Dubai is at it again. This time its channeling Lyon. Great!
Like Dubai isn't as fake or confusing as it is now without the whole faux Lyon. I like Dubai. I have great friends there (hi friends! waving frantically, blowing kisses). But its very confusing to me.
Las Vegas, I get. It's kitschy, it's over the top, it's like a drag queen. Dubai is just staged, fake, more like an imposture. It's more like a transvestite who's trying too hard and not enjoying himself/herself in the process. (what a weird metaphor! how did I come up with that?!!)
Dubai is like a woman with the great personality who keeps getting plastic surgery and ends up looking like a blowup doll with Pam Anderson's breasts, Angelina's lips, Michael Jackson's nose (riiiiiight!) and Nancy Ajram's overinflated cheekbones. The lady you want to hug and say 7abeebti, please stop! you're starting to look like a freak. You were much prettier to begin with!
It's a pretty cool city...I just wish it would stop doing this to itself and have the guts to be a little more authentic.
Dubai, we will always love you for who you are.
31 January 2008
30 January 2008
I came across Eric Zorn's "50 things I've learned in 50 years, a partial list in no particular order" through The Happiness Project . It's great, you should read it.
My favorites are:
1. It’s better to sing off key than not to sing at all.
3. You can’t avoid offending people from time to time. When you don’t mean it, apologize. When you do mean it, accept the consequences.
6. The most valuable thing to have is a good reputation, and it’s neither hard nor expensive to acquire one: Be fair. Be honest. Be trustworthy. Be generous. Respect others.
7. Prejudice and bigotry is hard-wired into us. You can’t overcome it until you acknowledge it.
17. Don’t waste your breath proclaiming what’s really important to you. How you spend your time says it all.
22. Anyone who judges you by the kind of car you drive or shoes you wear isn’t someone worth impressing.
31. Physical attraction is nice, but shared values and a shared sense of humor are the real keys to lasting love.
46. Be truthful or be quiet. Lies are hard to keep track of.
Number 21 hit me like a ton of bricks.
21. Fear of failure is a ticket to mediocrity. If you’re not failing from time to time, you’re not pushing yourself. And if you’re not pushing yourself, you’re coasting.
My favorites are:
1. It’s better to sing off key than not to sing at all.
3. You can’t avoid offending people from time to time. When you don’t mean it, apologize. When you do mean it, accept the consequences.
6. The most valuable thing to have is a good reputation, and it’s neither hard nor expensive to acquire one: Be fair. Be honest. Be trustworthy. Be generous. Respect others.
7. Prejudice and bigotry is hard-wired into us. You can’t overcome it until you acknowledge it.
17. Don’t waste your breath proclaiming what’s really important to you. How you spend your time says it all.
22. Anyone who judges you by the kind of car you drive or shoes you wear isn’t someone worth impressing.
31. Physical attraction is nice, but shared values and a shared sense of humor are the real keys to lasting love.
46. Be truthful or be quiet. Lies are hard to keep track of.
Number 21 hit me like a ton of bricks.
21. Fear of failure is a ticket to mediocrity. If you’re not failing from time to time, you’re not pushing yourself. And if you’re not pushing yourself, you’re coasting.
I have a door obsession. I don't know how, when, or why it started. But I love doors and pictures of door. It can call for some dangerous driving. My bumper sticker should read "I brake for pretty doors".
(It's very fitting that I love this song*.)
Enjoy!
*Non-Arabic speakers: it's about doors! (well...standing at doors saying goodbye to loved ones, watching doors expecting their return...etc...)
29 January 2008
Trash your heart*
After a long sleepless night morning, I decided to go to Marina Crescent and take a walk in the wee morning hours (okay...it was 8 a.m. but its still wee morning to me).
And I think I saw a sign! A divine message encrypted on a wall that only I could understand.
"Trash your heart," a stamp on the wall said. And that I will.
Internets, I thank you for your support but "Marina World" apparently's got my back. Big Elk and Mountain Thunder, I salute you.
----------
* Alternate titles: dump your loved ones, love your trash can, "can" the love at Marina seafronts? Seriously, though what the hell is that?!
And I think I saw a sign! A divine message encrypted on a wall that only I could understand.
"Trash your heart," a stamp on the wall said. And that I will.
Internets, I thank you for your support but "Marina World" apparently's got my back. Big Elk and Mountain Thunder, I salute you.
----------
* Alternate titles: dump your loved ones, love your trash can, "can" the love at Marina seafronts? Seriously, though what the hell is that?!
27 January 2008
I live two streets down from mint chocolate chip. Yum.
Our neighborhood's gone insane. We need a color intervention.
A few blocks down from my house our neighbors are painting their house a very bright green color. For some reason it reminds me of "mint chocolate chip", my favorite ice-cream flavor. Yummy in the tummy, not so much on the street.
Across the street from us, a Spanish style house's exterior is being painted grey...like concrete only uglier. But why? 5alti you have such good taste why would u do that..?!(They also have my dream car(s)..Allah ihaneeehum.)
Two streets away from us, there's a blue house. A blue house that shimmers. Ding dong, Madonna called, she wants her 80's eyeshadow back. And I can't make this crap up, they have a matching car parked outside at all times (I'm not kidding, its an older Mercedes Benz).
