Another day, Another Bloody Mary

Yesterday I was really depressed. But it turned out that a lot of that was exhaustion. I woke up because a school system in Virginia called me. It was 9:30 their time, 6:30 my time. That's retribution for calling Heather in Virginia at 11:30 her time and waking up her dad. Tsk tsk tsk. It's not kind to ignore the time difference.

So that school system sounds like they want me, but they haven't called me with the phone interview yet. I'll let you know how it goes. Then G-ma's home help person came, and she finished all her work half an hour early, but because I'm cruel (and I don't want her to get in the habit of leaving early) I had her sit with G-ma and read. Tomorrow I don't know what I'll have her do because there isn't very much that is necessary. Tomorrow is also G-ma's hair dressing thing and trip to the podiatrist. So we have all kinds of excitement lined up for us. I'm going to ask the nurse at the podiatrist to give G-ma a Valium so she'll relax. Maybe she'll give me one, too.

So I put in my app with LA Unified School District. I hope to God they give me a job. Somewhere near Santa Clarita. After investigating lots of other properties, I really appreciate the rent ($500 including everything -- pool, parking, cable, high speed internet, gas, water, electric) The room is small but I have next to nothing here, it's all in Germany, and the house is so spacious and nice. If I take it, I will have 3 roommates and I'll share a bathroom with two of them. That's the drawback. One of them attends school full-time and works full-time. And yet she seemed pleasant. I would be hell on wheels.

I like two men whom I have never met. I met them on plentyoffish.com and they have written me e-mails with very few spelling mistakes. I like that.

One is named Chandler. I haven't asked him yet how many people think it's cute to call him Chandlah-Bing. I'll save that for later, I'm sure it will mortify him and make me seem shallow, so sounds like first date material to me.

The other guy is named Rusty. Ick. I will have to give him a nickname. Or use his real name. He looks kind of Indian/American Indian/Latino/Arab/God knows what, so I feel sure he has a different name that is difficult to pronounce. I will find a way to pronounce it just so I can escape calling him Rusty.

Anyway, one of them is visiting a sister in Chicago now and the other one lives around here and goes to the beach all the time. I want him to take me jet-skiing. The only thing is, I am unbelieveably pale and the Rite Aid fake tan I bought is barely taking the alabaster glow off, no matter how much I layer it. Thank God it was a two-for-one special, because I'm going through it like a whore through latex.

I'm sitting here in my step-G-dad's study, having a Bloody Mary and imagining a life with a regular paycheck.

I earned $11 last night! I tutored two men in math so that they could prepare for their water exams. They test the water and stuff around here and they have to do some kind of exam to be recognized by the state as legal. We had fun. We did lots with fractions and converting parts per million to parts per billion. They use lots of abbreviations that I am not familiar with, like MGD. That's Millions of Gallons per Day.

I'm still not enrolled in the real estate course. I have to get on the ball!!!!

Fun in the Sun

I had so much guilty fun yesterday! I met an old professor/friend from Randolph-Macon. Her name is Christine and she was my Islamic Art Professor. She also wrote a great recommendation for me for the Fulbright grant. I love her! She brought her cute boyfriend, Scott, and we met up at the Getty Center. We looked at photographs and modern architecture and then we went to Santa Monica, which seems to be the coolest place on earth. There, we had DELICIOUS Thai food and chatted about anything and everything. After a wedding today, they’re going to head to Las Vegas and then on home to Pennsylvania, where they both teach. It was so cool to see an old friend. And she looked good. Her skin was so clear and her haircut was cute. I adore Christine!

After we finished dinner, we walked outside and were SHOCKED and AMAZED to discover that the local street music was in Arabic, sung by an Arab dude. Habibi (my darling) he sand, Wallah!! (by God) We were mesmerized for a few minutes. Both of us had been awarded Fulbrights to Muslim countries, and we felt slightly homesick listening to the funky Arab beat. We loved it. I’ll never forget it.

When I got home at 1 in the morning, Grandma was pissed. What a result! She never gets angry! She never cares about anything! So it was a good step forward that she was mad at me for staying out so late. I knew it was going to happen, though. I wasn’t meeting them until 6 and the drive is 1.5 hours into L.A. I knew I was going to be getting back at a CrAzY G-ma hour. Then I got on the computer and she got even MORE miffed. Shit.

So today I was extra nice to Granny. I cooked her Salmon for dinner.

Today my friend Bekah called me and invited me to her house. I hadn’t seen her since my sophomore year at Randolph-Macon, so I am in R-MWC reunion mode these days. Her house is lovely and she has a pool. I met her fiance, JJ. They are both super Christian, so I kind of wanted to gag. But they were super nice and we laid out by the pool and I got a little bit sun burned. We talked about what kind of work is in the area. She lives SO close to my G-ma’s house. I’m happy about that. But her wedding is in 7 weeks, so I don’t expect to see a lot of her. Plus she is only home on the weekends. (She lives in Bakersfield, which is pretty far north.)

