My Favorite Steve In The Whole World

Steve, you now have Official Kate's Most Favorite Steve In The Whole World status.

Not that there was too much competition, but you have raised the bar considerably. Welsh Aerobics Instructor Steve With A Beer Belly Who Bought Me A Drink And A Pasty was left floundering in your wake and is now slinking away with his head hanging low in shame.

Hearing some Something For Kate for Kate and getting a plug for my blog has made me forget that I am hungover, miserable, and unlaid. You are fantastic! If I'm ever in Melbourne, be warned that I'm taking you out and buying you a drink or six.

Thanks for making me smile.

Ooooh! And I really liked the song, too. :0)

Happy Birthday Beaky

It’s Beaky’s birthday so I have to wish her a very most happy and fantastic birthday even though I’m going to see her later this afternoon.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEAKY!

I Guess This Is Growing Up

"The timing and structure, did you hear he fucked her"

Although in this situation it would be more appropriate to say, "Did you hear he didn’t fuck her"

Who did that song anyway? What knowledge I had of 90’s pop culture is quickly fading.

So yeah, didn’t get laid. I probably could have, but I’ve got a second date instead. Dunno if I really want one though. We shall see.

Also, I’m hungover. Yet I’m still convinced that neither of us drank enough. Which is my usual sentiment for any drinking situation I can walk (or drive) away from. *Sigh* I miss the carefree falling-down drunk days of Yemen and Italy...

When did I reach a level of maturity where I knew one-night stands and drinking until I pass out weren’t emotionally fulfilling?

Okay, so I knew it wasn’t emotionally fulfilling before, but I didn’t care because it was fun. I don’t want to be a grown up. I don’t like this new-found un-fun self-control.

I’m going to go pout in a corner now. At least until my head stops hurting. Or I manage to recapture some immaturity.

Another New Poll!

Votes are greatly appreciated.

Dear My Male Readership:

Okay boys, I'm goin' on a date. I haven't been on a date in a while so I need yer advice*. I have no idea what to wear. Which isn't exactly true, I have lots of ideas, but I don't know what to choose. We're going to a wine bar which I'm assuming will be casual, yet not sloppy. Here are the options I've come up with so far:

Upper half:

-Burgundy velvet top
-Slinky black v-neck sweater
-Sleeveless yet boob enhancing black turtleneck sweater
-Pale blue or ivory (I have two because I was obsessed last year) Victoria's Secret sweater that is soft and delightful (like this but different colored)


-Pale pink VS push-up bra (this one in "sweet pink")
-Emma lace bra (this one in black, ivory, buff, black with floral design, and somewhere lost in my room is a bright pink one)
-Second skin satin bra (this one in ivory, black, navy blue, and orchid)
-Tartiest bra in the world (mine is light blue)

Lower half

-Jeans
-Khakis
-Black gabardines

-Second skin satin hipsters (black)
-Second skin satin high cut brief (black, navy blue, orchid, fuscia, and ivory)
-Emma stretch lace high cut brief (black, black with floral design, ivory, nude)

-Black sandals
-Other black sandals
-Italian black leather boots (I can't find a picture as the Cuoieria Fiorentina website is deficient)


Ummm, yeah, those are my options.
Thanks for your input. ;0)

*No, MikeyPants, I'm not considering going naked

Mikey's Proposal(s)

As you may or may not have noticed, SuperMikeyPants has asked me to marry him on not one, not two, but three, count 'em three blog comment sections since last night. So I suppose I should respond...

I will marry you MikeyPants, but only on the following conditions:

1. You understand that the only reason I would ever consider getting married is so I can get divorced. The duration of the marriage is negotiable, but I want to get divorced at some point.
2. You have no expectations of fidelity. I won't expect it of you either. Not that I sleep around (I haven't actually had sex for over 6 months), but I like to keep my options open.
3. You raise the children. I have no objections to pregnancy and in fact find the idea kind of cute, but I don't like small children. Or teenagers. Or people in general for that matter.
4. You dress up like a priest on occasion, as that is one of my favorite kinks.
5. You do the grocery shopping. I hate grocery stores.
6. You clean. I don't. Hiring someone is also acceptable.
7. You are patient with the fact that I am both agoraphobic and claustrophobic and I don't like people most of the time.
8. You are comfortable sleeping on the couch or have a 2 bedroom place. I sleep alone.
9. You accept the blame for everything, all the time as you are a boy and that is your job.
10. Oooh, and you'll have to finance my global meanderings as I am running out of money and have no job.


Does anyone wonder why I'm still single?

I don't...

My Goal

On Saturday, I hope to have a pleasantly RBF facial expression. If I don't, it's not for lack of trying.

Admonitions That Don't Work

1. Whatever you do, don't look down.
2. Don't look now, but the guy behind you is staring.
3. Kate, stop fellating your chapstick.

Mark Yer Calendars People

Saturday shall be a fun day all around the world. Okay, fine so it will be Sunday in Australia, but it will still be Saturday most other places. Yep, that's right, SuperSteve is on the radio again. And he's going to play some Something For Kate for Kate, which is just fun to say.

