I would know, considering I fell off of the edge and returned..
Seriously feels that way. I honestly don't know why I stopped blogging. There is plenty to blog about.
It's senior year baaaaaaybeeeh!
(Random but I had to write it *hopeless*)
I have mixed feelings about that. Graduation needs to happen. Since my last post, I've moved to the dorms and have been commuting back and forth between Qatar (where my folks moved) and UAE.
Dorm life has been different, nothing like what I imagined it would be. It has its ups and downs but in the end its just like any other roller coaster ride, you just have to sit back and enjoy cuz when all is said and done and you find yourself back home you can be sure you'll miss it like hell.
Senior year seemed so far away till it finally came around, now it seems to have come from no where and it's got me thinking. Thinking the notorious senior question "What comes next?"
Normally a senior ought to be thinking of where they want to work, we have to choose a company to intern at this month. I want to intern here in UAE, not sure which emirate if I did. The option is open to intern in a company in Qatar. There are plus sides to both and while the decision is unimportant enough to flip a coin on, I think I might go with listing the pros and cons and pretend I'm one of those super responsible folk who actually put deep thought into things like that.
I'm bored. God damn the thieving pig who stole my PS2, all its games AND the memory card (may they be triple damned just for that).
I'm seriously clapping my hands in applause - like seriously. UAE dives down the rabbit hole and The Royal Kingdom of Saudi Arabia dives in right behind 'em. I hope the royal court of hearts has enough tea down there, its going to be a looooooooooong winter.
I used to hide away and only try to save myself From falling in love or staying up on the shelf I was afraid to walk the streets alone or by your side Just waiting up for something that could save my life
No, there's no way out, stuck inside my head now Headed for a break down when I should be headed for the door
'Cause I found out there's no such thing as a miracle, a miracle And I know you can't hide, it's the shot heard 'round the world Lights out, there's no such thing as a miracle, a miracle But baby don't cry, it's the shot heard 'round the world
If we could light up every street with our cellular phones Then maybe we can save ourselves or maybe we won't But it doesn't even matter if we got no plan As long as you're holding on to somebody's hand
Because a way out, stuck inside your head now But I know we can break out if we can all just step outside the door
'Cause I found out there's no such thing as a miracle, a miracle And I know you can't hide, it's the shot heard 'round the world Lights out, there's no such thing as a miracle, a miracle But baby don't cry, it's the shot heard 'round the world
I'm gonna kiss the sky tonight, maybe you should try it I'm gonna learn to fly tonight and you're invited 'Cause all the things that we've become are making me so fucking numb And this time I have had enough Goodbye and say hello to the end of the world
I found out there's no such thing as a miracle, a miracle And I know you can't hide, it's the shot heard 'round the world Lights out, there's no such thing as a miracle, a miracle But baby don't cry, it's the shot heard 'round the world Lights out, there's no such thing as a miracle, a miracle But baby don't cry, it's the shot heard 'round the world
Disclaimer: I don't own this song. I just thought the lyrics suited my mood perfectly and wud serve as the perfect post for this sucky month. Thanx s for sharing.
» Knows what I'm thinking even when I don't say it
» Knows when to lecture
» Trusts me
» Feels comfortable enough to confide in me
» Comfortable with me confiding in them
» Doesn't block me out
» Takes me seriously
» Can forgive me if I wrong them
» And if they can't forgive, at least hear me out and allow me to earn back their respect
Those are the first things that come to mind, I'm pretty sure their is more.. Maybe I should start my own reality game show like Paris and Brody (Ha) - I wonder how long the winning contestants lasted as their best friends..
This is the commercial featuring Saudi Prince Abdullah bin Meteb that has Saudi undies in a bunch. People ought to save their complaints for things that actually warrant complaining..
The jumping horse brought someone to mind. Controversy aside, I'll dedicate this post to K ;) Enjoy =)
This is our classroom for e-commerce, its also the classroom for several other classes. When we had our e-com exam that wasn't there - I would know, that's my place. After exam week I noticed it. UoS-er's should be ashamed, if you are going to cheat at least try to be a little less obvious with it. (Though i guess if they were that dumb to need cheating in the first place they wouldn't be smart enough to be creative about it)
When I go to the grocery store to shop and allow the bag boy to bring the cart out to the car and load my purchases into the trunk I usually tip - that is when I allow them to 'cause most times I just take the cart out myself. It's pretty much an unwritten rule with me that those guys get whatever coinage change I received from the cashier.
