Exams...

Exam
Egg-jam
Jam & Eggs
*Yuck*
Hmph.
Coffee?
Sure.
Caffeine.
Natural high.
Caffeine abuse.
Dark circles.
Altoids.
Mint nausea.
*Cringe*
Water.
Sleep, where art thou?


PS's...
Delerium ft. Sarah McLachlan (Tiesto Mix) - Silence
Basement Jaxx - Romeo
Rachel Starr - Til There Was You
Maz Jobrani (Comedy) - Clip

at 5:15 AM 10 comments

Dave Barry's 16 Things...

16 THINGS THAT IT TOOK ME OVER 50 YEARS TO LEARN
by Dave Barry, Nationally Syndicated Columnist


1. Never, under any circumstances, take a sleeping pill and a laxative on the same night.


2. If you had to identify, in one word, the reason why the human race has not achieved, and never will achieve, its full potential, that word would be "meetings."


3. There is a very fine line between "hobby" and "mental illness."


4. People who want to share their religious views with you almost never want you to share yours with them.


5. You should not confuse your career with your life.


6. Nobody cares if you can't dance well. Just get up and dance.


7. Never lick a steak knife.


8. The most destructive force in the universe is gossip.


9. You will never find anybody who can give you a clear and compelling reason why we observe daylight savings time.


10. You should never say anything to a woman that even remotely suggests that you think she's pregnant unless you can see an actual baby emerging from her at that moment.


11. There comes a time when you should stop expecting other people to make a big deal about your birthday. That time is age eleven.


12. The one thing that unites all human beings, regardless of age, gender, religion, economic status or ethnic background, is that, deep down inside, we ALL believe that we are above average drivers.


13. A person, who is nice to you, but rude to a waiter, is not a nice person (This is very important. Pay attention. It never fails.)


14. Your friends love you anyway.


15. Never be afraid to try something new. Remember that a lone amateur built the Ark. A large group of professionals built the Titanic.


16. Thought for the day: Men are like fine wine.. They start out as grapes, and it's up to the women to stomp the crap out of them until they turn into something acceptable to have dinner with.


FINAL THOUGHT FOR THE DAY:

There is more money being spent on breast implants and Viagra than on
Alzheimer's research. This means that by 2030, there should be a
large elderly population with perky boobs and huge erections and
absolutely no recollection of what to do with them.


PS's...
Fila Brazilia - Furball Shindig
Jose Zamora & Damian DP - Transatlantic
Mint Royale - My Heart is Beating Fast

at 6:25 AM 14 comments

Water Water Everywhere...

“3afya gomay `3ayreelah,” her weary mother said.
The young woman stood up and lifted her chubby brother from his playpen. After walking bouncily to the bathroom, she carefully laid the young one on the dressing table before reaching for a fresh diaper.
He was sprawled out half-naked on the plastic surface, gurgling away. Suddenly, she felt drops of water on her head. She looked up at the low ceiling, trying to find the source of the droplets. Her eyes widened as she looked at her smiling brother, peeing away into the air.
“Yoma! Ga3id ebool 3alay!” she exclaimed.
Her mother barged in only to find her bewildered daughter holding the diaper against the stream of pee, “Wee! Maskeen lail7een ma bal!”
The air of confusion and surprise was interrupted by her brother’s gleeful laughter. She smiled as she wiped him off before propping him on the table, “I’m going to remind you of this when you grow up you yal kalb.”
His dimpled smile was still on his rosy face; she scooped him up and plopped him back into his pen.