Anyway I'm convinced the two freshly painted houses are painted with primers only and a top coat will happen soon. My father disagrees, he thinks the ugly is the topcoat.
No matter which way I choose exit my area, I get the urge to poke my eyes out. Lord grant me patience (and an ipod and eternal bliss..).
We need us some color Po'lice. "Sir step away from the house and put your paintbrush down. You have the right to paint your house with non-nasty colors, any bright color you use will be held against you in the court of public opinion. If you cannot afford to buy eye-pleasing colors your neighbors will buy some for you." (wai3 ilmala8a..ur still reading..?! u deserve eternal bliss for putting up with my crap.)
I kid. Everyone's entitled to having a hideous colored house if that's what they really want. At the rate real estate prices in Kuwait are increasing, if I were ever to be lucky enough to own a house in Kuwait I'd paint it all the colors of the spectrum just 'cause I can.
(A house across the street from my parents is going for a little under $2 million, it hasn't been lived in for 15 years or more. So you're paying over one million dollars for a heap of trash.)
So no I don't see any rainbow colored houses in the near future.
Hey look what I found!
"Colourful House In Sandringham Road London E8" (courtesy Calistobreeze, flickr).
A few blocks down from my house our neighbors are painting their house a very bright green color. For some reason it reminds me of "mint chocolate chip", my favorite ice-cream flavor. Yummy in the tummy, not so much on the street.
Across the street from us, a Spanish style house's exterior is being painted grey...like concrete only uglier. But why? 5alti you have such good taste why would u do that..?!(They also have my dream car(s)..Allah ihaneeehum.)
Two streets away from us, there's a blue house. A blue house that shimmers. Ding dong, Madonna called, she wants her 80's eyeshadow back. And I can't make this crap up, they have a matching car parked outside at all times (I'm not kidding, its an older Mercedes Benz).
Anyway I'm convinced the two freshly painted houses are painted with primers only and a top coat will happen soon. My father disagrees, he thinks the ugly is the topcoat.
No matter which way I choose exit my area, I get the urge to poke my eyes out. Lord grant me patience (and an ipod and eternal bliss..).
We need us some color Po'lice. "Sir step away from the house and put your paintbrush down. You have the right to paint your house with non-nasty colors, any bright color you use will be held against you in the court of public opinion. If you cannot afford to buy eye-pleasing colors your neighbors will buy some for you." (wai3 ilmala8a..ur still reading..?! u deserve eternal bliss for putting up with my crap.)
I kid. Everyone's entitled to having a hideous colored house if that's what they really want. At the rate real estate prices in Kuwait are increasing, if I were ever to be lucky enough to own a house in Kuwait I'd paint it all the colors of the spectrum just 'cause I can.
(A house across the street from my parents is going for a little under $2 million, it hasn't been lived in for 15 years or more. So you're paying over one million dollars for a heap of trash.)
So no I don't see any rainbow colored houses in the near future.
Hey look what I found!
"Colourful House In Sandringham Road London E8" (courtesy Calistobreeze, flickr).
26 January 2008
In which I see the need to work on my maturity
My maturity needs work. Lots of work. My first reaction to things I disagree with is an eye roll, which is kind of pathetic.
Act I. Scene 1:
The sun is about to set, G. is racing with about six children at a family gathering at a relative's mazra3a (ranch). AC is a 23 year old woman.
G (yelling): WoooHooo! I'm faster than Bader!
AC: G. you've got to stop running it's almost ma'3rib (sunset).
G: AC you should join our race! Bader's winning all the time.
AC: G. Stop running, its almost ma'3rib.
G (reaching the wall marking the end of the race): What? Ma'3rib? So..?
G calls out for the kids to line up...
G: who's counting down this time? Mohammad count to three...on three everyone start running to the swings...
Kids lining up at the wall. AC walks up and stands in front of the line of children...
AC: Nobody should run it's almost ma'3rib. Jinn come out at ma'3rib and if anyone falls a jinni's gonna possess their body.
G (rolling her eyes): ready, set, go.
G starts running. Kids follow. G finally wins a race.
------------------
In my defense I usually have a lot more respect for people's beliefs. I just hate when people say things that are really scary to children.
I'm open to the idea that there might be other creation sharing this world with us. But I'm not sure I'm completely comfortable with the whole bathroom-lounging, black-cat possessing, exorcism shebang. And I'm sure as hell not going to restrict my life in anyway to avoid "them".
Anyway, after I went inside to pray, AC confronted me about the whole "incident". I had nothing to say really; on one hand I don't want to offend her by saying she's full of crap. On the other, I don't want to question her beliefs which she expects me to share. Afterall, I don't.
She told me it was a hadith from the Prophet.
G: Okay.
AC: What? You don't believe me? Just because I don't know it in full doesn't mean it doesn't exist.
G: Look it up and let me know.
AC (as she walks into a room full of women): Let's ask someone.
I cringe; women in my family are quite superstitious.
Fortunately, a cousin calls my name...so the conversation ended.
I walked out and visited with the gazelles and the donkey (why my relative has a donkey at her ranch is beyond me) just to diffuse the situation.
