Of Jiggly Jars & Powerful Pygmies.

Life Lesson #218: Sometimes being a pygmy comes in handy, like when people use you to sneak out jars and files out of a hospital. None of the giants could see you, and you feel like a super midget with a cape and all.

Life Lesson #219: Maybe you can’t hold someone’s life in your own two hands, but you ‘can’ hold their death. Literally. They’re not that heavy and they smell of formaldehyde. They’re jiggly too. And no, I’m not talking about a dead chick’s boobs. Man I wish I was.

Life Lesson #220: Lying is not that bad. Not all the time. It comes in quite handy sometimes, you just have to be good at it and make sure you’re legit so you don’t get sued by a paranoid cuckoo-head. Oh and did i mention that  you have to know how to do it? Yeh.

Life Lesson #221: Knowledge is power, and power corrupts.

Life Lesson #222: Cooking is a way of showing love; because nothing quite says i love you like the artistic deforming of another form of life by utensils that were formerly used as a medieval form of torture closely followed by slowly dehydrating and frying the last shreds of life out of it as you munch the dead goodness in loving union. Not to mention the fact that nothing quite ruins a facial like pulverized hydrocarbons.

Life Lesson #223: You do not appreciate what you have until it’s almost gone, just like i didn’t know how much i used the ‘m’ letter until my keyboard refused to type it and now i have to punch the life out of it just to write my own name. This goes out to uncles that vicariously live through you and have quite a knack for punching you in the shoulder while still under. My joint doesn’t feel so important now, believe me.

Life Lesson #224: You ask for a blade and all you get is a pepper spray with a pink army print. Moral? Not so sure anymore. Because, well, if life gives  you a toilet pump you just gotta sport it with attitude, pretend it’s a Grammy and hope everybody had a glass too many. Otherwise all you get is a plugged toilet and a bad prop, even by high school drama teacher standards.

Like Father Like Daughter.

Daddy, having gotten back from work and headed off to bed, was a little surprised seeing that i grabbed a torch and ended up headfirst next to him on the bed with my books. He found out when his right heel bumped into my nose.

“Next time, I’d rather you re-locate your nose, i was just falling asleep ya moftareya”

“haha aww sorrryyyyyyy my nose got in the way of your foot, terribly sorry”

“You can turn on the lights if you want”

“Nopies."

Then, half an hour into it, I find him chuckling in his sleep.

“What. Haha what? what?”

“When i had troubles focusing with my work i used to grab my books and study under the bed, under the couch or under my desk. Sometimes I used to grab a cardigan and sleep there too. And when it got too hot i used to put ice cubes on the floor in front of the fan.”

“My god you’re ancient”

“Ana mozz”

Then my mom asked the most pivotal question.

"How old were you? 10?”

“..f Sanaweyya 3amma.”

Of Microwaving Ice Cream and Other Cold Stuff.

Life Lesson #214: They all play the outsider card at one point, and then they start wondering why you’ve changed. Well, excuse me, but when it’s my ego that’s lined up against trivial shit, then don’t be surprised how that equations turns out. Everybody knows which is the constant and which is the variable here. However, it kind of hurts how they ALL end up using the outsider card. It does, but then again it’s my fault. I’m always the outsider.

Life Lesson #215: Never, ever, under any circumstance, microwave ice cream. It just doesn’t work that way.

Life Lesson #216: “You’re gonna catch a cold, from the ice inside your soul.”

Life Lesson #217: Tomorrow’s gonna be okay. Tomorrow’s gonna be just fine. Yes. It’ll be great, and nobody’s gonna get hurt. Nobody’s gonna die. Yep. Nobody’s gonna die. Everything will be okay. Everything will be just fine. Yes. Yep. Aywa.

Life Lesson #213: You don’t need pants for the victory dance, cuz baboon’s better than weaaaaaaaaasel.

Friday The 13th

Life Lesson #210: Don’t ever tell Friday the 13th to bring it on and proceed to call it bitch if you can’t take how it’s like in bitch mode.

Life Lesson #211: Don’t think you’re badass enough to think you can take Friday the 13th in bitch mode.

Life Lesson #212: You can NOT take Friday the 13th in bitch mode.

tb ma yalla kefaya nas tmoot, fekra?

That Box.

I’m not dead yet.

I’m a little dysfunctional don’t you know? if you push me it might be bad. Get a little emotional, don’t you know? You might fool around and make me mad.

I don’t usually write about politics on my blog, but what happened yesterday is downright scary. My mom is slightly freaking out and bringing up the whole immigration topic again. Can someone please tell the salafists to stop doing that because I really really reaaaaaaaally don’t wanna leave? If that’s what a stupid chaotic congregation can do, I don’t wanna see them when they actually start to get the hang of it. That’s 4 churches in 5 months.. I’m hoping my mom’s just tripping.

