Days Go By...

- I had an awful Friday afternoon. I absentmindedly plugged my beloved iPod into our house's computer, hoping to share my goodies with my brother. My eight hundred something songs were all wiped out; I browsed through my song list only to find the Black Eyed Peas' "My Humps" and one Sinatra song. I called my brother, bawling and sobbing, "Eughhhhehehughh, my…my…they're gooooone." He thought I was being raped from the amount of tears and gasps between my words. When he knew the real reason, he breathed and chuckled, "Erzulie, you have them saved in the U.S. Just wait one month and you'll get them back." That made me cry even more, "One month!? What am I going to listen to in the mamsha!? Auuughhh…" I downloaded Limewire, snagged a couple songs, and ended up slowing down our already sloth-like computer.

- Friday evening was not that bad though. I joined my father on our traditional trip to Souq el Mubarekya. We had tea at an old friend's place and then we went to the main souq. I bought my mom's hated Arabic gum; she abhors it because I chew and crack that thing around the house. I love walking around and picking at different foods; I actually like "yigi6" but I tried "6een 7aawa" for the first time and I ended up spitting it out because it tasted like, well, mud. I grabbed four colorful "chmq" for me and my friends in the states. I must say that I feel a little bit out of place when I go there; tall in jeans, sneakers, and a cotton sweater while everyone is sporting "dishdasha"'s and "abaya." But it felt good and familiar, just the way I remembered it when I was younger except for the renovations that is, which have somewhat detracted from the "cheenko" style of the main shops.

at 4:02 AM 13 comments

Kids, Cupcakes & Mr.Patience

I went to my brother's third grade Christmas party today. Although the nostalgic smell of stuffy lunchboxes and wooden desks still lingered familiarly in the air, the students seem a bit more hip than my wrinkled, eleven year-old class picture. One girl clad in a Juicy Couture flaunted the brand's logo until her friend exclaimed, "Oh wow! Juicy!" Another smug kid pointed to his pants and shirt and told his eager friend, "Yeah, this is Armani and Energie."

I have nothing against these brands; Juicy Couture and Energie are cute and fun and Armani is cool and sleek. But these are eight year olds! When I was that age, I did not have any idea which store my mom bought my clothes from! Okay, I do remember we were big fans of Benetton and Sisley, but I don't remember me or anyone of my classmates showcasing our attire!

But I must say, you guys missed out on the frosted cupcakes and homemade pastries piled up on the two tables. I didn't have any because I had a fabulous lunch waiting for me at home, but the spread sure looked yummy. I feel sorry for the teacher because he ended up ushering happy yet hyper kids from all the sugar.

Speaking of the teach…I have never seen anyone so patient with kids. I love kids and can handle 3-5 of them just fine. But I think the classroom floor would be splattered with blood if I was in charge of those twenty hoodlums. Some children were docile, others were authoritative and bossed the other kids around effectively – a trait the teacher took advantage of – while others were downright annoying. I really admire the guy for taking care of his students' needs. I was watching him as he surveyed the room systematically whilst talking to the child before him and actually listening to what he/she had to say. Bravo Mister, I salute you.

at 1:40 AM 13 comments

So I'm home…

My flight was really tiring. I was stuck with aisle seats on both flights; I was busy guarding my elbows from runaway carts. I sometimes think that flight attendants secretly enjoy it when they see passengers twist in their seats, clutching their throbbing elbows after being hit by the clunky trolleys.

I like Frankfurt airport. They have a lot of chocolate shops which is lovely, and especially appreciated by someone like me. But they do not have any chairs. I ended up circling the damned airport several times before finally giving up; I spread my shawl on the floor and listened to my music collection. Oh yeah, I just bought an iPod (hurrah!) and I was thinking that I'd rather lose my passport than this flat screened device. I loaded almost 1,000 songs. I'm a little apprehensive about ditching my CD player. It has been there for me through ups and downs, literally; I would jog, sprint, throw it across the room and nothing would happen to it. But I simply cannot continue to wince and flinch every time I hear a scratch or a defect during one of my favorite songs.

My family is lovely and doing well. The food is lovely too. I threw a bit of a food tantrum today; we had chicken machboos and my mom had "shabzi" and I simply abhor it. "Erzulie, I didn't know you didn't like it. Let me call the cook and tell her to make daqoos…. Hello? Yes, make daqoos for Erzulie because…Oh, you knew that she didn't like shabzi?" Even our cook knew! I hate that stuff! It smells like rotten henna and it tastes like grass mixed with curry.

I've been fantasizing about Lorenzo's chocolate cheesecake. It's like a piece of heaven. Oh Lorenzo, where art thou. My sister and I sometimes stop by in the afternoon and take a whole cake with us. I remember taking a slice with me upstairs; I engage in an illicit yet ephemeral affair with the divine mass on my plate. Yummy.

