So much has happened since I last posted. Honestly, too much has been going on for me to find time to post anything worthwhile. So let me try to cram the last 3 weeks down on this blog...

I heard from Kakenya and she is coming to LA! I can't wait. I haven't seen that girl in two years and I have really missed her smile and unique interpretation of American culture. She is also the best judge of character I have ever known, so I want to get her impressions of some people I have met recently. She's doing some work here for the UN so I'm going to go down one or two evenings during the week and go to dinner with her and take lots of pictures.

Valerie is awesome. I love to talk to her on the phone and laugh about FOB (fresh off the boat) Egyptians that she knows. She lives in Glendale and this weekend we're going clubbing again. This time we're going to Hollywood, which should be interesting in the extreme.

My book is revived. I cannot fucking believe this, but our maid, Angie, used to work for the royal family in Oman. She stayed there for a year taking care of a small baby. She told me that the people were mean, though, and she was glad to leave. I heard a lot of harsh stories when I lived in the UAE. I really hope the rape and robbery that I heard commonly happened to household help didn't happen to her. Regardless, she is helping me remember my Arabic (hers is quite good) and give me little vignettes that she recalls from the royal house she worked in near Muscat. Hiring Angie is the best thing we ever did.

Justin and I are hot and heavy. He wrote to me a long time after the second time I saw him (I'm not sure how many days it was) and he asked me why I didn't want him to kiss me or touch me when I was over in Ventura. I was like, "Are you insane? I was completely into it." So he says, "But I invited you up to the apartment and you didn't even sit next to me. It was like you didn't want to be anywhere near me." Oh my God. I don't know how I've met the only mega-hot guy in the world who thinks I'm not thinking about ripping his clothes off. So I got pretty freaking graphic about exactly what I want to do to him and he perked right up. Anyway, we're going to spend part of this weekend together and I'm looking forward to it because the man is gorgeous and smart and actually listens to me when I speak. But something tells me we won't be doing much speaking. I don't care! And I don't care if this abruptly ends, either. I never did mind being on my own and if I want sex, I know I can get it. That's cold and harsh, but it's true. Besides, I think Justin is more afraid of me than I am of him.

OK, writing about him has made me start thinking about him. Justin is a really, really good kisser. And his arms are like tree trunks and his chest is broad and hard and he has muscles everywhere. His eyes are nice, he is constantly putting on chapstick, and he is an extreme pessimist. And he works out 5 days a week, which explains the muscles.

Skiing is awesome. I went on the second ski trip and I loved it even more than the first time. We took a ton of students with us but we didn't lose any this time. I asked the ski club coordinator, let's call him Coach, how much the ski trip was. He told me to just pay $20. Now I know for a fact that the kids pay more than $50, so I snatched it right up. Then, when we got to the resort a couple days later, he pulled $20 out and gives it back to me. He said, "You're working and helping out, so don't worry about paying for the trip." So I have gotten two ski lessons, rentals for boots, skis, and poles, transportation to and from Mt. High twice, all for the bargain price of $0. Sweet! I tried to buy him lunch from the tres chic (irony) food vendors, but he refused. Then he told me about a bar higher up on the hill where I could get a drink. So I took my $20 and had tequila sunrises and a MAJORLY redneck guy hit on me at the bar. It was all I could do to keep from laughing. Southern accent, talking about how much smaller his town was that Wrightwood. His hair was fantastic. It looked perfectly coiffed in a halo around his head. I slugged my drink and got out of there. When I hit the slopes slightly intoxicated, I was much better than before I warmed up properly.

After the skiing trips, I ran into my principal and we got to chatting. The woman is about 50 years old and she asks me, "So are you going to hook up with Coach?" I looked at her, confused, and said, "Umm, for skiing." I wasn't sure I'd heard the question correctly. He always brings his kids on the trip, so I assumed he was married. Then she LAUNCHED into his personal details. "Coach likes younger women. He used to date a woman who worked here a couple of years ago and she was 20 years younger than him. He loves to dance. He used to be a professional football player." Finally, I piped up, "But I thought he was married. He has three teenage children living in his house that always come on the ski trips." Turns out these are his children from a woman that he used to live with in Alaska. They wanted to move in with dad and the mom sent them on down to CA. He actually volunteered to have the kids come live with him. NOT a typical man. Anyway, he's pretty old (over 40 by quite a bit) and he has those kids. Otherwise, he's a pretty damn good-looking guy. Because I thought he was married and just being nice and appreciative that I came along on the trips, I didn't realize that my glowing smiles and offers to buy him lunch might have been taken in the "let's hook up" interpretation. I think he thinks I like him. He always makes it a point to greet me in the lounge and tell me to have a great day and he called me to find out if I wanted to go on the last ski trip (I needed to go to a funeral instead). So far, no one has really embarrassed themselves, but I just found out that my principal likes him and has been wanting him to ask her out for a while. Shit. I DO NOT want to be the preferred provider in this scenario. I'm just going to be polite and not fuel any rumors, but Christine, the teacher I work with who got the boob job, says that there already are rumors. Like what? I'm getting it on with Coach on the bleachers at lunch? To tell the truth, I don't know what I would do if he asked me out. He's such a good guy and he is attractive. I will think about it.

