but she's old for my class), Nekesha (shy and sensitive), Weam (super cute still).

Danis (getting cuter by the day), Abdul Rahman (and his Arab fro), Nitish (NOT in his freaking seat), Masud (always clowning for the camera too), Asad (being boring as always), Mugesh (looking like an Indian prince), Bryan (you can't fully see), and Tariq (you can't fully see).

This is my background on my computer right now! Hessa (with her pervy look), Mutia (with full excitement), Waad (looking happy as a clam), Rahaf (being cute and posey), and Zayed Zeail (just being mental!). I love my class. It really makes working for idiots seem much better!

This is Eman. She's my new Pakistani student, and speaks very little English. To put it plainly, most of the time she looks like a boy in an anime cartoon, but up close she is keeeyoot! Look at those sparkley eyes! You could get lost in them, like a black hole. But don't do it. She never sits in her seat!

Alreem is goign to be a beautiful woman. She looks like Isabella (Jeremy's neice) to me. And good ol' Abdul Rahman. That's not how you wear your crown prince.

Magnificent Mutia

Look at this pretty girl!

Look at how pretty her work is too! I don't even ask it to look this anal!

Seriously??

Ms. Jenny, my idiot boss, came into my class today and caught Ms. Irene (my Filipino helper) talking about art. Although she didn't hear what we were saying, she assumed we were gossiping or some crap and left in a strop. Then came back a minute later, asked for Irene, took her outside and yelled at her for probably 10 mins, telling here that she is not allowed to talk to me during class.

WHAT!? Irene is my helper. She is supposed to be helping me in the class with the kids and preparing stuff for math, phonics, language and wait for it... art!

Jenny didn't tell me anything, she just picked on Irene because she is the helper, and Jenny is racist and knows that the helpers will not argue with her, unlike any of the teachers.

So now poor Irene is scared to talk to me in class. Instead she frowns at me, as if to say sorry.

Crumb turns 4 today

HAPPY BIRTHDAY Crumby! I wish I was at Crumbpalooza with all your closest friends (me, mom, and dad), rubbing your belly, feeding you dog-friendly cake, helping you open the presents I bough for you, and taking you on a long walk, but alas, I am sweating here in sand land. I miss the crap out of you dawg, and think about you everyday. See you in 48 days!

PS Happy Cinco de Mayo to America. Emphasis on the lack of drinko de Mayo, as well as America. As you know, boozing here is illegal, as well as fun, so I will soberly go to bed. But hey, at least I'm not in jail right?

Yowza!

Guess who has 2 thumbs and didn’t throw up or pass out because of the heat!? This guy (me).

Ana told me that her car said it was 48 degrees Celsius (ew metric, now I’m gonna ralph) on Saturday. Yeah, yeah we’re talking. That doesn’t mean I don’t hate her, it just means that I’m going to start passive aggressively destroying her. Anyway, 48 degrees is 118 degrees in Farenheit! And Timmy’s car, a black 2004 Golf, so of course I trust it more, said it was 50! That’s 122 y’all. Like honestly, how did these Bedouin champs survive out here before there was AC!?!

UPDATE 4:

What’s a 4-letter word that ends in unt that you can call a female (not to her face of course)? I’ll five you a hint- it’s not aunt.

In short, my roommate, Ana, is retarded and a huge bitch and yeah. She asked me to not bring over Jasmine anymore because she is creating a “reputation” for our apartment. Reputation? What, as like the fun house? She said that people at the senior school were saying that she even went to jail. And the night of her debaucherous actions, she hid in our house. In reality, she definitely spent the night, but did she “hide” here, no. She didn’t even know she was in trouble ‘til like 3 days after the ordeal. She merely forgot her keys in her house like a drunk, and needed to wait until her roommates woke up to let her in. Of course I explained this all to sweet little Ana, as well as telling her that she was being ridiculous and retarded and over reacting. It was not a pretty sight. I told here that if she was so worried about reputations, she should be more concerned about her own (oh snap). She is known as the Romanian Wanton of Ruwais. Not really, I just made that up, but she has, in fact, garnered quite the slutty rep herself, and personally I would much rather people think me a shitshow than a whore, but then again, that’s just me being prude again.

Wanna know what the hood rat looks like?!

Like OMG, this is her profile pic on Facebook. Reputation, Schmeputaion, this trick's a first class who-er.

UPDATE 3:

After her 3 day stint in a women’s facility in Abu Dhabi, Jasmine returned to the "free" world 3,000 Dirhams poorer (that's about 820 bones) and absolutely not wiser. If anything it made the country seem more stupid to say the least.

So how was prison in the Middies?

Who: Mainly Russians and Filipinos (Filipinas?)