So I have had a couple of good days, which I have to say I deserve. I’ve been getting too depressed lately.

I’m going to take the Real Estate course with Century 21. Hope it goes well! I miss you guys.

Ho Hum

OK, still looking for a job. Still annoyed by my bad skin. Why is it that when you get a pimple, it lasts for three years, you pop it, it looks red (but mercifully flat), then two days of relief go by and you think "it's healing and will fade soon!" right then, you look again, and then you have a brand new fucking zit right on top of the old one. it's awful! i hate it. and i'm being plagued by it. i know that the zit is infesting the skin around it with bacteria, but I'm washing!!! i really am. it shouldn't be happening, but it is.

today we got a new girl in to help grandma do her stuff. together, valencia and i discovered 4 huge new loads of dirty laundry. ugh. so we washed that. and we secretly threw old ruined, stained things away. and we threw crap away. and we whittle the 52 towels in g-ma's bathroom down to 6. and i found a lot of nice make-up in g-ma's bathroom that i'm going to steal. and if i find anymore g-ma clothes that have not been worn in 3 years, i am going to sell them on ebay.

this is all i know. we are going to the hairdresser's today, so we have a lot of excitement in our lives.

xxx
kat

Real Job Equals Real Estate

OK, the job hunt is not going so well. I sat in the parking lot of Target today, trying to get up the nerve to go in. I couldn't do it. I couldn't wear the red t-shirt and earn minimum wage. So I smoke a cigarette and drove away.

The next stop was the community college. I went inside, ignoring the 'pay and display' sticker thing for my car. I have $1. That's right, $1 until I get a job. I swear I'm going to break down and spend it on a McDonald's sundae soon. So I'm not wasting it on their stupid parking fee. I went inside the CC, and it was a madhouse. White trash, Mexicans, and old people everywhere. They were all carrying yucky backpacks and looking pissed off. I couldn't do it. I couldn't wait in line to find out that no, I won't be allowed in the real estate course even if I suck Dr. Schaff's dick and no, I'm not considered in-state and will have to pay $500 for the course. So I turned around and navigated my way past all the losers in old flip flops and back to my car (which didn't get a ticket). But I don't think it matters, because I just called Century 21 and for $200 I can take a real estate course in 5 Saturdays, then take the state test.

So I'm teasing Heather. I kind of want to move out there and bleed rent out of her (and live with her and take turns running on the treadmill we'll buy so we get super skinny). If I teach out there I can buy a house for half what the market value is. I just have to teach there 3 years.

I've been actually plonking my butt down and writing some of the book I always said I would write. Not to get ahead of the game and jinx it, but how awesome would it be to write a book that people actually spent money on? And get a royalty check for years and years if people liked it! I want my book to be really good. So far I'm loosely basing it on this guy I know from the Middle East (Chris) only in my book the guy likes to hang out with the girl a lot more than Chris bothered to hang out with me. I've just killed off his parents. I will tell you the rest later. No, actually, you gotta buy it. But I'll give you a steep discount.

I told Heather that I want to paint a room in my house pale pink.

I didn't tell her about the bondage lair in the basement, where we will chain men that we want to have sex with from time to time.

California kind of sucks, kind of rocks.

Miss you guys!

Foiled Again

So I thought it would be a good idea to take a real estate course here and then get a license for CA. I finally got on the Community College website here, and although the class hasn't started yet, it is filled to capacity. Grrrrrr... And I heard it was only $36, but I don't know that.

I'm sitting here trying not to smoke. It's hard.

Not feeling to good about life right now. If I meet a man, though, you know I'll be on top of the world.

I was thinking about writing to Jerome at the Al Ain Intercon. I was going to send him a naughty, flirty, come visit me in LA note. Think he would get really scared? Or just get a huge ego? I just want him to e-mail me and have cyber sex.

My Dubai girlfriends are going to Greece soon.

Am soooooooo jealous. I wish I were rich. It really seems like rich people don't have problems. It's amazing.

Ah, update on Grandma. I said, "Hi Grandma" to her the other day. So she said, "Hi Grandma" right back. OK. I told her that we should change her dress since it was the same one she has worn for the last 4 days. OK. So she takes the dress off in front of the huge living room window. Something is very wrong. But they keep telling us she doesn't have Alzheimer's. Her hygiene is gone. Doesn't care about showers or brushing her teeth, but she gets around walking just fine. It's frustrating! Anyway, I rang some people up and we're gonna have a caregiver come in on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Not a nurse, just someone to help Grandma bathe and do her laundry.

