Where is my money "They" keep promising me?!

When is my 400 million US Dollars going to show up in my account?

I'm tired of working everyday.

I mean "They" said all I had to do was give out my account information and my magically inherited / won / found money was going to be transferred into my account.

Maybe I need to pay a "handling fee"?

I guess I'll just have to work until it shows up.

Just think what you could do with that kind of money.  Even if you were taxed at 50% you would still end up with 200 million.

If you invest it conservatively at 4% that's 8 million a year, less tax say 35%, it leaves you with 5.2 million.

Which is roughly 430 thousand dollars a month.

I can live on that.  Easily.

I'm waiting...

My poor little dog...

My furbaby.

The little love of my life...well not exactly that little, she weighs about 45lbs.

She is a bit of a chunk, I thought I had a photo of her on this computer to show you, but I don't.

Anyway, Friday morning at about 4am I wake up to a terrible noise.

Gabi is throwing up.

So I hop out of bed and flick the light on and what do I see?!

Blood.

Two big puddles of blood.

So of course I freak out throw on some street clothes, wake up my husband, and then run downstairs to get the emergency number for the vet.

I call, then look at my phone in confusion to check the number, then call again.

Guess what?!  The SOB who's suppose to be on call has switched off his / her phone.

I couldn't believe it!

So I proceed to look up every emergency vet in Dubai and then start calling.

Someone must have an emergency back up that's actually answering their phones right?!

Wrong.

I called every number I could find in Dubai, Sharjah and even some in Abu Dhabi.  Not one FRICKEN person had their phone turned on or if they did they didn't answer it.

So we had to wait until the vet opened.

At 9am.

So we're waiting and Gabi throws up again.  More blood.

And she's looking so pathetic.

And I'm getting really pissed off.

So 8:30 rolls around and we take off for the vet.  About 8:45 a woman calls me and says she had a missed call did we have an emergency?

I'm like YES!  Why didn't you answer your phone? 

She tells me that it's her personal number and that she has a personal life.

I'm like really!?  If you put your number out there you should answer it! 

She starts whining that she can't be on call all the time so I hang up on her.

Correct me if I'm wrong but if you don't want to take a call on your "personal" time - don't post your damn number on the internet next to the phrase, "For emergencies call...".

I guess if you're too stupid to realize that, I don't really want you looking at my dog anyway.

Then about 9:00 another guy calls my phone and says - I have a missed call, do you have an emergency? 

Yes, as a matter of fact I do, my dog has been puking blood since 4 am - but since no one answered the emergency lines and it's now 9am we're at the vet.

No thanks to you. 

Then I hung up on that guy too.

So I leave my poor little dog at the vet and the vet calls me later and says - she seems to be fine, it's most likely just an ulcer - you can come pick her up.  If she has any more problems we'll do additional checks.

I'm like HELL NO! - you need to have a look inside her stomach or do an ultra sound or something to make sure she's not riddled with tumors (she just had one removed). SHE WAS PUKING COPIOUS AMOUTS OF BLOOD!

Why am I the only one who sees this as a problem?

Anyway, it did end up being an ulcer - but there are so many other things it could have been and I am so not one of those people who believe it leaving something until it really becomes a problem.

Like on what planet is puking up puddles of blood not a problem?!

Anyway, when there is a problem (as defined by me) I want a definitive answer as to what is wrong, and then I want to know how to treat it and then get on with treatment.

I'm not into the UK way of solving problems.  Wait until the person, animal, plant, dies because it'll be cheaper in the long run, 'cause then all you have to do is bury the problem.

Literally.

So needless to say, the vets here are nothing like the ones back home.

I mean after all one of the vets here wanted to amputate Gabi's leg because she has arthritis.

Sounds like a good treatment to me...

Oh she's limping - let's amputate.

Good call!

If you know me you can hear the sarcasm dripping off my tongue.  If you don't, just imagine the most sarcastic person you've ever heard speaking.

Anyway my little noodle is back home, snoozing with her tongue hanging out.

Life is good again.