----------------------
This is my family. These are my cousins. This is what they believe. It's always been the same and chances are they're not going to change. Why can't I just learn to deal with it maturely? Either be ready to stand up for my beliefs or just nod and smile (and in this case stop running).
Either way...I need to work on not getting annoyed by the small things.
Today's lesson: When in doubt, smile, nod and sing "I say a little prayer for you".
Act I. Scene 1:
The sun is about to set, G. is racing with about six children at a family gathering at a relative's mazra3a (ranch). AC is a 23 year old woman.
G (yelling): WoooHooo! I'm faster than Bader!
AC: G. you've got to stop running it's almost ma'3rib (sunset).
G: AC you should join our race! Bader's winning all the time.
AC: G. Stop running, its almost ma'3rib.
G (reaching the wall marking the end of the race): What? Ma'3rib? So..?
G calls out for the kids to line up...
G: who's counting down this time? Mohammad count to three...on three everyone start running to the swings...
Kids lining up at the wall. AC walks up and stands in front of the line of children...
AC: Nobody should run it's almost ma'3rib. Jinn come out at ma'3rib and if anyone falls a jinni's gonna possess their body.
G (rolling her eyes): ready, set, go.
G starts running. Kids follow. G finally wins a race.
------------------
In my defense I usually have a lot more respect for people's beliefs. I just hate when people say things that are really scary to children.
I'm open to the idea that there might be other creation sharing this world with us. But I'm not sure I'm completely comfortable with the whole bathroom-lounging, black-cat possessing, exorcism shebang. And I'm sure as hell not going to restrict my life in anyway to avoid "them".
Anyway, after I went inside to pray, AC confronted me about the whole "incident". I had nothing to say really; on one hand I don't want to offend her by saying she's full of crap. On the other, I don't want to question her beliefs which she expects me to share. Afterall, I don't.
She told me it was a hadith from the Prophet.
G: Okay.
AC: What? You don't believe me? Just because I don't know it in full doesn't mean it doesn't exist.
G: Look it up and let me know.
AC (as she walks into a room full of women): Let's ask someone.
I cringe; women in my family are quite superstitious.
Fortunately, a cousin calls my name...so the conversation ended.
I walked out and visited with the gazelles and the donkey (why my relative has a donkey at her ranch is beyond me) just to diffuse the situation.
----------------------
This is my family. These are my cousins. This is what they believe. It's always been the same and chances are they're not going to change. Why can't I just learn to deal with it maturely? Either be ready to stand up for my beliefs or just nod and smile (and in this case stop running).
Either way...I need to work on not getting annoyed by the small things.
Today's lesson: When in doubt, smile, nod and sing "I say a little prayer for you".
25 January 2008
Khaleejies + Facebook !=* love
I remember the good old days when a handful of Khaleejies** were on Facebook. Those idyllic days before I had to put my profile on lock-down.
I reminisce about those days that precede Facebook's khaleeji popularity. Before the cyber-sex invitations and the marriage proposals.
Once upon a time, (lamma kan awaaaaaaaaaaaaaal! awaaaaaaaaaaaaal! min ziman) I had a face and a search-able name. Now I have neither.
I'm convinced Facebook was not made for Khaleejies. We don't get it. Connecting with people using your real name online is too complex of a concept for us. Most Khaleejies use the internet primarily to meet members of the opposite sex...and few use their real name for illicit purposes.
Unlike many Khaleejies, I actually use the social networking website to connect with friends abroad or people I don't regularly both near or far. High school friends, college roommates, second/fifteenth cousins are all updated regularly about my oh-so-exciting life. I have pictures of me, my family, pets, home, and friends up to share with my "friends." (All the pictures are decent to the nth degree I assure you...)
I'm not against getting to know people online. I just really hate it when people step in and "cheapen" something that is of great use to me. So now when people ask "you're on Facebook?" and I say I use my real name, I get a weird look with a side of "min 9ijjich?!"
A while back "Maryooma Om-Almarayim"(not her real fake name) sent me a message on Facebook. Her profile picture was her body's silhouette on a white background, it's (or was) quite suggestive...I'm think she must be a "friend"'s friend to be able to see my name. I digress.
Message to Maryooma: Using a pseudonym for your profile is lame. Picking up guys online is light years beyond lame. That's why I'm not gonna bother to reply to your message. Get a life. Get off Facebook.
And Ooooo don't get me started about people who post pictures of celebrities as their profile picture. Whatdayouknow?! I'm friends with Jessica Simpson, Haifa Wehbe, Eva Longoria, and some random porn star!
To all those who are waiting to cry foul, I'm not elitist, I don't mind how popular it the network is, I mind how cheap they're making it.
* In computer programming != means 'not equal to.'...don't ask me how I know that.
** Khaleejies: citizens of the Arabian/Persian peninsula more specifically the Gulf Cooperation Council countries (Saudi, Kuwait, Bahrain, UAE, Qatar, Oman).
I reminisce about those days that precede Facebook's khaleeji popularity. Before the cyber-sex invitations and the marriage proposals.
Once upon a time, (lamma kan awaaaaaaaaaaaaaal! awaaaaaaaaaaaaal! min ziman) I had a face and a search-able name. Now I have neither.