What: She was transported in shackles and a green jumpsuit. Other women had different colors of sashes on their green suits ranging from the less severe yellow, which meant 2-3 month sentence, to the murderous red. There was only 1 red at the prison. For breakfast she said they served “caca,” for lunch they served bread, and for dinner they served “vomit” but really this all could be a number of Middle Eastern dishes and plus she’s a picky bint. All she ate was lunch, and once a fly landed on it, she couldn’t finish it. After 2 days without water, she asked for a cup and the cafeteria lady handed her a dirty cup. She screamed and threatened the UN on her. The lady washed it and handed it back to her in a huff.

When: Everyone there had been there for at least 2 months. They all said that “British/American passports, very nice” and wished they had one of their own because it got you out much much quicker. One Russian bird was in for the same thing Jasmine was, had already been there for 2 months, and hadn’t even been sentenced.

Where: An air conditioned prison in Abu Dhabi

Why: The Russians for forging visa documentation (though this probably was a euphemism for prostitution because honestly who forges documents to get IN to the Middle East, not to mention most Russians are tutes anyway… is that racist?) and the Filipinas for kissing their boyfriends in public slash for being Filipino.

How: The British embassy came and talked to the prison, and she was out the next day. It is good to be British. It's still better to be American!

More censorship

Today while watching Rachel Ray, don't judge, I live in the desert, and there are only so many English channels, and there was nothing on, and plus they had given a make-over to a mother who had had a mullet since she was 7, and like what do I have to justify why I was watching that hoarse trick anyway.... deep breath. Okay. So while I was watching Rachel Ray, she was making these breakfast biscuits that had egg, cheese, and bacon in them. They looked decent at best, but that isn't the point. When she was mixing all of the ingredients together, she was like "you can use turkey bacon or @*$% bacon." Now take a wild guess which four-lettered word the UAE bleeped out. Pork. I kid you not, they bleeped out the word pork. Well either that, or she was talking about fuck bacon.

So it's haram to hear the word pork, but you can pork up to 4 women as long as you're married to them. Yeah that makes sense.

More phallacies

Rahaf, in my class, has an identical twin sister in Jasmine's class, Noof. Although the two look exactly the same, their personalities differ greatly. Point in case, Rahaf is cute, Noof is a perv.

Jasmine, being the more prepared teacher for her students, prints out their work and pastes it into these notebooks we call copybooks. This is where the kids get to practice writing without a worksheet, in a book, in a worksheet format, but in a book.... Same shit different smell though, ya know?! Whatever. Anyway, here is an example of Noof's copybook for the sound O. See how she was supposed to draw an octopus, as in O O Octopus, and then write the letter O on the provided lines? Minus the pupil-less eyes and the disregard of a leg, I would say pretty good.

Now this is what she drew for P. See how she so did not draw a P P Panda.


Repeat after me KG1E: P P Penis. P P Penis. P P Perv. P P Perv.

Easter in Ruwais

I know it is a little later, but I forgot to tell you about Easter in the Middies.

First off it started like every other day, and to cut quickly to the chase, it ended like any other day. It was a holiday, so we didn't have to work. Yayer! Instead I lounged around and watched Angel for the majority of the day, and Jasmine cooked me some lamb with mint sauce, mashed potes, and stuffing.

Then after dinner, my new roommate, Zeinab wanted a tour of Ruwais, like there is really much to see... BUT we did it anyway. As Jasmine and I are starting to meet Zeinab at the park by my house, the lightening and thunder is tremendous! I mean forks of electricity and deep, loud, long drums of thunder. I felt like I was in 0 AD and Jesus was being resurected that night. That must have been what it was like right? Like massive action and magic in the sky. It was pretty epic to say the least, but then it started to rain on our walk, and I was having a good bang day, and those come so rarely, so I was a smidge upset.

OH but then there was this Emirati on a motorcycle cruising next to us when it was still only sprinkling. That is what these men do here, they cruise around and check out the people walking, in hopes they will be women. They circle the block and make it completely obvious they are looking at you. It's annoying to say the least. Anyway, this man on a motorcycle kept speeding up and down the street and showing off doing tricks and stuff, as if it would have impressed us. Any other day it would have been obnoxious, which it still was, but that day, Easter, with the lightening and the thunder, he was popping a wheelie (as I hear the kids call it these days) right when this giant horizantal bolt of lightening flashed, and I couldn't help but feel I was in a Meatloaf video. If it weren't some retard, I would say it would have defined rad, and I don't throw that definition around, but instead it just defined tool. It will forever be burned into my brain though as a happy memory from this awesome hole.

It's good to be friends with Emiratis!

