Hasta La Victoria Siempre...in Kuwait

2007-02-25T23:28:00.000+03:00

Maki Madness

I have a friend visiting from the US who loved eating at Maki. So, we decided to eat at this Japanese restaurant (this does not take away from any Edo pride I have). Both of us did not know where Maki restaurant was located, as it had been a while since she returned from the states, and as I had never eaten there.

Both of us had only one meal hours earlier that day.

So Chica calls her friend and I call mine. Her friend tells us that its located at Marina Waves. When she tells me, I say…"Don’t you mean Marina Crescent?” I had never heard of Marina Waves. She hadn’t either.

And so began a long night.

As it was still vacation for many in Kuwait, we made our way to Marina mall. I’m usually the one that parks at the end of the world and walks to wherever I am going, simply because I think it’s faster to get back to the car. High heels are a rarity for me to wear because of this. But she drove and so, she opted for valet.

It didn’t matter who drove, though, because it was the blind leading the blind.

We got out of the car into the main section of the mall, and walked on the over-ground bridge to Marina Crescent.

Chica: So this is Marina Waves. It’s here somewhere.

Me: Ummm..no it’s not. It’s Marina Crescent. But isn’t it here?

Chica: Let’s ask a security guard where Maki is.

So we talk to a security guard who tells us that we could potentially walk to it, if it was not so cold outside. He pointed outside to a large, lit building. Or at least, we thought he did.

We decide to brave the cold and walk to Maki. We make our way through, bumping into many people as Crescent is packed. We then begin to walk to something that says “Marina…” After about 10 or 15 minutes, we get there, and ask where Maki is, our noses red with cold.

Guy in uniform: You ladies are now are Marina Hotel. Maki is in Marina Waves.

He takes us out and points to another building that looks like a boat.

Oh. So THAT’S Marina Waves. I need to get out more.

We were equidistant from Marina Mall and Marina Waves, so we decide to brave the 0 degree weather once more and walk to Marina Waves.

My chica friend and I were wearing “indoor clothes”…a light jacket and pants, totally unprepared for the weather. But we were hungry.

After what felt like 20 minutes, we got there. We walk in and are greeted with smiles from the waiter.

“Welcome to Maki. Do you have a reservation?”

Us: Umm no. This was a last minute kinda thing.

Waiter: Oh. Well, we can’t seat you without a reservation.

Us (At this point, we are so hungry and cold that our stomachs started talking. I think we tried for the “pity” angle, out of desperation): We walked here from Marina.

Waiter: Where are you guys from?

Us: Kuwait.

Waiter: And you walked? You mean you drove here.

Us: No, we walked.

We got a table.

2007-01-08T15:07:00.000+03:00

Child's Play

You know there are small children living in your house when:

* You exit your bedroom to find that the living room walls have been covered with crayon-drawn stick figures.

* The children’s play area / living room becomes a zone of toy landmines: step on one and you will lose your leg…well…you might get a twisted ankle at least.

* You must fight the urge to destroy toys that emit sounds.

* You know all the words to the latest cartoon / animated movie they are addicted to. And the lyrics to all the songs. And the names of the characters in that movie. And in the sequel, too.

* You begin to mimic their higher octave intonation.

* You always spell out the following words: “CAKE,” “SWEET,” and “CHOCOLATE” out of fear that if you actually SAY the words, the children will bust out into a frenetic dance, similar to a mix between a tribal dance and a voodoo summoning. Eye rolling and screamed praises included.

...But you love ‘em anyway : )

2007-01-02T08:40:00.000+03:00

2007…a year for equilibrium.

I’m really not big on resolutions for the New Year, mostly because I tend to forget them mid-January. Perhaps if I write mine here, though, I may actually remember it…

This year, my resolution is BALANCE.

I tend to flit from one extreme to another (not necessarily in my arguments, but in my life experiences) and then exhaust myself. I certainly have fun while doing so (let your imagine take you where it may), but it doesn’t necessarily mean that it is the best way to go about things.

The best thing about balancing one’s life (work, family, friends, etc) is that – here is a shout-out to all the OCD-ers in the joint) – one needs to organize. I can’t wait to make / buy the perfect 2007 day planner.

Hm. Perhaps I'm using the solution of one extreme tendency to enable another.

2006-10-26T17:12:00.000+03:00

Guilty Pleasure.

Holidays change their meanings (as we understand them) as time goes by. In the same way that Christmas differs when you are 5 or 15 or 25 years old, Eid takes on a new meaning as each year passes.

I’d like to take you all back to a time when we thought the world revolved around toys, candy, and cartoons, when we were all children and a piece of ridiculously priced plastic could make us deliriously happy.

The Eid I will never forget occurred in the late 80s. I thought that I had won the lottery. As we pulled in front of “Kid’s R Us” (now called “Toys R Us”), I could barely contain my excitement.

What did I buy?

The Barbie Dreamhouse, baby.

Although my personal views on Barbie have changed drastically, I still savor this memory and what buying it had meant to me: I felt in charge, purchasing something from “my own” money, and I enjoyed it completely.

What is one of your favorite Eid memories as a child?

2006-10-13T17:45:00.000+03:00

Ladies night.

(continuing notes from my travels)

My 7 friends and I had planned to take a road trip to a northern city, about 4 and a half hours away. This trip had been planned for weeks. We were to leave Saturday at 12 noon on the dot…but then again, with 8 girls in one van, anything can happen…

12 NOON

No-one has shown up at the meeting spot. Everyone is late. *sigh*. Females.

2:00PM

And we are off! We leave, backing up the van slowly. We then hear a * crack * ! Hm. Somehow, the driver’s side window got off its track. We needed to realign it. But we proceed onward anyway, without repairing it.

2:01 PM

We begin to eat some deli sandwiches for lunch.

2:09 PM

We stop for gasoline. The driver’s side window is falling down halfway inside the car. We decide to go back to the house to fix it.

2:15 PM

One of the girl’s crown (of her tooth) broke as a result of the toasted chewy bread of the deli sandwiches. She wants to cement the tooth back together, and refuses to continue until she does so.

2:16 PM

Thankfully, we have a dentist amongst us. She volunteers to help cracked-tooth girl with the cementing. Cracked-tooth girl refuses, saying that her dentist already showed her how to do it. We remind cracked-tooth girl that the other chica IS a DENTIST.

2:21 PM

As we exit the vehicle in order to get some fresh air / cement / etc, one girl hits her head on the inside top of the car. She needs some ice on it.

3:00 PM

AND…We are off again. The window is fixed, but we have duct tape on standby.

Now, this all happened in one hour. We had several other mini-disasters, but I won’t make this long. I simply wanted to let you know that if you are traveling with a gaggle of girls, be ready for ANYTHING.

I recommend (in NO order of importance):

A large, fully loaded first-aid kit (with an ice pack, scissors and tweezers)
Flashlight
Duct Tape
Granola Bars
Water
Sewing kit (with safety pins)
Swiss Army Knife
A tube of aloe vera and / or petroleum jelly
Toilet paper and / or Kleenex
Blanket and / or towels

Did I miss anything? Or is there anything else you think necessary to add?

2006-10-11T13:14:00.000+03:00

Ramadan Breath

I have always been the chica with the chewing gum…After meals, I bust out the peppermint / spearmint / cinnamon flavored goodness. It's such a clean and refreshing feeling when you are not near the toothbrush.

Why? Because I am paranoid about bad breath…And not necessarily just my own.

So I am sure that you can imagine that dealing with this apprehensiveness / awareness / anxiety of mine during Ramadan is not so pleasant.

Recently, I went out and about before iftar with a friend of mine. She and I got into an elevator with two other girls and three guys. As it was a larger sized elevator, I was at least one foot away from everyone else.

Then…the smell came and attacked me in the face. It was a unilateral invasion through the nostrils into my olfactory system.

Oh…the stench of bad breath…this time (thankfully) not my own. It was like a rotting carcass that had been left to sit out in the sun. I think my eyes even watered a bit.

I know Ramadan is a difficult time, and we must be understanding.

But “good breath” is definitely a Ramadan casualty.

Rest in Peace, Good Breath. We will all soon be reunited.

2006-10-02T11:34:00.000+03:00

Road Tripping

Part II: Getting Back-> 10 hours

(Continuing notes from my vacation)

Dedicated to the doomed turtle

(not the actual turtle)

9:30 AM

Begin my road trip. It’s raining. Again.

9:48 AM

I see a bumper sticker: “Hang up and Drive.” We need that in Kuwait.

10:16 AM

I see a doomed turtle crossing the highway.

10:48 AM

There is a car with a license plate that reads “ECOWORLD.” Hmm...a biologically-friendly sticker located on an SUV. How ironic that a gas guzzler would try to campaign for a cleaner and environmentally sound world.

11:15 AM

Bumper sticker time again: “Who Would Jesus Bomb?” (playing off WWJD).

12:57 PM

I find a Spanish Language radio station. Um. I thought I was going NORTH. For a brief moment I reassure myself that I am NOT headed towards Mexico.

2:32 PM

I wonder what it means when a sign says “Speed Limit Enforced by Aircraft.” What kind of aircraft? Is it THIS , a chopper perhaps equipped with some sort of weapon to gun down my car if I go 80 mph?

3:17 PM

It’s raining really hard now. I pull over and paint my fingernails black.

3:49 PM

On the radio, two girls sing an anti-smoking song. I wonder how that would go down in Kuwait.

4:07 PM

Listening to NPR , I am informed that I am technically driving through a tropical storm. I wasn’t kidding about the rain . Visibility: Nil.

5:57 PM

As I am getting gas, I see a van full of bickering children piss off their dad, who screams inside opened door of the van, “I’m the one out here fu**ing getting wet!”. Ah. The kids must have broken him. Gotta love the family vacations.

7:30 PM

I finally arrive.

Drinks consumed:

1 Diet Mountain Dew

1 “Hair of the Dog” Energy drink

1 Sugar-free Red Bull

Songs that I couldn’t help but sing aloud to:

Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me”

Aerosmith’s “Love in an Elevator”

The song "Love in an Elevator" was based on an incident which occurred with Steven Tyler in a southern hotel, where he was caught with two girls in mid-clinch. He said about it "The doors open up in the lobby and we're on the floor. It was a millennium waiting for that door to close." (from Wikipedia)

AC / DC’s “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap”

2006-09-23T13:52:00.000+03:00

Road Tripping

Part I: Going there -> 9 hours

(Continuing notes from my vacation)

8:00 AM

Begin my road trip. Thank goodness the rental car has unlimited mileage. I have 500 miles to face…in a rainstorm.

8:50 AM

Stop for gas. I must pay cash inside BEFORE I pump gas. The recommended amount is 50 dollars. $50 dollars for petrol? I think through the course of this trip, it may have been cheaper to buy a plane ticket. I asked the lady behind the counter for 2 lighters…and then she CARDS me, For lighters? Strange.

8:55 AM

Wow. The US sure is green.

11:30 AM

A bumper sticker on a car in front of me reads, “Vote YES for marriage.” I think, “Whoa. A same-sex marriage activist in this part of the country? Cool.” My eyes wander to the car’s other bumper sticker: “Bush-Cheney.” Oh. I guess I was wrong about the whole “liberal” thing.

11:43 AM

I flip up my turn signal and the windshield wipers start going off.. I still need to get used to the car.

12:27 PM

Two semis are on either side of me. I feel like the guys in the mini cooper in the movie The 51^st State .

1:42 PM

I stop at a gas station near a Pentacostal church. I am waved at by a man that looks like a mix between the pimpin’ Snoop Dogg and James Brown in the Blues Brothers. I wave back.

2:00 PM

The accelerator is creaking.

2:01 PM

I notice a semi-truck’s grill in my rear view mirror. He snuck up on me while I was writing about the accelerator. Time to concentrate on the road.

2:24 PM

I start to take pictures of funny signs.

3:03 PM

I find Djarum Specials. Sweet.

4:13 PM

Every radio station does not work…Ezcept for the country stations. Have I entered the Twilight Zone?

4:16 PM

I get a radio station. It’s a Christian channel. I guess I passed into the Bible Belt. Bible Belt, Twilight Zone, same thing.

4:39 PM

More proof I am in the Bible Belt: I see a lisence plate that reads ACTS 1:8.

4:59 PM

I am listening to the “Weather Watch” broadcast on the radio. The announcer says, “It’s not a good day to drive.” Thanks for the heads up, dude.

5:10 PM

I arrive.

Drinks consumed:

1 20 Ounce Diet Mountain Dew

1 20 Ounce Vault Zero Energy Drink

1 16 Ounce Sobe No Fear Energy Supplement (Sugar Free)

2 16 Ounce Diet Rock Star

2006-09-13T22:17:00.000+03:00

The Usual Suspects II

Airport Edition

As many of you have known / guessed, I have been on vacation. * BUT * I’m back now, with more stories to share.

Let us begin at the beginning, shall we?

When traipsing the globe, one finds him / herself in many different kinds of airports. After a while, all of the airports start to look the same…as do the people.

As I was in transit for 6 + hours at the airport, I began noticing that there are “usual suspects” in airports as well...

1. The B1+CH / B@$+@RD who butts ahead of you in line, acting like they own the airport (if they did, they would not even have to be IN a line). When the B / B shows up, it’s time for a confrontation.

2. The HARRIED MOTHER with bags under her eyes, carting around 5 or more children. This woman may explode at a moment’s notice. Avoid her if you can.

3. The STARE-ERS. Self-explanatory. If seated next to them on a plane, they may become GROPERS.

4. The BUSINESSMEN…those busybodies, flying from one end of the world to another (then again, does the Earthly sphere HAVE “ends”?). The BUSINESSMEN are usually superbly coiffed, well dressed, and neatly…manicured. Adorable metros . Since I have never stepped into a men’s restroom, I wonder if they are MIRROR HOGS* (*see below)

5. The COUPLE: Older or younger, they seem to be buddy-buddy when it comes to traveling. It’s quite cute…Unless there are children who are involved in the equation. Then, the couple is usually not talking to one another and / or tag teaming with screaming at the children. *See HARRIED MOTHER.