Why Grandma Is Hotter Than Marilynn Monroe.

Life Lesson #201: It’s not really about stopping the need as it is about shifting the source of its satisfaction, well at first it isn’t, at least. A psychological bypass, if you may. Because choosing to walk away is not the easiest thing in the world, especially when you’re used to being on the receiving end of that bargain, but this is one of those things you gotta do for yourself, to get better, in a way that only radical action can force.

Life Lesson #202: When your grandma has her top on with its insides out and she still manages to think she’s a mozza after you’ve pointed it out, strutting her stuff as she sets it straight, then she’s fit to be an idol more than Marilynn Monroe in all her glory. Now that’s confidence, in my book. That’s also where my dad came from, no wonder there. <3

Life Lesson #203: None of this probably makes sense to you. And oh i’m so glad it doesn’t.

Life Lesson #204: There’s no sense in going out of your way for people, because they wouldn’t do the same for you. Then all you’re left with is a psyche derailment and the knowledge that somebody took a bite out of your cookie. You don’t want that. Hold on to your cookies people!

Life Lesson #205: If Karma’s a bitch then it logically follows that being an asshole is the only way to have good things happen to you. Asking why it has to be that way never helped anybody. Why would you wanna learn how to cook if you live with a chef? But then again the only fair implementation of the whole karma theory that i’ve come across in my 18 years of existence was when my perverted geezer of a twice-removed relative got me a can of pepper spray. I hope he chose his favourite flavour.

Life Lesson #206: I checked my call durations register today. The way my dialled and received call durations were paralleled is, if anything, comforting in a disturbing way. I couldn’t have gotten it to be like that if i tried. It got me thinking. Then i came up with the theory that there are three types of people out there.

Dialled > Received: Those are either businessmen, your average blonde chick or just people who are clingy as fuck.

Dialled < Received: Divas that everybody wants to talk to, somebody who’s temporarily abroad and is a cheap asshole or a 10-year-old whose mom presented with a cell phone as an elaborate tracking device.

Dialled = Received: The people that keep this planet habitable for the sane minority, an autistic, or an oblivious fuck with his automatic redial enabled.

Life Lesson #207: Whoever said that it’s not the mountain we conquer but ourselves has probably never experienced an infarction.

Life Lesson #208:  Hindsight is for people with a backbone.

Life Lesson #209: When three religions, two philosophical concepts, one mythological creature and an Accio charm fail to retrieve your lost glasses; what in the name of loony bins are you gonna do when it’s not the glasses you lose?

Of Cons, Cramps and Chemistry.

My day is upright again! Don’t jinx it tho, go rub off on every wooden surface you can get your hands on or summat. It feels nice sleeping at night. Well, it feels nice ‘sleeping’. Period.

But then again that’s what italian food and chemistry corundum oughta do to you if you give em a chance.

The realization that I’m sitting my sanaweyya finals pretty soon is starting to hit home. It’ll probably let on, so i’d rather not elaborate just how psychotic i’ve become, let you make your own assumptions and hope to god you’re an oblivious moron. K? :)

Waking up at 6 is nice. It’s quiet and chilled, almost de-stressing even. I get me-time, exercise-time, shower-time and coffee-time and still get the day not to start off on the wrong leg. And my head is accepting the transition since i’m usually awake at this time anywho. I’m pretty sure there’s a small partition of it who doesn’t know what the hell is happening tho, and i’d like to keep it that way for as long as i can.

My tummy hurts.

Remember that old vagrant from the older post? The one that fell down and cried and nobody else helped? Yeh, turns out he scammed us. According to the empathetic janitor from the other side of the street, he’s been doing that to people for sometime now and his heart went out to the sight of us jumping to his help. What happened to the world? Emotional extortion has hit the streets now. I don’t regret helping him, i probably would again knowing that he’s pulling my leg, because that’s what it means to be human. But why? Why does it have to be that way?

Arabic songs don’t suck as much as i thought. Well, not all of em. There are a couple who have potential, if you give three of your five senses a break, a lollipop and a local anaesthetic to the functional couple. OR, just watch em sleepless or high. Most of em look like a visual hallucination anyway. What’s with the arm flailing? Unless you’re a genie, that’s not excusable.

What do you do when you wanna cut your hair AND not murder the afro? Hm.

Nah, I’m keeping the afro till it decides to fall off of its own accord. I like having an entity with its own separate willpower nesting on my head. Landmarks me when i get lost, and i get lost a lot. Might save my life one day.

Cramps. Fuck cramps.

Of Fits, Lemons & Audrey Hepburn.