Misogyny

Here is a good word to know over here.

Misogyny (pronounced /mɪˈsɒdʒɪni/) is hatred (or contempt) of women or girls. Misogyny comes from Greek misogunia (μισογυνία) from misos (μῖσος, hatred) and gynē (γυνή, woman).

No Bueno

Today is not a good day.

I can't wait to be back in America, if only for a while.

That's all I have to say.

Working in the Middle East

It's a trip here in the Middle East when new job opportunities come your way.

I had a guy send me an inquiry on LinkedIn yesterday wanting to know if I would be interested in a Risk Manager position.

Of course I said yes - I never turn down any opportunity without exploring it first.

I sent him my CV as a .pdf file - locked down (tell me I'm not paranoid).

And he sends me a note back saying thank you and could he have my "complete" CV with my personal details included.

Humphf.

I ignored the "personal details" part as I have my contact details as well as a statement identifying myself as an American on my CV. But I added my first 5 years of employment history (seriously, who cares what I did in 1993?!) and sent it back to him.

I get another e-mail back from this guy, thanking me again for my CV and could I please send a sheet with my personal details. He included a phone number so I called him. 

And he answered the phone in one of the most professional ways possible, "Yeah?". 

Really?!

I asked if this was XXX, he said "Yeah", and I identified myself and asked what he meant exactly by personal details.

Guess what he wants?

My passport number, my birthday, my address, my age, marital status, where I'm from in the US etc...

Basically everything you need to steal my identity or come rob me.

So of course me being me, I asked why he needed that kind of information to determine if I was qualified for the Risk Manager position. This is the condensed version of how the conversation went:

Him:  Um...um... I just need it.

Me:  Well I need a better reason than that - what are you going to use it for?

Him:  Let me tell you about us, we're a property management company and we need a risk manager.  Give me your personal details, we need them to determine if you will go to the next round.

Me: Well I don't give out that information to people I don't know.  You contacted me from Linkedin and I have no idea who you are or if you really represent this company.  And next round of what?

Him:  Just give me your birthday, how old are you, what is your address?  I need to know if you fit the band.

Me:  Band of what?  I don't understand how my birthday and address are necessary to determining if I have the background for the position.

Him:  Just tell me your age.

WTF?!

Me:  How about this, take the average age of a university graduate, then add on my years of experience.  That will give you an idea.  I'm not comfortable giving you my personal information, my CV should have everything you need.

Him:  Well I'll let you know if you move to the next level.

Me:  Mmmm, Yeah. That's O.K.  Bye.

WTF?!  Give me an Effing break! 

So I look up the company online (I should have done this in the first place like I usually do) - and guess what?  The company doesn't have any listings for Risk Managers in Dubai, and the phone number he gave is not the same exchange as the company.  Numbers here tend to start with the same exchange depending on what area they are in.  Especially large companies like the one this guy was suppose to be from.

Then I went back to check his e-mail address - it was a Google account instead of a company one.  I guess I wasn't thinking this morning.  Maybe coffee deprived?

Best case, he actually did work for the company and was a sexist, racist, ageist, bigot.  At worst he was a thief.  Although really is a bigot better than a thief? 

Most likely not as thieves are usually equal opportunity.

America, America, my home sweet home....

I can't wait to be back in a real job market.

Blissful....NOT!

Guess what?! My Bliss has not been found.

Let me clarify, my Arabian Mocha Sanani has not been found.

As a matter of fact the SOB's at Starbucks have discontinued the brand.

Can you fricken believe that?!  And all of the reviews on Starbucks.com are excellent!

How can they do that to me?!
And why can't I add my two cents on the website?

http://www.starbucksstore.com/products/shprodde.asp?SKU=312969

I'm crushed!  And I'm not buying my beans at Starbucks anymore.

This SUCKS!

And, of course, no one in the UAE even knows that its been discontinued.

They keep telling me "It will come next week M'am".

BAH!

They need to look at their own website or communicate the fact that there will be no more Arabian Mocha Sanani for anyone.  Anywhere.

Fine.