6. The HOT GUY / CHICK (whatever is your flavor) in the corner. You nonchalantly sit next to him / her, waiting for your chance to strike up a conversation. Until his / her significant other comes over. Then you may resort to being a STARE-ER.

7. The MIRROR HOG: That lady hogging the mirror in the women’s bathroom. I need to wash my hands more than you need to apply Evian spray to your face, lady. This suspect is no longer prominent, as there is a new rule of “no liquids” on the airplanes. A silver lining, perhaps?

8. The BAG-PACKER: With hiking boots and bag pack in tow, this person looks lost in a confined setting. They either need a map, or have a map clutched in their hands, as maps are extremely useful navigation devices when in the great outdoors. The BAG-PACKER is also able to sleep in the strangest positions. Like vertically.

9. The LOST CHILD. Alas, it happens. Ths is where I LIKE the PA system. (Although I’m not a fan of screaming kids, I do have a heart).

10. The AIRPORT EMPLOYEE, who has heard “Do you accept American Dollars / Euros / British Pounds?” too many times and answers like an autobot . I mean, decepticon .

11. The LONE RANGER: My preferred method of travel. It’s just me, my passport, my mistakes, and my experiences. Always the most interesting, ironically.

12. The DRUNK DUDE…I’d love to be unisex about this, but I have yet to see a drunk chick. The DRUNK DUDE can be found at bars, at the duty-free store in the liquor area…or next to you on the plane. If the latter is the case, I recommend vicodin. For you.

13. The FASHIONISTA: Man, I know I’m getting old when this chick bothers me. She wears INAPPROPRIATE travel attire. All eyes are on her. There is too much skin (jiggly boobalidge), too tall boots (why aren’t THOSE considered weapons at the airport??), large hair (I love the 80s), and a face which looks like a make-up counter exploded on it. There is a time and place for this outfit, but the airport is NOT that place. This person can also be a MIRROR HOG / ATTENTION WHORE.

14. The OBVIOUSLY-A-TOURIST who wears a fanny pack, a passport holder that goes around the neck, a multi-colored button-up shirt, and sneakers. This person is going to BUY OUT duty-free.

Aside from those present at the airport, I found something missing as well: Where are the FEMALE PILOTS???

Who have I missed?

2006-08-22T23:21:00.000+03:00

Sometimes, the best way to say things…

I don’t usually do this, but then again there are exceptions to most rules.

Please visit Raf*’s site. He [and mana] really say it best.

2006-08-11T20:31:00.000+03:00

Silent But Deadly

The weather has recently gone from it’s-hotter-than-Hades to why-do-I-feel-so sticky-wet-and-it’s-not-raining?

It is the evil of humidity that has descended upon Kuwait.

Humidity does many things to humans once the bodies exit their haven of air conditioning. In order of occurrence:

1) Your hair turns into its best impression of Bob Marley or “Monica” in Barbados. I’m sure this must be the true reason for all the spikey-haired boys in Marina Mall. Humidity is nature’s ammonia in its successful efforts to perm your hair.

2) Your makeup melts off. I’m picturing the scene in the “Wizard of Oz”, where the witch says, “I’m melting! Melting! Oh, what a world, what a world…” . Yeah. Literally, not cool.

3) Your deodorant and antiperspirant (yes, you should never buy one or the other, buy a deodorant [so you smell nice] - antiperspirant [so you don’t sweat] in one) cops out and fails. At about 38 degrees Celsius (100 degrees Fahrenheit), your D / A stops working We need to find an industrial strength D /A that can handle the 55 C of Kuwait.

4) You begin to feel sticky. At this time, the cloud of air conditioning that had surrounded you as you left the cool building has evaporated. Run, do not walk, to your nearest destination.

5) This is where things begin to turn ugly. The humidity puts on an all-out attack, invading your orifices and causing you to gasp for air as it penetrates your windpipe and chokes you…must…reach…car…in time…before…complete ...collapse. The invasion continues relentlessly.

6) Finally, the heat hits you, becoming a double whammy as it joins forces with the humidity. There is no escape.

Once you have reached your destination, you look like a wet Diana Ross after a long night of partying. This is not as fabulous as you may think it looks.

Any tips on how to beat the …humidity?

2006-07-30T11:33:00.000+03:00

Victory Belongs to the Most Persevering

Napoleon Bonaparte

Being short is tough. As a person under 160 cm, one feels as though one must compensate for his or her height…or lack thereof, rather.

I find that creativity will lead to all sorts of solutions to problems suffered by those of us who lack reach. A practical example of being creative took place at work the other day…

My workplace has a storage room with high shelves. Wouldn’t you know it, but the one supply I needed was on the TOP shelf…Oh so far out of reach, But impossible? Never!

This is where the “creativity” comes in: Using several boxes as stepstools, I climbed up to a shelf that was waist-high and was reaching towards the top shelf to retrieve my good. I could almost touch it….

At this moment I would like to *pause* and mention that I was wearing a skirt that day.

Now, *unpause*.

Enter: A coworker, who opens the door with a squeal after finding a human being teetering on the edge of a shelf…about 90cm (~3 feet) up in the air. I’m sure she had a great view with the flare skirt I was wearing. I’m sure I looked completely professional *cough*.

After she got over the shock, she turned around red-faced and sped out of the small supply room.

I gathered what was left of my pride, swore that I would never climb those shelves in a skirt again, and took my supply out of its place…success!

Impossible is a word to be found only in the dictionary of fools. Napoleon Bonaparte.

2006-07-27T11:15:00.000+03:00

Flip a Bi+ch

(click on title and see definitions 2 and 4)

With respect to each of our personalities, we get grumpy at certain times:

- In the morning

- Being interrupted in the middle of a nap

- Before a big project is due at work

For myself, I tend to get grumpy before I eat. After many years of…living with…myself, I learned it is best to stay QUIET in those hungry moments before the food is served, lest I bite off someone’s head off instead and wind up shooting myself in the foot.

Thus, before mealtime, family and / or friends do not talk too much, nor I do volunteer any information. If I do so, I would sound like a crotchety old demoness that was caught in a blizzard.

This image beautifully mirrors a favorite saying of mine: "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."...It is also dangerous to one's body, mind, and soul to get between a woman and her food.

I was picking up some food at a favorite restaurant for a late lunch. My blood sugar had dropped and I could no longer maintain any form of civility.

As I U- turned (flipped a [legal] bi+ch) into the road, a man in a car behind me flashed his lights at me. He then proceeded to follow me through the twists and turns to the restaurant. As I pulled up to the place, he pulled up next to me and motioned for me to put my car window down.

He was about 40 years old, dressed in a dishdasha, and was clean-cut with spectacles on his nose. He had a concerned look on his face.

I made a snap judgment: I took him to be a responsible man, and perhaps he was going to let me know that there was something wrong with my car. After all, this wasn't some spiky-haired 18 year old…this man was old enough to be my father.

I lowered my window. I put my hunger on pause, imagining I was placing my safety and my car's well-being above such a trivial need as hunger.

He then asked for my phone number.

It took all of 2 seconds for me to go from sane to berserk. Here, I had given this man the benefit of the doubt and he had turned out to be a sleaze who follows women and tries to pick them up.

My blood sugar was low.

I was hungry.

I needed an outlet.

I looked at him, and with all the energy I had left in me, I literally "flipped a bi+ch" and SCREAMED "WHAT THE F**K!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

His eyes widened and you could see the "oh-my-God-she-is-insane" look on his face. D@mn straight I'm crazy. I haven't eaten yet.

He drove off immediately.

No-one gets between me and my food.

2006-07-17T06:48:00.000+03:00

Lazy Summer

And it's time to take a quiz, to break the monotony of hot and dusty days...

You are Fire!

Fire is associated with light, energy, and warmth, however it is most associated with sex and passion. Animals of Fire include all cats, like Lions and Panthers, as well as snakes, lizards, and scorpions.

Fire's mythical creature is the Phoenix.

Fire is traditionally placed in the South which represents Summer. Summer represents Adolescence in our lives when we are young and begin looking for that special someone. Fire's time of day is Noon, when the sun is at its highest.

Astrological signs associated with Fire are Leo, Aries, and Sagittarius.

The planets are the Sun and Mars.

Tarot cards that go with this element are the Emperor, Strength, the Devil, the Tower, and the Sun.

The Fire element's Archangel is Michael, the chief of Archangels, the Warrior of God. His flaming sword dispenses justice, balance, and protection to all the children of the One. He is often depicted in armor, like the ideal chevalier of the Middle Ages, protector of the weak and helpless. Like a true warrior, he would rather settle disputes peaceably than with violence. He is dressed in red and scarlet, the colors of Fire, courage, and honor.

Gems associated with the Fire element are Bloodstone, Garnet, Sunstone, Amber, and Ruby.

Balanced people of Fire hold Courage, Creativity, Independence, Loyalty, and Passion.

Fire bound people are very social and strong willed individual who are also leaders. They are also very outgoing and powerful.

What about you?

2006-07-10T06:45:00.000+03:00

Bootilicious…I wasn’t ready for that jelly.

Part II: The morning.

(This is a continuation of the last post, where I had gotten a boot placed on my car)

The next morning I was picked up along with the other girl whose car was booted. To the chica who drove us around that morning: You are amazing. I owe you one…or two…or more!

We arrived in Salmiya at 8:30 AM and decided to go to the police station. When we finally found the entrance, we were told that we would have to go to the district police station, which was located in Jabriya, in order to pay off the ticket. *sigh*. At least they were smiling and a bit more polite about it.

Off to Jabriya! We found one station next to the grocery store. When we walked in, we approached a guy who looked like he was the senior dude.

Us: Good morning. We had gotten our car booted, and wanted to know if this was the place where we pay our fine…

Policeman: (Gruffly) No.

Us: Ok, well, where do we pay?

Policeman: At the other station in Jabriya.

At this point the chica who drove us walked out of the station to start up the car again.

Us: Would you mind telling us where that is located?

Policeman: Your friend knows. That’s why she walked out.

Us: Ummm, no, she walked out to get the car started. She doesn’t know where the station is. We barely found this one. Would you mind telling us where the other police station is?

Policeman: She knows.

Ok Mr. Policeman, so you read minds, now?

Us: Humor us. Where is it?

Policeman: It’s next to the three buildings.

Well, that made it allll clear. Yup, the three buildings. Last I checked, there were thousands of buildings in Kuwait. The policeman dismissed us and looked down at his desk. As we left, I caught him checking out the girl that was with me. *sigh* This dude needed some serious therapy.

So off we went in search of the “three buildings.” After some phone calls, we found the police station…and proceeded in. The dead cockroach decorating the front door was an omen we should not have ignored. We then walked down to the bowels of the building, wandering around in dank, low-lit areas. We got to an elevator and tried to press the “2^ndfloor” button, where we needed to be…only there was no button. So we took the elevator to the 3^rd floor (an adventure in itself, as the weight limit for the elevator must have been 50 kilos) and took the stairs to the 2^nd floor. We walked into several rooms and then got to the right place. The area had obviously been an apartment in another life, as the hallways were narrow and the rooms were small.

Us: So how much do we owe?

Policeman: Five KD.

Us: Five? Umm..ok. (I was surprised that the amount was not as high as I had thought it was.)

Policeman: But if you have any outstanding tickets, you will owe whatever those are plus the five KD.

I racked my brains: Was that flash on Gulf Road the other week just the glare from the sun? Was it a ticket? Does that mean I owe 55 KD?

Thank goodness it turned out to be 5 KD, only. We paid and then, papers in hand, drove back to the Salmiya branch so that those policemen could call the guy to unlock the boots on our cars.

After being directed to go to another building, we wound up passing by the office of the man who was the head of the department. This was the same guy who had told the policeman who booted our cars to turn off his mobile and just take the night off. I peered in, but he was not there. I would have given him a piece of my mind. We then began talking with a really NICE policeman. Finally. I had a feeling that the A/C must have kept his mood up. He called a guy to unboot the cars.

We then waited by the cars for about an hour. During that time, we had brunch at Café Supreme. I could see the end of my car, but not the entire thing. Then, a policeman in an SUV pulled up, and I ran to him saying “Excuse me sir, but we are waiting for a policeman to unboot our cars…”

Policeman: Oh, yes, I heard about that. He will come by on Saturday.

Me: Pardon?

Policeman: On Saturday.

At this point, I was ready to break...or break something. We had been driving around to several places and had taken off 4 hours in the morning during a WORKDAY to complete this process.

He then surprised me: “Just kidding. I’ve already done the job.” He flashed a smile, and then drove off.

I can take a joke. I ran to the car and reparked it. It felt good to drive again.

So, I learned the hard way not to park in an illegal spot, even for 2-3 minutes. It can take away time, money, and energy from your life.

I do have to add, though, that I am curious to know WHY most officers were impolite to us…courtesy doesn’t cost a thing, but several officers went out of their way to say some snide remarks. Perhaps they enjoyed the power they held over us for those few hours.

This post is dedicated to those who were there with me on Tuesday night and on Wednesday morning.

2006-07-06T19:31:00.000+03:00

Bootilicious…I wasn’t ready for that jelly.

Part I: The evening.

It’s funny how just 5 minutes in your life can change your perspective on many, many things.

I was leaving work at 7:30 PM, a time that was actually EARLY for me to leave work. As I was going home, I got a call from a few friends who said that they were in Salmiya, and would I like to stop by and join them?

At first, I said no. I was going to go home, do some more work for 2 more hours, and then pass out, BUT I do love my friends and wanted to see them for a bit. So off I went.