Anyway, not only is Steve on the radio, but it is also Beaky's birthday. She's going to be an old lady just like me, except 16 days younger. Mwahahahahahahahaha!

Beyond those two events, it is my last weekend of freedom for at least 5 months. The 'rents are moving back from their summer place which I think is very tacky of them, but they didn't ask me. And really I shouldn't complain, but they drive me crazy, er crazier than usual. So if you don't hear from me for a while it's because I've gone to prison for murder or moved to Kyrgyzstan and left no forwarding address.

Now I'm Really Getting Ahead Of Myself

Mmmm, yes. So, in researching my trip for this summer (most likely horse-trekking in Kyrgyzstan) I've come across next summer's trip. My mission, should I actually accept it, is to go around the world via Siberia. The shape the voyage is taking so far is this:

Denver - Hong Kong (by air via San Francisco)
3 days in Hong Kong visiting Kah Yeim and Claudia
Hong Kong - Beijing (by train - 24 hours 18 minutes)
3 days in Beijing visiting Xiao Ke (provided she's not in Italy)
Beijing Ulan - Bataar (by train - 30 hours)
4 days in Mongolia seeing what can be seen
Ulan-Bataar - Irkutsk (by train - 7 hours)
3 days putzing around Lake Baikal
Irkutsk - Moscow (by train - 77 hours)
2 days (as I will have already been there once and probably won't need more time)
Moscow - Brussels (by train via Belarus, Poland, and Germany - 35 hours)
1 or two days
Brussels - London (by train - 26 hours)
3 or 4 days (depending if Mariangela is back from Kuwait)
London - Denver (by air)
Try to guickly get over jet-lag and whatever intestinal parasite I picked up so as to start classes in top condition

I'm drooling thinking of all of the pretty visas... I'm estimating it'll run about $4,000 for 35ish days, which really for 8 countries and flights is not bad at all. One has to hope the dollar won't tank again between now and then.

I need to get a life, although I can think of worse ways to spend a Saturday...

PS The spellchecker is geographically incompetent. It tried to tell me that Irkutsk should be "workouts".

I Hate Ants

Ants are the most vile, horrible creatures ever invented. They should have been stopped long, long ago*. With all their little legs and body segments.

*Shudder shudder*

No, I'm not one of those squeamish people who freaks at the mere idea of a bug, in fact I have a very lovely picture of myself wearing a large black scorpion (from tip to tail about 7 inches) on a strawberry farm in Malaysia. I just hate ants.

I found one in my ear earlier. Much hysterical shrieking ensued and I still feel like I have the little bastards crawling all over me. And that is after 2 showers.

*Much like my aunt who is also vile and horrible and should have been stopped long, long ago, but that is a whole other story...

All That And A Bag Of Chips

Or maybe just a bag of chips.

I have to say Lay's Sour Cream and Cheddar are absolutely divine. I'm usually a Ruffles girl, but damn. I'm nearly converted.

*Sigh*

Now, all I need is chocolate and life would be completely wonderful.

SuperKate's Answer To The Gauntlet

I remember the last time I woke up in a Mexican Border Jail. The night before I’d had an appointment with Jose. Halfway through the bottle I had a Taco Bell craving. Running for the border was suddenly the only thing I could think of.

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Jose is convincing like that. What Jose failed to warn me about, however, was the barbed wire. I had no idea that barbed wire could stick so deeply into one’s flesh. I should probably also mention that I was naked.

Fortunately, I was found by the Border Patrol before I could tear myself to pieces in a drunken panic. They had to cut it out of me with rusty scissors, which didn't hurt as much as you would think.

100 words, woohooo!

New Poll!

So, I'm trying to decide where to go this August. I'm in search of an adventure because traveling without adventure is very boring (unless you're on a beach in the Maldives, then it's okay) and if I wanted to be bored, I'd stay at home. Suggestions are welcome on the message board.

The Gaunlet Poll Results

Well, after an exciting week of voting, the results of the poll have been tallied.

Here are the numbers I'm sure you've all been gagging to find out:

SuperMikeyPants #1..............7 votes (41%)
EsotericWombat.................. 4 votes (24%)
Steve................................ 4 votes (24%)
The20khzlegend................... 2 votes (12%)
SuperMikeyPants #2............. 0 votes (00%)

I'm guessing SuperMikeyPants took Kennedy's advice to vote early and often.

So, by the end of the day I'll have posted my creation based on MikeyPants' first suggestions.

There Was No Mooing

But one cannot expect to moo on every birthday. And everything else was completely lovely and fantastic, so no complaints.

In preparation for my birthday this year I cleaned my house. It wasn't quite as exciting as last year, but at least all of my hair follicles stayed intact and I didn't have any hot beverages poured on my face.

Then on my actual birthday day, Beaky brought cupcakes to Guest Service Systems. They were completely darling and everyone sang very off-key. Then after class we worked on her blog a bit (added some links, a counter, and a message board) and eavesdropped on the interesting bathroom conversations of her suitemates. After meandering for a while and finding my darling Keiko, we went to Peaberry's for the traditional Thursday afternoon coffee and bullshit (it's a new but lovely tradition). At that point I realized I had lost my cell phone. So we took a fieldtrip to look for it, and because the birthday gods were smiling on me, it was still resting serenely on the chair where I had been sitting. I did a HappyKateDance, and the three of us went over to my house.