I'm just going over to the dark side.  I've found another coffee that I like, I tried it for the first time today.  AND it's from Caribou Coffee.

Take that Starbucks!

I now love Caribou's Mocha Java.  And guess what? It too is made from Yemen beans.

http://www.cariboucoffee.com/asp/shop/detail.asp?c=1&p=75

So now I can have a proper Blissful experience again.

BLISS!

Ahhhhh....

Child Marriage and other things on my mind this morning.

I was reading this blog http://stilettosinthesand.blogspot.com/ yesterday.

It's written by an American woman who's had the misfortune of living in KSA for the past 7 years.  She's just "escaped" and made it back to America.  In her blog she mentioned this 2005 article regarding child marriage.

http://archive.arabnews.com/?page=1§ion=0&article=66983&d=15&m=7&y=2005

Now, when I say child I mean CHILD.

After doing the complicated math it turns out this baby was married off by her sperm donor (there is no way I'm calling this freak her father) for the first time at the age of FIVE.

Yep that's right FIVE.

Some perverted 50 year old man married this little FIVE year old girl.

I cannot tell you how angry this makes me.  But wait...it gets better...

Her Grandmother sued and was granted a divorce for the child, but when she went to go collect her she was no where to be found.

Why you ask?

Because her sperm donor sold married her off again at the ripe old age of TEN.

Now it doesn't say what the Grandmother was going to do now that the child was married again.  Hopefully they didn't have to go through another divorce, but could just pick her up and take her home.

Yeah right, like that happened!

She's in a country where a FIVE year old can be married off legally.  I bet the poor thing is still "married" to the pedophile - and at 15 she's probably considered "used" up and he (the "husband') is most likely looking for another TEN year old "wife".

Here's another article regarding a TEN year old Yemeni girl who was raped and beaten by her 30 something year old "husband".

http://articles.latimes.com/2008/jun/11/world/fg-childbride11

She actually took matters into her own hands and went to the courts by herself to get a divorce.

This kills me - no one helped her but her Aunt and she only provided bus fare.

ARGH!!!

Here's an article about an EIGHT year old who was granted an annulment.  Her 20 something year old "husband" told the court that he had "consummated" the marriage but didn't beat her.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/7351336.stm

Well that was mighty nice of him wasn't it?!

Yes, your Honor, I raped the small child BUT I DID NOT beat her.

WTF people?!

In other news...

Apparently our communist president hired this idiot - Dr. Donald Berwick - to oversee Medicare and Medicaid.

http://www.cnsnews.com/news/article/66920

This guy thinks the UK NHS system is the bomb.

Obviously he's never had to rely on it.

Clearly he's never looked deeply enough into it to realize that the government has made healthcare in the UK a nightmare.

He says "“The NHS is a bridge – a towering bridge – between the rhetoric of justice and the fact of justice.”

It's a bridge alright, a bridge to an early grave.

You have to wait a minimum of NINE MONTHS before you can get any surgery.  ANY surgery that isn't an emergency.  That was the wait time when I left the country in 2007.  It could be longer now - I'm not sure.

And I'm not sure what the NHS considers an emergency since I worked with a gentleman who needed heart valve repair surgery, his heart stopped about 6 times while he was waiting for his surgery.

SIX TIMES PEOPLE.

And it didn't bump him up in the line any quicker.

And it takes about 6 weeks to get an appointment unless you pay extra and become a "private" patient.  But you still get the same crappy doctors.

My own personal experience with the UK healthcare system was pretty impressive.  As some of you know I had a stroke back in 2001. 

Guess what?

It happened in America so I was seen immediately and hospitalized for tests the same day (turns out my neurologist thinks the stroke was courtesy of Vioxx). 

Anyway, fast forward to 2006, we're living in London - Wimbledon no less.  Suppose to be a posh area (looks like the slums in America) and you would think there would be decent doctors there.

Because your doctor is determined by your address.  Yep - you don't get a choice of doctors in the NHS you are assigned one based on your home address.  So if you want to see one near work you are S.O.L. unless you want to pay out of pocket as a "private" patient. 