They were at a coffee shop in Bustan Complex (a mall in Salmiya) and were leaving the mall at 8 to get dinner.

I arrived at 7:58, and since I figured I had only 2 minutes to “meet and greet” before we headed out for some chow, I was just going to quickly park on the side of the mall, run in and out, and drive to the restaurant.

So I parked. Illegally.

I did it. I confess. Guilty as charged.

My thought at the time was, “I’ll be right back, so it won’t be a problem.” I was wrong, wrong, wrong.

When I returned to the car, in those 2-3 minutes, I had a ticket placed on the car as well as…the BOOT.

The boot was in a lovely “nabeeha khamsa” orange.

So I went to the next logical step: Find a police officer. (The steps after that would be: Pay fine, get boot off car, go home, lick my wounds {mostly pride}, and learn from the lesson.)

I walked a couple of blocks to Fanar and found a police officer directing traffic. As I approached him, I said “I’m sorry to bother you, but I recently got a boot on my car…is there any way I can get it off now?” (Truth be told, I have NO idea what “boot” is in Arabic…I’m sure my bedliya was amusing, if nothing).

As we started walking toward the car, officer stopped after half a block and said, “Whoa. Where is your car? All the way over there? I’m tired after all that walking. Taa3abt ana.”

As I looked up, I saw my friends approaching and in one girl’s hands, like mine, was clutched a yellow piece of paper. She had gotten the BOOT, too. Well, misery does love company.

We tried to negotiate with the police officer, who kept saying “I didn’t do it. I want to help you, but I just can’t. The guy who put the boot on your car is heading toward the capital.” Dude. We didn’t say that YOU did it. We want to pay our dues to society and continue on with our lives. AND it was getting later and later in the evening. Our families would not appreciate us being late.

I looked at the officer and asked, half out of humor, “Well, I have to get home. I have work tomorrow morning. Would you at least help me change the tire so I can get home?”

He looked at me as if he just saw me inhale a whole load of coke in front of him. Hm. I guess that means “no”. When he found his voice, he started saying, “Oh, but that’s illegal, you could go to court…” The way the boot is on the tire, I figured it’s impossible to change the tire anyway. But why not ask?

We then tried talking to two other police officers, BOTH of whom were EXTREMELY rude. Up until that day, I had been ok with the Kuwaiti police, but these representatives were doing the best they could to tarnish that image.

Policeman #2: I didn’t do it.

Us: Ok, we understand that. We are not blaming you. We are asking if you could help us so that we can pay and get home to our families.

Policeman #2: Why don’t you call 777? (the equivalent of 911)

Us: Then…what are you all?

Policeman #2: Just get a man from your family to drive you home. You don’t have fathers, brothers? He then walks off, trying to act busy and important as he looks intently at the traffic in front of Fanar mall.

My friend: My father is traveling. I don’t have any brothers.

Me: I think I would rather die than call my father.

After calling some contacts in the police departments, it was found that the head of the department had told the man who booted our cars to turn off his mobile and just take the night off.

How rude. After waiting an hour and 45 minutes, we decided to give up and go home, and address the issue the next day.

Due to the length of the post, this will be continued in a few days…

2006-06-29T21:27:00.000+03:00

Vote.

If a passport shows how far you have traveled distance-wise, then your citizenship (jinsiyeh) shows how far you have traveled politically.

For a picture of the stamp, see Nibaq’s post.

Today was a historic day.

I woke up at 6 AM (not historic, that’s actually sleeping in these days) and was ready to go at 7:30 AM. I had been dropped off by my father to vote (as parking is atrocious) at 9 AM.

Due to a lack of organization, people kept cutting in line. Naturally, “older” women who were wheelchair-bound were VIP, and went straight inside to vote. I didn’t mind that. I DID mind that somewhere along the line the meaning of the word “old” got a bit skewed and perfectly healthy middle-aged women started to cut in line. Hmm.

By the time I got to the front, there was a girl about my age sitting with the “older women” talking to the policeman and asking when it was her turn.

The policeman, in fairness, looked at her and said, “The line you are in is for very old women. You must get in the other line and wait your turn.”

She had then turned up her nose and started whining.

It was my turn to walk inside, and I had wanted to turn and tell her “Yes, he is right. The line you are in is for old people, not for lazy people.”

But I didn’t want to make an already chaotic scene even worse.

Once inside, the process took 2 minutes.

I had waited 2 and a half hours for those 2 minutes.

But I would have waited for 10 hours. After all, us women have been waiting our entire lives for this moment.

2006-06-20T06:01:00.000+03:00

The Pill.

A friend recently gave me these mineral pills.

They are supposed to be really healthy for you; After all, you need your vitamins AND your minerals! Reading the nutritional information, I found that there were 75 minerals in this pill! Sweet. I was going to give my immune system some serious steroid action.

I took out a pill in the evening and put it in water, watching with fascination as the pill dissolved like Alka-Setlzer:

I decided to read the back of the box a little more carefully as the pill changed the water from clear to a gaterade yellow:

*These statements have not been evaluated by the Food and Drug Administration (FDA).*

Oh-ho! What is that? Hm. What to do?

HUMAN TESTING TIME!

Dammit, I have survived cafeteria food, old pizza, and sketchy cooking. I can do this.

So I chugged it. The entire thing.

Within half an hour, I passed out.

9 PM: Sound asleep

2 AM: I woke up parched. I needed water. So I downed an entire bottle of water…in about 30 seconds.

4:45 AM: I was up, UP UP!! I was ready to go!

The entire day, I couldn’t help but feel really optimistic and happy (was there Prozac in that thing, too?). I was moving. I was fast. I was efficient. I was smiling like a lunatic.

Hm. Well, that’s my review of the product. I don’t like falling asleep at 9 PM, but feeling light and energetic all day was nice and really helpful.

2006-06-18T07:11:00.000+03:00

Going down?

Why are so well behaved in elevators? Or airplanes?

Those enclosed spaces where, if someone does something deemed “socially inappropriate” (i.e., scream or jump around), we get scared…perhaps it’s a survival-territory issue.

That being said, I don’t mind talking the in elevator. Or talking to strangers (I must have missed the Don’t talk to Strangers day in Kindergarten).

So there I was in the elevator, with 30 seconds to the floor I was heading to. There was a young girl in the lift along with myself.

And she was wearing a Che Guevara shirt.

My initial thoughts? I was optimistic. “A comerade!” I thought. “A revolutionary, a…a…”

Oh, dear. What was I thinking? This is Kuwait.

Me: Do you like Che Guevara?

Girl: What?

Me: Che Guevara.

*I pointed to her shirt.*

Girl: Oh he was an actual person? I just liked the shirt.

Me: *sigh*. Yes, he was a pretty famous guy, historically.

* Seeing that the elevator was about to reach my floor, I had to give her the short-short version.*

He was a Revolutionary…in Cuba.

Her: Oh wow. I had no idea.

Me: *Walking out of the elevator.*

Yeah, he’s pretty interesting. I recommend you look him up.

I know there are people who don’t appreciate random comments from others, but I just couldn’t help myself. After all, she WAS displaying someone else’s face on her chest.

Perhaps she should get to know him a bit before all that intimacy.

This made me smile, today :

2006-06-13T07:37:00.000+03:00

Schizophrenia beats being alone.

Whenever I hear the word “Schizophrenia,” I think of this picture by Louis Wain:

Why? In 7^th grade, we were learning about psychiatric disorders in a health class. I read that Louis Wain was an artist who progressed from being of sound mind to having schizophrenia…and amazingly, it can be seen via his work.

The progression:

I still find his work fascinating.

2006-06-05T08:37:00.000+03:00

Live Longer

I recently read "15 tips for living longer" from this SITE.

1) Don't oversleep

2) Be optimistic

3) Have more sex

4) Get a pet

5) Get a VAP(a test that gauges your cholesterol level)

6) Be rich

7) Stop smoking

8) Chill out

9) Eat your antioxidants (beans and blueberries)

10) Marry Well

11) Exercise

12) Laugh a little

13) Lose Weight

14) Manage stress

15) Meditate

I think some of these could possibly clash. I will already write a DISCLAIMER *now* to say that I have twisted and exaggerated some of these for humor's sake. Now take down the crucifixes.

For example, if you want to "chill out" and "manage stress", some people use cigarettes (against # 7) as their coping mechanism. But one must "stop smoking" to be healthy, which leads to "GAINING weight" (against # 13) and "OVERsleeping" (against # 1)

In order to "be rich", one must be realistic in their business dealings, rather than "optimistic". And to meditate frequently would not work in the business world unless you are a Yoga Master that makes his or her money that way.

And according to some married friends of mine, as one stabilizes his or her "# 10" (marry well) then their "# 3" (have more sex) decreases. And "# 3" will continue to decrease at a rapid rate if we "eat our antioxidants" as we increase our foul olfactory-attacking body emissions.

I guess we can't all be perfect.

Our other option:

Live fast, die young, and leave a good looking corpse. Book reference

2006-06-04T11:53:00.000+03:00

The Late Disease

We are being plagued by a disease. A disease that has caused suffering for friends and families, which sometimes can be fatal. This disease has many names: Sometimes it is called tardiness, other times it is called procrastination, or it may even be casually regarded as simply being late. The proper name is yet to be defined as it is hard to get the patient of such a disease to show up on time for a complete diagnosis. This disease should be cured and humanity should no longer suffer. We have conquered polio, small pox, and Rick James, so why do we not have the ability to cure tardiness?

Let us start with some background to define the people suffering from such a disease, considering the remote chance that you are not aware of these symptoms. We all know these people; We interact with them on a regular basis in our daily lives. You know the ones: They come 20-30 minutes after the appointed time, stating a myriad of excuses and reasons ranging from work, traffic, family and the way the stars were aligned last night. Then, they have the audacity to act as if it is a normal occurrence and that you should accept it. Of course, we can all be late sometimes due to some unforeseen circumstances, but if that is the case, we inform the others and try to schedule work around our meet-ups for these circumstances. This is done so that the other party understands and knows what is occurring, and they can wait, assured that we will be arriving shortly.

What bothers us all and shows pure disrespect and disregard to our values and our precious time is our subject of this post, that one person who is chronically late...and is even proud of it. When arriving late, the person boasts that "this is who they are" and "we should all get used to it and accept it". Now, being late is first of all, rude to the people who are on time. Secondly, it is rude to the people who want to have things done on time. Furthermore, those who must wait probably had previous and further obligations, but end up waiting for the king or queen or late arrival to join them. What is even worse are people who do not give you an answer if they will come, then they agree to come later on, yet still arrive late. This makes the person look snobbish and arrogant, to the extent that it makes people question why they keep asking that person to join them when he or she does not even respect them enough to come on time.

From a psychological point of view, many of our bad habits develop at a young age, and being late is not exception. If the parents do not enforce discipline and structure in the mind of the child, then the child will develop into an adult that lacks responsibility. Time to them is nothing but a number, 20 minutes extra is nothing, no one will die right? That way of thinking is plain stupid. It is not difficult to be on time, especially if the others provide the concerned person with the time well in advance for that person to arrange their schedule accordingly. This disease is truly fatal to the system of order, structure, and discipline. Though the carriers of this disease are those who are tardy, the victims of this illness (who are left waiting) are the ones who truly suffer.

So let us start a campaign against people who are always late. Let us call it the Campaign against Tardy Tarts. (CATTs)

If you know a tardy tart, please pass this message to them.

Remember, don't be a pussy. Join the CATTs!

2006-05-29T09:45:00.000+03:00

Life is a Highway.

There are some out there who think they can know a woman by what is in her purse, or a man by going through his wallet.

But what about the car? What do we keep in our cars that is important to us? Does that show some of our identity? Perhaps.

In my car, I have the following:

Music: CDs, CDs, and more CDs. Viva la musica! I like the car to vibrate down the road.

Sunglasses: Because the sun is *evul* here.

A pair of white leather racing gloves: VroOoOm…And she's off! She's coming around the corner and can see the checkered flag in front of her…*pop*…Oh wait, it's back to real life. I have those gloves because I don't want to get burned in the 45C degree heat.

A box of Kleenex: When you DON'T have one, you feel worse than if you were caught in a rainstorm without an umbrella.

Pretzels: Because after college, you realize that pretzels have a shelf life of…forever.

Gum: You never know when you need a piece.

Perfume and body spray: It's not for me, it's for the car. It has to do with a dead piece of animal that was in there. *sigh*. Don't ask.

Car phone charger: A gift that keeps on giving.

Lip balm: Yes, I am female.

Pen: For those sudoku moments in traffic.

A file: my weapon of choice.

What's in your car?

2006-05-22T23:52:00.000+03:00

Hug it up

When there is someone who is coping with a hard circumstance, such as a death in the family, a high-tension strain on a relationship, or a personal grievance, there are certain coping skills that are used in order to deal with the situation.

Some cry, some get angry, some write poetry, others take long walks, or eat a tub of Ben and Jerry's "Everything But The...".

Now here is the strange situation you, the listener-of-these-troubles, may find yourself in. If another person is trying to sort out their issues, and comes to you for advice, what do you do? You talk, consol, offer ideas…but then there is a moment you may find yourself hesitating:

You think, in your Westernized way of thinking, that this person needs a hug. The power of touch is truly undeniable in the medical and psychological fields.

Now, I have never been the best to discuss feeeeeeelings with. I cringe at the word *emotion*. But I can see when someone needs a hug.

Hold on a second, though! Perhaps this person-dealing-with-an-issue is a boss…or coworker…or loyal customer…or a person of the opposite sex. They are not your friend, but rather, an acquaintance that you care about.

Imagine hugging in Kuwait. Imagine how it would be to hug your boss, or coworker, of the opposite sex, here in an Arab-Muslim country. Talk about cognitive dissonance..