When I tip for other services though, like getting air put in my car tires or getting the front windshield washed (without actually getting gas) I usually pay 5dhs in coins - never a bill. (Bills always feel too much for a tip.) It feels wrong to tip less than that though. The way I see it, to tip less than 5 is like an insult both ways. Makes the tipper look cheap and the tippee (probably not a word but who's really keeping track? Anywayz just think employer and employee.) a creature - not even human- unworthy of a decent tip.
So the night before I had gone to this full service gas station - it had everything, Mc D's, Baskin Robbins, Dunkin Donuts and the normal gas station convenience store. It was mother's car and the windshield was insanely filthy. I'm not even sure how I made it to the station in one piece but yeah I had decided surely filling the gas tank would merit the gas guy going ahead and washing the windshield. Somehow he didn't bother doing it and I forgot to ask (I was busy trying to wake up little Annie, who was asleep in the backseat, for Mc D's ice cream - which was the reason we had gone out in the first place.) So I was done paid for the gas and everything then pulled into the Mc D's drive thru before realizing that I hadn't gotten the windshield done. The drive thru line was pissy long and it was a while before we finally got our order. In which time I had deeply contemplated the windshield and tipping issue. See, if the guy had done it when he filled the tank then I wouldn't think to tip. But now I'd have to go back and get the windshield done and if it were the same guy who filled the tank then that wouldnt be a prob. No tip. But if it were a different guy - which it was, he wouldnt know that I just filled my tank there and I'd have to tip. I had already spent 72dhs in gas and only had 2 dhs in coins - I had bills but seriously I wasnt in a very tipping mood since the window should have been done when the gas tank was filled. So now I was wondering should I even bother tipping. Long story short, he got 2dhs and I drove off. It still bothers me though, evidence in fact that I'm blogging about it...
I'm really not in the mood to post, but being the 31st and I haven't posted a single thing I felt the urge to at least post something for record's sake (since June/July 2006, I haven't missed a month..) So here you guys are: meet Pong, the evil moo moo cow - El Hazard's moody alter ego.
I haven't felt like blogging of late (obviously, lol). I've kinda been enjoying the freedom of not only being liberated from summer course but also my arch nemesis : Business Mathematics. Yes, I can hardly believe it myself (ALHAMDILLAH) that I finally - somehow- managed to pass BM. I gotta hand it to the professor though, he was a bad ass at explaining. Way better than the previous two lady professors I had. I almost wanna believe the sexist saying that male math teachers are the better of the sexes.. big exception will be made for BW - of course, cuz she had the power to make me understand lots ;) But yeah, I'm glad that's behind me.
Mostly since the end of summer course I've been playing tennis, loads of PS2 soccer (football to the rest of the world) - I found this option where u play in this like career mode and you get to create your player including his name and appearance, kinda like SIMS. So yeah I kinda got addicted to it and play everyday.
About the only productive thing I get done is attending art classes in the mornings (w3, I am so not a morning person). Its fun though. We're learning so much cool (useless) stuff. We also take Arabic calligraphy. I like that alot as well. It calms me down when I'm moody.
I've decided (though I haven't actually done anything yet) to go back to Quran classes and seriously memorize. I figure its about time I got holy and did something that would help me in the afterlife. I'm looking forward to that inshallah. I miss the feeling of doing something that actually matters.
In other news, I've been job hunting. Unemployment doesnt suit me =P I scored an interview for Sunday. Khair inshallah.
I found an interesting story about my favorite sportswear company, Adidas. And then read a very retarded story in Gulf News. I mean all these copyrighted things still make tons of money and there will always be people out there who have to have the originals of certain things and will still put money into those things even if they already have a downloaded version. (I mean sometimes I have the original of something and I go and download it from torrents or whatever so that I can use it on my comp/phone/ipod, whatever makes life easier) They should stop being such tight asses about it and live their lives.
Lastly, I'll leave you guys with a Fares Karam clip. Its music, and while I dont usually listen to music unless its like on tv (which is where I first heard this clip) or whatever, I found the lyrics so cute...