That's all for now, kids.

Just Shoot Me

The highlight of today: take Grandma to the hairdresser's

My computer has a virus, which is affecting how often I post. I apologize for not being very entertaining.

Aroun isn't talking to me anymore. Our love is dead. I am sad but I think it's only because I want him to want me, not really that I want him really badly. I want someone awesome to go out with. Interesting, smart, regular paycheck, over 5'10". Is it too much to ask? Oh, and that person living within an hour's commute would be a huge plus.

I am mad depressed. I need a job. I got bills to pay.

I'm think about writing a book about Portuguese pirates that infiltrated Oman. Ooops, now someone is going to steal my idea. Shit.

I want to be creative. I want to make money. I want to have a cigarette in a restaurant at the finish of my meal. Fuck Southern California. I look like shit or I would try to go get a modeling job. I have to get my skin cleared up and lacquer on some self-tan.

I want a Coke. And some cocaine. I'm bored, lonely, depressed, and poor. Waaaah!

Proud Bird

Today I drove my step-grandfather to L.A. It's about 75 minutes from here, so not too bad. We met up with his lawyer friend Cindy. She has a 7-year-old (going on 8, thank you very much) and she's about to go get a Chinese baby. At this point in the story, I know that Heather is cringing and gagging. I know. I know.

Anyway, we had a good time at the Proud Bird. It's a restaurant in L.A. next to the airport. They have old tin cans, oops, I mean planes, all around the joint with marble slabs telling the stories of when and where these planes were flown. My step-G likes it because he can walk around and lecture us on the WW II planes. Actually, it was pretty interesting. What was even more interesting was realizing that I am in THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. It was a buffet, ya'll. I ate pigs in blankets, pasta salad, b-b-q ribs, cheesecake, and anything else that looked like it would pile my lipo right back on.

My grandmother is walking around the house again, checking all of the locks. It is so annoying. This is the third time tonight. About half an hour ago she accidentally set the burglar alarm off. We cancelled it within a minute, but what we didn't know is that the alarm company called her stepson. We found out 3 minutes ago when he came to the front door. He lives ten miles away. Aww, what a sweet guy to drive over and check on us. I feel like a loser now. Grandma just stood there, looking pleased with herself to have caused a commotion.

My stepgrandfather nearly sprinted out of the house today, and he's 84. G-ma has definitely driven him nuts over the past few months. He kept looking at me and saying really cheerfully, "I'm on vacation!" He's been retired since the 70s.

Anyway, I am living it up here. They got brand new cushy leather sofas. I have the American Express card for gas and unlimited internet access. Life is sweet. If only G-ma would stop sneaking up on me. She is super suspicious of me and just stares and stares. Next time I'm gonna say boo.

Write to me!

From L.A.

I wrote a blog earlier and it got deleted! So sad. It wasn't that interesting, though. I'm in Palmdale now and I hate to say that I'm quite depressed. I need my randy girls to cheer me up. My grandmother is in serious decline. She has no idea what time it is. She started cooking lunch at 9 this morning. We caught her too late. I washed 4 huge loads of her laundry yesterday (no one had been bothering to wash them for her, and she has 2 house cleaners that come in 3 times a week). The way she has all her clothes thrown around, though, there is almost no way to tell what is dirty without sniffing it.

So yesterday I spent some time unraveling about 150 pairs of G-ma's hose. She throws them all into the washer together, apparently. Then they get tangled and she tries to rip a pair out of the ball when she needs them. Insanity.

My stepgrandfather is here for the moment, but he flies out tomorrow. He had skin from his ear put on the end of his nose because the doc chopped a bit off do to skin cancer. What is absolutely hilarious about this is that his ears are really hairy, so now he has gray whiskers popping out of the tip of his nose.

This is the news from the asylum. Please e-mail me and relieve my psychotic boredom.

Love,
Kat

Where Have All the Cowboys Gone

Today was a great day! My cargo shipment arrived from Abu Dhabi, so Momster and I went out to Cargo City Sud and jumped through the hoops (sign a paper, pay 15.42 euros, get a government stamp, convince a man to go load my stuff on a forklift, put all four huge boxes in the small truck we rented for the day). Anyway, we left the house at 9:30 in the morning and I had my stuff at home in Germany by 12:30. Getting all my crap up two flights of stairs and then up a spiral staircase was no easy task, but I shooed my mom off to work and I hauled all of that mess upstairs. I am LOVING my room right now. I’m never coming out. I’ve got my big TV, DVD player, cute little silver and seafoam stereo, all my clothes, my cool Arab crap like my little framed woven rug, and all kinds of stuff that’s just been around me this last happy year. It really feels like my space now. The only problem is that I have no real place to put my clothes. It’s driving me crazy. Some are on a free-standing rack and some are in the world’s tiniest wardrobe. Most of them are in a pile on the floor.