Beaky invented my very most favorite birthday song ever. It went something like this:

Happy Birthday to Kate,
Happy Birthday to Kate,
You look like a monkey,
But you still smell great.

Mwahahahahahahahaha...

We went to my favorite Italian restaurant for dinner - Luigi's Bent Noodle. While Keiko and Beaky do know that I was enjoying having cleavage that evening mostly because I kept randomly saying "I've got cleavage*!!!" and pointing excitedly, they don't realize exactly how much fun I was having with it. There was a table of drunk men seated directly behind Beaky. One of them put his sunglasses on when I caught him cleavage-spying for the 5th time. The blonde one kept drunken-sneakily (ie not sneakily at all, but he thought he was) turning around to gaze at boobinal goodness.

Then Chipper called to say he was on his way, so we paid the bill and headed to the grocery store for mixers. At my house I made some rum and cokes and commenced with harassing Keiko to drink faster (it's tradition). Then my darling Chipper arrived and he brought me flowers. They were (and still are, actually) so pretty! He's only the second boy who has ever gotten me flowers (unless you count Abdu Salaam).

Anyway, we proceeded with the evening's activities, which consisted entirely of drinking and being silly. I still maintain that everyone drank too slowly and not nearly enough. I was having none of that for myself. We taught Keiko new and interesting phrases that she couldn't find in her dictionary. We also drunk dialed Beaky's Davey, although it wasn't proper drunk dialing as he gave her permission for such, but it was still fun. Chipper and I took some smoke breaks (I took a break from quitting smoking as it was my birthday) and threw snow balls at the window near where Keiko was trying to do her homework (she wasn't nearly drunk enough to be doing her homework, I know from experience that foreign language homework is much better done when one is plastered). I showed Chipper Poup'ee and found that he really liked Cigar, which is the cologne I kept spilling on myself last week, so he slpashed himself with it and we went back upstairs to continue with the merriment.

As there are no poles in my living room, I tried to make Chipper be a pole, but he wasn't a very good pole, so I tried pole dancing on the banister, but that wasn't very good either, so in the end I had to resort to wall humping, which isn't a great alternative because I still fell over frequently (one of the reasons I love pole dancing is because it gives me something to hold onto so I don't fall over as often). I hope there were no pictures taken though. There are more than enough of the provocative Chipper groping photos... Next time I'll have to have straight boys at my birthday.

No one cried, puked, peed on themselves, or was arrested, and the giggles were frequent and hearty. All in all, I'd say the evening was a success. I didn't even get heartburn. Wonders never cease.

Anyway, thank you to everyone who wished me a happy birthday, and thank you to everyone who helped me celebrate. It was a delightful day. :0)

*I was wearing my very most favorite red velvet top over my favorite and fantastic Victoria's Secret cleavage enhancing push-up bra

Reminiscences

I've been more nostalgic than usual lately, so I'm subjecting you all to my reminiscences of last year's birthday. Hopefully you will be amused. I know it's making me giggle to think about it...

Last year to prepare for my birthday Hannah attacked me with an epilator and then I got hennaed by her cousin. And then, since I was incapacitated (my arms were covered in vaseline and flour, then wrapped in bags and scarves to preserve the henna designs), I had to be hand fed. And Hannah attacked my eyebrows with tweezers. I suppose I was her beautification project for the evening, which was interesting and more than a bit painful.

On my actual birthday we took the girls out to lunch at Villa D'Angelo (the only "Italian" restaurant in Sana'a). Sahar wasn't aware of how spicy real Tobasco is, and, thinking it was like the normal hot sauce, proceeded to pour it all over her pizza. The look on her face, and the sounds that emanated from her mouth as she ate were somehow so tragically funny that Catharine, Stefano, and I nearly fell off our chairs with giggles. And Stefano broke the sunroof on Sabri's car. Just as it started to rain.

When we got back to school, Catharine, Stefano and Aun presented me with my gifts. I got a string of plastic blinking grape lights, the Decoration (a floppy pole of shiny tackiness), and the Computer (a plastic gizmo that played a song that said "I want to dance dance dance 'til the son goes down, I want to kiss kiss kiss 'til the sun comes up" as these two magnetic characters on the screen kissed and danced). I left the computer when I came home in July, but the other things I brought with me because they fit in my suitcade and were just too funny to leave behind.

On the evening of my birthday, a great heaping group of us from the school went to the Sheraton for drinks. I flirted a bit with Anders on the balcony overlooking the city then Suhail was clamoring for attention so I had to go say goodbye to him (he was going back to the States for 2 weeks). Stefano was getting drunk and nostalgic for his ex-girlfriend back in Italy and was annoyed with me because I wouldn't let him use my cell phone to drunk dial her.

Then Arthur showed up and we drank until the bar closed. I guess Arthur was having a nice time though, because he offered to take us back to his house where he had a lot of alcohol. So we all got to ride in the bullet-proof SUV. The best part of the SUV was that it had a loudspeaker attached to it. The silliness began when he told Anders about this. Anders took the mic and began saying to the people on the street "This wehicle* is property of the British government. Back away from the wehicle." This somehow developed into a fun game of driving sneakily up behind pedestrians and mooing loudly**.