Something else we get to look forward to I'm sure if dipshit Dr. Donald Berwick has his way.

So anyway it's 2006, I'm having chest pains - which really concerns me because hey I've already had a stroke - and I go to the doctor.

I tell him my history.

And he says to me, without taking my blood pressure, temperature, or even listening to my heart - you may have gall bladder problems.  If it's still bothering you in a week come back in and we'll have a look at it.

I look at him and say seriously?!  What if it's a heart attack?  He just says you're too young, if you're still feeling bad in a week come back in.

The whole thing took about 10 minutes.

And since I'm still alive it wasn't a heart attack - but if it had been I'd be dead because the doctor was an incompetent shit. 

This is the same one that saw my hubby and diagnosed his ear infection as cotton stuck in his ear - come back in a week if it still bothers you.  His eardrum burst and he now sports a scar on his eardrum.

Here is an earlier post about the UK healthcare system and here is another one and below are more articles.

"Around 10,000 people die in England each year after their cancer is diagnosed late, and the UK has one of the poorest records in Europe for spotting the disease at an early stage."
http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2010/mar/08/nhs-early-cancer-diagnosis

"It comes as an alarming report reveals that British women are more likely to die from cancer than those in most other European countries. Death rates here are worse than in Croatia, Russia, Bulgaria and Lithuania."
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/health/article-1231940/Britains-shame-cancer-toll-women--nearly-worst-Europe.html

Oh yeah - this is just what we need...

Or we can be like the Canadians...

http://www.debbieschlussel.com/6607/obamacare-a-canadian-wait-time-preview/

They seem to have a healthcare system that is about as good as the NHS is.

OH MY GOSH!!!!  I can hardly wait to be treated like Shit when I get sick so I can die faster and in a more painful way.

Aren't you excited too!?

I've been gone...

I wasn't feeling well, so I haven't been posting.

I know I was missed.

You were crying weren't you?!

Never fear, I am here.

I'm back (said in the creepy little girl poltergeist voice).

Anyway as you know I have fibroids. Well I think you know.

If you didn't you know now. I have fibroids.

My doctor here suggested that I go back to the US to have surgery.

She is an American doctor who moved here because her husband was promoted to oversee this region.

And she's not a huge fan of living here, but she loves her husband.

Anyway - I digress.

So after she suggested surgery I looked up fibroids, what they are, what causes them, and what are the treatments.

And guess what.

Fat causes fibroids.

Why don't doctors tell you in blunt, no uncertain terms, what fat does to you?!

Why didn't one of my doctors say to me if you don't lose the weight you will be in pain, and you will be cutting your life short blah, blah, blah?

I mean, maybe I wouldn't have listened, but I think I would have listened at least a little.

At the very least I think I wouldn't have gained quite so much weight.

Now I have 40 pounds and 5 fibroids to get rid of.

Fat is no Bueno.

Spanking Your Kids

I like these articles:

http://www.lifesitenews.com/ldn/2010/jan/10010507.html

http://www.usatoday.com/money/companies/management/2006-10-08-spanking-ceos-usat_x.htm

They confirm what I've always thought. Kids need to be spanked.

Not all the time.

But sometimes.

It's one of my pet peeves. Out of control kids, who are never spanked.

I was spanked and I think I turned out pretty good. And my parents were not by any stretch of the imagination good parents.

But the one thing they did right, spanking.

We learned our limits, we learned what behavior was acceptable in public.

And most importantly:

We learned to respect our elders.

Kids now a days will flip you the bird if you tell them to stop running in the mall.

I have a neighbor who can't figure out why her 13 year old won't listen to her. She has no follow through.

You can threaten all day long, but if you don't have any follow through you're just teaching your kid they don't have to listen to authority. They have a sense of entitlement, they flip off the police. They are very unpleasant to be around.

We haven't seen our niece or nephew in about 5 years because the in-laws don't believe in telling them no, much less spank them. As a result they are demon spawn. To the point the Montessori school their eldest was in when she was 5 told them they needed to do something about her.