And by the moon the reaper weary, Piling sheaves in uplands airy, Listening, whispers, " 'Tis the fairy The Lady of Shalott."
She knows not what the curse may be, And so she weaveth steadily, And little other care hath she, The Lady of Shalott.
All in the blue unclouded weather Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather, The helmet and the helmet-feather Burn'd like one burning flame together, As he rode down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide- The mirror crack'd from side to side; "The curse is come upon me," cried The Lady of Shalott.
"Who is this? And what is here?" And in the lighted palace near Died the sound of royal cheer; And they crossed themselves for fear, All the Knights at Camelot; But Lancelot mused a little space He said, "She has a lovely face; God in his mercy lend her grace, The Lady of Shalott."
My eyes are on the verge of burning they are so tired. Go figure, today was math day. I can't understand the inherent fixation some teachers have with making things seem more complicated than they already are.. and some are quick to lay the blame on the gender factor in this equation but that is so not it. I mean seriously, those who say that females never teach math properly are dead wrong. Like the math professoress (not sure if that's a word but I really dont care at the moment) I had last semester was a hardnose but she was good at what she taught, left us feeling pretty secure - and yes I know that would leave some wondering why the hell was I failing it that time if she left us feeling so secure. It was my own personal fault though, nothing to do with the teacher or how she taught.
All week, or maybe more like all month, I’ve been in a pretty crappy mood. I mean for all intents and purposes I shouldn’t be.. Today wasn’t much different – or rather I should say, started the same as almost every other except it didn’t quite end as I thought it would.
S is studying some medical related major and this semester the course requires them to learn how to draw blood from patients and test it and stuff. She’s been really psyched about it for ages and I volunteered to be her first lab rat. When I was a kid, the mere thought of getting an injection at the doc’s set me off. I hated going to the doctor with a passion simply for that reason. And when it did happen, they usually had to call in the nurses to hold me down - such was my dislike for injections. I even carried on for finger sticks. I just didn’t like the thought of a sharp object piercing my skin. And yet, if someone had told me back then that I was going to voluntarily let a friend draw blood I would have said they were totally BSing.
So S asked me the night before to wear an abaya that she could access my arm easily. I obliged, though it still hadn’t set in that she was actually going to be drawing blood. All month she had been saying she was going to but like every time, something would come up. This morning I wore a ‘blood drawing friendly abaya’ and went on to uni. I don’t have class till 11 so S came and hung out for a bit while I worked some math probs. At quarter to 9 she said we’d go to the lab – and we did. The moment we set foot into the Health Science building I felt those familiar dead/dying butterflies weighing heavily in the pit of my stomach. We get into the room and its all ‘medically feeling’, then S decides to show me the dummy arm (I think she said the med students named it Sam..) they use for practice. I’ll add a pic of it to this post. I saw that and was seriously freaked. That’s when it finally set in that I was to be her FIRST… UNO... AWAL. “Dear God,” I thought. “It would be so classless and uncool if I backed out on her now.” I touched Sam’s arm (his skin had a pretty rubbery feel to it and kinda on the tough side.), and the weirdest thought came to mind. I had already decided that I’d let S do my left arm in case anything went wrong and I ended up paralyzed for life – I’d forgive her of course, but it was just in case. The thought that was on my mind was if any coach would allow me to play tennis even if I couldn’t actually toss the ball to serve and if there were any tournaments would I be allowed to play. I mean I’d have no problem receiving the whole game with no service of my own.
Ok, so by now S has gotten a key to the medical cabinet containing all the needles, tubes, gloves and all that other stuff. I watch as she gets a white tray and begins neatly piling her blood sucking paraphernalia on it. I’m hella nervous and start talking, I mean really talking cuz that’s what I do when I’m nervous. While S was preparing, a classmate of her’s comes in with another eager volunteer in tow. So S and classmate begin preparing together (they were both extra extra cheery – almost humanly impossible cheery for so early in the morning). So us lab rats waited it out, I knew I was nervous but I wasn’t quite sure about the other girl.
