Thursday, July 28, 2005

Shopping


When I go lingerie shopping two things I hate most; one is having cashier men instead of women, the other is seeing couples shopping together.

I was doing some sales shopping today and when I was at the lingerie section I found a mid aged typical Kuwaiti couple. The man held a fuchsia satin piece embroidered with black lace and asked his wife why not get this satin piece? His wife told him tenderly:

ماكو من هذا حبيبي، شسوي بعد، شسوي

As I was behind this man I thought he’d feel embarrassed or something after seeing me but he didn’t. He kept examining the goods so I changed my mind and left.

Why wouldn’t the wife get to know her hubby’s favorites from magazines and catalogues?!


Monday, July 25, 2005

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

Repeat after me

نداء للصامدون على أرض الوطن
نداء للصابرون على عرق البدن
نداء للحالمون بجنات عدن

Repeat after me
الدنيا ربيع والجو بديع
الدنيا ربيع والجو بديع
الدنيا ربيع والجو بديع
الدنيا ربيع والجو بديع

Who said NLP works? It doesn't!

I can't breath!!

Sunday, July 17, 2005

heffff




I hate it when I get used to people; all kinds of people. People I like and people I don’t like much. It’s what they call it in Kuwaiti (el 3ishra) and in Egyptian (3aish oo mal7). It is strange how you feel it with people you didn’t know you cared for.

My first cry in public was when I was 10. She was my English teacher who came for a short period of time to practice teaching. The day she told us that it is time to leave I found myself shedding tears. I remember feeling miserably sad and shocked by her leaving. I loved her so much. You know how some teachers were strict, others may beat, but that teacher was an angel. Maybe because she was still young or still practicing; all I know is that I loved her so much and so did the rest of the class.

I cried too when a fellow employee wanted to leave. His contract was over and there was no renewal. I was feeling sad that I’d miss him being around. But what made me shed tears is when I found an enveloped letter on my desk from him. It was hand written and the content was dramatic. I couldn’t hold my tears and started crying at work. And by that I don’t mean tearing only but crying; crying like a baby.

I feel this way too when I think of traveling. I can’t bare the thought of leaving home, my family and my room. Oh well, even my bath room. I even miss home even when I go to chalet. Some times I spend many hours outside home that I start to miss it. I feel depressed when I think of traveling. I feel choked with tears when my parents drop me at the airport. I still haven’t cried at such occasion. Maybe because I am always emotionally prepared unlike sudden events like the ones mentioned above.

I feel like crying when I see my nephew laughing. I feel like crying when I see my sick grandmother lying for what seems forever in her bed. I feel like crying when grandpa doesn’t remember who I am. I feel like crying when I see my best friend happily married. I feel like crying at weddings even if I didn’t know the bride and groom. And when it’s the wedding of people close to my heart, I feel numb.


My nephew’s hug without me asking for it; is the best thing that ever happened to me. I miss kissing his tiny chubby hands, biting his tummy, and tickling the bottom of his feet.

I miss O, who used to clean our WC at work. It stinks now.
N, I wish you ignore those ignorant people at work; I don’t want you to have a heart attack.
A, I wish he becomes a real man and appreciate you.
Myself, I wish you make up your mind.
I wish to know if my childhood nanny is still alive.


heffff (A Tweety-like kinda heffff)
I hate posting such posts.

Saturday, July 16, 2005

The Haunted House (2)

My friend’s idea was to visit the cursed house. I thought that she was only joking or trying to scare me, but I was wrong. My friend had already decided and packed her stuff for the wild trip. At first, I thought that it was a silly idea, but then I realized that by this trip I will be able to prove her wrong and assert my scientific realistic theory; that there is no such thing as a ghost or a demon. And finally after her long nagging; I agreed. I wanted to free my friend from the worry and fear she lived in.

The big day had come. We packed some food and water. My friend surprised me with a knife hidden in her pocket in case of a ….. I did not know! I guess she wanted to feel safe with a simple weapon. I told her that a knife can not kill ghosts since they aren’t made of flesh and blood like humans. My intention was to tease her but she took it seriously and stole her father’s gun. I took my diary to make sure I’d write down the state of mind my friend was in so that she would laugh at herself after discovering how foolish she was.