A hippie Montessori school.

That should tell you something. That child needed her butt smacked in the worse possible way. She was so out of control. But her parents wouldn't do anything, so we won't go see them. At all.

When I was a kid these are the things that got us a spanking:

Talking back - that was a smack in the mouth. Needless to say we didn't do it, and it only took one smack in the mouth to learn that. Pretty simple huh. No yelling, no screaming, just one smack. No blood drawn, no bruises, just a simple smack that startled more than hurt.

Acting up in public - this included fighting with my sister. That was a smack on the butt. Bare butt if you didn't stop the first time you were told. Again - no bruises. It just stung and it was embarrassing. My mother didn't even do it in public, it was always when we got home. But it was embarrassing just the same.

Cussing - either a smack in the mouth if it was bad enough or my father would wash our mouths out with soap. Another good punishment. Doesn't hurt, just tastes nasty.

Lying - which was the worse thing you could do according to my father. If he caught you in a lie your butt was going to be red. I learned that if you do something wrong you admit it, take your punishment, make if better if you could, then move on.

A lot more people need to learn that lesson.

My father's opinion regarding liars - once you lied no one could ever trust you again. Same goes for cheaters. Never be a liar or a cheat he would say. No one will respect you.

And lord you better not come home having been spanked by the teacher in school. Because my parents knew that we were spanked for a reason. Not like parents today who freak out at the thought of their little angles being spanked by the teacher. My parents knew we did something wrong, and we better tell the truth about it because not only would we get spanked for being spanked in school, but we would get spanked for lying about it.

And when we turned about 8 years old we were sat down and told we were too old to spank. I think that's appropriate - by 8 you should know how to act in public and to your elders.

I'm all for spanking - kids today are hellions. They're like dogs - you have to train them before they are tolerable. If you don't train them don't bring them out in public because the only person who likes your children is you.

And if you don't train them don't blame society on the fact that they have problems socializing, have no friends, and that you are losing them. It's your fault.

Don't get me wrong I'm fully aware once a kid hits their teens they have a mind of their own - no matter how well they were brought up. I'm talking about kids, 13 and under. Although 13 may be pushing it.

I know what I was like when I hit 15.

On the surface all sweetness and light, underneath I was a little hellion. I snuck out of the house, had boyfriends in the house when my mother was gone. But I knew how to behave.

I knew how to say; Yes Sir, Yes Ma'm and the adults were for the most part pretty happy with me.

Not like kids today - it's all yeah ,what and grunts.

The only time I interact with children willingly is through friends I have with children. These are friends who actually have taken the time to raise their kids. I have quite a few friends with kids and without exception they are well behaved.

No matter how much I liked them - if their kids weren't behaving I couldn't spend time in their company. And if your friends have kids, and you want to keep those friends, you spend time with them both. And I have to say, my friends kids are fun. And I like them.

I hope that the more info that comes out in favor of spanking, kids are way the hell out of hand and people need to start to realize that the saying spare the rod spoil the child is true.

At the very least popping your kids once in a while would make eating in restaurants and shopping a much more pleasant experience for those of us who have chosen not to have them.

Ick

It's Sunday - which is Monday.

I'm not a fan of Mondays or Sundays when they masquerade as Mondays. 

It's the first day of the work week - in a job where we get nasty grams. 

Why can't people just be nice?  What a bad start to the day.

I have his ick feeling in my stomach because the first thing I read this morning was a you suck and didn't do your job so we're not going to pay you e-mail.

Never mind that I can prove we did our job.  Never mind that it's the lawyer's fault the client got into trouble.  I'll never figure it out, but somehow the lawyer was able to convince the client that it was our fault.  Even though the problem happened prior to our starting the engagement.

It just makes me want to wash my hands of the whole thing, flip the lawyer the bird, and file a claim with the small claims court and let them deal with it.  Of course it's not that simple here.

It's not at home either - but somehow I don't think I would have gotten such a nasty gram back home.

Ick.

On the bright side my coffee is good today.