NYC is...

…not prettier than Chicago. It’s true. I didn’t know if I was in Little Italy or Share3 El Zamalek, with the stench of trash and bustling vendors bombarding your senses. Yes, it does have culture and it is very diverse, so diverse that I did not meet one New Yorker. When my friends and I bumbled between two locations, we would ask whoever was around where so and so was. Replies to our geographically-lost questions were met with apologetic smiles and foreign accents. Needless to say, we relied on the plentiful cops who were strewn around the city.

I told someone that if you want to go to NYC, you have to know someone there to show you around and take you to the good places. Thankfully, a few of my friends were students in and around the area and I got around fine. However, other people I know wandered aimlessly in the streets. So, know someone who knows their shizz in NYC before you go.

But Chicago is so much prettier! It’s cleaner, more refined and elegant, the people are beautiful, the city itself is beautiful, and it’s so much more romantic than NYC! NYC is fun and bumping for sure, but Chicago? It’s my kinda town. From what I have seen or rather, eaten, NYC’s competitive streak is in its food. I had some good eats over there. And even though Times Square was swarming with filth, being there was overwhelming, flashing screens and all.

If you have a temper, I would not suggest NYC as a relaxing destination. I lost it when I was trying to hail a cab for 45 MINUTES STRAIGHT. I had four heavy shopping bags on me and at the same time was trying to call on a darn taxi to take me back. What really frustrated me was that a lot of the cabs did not have anyone in there! By the tail of the segment, I was literally bouncing from the sidewalk to the middle of the street, yelling “Ayal hais! Ogaf agoolik! Ma3indik a7ad!” and that was met with a Seinfeld-esque “he’s a very bad man” finger shake. When I finally snagged a cab, I started to laugh and tear up, mostly because I was on my feet since ten in the morning and by the time I collapsed on the grimy seat, it was almost seven in the numbing evening.

Finally, congrats to the Reds and kudos to the lovely bloggers I met. I love you? Yes I do!

MP3's...

at 10:59 AM 13 comments

The Universal & Timeless Threat

MP3's...
Royksopp - 49%
The Prodigy - Smack My B!tch Up
MF Doom - Beat 6
Prince - Kiss
Garbage - Stupid Girl

PS I'm leaving for Thanksgiving Break. Ya'll have a lovely week.
PPS Mom, I didn't bump into any car so...it was just a handy example :P (and even though, my insurance would sky-rocket so again, I wasn't in any hit-and-run)

*phew* heh...

at 5:54 AM 19 comments

Interning & the Souring Client

I have to admit, one of the perks that came along with my internship in Kuwait was dealing with the company’s clients. You have the elderly crowd with the genuinely humble Old Kuwaiti feel to them who also tend to stick to less risky (read: mundane) strategies and marketing techniques, and the younger crowd who are more responsive to innovative ideas that are not so hum-drum and repetitive.

The younger crowd is, of course, made up of many dashing lads clad in their crisp dishdashas. Yes, that was a perk in my internship. That surely was.

Once, I accompanied an employee to one certain client I had seen before in the company’s office. He was absurdly handsome, successful (mostly from his daddy’s money), and had Ivy League plastered all along the walls of his new, splendid office.

As soon as we entered the room, I was transfixed by his confidence and good looks. However, something horrific happened: he started to speak.

I honestly believe that I have never in my life have come that close to committing suicide right there on the spot. His confidence turned to arrogance as he shoved away the project at hand and went off tangent to discuss his wonderful horse rides on the mountainous regions in Spain. What was even more suffocating was his lack of humor and humility. My perspiring colleague was grinning at him, robotically nodding and pretending that he was actually being entertained by this monstrous brat. I smiled as well, although I was very close to breaking into a sob because the man did not have one funny cell let alone a bone.

Mr. Void of Character kept looking at me, smiling, and I smiled back courteously even though my facial display came from pitch black pity at this unfunny creature. The poor thing thought that I truly enjoyed his one and a half hour long (yes, I counted the minutes) anecdotes about his superficial lifestyle. The only real smile surfaced when I fantasized about springing up on his polished desk and kneeing him in the face to knock some mature yet comical sense into him. We were soon rescued by his female partner, the actual heart of the company, and finished our business in ten minutes flat.

After the torture session was over, I had a thought: no matter how well-educated, loaded, or gorgeous a man is, if he does not know how to spin a good joke, well, that just shows that he doesn’t have the smarts to do so.

Humor wins. Hands down.

MP3's...
Audio Lotion - Jacuzzi Jazz

AIR - Kelly Watch the Stars

at 11:29 AM 14 comments

21 Years of Age and Still...

MP3's...if they don't work now, try again tomorrow (!)
Len - Steal My Sunshine
The Isley Brothers - It's Your Thing
Pearl Jam - I Can Feel It Coming Back Again

at 6:48 AM 27 comments

My Definitive Chicken Nugget Moment

I interned at a company in Kuwait one Christmas. One day, one of the employees asked me to find the price for something. She handed me a number and after countless draining phone calls, I finally found the person who could fill in the blank.

Me: Aloo, el salam. Law sama7t, momken itgooli 3an si3er X?

Man: Aloo? Mino ma3ay?

Now, after a dozen phone calls, I was conditioned to jump right in and ask for the price sans introductions. Most of the people I talked to gave me another number – usually a cell phone - to call before I got the chance to tell them who I am and who I was working for. In this particular case, I was a little bit embarrassed and that level of awkwardness did not help put my anxious stammer at ease.

Me: Ah, sorry. Ana… (elmoshkela eni moo mowathafa and I didn’t know the word ‘intern’ in Arabic!)…I’m an intern …I’m interning eb sharekat X, oo bes kent ba3aref 3an si3er X because…

Man: You can talk in English if you want.

Right then, between my stuttering and apprehension, I thought, "Damn! I'm doomed!"

at 8:50 AM 13 comments

Terrorist Organizations are Sexist

While drifting of to sleep yesterday, I was thinking that truly, terrorist organizations are sexist, particularly Al Qaeda. We did not ever see any women working with these mongrels. I think that a handful of females can be brainwashed into thinking that Osama Bin Laden, the ultimate trust fund baby and ex-playboy who spent his early adult life frolicking along the Swiss Alps with booze and b!tches at his side, is actually a righteous, well-meaning man who has the right to damn Western nations and their traditions.

If you take away his silly turban, wrinkled gown, and shave off his scraggly beard, Osama is actually not that bad looking. Now imagine a beautiful, dark-haired, wide-eyed Arabian woman by his side. I think that they would reach a celebrity status on the FBI’s Most Wanted list. Think of it more as an Arab paradox of James Bond.

Once they reach that status, all the top-notch designers would scurry to promote their label to Al Qaeda even before the stock hits the runway. Beauty companies would send their staff – those with Middle Eastern origins – to the Afghan caves in hopes of making over and glamorizing the radical group.

Apart from that extra pizzazz, women may even contribute to the aesthetic nature of bombings. In fact, they would not even be called that. ‘Explosions of Life & Color’ might be their new caption. Red, white, yellow, pink and blue hues would decorate our skies, lace our landscape, and will be the last memory of Flight 321.

at 9:13 AM 12 comments