The time has arrived, so we started our five meter journey to the old deserted two story house. Our first stop was the external gate. I stood there watching the view of the inside garden; it looked stunning. The grass was tall, and the trees were scattered here and there. It looked unorganized but I admired the greenery and wondered how it survived the hot climate. Despite the trash thrown all over the place, I imagined that with a little gardener’s touch it would’ve looked like paradise. At that point my friend Salma started saying her prayers as a protection from demons so I did the same. I had to take my precautions in case she turned out to be right.

After we were done with our prayers, Salma climbed the gate. She did it skillfully because she was an acrobat. As for me, I was like an 80 year old crumbled old lady with heavy bodily fat. My friend of course started to make fun of me as I tried hard to hold on to the fence. I didn’t want to fall, neither to break the gate. Climbing up the fence seemed easy but landing on the floor took more time. I couldn’t just jump. What if I broke a bone or something. So after strenuous effort I landed safely on the ground. I took a deep breath and started my discovery.

The Haunted House (1)


Friday, July 08, 2005

My Face is my Fortune



Where are you going to my pretty maid




Where are you going to,
My pretty maid,
Where are you going to,
My pretty maid?

I'm going a-milking, sir,
She said,
Sir, she said,
Sir, she said,
I'm going a-milking, Sir,
She said.

Shall I go with you,
My pretty maid?
Shall I go with you,
My pretty maid?

Yes, if you please, kind sir,
She said,
Sir, she said,
Sir, she said,
Yes, if you please, kind sir,
She said.

What is your father,
My pretty maid?
What is your father,
My pretty maid?

My father's a farmer, sir,
She said,
Sir, she said,
Sir, she said,
My father's a farmer, sir,
She said.

What is your fortune,
My pretty maid?
What is your fortune,
My pretty maid?

My face is my fortune, sir,
She said,
Sir, she said,
Sir, she said,
My face is my fortune, sir,
She said.

Then I can't marry you,
My pretty maid?
Then I can't marry you,
My pretty maid?

Nobody asked you, sir,
She said,
Sir, she said,
Sir, she said,
Nobody asked you, sir,
She said.


Note: Some people didn't get it, maybe they were too lazy to read it fully :P
So I highlighted the main points there. Hope you get it dude!

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

Shrinking

mem


Remember when we used to shrink images and save documents on disks?
Remember the piles of disks on your desk? Remember how long it took a disk to show files or to open them?
Aren't you glad that those days are over?
I am thankful for the invention of memory sticks.
They are small. They save and show files fast.
CDs were discovered before, but CD burning takes time too.

Information storage space shrunk from a room to a 5cm piece that you can hide in your pocket or hang as a necklace.

Don't you wish some other things shrink as well too?
Your car for example? So that you don't have to worry about finding a place to park?
Your bum?

w



Or maybeee your man?

m



Who knows, maybe the translated saying "Her husband is her ring" becomes real?

The Haunted House

haunted-house-1

“Ghosts are the creation of fictitious minds”; that was my belief until I visited the haunted house which has always been an attraction to me and my friend. She used to tell me countless stories about people going to that house and disappearing afterwards and stories about survivors who managed to get out but were obliged to go to psychiatric help.

I used to mock my friend for believing such foolish stories. How could an invisible thing exist, and even if it did, why would it harm innocent people. I just could not accept that thought and tried hard to get it out of her mind but she just would not listen. She was predetermined and stubborn.

My friend lived next door to that house with her bedroom window over looking the house; a thing that caused her haunting fear day and night. She surprised me one day by suggesting an unexpected idea…


to be continued

Monday, July 04, 2005

I Love my Shoes

I went to AL Koot shopping mall. On my way in, one young lady with her two friends were yelling at 3 young men who seemed to be flirting with them. All I thought was "this is just the beginning, what will happen next" as I was intending to roam around alone.

All was fine, no body bothered. In fact no one even looked in to my eyes. Why? I didn't know. I was just glad that I shopped safely. On my way out, a guy said: " wesh hal jooty?!". That's when I knew the secret and realized that my big bulky sneakers didn't fit in.

***


I liked how the fruits and vegetables area was neat and clean. So I took my camera and started shooting. Sellers there were so happy with the camera and wanted to show up on each picture I took. They were so co-operative. I bet they thought I was a journalist.



fruit3




fruit2



fruit1



I like the water melon shot the most

Welcome to