So I'm not much into cars. I mean I like them, well I do love them, like the way you love your computer. Like I am dependent on her, and I am affectionate her, but I don't take pristine care of her, and I don't really care if too much happens to her. Also, I don't really do any extra curricular reading about cars (0r computers for that matter). But my friend, Ahmed, rented an Audi r8 for my other friend, Nasima's, birthday. So at the party, after I left, everyone got to take it for a spin. Luckily for me, I bumbed into him and his muscle car on my hour break, so he let me do the same!

Fast cars are perfect for the E11. The highways is almost perfectly strait, there are rarely any other cars on it, and you know where the radars are so you can easily avoid them.

I got to 220 km/h which is only like 136.7 mph (which is faster than I have ever driven!), and pussed out because it was broad daylight, and I don't want to go to jail like a certain someone I know.

The car was nice, enough. Annoyingly low, red interior, and automatic. Even though it is automatic it still shifts like Amie (hey yo for the A Yo!), which for those who haven't been blessed to drive with my dearest friend/sister, she lives up to both her Asian and woman stereotypes. But that is besides the point. I don't get why it needs to so obviously switch gears. I get it, you're a sports car, you like to rev the RPMs, but you are also an Audi, and that means you are luxury, and I want to luxuriously go from 0-60 in 4.4 seconds without the jolt of each gear. But hey, I don't know cars.

Warning!

Chicken pox is going around!

Most of my class got it last month, but I expect the rest of them to get it soon. They enjoy showing me their nasty scabs.

Yesterday 56 kids were absent from it. That is about 23% of the school! (yes I just did the math)

Even Mr. Rashide, our mid 30s gatekeeper has it! I laughed at him. But we're cool like that. Yes, I realize that it is much more serious to catch when you are older. We're not worried. The clinic here is very well prepared.... ha.

There is a rumor going around that Jasmine has the chicken pox. I'm letting people go with it. I don't want to be the one that drops the she's-actually-in-jail bomb.

UPDATE:

Actually the UAE does in fact give a crap about making an example of someone.

Jasmine has been in jail for the past 3 days.

She went in to the municipal court for her "apology" during her lunch, and 8 hours later, I got a text from her saying that she would have to pay a fine and go to jail. Then at 10:30 I got a call from her saying that she was going to be moved to the women's facility in Madinat Zayed which is like 45 minutes away to stay the night there, with a potential transfer to the Abu Dhabi lock up or whatever for 7 days.

That was 3 days ago.

Now she is in Abu Dhabi, and most likely coming back to this awesome* hole in 1-2 days.

On the bright side she didn't have to work this whole week. On the dark side, I had to cover some of her classes.

I will keep the updates a comin' to let you know if it gets too Guantanamo/Brokedown Palace.


*shit

Awesome UAE!

Okay so last Thursday started off to be just like any other Thursday- one, maybe two people wanted to go to the Danat, and the rest of us were just easily convinced. But unfortunately, or fortunately, however you look at it, most of us girls were really in the dancing mood, which meant the men were in the buying mood, which meant we were in the drinking mood. So one thing lead to another, and eventually police were knocking on my door at 4 am, I’m in my PJs, and I so was not in that kind of mood. Of course there are many missing pieces to this story, like what happened from 11pm to 4 am; that’s not because they are too incriminating or anything, but rather because they are just too boring and typical to be included. And by typical, I mean I didn’t lose my phone or camera, so it couldn’t have been that typical. Actually I don’t think I brought them, but that’s besides the point. Anyway, we came, we danced, we conquered, but then we went home.

Now if you are confused to as why the police were at my house looking for what seemed to be Lorrayne, so was I. I said that I thought she was in her house, asked why they needed her, they couldn’t understand me, and that was basically it. So minutes after they left, I creeped upstairs in case they were still there, which they were, and army crawled from one end of the apartment to the other so they couldn’t see me, which they could. I asked Lorrayne why they needed her, and she thought it was because Jasmine was being loud and rude to the cops. Jasmine loud and rude? Nhhoow! Never! The cops went to Jasmine’s house about a domestic disturbance call they got from Mr. Sala, the man that lives directly below me (umm this is why you don’t let families live near a large group of shit shows) and they knocked on Jasmine’s door for questioning, but when they wouldn’t/couldn’t show her identification that proved they were in fact officers of the law, and not just some Emirati creeps knocking on her door in dish dashes in the wee hours of the nicgh, she kinda threw a tantrum, yelled, and took their pictures.

Yeah, so we woke up the next day, thirsty and confused.