I'm convinced Facebook was not made for Khaleejies. We don't get it. Connecting with people using your real name online is too complex of a concept for us. Most Khaleejies use the internet primarily to meet members of the opposite sex...and few use their real name for illicit purposes.
Unlike many Khaleejies, I actually use the social networking website to connect with friends abroad or people I don't regularly both near or far. High school friends, college roommates, second/fifteenth cousins are all updated regularly about my oh-so-exciting life. I have pictures of me, my family, pets, home, and friends up to share with my "friends." (All the pictures are decent to the nth degree I assure you...)
I'm not against getting to know people online. I just really hate it when people step in and "cheapen" something that is of great use to me. So now when people ask "you're on Facebook?" and I say I use my real name, I get a weird look with a side of "min 9ijjich?!"
A while back "Maryooma Om-Almarayim"(not her real fake name) sent me a message on Facebook. Her profile picture was her body's silhouette on a white background, it's (or was) quite suggestive...I'm think she must be a "friend"'s friend to be able to see my name. I digress.
Message to Maryooma: Using a pseudonym for your profile is lame. Picking up guys online is light years beyond lame. That's why I'm not gonna bother to reply to your message. Get a life. Get off Facebook.
And Ooooo don't get me started about people who post pictures of celebrities as their profile picture. Whatdayouknow?! I'm friends with Jessica Simpson, Haifa Wehbe, Eva Longoria, and some random porn star!
To all those who are waiting to cry foul, I'm not elitist, I don't mind how popular it the network is, I mind how cheap they're making it.
* In computer programming != means 'not equal to.'...don't ask me how I know that.
** Khaleejies: citizens of the Arabian/Persian peninsula more specifically the Gulf Cooperation Council countries (Saudi, Kuwait, Bahrain, UAE, Qatar, Oman).
24 January 2008
10 reasons I don't go to movies during weekends in Kuwait:
10) Kuwaitis tend to think all movies are appropriate for all ages. A two year old in a gory war movie? perfectly appropriate.
9) Although there's Arabic subtitles, the person behind me always explains exactly what's going on(i.e. reading the freggin' subtitles) in a very loud voice for his 3 year old who's on the other end of the theater.
8) People walk in late to the movie (like 20/30 minutes late) then take forever to get adjusted. Once they get adjusted they start switching seats cause the two year old wants to sit next to the four year old and the seven year old.
7) Midway through the movie the oldest "kid" (usually around 12 years old)gets sent out to replenish supplies. Mind you, that person is always sitting in the middle of the row and moves REAL slow.
6) The two year old who kicks your seat all through the movie and when you turn around to say something his/her ice-queen mother ignores you.
5) People who send children with their maids to age-inappropriate movies. Kids start running amuck and no one's there to control them.
4) The guy who starts telling us what's gonna happen next..."al7een, bit6ali3 il mosadas o tithba7a" Shut the !@#$% up! It's not storytime at the library!
3) The idiot whose phone keeps ringing throughout the movie.
2) The idiot who keeps answering his phone saying "hella..wallah ana il7een bilcinema adig 3laik lamma a6la3"
1) The @$$hole who talks throughout the movie...often telling whomever's on the other end about the movie and about how freggin' annoyed we are at him.
Other issues: censorship. Yeah its annoying sometimes but I like not having to worry about my 13 year old brother going into inappropriate movies at multiplex's. Generally if I know a movie is edited beyond recognition I save it for a "movie night" at our beach house.
For the perfect movie experience:
-- get enough snacks to last you the whole movie (don't try to be cute with your small popcorn...if you want more go ahead and buy it before you enter the theater)
-- turn your cellphone off or keep it in silent mode. If you REALLY need to communicate with the outside world send a text message.
-- make sure the movie is appropriate for your kids and please don't send them in with maids.
-- if you really need to explain something to someone neardo it in a whisper.
-- keep your stinky feet off other people's seats.
-- take your trash out with you.
9) Although there's Arabic subtitles, the person behind me always explains exactly what's going on(i.e. reading the freggin' subtitles) in a very loud voice for his 3 year old who's on the other end of the theater.
8) People walk in late to the movie (like 20/30 minutes late) then take forever to get adjusted. Once they get adjusted they start switching seats cause the two year old wants to sit next to the four year old and the seven year old.
7) Midway through the movie the oldest "kid" (usually around 12 years old)gets sent out to replenish supplies. Mind you, that person is always sitting in the middle of the row and moves REAL slow.
6) The two year old who kicks your seat all through the movie and when you turn around to say something his/her ice-queen mother ignores you.
5) People who send children with their maids to age-inappropriate movies. Kids start running amuck and no one's there to control them.
4) The guy who starts telling us what's gonna happen next..."al7een, bit6ali3 il mosadas o tithba7a" Shut the !@#$% up! It's not storytime at the library!
3) The idiot whose phone keeps ringing throughout the movie.
2) The idiot who keeps answering his phone saying "hella..wallah ana il7een bilcinema adig 3laik lamma a6la3"
1) The @$$hole who talks throughout the movie...often telling whomever's on the other end about the movie and about how freggin' annoyed we are at him.
