When I first got to Jeddah, things were very confusing.Weekends are Thursdays and Fridays, whereas I come from a part of the planet where the weekends are Saturdays and Sundays.
But that’s not where I got confused. I got confused one time when I went out hunting for some lunch. To make it clearer, I will underline the problematic areas.
On my way to TGI Friday’s on Andalus Street, I passed Ruby Tuesday. My first thought was: “Damn, how time flies!” After the meal, my friends ordered an ice cream sundae and shit got very confusing for me. Technically, a sundae at Friday‘s is like having a Lebanese weekend on a Saudi weekend.
In any case, I really think that TGI Friday’s and Ruby Tuesday’s are too close to each other. They are right across the street from each other. In order to be fair to the new expats, I say we should move Friday’s and Tuesday farther apart. I say we need to keep some distance between them.
At least 3 days, I suggest.
I hope I didn’t confuse you.
I hate dentists with attitude. They act like they’re some sort of god. As if they have some higher status just because they’ve been inside a mouth or two.
I was at the dentist’s, when, out of nowhere, he says, “You don’t floss obviously.”
Alright. Come on man! It’s our first date and I let you put your whole hand inside my mouth! Could you at least be nice to me?
It’s the attitude: “You don’t floss…obviously”
Ok, you’re a dentist. It’s your job, you can tell I don’t floss. Don’t make it sound like you have some sort of superpower or clairvoyant abilities. I can’t look at a regular human being and say “you don’t floss obviously”. You can! But you don’t have to show off, asshole.
You don’t hear me say “You obviously don’t know the difference between sandstone and limestone, obviously!” Gimme a break!
PS: I have a B.Sc. in geology.
The movie Cloverfield completely devastated me.
Images of it have been haunting me since I first watched it. Sometimes, I remember some detail and sink back into the dark place that the movie took me to. This is, by far, one of the worst movies ever (emotionally speaking).
Tonight I uncovered the reason why this movie has caused me so much harm. It’s one simple fact:
Everyone that I — the viewer — associated with eventually died.
This has to be the single worst ingredient in a movie. There’s no lack of horrible movies, or apocalyptic movies. But how harsh a movie is depends not on how many people die in the movie, but rather on who dies in the movie.
Continue reading “what makes a disturbing movie”
It’s no hidden fact that Lebanon is a country built by the hands of generations raised on Picon Cheese. Lebanese people adore the cheese. Expats take it with them when they travel.
In the diaspora, Picon is a reminder of home. Picon is a symbol of Lebanese identity. Picon is both a fashion and a status statement.
So why not look at Picon as a metaphor for Lebanon? It makes sense:
- Picon‘s packaging shows snow-capped mountains in the background and green pastures in the foreground. To the Lebanese people, these might as well be the Cedar Mountains and the Bekaa Valley. Lebanese people always brag about how their country allows you to ‘go skiing in the morning and swimming in the afternoon’. The Picon package testifies to that.
- Open the pack, and you will find yet another symbol for lebanon. On the outside, it’s a round pack with beautiful scenery. But open the pack and you will see that it contains divided portions. Yes, collectively they make up Picon, but they are divided units that happen to be together inside the pack. They have to coexist due to circumstance, which, against their will, has placed them together inside this pack.
- Each portion is individually wrapped. Like Lebanon, Picon is made up of individual portions wrapped in a manner that does not allow them to interact with each other. They don’t touch. They don’t communicate. They just sit together inside the box that looks very beautiful on the outside. They like to think they’re different from one another; maybe they’re fooled by their gold-colored wrapping?
- Don’t forget to store Picon in a cool, dry place. Because Picon, just like Lebanon, will go sour if things heat up.
- And lastly, Picon likes to believe it’s French. The reality is that it’s actually manufactured in an Arab country under license from France.
I admire man’s thorough pursuit of advancement in wireless technology.
Modern man’s complaining that all his technology is crowding his humble home with wires, causing fire hazards and aesthetic imbalance and whatnot. His next step in technological development was, naturally, to go wireless.
Bluetooth, Wi-fi… wireless headsets, mics, tvs, computers, telephones. Man wants to get rid of the wires.
It seems we’ve gone about full-circle. From caveman, most of whose entertainment was “wireless” (e.g. drawing on a wall, or playing with pebbles, or something), to ultra-modern man who is, dare I say, equally bored, and whose entertainment is also becoming “wireless”.
Once again, man is inventing in order to go back to basics. Need is no longer the mother of invention… Yearning is.
I love Lego.
And what made me love it even more was the origin of the name.
Created in 1934 from the Danish phrase “leg godt,” which means “play well,” the name LEGO was later found to mean “I put together” in Latin—the perfect description for this beloved children’s toy company.
Lego has always been with me, growing up. It also resembles what I love to do the most: to break down ideas and reassemble them. I love you, Lego.
On some days
I wear my goose bumps
and step out into the world
carrying my fragility
like a weapon.
I step out
into a war I didn’t start.
A war I can’t end.
It’s easy to break me.
But when I break I shatter
of hand-painted glass.
I will slice the hand that broke me.
When I break,
(because I do break)
I can’t be put back together.
Well, maybe I could,
but I won’t look like I did before.
Maybe I’ll look better.