To hug or not to hug?

2006-05-21T08:40:00.000+03:00

Some like it Hot.

Many people here in Kuwait put some sort of spicy ingredient in their food: Louisiana-style Hot Sauce, cayenne chili peppers, and jalapeños. Some can't even eat rice without one or two hot spices added for a little kick.

My personal favorites are banana peppers, brown mustard, and wasabi.

I was just introduced to a new way to brighten up carrots, thanks to Mar: Sliced carrots, lemon juice, and black pepper. MMmm.

There are some that I never understood, like kimchi. It may be one of the world's five healthiest foods, but my taste buds will go on strike if I ever attempt to eat that again!

Just remember:

He who controls the spice controls the universe.

2006-05-16T07:28:00.000+03:00

Your Dragon Self

It's getting harder and harder to find fun and funky quizzes. I found THIS one, and will say that it's good for a time when you just want to imagine things…and it's also great for fantasy readers in the 90s; it may take you back to the DRAGONLANCE series.

*Tip* highlight the answers with your mouse so that you can see them all.

My results: (i have bolded some amusing parts)

You are a Black Dragon, you live in secluded mountains or marshes, occasionally in deeps forests. You are very smart, and you rather use your brains before attacking. You rarely speak to humans, but when you do, you speak perfectly any language. You are very good at occult arts and often use magic. You would rather have nothing to do with humans, but will be of great help if you do. You are very fierce about the violation of you territory. Unfortunately, you are quite unstable, maybe chaotic. You can spite acid. (*note*: Perhaps the author meant "spit acid", but I like the idea of spite mixed with acid)

Stone: onyx
Quote (what I say to humans): "What a splendid head, yet no brain. " from Aesop
You control: darkness

Et tu, Brute?

2006-05-14T06:29:00.000+03:00

Combat Search and Rescue Mission

This morning I woke up and heard a mewling outside my window. It was quite close, so I had opened the window to investigate. There was a kitten stuck on the balcony of my neighbors house.

I realized that I would have to cross into enemy territory to save this little comrade.

So there I am, it's 6 AM, and I'm in my pajamas scaling down a wall or two trying to get this little cat.

All of a sudden the son of the my neighbor pokes his head out the window asking what the heck I'm doing. I'm sure I must have looked ridiculous.

I point out that there is a kitten stuck under his air conditioning unit on his balcony, and asked if he could please help me out.

His response: It's dirty and I just took a shower!

*Sigh* Pussy.

The kitten is fine.

2006-05-13T07:31:00.000+03:00

Time to check your Caff level…

A friend of mine recently told me something: If you make someone who works at a coffee shop mad, then they put in DECAF in your order. (This happens in the US).

Whoa. Instant retribution.

Then I was reading my morning news and found THIS . Just look at the title:

Dipsticks could check caffeine in your cup

Scientists developing new measuring method, powered by llamas

An excerpt:

[T]he researchers injected proteins linked to caffeine into the five beasts to elicit an immune response. [The Camels and llamas] produced antibodies in their blood that were reactive to caffeine. Then in the lab, these antibodies were found to accurately indicate the amount of caffeine in hot coffee and also cold cola.

More work needs to be done to move the technique from the lab, via caffeine dipsticks. But that's the goal.

Animal testing for caffeine dipsticks? I don't like it.

But I always knew camels were on our side…

2006-05-09T09:42:00.000+03:00

She Wants Revenge

It has been a while since I have had coffee in the morning. These days I have been drinking red bull and diet cokes. This morning, though, I wanted something different. I wanted some nice warm black coffee with just a little bit of creamer to take the edge off. Ah, I could almost taste the bitter-rich goodness.

So I went into the small kitchen that I share with my coworkers (around 50 others) and started to heat up the water and get out the coffee. We each buy and label our own coffee and creamer. There is a trust system. Three spoonfuls of coffee. MmMM. Now all I needed was one small spoon of creamer.

As I reached into the cabinet, my hands felt nothing. NOTHING!

Someone had been siphoning off my creamer in the past month.

And now, it was gone.

I know the last time I made my coffee a few weeks ago, I had enough creamer to keep me going another month or two. I plan ahead. I am always stocked up on both coffee and creamer.

Somebody at the office has been stealing my creamer, and I also suspect, some of my coffee, too.

A great cup of coffee allows me to relax and get ready to greet the stress of the day. It is a small pleasure I truly enjoy, and it keeps me smiling even when there are deadlines floating over my head, heavy work to be done, and meetings to be had.

I am planning revenge.

Any ideas?

2006-05-03T08:12:00.000+03:00

Car-less no more

I had a female friend whose fiancée's name was Carlos. It's pretty easy to pronounce: Car – los. (Karl-oh-s). We can all say it. It's not so difficult.

But when I introduced the couple to my father, I realized how funny that name could be: My dad kept calling him "Car-less." I stopped him once, whispering, "Dad, his name is Car-LOS!"

My father whispered back, "I know. Car-less. That is what I am saying!!"

He was calling Carlos "bidoun sayarah" (without car) the entire afternoon. It took a lot for me not to burst out laughing…

They say that kids are a source of happiness and laughter…Well, sometimes parents can make you laugh, too!

2006-04-27T08:15:00.000+03:00

[UN]-dressed to kill

It was the mid afternoon, and I was driving up to one of the restaurants on the Gulf Road to catch a bite to eat. As I passed some already-parked cars, I noticed one man standing near the closed trunk of his SUV. He was in his underwear.

Now, men's underwear in Kuwait is…different. It is technically "underwear", but it covers most of the body: He had on a white short-sleeved undershirt, and long white pants (sirwaal).

He then proceeded to put on a clean white dishdasha over his white undergarments.

I guess it was little "quick change" in a busy Kuwaiti parking lot. Perhaps this is not unusual in this country, but it was definitely the first time I had seen it.

How naked is "ne-kid" when it comes to changing clothes in open-spaced, public areas?

2006-04-19T07:04:00.000+03:00

It's in the Lesson Plan.

I had to share this. Get the song.

The abc's of kinky sex – Lords of Acid

a b c d e f g
h i j k l m n o p
q r s t u v
w x y and z

oh how happy you will be
once i teach you my abc's

A is for asphyxiation, you won't catch your breath

B is for the blindfold, that keeps you dark as death

C is for your cockroach that I squash beneath my shoe
while I watch it wiggle and I laugh at you, ha ha

D is for my dildo that you will learn to blow

E is for your enema, I control the flow

F is for my flogger, I whip you so violent

G is for the gag in place to keep your screaming silent

H is for humiliation that you must bear

I will immobilize you in my sexual lair

J is for your jizzy jerking tendency

K for kisses

L for loving licks you offer me

M is for the manacles imprisoning your feet

N is for your nelly little nimby so sweet

O is for the O rings holding you in place

P is for the perspiration dripping down your face

Q is for the quirt I use to whip your eager ass

R is for restraints to make the magic last

S is for sweet suffering that only you will know

T is for the torment that keeps you on the go

U is for unbridled lust that only I control
As I claim for my own your body, mind and soul

V is for the vicious urge to struggle in vain
while I tease and tantalize you and eroticize your pain

W is where the wily woman walks
X is for excruciating X rated talk
Y is you, the yo-yo. I yank upon your string
watch you yell and holler, love the pleasure that it brings

Z is for the zestfulness with which you will submit

Now I've taught you every letter, so remember all of it!

Twinkle twinkle little slut,
now I spank your naughty butt.
Once I've warmed it you will cry
and I'll wipe your teary eye
Don't forget the lessons learned
or your rumpsticks will be burned

A-B-C
you and me

K-I-N-K spells S-E-X
It's the ABC's of S-E-X
F-U-N spells K-I-N-K

Ba ba black sheep in my school
you'll be shorn of all your wool
One lesson in submission, another in pain
After graduation things will never be the same
You'll become my groaning fool
drowning in a puddle of your own drool

A-B-C
you and me

a b c d e f g
h i j k l m n o p
q r s t u v
w x y and z

oh how happy I will be
once I teach you the kinky ABC's

2006-04-11T07:37:00.000+03:00

3 Months Pregnant.

The other day I came home from work and was greeted with the following news:

Dad: Caff, you have to go to the hospital. Your cousin X just had a baby.

Caff: Ummm. I just learned she was pregnant a week ago. She already gave birth?

Dad: Yes. Go.

Why doesn't anyone in this country let people know they are pregnant BEFORE the second trimester? I hear about pregnancies anywhere from 6 months after they get pregnant to a week before they deliver. It's like they have only been preggie for 3 months. Is the trepidation of the evil eye and the fear of miscarriage enough to silence the woman for months?

Well, so I went off to the hospital, vase of flowers in tow, staggering under the weight of the ridiculous floral arrangement (I knew I should have gone for the chocolates).

I must have visited during prime-time: Twenty women, all in high fashion gear, flooded the room. The mix of perfumes was enough to make me high the moment I approached the room.

When did the "hospital visit" become a party event? These ladies had obviously gone to the salon, and were all looking great, but good grief: We are here for cousin X. I am sure cousin X doesn't give a flip about new highlights or cute heels. She just had a baby, looks like she was hit by a train, and she simply wants to relax. The formality of it all weirded me out. I looked down at my jeans…que serà, serà.

2006-04-09T10:30:00.000+03:00

Crazy Little Duck.

Rubber Ducky, you're the one

You make bath time lots of fun

Rubber Ducky I'm awfully fond of you…

Rubber Ducky, joy of joys

When I squeeze you, you make noise…

(Updated source: Ernie, thanks to Jackie)

The duck had some problems lighting the cigg: Wingtips vs. opposable thumbs. There is no competition; hands down the battle goes to finger-flickin'-good.

It's a hard life as a duck…people know that duck rhymes with..

Merci, Mar

2006-04-03T07:42:00.000+03:00

The Dark Side of MSN.

It's highly annoying when random - @$$ people add themselves to your *personal* MSN. (The blog MSN is different, you expect random bloggers to add themselves: That is chill with me.)

I usually "accept" strange looking MSN addresses because I have friends that have multiple MSN nicknames and some of those nicknames have no relation to their actual names.

But it's those times when it's some strange guy (or girl) just wanting to talk to you because they are

A) bored

B) lonely

C) horny

D) all of the above.

Arg. No thank you. They are as annoying as telemarketers. So I tried a new strategy with this one (instead of my usual strategy of the "auto-block" once I find out that I do not know them):

*Names have been changed to protect the identity of the participants. Spelling errors have been preserved.

Caffeinated says:

hi...Mo?

M O says:

(Arabic) : Hala

M O says:

(Arabic) : Keyfik?

Caffeinated says:

right.

Caffeinated says:

How do I know you?

Caffeinated says:

fine…as long as I know you.

M O says:

(English) I don’t know exactlly

M O says:

But sorry if I noises u

Caffeinated says:

you added me.

M O says:

where U from

Caffeinated says:

Your adding random people is a total crapshoot. You never know what kind of people you meet.

Caffeinated says:

I'm from hell.

Caffeinated says:

Your font is annoying the crap outta me.

M O says:

Why u angry

Caffeinated says:

If you think my responses are rooted in anger, perhaps you should read up on the complexities of emotion.

M O says:

ur name is Caffeinated

Caffeinated says:

no shit.

Should I applaud? Do you want a cookie?

*** End of Conversation ***

I guess I must have scared him off...too bad.

2006-03-31T12:50:00.000+03:00

There has to be Limits.

In November, the Coffee Industry Association of Brazil proposed to help fund a breakfast program for a million schoolchildren as young as age 6, provided that the meal includes coffee. [New York Times, 2-12-06] [New Zealand Herald, 11-21-05]

If coffee stunts growth, these little kids would be quite the tiny graduating senior class.

Random discovery: If you are short on cash, and do not have a conscience (i.e. profiting off of ignorance), you can sell Excedrin pills and claim that they are "E." (Ecstasy)

2006-03-17T16:10:00.000+03:00

A sign of summer…

Although today wasn't exactly a hot day, I heard one of the sounds that marks the beginning of a warmer time here in Kuwait:

Baaaa-reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed!

The ice cream man! The ice cream man is here! The raspy voice calling out making kids flow into the streets, running, jingling their coins in their pockets…

I find that voice to be one of the sweetest sounds of summer.

2006-03-13T22:17:00.000+03:00

Lies, all lies...

I had to pick up some stuff at the Sultan Center, a grocery store that carries a wide variety of products, located in Salmiya . As I was walking into the store, I couldn't help but overhear the cackling voice of a woman on her cell phone in front of me (translated from Arabic):

"Noooo…Really? I'm in Hawalli right now!!"

Lies, I tell you!

There is a part of me that wants to say, "NO she's NOT!" But it's no business of mine. If I was going to confront her about something, it would be about her unkempt teased hair that was red, brown, and purple, or about her jeans that were 2 sizes too small…and too short. Or I would tell her that I had no idea WHEN fuchsia (hot pink) was "in," and that her shirt was blinding me.

Sure, "Miss-I-dressed-in-the-dark" lies. I just gave her a funny look and went on my way…

What would you have done?

2006-03-10T13:59:00.000+03:00

The English Language.

This was one of my favorite forwards sent to me years ago. The English language is quite difficult to learn as a foreigner, simply because it breaks so many grammatical rules…

Some reasons why the English language is hard to learn...

The bandage was wound around the wound.

The farm was used to produce produce.

The dump was so full that it had to refuse more refuse

We must polish the Polish furniture.

He could lead if he would get the lead out.

The soldier decided to desert his dessert in the desert.

Since there is no time like the present, he thought it was time to present the present.

A bass was painted on the head of the bass drum.

When shot at, the dove dove into the bushes.

I did not object to the object.

The insurance was invalid for the invalid.

There was a row among the oarsmen about how to row.

They were too close to the door to close it.

The buck does funny things when the does are present.