Rusty PS's...
- The Kingsmen - Louie Louie
- The Vogues - Five O'Clock World
- Tyrone Davis - Turn Back the Hands of Time
- The Monkees - Apples, Bananas, Peaches, and Pears
- Roy Orbison - Pretty Woman
- Bill Withers - Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone
- The Apostles - Six Pack
- Wilson Pickett - Midnight Hour

at 10:28 AM 8 comments

Chips & Chunks

- I’m enrolled in a “Career Building” class and one day, our professor told us to exchange our resumes with the person sitting beside us. I gladly gave the young woman seated by me my paper. My jaw dropped when I saw how many internships she managed to shove in her bag. I started feeling light-headed, thinking about the summers I spent in school, cramming as much classes as I can take so I could graduate a semester early when I could’ve been out there, gaining real-life experience in my field. Ah well, coulda woulda shoulda…

- There’s this Greek restaurant I’ve been eyeing ever since I moved to my new place. It’s really close to my apartment but I’ve never seen anyone inside during the day. However, at night –and in the wee hours of the morning- I can clearly hear drunken laughter and yelling, not to mention a few cuss words here and there. Still curious, I sampled their menu the other day – a typical order of one gyro and soggy fries. After two bites, I figured out that their inebriated customers are only there for the restaurant’s 4 a.m. closing time and not their armpit tasting gyros. Yekh.

- Living alone leads to talking to oneself more often than normal. Living in a place where no one understands Arabic gives one a leeway to verbally explore the intricate world of cussing in Arabic, most likely while driving. I just have one question for people who have experience in Arabic cuss words and possess the knowledge to track down the roots of foul phrases and words. Here’s my question: Why is it “Kalb bin sita3ash”? Why is it specifically “sita3ash”? Why not “Khamseen?” I mean the higher the number, the more ancestors you insult, no? I’m serious. What’s the significance of 16? I do not mean to offend anyone but I am very curious about the numerical significance. Hell, I even asked my mom but she didn’t know either!


PS Timo Maas - Big Chevy
PPS Tosca - Damentag
PPPS Jackson & his computer band - Utopia
PPPPS 7tenths, this one's for you :P The Wiz Trailer

at 11:15 PM 8 comments

The Game

“Yallah…ta3alay gi3day…” her older sister called.
With one hand on her hip, the young woman stood proudly in the middle of their chalet’s living room, her university’s sweater clamped over her faded Winnie the Pooh-ed pajama pants from Al-Mo3alem. “Shofaw,” she threatened, “etha ga6aitaw il warag mara7 al3ab ma3akom khair shar.”
Her father shifted his weight on the coach, “La yallah mara7 ingi6 il warag.”
With that, she arrogantly snagged a chair and faced her opponents.
“6a3 shlon takhbe9! A9abe3ha imfarega!” her sister mocked her, slapping her limp fingers together as if shuffling the cards.
The youngest player smiled playfully as she handed the cards out.
Game after game, the riotous sisters demanded to see how many cards their father hid, “Ana adree feeee! Qashash! Tathkereen hatheek il mara khash sab3a bidal thalatha oo ma36eena il awrag il khaysa!” her sister’s high-pitched voice echoed in the room.
The game ended, and miraculously, she won the game. It was the first time she managed to kick out two people at once; both her father and sister failed to claim any ‘akla.’
“Yomaaaaaaaaaaa! Yoma 6ala3t’hom! This is revolutionary!” the young woman bounded towards the dining table where her mother was tossing the salad.
“La chathaba…bes 6ale3at ikhit’ha,” her father teased her, reclining back in his seat.
“Yoba!”

Ladies & gents, I give you the wonderful game of “Embayat” i.e. “6alab.”





PS Thievery Corporation - Warning Shots
PPS Luka Oliviere Project ft. Vampire Depeche Mode - Enjoy the Silence
PPPS The Shins - New Slang
PPPPS Alanis Morissette - You Oughta Know
PPPPPS Mint Royale - Little Words

at 6:10 AM 9 comments

Kinder Love

at 3:41 AM 9 comments

Chips & Chunks

- I think my alarm clock hates me. I never press or tap the ‘Snooze’ button. I always smack, slap, hit, whack, and swat the thing. Now, I have to strike it even harder from all the blows that came its way. I decided to stop this technological abuse by placing the annoying device across the room, on my dresser. After waking up and limping across the cold room to turn the damn thing off, I rarely find myself plopping on my wrinkled, warm bed to get that fulfilling five minutes of extra sleep.