Other issues: censorship. Yeah its annoying sometimes but I like not having to worry about my 13 year old brother going into inappropriate movies at multiplex's. Generally if I know a movie is edited beyond recognition I save it for a "movie night" at our beach house.
For the perfect movie experience:
-- get enough snacks to last you the whole movie (don't try to be cute with your small popcorn...if you want more go ahead and buy it before you enter the theater)
-- turn your cellphone off or keep it in silent mode. If you REALLY need to communicate with the outside world send a text message.
-- make sure the movie is appropriate for your kids and please don't send them in with maids.
-- if you really need to explain something to someone neardo it in a whisper.
-- keep your stinky feet off other people's seats.
-- take your trash out with you.
23 January 2008
One day at a time
I miss...
... indie coffee houses with that warm welcoming smell.
...cheap avocados...
...roadtrips...
...victoria's secret...
but most of all I miss who I was.
... indie coffee houses with that warm welcoming smell.
...cheap avocados...
...roadtrips...
...victoria's secret...
but most of all I miss who I was.
20 January 2008
My biggest fear
What if this is it?
There's no better job.
My living situation is not temporary.
No better political atmosphere.
No companionship, no real friends.
No ebbing, no flowing, just this
No grad school
No better tomorrows.
No worse tomorrow either.
Just this.
I'm not complaining about my life. I appreciate how privileged I am. It's just that I keep telling myself that it'll get better in the future. That settling is not an option. That if I hang tight, it'll start looking up.
My life is fine. It's just uninspired that's all.
19 January 2008
No guts, no glory
Like a lot of Muslim women who cover I have an interesting relationship with my hair. In fact like most women populating this planet I have a love-hate relationship with my hair. I'm lucky enough to be able to ignore it for weeks at a time, only paying attention when I'm having an awful hair-day or a big event where it needs to cooperate and be styled impeccably.
Most days I pay no attention to it whatsoever. Till I get bored with life and instead of going in for a trim I ask my wonderful hairstylist to hack it off. "All of it?!" Sure. I did this a little over a year ago when I had her cut my hair a little longer than chin-length ('cause I need to be able to pull it back in a pony-tail). Today I noticed my hair was almost past my elbow again. I guess I should be counting my blessings to have hair that grows faster than the speed of light.
The thing with having hair that grows so fast is that drastic changes only last a few months and hair requires constant upkeep. If I were to color my hair, roots are already in the minute I step out the beauty shop. And a nice, different hairdo needs a "restyling" trim.
All this to say...
I'm bored with my hair and wished I had more guts to do this
shave my head.
sport a colorful mohawk.
color my hair pink (not that it would be flattering with my skintone)
and last but not least dread my hair (no sex change..I just love this dude's dreads.)
(last two images courtesy onyxdragonflyy,tiagopavan,flickr)
Why not go for it? (being covered and having crazy hair growth are great reasons to)
1) I'm too much of a chicken and conformer.
2) I love my mother and any of the above would give her a heart attack. (I love you, Mommy)
Most days I pay no attention to it whatsoever. Till I get bored with life and instead of going in for a trim I ask my wonderful hairstylist to hack it off. "All of it?!" Sure. I did this a little over a year ago when I had her cut my hair a little longer than chin-length ('cause I need to be able to pull it back in a pony-tail). Today I noticed my hair was almost past my elbow again. I guess I should be counting my blessings to have hair that grows faster than the speed of light.
The thing with having hair that grows so fast is that drastic changes only last a few months and hair requires constant upkeep. If I were to color my hair, roots are already in the minute I step out the beauty shop. And a nice, different hairdo needs a "restyling" trim.
All this to say...
I'm bored with my hair and wished I had more guts to do this
shave my head.
sport a colorful mohawk.
color my hair pink (not that it would be flattering with my skintone)
and last but not least dread my hair (no sex change..I just love this dude's dreads.)
(last two images courtesy onyxdragonflyy,tiagopavan,flickr)
Why not go for it? (being covered and having crazy hair growth are great reasons to)
1) I'm too much of a chicken and conformer.
2) I love my mother and any of the above would give her a heart attack. (I love you, Mommy)
18 January 2008
Yup, I'm a giraffe
I know who I am. No one else knows who I am. If I was a giraffe, and someone said I was a snake, I'd think, no, actually I'm a giraffe.
- Richard Gere
- Richard Gere
17 January 2008
They're gone already
I hate this time of year.
I love Kuwait's winters. I really do. But every year late December and early January bring lots of friends who are currently living abroad and I have a thriving social life that requires no thought. Then come mid-January everyone leaves and I'm stuck with friends and acquaintances who I love but relationships with them require work.
Things like restraining myself from looking at my friends like they're crazy when one says something like "I'd love a new Range Rover" despite the fact that her car is less than a year old or wear so much makeup that I can barely recognize her or drive with a baby in one hand and a cell phone in another.
I think more than anything I long for people who are at the same "wavelength" as I am.
There's a lot of people that share this feeling with me out there I'm sure I just need to find them. (I sound like a whiny chicken nugget...Kuwait doesn't "get" me...I swear I'm not so I'm gonna end this right here.)
Give me a break, I just miss my close friends.(Hi friends, I miss you.)
