Food & Movies

Can you think of a movie that doesn't include a food or drink scene?
In a lazy family hangout yesterday, after a brunch of fool (which explains the thickness in the head) we spent hours trying to come up with movies that do not have food/drink scenes.
Our search was not successful.
صج ما عندنا سالفة

I think I have an obsession with food, among my other obsessions of course. But at least my food obsession is justifiable. It runs in the family. Even among my friends food is a constant topic of discussion.
ناس فجعانين كما يقول الوالد العزيز

My sister just proved me right in the middle of writing this post when she asked for dessert in the same breath that she's telling us she's leaving to have lunch with friends. faj3aneen indeed.

Now this cheesecake is right in front of me and I'm finding it hard to resist. I'm hoping my mom wouldn't offer me a piece. I know I wouldn't say no.

Are you often trapped into saying yes when what you want to say is no? Why would you say it? Why would you agree to do something when you wish to disagree? Or are you one of those unyielding people who never bend?

A day at Om ElMaradim

Weather was great. Company fun. Music just right.


N looking for shells

Y enjoying the water

Feet bathing in the sun/sand :)

Thank you Y & A for lending us your boat.

Galatea at Mishrif

I just came back from Mishrif, where a group of young men and women performed an adaptation of the Pygmalion/Galatea myth. It was a fun show; light, humorous, and entertaining. The music was well-chosen and lively at times. This is a group of amateurs who seem to have put a lot of effort to present us with this show.
I forgot to take my camera so these here are not good quality pictures.
The show is on again tomorrow, Thursday, at 8. if you get the chance, go watch it. It's a 1 hour show worth your time.

Unattainable Freedom

Stillness and silence drenched the atmosphere. The only sounds that broke that silence were the pounding of her heart and her uncontrollable panting. Her chest heaved and fell restlessly. Shaking on the outside but frozen on the inside. Her eyes were fixated on the innate figure that lay unconsciously before her. She did not dare blink, in case she lost sight of him. Is he dead? Not a chance. Was this her chance? Her chance for escape? Can she escape? Possibly. But…. Did she really want to? She wasn't panicking but she was utterly confused.
After a while of thinking…'processing'… she finally built up the courage to take a step forward. Nothing happened. He did not move. Another step. She was close now. Closer to her freedom… and closer to him. Her chains clinked as she moved slowly. She kneeled down beside the motionless figure with a single thought on her mind… keys. She noticed his bulky pocket and could not help but feel a chill of excitement! Reaching for his pocket her heart sank. She could feel the keys… clutching them, she withdrew her hand gently with a jingle and quickly retreated to her former position.
She fumbled with the keys hesitantly until…Click! Unlocked. Freedom?! Immobile, she gazed at the door…then the corpse. Should I tiptoe? Not wanting to waste any more precious time thinking…she rushed for the door…the exit…the opportunity. And as she was passing, the figure unexpectedly seized her ankle and toppled her over. Still clasping her ankle, he pulled her underneath him and lay on top of her.
"If I didn't know any better I'd say you didn't like it here"
He smirked.
She squirmed.
"You're not going anywhere…I promise you that."


*story by Disturbed Stranger
Part I: Reluctance vs. Submission
Part II: Subconscious Desires
Part III: Not Surrender

Higher Ed Coaster

Sometime in April, I contacted Higher Ed to process my son's papers. They tell me the admission letter is not enough and I should contact them again when his High School diploma is out so they contact DC to get the final approval.
Early June. Diploma ready, I submit all his papers, only to be informed that they could've contacted the Cultural Office in DC with his admission letter only (Now did they not know that before?). I am told to wait a week or two for a reply from DC.
After 2 weeks of constant phone calls to a line that is mostly not answered I find out that there is still no word from DC.
Doubting, rather too late, that they might not have even sent the papers, I call the Cultural Office in DC only to hear that they have not received anything regarding my son. I ask whether I can fax them the papers. But of course they need an official cover letter :)
I contact High Ed this morning ready to flip at them (I hold my peace knowing that would only get them even less cooperative) and they confirm that fax has been sent, showing a paper with a stamp "faxed" as proof. Yup. Proof indeed.
It's almost mid-July and we leave the country early August.

This is the easiest chapter of my life on a roller coaster.

The rest is too roller coastery for a blog :)
So I leave you with silly jokes.



Who Why do the French eat snails?
Because they don't like fast food.





What do you say to a dead robot?
Rust in peace pieces.





And a by-now family classic:
Why is six afraid of seven?
Because seven eight nine.

Not Surrender

Surrender. Is it an option? She would never consider it. She never gave up on anything. But being there… in his arms… so close. The closeness… It was different. NO. It didn't matter, she was held there against her will. A prisoner. A prisoner of her own thoughts. A prisoner to her own feelings. A prisoner.
He looked at her blank face staring into the distance behind him. Her pupils dilated. Her lips slightly quivering.
"What's on your mind?"
Nothing. No reaction. She did not budge.
"Hey," he gave her a light nudge, "you look at me when I'm talking to you".
Again, nothing. She did not respond…or did she choose to ignore? He looked at her and smirked. He knew how to get to her. He knew how to provoke her. He knew he knew her. He moved his lips closer towards her, she flinched abruptly. He stopped for a moment… then slowly moved closer, shifting his lips previous aim for her lips, to her ear. She froze. His hand lay on her waist, pressing her closer against him as his other hand clutched one of her frail arms. Then he started his despicable game. Whispering.
Minutes passed… she grew unstable. Twitching. Wriggling. Struggling. His hand released its firm clutch of her arm and decided to tame her, finding its way through her upper body… and finally resting on her neck. A firmer clutch. His thumb stroked her cheek caressly. She was uneasy and his whispering was getting to her… trying her patience… she couldn't take it anymore…Enough! Suddenly she gave a loud cry and pushed him back with all her might… And with a loud thud he hit the stone wall and fell to the ground…

*story by Disturbed Stranger
Part I: Reluctance vs. Submission
Part II: Subconscious Desires