Anyway, at Arthur's place we commenced with gratuitous drinking and silly dancing. Christine spilled red wine all over my sweater (she was borrowing it because she had gotten chilly). Stefano kept telling me he loved me, then drinking another shot. I was enjoying myself dancing with Anders and getting lost in the joy that is induced by good white wine (nicely chilled, of course).

Arthur was too drunk to drive us home, so we had to go in search of a taxi (it was around 3:30 on the 15th by then). This made me particularly happy as I was wearing 4 inch heels that were not even close to being broken in. Anders kept laying down and trying to fall asleep on the side of the road. Stefano peed on himself as we were walking. Fortunately before everything got completely insane and miserable we managed to find a small bus that could take all of us home.

Stefano asked if I would help him get out of his pee-encrusted clothes at home and I wasn't down for it (I was drunk and tired and had several large holes in my feet from the shoes) so he got all pissed off saying "It's not like I asked you to fuck me." I said I wasn't interested in that either which really set him off so he spent the rest of the ride cursing at me loudly in Italian. Jessica (who was the only other person there who spoke any Italian) kept grabbing my hand and saying how sorry she was that he was such an asshole.

Anyway, when we finally got home, Stefano was still mad, and completely insane. Apparently he got mad at the doorway just for being there so he said "Fuck you" and slammed his face into it. The next day he remembered none of it so it had to be explained to him why one particular place on his forehead hurt more than the rest of it. And why I wasn't talking to him.

After Stefano went to his room loudly cursing, Catharine (who had been at the office all night instead of out with us) pulled me aside and told me that my "boyfriend***" had left me a little gift. She wouldn't tell me what it was. So, when I got to my room, I found plastic blinking roses attached to my doorknob. They're ever so sexy. Hehehehehehehehe...

Anyway, that was last year’s birthday. It’s strange to think back and remember how different my life was. At that point I would have scoffed loudly at anyone who suggested I would be back in America attending university again. Life is so strange like that, I guess. And I'm curious as to what the next year will bring.

*Apparently Norwegians don't get along with "v" sounds

**If you can't do ugly foreigner things on your birthday, when can you?

***One of the guards, Abdu Salaam, loved me, much to my annoyance and the amusement of everyone else

PS The spellchecker thinks "Epilator" should be "evildoer" and I tend to agree.

Another Year Older

Well, it has been quite a year.

Continents I visited: 4
Countries I visited: Yemen, Eritrea, Germany, USA, England, Italy, Denmark, France, Egypt, and Mexico
Times I moved: 3
Schools I attended: 2
Times I quit smoking: 8
Jobs I quit: 1
Disasterous affairs: 1 1/2
Not-so-disasterous affairs: 2

Perhaps 24 will be a calmer year...

We shall see.

I Miss My Yemenis

*Think cheesey harp music in the background*

I wish we could be
Together to celebrate
Your Special Day
But I want you to know
I'll be celebrating it with you
In my heart -
A heart that's filled
With so much
Love and pride
For you
Now and always

Happy Birthday for the best angel on the world
Have a nice day
with the warm love
Z

Sounds Of Spring

It's nice to hear birds chirping and everything as I walk between classes. But it also makes me really paranoid. The birds here are devious and prone to diarrhea.

I think once a bird's ass exploded over my car. I can find no other explanation for the splatter-pattern.

WTF?

Holy fuck me sideways with a blowtorch Batman!

This is the latest in the Marmeduke saga...

hi : kate
well ; for what concerne my visa i have only tow way
the fist one iS if you accept me as married i mean you send me certifecate that we are marreid
the second is either you incripte my name in one of the university or school in america. so what i want is to help me with one among those two condition. and i hope we to be socciful as long as you are in good condition with health.i know nothing can stop you for helping me .you have faithfulness and fair and pity for other poeple . my allah help everywere you are aroud the world,
GOD BLESS YOU .

For the record, I'd rather eat rancid tuna out of my own ass than marry this dude, or even pretend to marry him. I'd also like to know what "socciful" means

I pointed him in the direction of a website that should have told him that I cannot get him a visa. But yet again, he seems not to have understood.

Ummm... Yeah

This is from Steve (okay, so Steve got it from somewhere else, but I can't be arsed* to look it up at the moment, maybe in the morning...):

1. Grab the nearest book.

2. Open the book to page 123.

3. Find the fifth sentence.

4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.

5. Don’t search around and look for the “coolest” book you can find. Do what’s actually next to you.

So I'm probably going to sound even more pervy than usual now. Why did I have to leave the Kama Sutra on my desk today as I was cleaning up?

*Sigh*

"Bhikshu Padmashri too, acknowledges that, according to place and character, women like kisses on certain parts."

*Dammit, I must be tired for that to have slipped into my verbage...

New! Gauntlet Poll

I'm being indecisive today, so I'm leaving it up to you all to decide which sentences I'll use for EsotericWombat's challenge.

