Awkward Embrace

Okay, Okay Brain, time for Pinky to begin contributing to the blog once again.  After a couple week hiatus, it's good to be back.  While Brain did an excellent job on the last two entries, there was a very significant date that I would like to address further - our 1 year anniversary (February 12th for those you keeping track).  

Sorry I was busy texting or checking sports scores or wearing sport coats, so it's my turn to blog now?

The first date may forever live in infamy as the first time the Brain and I ever met.  Here is a small recount of our first date:

It all took place on a blustery day in Colorado.  Previous attempts at a first date had been unsuccessful due to large blankets of snow covering the Denver Metro area.  Pinky picked the scene for the first date, which was a dodgy old bowling lane (unbeknownst to him) filled with teenagers smoking and asian adolescents with sleeve tattoos (not kidding).  Pinky arrived first sporting a traditional lumberjack flannel shirt and helped himself to a Miller Lite to pass the time before the Brain was set to arrive.  He was after all 15 minutes early!  Pinky assessed the situation of the place he had suggested to meet, and thought that this was the perfect scene for another Plenty of Fish first date night mare.  The Brain came strolling in rocking a black pea coat and green khakis.  Bouncy and confident, she approached Pinky and the two engaged in their first awkward hug of the night (not to be their last).  The two strangers in the night proceeded to bowl 3 games, of which the Brain dominated the first two.  It wasn't until after another beer and a few dance moves later that Pinky was able to get into the triple digit bowling scores where true bowling legends live.  Before heading off in their separate ways, Pinky and the Brain decided to have one more memorable drink.  To assure his financial status, Pinky insisted that he would pay.  As he swiftly pulled out the credit card to pay, the smoothness of his action resulted in reduced friction between his fingers and credit card resulting in the credit card being launched at the bartender and finally coming to rest in the nearly full garbage immediately in front of said bartender.  

After laughing off the moment over the final evening's cocktail, Pinky and the Brain went on their separate ways.  After grabbing their respective coats and heading outside past the smoking and tattooed toddlers, it was time to say goodbye.  In an exchange that would haunt Hollywood romance movie makers, Pinky stepped in for a hug, while the Brain leaned in for a kiss.  Not until pulling back from the hug, did Pinky realize that a kiss was on the table.  This realization was met with another half-hearted lean in for a hug as the original kiss proposition was appropriately dismissed.  The culmination of these events left both Pinky and the Brain wishing for a "mulligan" to try again.  As luck and fate would have it, the two would get this chance in the not so distant future…..Valentine's Day.

Proof that we still aren't always on the same page.....

But when we are, it is bliss......

So that, my loyal subjects, is the story of how we got here.  Pinky and the Bahrain wouldn't exist today without these very awkward and embarrassing first steps or more appropriately mis-steps.  But our story speaks to a bigger story in general I think.  That is to remember to wake up every day and smell the roses.  Live in the moment as the cliche goes; but also remember your past and remember where you started and where you've been.  Let that remembrance be the thing that keeps you pushing forward in your weakest moments through life's trials and tribulations.  

Flashing some Flesh

No matter where I move, or what I pack, I always end up thinking the same thing... I should have brought more clubbing dresses.

While I was getting ready to leave for "The Middle East", I had a very serious packing session with my sisters. They would hold something up, and we would decide if it was modest enough. If you know me at all, you will know that not many things made the cut. You could hear us proclaiming; "Too low cut.", "Too much leg", "Too see through and sparkly and neon"(that dress was my favorite). I cut down to about 15% of my original wardrobe.

I was very sad to see them go. I hoped they would wait for me.

To the delight of my resourceful sisters, I packed away all my pretties (which I'm sure they've divvied up between the two of them by now), and headed East with my most modest outfits. Cowl necks, maxi dresses, and scarves by the dozen all came with me. The first night we went out on the town, I wore one of my long dresses, sandals, with a scarf to cover my shoulders. I felt pretty good; until I saw what the other girls were wearing.