A seamstress and a sewer fell down into a sewer line.

To help with planting, the farmer taught his sow to sow.

The wind was too strong to wind the sail.

After a number of injections my jaw got number.

Upon seeing the tear in the painting I shed a tear.

I had to subject the subject to a series of tests.

How can I intimate this to my most intimate friend?

2006-03-02T16:51:00.000+03:00

KLUTZ.

Klutz: Even the word itself is awkward. All of those consonants and such a lonely vowel in the middle. And when we say "klutz", we trip over the lonely vowel and bounce over the last two letters, checking ourselves for bruises.

I find that in the morning, upon climbing out of bed, I bang into one wall or another on my way out of the room. I have bruised toes, shoulders, and legs.

When I play sports, I wander home happily exhausted but with a few more scrapes and cuts.

The latest episode is that I have dropped a full, unopened can of Diet Coke on one of my toes. The Coke was fine. My toe is red.

I thought that we were supposed to out-grow this clumsiness as we get older. It doesn't seem to be the case over here.

2006-02-25T12:45:00.000+03:00

Party time.

There must be some big gala going on that I wasn't invited to. I think it has to do with commemorating the fact that the world now has a population of 6. 5 billion.

50 million Pounds (about 25 million KD) was stolen. Well, now we have the funds for a great time.

186 black tuxedo jackets were stolen. Lookin' spiff.

26,000 dollars worth of beer was stolen. Now who wants to try a keg stand? If beer is not your flavor, perhaps the bar, open 24 hours, can find you something that suits your palate.

A half pound of marijuana was mis-mailed and another man was caught cultivating a huge amount of cannabis (700 plants of marijuana!). Even anti-meth pamphlets promise a good time. Half a million pounds worth of cocaine was found and a school is testing for marijuana, cocaine, PCP, Ecstasy, methamphetamines and opiates…What, did someone talk? I'm sure there are one million Afghanis who are angry at that.

Brazil's Carnivals are starting up, making the Bishops blush. And even New Orleans is getting down. Obviously the party continues through hell and high water. And Ultrafest is coming up, too: Check out the line up.

There is guaranteed 24 hours lovin', leaving no one high and dry.

De La Hoya is setting up a new boxing match. Back in the ring, baby. It can be live on a wide-screen huge TV in the background.

There are streakers on standby, ready and willing. What's a party without some nakedness?

Profits off of coffee are heading through the roof (Look, we have to stay awake to see all the fun events, right?)

My question is, where is the party?

2006-02-25T12:43:00.000+03:00

Una para los Libros de la Historia.

What is National Day in Kuwait all about?

It is not simply about establishing our independence. This occurred on June 19^th , 1961, when the 1899 treaty with the British was terminated.

So what happened on February the 25^th?

Sheikh Abduallah Al-Salem Al Sabah ascended the throne on that date in 1950. He was the one who signed the contract with the British, and became the first Amir of a newly independent Kuwait. He institutionalized a constitution a year later, November 11^th, 1962, and then the Parliament the year after that.

So what exactly are we celebrating? A visionary's accession to the throne? Perhaps. I call him a visionary because the importance he placed on a constitution, an institution that set forth a state in motion that respects that paper even today, as we recently decided who would rule the state in 2006. It is for that reason, as well as others, that I respect this holiday.

Ah, the stories we iterate to ourselves, imagining a "we-ness" in a world of others. It makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside…and allows you to forget the "story" in history.

2006-02-16T22:43:00.000+03:00

Look to the stars

How far should we take astrology?

In November, the military ruler of Myanmar, Gen. Than Shwe, ordered his entire government to immediately pack up and move from Rangoon to a new capital 200 miles away in the small town of Pyinmana, based on dire warnings from his astrologer (though the move had been long-rumored).

[Los Angeles Times, 12-24-05]

I think astrology is great fun: Leos, Pisces, Scorpios, Capricorns…It's cute to see what the traits are and where you fit.

But changing your life for it? Nah. Changing the face of your country for it? No way!

I simply can't imagine having a Rasputin -like character whisper "advice" as to the course of my life…thank you, I'll take care of it my self. Go home, Nostradamus.

2006-02-12T18:37:00.000+03:00

I HATE Roaches.

I don't like them. I will never like them. Extermination is the only way.

I like to consider myself a humanitarian. Now, I 'm not claiming to be a tree hugger; I certainly am a carnivore (medium rare, baby). But I will not be intentionally cruel to our fuzzy and winged friends.

HOWEVER, I must say, that I have *hate* for anything that can naturally survive a nuclear holocaust.

Here are some fun-filled facts about our evil cohabitants:

The roach is also one of the hardiest insects on the planet, capable of living for a month without food and remaining alive headless for up to a week. It can also hold its breath for 45 minutes and has the ability to slow down its heart rate. Cockroaches also have a very high resistance to radiation.

Those bastards!

Living in Kuwait, we cannot escape them. No matter how clean we keep the house, they find their way inside. Now it's WAR!

My first reaction when seeing a roach is to throw something at it. Anything. Attack!!

But I'm tired of them coming back for more. I want to just burn one on a stake and leave him out there for the rest of his buddies to find him and to run away in fear.

Any suggestions?

2006-02-09T12:34:00.000+03:00

Evul Kitty.

For all of you who like animals, especially cats, this joke that I found online is priceless:

Secret Cat Diary

DAY 752 - My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from shredding the occasional piece of furniture. Tomorrow I may eat another houseplant and cough it up on the carpeting.

DAY 761 - Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded, must try this at the top of the stairs. In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favorite chair...must try this on their bed (again).

DAY 762 - Slept all day so that I could annoy my captors with sleep depriving, incessant pleas for food at ungodly hours of the night.

DAY 765 - Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body, in attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was...Hmmm. Not working according to plan...

DAY 768 - I am finally aware of how sadistic they are. For no good reason I was chosen for the water torture. This time however it included a burning foamy chemical called "shampoo." What sick minds could invent such a liquid. My only consolation is the piece of thumb still stuck between my teeth and the tiny bit of flesh under my claws.

DAY 771 - There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the foul odor of the glass tubes they call "beer." More importantly I overheard that my confinement was due to MY power of "allergies." Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage.

DAY 774 - I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit. The Bird on the other hand has got to be an informant. He has mastered their frightful tongue (something akin to mole speak) and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room his safety is assured. But I can wait, it is only a matter of time.

2006-02-07T20:56:00.001+03:00

Keep the Faith

After some inspiration from Entrepreneur, and a simultaneous suggestion by Raf* and Tooomz, mixed in with some slight laziness (me), I have decided to post a reconfigured reply to Entrepreneur's question:

Why do you think no communistic/socialistic systems have succeeded in the sense of political stability and economic wealth?

From a purely economic standpoint, I can say that capitalism has leaned how to transcend national boundaries, and communism was never successful, as it was bound to a state, rather than a group.

During the Cold War, when there was arguably more of a "system" of Communism regarding the USSR and its satellites, I would say that any smaller state had the ability to prop up any regime when supported by its regional hegemon. However, the relationship was unbalanced, as these smaller states were dependent on the

USSR

, rather than being mutually interdependent. These types of unbalanced relationships (as often seen in relationships of imperial states and those under its power) in a world that is increasingly interconnected and globalized cannot stand, as there is a new understanding of universal human rights pertaining to politics, culture, economics, etc that the smaller state becomes aware of, and as there is a large cost imposed on the imperialist state to maintain its spheres of influence.

There has been one system that was successful, and those were the Kibbutzim in

Israel

. In my opinion, these groups were able to successfully function under a socialist infrastructure because it was small. That means each member could make sure that the other was putting in his or her time into whatever project deemed important. The "free-rider" problem that would be prevalent in larger groups was not a problem here.

I believe that no communistic/ socialistic system has "succeeded" according to your qualifications because of, in a word, corruption. Those in power in the state system that has chosen communism as its regime become dictators, and thus lose the whole essence, in my opinion, of pure communism because these dictators are soon separated from society and live a lifestyle different than their people. What I strongly agree with is the communist idea of a classless society, (not necessarily something Marxist, where "class" is based on wealth only); a pure equality of the people.

In this sense, there are many "socialist parties" that follow the softer line, presenting views of an egalitarian society, and a government that would look after the concerns of it's citizens. Most simply want to have trade unions, provide welfare and health care, and nationalization of local industries. In fact, in France right now, there seems to be a "rising star" socialist, Segolene Royal, who may be France's next President…

Capitalism can be both national and international, and "successful". However, if I said, "Well, don't only 10..or 20 companies practically own the world?", wouldn't you smirk and chuckle at the irony (and truth) of it? In a way, yes, corporations have become these huge non-state actors that have much power. When one large company (Boeing) not even on that list of 20 receives a defense contract that is worth more than several small state's GDP's put together, it makes you sit back and reconsider what is a "success".

I don't think capitalism is purely successful either, because it tends to leave those who never had the opportunity to begin with to fall even further behind. This is so on an individual level, with humans, as well as on a state level, with lesser-developed or developing countries. Sure, for now it works with the state system, but there are also tensions with the sovereignty of a state and the globalizing (and imposed, sometimes, especially with the World Bank, IMF, and WTO) tendencies of capitalist multinational corporations.

What piques my interest right now is something called "managed capitalism." From what I know, there is government involvement in protecting their domestic industries until those industries have become strong enough to compete with the world market. Those known as the "Asian Tigers" have been involved in this kind of economic regime, and have become successful. I really do not know much about it, however. Any good links? Explanations? I am intrigued.

2006-01-28T14:09:00.000+03:00

Dirty Little Secret.

I was reading Nibaq's link to the THE BEAST'S list of "50 Most Loathsome people in American 2005" and found this at number 18:

18. Tommy Hilfiger

Charges: Egomaniacal designer of drab, ironically patriot-hued clothing, manufactured by Chinese migrants who overcrowd the equally drab Pacific Rim factories of the United States Commonwealth of Saipan...Workers slave for pennies, are administered forced abortions, and still can slap a "Made in the USA" sticker on their products.

What I had remembered about Hilfiger was THE RUMOUR that he was on the Oprah Show and allegedly said that “If I’d known African-Americans, Arabs, Hispanics and Asians would buy my clothes, I would not have made them so nice.” This was not true, however.

Here was a new attack on the "designer." I wondered how deep this problem really was. And you know, I had never heard of the United States Commonwealth of Saipan. It was time to look things up. So I followed the trail paved by Nibaq...

Saipan is the capital of the US Commonwealth of Northern Marina Islands, CNMI.

According to the CIA World Factbook:

Suffrage is 18 years of age; universal; indigenous inhabitants are US citizens but do not vote in US presidential elections

BUT who is the Chief of State?
chief of state: President George W. BUSH of the US (since 20 January 2001)

YES, THAT George W. Bush. Well, well, well. So those from Saipan can vote for their local government (the CNMI), but have NO SAY in the government that ACTUALLY controls them. Sounds like democracy to me *cough, cough*.

My buddy Wikipedia noted this: Despite its status as a U.S. Commonwealth, Saipan is exempt from some federal laws, including key labor and immigration laws. As a result, a number of garment factories with wages around half of the U.S. minimum wage have been set up on the island to supply the U.S. market. Goods manufactured in U.S. Commonwealths, including Saipan, may be labeled "Made in the USA".

Excccuuuuuse Me? (And by the way, Tommy Boy isn't the only one who is guilty of this…so are 27 others, including the GAP and Ralph Lauren) I thought that if it was "Made in the USA", it was to be subject to USA labor laws. Well, that's misleading to say the least.

How in the world was this allowed to continue for so long? (And still IS)?? Where does the rabbit hole end?

Continuing on Wiki, we find that: Efforts to close this loophole were recently scuttled by Republican Congressmen under the influence of lobbyist Jack Abramoff, who directed money from the Marianas garment industry to Republicans and conservative causes.

And so Abramoff, who is in the oh-so-recent news (here is a good TIME LINE, and for a quick glance, see 1999 and 2002) for a huge scandal regarding double-dealing in his lobbying techniques, was also playing the Double Agent regarding the chances for the "guest workers" of the CNMI to break free from the sweatshop labor work (they only get about 3 dollars an hour).

You see,

In exchange for millions of dollars of CNMI money (read, U.S. taxpayer money), Abramoff hooked DeLay up with Willie Tan, the principal Saipan garment manufacturer. A 1999 segment on the TV news magazine 20/20 revealed Tan’s own impression of the importance of his relationship with DeLay when Tan was shown on tape boasting to the undercover investigator posing as a potential investor that there would be “no problem” with Saipan maintaining its favorable relationship with the U.S. because of DeLay’s protection. That protection included preserving the $3.05 minimum wage and local control over immigration, which permit Saipan to import Asian garment workers and pay them what are essentially slave wages…DeLay had assured Tan and Abramoff that any such odious legislation would never see the light of day.

It hasn’t.

It just makes you think twice about buying a "markat" or "label."

Post Script:

The CNMI has a "resident representative" that is a liaison in the US Congress, but "resident representatives" are a step BELOW a "nonvoting member" of Congress (that is the status they are currently trying to get). (Not only that, they do have their internal problems as well- although there are over 60,000 people in Saipan, only 15,000 may vote). Corruption from above and below.

2006-01-27T12:53:00.000+03:00

Theory of Relativity

I have noticed that females from both the East and West employ a logic I shall dub the Theory of Relativity Concerning Weight Gain.

When females go out in groups (ranging from 3 to 6 people) to restaurants, there are several factors that encourage eating a large amount of food.

First of all, there are no guys, meaning there will be no reason for "trying to look good and ever so petite and lady-like". Bring on the chili cheese fries!!

Secondly, with more food, there is more time to catch up on what everyone has been doing for the past day/ week/ month: Drinks…appetizers…main courses…desserts…coffee. That could span a time over 3 hours. It's cyclical: The more you eat, the longer you talk, and the longer you talk, the more you eat.