The choices are as follows:

EsotericWombat:
Sentance the First: I was suffering from a paradox overload.
Sentance the Final: It was no use. at last, I finally gave in.

Coyote Mike#1:
I remember the last time I woke up in a Mexican Border Jail.
They had to cut it out of me with rusty scissors, which didnt' hurt as much as you would think.

Steve:
Start: The vacuum cleaner bag was full beyond capacity.
End: She poured her drink on my head saying, "Next time you watch a David Lynch movie don't get any ideas."

Coyote Mike#2
The coffee shop opened late on Monday morning.
I was late returning the videos.

The20KHzLegend:
Start:The wind ripped the door away from me, and procedded to exstinguish every lamp inside.
Finish:And that's how I met my future husband.

Radio Steve

Steve is going to be on the radio so everyone should listen. If you're in my timezone (ie Mountain Time) it will be at 10am on Saturday. Go to RRR and click on Stream.

Update!

I was just listening to check that my computer will actually cooperate, and the boys were discussing wanking over a girl in church. Beautiful! I love it.

Thank You Blizzard

Ordinarily on a Monday morning at 10, I would be sitting in Evil Speech Class. Today was supposed to be particularly evil with a midterm on the schedule.

But, happily the blizzard cancelled classes. And the boys who clear the driveways have gotten out and done their thing so I can leave!!! Woohooo! This is very good as I'm down to one bagel and my chocolate rationing wasn't successful.

Message Board!

If you'll notice in the sidebar, just under the "Gargoyles," I've added a message board. I think it's cute. So leave me a message or somesuch. :0)

I'm Dumb

Last night Chipper and I were chattering on the phone about all sorts of silly things from Sen. Rick Santorum to the Peace Corps. Chipper's seriously contemplating going to graduate school starting this summer. Which made me start thinking about it. So, this morning, instead of cleaning (or shoveling), I started getting all warm and gooey about graduate schools. Then I remembered that I hate being in school. The idea is nice, but much like Steve was saying the other day, the actuality of it leaves much to be desired.

Anyway...

Again, I am disturbed by the spellchecker. It doesn't know "shoveling"...

Welcome To Colorado

Woke up this morning to a blizzard. This is bad on so many levels.

First, I haven't been to the grocery store for about 3 months (I live on take-out), so my nutritional intake (until they open the roads again) will consist of two tomato-basil bagels and half of a Butterfinger. If I get really really desperate there are some tins of sardines that my parents stockpiled right after 9/11. I think I would rather die first though.

Second, I was supposed to do some research at the library for a paper that is due tomorrow. One can only hope that classes will be cancelled. That would make me entirely happy. Although that is generally true regardless of whether papers are due or not.

Third, I'll now have to put on 17 layers to go get the mail (I forgot yesterday) to check if they've sent my Russian trip application. It's not really a problem, but I'm lazy so I feel like whining about it.

There are other reasons why this is bad, but I've distracted myself by thinking about the Butterfinger and I can't remember.

At least the electricity is still on. I heard that about 11,000 people were without lights this morning...

Anyway, it's supposed to be balmy and warm by Tuesday.

If you don't like the weather in Colorado, wait an hour.

When I live other places I get really paranoid by how consistent the weather is. I'm always looking over my shoulder for the odd out-of-season snowstorm or random tornado whenever things have been the same for too long (like more than 12 hours). I think it means I have WIPTSD (Weather Induced Post Traumatic Stress Disorder), but that is an issue for people smarter than I to figure out.

Behold, The Gauntlet

EsotericWombat has issued a challenge for everyone. I've chosen to accept it, and the rest of you are encouraged to do the same.

So, what is this challenge you might ask? Well, it is this: you will request a beginning sentence and a concluding sentence from your loyal readers (and anyone else who happens by). You will then pick the best pair and write the 100 word story that connects the two sentences. Mwahahahahaha*

Oh, and should you choose to become involved you are asked to declare yourself in EW's comments. And submit sentences in my comments. Because otherwise I'll have nothing to write about. And that wouldn't be a challenge, that would be just be business as usual.

*For some reason I think that I will end up with erotica no matter what the sentences are...

Happiness Is...

I'm on Google. Number 5 if you search under "SuperKate". Not great, I suppose, but better than before when I was completely unsearchable. Woohooo!

To celebrate I'm dining on leftover Chinese food and thinking about cleaning my house.

Ohhhhhhhhhhh...

That extended "Oh" should be read with a sad, disappointed lilt.

My papadum is floppy. I didn't realize my curry was so moist when I put it all in the to-go box.

*Sigh*

Oh well, at least the curry was still good.

Mmmmm, curry...

Another Reason I Don't Like Ann Coulter

For reasons largely relating to boredom, I was meandering around the internet and came across Ann Coulter's homepage. After I convinced myself that throwing things at the computer wouldn't make her stop being herself, I looked at her "My Life Photo Tour" page. I guess I had never properly looked at the wench's face before.

To my shock and horror I realized she looks remarkably similar to a horrible, evil creature named Alison who was in the group I went to India, Nepal, and Thailand with. My first real impression of her was made in the van as we drove to our hotel. She started pointing wildly out the window and exclaimed in squeaky ecstasy, "Oh my God! That's the bar I read about in Cosmo!!!"