I love Kuwait's winters. I really do. But every year late December and early January bring lots of friends who are currently living abroad and I have a thriving social life that requires no thought. Then come mid-January everyone leaves and I'm stuck with friends and acquaintances who I love but relationships with them require work.
Things like restraining myself from looking at my friends like they're crazy when one says something like "I'd love a new Range Rover" despite the fact that her car is less than a year old or wear so much makeup that I can barely recognize her or drive with a baby in one hand and a cell phone in another.
I think more than anything I long for people who are at the same "wavelength" as I am.
There's a lot of people that share this feeling with me out there I'm sure I just need to find them. (I sound like a whiny chicken nugget...Kuwait doesn't "get" me...I swear I'm not so I'm gonna end this right here.)
Give me a break, I just miss my close friends.(Hi friends, I miss you.)
14 January 2008
Mrs. Dr. Eng. Lawyer. Zifta.
Will someone tell me what the hell is up with titles?!
I've come to terms with the whole Dr. situation in the Middle East, that is: if you don't include Dr. before someone who has a PhD's name ur up for some crazy shit.
But lately, Engineers and Lawyers, rather people with engineering a law degrees, YOUNG people with engineering and law degrees have been getting really offended by me not calling them Engineer Zifta and Al-Ostath Zift.
NEWS FLASH: if you work in marketing, I don't care what ur freggin diploma says I'm not calling you "Engineer". Engineer is not a title (neither should most PhD recipients be called Dr. but that's another post for another day) so when I'm talking to you whether in a professional/casual setting I'm not gonna call you Engineer.
Oh and you don't deserve a "kadar" either...7abeebti, just because you did well in high school then felt like you would be compromising your intelligence by getting any other degree than Engineering or Medicine (and we all know Doctor's don't get married) so you chose to study Engineering based on what your "prestige" and society dictate, does not mean you're a freggin' engineer! Capiche!*
Just as a Teacher isn't a teacher unless they actually teach in schools, engineering is a profession and yes for the most part a degree is required BUT your degree doesn't guarantee a title.
* I know at least three girls who made their career decisions in this way. "I'm too good to be with the stupid people in any other major, I want to get married so medical school is out of the question, engineering it is." Then they realize that they don't actually want to do the tough work at their jobs.(these girls are intelligent and can do the work but they "outsourced" their projects during their school years and paid to get them done) So they take desk/administrative/non-engineering jobs then require that they get paid what engineers do and hold the title "engineer".
Of course not all women engineers are stupid as these women are.
I'm off my soapbox now.
I've come to terms with the whole Dr. situation in the Middle East, that is: if you don't include Dr. before someone who has a PhD's name ur up for some crazy shit.
But lately, Engineers and Lawyers, rather people with engineering a law degrees, YOUNG people with engineering and law degrees have been getting really offended by me not calling them Engineer Zifta and Al-Ostath Zift.
NEWS FLASH: if you work in marketing, I don't care what ur freggin diploma says I'm not calling you "Engineer". Engineer is not a title (neither should most PhD recipients be called Dr. but that's another post for another day) so when I'm talking to you whether in a professional/casual setting I'm not gonna call you Engineer.
Oh and you don't deserve a "kadar" either...7abeebti, just because you did well in high school then felt like you would be compromising your intelligence by getting any other degree than Engineering or Medicine (and we all know Doctor's don't get married) so you chose to study Engineering based on what your "prestige" and society dictate, does not mean you're a freggin' engineer! Capiche!*
Just as a Teacher isn't a teacher unless they actually teach in schools, engineering is a profession and yes for the most part a degree is required BUT your degree doesn't guarantee a title.
* I know at least three girls who made their career decisions in this way. "I'm too good to be with the stupid people in any other major, I want to get married so medical school is out of the question, engineering it is." Then they realize that they don't actually want to do the tough work at their jobs.(these girls are intelligent and can do the work but they "outsourced" their projects during their school years and paid to get them done) So they take desk/administrative/non-engineering jobs then require that they get paid what engineers do and hold the title "engineer".
Of course not all women engineers are stupid as these women are.
I'm off my soapbox now.
10 January 2008
If u're happy and u know it: pot, kettle stop fighting!
Notice how I managed to post for awhile now without mentioning Minister of Education Nouriya Al-Sabeeh's grilling.
"My Eye is Cold on Me"--->3aini 3ala Nafsi Barda.
I can't not mention it at all. Today I read طاخ طيخ: يوم مشهود">, Killa Ma6goog's post on the issue, it's great. Read it. It's all I would've said for the most part, only with a clearer head.
I'm not for canonizing Nouriya, nor did I support her just because she's a woman, but the whole interpellation (that's a real world. Blogger's vocabulary is limited.) was silly. MP's are flexing their arms, while the whole government ducks...errr NO. Nouriya called the MP's bluff. "You got nothing! BoooooYa!" (picture Nouriya screaming boooooYa while running and high-fiving ministers....hehehe I'm hilARious!)
My hangups about this whole situation were:
1) I wondered had Nouriya been bedouin, affliated with the conservatives, or shia would the liberals have cared? She's rich, Kuwaiti "bourgeois" and not bedouin. (I understand the situation would be different...but with all things considered if a "decent" minister was challenged by hooligans would they have gotten all up in arms about it ?! I doubt it.)