Third of all, there is what I am proposing, the Theory of Relativity Concerning Weight Gain. This theory is NOT for females only, as I was inspired by a male and his eating habits to write about this. (I'd rather hear it from the guys, though, about males.) The Theory goes as follows:

If every one around you eats a certain amount of food, and you are eating exactly what they are eating, then you are not "getting fat", because if that logic is employed, so are they (And who likes to admit that to him or herself? Not very many people).

In other words, that cheesecake that you both ate? It doesn't count, because you BOTH will have gained weight, so that NEITHER of you will point the finger at the other's weight gain (It's a zero-sum weight gain).

Although I don't agree with this theory, I do believe it exists, both among females as well as males.

Thoughts? Ideas? Confessions?

2006-01-26T14:06:00.000+03:00

I'm not mean. You're just a sissy.

I have always liked Jim Benton's "Happy Bunny". Note that it is for "advanced teens and up." I guess I'm an advanced teen. Or just "up".

I do love the T-shirts…Benton has such a cruel and ironic sense of humor:

It's Cute How You Think I'm Listening to You

Make The Stupid People Shut Up…

You GO Girl…And Don't Come Back!

Well, its quiz time, and this one is strange but simple…

You scored as Cute but Psycho.

You scored as Cute but Psycho. You are the cute but psycho bunny! You can be cute but at times you can very weird and crazy which might scare some people!

Cute but Psycho

100%

Kiss My Ass

83%

It's All About Me

75%

I Hate You so Bad

75%

Sloppy and Weird

58%

You Suck and Thats Sad

58%

Love Sucks

33%

You Smell Like Butt

17%

What's Your Happy Bunny?
created with QuizFarm.com

What about you?

2006-01-22T22:47:00.000+03:00

Ahh, the Pleasures of Dial Up...

I got a bit distracted these past few days and had forgotten all about the fact that my internet card would expire…pronto. So one recent afternoon I sat down and I wanted to connect.

The computer dials the number…

Error 691: Access was denied because the username

and/or password was invalid on the domain.

This must be a mistake. Redial. Redial! REEEDIAAALL!!!!!

The Horror.

It was true. I was internet-less.

For the last couple of days, while I was waiting for the opportunity to go out and get a card, I suffered from internet site withdrawal. I think the top three things I missed were:

1. BLOGLAND!

2. E mail. (Friends, laugh all you want. Yes, I know, I ONLY check my e mail once a month to make sure my account still is useable, but I still need to KNOW I have access to it...It's a psychological thing. Are you guys still laughing?)

3. The latest and greatest interesting news that I find while browsing through several news sites (and these I must share):

A) Checking BBC Middle East, I found THREE articles on Kuwait. Incredible.

ONE TWO THREE

Oh, dear. This might get difficult.

B) An indigenous Indian has been elected PRESIDENT of Bolivia for the first time and the people of Chile have elected their first-ever woman president.

AMAZING changes. Unconventional and heartwarming at the same time.

C) The internet search engine Google is RESISTING efforts by the US Department of Justice to force it to hand over data about what people are looking for.

What initiated this?

The Bush administration, seeking to revive an online PORNOGRAPHY law struck down by the U.S. Supreme Court, has subpoenaed Google Inc. for details on what its users have been looking for through its popular search engine.

NooOoOoO!!

Everybody, this is the plan: Save all your porn to disc. Erase it from your history. If they can't find it on your computer, then the search that they traced to your computer may have been done by your invisible roommate. Everyone say, "Plausible Deniability": It wasn't MeEeEee.

D) The Taleban thought the idea of teaching women how to drive was "SATANIC", but Mr Mamozai's [driving] school now has more than 200 female graduates.

Satanic women drivers. Kinda makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

E) According to the Nov. 10 Evening News of Sault Ste. Marie, Mich., a father was under investigation by police after War Memorial Hospital reported an assault on the man's 11-year-old son. Police said it appeared that the two were playing a video game, that the son had beaten his dad by using a secret upgrade that made his character more powerful, and that the dad, in anger, had spanked the kid, put soap in his mouth and slapped him several times in the head. (The father said only that he had punished the boy for lying.) [Evening News, 11-10-05]

Why do I feel like there are about a hundred incidents of the SAME scenario over video games everyday?

If you had no access to a computer for a while, what are the three things/ sites you would miss?

2006-01-15T23:35:00.000+03:00

Today, my heart is heavy.

3tham Allaho Ajrik, 3tham Allaho Ajrich.

2006-01-13T22:49:00.000+03:00

Once Upon a Time…

As children, we read some pretty violent and sexy "children's tales". Most of the stories I read were parts of collections of the Arabian Nights, the Brothers Grimm, and Hans Christian Anderson as well as some others.

With the Arabian Nights (or One Thousand and One Nights), we were told salacious tales of lust and betrayal. The Porter and the Three Ladies of Baghdad is a favorite of mine, for it is the story that introduces all the other tales.

With the Brothers Grimm, my favorite story has always been "The Boy Who Went Forth to Learn Fear." In the version I had read (there are several versions), a boy does not know what fear is, and so sets out on a journey order to try to experience this emotion. He had been approached at midnight by men who have been chopped in pieces, played games with skulls and bones, and revived a murderer, but was never scared. Because of his courage, he marries the King's daughter, whom he has fallen deeply in love with. He is still troubled, however, that he does not know how to be afraid. His wife, worried about her husband, falls deathly ill. As he looks over his beloved wife, who is dying, he finally understands what fear is, for he fears losing her.

With Hans Christian Anderson, we were given such gems as The Snow Queen, The Red Shoes, and The Tinder-Box, as well as other classics.

One children's story by Charles Perrault, Bluebeard, deserves an excerpt here:

"After a few moments she perceived dimly that the floor was entirely covered with clotted blood, and that in this there were reflected the dead bodies of several women that hung along the walls. These were all the wives of Blue Beard, whose throats he had cut, one after the other.
She thought to die of terror, and the key of the room, which she had just withdrawn from the lock, fell from her hand….Noticing that the key of the little room was stained with blood, she wiped it two or three times. But the blood did not go."

Recalling these tales puts a smile on my face, though rereading them makes me wonder how I could have handled all this drama at the age of five or so. Yet I did handle it, and so did you and many others. Despite the macabre and racy stories, I think we all came out at least semi-sane.

I guess now I'll come to the point. Those who want to censor music lyrics, or video games, etc, find themselves in the seat of hypocrisy. These Censors grew up with some pretty "XXX" stuff (oh, these children's stories have been around since the 1800s, and some were written even earlier than that!) and yet have this self-righteous attitude of trying to control what I decide is good for me or for my family. It is just too Orwellian for me.

Thoughts?

2006-01-07T12:59:00.000+03:00

The Usual Suspects

Weddings are spectator sports. A wedding in itself is certainly an event where to "see and be seen" is the modus operandi. We as the audience may choose the engage in the activities or simply sit back and enjoy the show.

I recently attended a wedding. Yes, it was a Kuwaiti wedding. No, I did not have a choice. I will not re-hash the wedding for you all, but instead, will offer a theory as to the characteristics of 3 of the usual suspects attending the female wedding are:

1) The Bride: The wedding day is the bride's day to rule the earth. The fact that there is a groom involved rarely enters the equation in her mind. She is going to have the celebration of her LIFE. And for some, that last statement is really a depressing one: She may never see the light of day again.

She is also nervous, though this usually occurs only twice: When she makes her grand entrance into the room full of her female kin, and when her groom enters hours later (and she remembers, "Oh, yes, that is why I'm in this get-up, I'm getting married to this man").

The bride is usually wearing some dress that is incredibly impractical, but is also fabulous according to some French speaking "designer" who is so exclusive that no one else has ever heard of the label. She is also usually wearing enough makeup to rival a Japanese geisha.

2) The Matriarch: She is the old lady in black sitting on a couch close to the bride. She is usually a Grandmother / Aunt / etc, and has terrible vision, but always seems to snag you as you are on your way up the stage to congratulate the bride. The Matriarch then usually places you in a choke-hold that no professional karate grand master could escape (she calls it a "hug") and proceeds to introduce you to other smiling wrinkly faced women. You must smile back at them, call them "Khaliti" and assure them that OF COURSE you remember who they are, despite the last time you saw them you were in diapers.

Then you are thrown onto the dance floor. This new pressure is itself is enough to induce a heart attack unto an otherwise healthy 20-something-year old. The Matriarch will then stare you down until you begin to shake your hips and the Tina Turner song "Private Dancer" comes in your head ("I'm your private dancer, a dancer for money, I'll do what you want me to do..."). She then smiles to her cronies who all nod approvingly and think "Yes, this one will do well for my nephew Mohammed…"

3) The Attention-Whore: God, I love this girl. The "AW" is the most entertaining girl in the show. She is the snotty little villain you love to hate. The AW sees the wedding as an opportunity to raise her status in this dark underworld, and she will WORK IT to no end.

This girl stands out of the crowd, a difficult feat when you keep in mind that crowds at these weddings are usually wearing neon orange, fuchsia, peacock feathers, and so forth. The AW has spent more time in the salon than the bride herself. She sparkles from head to toe, and matches everything: From the "Little Miss Princess" crown on top of her head to her purse to her shoes, this chick was BORN and BRED OCD (Obsessive Compulsive).

She has the superpower to be everywhere at once. In the blink of an eye, she can be in the center of the dance floor with a scarf around her waist shaking it to the latest Egyptian song, on the stage smiling for pictures with the bride, and cheerfully chatting up all the matriarchs at once. She usually brings her own camera just for pictures to be taken JUST of HER (cameras are her portable mirrors), she is constantly running off to talk on her cell phone (of course she would, she is little Miss Princess, Queen of Popularity), and refuses chocolates with a wave of her hand (Regime, regime!!).

Right before the men walk in, when every other woman is wrapped up in three layers of black, Little Miss Attention-Whore has placed a jacket that simply doesn't cover all of her dress (she paid so much for that tiny piece of fabric, she wants EVERYONE to see it) and so there is a strategic bit of thigh/ cleavage/ midriff exposed. She languishes on a couch in front next to some poor matriarch who doesn't know any better, positioning herself in order to both "see and be seen". Watching this chick is pure amusement.

There are more usual suspects, but I didn't want to go on forever. I'm not a fan of weddings, but there is always a silver lining to every dark cloud, and for me, that is watching these characters. That, and successfully flagging down the lady who is serving the Arabic coffee.

2006-01-03T19:52:00.000+03:00

Holy Coffee-Flavored Coke, Batman!!

So I was ready for the New Year to bring innovative things. I was certainly NOT expecting THIS.

Coca-Cola Co., the world's No. 1 soft drink company, on Wednesday said it will launch a coffee-infused soft drink called Coca-Cola Blak in various markets around the world in 2006.

I'm confused. I love Diet Coke. I love coffee. But there are times when certain things cannot be mixed. (Kinda like how Coke now has a NEW DRINK that mixes the flavors of coke, black cherry, and vanilla. It's too much!!! Stop the madness!)

What is the strangest drink you have ever seen marketed (and perhaps were curiously enticed to buy and try)?

2005-12-30T16:28:00.000+03:00

Back to the Future: Approaching 2006.

1) Santa goes on vacation for 364 days, and it looks like he needs it.

I came across this strange article that gave me the creeps. It's the same nervous feeling I get when I see a clown or a mime. This gives a whole new meaning to BAD SANTA.

A bit of the article: " To a more macabre interpretation of St. Nick… [A] red-suited Santa figure, holding a bloody knife in one hand and a severed doll's head in the other."

I think this artistic piece shows that Christmas is definitely over. Time to take down the lights. Put the tree back in the attic. And hide your children. Santa's after a little more than cookies, right now…

You'd better watch out,
You'd better not cry,
You'd better run now
And I'll tell you why:
Slasher Santa's coming to town…

2) The end of 2005, and the beginning of 2006.

What song do you want to hear on New Year's Eve when the clock strikes 12 Midnight? I'm partial to a classic, myself: The Hex Hector remix of J. Lo's "Waiting for Tonight." It's 11 + minutes of goodness. Sexy as hell, too.

3) The winter season is upon us.

It finally hit me that winter is here. I usually know that the season of cold has arrived without ever having to leave the house. All I have to do is turn on the bathwater, using only the "hot" water, and then step in. If the bathwater is lukewarm (instead of scalding hot), then it's time to turn on the boiler. (We don't usually need the boiler on because it's so freaking hot in this country that the sun heats up the boiler, naturally.)

Turning on the boiler = It's d@mn cold out there.

2005-12-26T00:01:00.000+03:00

Written in the window:

"Your requested URL has encountered an ERROR or is RESTRICTED!

Based on our Islamic, family and social values, Fast Telco is blocking inappropriate content."

This just pisses me off.

2005-12-23T22:53:00.000+03:00

Not a Happy Camper?

Every time I have gone camping, it seems like I come back with at least three crazy stories, two life lessons, and another scar. I haven't gone camping in a while, and over this past weekend I was reminded why with a similar (though shorter length) version: We had gone to the desert.

It seemed like a good idea. Well, that's not entirely true. It seemed like a terrible idea…but I could not refuse an order by the powers that be. Thus, it was off to the land of the sand!

But then, the disasters began. I sent the "disasters" in the form of sms's to my friends:

- - - - -
We had brought over "outdoor blankets" from our old storage place. As the blankets were being unfolded, this ACRID TAINT floated over to our nostrils and we started wondering why our senses of smell suddenly demanded to go on strike. There went any idea of sitting on the blankets.

Disaster #1: 11:16 AM
Text message #1: We took blankets from storage 2 the desert. The cats from the storage peed all over blankets. Putting out blankets now.
Dad doesn't know yet.
- - - - -
We used two cars to tie a tarp, under which there was a nice little shaded area. Then, it started to get really windy..