So this is what really happened (as I understand it):

Mr. Sala woke up around 4 to get some water to find his front door wide open. Worried there was an intruder in his house, he called the cops. That same night, two Indian men at the Indian camp had gotten into a deadly fight over money or something, resulting in one murder and one critical injuries, therefore, the cops were on very high alert. The cops showed up coincidentally at the same time all of us got home. The cops then started questioning anyone who was around at that time, Jasmine included. Jasmine started to make a scene (this is where she took yelled at them “You are stupid! Your country is stupid!” took their pictures, etc) and Lorrayne came down to save Jasmine from herself, so she didn’t get into too much trouble with the authority. Mr. Sala told the cops he thought they went to my house, so the cops came to ask me where they were. I said upstairs, they couldn’t understand me, they left empty handed.

Did you know that it is illegal to be drunk in the UAE? It is also illegal to buy alcohol from a hotel you are not a guest at, to say mean things to someone else, and to take a picture of someone without their permission.

Therefore Jasmine, who was guilty of all 4, had to go in for questioning at the police station at 9:30 last night.

Her punishment: to say sorry to the officer at the municipal court for calling him and his country stupid.

And they say their country isn’t stupid.

Happy Birthday!

to the love of my life, and best friend:

Party responsibly on your 21st. We don't want anymore DUIs.

Oh yeah and to a Mr. Patrickbon, you're older too!

POPS IS COMING!

I'm very excited!

This is the tentative plan, because I know you all are oh so interested :

• Fri- 4/3: Pops arrives in Dubai around 5:30 pm. We check into our swanky, yet affordable hotel. HOTEL TIME! I hope they have high ceilings because the last time I got to have hotel time with pops, I was a bit shorter then, and couldn't jump as high! Walk to the fabulous Mall of the Emirates, I buy a camera, dad hits the slopes for some indoor skiing. We grab a shwarma before hittin' the hay.
  
• Sat- 4/4: Wake up to sunny Dubai. I show dad the architectural wonders that prove the UAE must be compensating for something including the Burj Al Arab, and the Burj Dubai. then relax by the pool until our desert safari, which commences at 4. Then we will dune bash (which is a fancy way of saying 'mobbing,' which is a white trash Bako way of saying 'driving a 4x4 in the dunes while scarying the living daylights out of the passangers'), camel ride, sand surf, see how the Bedouins lived, get henna, do sheesha, eat BBQ meats, belly dance (well watch it, I do not B dance myself... maybe pops will be into it... OH MY GOSH, he better not be into it! I will die! I'm dying just thinking about him dancing!), and drink. Then it's back to the hotel by 10!
  
• Sun- 4/5: Pool time until check out. Catch a taxi to Sharjah for flight to Alexandria, Egypt at 15:00 courtesy of Air Arabia. I swore I'd never fly them again, but their cheap deals are just too intising! Arrive in Alexandria at 17:00 (3 hour flight with 2 hour time difference). Take in the Mediterranian for the rest of the night.
• Sat- 4/6: Wake up early-ish to go to the WWII thing my dad wants to see. Something about some attack from Tabrouq. You'll have to ask him. Or wikipedia it yourself. See the Kom Al Shoqafa catacombs. Take in the last of the Mediterranian, then leave for Cairo by the night.
  
• Sun- 4/7: Wake up in Cairo for an AM tour of the pyramids and sphyinx. Pops wants to see the sunrise on the pyramids, but I'd settle for sunset. Then I plan to find a baby in the Nile, survive some plagues, set an army of Jewish slaves free, part the Red Sea, wander the desert for 40 years, oh and check out some of the markets. I hear they drive a hard bargin, but I'd like to brave 'em.
  
• Mon- 4/8: Depart Cairo for Abu Dhabi at 9:00. Arrive in Abu Dhabi at 14:00. Sitesee a little in Abu Dhabi which means drive by the rad mosque and the Palace hotel. Maybe go to a mall, but probably not. Show dad what I do every weekend, then drive back to Ruwais. Do the Danat (our Western bar, and by Western I mean Philipino) then do the Dhafra (our Arabic bar. Arabic bar? you ask. Yes, Arabic bar. But I thought Muslims weren't allowed to booze? Oh they're not. That's why no cameras allowed. It's where I accidentally bump into my students' dads, and then they pretend to not notice the blonde teacher at school on Sunday when they are dropping off their little Zayed. That really hasn't happened... yet).
  
• Tues- 4/9: Tour de Ruwais. Show Pops KG1D! Go to the Danat beach which is much nicer than their bar and finally catch some much needed vitamin D.
  
• Wed- 4/10: Dad leaves in great Moore fashion- at the buttcrack of dawn, kisses, hugs, tears, then I celebrate Haley Joel Osment's birthday.

Can't wait! Just 3 days!

PS 88 days 'til I come home!! And 44 days 'til I'm 23!! (ew)