- My retired neighbor is the sweetest little old lady I’ve met. Apart from her collection of straw hats and fat cat, there’s nothing sinister about the woman. However, her cooking drives me up the wall. Whenever the elevator doors open, I get a whiff of her dishes; the scrumptious main meal complimented with a hint of garlic and oregano or the sweet and hot apple pie. I have two choices: I could kidnap her and chain her to my kitchen floor or I could barge into her place and invite myself over.

- There’s a new Kuwaiti group here. All guys. All hairy freshmen. I don’t run into them on a daily basis; the only time I see them is when I walk to my second period class. They would be stationed at their before-noon hangout, standing in a loud circle. Once however, I was a bit late for class. The Kuwaiti mob was not at the stairs as usual; they were walking together in a sidewalk-hoarding line. Since I haven’t officially met them, they do not know that I’m Kuwaiti. They sauntered by and their reeking cologne was interrupted by a couple of the boys, “Okkkhhh…6a3 6a3…Chayek…” I enjoyed my oblivious state and smirked as they past by, thinking of other times where I would involuntarily eavesdrop on their tidbits. My dear brother, however, was concerned, “La may9eer. Wetha galaw shay mo7rij? La may9eer...talk on the phone or something so they know who you are.” Oh well, so much for my disguise!


PS DJ Shadow - The Number Song [Cut Chemist Party Mix]

PPS Massive Attack - Blue Lines

PPPS Telepopmusik - Stop Running Away

at 9:12 AM 17 comments

Dance Like No One's Watching

“I promise, you can dance with us next time,” and with that, her curly-haired sister bounced up and assumed her position between her two impatient cousins.
The young girl sulked on the white couches, watching the older girls practice their choreographed dance while wearing their treasured shirts that displayed the beloved bands’ youthful faces.
After spending time floundering around in her grandmother’s guest room, she looked at the dancing threesome consumed with their intricately synchronized leg movements.
I can dance better than them, she thought before leaving the musical scene.
She entered her grandmother’s empty bedroom; the band’s music was faint but she can still hear the popish beat. She faced the mirror, determined to outperform the others. With that, she began to wave her gangly arms as she jumped about, shaking her stringy, sun kissed hair.
“Ha! Chakainach!”
She whipped her head around only to find her smiling mother standing near the doorway.
“Yomaaa!” she cried through blushing cheeks.
“Yallah rig9ilena rag9a! Laish wegaftay!” Her mother insisted, her face glowing.
“Mabi!”
Her mother laughed whole-heartedly as her daughter threw herself into her arms.

********


PS To my sister and her once beloved band.

PPS To my dear mother, who caught me dancing more than once.

at 9:40 AM 8 comments

Irksome Thingis

Two things have been bugging me lately.
The first one is pretty recent and occurs on a weekly if not daily basis.
I do not understand why I get chain-mail letters from my closest friends that have closing lines like “If you do not send this to 100 people, you’ll die in five days.” I mean why? I know that some people are superstitious and would rather send it to the number of people stated in the hateful email, but why anchor down your loved ones with this ridiculous and rather malicious email? Thank goodness for the subject line…delete those absurdities.

I chatted with my friend about the other bothersome issue that has been on my mind ever since I left Kuwait. I was in our district’s supermarket when I overheard a 30-something year old mother talk to her son who was still in his single-digits, “3abooooodi, what you want from here? Yallah pick what you want.”
I have noticed that a lot of young kids nowadays talk solely in English. Now, don’t get me wrong; I think it’s a must to master the English language, especially in our globalized world. But that does not mean you should disregard your mother tongue altogether.
Whenever I pick up my little brother from school, I hear a few parents uttering phrases in broken English while their young ones respond in a crisp American accent. I remember talking to my friend’s eleven year-old nephew, asking him about school and such. His response was a long, confused stare. “He doesn’t speak Arabic Erzulie,” my friend quietly said.
What gives? Am I the only one noticing this trend?

PS Pink Floyd - Hey You

at 12:48 AM 9 comments