Anyway, the biggest physical difference between Alison and Ann is the hair color (I have no idea about any other differences as I did my best to avoid any sort of communication with CosmoGirl). Alison was dirty blonde at best, and even that description is a stretch. She was insanely jealous of the attention that the rest of us blondes were getting*. At the Taj Mahal she even went so far as to go up to a group of men and ask if they wanted to take their pictures with her.

She was better than my roommate though. Everyone wanted to kill her by the end of the trip. I nearly ran over her head with a luggage cart at the Bangkok airport. The rest of the group was mad at me for not doing so.

*If you're white (most especially white, blonde, and female), in certain areas of the world, you'll more or less be constantly surrounded by people wanting to take their picture with you. Apparently it's a status symbol to have pictures with white people.

Why Am I Listening To Opera?

It's a silly and dangerous thing to half-listen to Italian opera when you are distracted by other things and some part of your brain still speaks Italian. I could swear the dude just sang, "I discovered the fruit!" and then the chorus chimed in with a frantic, "Where? Where? Where? Where?" Now it's being all musical again. I'm sure someone will scream soon. Ah, "The suspect is Tuscan." That explains everything*.

I don't even like opera. They promised Vivaldi. I demand a refund. Damn those classical radio station people. Whoever they are.

*Okay, fine the suspect's name is Tosca. It's just more fun to think that Tuscans as a whole are being mocked. Any group of people who regularly pronounce CocaCola as "Cohahola" or cioccolata calda (hot chocolate) as "cioholatahalda" deserve to be mocked.

Strange But True

I got a new hit counter the other day. Er, well, I got two of them to be exact. One that I let all of you see, and one that is invisible. The visible one makes me happy because it counts all page loads as hits and doesn't care if I'm the one doing the hitting, which boosts the numbers. The other one, however doesn't count when I visit, and doesn't count repeat visits in the total number of hits for the day. It also has all kinds of statistics attached to it so I can see who has been visiting, where they're from, their cat's name, etc.

While this does make me a bit paranoid on one level, it also appeals to my geeky side. I like numbers. They're simple and while they* don't actually mean a whole lot, it's fun to pretend they do.

So, just to let you know, today, April 8th, 2005:

8% of people who visited my blog stayed for more than an hour
58% stayed for less than 5 seconds (wankers)
90% were from America
3% were from Portugal
and
SuperMikeyPants visited 17 times

I promise to come up with something more interesting to write about in the near future.

*"They" being my blog's statistics, not numbers in general.

PS I am very confused as to why Blogger's spell checker doesn't know the word "blog". It also doesn't know "wanker"...

Things To Do To Foreign Students Part II

BeakerGirl and I are naughty people. We spent an entirely lovely evening with Keiko, my Japanese mentoree, eating Indian food* and giggling hysterically.

The giggles erupted because we were teaching Keiko all kinds of words and phrases we shouldn't have been teaching her. I suppose I had already set a precedent for such behavior as the last time Keiko and I went out to dinner we had a lively discussion about pubic floss. And the time before that we had discussed "big black cock".

Tonight, however we reached new vocabularic highs. "Throbbing hot pulse of purple man chicken" was introduced, and subsequently shortened to random outbursts of "Man chicken!" The spit or swallow conundrum was discussed. "Mmmm, hot chunk of meat" was given a rather non-gustatory implication. "TurkeyMonkey" was also repeated frequently, but mostly because Beaky** and I couldn't stop giggling about Thursday's class when we had to fold towel creatures.

The air was thick with innuendo, and I couldn't keep my mind out of the gutter. Which has led me to the conclusion that I need to get laid if for no other reason than to keep from further corrupting my mentoree***.

*I still have no idea how BeakerGirl managed to eat her cream cheese balls in special sauce without howling with laughter. I could not have done.

**It's not quite as catchy as "Keik-N-Bake" but I suppose it works as a nickname...

***There are many other reasons, but that one seems somehow less self-centered than all of the rest.

The Execution Has Been Stayed

I'm so very entirely happy! The woman who cleans isn't coming in tomorrow morning as she had previously threatened, which means I will actually be able to sleep tonight instead of frantically cleaning up my mess so she doesn't know what a complete slob I am. Woohooo!

She is instead coming next week which means I have the whole weekend to get everything nice and picked-up. Of course I'll do no such thing. But at least I have the option. And that, my darlings, is very nice indeed.

Poll!

If you'll look carefully in the side bar you'll notice a happy new addition. Yep, it's a poll!

My Sanity

I'm perfectly sane, nothing is wrong with me that isn't usually wrong with me.

This list includes, but is not limited to:
-General malaise that can be attributed to having been raised by my parents
-A nervous tick caused by consumption of overcooked steamed dumplings
-Neurotic tendencies caused by sitting in classes, hour after hour, surrounded by morons
-Extreme frustration produced by living in the States against my will
-Despondency caused by being forced to live here for the next 2 years

Now I suppose I should respond specifically to Mikey's concerns:

I truely believe that superkate has gone round the bend and will probably be found swinging by one arm from a hotel shower curtain rod, naked, with the courtesy ice bucket on her head, shouting obscenities at passing cockroaches. But I could be wrong.