Finally S asks the classmate to go call the teacher (since this operation has to be supervised). The teacher arrives and has a few words with them about their preparation. She tells them they need to put more things onto their trays. Like instead of one tube, needle, syringe thingie, band-aid, and cotton, they needed like 3 of each (In case anything was to go wrong for any reason.. my heart skipped a beat, not the type of thing I wanted to be hearing after seeing Sam’s arm..)
Anyways, classmate and her first victim decided to start things off. I couldn’t really see what went on over there but after a few moments classmate was apologizing profusely to the volunteer. I prayed S had steady hands and held my breath knowing I was next. S came over, tied a tourniquet thingie to my upper arm and admired the visibility of my arm veins. The predator and its prey came to mind. Then the teacher came over, had a look and gave S some last minute pointers while S rubbed the spot with an alcohol swab. S then picked up the needle and syringe and began fixing the needle on it. Somehow during that process the cover on the needle popped off and there was this HUGE ass needle point staring me in the face. It was bloody HUGE and I might have thought I was exaggerating but I could actually see, very clearly, the hole in the tip of the needle where my blood would be sucked through. Right then I decided I couldn’t look. I turned my head, shut my eyes really tight and clenched my teeth. I told S to just tell me when it was all over.
Just when I thought she would dive in, she paused, and wiped the spot again with a swab and dabbed it dry. Then there was a sharp prick, hurt for like a nano-second. It was in and for no logical reason I decided to look. – for a split second. I watched that deep colored vein blood go into the syringe thingie. I’m not really a fan of blood so I had to turn away again. She finished, took the needle out gently and the teacher pressed a fresh cotton on.
Relief, it hadn’t hurt as much as I thought it would and thank the Lord I didn’t end up like poor Sam.
That over and done I left the med lab to the comfort of the lounge in the business building. There were clusters of students scattered about socializing, but I didn’t really know any of them despite sharing the same building. So I decided to use my iPod to kill off the remaining time till class. I was playing a pretty intense round of Vortex and listening to my favorite AlSafi tracks when I felt a hovering presence. Some one was trying to get my attention –which surprised me but it turned out to be my math classmate M.
She’s a really sweet person, though I haven’t known her that long. She only just started speaking and hanging out with me like week before last, despite the fact that we’ve been classmates for nearly 6 weeks now. But hey, I guess that’s something since I can’t really say I know any of my previous math classmates or even my current ones save M and her friend.
Anyways, we were chatting online last week and she asked me why don’t I socialize at uni more. She said, we only live once and life is boring if we don’t have someone to love in it or enjoy things with. We have to live, love and laugh. I’d say she was having a philosophical moment but that is the way she is. She’s just one of those people that make you laugh with her even when you’re feeling extremely crappy.
So we talked for a while before class and she helped me understand the concept of tax in demand and supply functions. After class we parted ways and I went to AUS. I was supposed to meet another S there and go home. (LOL funny thing is I met a totally different S there than either of the first mentioned Ss. This could get confusing. First S will have to be SR. Other S will be SK and the S I bumped into unintentionally will be SS) ok so SS and I chatted for a bit while I waited for what truly seemed like forever for SK. By the time SK finally showed up I was feeling really drained and just wanted to go home so I could dive into bed.
That didn’t exactly work out as planned. I got home and laid down, but just couldn’t sleep. So I decided maybe I’d work a few math problems. Math book was in my bag with my laptop and when I went to get it I ended up getting out my laptop, setting it up and using the net. I never made it to the math book. SK wanted me to come over to her house, which isn’t that far from mine, but I told her I couldn’t even move off the bed much less think about putting on outside clothes and going out.
I laid there for a few hours and then a little after 5, Z msged me and asked if I wanted to join her and some of our teammates to play tennis at 7:30. The thought was daunting in itself. Not only would I have to get up, but change into tennis attire AND somehow get to the club. That didn’t take much thought, I replied and politely declined the well meaning offer.
I continued laying in bed till M’s words randomly came to mind. “Live.” By definition I believe she means go out and have fun / make life worth living. “What have I become?” I’m the one always scoffing at those who can’t handle a bit of work in the mornings/afternoon while still maintaining a healthy amount of activity in the evening and yet here I was just like one of them – dying from the little bit of morning uni. Long story a bit shorter, I managed to extract myself from moping about in bed and got to the club by 7:15. It was fun. Hell it was a heck of a lot of fun. I ended up laughing so much my sides hurt.