The other thing that cracked me up was all the ASK students outside the parliament...I graduated from an American school and I KNOW how uninvolved in Kuwaiti politics they are and remain to be...so what was that..?! Oh and the half page advert by the student unions at private universities?!! who paid for that..(that's over $12,000) ??!! (yes, the NUKS-Kuwait's silence was disgraceful but not surprising)
The irony is the same people who call the NUKS-Kuwait branch "politicized" are politicized students themselves. Now pot, quit calling kettle black.
I was/am with Nouriya but you have to wonder.
Back to regular programming: "If you're happy and you know it clap your hands :D"
"My Eye is Cold on Me"--->3aini 3ala Nafsi Barda.
I can't not mention it at all. Today I read طاخ طيخ: يوم مشهود">, Killa Ma6goog's post on the issue, it's great. Read it. It's all I would've said for the most part, only with a clearer head.
I'm not for canonizing Nouriya, nor did I support her just because she's a woman, but the whole interpellation (that's a real world. Blogger's vocabulary is limited.) was silly. MP's are flexing their arms, while the whole government ducks...errr NO. Nouriya called the MP's bluff. "You got nothing! BoooooYa!" (picture Nouriya screaming boooooYa while running and high-fiving ministers....hehehe I'm hilARious!)
My hangups about this whole situation were:
1) I wondered had Nouriya been bedouin, affliated with the conservatives, or shia would the liberals have cared? She's rich, Kuwaiti "bourgeois" and not bedouin. (I understand the situation would be different...but with all things considered if a "decent" minister was challenged by hooligans would they have gotten all up in arms about it ?! I doubt it.)
The other thing that cracked me up was all the ASK students outside the parliament...I graduated from an American school and I KNOW how uninvolved in Kuwaiti politics they are and remain to be...so what was that..?! Oh and the half page advert by the student unions at private universities?!! who paid for that..(that's over $12,000) ??!! (yes, the NUKS-Kuwait's silence was disgraceful but not surprising)
The irony is the same people who call the NUKS-Kuwait branch "politicized" are politicized students themselves. Now pot, quit calling kettle black.
I was/am with Nouriya but you have to wonder.
Back to regular programming: "If you're happy and you know it clap your hands :D"
09 January 2008
ramble # 7487
I'm known to have ridiculous dreams therefore I never believed in dream interpretation or anything of that sort. Examples of crazy dreams:
I'm at my brother's wedding and this annoying girl I know was sitting in the bride's seat. Before my brother comes in I ask her to get out of the bride's seat (there was no bride) insisting that she wasn't my brother's bride. I beat her up at the wedding right before my father and brother "crash" the wedding in ATV's. Creative huh?!
Last night, MP Adel Al-Saraawi...this guy:
yup..that Adel...was my conscience. Now I like Adel, no problem with him whatsoever and I think he's a great politician if there ever was one, but what the hell is he doing being my conscience in my dreams..? I was having a conversation with him--in the dream--and I go...u look like 3adel Al9ar3awi...he replies I am 3adel al9ar3awi...but I knew he was my conscience...
Don't you hate it in dreams when you're in an airplane but you know its your school in the dream...but visually its an airplane..? No. Shut up, I know you do.
In other passing useless thoughts, I get really annoyed at people who assume you're doing something "wrong" whenever you're alone. Like a few years ago I went to a movie on my own, it was during the day I was off of work none of my friends could go and I really wanted to see it, anyway...my sister's friend who saw me leaving the theater alone told her that I was imwa3da but my dude stood me up. I don't know what offended me more that fact that she thought I was imwa3da or the fact that she thought my 9a7ib would ditch me.
Which brings us to today...the weather was really nice in the afternoon so I decided to hang out on a bench outside Soug Sharg as I waited for my friend to show up. Of course every other car that would pass by...I was sitting at the edge of the parking lot so lots of passing cars...would scream something at me. What really got to me was when I got up to head into the mall an older guy goes "ha 7abooba imwa3da..?" Of course, i'm a man-ignoring machine (truly, I amaze myself sometimes) so I didn't react in anyway but he ticked me off.
and yesterday i remembered i have a blog. so now u get to hear all about my interesting life. lucky you!
Oh yeah..and what's up with sales here...I found a cute top today that was "on sale" it used to be 31 KD and now its 29 KD. sale my pinky toe! that's false advertising!
I'm at my brother's wedding and this annoying girl I know was sitting in the bride's seat. Before my brother comes in I ask her to get out of the bride's seat (there was no bride) insisting that she wasn't my brother's bride. I beat her up at the wedding right before my father and brother "crash" the wedding in ATV's. Creative huh?!
Last night, MP Adel Al-Saraawi...this guy:
yup..that Adel...was my conscience. Now I like Adel, no problem with him whatsoever and I think he's a great politician if there ever was one, but what the hell is he doing being my conscience in my dreams..? I was having a conversation with him--in the dream--and I go...u look like 3adel Al9ar3awi...he replies I am 3adel al9ar3awi...but I knew he was my conscience...