This wasn't them, but it very well could have been.

Everyone else was wearing the dresses I had left behind! There was leg, cleavage and spandex as far as the eye could see. And not one damn scarf. Not one. It stands to logic, that traditional Muslim women wouldn't be at a bar, which means no hijabs. Traditional Muslims don't drink, and, as I now know, the bars are full of scantily dressed women. Not the best place for modesty. Last week, I decided it was time to replenish my supply of sexy. In essence, I was bringing sexy back.

It's not sparkly, but it IS neon. My friend said I could be an air traffic controller... I think that means I nailed it.

Before I moved, I also stocked up on my basics - tee shirts, leggings, long sleeve shirts - because I figured there wouldn't be quick access to my favorite stores here. On the contrary, right across the street from my house, there is a mall with H&M, Forever 21, and Gap. Basically, what I'm saying is- Bahrain is not as foreign as people would have you think. They pretty much have everything, but with better Indian food.

This street in Bahrain had a Chilis, Dairy queen, Papa Johns, Carl's Jr., Pizza Hut, Hardees AND McDonalds.  Obviously we stopped.

The only thing missing is a Target. If I've learned one thing, it's to never take Target for granted. You need a nail clipper? Target. A pair of cheap towels? Target. A freaking Christmas Tree? Target! I'm sure, with time, I'll find all the local stores for these things, but until then, I'm left wondering, 'Where do I find a dust buster?'

Frouple Mania

As Pinky so elequently put it- we're trying to frouple up. We're looking for friend couples to hang out with. Looking back on how much we talked about it, it may seem a little creepy. It is creepy actually. We're on the prowl.

We're li-gers. Grrrrr.

In high school/college, and then later at work, it was easy to make new friends. You have your roommates, your coworkers, people in class, and friends-of-friends. It was a huge melting pot of people at your fingertips. One of the reoccurring things I'm hearing from ex-pats, is the problem of creating a new social network when you're plopped down into the middle of no where (aka Bahrain). There are choices. You can either sit around making references to "your crew", knowing full well the crew is only two people (Pinky and myself), OR you can actively look for friends.

Don't mess with "the crew". (Full crew shown here)

To avoid one of us feeling sad and left out due to an imbalance of new friends, the best solution seemed like a couple to be friends with. Hence the frouple search. (It had nothing to do with swinger tendencies- if that's what you were thinking. Common misunderstanding) We know we are fun, but how do you convince total strangers of that? I tried showing off my break dancing skills, but it didn't work.

Who wouldn't want to be friends with these dorks?

Froupling, however, is actually quite hard. There is no reasonable way to walk up to someone and say, 'would you and your significant other like to be our friends?' (Unless you're on Facebook, then it's easy.)  So the first actual approach was a little rocky. We were down by the pool, and we heard a group of people speaking with American accents. It had been 2 weeks, and no interaction with anyone but Pinky had driven me to desperate measures. I put my big-girl-panties on, and approached a group of total strangers to see if they wanted to be my friend. Alone. (Pinky had forgotten said panties.) I think I said something like, "So... hi. Come to this pool often?"

I should probably get this shirt.

It worked! They invited us up for brunch! I was very excited. My confidence in my "friend requesting" abilities was restored. It was a friend request frenzy after that. We met a nice lady at Pinky's office, who graciously invited us to her house warming party. The people here in Bahrain have proven their kindness time and time again. She barely knew us, but she took us in, and introduced us to all her fabulous friends. I shamelessly asked for everyone's phone number, and followed up with them the next day. I learned that friends are not made by the meek.  If you want them - pursue them.

(Visual representation of the housewarming)
I think you have to be friends for more than an hour to take pictures of a group.

Not only were we able to meet a plethora of amazing new people, but I also told everyone I was looking for a job. Two days after the house warming party, I was hired by a friend-of-a-new-friend. (Yea!) Social networking has become a powerful tool - with LinkedIn and Facebook taking over the world - I just had forgotten how to do it in real life.