It was a weirdass day, but then again aren’t they all? I’d been studying chemistry for over 14 hours, because that’s the average you have to hit a day if you wanna get a decent outcome sanawyya-wise, and I had one of em infamous break downs. I started laughing hysterically out of the blue for 15  minutes, then simultaneously cried. My dad looked at me like a total nutcase over his coffee and tried to bribe me with ice cream, and my mom confiscated my chem books and promised never to go to sleep and leave me unescorted with chem again. It was interesting, i gotta admit. I must’ve been one hell of a sight.

We left for chem class then on the way back, this old man fell down in the middle of the road. We got out and helped him and he gave us his supply of lemons in thanks. I’ll never forget the sight of him laying down there on the road, crying with his bag of lemons all over the place, his cane on the other side of the road and everybody just drove by without a care in the world. It was not until my dad got out and helped him up and we stayed there till we made sure he’s okay that three or four random people decided to be philanthropists and gave him money and water. Why would people be so cruel? Why, when they can, and might I add without that much of an inconvenience, help someone? He was in pain, he must have gone through a lot and being homeless at that age is just 7aram. Nobody helped him. I can’t believe it. Why wouldn’t they? Why the hell wouldn’t they?

By the time I got back home I'd been sleepless for god knows how long. I watched a bit of Audrey Hepburn’s ‘Two For The Road’ that I downloaded, because old movies have that soothing effect that no antidepressant can quite provide. Life was so peaceful back then, so real. People were happy and grounded. It was not all about sex, religion and getting what you want out of people. It was about people. Real people. I can’t quite explain it but I can’t seem to find that many roaming my vicinity anymore, and I’d rather blame it on the era than my own sanity. Sue me.

I woke up a couple of hours ago, and am not planning to start working before daylight cracks. And I need a shower and a walk. And ice cream, I need ice cream.

You Know You’re In Sanaweyya 3amma When..

#1 : Refer to previous post; you miss the royal wedding studying chapter 3 and 4 then halfway into 5 they kill bin laden.

#2: A friend measures how bad her break up was, not on a scale of 1 to 10, but by prolonged study hours and timing average per chapter.

#3: Two pages into gravimetric analysis, you realise that the volatilization and precipitation calculations can be used in preparing homemade bongs and knowing just how much meth you wanna put in there without having to write your will.

#4: You stop using second clock hands and use page numbers instead.

#5: You haven’t slept for more than 4 hours in a row in over a fortnight.

#6: Your precious half-hour study break is spent watching a documentary about tapeworm diet, and a 20 feet long one too, and you actually enjoy it because there’s nothing else on TV and because you’re just that desperate.

#7: Your only online contact is a fellow drudge, and you spend online time mutually moping albeit making sure that the other bastard hasn’t finally done it.

#8: You find that the smell of books are becoming quite an aphrodisiac.

#9: You commute more than a blue collar on an average Monday who lives cross country and has two jobs.

#10: Your only outing is a variable at the end of the week in another governorate.

Ooooh, I Could Die.

Oh How I Wish I Was Kidding.

Ya3ni eh sanaweyya 3amma? Ya3ni you miss the royal wedding studying chapter 3 and 4 then half way into 5 tla2i Osama Bin Laden et2atal.

Who Needs Anti-depressants When You Have An Unlimited Internet Connection?

Fact #1: Microwaving coffee is viable when you can’t work the steamer on the espresso maker and still wanna look badass in front of your dad. He’ll never know, that is, as long as you use thermo-treated mugs the will not blow your cover by exploding into smithereens and thus subduing the pseudo heating buzz.

Fact #2: Lady bugs, over years and years of evolution, have developed a liking to coffee. And who could blame them? If i may add, it literally sweeps them off their feet. And being an animist, i had to turn the poor little creatures back on their feet and carry the flailing brutes to the ledge where they could fly away to the vicinity of a stranger’s coffee mug by karmic powers and ruin it for him.

Fact #3: Equipped with the right amount of dissing potential and available movies, anti-depressants will eventually be the most un-used item in the pharmacy after a condom in the middle east.

Saved By The Bell.

It has been a productive day so far. The sweetest thing happened this morning and it’s made all the difference in the world. A good friend of mine sent me a text message at 8:40 am, I assume before he headed off to college, reminding me to start working because it’s the 1st of May and he wouldn’t wanna see me flush my life down the toilet for underestimating the last detrimental month. He reminded me that “ma3lesh hayetla3 deen ahlyk bas hat7ebbi el gam3a”.  Psychically enough, at that exact moment, i’d been lying in bed, staring at the ceiling after almost 9 hours of failed sleep trials and non-existent studying ones. Laura, you were right, people do only see stuff when it’s been pointed out by an outsider. I’ve had my dad telling me to get grinding already for over two months, but it didn’t quite ring a bell until it came from somebody who cared even tho he didn’t have to. I woke up today at 6 pm, chilled for two hours and have been studying chemistry ever since, and am planning on resuming the all-nighter with the same zeal. A text might have saved my career, because yes, I’m just that much of an impressionable idiot.