Don't you hate it in dreams when you're in an airplane but you know its your school in the dream...but visually its an airplane..? No. Shut up, I know you do.
In other passing useless thoughts, I get really annoyed at people who assume you're doing something "wrong" whenever you're alone. Like a few years ago I went to a movie on my own, it was during the day I was off of work none of my friends could go and I really wanted to see it, anyway...my sister's friend who saw me leaving the theater alone told her that I was imwa3da but my dude stood me up. I don't know what offended me more that fact that she thought I was imwa3da or the fact that she thought my 9a7ib would ditch me.
Which brings us to today...the weather was really nice in the afternoon so I decided to hang out on a bench outside Soug Sharg as I waited for my friend to show up. Of course every other car that would pass by...I was sitting at the edge of the parking lot so lots of passing cars...would scream something at me. What really got to me was when I got up to head into the mall an older guy goes "ha 7abooba imwa3da..?" Of course, i'm a man-ignoring machine (truly, I amaze myself sometimes) so I didn't react in anyway but he ticked me off.
and yesterday i remembered i have a blog. so now u get to hear all about my interesting life. lucky you!
Oh yeah..and what's up with sales here...I found a cute top today that was "on sale" it used to be 31 KD and now its 29 KD. sale my pinky toe! that's false advertising!
07 January 2008
On homesickness.
A friend's brother returned from the U.S. awhile ago but has been suffering severe "reverse culture shock". He's homesick to what he considered "home" for over six years. She keeps asking "How long did it take you to get over it?" I usually just smile, "quite a long time."
I've realized that for me this "homesickness" seems like its always gonna linger.
What is it like? The only metaphor I can come up with is you know how when you have more people riding in car than it can carry. Say you have four people and a car seat with a baby in it in the back seat of a mid-sized sedan (its always a maroon car in my mind for some reason) and you're a backseat passenger who'snot really comfortable but after 20 minutes everyone's gotten somewhat acquainted with the crowded situation. Twenty minutes into your trip the driver decides to make a sharp turn and all the passengers have shifted in their seats so you all have to adjust your positions to try to get comfortable once again. Then 10 minutes later the same thing happens all over, the car's maneuvered in some way that makes the passengers uncomfortable, they adapt their positions just to be moved and uncomfortable again. Does it make sense?
That's what homesickness and "reverse culture shock" is like to me. Moving back to Kuwait becomes like getting into a crowded car. It's never really comfortable but you get situated and settled then one thing changes and its uncomfortable again. To a certain extent its cyclical.
I distinctly remember the few months after I moved back to Kuwait I would only listen to Mohammad Abdou (the singer not the revivalist)'s CD's in the car. (shout out to Bu Noura!)He voice was familiar, his songs made me feel safe; and as crazy at that sounds like in the midst of the chaotic roads full of idiotic drivers he was my security blanket.
Today's lesson: It's not easy coming "home".
I've realized that for me this "homesickness" seems like its always gonna linger.
What is it like? The only metaphor I can come up with is you know how when you have more people riding in car than it can carry. Say you have four people and a car seat with a baby in it in the back seat of a mid-sized sedan (its always a maroon car in my mind for some reason) and you're a backseat passenger who'snot really comfortable but after 20 minutes everyone's gotten somewhat acquainted with the crowded situation. Twenty minutes into your trip the driver decides to make a sharp turn and all the passengers have shifted in their seats so you all have to adjust your positions to try to get comfortable once again. Then 10 minutes later the same thing happens all over, the car's maneuvered in some way that makes the passengers uncomfortable, they adapt their positions just to be moved and uncomfortable again. Does it make sense?
That's what homesickness and "reverse culture shock" is like to me. Moving back to Kuwait becomes like getting into a crowded car. It's never really comfortable but you get situated and settled then one thing changes and its uncomfortable again. To a certain extent its cyclical.
I distinctly remember the few months after I moved back to Kuwait I would only listen to Mohammad Abdou (the singer not the revivalist)'s CD's in the car. (shout out to Bu Noura!)He voice was familiar, his songs made me feel safe; and as crazy at that sounds like in the midst of the chaotic roads full of idiotic drivers he was my security blanket.
Today's lesson: It's not easy coming "home".
02 January 2008
New Year's Resolutions
I forgot to post this earlier sooo here goes:
the 2008 resolutions I'm willing to share with the internets : <>*shut up!*
1) Show up.
2) Say yes to new things.
Because as Woody Allen said "90% of success is just showing up", I hereby commit myself to showing up in 2008.
Showing up will not be negotiable anymore, I will not talk myself out of things. I will not be "too out of it", embarrassed, bored, preoccupied, sick, forgetful, scared to take part in events anymore.
I'll say yes/give some serious thoughts to doing something challenging when sought/I seek out these opportunities.
the 2008 resolutions I'm willing to share with the internets : <
1) Show up.
2) Say yes to new things.
Because as Woody Allen said "90% of success is just showing up", I hereby commit myself to showing up in 2008.
Showing up will not be negotiable anymore, I will not talk myself out of things. I will not be "too out of it", embarrassed, bored, preoccupied, sick, forgetful, scared to take part in events anymore.
I'll say yes/give some serious thoughts to doing something challenging when sought/I seek out these opportunities.
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