First of all, I might be blonde, but even I know that shower curtain rods fall down and are thus not good for swinging.

Second, well, okay fine, I probably would be naked.

Third, I don't like hats.

Fourth, you expect I would stay somewhere with parading cockroaches? I think not!

Finally, and most importantly, I'm in the hotel industry, hence I have a reputation to protect. I reserve that kind of swinging and shouting for people's private homes.

PS I lied on "My Favorite Joke". It's not actually my favorite joke. It's my second favorite joke. My real favorite joke involves a French accent which is entirely too difficult to type.

My Favorite Joke

What's the difference between erotic and kinky?
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Erotic is using a feather, kinky is using the whole chicken.

Heh heh heh heh...

Yes, I'm a dork (and the first time I typed that it said "fork").

Kinky is one of my favorite words. I've made it my mission to spread the good word all over the world. My friend, Belgian Tim, repeatedly attempted to turn it into a verb. He would see a nice looking young Sicilian girl and exclaim loudly, "I want to kinky her!" And then we would throw things at him.

But Basam is my most successful kinky story yet. We were teaching all of the Yemeni boys who lived at the school "kinky" because we were bored and it was something to do. One afternoon, a couple days later, we were all sitting in the mafraj chewing and watching movies. Darling Stefano* found a piece of PVC pipe on the floor leftover from some forgotten construction project. He proceeded to smack the sole of Basam's feet with it. So Basam cried out the only two English words he knew, "No kinky, no kinky!" It was marvelous. I got a picture of it, too. His eyes are wide like a mad man's, and Stefano is smirking his little Stefano smirk. *Sigh*

Yeah...

*Catharine forced Stefano and I to be in the library picture. It was very cruel, but I was happy to get out of it without my face showing...

Missionary Style

EsotericWombat has gotten me thinking about SuperChristians and other varieties of fundamentalists. I don't understand them. It takes so much energy to believe something that fervently and blindly. I think I'm much too lazy to be bothered with it.

I suppose I like most religions on paper. It's the way people practice them that bothers me. I also kind of have a thing about people telling me what to think or do. Mostly my reaction is, "Fuck off or I'll smack you." I'm fond of saying "Believe what you want to believe, do what you want to do, so long as it doesn't impinge on anyone else's right to do the same."

I also wish people would actually read the scriptures they're so happy to force on everyone else. Jesus was a really cool guy, but I think he would run away screaming if he were to see what has been justified in his name. Mohammed wasn't a bad guy at all (although he did have a 9 year-old wife, which I find a little disturbing) and in fact recognized most of the major religions that came before him, whether it was Hinduism, Buddhism, Christianity, and even (gasp, shock, horror) Judaism. Neither Mohammed nor Jesus were violent people, I don't understand where all of the obnoxiousness comes from.

Mormons amuse me to no end. Except when they're ringing my doorbell, of course. I remember observing a group of them in Italy. In Italy for fuck's sake. There was a group of them on their "mission" or whatever they call it, riding up and down the coast trying to convert the Italians. I know some who "converted" just for the free English lessons.

In Malaysia, I went to a couple of Evangelical services with the friend that I was staying with (it was Christmas, and she was part of the pageant). I could've sworn that at any second they were going to bring out snakes. Everyone was doing that swaying thing with a hand in the air (it took me a couple seconds to understand they weren't all saluting Hitler). I wanted to run away screaming when we were all admonished to pray for a small tribe of people in rural Thailand who had recently been reached by Je-ye-sus. But I didn't think shouting, "Leave 'em alone!" would have made me a very popular person and I had no desire to be pummeled by 3,000 angry Christians.

I could go on and on, I suppose...

But I'll get off my soapbox now.

Have a lovely day.

When Life Gives You Yemen...

Make Yemenaid...

I'm feeling oddly nostalgic for Yemen today. Dunno why, really. Nothing about today is particularly Yemeni. Anyway, I've made a far-from-comprehensive-list of things I learned over there.

1. Salta Fahsah is divine, but it doesn't ship well so I have to go back if I'm ever going to have it again.
2. Pole-dancing is the most fun a person can have.
3. I'm not a cheap drunk.
4. Lebanese men are furry and have strange ideas about post-coital conversation topics.
5. If you leave your clothes out to dry and it rains, they'll be dirtier than they ever were before you washed them.
6. Kamarans are the best cigarettes in the world.
7. On a good day, the big supermarket on Hadda Street has both smoked salmon and REAL Cheetos (not the sad, sad imitation otherwise known as bifk).
8. Yemen can't meet the sanitation standards for either McDonald's or Burger King, however they do have a Pizza Hut and KFC.
9. Elevators are beautiful, beautiful things.
10. The Sana'a skyline is oddly suggestive at night when the mosques are covered in lights.
11. It is very nasty when a taxi driver licks your hand.
12. Many people consider "I fuck you" to be an acceptable pick-up line.
13. I hate teaching English.
14. Snow Cream is good, but sometimes nothing beats a "Big Dig" at Baskin Robbins.
15. Marines are very silly people.
16. Drunken Norwegians like to moo and sing their national anthem (although not at the same time)
17. Emirates is the most fantastic airline. Ever.
18. The Russian Embassy throws good parties.
19. Females smoking in public can stop traffic (which is a good source of amusement)
20. It's good to be a blonde.

