See... what had happened was....

Ok so maybe there's a blog post missing. To me that post meant something, but to Cush it meant something entirely different so I took it down at his request.

If you missed it, basically Cush's mum and I had a really bad altercation and I wrote about it.

So, I haven't written in awhile. I've been busy trying to shed some stubborn December/early January weight gain (8lbs!), throwing Cush a surprise birthday party and trying to find us a place to live.

The weight gain I put down to a lot of drinking at parties, events and such (the worst thing you can do if you want to lose/do not want to gain), along with eating party/event food (the second worst thing you can do if you want to lose/do not want to gain) and then either being too sick with a cold to exercise or being to hungover to exercise.

It happens to the best of us.

All in all I've pledged to myself that I will get this under control and back down because lets just be honest I have a predisposition to being over weight and I don't want to be.

The surprise party went well, Cush was surprised and had no idea what I had been up to. I made a cake and everyone seemed to like it, which is always really good. I actually made 3 cakes and ruined 2 of them...

The amount of planning and lying that goes into a surprise party is a lot though. And if you can't lie well don't bother. I can lie very well it seems but I hate lying, and people who lie, generally.

First I had to act like I wasn't even thinking about his birthday with the odd question like, hey what do you want to do for your birthday?

Cush would say he didn't know what he wanted to do and what did I think? I'd shrug and say you're the birthday boy you tell me.

Then I had to invite people.

Then I had to make some food. Since I thought Cush would think it was odd that I had extra food in the house, I told him I had a catering job for a friend.

So the next step is to get the person out of the house. To do this you will generally need an accomplice.

My accomplice was supposed to take Cush to see Tron but Cush decided that he was going to go with another friend who was not on the "inside" of things earlier that week. That made things a bit more difficult.

My accomplice and I mulled over what on earth we could do to get Cush out of the house. Massages? "Too gay" my accomplice said.

How about bowling? "Can you bowl with only 2 people?"

Ok how about this (I was on to a winner!) you're having a crisis and you need to talk about for a really long time. "Yeah we don't really have that sort of relationship"

In the end my accomplice took Cush to get some new tweeters for his car (it's a sort of tiny speaker that catches the higher notes as opposed to a subwoofer that catches the deeper notes such as bass, I think).

But the guy didn't have any tweeters and basically the accomplice took Cush on a run around.

In the end it all worked out.

So...about looking for a place to live....we've met with an agent and checked out a few places.

1 Cush and I actually like but we thought it was a bit too expensive for us. The only thing I really didn't like about it was the bathrooms. They were very dark, just all dark tile on the walls and floors, and no counter space or cupboards.

Speaking of cupboards, why don't any places have closets?

Omani's wear a lot of, and pardon me, but dresses. Essentially it's dresses. Floor length dresses...you can't tell me you don't hang up your abayas and dishdashas. So where does everyone get their wardrobes from?

It's not like I can just pop down to Ikea any time I want, or maybe I can? I'm so confused! You can read about here and here on Muscat Mutterings.