I’m listening to a CD I found. I asked Aroun to burn a CD for me. It’s all French songs. These are all about sad, lost loves. Or at least I think they are. I don’t really know what they’re saying. I pretend a lot of the time and just say, “Bien Sur!” or “Tiens!” from time to time.

Anyway, after I was reunited with my shit, my mom threw a dinner party. She does that kind of thing really well. We all sat around drinking a lot of wine and stuffing our faces. After appeasing the old people, I went out with my mom’s gay colleague’s boyfriend. We went to a bar and talked about the best ways to make money. I drank full calorie Coca Cola and smoked. It felt good. Hell, I was in a German bar. He drank a nasty looking beer.

So I was kept busy for most of the day, which made me happy. I also vacuumed the floor. As the floor in our apartment is basically blue felt, everything stays on the surface and SHOWS. If there is a little white cat hair or a fleck of black lint, there might as well be a spotlight on it. So I did the mad housewife thing and vacuumed to within an inch of my life. I was sweating and EXHAUSTED by the end of it. And there is still cat hair, which pisses me off like you would not believe. I think my mother gave up on this carpet a long time ago. So it got pretty bad before I attacked it. I swear I think I was starting to go bonkers over how crap it looked. Maybe I’m beginning to cross over to obsessive compulsive, because I vacuumed more space more thoroughly than is really healthy for a person to do. Isn’t it absolutely riveting to read about my vacuuming? I guess you could be watching people sleep on a reality TV show. But at least here you get to comment.

I go back to England on the 8th. Have I mentioned that I am missing my favorite DVD? It’s called Venus Beauty Institute and it’s French. I’m pretty confident that it is at David’s house. God damn it. It’s 30 bucks to replace it in the states. I guess I’ll e-mail him to get it back. Doesn’t matter. I have to give him a sweatshirt and a pair of shorts, anyway.

xxx

Happy Days in Deutchland

I’m alive. And I didn’t murder my mother! Italy was beautiful. We went to Siena, this really old Gothic city that used to rival Florence in every way, and from there we went to Assisi. The best thing about Siena was going to San Domenico and seeing the 700+ year-old finger of dead Saint Catherine. Her little gray, shriveled finger is held upright in a glass dome. Her head is in that church, too, but we couldn’t find it. My mom thinks it was behind this sort of curtained window thing, but I’m not sure.

In Assisi we stayed at this really cute family-run hotel. The waiter was dead hot and he smiled this really goofy smile at me all the time. We went to the big cathedral that has huge paintings of Saint Francis’s life all over the interior. The landscape in front of the surrounding the cathedral is BREATHTAKING. I have never seen such beautiful country. No wonder Tuscany is so well known for it’s scenery.

I searched so hard for some leather slides and a nice wallet, but there wasn’t anything I liked! I couldn’t believe it. I was in the land of leather and couldn’t find anything that wasn’t stamped Jack Daniel’s No. 7 or covered in ridiculous buckles. I hate buckles and studs on clothes and accessories. When is that crap going to go out of style?

The worst thing about the Italy trip was being in the f***ing car. I think I was in the car every day except one for five hours or more. It sucked. And my mom kept b****ing about having to do all the driving. I was like, “Mom, my driving license is in Arabic and you never added me to your car insurance. If I hit someone I’m going to jail!”

At one of the several guest houses we stayed in, I managed to get bitten by the most vicious little bugs on earth. I have a big nasty bite on each butt cheek, one on my back, five on my right arm, two on my left arm, and others that I haven’t found yet. They’re itchy and pink and gross. My mother wasn’t as tasty as me, so they left her alone.

I tried on my wedding gown last night. It’s too long for me. Otherwise, it’s beautiful. I wish I could have zipped it up the back (it fit well, but I couldn’t reach it to zip it). I thought it would make me sad about my lost wedding day, but it didn’t. I am so relieved that I don’t have to go through with that.

I’m selling my life on ebay. But the internet here at my house has gone psychotic. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. It annoys me. I’m selling my old videos, DVDs, some books, some clothes, and all my Wedgwood china. I need money, I need money. I bet I end up working at McDonald’s in L.A.

I still get nice e-mails from Aroun. He says he is not chasing women, just leading a secluded life in Al Ain. He’s doing his real estate stuff, thinking about switching his job to one based in Abu Dhabi, and teaching. He’s going back to France in late June. Just think, if things had been different he might have attended my wedding.