Wow, I started this post days ago and then got so busy with uni I never got around to publishing. I suppose I hadn't finished with it, but I dont remember what else I had planned to write and I certainly don't feel like even being bothered atm.
"Wedding bells meant the Mexican fast food chain Taco Bell for Paul and Caragh Brooks. Customers inside the fast-food restaurant continued to order tacos and burritos as the couple sat in an orange Taco Bell booth and exchanged vows earlier this week. The entire wedding cost about $200, with the couple deciding to wed at the restaurant because they both like to spend time at their local Taco Bell."
These, my friends, are real Americans. Fun-loving, adventure seeking, mavericks. Not out there harming anyone or defacing anything to get their 5 minutes of fame. It maybe true that we dont share the same faith, but I sincerely hope they have many years of happy marriage and hold true to their vows.
Why is it easy to start things, yet so hard to end them?? I could write pages and pages without so much as a thought but then come closing time I end up staring blankly at the screen/paper.
I took a break from Llewellyn to write a short story. I wrote it in less than a week, which was good and fine but now I've been stuck with how to end it. It's been a month now and I'm tempted to just stop with one of those open-ended endings but my last short ended more or less like that.
I like to finish things, I mean if I start it I should finish. When writing full lengths it gets frustrating though, after weeks and months passing without being done, so I break and write shorts just to satisfy that need to start and finish something.
My problem this time is that I have too many ending ideas and can't decide on which one to choose. :: sighs :: I guess I have no choice but to draw lots on this one..
I'm not sure which I hate more; ingrates, snitches or those who don't have the balls to behave like normal people.
Having said that,
My stepbro is an ass.
It is definitely to his good fortune (and he ought to thank his Lord a million times over) that I am bound by my very own personal code of ethics and can't swipe my fist across his face simply for being a most detestable creature.
Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all of his time flat on his back.
The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation.
Every afternoon, when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.
The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside.
The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite details, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine this picturesque scene.
One warm afternoon, the man by the window described a parade passing by.
Although the other man could not hear the band, he could see it in his mind 's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.
Days, weeks and months passed.
One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.
As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.
Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window besides the bed.
It faced a blank wall.
The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window.
The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall.
She said, 'Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you.'
Epilogue:
There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations. If you want to feel rich, just count all the things you have that money can't buy.
'Today is a gift, that is why it is called The Present .'
I didnt write this. It was a fwd in my email and I thought I ought to share ;) I hope you guys enjoyed reading it =)
My title choice suddenly reminded me of a show I used to watch as a kid. The show was called,"My Secret Identity". OMG I just looked it up for the link and found out Jerry O'Connell was the lead boy I had this SUPER girly crush on (haha despite being a major tomboy as a kid I always managed to maintain crushes on members of the opposite sex). Gosh that is such a blast from the past, after I post I'm going to go find the original episodes.
So anyways, I was surfing and came across this vox post about obama and the question of him being arab or not. Generally, I dont care about the details of his life but the post seemed interesting. It was. I loved the way the author pointed out those two facts that ppl often get wrong. It was logical and made lots of sense, I think even the likes of McCain and Paris Hilton could understand from the way it was broken down. If only all americans could be so 'enlightened'.
"What the flip?!?!" Is the first thing that came to mind when I saw the ad. Who in their bloody right mind would pay $3.99 to smell like a freakin burger, let alone a whopper???
"The scent of seduction with a hint of flame-broiled meat." is how Burger King is advertising their new men's perfume. And here I thought the end of the world was near when I had to sign in to the oldest MSN messenger because the net has been acting like an ass due to "cable trouble in the mediterranean".. But back to the subject of seductive scents, I truly pity the male who goes out and secures a bottle of that stuff. Wallah what do they see us females as?! Awina we're some carnivorous animals that can be seduced by a male that smells of spray-on artificial beef patty (Not to say that we'd go for a guy that smells like real beef patty either).
The maker, campaigner and buyer of such a retarded product should all be shot.. Or better yet, doused in their ingenuity and placed in some lion/tiger/meat eating animal infested safari. Haha let them seduce the wolves and the vultures can have the leftovers!
.jpg)