Disaster # 2: 12:05 PM
Text message #2: Tarp collapses…It starts raining..
- - - - -
We manage to retie the tarp. The wind really starts picking up. Just a note: Wind ranging from 39 to 46 miles per hour is the speed where people have "difficulty walking."

Disaster #3: 1:32 PM Text Message #3: High winds (approx 40 mph) rips tarp from ropes. Fought hard against wind for 20 min…We gave up. Tarp going down.
All disasters r on camera.

As we took the tarp down, one of my 4 male relatives taking down the tarp flew with the material (and he is NOT a small man). The Elements were against us.

Any crazy camping / outing disasters of your own?

2005-12-21T19:43:00.000+03:00

Being Bad Can Feel So Good.

It looks like I am not going to get anything from Santa this year.

It turns out I've been a bad, bad girl.

Remember:

Good Girls Go to Heaven. Bad Girls Go Everywhere.

You scored as Demon. Demon: Darkness is your sanctuary. Demons are many and are all different in appearance and rank. The most common are the ones that feed off of human souls. They love to make someone fall into their inner darkness. Blood, wrath, murder... You name it they love it. These beings don't care who you are, if they set their sights on you, let's just hope you know a good exorcist. They kill any love within you and pull you toward their side. By any means possible. You wish for chaos and hate, you are the Demon.

Demon

75%

WereWolf

50%

Angel

42%

Dragon

33%

Faerie

25%

Mermaid

25%

What Mythological Creature are you? (Cool Pics!)
created with QuizFarm.com

2005-12-19T20:50:00.000+03:00

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way To…

I think I have an overactive imagination at times. I will see one small detail of a scene and get totally absorbed. The scene can still be happening but I'll be staring at the detail.

So I was driving down Gulf Road and was at the stoplight between the scientific center and showbiz. The car in front of me stops short, and I notice that its because four men are out in front of their cars fighting, grabbing and pulling at one another.

I flick on my turn signal and get into the left lane so that I can get at better view.. I mean, so that I can get out of the way…

From what I could tell, this one guy on a motorcycle may have hit a car that had three men in it. I saw a small white car off to the side with a tiny dent in it, and assume this is the story of the incident, but I could be wrong.

But all that doesn't matter. Why? Because the DETAIL does.

You see, the entire time the four men were arguing, Mr. Motorcycle Man had his back to me (by this time, the four men had migrated over to stand in front of my car). There he was, Mr. Motorcycle Man, in black leather gloves with the fingers cut off, a black muscle shirt, and fabulous practically see-through tight white flare pants.

Here is where we come to the DETAIL.

I found myself zeroing in on Mr. Motorcycle Man's butt. Not because I cared for his rear end, but because there was a faint yellowish STAIN that was quite large on the seat of his pants.

I was wondering:

A) Should I give him the benefit of the doubt and believe that the stain was from him sitting down on the bike for a long time, assuming that the yellowish tint was from his sweat?

OR

B) Should I be cynical and *evul* and think that Mr. Motorcycle Man got a little scared when he hit the car (or was hit) and had a little "accident" involving a loss of bladder control?

What do you think?

2005-12-17T14:27:00.000+03:00

I have been tagged by The Stallion. Here is a picture of my desktop. I don't think this comes as a surprise to anyone... :- )

2005-12-12T15:33:00.000+03:00

This is What Democracy Looks Like

The revolution against the Establishment always begins quietly, with subversive murmurs of questions regarding the status quo. It is, as Nibaq once reminded me, the Socratic method. Why are things the way they are? Why is the socially acceptable norm the "right" way? Why are we content with what we have been given when we could have so much more?

There is a social stigma attached to inquiring. We as the challengers of the existing condition will be treated as social lepers of the community, just as our friend Socrates. Yet Dr. Guevara himself had no fear of leprosy, and would specifically seek out those with the disease. Ironically, they were the ones who would teach him so much about life and experience. These lepers knew about the epistemic mores merely because they were castigated by the members of the public sphere. They had a taste of the inner circle (perhaps even of the elite circle), and had later experienced the outer netherworld. Thus, we must approach the subversive, the deviant, the rebellious, and the outcasts with equality, in order to become revolutionary.

In becoming revolutionary, we as the investigators of the status quo will find ourselves on the fringes. Yet as PVD mentions, this is the "Time of Our Lives." We are to " Hold on, let go, get high, stay low, do not give up, so speak shout out."

Protest is an active form of debate. Though I do not condone violence, I do approve of a debate with many perspectives. Just as they did in Seattle 1999. Just as those will do in Hong Kong for the same reasons. They fought and will fight against the establishment, against the so-called "democracies" - the "beacons of liberty". What is forgotten in democracy is that there is not just a "freedom to" do as we please, but a "freedom from" the repression that may be inflicted by those governments themselves. These "democracies" have their classic repressive state apparatuses on standby when we protest, another obstacle in the fight for our rights. They use their formalized institutions of the police, the court system, and their "legitimate use of force" AGAINST their own citizens BY their own citizens. How are we so fooled by the elite in the ruling arena to work against ourselves? We allow ourselves to become comfortable with what is handed to us, without contention. And questioning will begin that contention.

I ask again, why are we content with what we have been given when we could have so much more? This is not a case of greed. Let me ground this idea using the example of Kuwait. There is a single resource here (petroleum) that can be liquefied into capital. In this case, the government in a quasi-socialist manner passing for democracy under the form of a "welfare state" acts as a financial conduit for its citizens. That capital is then squandered away by the masses, buying luxuries and taking out loans for more luxuries: We gladly accept the 200 KD and move straight to the stores, thus perpetuating the cycle of extreme consumerism and purchasing populuxe goods (Cissie Fairchild's term), rather than investing in our futures as a personal investment.

In other words, why are we, as Kuwaitis, so happy with material goods when we have the resources to look PAST THAT into post-material possibilities?

Post-Materialism refers to "an economic philosophy that emphasizes quality of life and environmental sustainability issues instead of earning income and material possessions". Kuwait is a perfect candidate for this. Our sustenance rights have been fulfilled. We still must work on our economic, civil, political, social, and cultural rights. Each of these "baskets of rights" must be inspected in terms of placing them as priorities on our list of questioning. You may feel free to choose, as we have all done either consciously or subconsciously already, what is most important to you. By making that choice in active awareness, we have already begun the process of post-materialism. We then decide, and question present state of affairs.

I do not claim that this is a manifesto. Rather, this is a preliminary beginning, an interrogation of the status quo of both the domestic and international systems. I ask you all to begin your own interrogations into what is known…and what is unknown.

Hasta La Victoria Siempre.

Thank you, Nibaq, for the peer review…

2005-12-08T15:14:00.000+03:00

We all need a daily double dose of Caff:

WASHINGTON (Reuters) -- Coffee and tea may reduce the risk of serious liver damage in people who drink alcohol too much, are overweight, or have too much iron in the blood, researchers reported on Sunday.

http://www.cnn.com/2005/HEALTH/12/05/coffee.liver.damage.reut/index.html

Though the researchers say that it is too soon either to be conclusive about their findings or to recommend higher dosages of caffeine, I have already begun setting up the party…

So drink away and be merry!

2005-12-05T15:50:00.000+03:00

Case File # 347: Dirty Laundry

We all have incidents and accidents with our laundry…And having your laundry done by someone else is always a crap shoot. We are spoiled, with maids to wash our clothes here in Kuwait. Therefore we can't allow ourselves to be blameless. The fault does lie on both sides. But there are times when I think the maids are waging a war against my wardrobe.

It has come to me washing certain items myself.

This had all been brought about when my favorite urban outfitters T shirt that was white turned pink. I do not wear freakin' pink. I asked the maid if she had washed it with my maroon camisole. She pleaded the fifth. I wondered if I had dumb@$$ tattooed on my forehead.

All in all, I was able to revive the shirt with water and bleach and lots of time. But there is always the case of my satin camisole that was ironed and now has a big iron mark on it. Or my wool sweater that shrunk so much it is now a new sweater for the cat. Or my cashmere sweaters that were left upstairs for moths to find. It's always the nice stuff that gets wrecked, you know? Do you have any horror stories?

There is one more issue I would like to discuss. Have you ever sent something to be cleaned, only to not see it for months? I just got back a black camisole with sequins on it that I had been looking for since September. I sometimes wonder if the maids take the items and wear them out partying, and that's why it takes so long to see those clothes again. Any other conspiracy theories?

2005-12-04T12:20:00.000+03:00

Time and Traffic

In Kuwait, situations do not run on something known as linear time. Time blends into space, and numbers mean nothing in regards to location. Time becomes a variable, rather than a constant. Traveling from one place to the next becomes a key part of trying to keep some order in this chaotic warp.

I think most of my time slips away while driving. I know that I live about fifteen minutes away from point B, but because of traffic, it takes about forty minutes to get there. Traffic itself is unpredictable: The only law that it follows is Murphy's Law (Anything that can go wrong, WILL go wrong). I don't understand how this country can be so small and yet it takes so long to drive from one place to another.

There are some areas I try to avoid like the plague: Like 7awalli at night. 7awalli is worse than New York. It's worse than DC. It's worse than Boston, Chicago, and LA all put together. While cruising down some streets in that area, its more like dodging cars than driving. Nobody cares about a few mild bang-up on his or her car, nobody follows the rules, and nobody cares about his or her life.

What are the areas do you try to avoid?

2005-11-30T15:00:00.000+03:00

SMS

Phone texting. You tell the recipient exactly what you need to say in 160 letters and move on. Or do you? For the past 2 hours and a half, I have been smsing about 5 people (perhaps 100 messages were sent and received). I have no had the time to do anything else but reply, reply, reply.

Sometimes I just want to give up and call, but there are extenuating circumstances: Some people are in business meetings, or at work, or with family, etc. It's a great invention, but if you get too involved, there is a time warp that you fall into…or is it just my Scorpio tendencies to indulge?

There is something to worry about when it comes to texting. If you don’t hit reply, and instead insert a number because you had erased their message, there is a possibility that you will insert or type in the wrong number. Imagine sending the wrong text to the wrong person – or perhaps you don't have to imagine, and this has happened to you. Sometimes its funny when you send it to another friend- you just tell them it was for another person and they understand. You laugh about it.

Other times, you are not so lucky. You many have to explain to your Uncle why he got a message saying "What an @$$hole. Fv < k him."

: - S

2005-11-26T15:06:00.000+03:00

When I Grow Up

When do we grow up and become adults? Is it your first grey hair or wrinkle? Is it the moment the maids call you "Madame"? Is it a state of mind? Do we ever grow up at all?

Within the span of three days, people I had just met and was chilling with have said they thought I was 17 or 21. There have also been guesses that I was in my late 20s. I guess it depends on the situation and the topic at hand.

What are some ages people have thought you were?

Will we ever "act our age", whatever that means?

2005-11-23T10:54:00.000+03:00

The VIP is gone!!!

No more lunch guest.
No more being careful about what I say.
And one of the best things:
No more changing out of pajamas for lunch.

When guests arrive, we have to look clean and polished. But when the guests are gone, I usually sidle up to the table in my wifebeater and pajama pants. It's why eating at home is extra nice at times.

What is something that you wear at home that you would never or could never wear outside the house?

2005-11-20T11:21:00.000+03:00

In celebration of being a Scorpio, I've decided to let you all know about a great link so that you can check your own horoscopes and smile:

http://www.astrology-online.com/scorpio.htm

Just click at the bottom to find your own sign.

~~24~~

Friends, I luv you all!!! Muchas Besitas!!

2005-11-18T09:48:00.000+03:00

We have an important guest visiting us from the US. With guests, the etiquette rule is that one should keep it to small talk: Keep it safe, don't talk about politics and religion, and don't say anything radical relating to anything at all. Riiiight.

So the other day at lunch the VIP had joined us along with a friend of the family. At the lunch table we are all trading ideas and stories and the subject of marriage comes up (I think as soon as THAT subject came up, I should have faded. Oh, Caffeinated, will you ever learn?!?!?!) Our VIP guest looks at me and says, "Well Caff, what about you? Aren't you going to get married and have kids soon?"

I gave him my standard answer, a firm but clear general rebuff: "Marriage? Kids? Maybe in 5 to 10 years. But definitely NOT now. I'm simply not ready."

Suddenly, the family friend curtly remarks, "Maybe it's better that YOU don't have kids."

What the heck was THAT supposed to mean? I'm some irresponsible socially challenged deviant? (Okay, maybe that's true…). But I decided to respond because I didn't like the flippant tone used in that comment.

Knowing that the family friend has several children, I smiled and said, "Well, I'm simply not a fan of breeding," oozing with accusation.

I find out later our VIP has six kids.

I have heard of foot-and-mouth disease. But what about foot-IN-mouth disease?

2005-11-14T02:28:00.000+03:00

Within the first minute of a recent job interview, the interviewer asked me "So, you went to [this] University for Grad School. It's a hard school, how were you able to focus on your studies when there were so many Jewish students there?"

Talk about being stumped at an interview. I pulled out the diplomacy (AKA "BS") for that one: "Well, Sir," I answered innocently, "I do not see the connection between focusing on one's work and the ethno-religious background of my peers."

He then launched into what I had expected: A tirade explicating the intricacies of Arab-Jewish relations. Umm-hmm. Very professional. I waited patiently, smiling and nodding, and finally said, "Actually, as you know, [this] University I attended is located in a region that has a high crime rate. I was more concerned about staying alive and getting to school without being mugged or killed than I was about the origins of my classmates."

I am NOT about to bring politics into the workplace (Friends, stop laughing at the irony of this one, you guys know what I mean). I am there to do a job, and its none of HIS business as to what my *personal* political beliefs are. It is neither the time nor the place. And furthermore, I never trust a man that does not have a firm handshake.