I must say the weather is brilliant. I was jogging around today and the breeze was perfect. My mom drove me this morning to get my hippy hair chopped off; I was leaning back in the passenger seat as the wind made my strands dance across the window's open frame…such a lovely change from --20ºC.

PS There will be a lack of music and possibly no music. I might even be a little slow on posting and such. But I'm still here :) I was telling my friend that the three F's (family, friends, and food) will keep me busy for about a month. Also, FastelCrap isn't helping.

at 2:28 AM 16 comments

Chips & Chunks

- Hurrah! I just conquered my last final! My parents are very supportive during these times, especially through text-messages. My father sends me off-beat notes like “Attack exam,” while my dear mother starts off with a sweet “Aywah Erzulie! Edeeloh!” and the latter parts that tend to raise a few eyebrows like, “Yallah Erzulie! 6al3ay il ‘A’ min bala3eemhom.”

- I hate it when people freak me out five minutes before the exam is distributed. A girl sitting beside me turned around and asked me frantically, “Is the chi-rho-iota page in the Book of Kells on folio 34 or 24?!” I knew it was 34, but being the dramatic person I am, I started to hyperventilate while shuffling through the textbook, trying to find the greatest achievement of Hiberno-Saxon art.

- Ever since I was kicked out of my seventh grade religion class for asking my teacher about dinosaurs, I shied away from inquiring about certain aspects in Islam. As a side note, I learned more about the religion in college than in high school, where the professor mapped out grounded historical evidence and laws rather than scare the students with vivid details of eternal torture. Anyway, this has to do with my fear of worms i.e. Scoleciphobia. I’m bothered by the idea of worms feasting on my rotting corpse. Here’s my question: Is cremation forbidden in Islam? I thought it would be pretty neat to be seating in a pretty container like the intricately designed reliquaries of saints.

- I lost a three-week long bet to my friend; I guessed he was 29 years old when he actually turned thirty this year. So now, I have to cook chicken “machboos” and taboula. I hope I don’t kill the guy. This reminds me of bets in Kuwait. This guy is actually making me work for my faulty guess; whenever I’m back home, bets are instantly physical i.e. “Arahnik 3ala kaf/bux."

PS Goldfrap Ft. Depeche Mode - Jesus is my personal trainer >>http://www.djearworm.com/Jesus_is_my_Personal_Trainer.mp3
PPS Rolling Stones - Sympathy for the Devil >> http://www.pressriot.com/lea_esta_semana/articulos/115/The_Rolling_Stones_Sympathy_For_The_Devil.mp3
PPPS Deep Dish Ft. Stevie Nicks - Dreams
http://www.geometria.ru/files/mp3/159/08%20-%20Deep%20Dish%20-%20Dreams.mp3

at 4:24 AM 17 comments

Les Américains

Although I hate to generalize, most Americans my age are very naïve about the world around them; it’s as if they live in a little bubble. Most of my good friends are from India and Latin countries such as Portugal and Brazil – they’re more culture-conscious- and if I do click with some Americans, they tend to be in their late twenties and/or early thirties.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Americans; they’re overly friendly and the ones I met would open up to you during the initial five minutes of your first encounter, pouring their heart out about personal issues such as their troublesome doubt in the divine and/or outright hatred toward Republicans. The comments and questions below are some of the extreme examples I can clearly recall…all the speakers are college students aged 18-21. Courtesy of CNN, a great source for dramatic infotainment.

“Did you ride a camel to school?”
I thought this guy was joking and I was literally waiting for him to say “I’m kidding.” That did not come along. So, I played along. The setting was not the most appropriate time to answer his jaded question seriously and factually.

“Did you have bombs dropping next to your house?”


“Oh so you speak Kuwaitian?”


“Do you wear the head scarf when you’re back home?”


“Does your dad work in the oil business?”


“So, your family already decided who you’re going to marry or something?”


“Kuwait? Is that off of Mexico?”


PS Los Lobos & Antonio Banderas - Cancion Del Mariachi (I dare you to sit still)
PPS DJ Mark Farina - Phone Tap
PPPS Deee-lite - Groove is in the Heart ("Dig!")

at 1:22 AM 46 comments

Dear Brother

Suddenly, tiny spots of lights began to freckle the constantly black view from her window seat. Almost home, she sighed. She made her way to the lavatory to smooth away the fallen, wispy kohl under her dark eyes. After fluffing her limp hair, she looked in the mirror and smiled, remembering how her older brother berated her when her eyes were too smoky. “Erzulie,” he would say, “Why do you put all that junk on your eyes! You look like Nefertiti! Remove some of it before you go out. You don’t even need that much!” She would huff and puff, stamp her feet as she pouted to her mother who would return her complaints with a long stare before nodding to him, acknowledging his righteousness. It was not long before she realized that he wanted the best for her, that his criticisms did not sprout from heartlessness but rather, love itself.