News Flash

It is not polite to piss on strangers.

More on this breaking story as details become available!

UPDATE!
Pissing on strangers will not only earn you the ire of the stranger(s) you have pissed on, it will also get you a rather expensive trip to detox. And if you've been stupid enough to give said stranger(s) your address, there is a possibility of plots against your toothbrush. And Nutella-based revenge graffiti. Oooh, and if you're really lucky, nasty things stuck to your front door knob.

Eh?

I was talking to my mother on the phone the other day and because I'm amused by strange things, I felt it would be entertaining to tell her that I smelled like Poup'ee . She, of course, was horrified and told me to go take a shower. So I explained that it was simply my most recent perfume acquisition and actually smells quite lovely.

I waited a few minutes, then exclaimed excitedly that I smelled like Poup'ee again (like I said, I'm amused by strange things). She was yet again horrified and told me to go take a shower. So I explained it again.

Rinse and repeat.

Because I'm an evil horrible child, I did it about 4 times. This is why I should never be left unattended with people who are in the beginning stages of Alzheimer's.

Anyway, the conversation progressed and I mentioned my new moisturizer. We continued talking, and then she came out with one of the most bizarre statements I've ever heard; "Be sure not to put the moisturizer on your teeth."

What do you say to that? After stammering a bit at the absurd turn the conversation had taken, I replied that really I had no intention of moisturizing my teeth. At which point she forgot that she had made the first statement and told me that I was very strange indeed for even thinking of putting moisturizer on my teeth.

At that point, I would have run away screaming, but it was raining outside and I wasn't wearing any pants. So I did the next best thing; bid her goodnight, then collapsed in a puddle of uncontrollable giggles.

Getting To Know You...

I'm bored and this list of questions was just emailed to me...


What makes you laugh? Dry humor, Japanese people eating sauerkraut for the first time, and menus translated into English, among other things.

Who would you want to be tied to for 24 hours? I suppose that depends on how one would be tied... But Jude Law would be nice.

How many pairs of shoes do you own? Gah! I have no idea... Entirely too many. And none of them are very sensible.

Seriously... Where does the other sock end up? Somewhere in the mysterious vacuum of space. Or under my bed.

Who do you blame for your mood today? My neighbor whose house smells like used maxipads.

If the Internet were sex... I'd definitely be knocked up by now.

Have you ever seen a dead body? Yep... My forensic pathology phase led to some interesting experiences. Incidentally, I've also held a human spleen...

What is something scientists need to invent? Self-cleaning houses.

What should we do with stupid people? Full-body waxing, then shoot them out of cannons at spikey things.

Have you ever broken a bone? Nope.

Do you watch local news? Nope.

What is the best advice you've ever gotten? A truly wise man never plays leap-frog with a unicorn.

How big is your bed? Queen-size and absolutely the most luxurious bed on the planet (it's all velvet and satin).

How long do you think you will live? Entirely too long, and not long enough.

Erotic Poetry For MikeyPants

SuperMikeyPants has claimed that I send him erotic poetry. So I've got some nice limericks for him (from here):

While Titian was mixing Rose Madder
His model reclined on a ladder
Her sultry position
Suggested coition
So he ran up the ladder and had her

There once was a guy named McSweeney
Who spilled some gin on his weenie
So just to be couth
He added vermouth
And then gave his girl a martini

And my personal favorite, told to me by an Australian I knew in Sicily who offered to marry me so I could have European citizenship (he had been married to a French woman):

There once was a girl from Blackheath
She circumsized men with her teeth
It wasn't for money
Or anything funny
It was for the cheese underneath

Yes, I'm An Optimist

I have to write a paper about the communication styles of men and women. Technically, I should have already written it as it was due on Thursday (feel free to slap me viciously SuperMikeyPants) but I'm lazy and the teacher allows late work. Anyway, I'm glad I waited. Aimlessly surfing around this morning I found this page. I think I'll change my thesis to something along the lines of, "Men and women shouldn't even try to communicate, to save time and effort we should just go straight to throwing things and pouting as that is where it leads anyway."

Durrrrr!

I don't understand why people think they're so cute when they come up with their clever little April Fool's jokes. I woke up this morning to my mother nearly hysterical on the phone saying my father was ill and they were coming back to Denver a month early. Then she quieted, muttered a feeble, "heh heh heh," and said exuberantly, "APRIL FOOLS!"

It's not nice to do these kind of things. I mean a month early? I nearly had a heart attak. I would have had to drop out of school and move to Kyrgyzstan. I can't deal with them for a whole extra month. The deal was they would be in Arizona for at least 6 months of the year, and I would housesit in Denver while they were gone and limit my global meandering to areas of the world not actively overthrowing their governments. It's beautiful in it's simplicity. It shouldn't be fucked with...

*Sigh*