I also went to visit Liz, the author of Smart Man Hunting. I invited her out to lunch because (I never said these words to her) I want her to be my mentor. I think she is bright, optimistic, successful in lots of arenas, and funny. We met at her place in Santa Monica and I LOVED it. She had lots of cream furniture and sparkly pillows and it was simply my taste. God, I loved her apartment. I am going to live in one just like it and drive a Jaguar one day. I just know it. And I'm going to ski at Garmisch-Partenkirchen (where Queen Noor used to go) for Christmas and New Year's. Anyway, when we were at lunch Liz pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen. Then she said, "Apparently 30% of people on the internet are actually married and looking for people to cheat on their spouses with. My book is going to be published in its second edition next year and I want to add a section about how to spot married men. Want to have your story in the book?" I nearly laughed myself off the chair. Yes! Yes! Yes! No one's story could be worse than mine (unless they'd gotten pregnant or been robbed of their money) so I spilled the details. I gave her some tips to write down about how to be subtle and investigate a man's marital status and also how to be highly invasive to find out the truth. She loved it. It's pretty much a sure thing that the insane, married Italian man and Me story will be prominently featured in the new section.

I interviewed with ReMax and the woman that I spoke with basically left it up to me. She encouraged me to interview at Coldwell Banker because they might be a little more accommodating with my school schedule. ReMax has some scheduled meetings that all agents must attend during the day, and I just can't do that. I think I would prefer Coldwell Banker anyway because that is who my lawyer friend has always used to process her probates. Regardless of what happens at CB, I could sign up with ReMax tomorrow. And do you know what that woman told me? The two highest producers in the Lancaster office each earned over $250,000 in commission last month. I was like, "Are they men? Could I have their phone numbers?" Ha ha ha.

The hardest part of this month was my trip to Virginia. I got the call from Heather's friend Jace around midnight. The name Heather flashed up on my phone and I answered it all excitedly, "Hi Heather!" It was Jace, calm and somber. "Heather's mom just passed away. We're all at the hospital. I know you said that if she passed away you would come out here, and I think you should do that. Heather has had to make a lot of really hard decisions and I think it's wearing her down." Of course. She's my best friend and I would do anything for her, forever and always.

I needed a little time to arrange my substitute teacher and whip out the plastic. I got to her house at about 4 in the morning on Thursday. It wasn't a pleasure voyage, but I felt so relieved and content to be in Virginia. It really was like I was home. The rolling hills, trees, retarded deer that stand motionless in front of my car as I hurtle toward them at 70 miles an hour in the pitch black night. I told Heather that after I saw the 4th animal carcass strewn across my lane, I knew I was in the South again. We saw a little bit of snow, but it didn't stick. Heather's dad was so, so nice to me. None of the relatives were encouraged to stay over, but he let me stay at the family home and kept telling me that I was the best friend Heather had ever brought around to the house. He's a good guy, he really is. Married to his wife just shy of 32 years. Firefighter, deputy, American-made car purchaser. I admire Heather's dad, even if he does complain and drive his kids CraZy. I think I drove Heather a little insane, but I tried to help her out and get her mind off of sad things for a little while. No one could say we didn't eat well! We went out on Saturday for her birthday and stuffed ourselves with nachos and alcohol. We went out Thursday night, too, with her law school friends who I really, really liked. OK, Heather, you have my blessing. Those friends are good enough for you.

Heather started getting funny toward the end of my trip. Neither one of us had gotten anything off of our amazon.com wishlists recently and both of us usually got stuff from our mothers. So Heather goes, "My mom's dead, but yours just hates you." Harsh! And funny.

Ah, I also talked to Chris Angevine a couple of times this month. He hates law school and he might be getting a real girlfriend soon... I am in shock! He is the number one one-night-stand man on the East Coast, I swear to God. He described her to me and I approve. It sounds like more than just a 'looks' thing. He says she just starts hating stuff and gets all angry and mad about it. Seething. He likes that. I told Justin that he really, really reminds me of my friend Chris Angevine. Only Justin is probably 30-40 pounds heavier. They do look a lot alike. It's uncanny, really.