I Should Have Stayed Mute When I Could.

Life Lesson #190: I need to not pick up calls more often. I should stop being such a Sidney and start being a Tony for a change. Everybody's being a Cassy anyway. Skins much?

Life Lesson #191: Trying to fall back asleep is just like trying to get coffee out of a banana. It just doesn’t work that way. Not even THAT way.

Life Lesson #192: It was right about the time that I googled 'how to archive my tweets' that I decided I should've gone on that camp last summer. However, it wasn’t until I chose not to click 'don't track my own page views' on blogger because i’m pretty sure 89% of it is my doing that i realized something’s seriously off. Then I had coffee and it wasn’t that big of a deal anymore.

Life Lesson #193: Come to think of it, i don’t think i would have minded the fact that everybody’s an asshole if i was one myself.

Life Lesson #194: What’s the use of studying when we can all shift our genesis to arachno- and inherit all the info? Or is it because we’d have so much time on our hands that we wouldn’t know how to deal with it and wish we had the lifespan of that little bugger along with the genes as well? Doesn’t it follow that work is there for entertainment? What kind of sick cosmic joke is that? Not funny.

Life Lesson #195: ‘Every lame movie is exponentially funner when you have more important crap you're supposed to be working on. Same goes for the royal wedding. Ana 7assess belli enti feeh.’  -Dad.

Life Lesson #196: Face your fears; operate the espresso maker.

Life Lesson #197: It was right about the scene of the dude vacuuming his dad’s cremated remains off the floor in that retarded after-hour movie that i decided i wanted to get buried. There goes my cremation prospects.

Life Lesson #198: I’m an idiot. And yes, that’s one of those genes that procreate yet don’t acquire.

Life Lesson #199: Kneecap bruises are the worst. Even worse than the memory of slipping on Beano's wet floor when you’re pretty sure everybody saw your butt crack.

Life Lesson #200: ‘Randy, why are guys creeped out by random i love yous?’ - ‘It's just like 'I'm pregnant' except that they can still run after you.’

FML Recap.

So first I lose my favourite cyborg glasses, then I get no compassion for not being sufficiently blind, then I sprain my wrist for the second time in a week looking for them under the bed, then I get bawled out for being attached to them as if I’ve just ruined my quest  to Nirvana by clinging onto materialistic objects, I get re-berated for daring to complain when I already have a spare.

I lose my phone for three days and nobody calls in to check if I’m still roaming their dimension.

Not to mention the fact that two days ago I found out that my first car, which I’m not getting before a year into college, even after a plead of ‘dad please don’t kill my social life and raise my odds at a motor holocaust’ vs. ‘this is the safest for when you get in a car accident’ is gonna be a…wait for it…Fiat 125.

Yep. This baby right here.

oh how i wish i was kidding.

Just Let Her Pee Already!

So i was standing at the window, like i always do when i end up not getting any sleep at night and after 9 hours of pure agony, and i accept the fact that i’m a zombie and watch the sun come up as i rest my head from pondering the various ways in which i screwed the dying day as i get my fix from whatever poison i choose at that moment; comforting myself by the fact that i’m contributing to the world by lessening its storage of that inanimate object, and muse my philanthropist spree with spacey, nonetheless misplaced, pleasure.  i can never quite get tired of the scene. i live in a quiet safe neighbourhood; one of these places that might have been the love child of a suburb in the outskirts of Vaucluse and a metropolis somewhere off the charts in NY.

Everyday, at exactly the same time, this old dude in beige uniform and snow white tufts of receding hair, walks his dog, a female Alano Español that looks like a housewife that’s been demoted by karma into a four-legged form. He has that way of walking, one you might expect of Frodo as he wears the cloak and ends up walking into a semi-permeable pissed ghost; just floating there, looking at everything and not necessarily seeing anything. And every single day, the poor dog sniffs and staggers at exactly the same spot as he stubbornly drags her along. And just like that, every single morning, i get the urge to scream out at him all godlike and holler-y from a high uncharted place to friggin let the dog pee where it wants to pee! It really likes that bush! Even ‘I’ can see that, someone who lives in the building all the way on the other side of the street on the second floor, and you’re the one holding her leash goddammit! Why do you have to make her so miserable? Could you have any idea how big peeing it is to her? That’s all dogs do, eat hump and pee, you’ve eliminated 1/3 of the cornerstones of her life. If you can take out the time to wake up early and go out of your way to walk your oh-so-beloved dog, you might wanna let it pee where it likes every once in a while, because, you know, that’s like, THE WHOLE POINT TO TAKING YOUR DOG OUT FOR A WALK YOU SICK CLUELESS BASTARD!