What is the strangest or most politically incorrect question you have been asked at an interview?

2005-11-12T15:39:00.000+03:00

My room has recently been invaded by the maids. I usually keep it locked, fearful of them throwing my papers all over the place, discovering the ashtray full of butts (that would mean instant death from my father), or throwing my wool angora sweaters (it's ok, they don't KILL the rabbits for the fur… they just shave them. Calm down, PETA people) into the washing machine so that they no longer fit me, but would instead look great on my 2 year old niece. I'll clean it myself, thank you.

So after I came home from a lovely breakfast with some friends, only to find two maids turning my room inside out. Now it's so clean I feel like I'm in a sterile hospital. I'm scared to sneeze.

The ironic bit is that the maids found the ashtray.. and scrubbed it out!! I guess I'm off the hook…

I'm locking the door when I leave now.

2005-11-09T17:55:00.000+03:00

Coffee Catfight

I was hanging out on "my turf" (any coffee house is home for one who loves caffeine) around 9PM last night and was meeting up with a friend who just got back from vacation. It was a long day, and I had been up since midnight – ah, what we put ourselves through for friends. (But friends are worth it). I ordered the coffee and was catching up with my friend, when I noticed we were being whispered about by two little teenage Kuwaiti girls (you know the kind I am talking about – the ones with 2 brain cells who are fashion plates for the latest 7ijabbi-wear). They whispered, laughed, talked, stared, and glared…openly.

Well F v < k that.

I was not in the mood to be bothered by some bored KIDS almost a DECADE younger than I. I decided to take the low road.

I walked toward them, smiling, and only stopped a few feet away when they stopped talking and looked away. Round 1 completed, 2 points to Caff.

Then, while waiting for my coffee to be made, one of the teenage girls gets her coffee and cake on a tray and begins to walk toward me to take a seat. There was a distance of 4 feet to my right and left, but this one decides to walk directly towards me. I know she's going to "bump" into me "by mistake".

Oh, little girl. Try living in gang neighborhoods in the US. They'll eat you alive after pulling a train on you.

So this girl is heading towards me. I'm ready for her. As she "bumps" into me, I casually stick out my elbow and do a little side push, getting her a off balance. Round 2 completed, 3 points to Caff.

I didn't punch her (as much as I would have enjoyed it), or make her fall (as much as that would have been entertaining). I just rattled her confidence, which seemed to be fantastically high for a young girl who looked like she had just been beaten with the ugly stick.

Her little friend decided to walk away from me to find her seat. Level 3 completed, and The Match goes to Caff.

I don't usually revert to physical violence, on any level. On the other hand, I'm not usually faced with such passive-aggressive malicious action directed blatantly towards me.

If these baby kits decide they want to play with the street cats, they'd better get some real claws.

2005-11-07T12:21:00.000+03:00

A wonderful link was sent to me by Nibaq about caffeine:

http://www.energyfiend.com/death-by-caffeine

It turns out that it will take less than 80 shots of espresso to kill me. It sends me back to exam times in college when I am sure we all pulled those all night-ers.. sometimes several in a row… and I remembered trading off every hour with espresso, redbull, coffee, tea, rockstar, diet coke, diet mountain dew (when is that coming to Kuwait?)…

My first quarter in grad school, I was really nervous about the upcoming exams. During exam week, I may have slept 10 hours in 7 days (it was worth it). As I turned in my last exam, I went straight back home to Kuwait. One the flight, I started hallucinating (seeing red dots) and talking in my quasi-sleep (I asked the poor guy next to me if the methodological methods of social science were ethical). It was a BAD TRIP.

What was one of your worst trips?

2005-11-06T08:15:00.000+03:00

A Cause for Celebration?

My neice calls me Ama Fofi. It took us a while to figure out why, seeing that my name does not coincide with either the letters or the syllables. Ama is the Arabic word for Aunt, of course. "Fofi", as we found out today after she spilled an entire cup, is her word for coffee.

I am Ama Coffee. I kid you not.

I think it's time to do some research on addiction.

2005-11-04T10:21:00.000+03:00

Beauty is something that is subjective. We all have our tastes.

I'm going to limit this post to the purely physical (we can talk about OTHER attractive attributes later – now focus with me). There are some physical characteristics of the gender we are attracted to that just make our heads turn when you FIRST see him / her. It can be something that is such a detail, we might not even notice it until our best friend points it out: "Have you ever noticed you always go after guys / girls that have X, or look like Y, or that are Z?"

For me, there are several things I find attractive, but to keep this short, I'll only give you one example of each. (Though this isn't absolute. Exceptions are always made, and we all know at this age it is not really about the physical.)

Let's talk about men first. I like naturally pointy eyebrows. The ones that make the guy look angry or mischievous all the time.

And as for women (we may all appreciate a good looking woman), I think I like a good haircut. When a woman has long hair, and its just beautiful and healthy, you just want to reach out and touch the tresses.

What makes your head turn?

2005-11-02T11:11:00.000+03:00

There are rarely things to do here in Kuwait. But I have one suggestion that might actually be more on the PC side of things than my usual ideas. Does Kuwait have a Comedy Club? Not that I know of, yet (please tell me if there is one!!). Sure, there are musalsalat, and gahwas and dinwaniyas that are forums for laughter, sometimes…but I place them in different genres than I would a pure comedy club.

We need something that features a stand up comedian. One person performs twice a night, a different person every day. English and Arabic performers. It would make a bundle. Anyone want to open up a Comedy Club?

PS-
For anyone who has friends in the US (or England, etc), this is a little reminder that Daylight Savings Time has ended, and so the people there have moved the clock back one hour.

2005-10-31T07:30:00.000+03:00

Happy Halloween!!

This year, a few of us dressed up in the necessary wear and infiltrated the underground world of lies and deception. Hey, it was for research purposes, though our vision and taste were partially impaired, and our sense of smell was zift. It had sociological significance. And it had nothing to do with Halloween.

So for Halloween, I'm going to be a gypsy...I heard it's all the "rage" now.

It's one of THE BEST holidays ever. What are YOU gonna be?

2005-10-31T03:02:00.000+03:00

I'm looking for a good picture. I think I have finally found one. It all works out like this. I'll post again with a real post. Sorry to be ghetto y'all. We all need a bit of Southern flava sometime.

2005-10-30T02:46:00.000+03:00

Tags. I see what you all mean now.

10 FAVORITES
Favorite Color: Black
Favorite Food: Coffee can be a food.
Favorite Month: March (ultrafest!!)
Favorite Song: Hard to choose.. can't do it.
Favorite Movie: Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels
Favorite Sport: Soccer. It's all about Man U and ROONEY.
Favorite Season: Spring
Favorite Day Of the week: None yet.
Favorite Ice Cream Flavor: Sugar free anything. Sugar is a gateway drug to harder substances.
Favorite time of Day: After lunch

9 CURRENTS:
Current Mood: Chillin
Current Taste: nicotine
Current Clothes: a wifebeater and jeans
Current Desktop: Sunset
Current Toenail: no toe fetish here
Current Time: 2:39 AM
Current Surroundings: Ashtray, Diet coke, and the cat.
Current Thoughts: I would rather sleep than think on my feet

8 FIRSTS:
First Best Friend: SJ
First Kiss: M.
First Screen Name: name/ yr graduated. TMI
First Pet: Cat
First Piercing: Ears
First Crush: Kindergarten
First Album: Garbage

7 LASTS:
Last Cigarette: 30 min ago
Last Drink: Diet Coke.
Last Car Ride: With a hot chick next to me.
Last Kiss: There will never be a "last" kiss
Last Movie Seen: Pulp Fiction. Recently.
Last Phone Call: F

6 HAVE YOU EVERS:
Have You Ever Dated One Of Your Best Guy/Girl Friends: Yeah
Have You Ever Broken the Law: If you don't get caught, it doesn't count.
Have You Ever Been Arrested: Nope.
Have You Ever Skinny Dipped: hmmmm.
Have You Ever Been on TV: Yes
Have You Ever Kissed Someone You Didn't Know: No thank you.

5 THINGS:
Thing You're Wearing: Undershirt and jeans
Thing You've Done Today: Had a wild night with the girlz. Broke a few social rules.
Thing You Can Hear Right Now: Guys driving around in their motorcycles
Thing You Can't Live Without: Passion
Thing You Do When You're Bored: Yawn*

4 PLACES YOU'VE BEEN TODAY:
1. Sooq Sharq
2. Lenotre
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3 PEOPLE YOU CAN TELL ANYTHING TO:
1. F.
2. M.
3. F.

CHOICES:
1. Black or White: Black
2. Hot or Cold: Bring on the heat.

1 THING YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
Own a library.

2005-10-29T01:20:00.000+03:00

INDULGE

You know you want it. You know you like to do it. Those guilty pleasures we like to hide...that feel oh-so-good.

I like my caffeine. I like my nicotine. I like Power Puff girls in the morning. And I like reading Cosmo.

What do you like to indulge in?

2005-10-28T04:16:00.000+03:00

Caffeine, as we know, makes one use the bathroom quite frequently. And as an avid coffee drinker, I have been to may fair share of public bathrooms and have seen some funky stuff go down in those places.
A few months ago, I was at Marina in the women's restroom, which was empty save myself and the bathroom attendant. Or so I had thought. As I made my way to the stalls, I heard a couple of hacking coughs and a woman in her mid forties came out of a stall, and proceeded to wash out her mouth. She had just thrown up.
The signs were all there. The acrid taint of the air, the bloodshot eyes and the snifflely nose…well, it happens to the best of us. I had chalked it up to some bad food she ate and proceeded along.
She took her time cleaning herself up, and by the time I was exiting, she was leaving the restroom as well. She rejoined a table of three other ladies as they were dining in Lenotre, full of smiles and proceeded to continue eating.
I was taken aback. As I made my way back to my friends who were sitting in Starbucks, I thought about the situation. If I, or any of my friends had just thrown up, our automatic responses in rejoining our table would have been to divulge the fact that we were feeling sick, or in the least, we would stop eating the meal that had made us thrown up. Then again, that is IF she had thrown up on ACCIDENT. There had been a calculated restructuring of the face (Kuwaiti women and makeup.. its quite a process in itself) after the fact. The pieces all fell together. This was not an accident. She had done this to herself. She had thrown up for a reason.
I'm talking about bulimia. Those who wish to "diet" do so at their own risk…and women here in Kuwait take that to the extreme. Rather than eating healthier foods (yes, olive oil is healthier comparatively speaking with other oils, NO, that does not serve as an excuse to DOUSE your salad with it), or smaller quantities (who needs 8 servings of rice at lunch?!?!) or exercising (the mamshas are really not that bad, they are free, and the weather is nice now), the choice is made to punish the body. The choice is made (I believe, though I may be mistaken), because it seems "easiest", or because they simply don't have the resources to know any better.
Has anyone else noticed this? This isn't the first time I came across something like this. We all know WHY it occurs...it's a self-control issue. That's fine and dandy, but I don't think they know that throwing up can burn your internal organs slowly, leading to feeding tubes and other "accessories" if you will that do NOT have the "LV" symbol on them. Or that they don't know that bulimia does not guarantee weight loss, and some actually gain weight that way. Or that bulimia is a disease.
What ever happened to those Kuwaiti Public Service Announcements? Before the war, we all used to sing along to those: "La, la, la...hatha ghalat...hatha baladna ma tabeee…" It may be necessary to re-start those.

2005-10-26T18:10:00.000+03:00

And so it all begins.. day 1 .. and I have given into the peer pressure of the blogger world. Peer pressure's a b + < h. We all know that.

So let me use this initial attempt at posting to explain the title of my blog. For those who are reading this without much background knowledge of Latin American political-historical affairs, the quote "Hasta la victoria siempre" was said by an Argentinean man named Ernesto "Che" Guevara about 50 years ago. He was around my age when he began a journey into the world outside his own surrounding community and began to take in those new experiences into a context that involved something missing in the prefabricated structuralist bureaucratic manner the most institutions cling to: humanity. He rebelled against the conformity of an isolationist elite that refused to allow power to be shared, and he wanted to allow all to know that they must realize the inherent political voice (to determine their own socio-economical fate) they have simply by being born.

Without going into details (though feel free to ask), he was brave, humane, inspirational, down-to-earth, and ahead of his time. His dreams had been cut short for him, and as his ideology live on elsewhere they have become a twisted policy under which everything he had been fighting against had assumed power once again, using the veil of Che's own words against him.

His original ideas, though, are to be respected for what they meant to him, and thus what they mean to us. His legacy still lives on as his face is everywhere, and though his story is often given in short edited blurbs, he is still remembered as the symbol of revolution across time.

I think we all need to be politically involved in our youth. What's a few years living on the fringes of society when we are young? Though it is true, it may be more "efficient" to be, as Lyndon Johnson said, "peeing inside the tent rather than being outside the tent peeing in," it is also to be remembered that at our age, it is fighting against the institution that matters. Once we have learned its tactics in dealing with its adversaries, as we get older it is our next task to learn its internal strategies. After the system has been infiltrated, true change may occur.

Change is necessary and inherent. Living in a society that is averse to change is akin to watching a stubborn anorexic teenager starve herself. Though the analogy may be lacking in scale, it is the flabbergasted helplessness by which we stand as confused observers that I wanted to capture. And in the case of a community that turns its back on reform, we as the observers are more lucky in that case, because social evolution is one in which the observer may turn into a participant. Thus the situation may be redirected as we are not helpless, bit simply apathetic.

Apathy seems the be an epidemic amongst many here, simply because it is the easiest choice to make. Yet as wars of humanitarian intervention cannot be won without gaining the confidence of the indigenous people, we too amongst the fringes must rebel while maintaining our own community's hearts and minds in this cultural endeavor of revolutionizing society. "To the victory...always."