She plopped down in her wrinkled seat, adjusting her modest top. She enjoyed a silent chuckle; whenever she sported jeans and a fitting shirt; her brother would literally stop in his tracks and ask, “Where are you going dressed like that?” She would reply coolly, “To my friend’s house.” He looked at her again with a relaxed, unworried expression, “Ahhh…okay then. If you need me to drive you just call me.” And he was always available and there for her, whether it was a problem concerning school, friends, or even an unexplained blue feeling. Surprisingly, their bond grew even stronger since she departed overseas for school; their jokes were more sarcastic, comments more personal. He would advise her on friends, classes, and mostly, spending habits as he is not too fond of her “I’m broke” text messages.

Standing by the conveyor belt with eyes fixated on the flimsy flaps that popped out a variety of overstuffed bags, she anxiously looked over her shoulder at the sliding doors, in hopes of catching an early glimpse of him. Finally, she pranced excitedly on the arrival’s catwalk, scanning the sea of tanned faces. Her brief quest came to an end; she smiled gleefully as he approached and embraced her caringly. She eagerly bounced by him as he seized her luggage and ushered her protectively between the screeching herd of cars outside. Her enthusiasm simmered down a notch as she observed him carefully heaving her weighty luggage. If royal titles were based on morality and virtue rather than loose inheritance, she thought, he’d surely be King.




PS Fitzgerald - Blue Skies...
PPS Davis - 7 Steps to Heaven

at 7:28 AM 20 comments

Busy Times...

There was only one last picture on my disposable Kodak camera. My Thanksgiving break was over and I was waiting for my boarding time. I simply could not resist but take a picture of these two women. They just looked so colorful with their tropical attire and their startlingly bleached, blonde hair. I wanted to get a closer shot but I thought that it will be too obvious.
Finals are coming up. Excuse my short post…Take care all.

PS Motorcycle - As The Rush Comes
PPS Modjo - Chillin'
PPPS Kosheen - Hungry

at 6:46 AM 11 comments

Verbal Typos

Last semester in my communications class, we had an icebreaker session for the first week. We were arranged in a circle and were told to share one of our scariest experiences. I do not know why I chose this particular event but, well, I did. When it was my turn, I told the class about my horrific, jellyfish incident since I abhor any creature that squishes when you apply pressure on its frame.

I started to recount my seaside happening where I stepped on a huge, jellyfish lounging on the shore. Of course, I did not know that the darn thing was dead, and as usual, I freaked out and forcefully shuffled my soles on the prickly sand. I then further articulated, “And I mean, I felt the spongy testicles between my toes! It was horrible…horrible.” Some people looked at my curiously while others detected my error and smirked sheepishly in response. The professor grinned, obviously embarrassed for me. “Erzulie [Holy potatoes! I was about to put my real name here!] You mean tentacles…not testicles.” That memory still haunts me; my classmates still have that knowing, silly look on their face when I see them on campus. Talk about a recurrent cringe.

PS Kosheen - Hide You
PPS Dick Dale & His Deltones - Misirlou
PPS Salt 'n' Pepa - Push It

at 12:08 AM 21 comments

Chips & Chunks

-How can people eat Twizzlers?!? It’s like flavored plastic! And still, I see many chewing on the damned things.

- It was so cold yesterday that I literally smacked my face because I didn’t want my cheeks to fall off.


- I hate buses. They manage to squeeze in between cars and they always get their way! I tend to honk when they slyly attempt to cram themselves in front of me; sometimes I let them through – because I have no choice- only to see them tread a few meters before stopping at the next block. I yell at them “Yal Bus!” as if it’s an insult. Then I mutter to myself, “Sij bus.” I hate buses.

- There is a cluster of Indians living on the 10th floor of my building. Every Friday, they seize the party room, invite hundreds of relatives and friends, and feast on deliciously seasoned home cooked meals. The crappy thing is that the party room is right next to the gym, so the yummy aroma of spices taunts me as I groggily jog my burgers and buns away.

- It’s almost time to go back home. I don’t know if I’m the only one who does this but a few days prior to my arrival, my dear mother calls and asks me what I want to eat for dinner. At first, I gleefully request the usual – grape leaves, salad – but then my requests turn into fiery instructions, “Mamy, I want your salad dressing…and tell Baba to bring Kanafani…no no, the soft one…okay…good…”

PS Goldfrapp - Lovely Head
PPS Blue Foundation - End of the Day

at 1:15 AM 19 comments