Smoking and عمارة يعقوبيان

So smoking is not allowed in closed public areas in Kuwait, right? Or am I wrong? Wasn't Marina Mall smoke-free when it opened? Can't one go shopping without having to put up with arrogant selfish smokers blowing their fumes everywhere. They seem to be encouraged by the mall too since they have those huge trashcans/ashtrays scattered everywhere now. I can't enjoy sitting outside in restaurants anymore in Kuwait since sheesha's becoming a fad with everyone and it's ruining all those otherwise pleasant outdoor areas.

I just finished عمارة يعقوبيان and I don't seem to find it as interesting as everyone was telling me. Somehow when I haven't read Arabic in a while and then pick it up again, I don't seem to be able to enjoy it. I know people would argue that the language is rich and more poetic, but I can't seem to find myself into it as much as I do when I read an English book. Well, that's not always the case of course. Occasionally I do find books that are gripping and hard to let go of, but in general I think I am more receptive to English.

Pindakaas

So the setting was much better this time. Darker and simpler. They still insist on the school-style guitar figurines at the corners of the stage, but they're not too noticable. So Nazzal, you were partially right. It's not that we lack aesthetic appreciation. It's just that we are simply a "Don't give a damn" people, an "I don't wanna bother" nation. Music was good. Light and easy-going.

Nino's pasta was even better.

And spending time out with my sisters was even bester.

Syrian Rock

Last night I went to Kelna Sawa in Meshref. Cultural activity in Kuwait. Such a stretch from the Sarah McLachlan and Tori Amos concerts. The music was good, but the setting is 80's school days. The majlis elwatani need to employ some people with taste to take care of presenting those artists. Why do Kuwaitis, or is it Arabs in general, pay so little attention to presentation. Whether it's our food or our music the general trend seems to be that its the content that matters. Why this lack of interest in appearance? Looks do matter. When are we gonna learn that? Our cuisine could use a great deal of improvement in that. I mean seriously, machboos or ghozi are so ugly-looking. And now our music, or the music presented in our theatres, seems to be served as un-stylistically as our food.

Am I rambling? Kaify it's my blog :)

My stitches are finally removed. I can start exercising in 10 weeks, and heavy swimming in 6. Not too bad.

Hodgepodge

Still no internet at my house so my visits to blogville are meager. Have a few hours online only and that is when I'm at my parents' house next door. Used to be online 24/7 so this is new to me. But I think I'm liking the break.

What got into my head that I can go shopping a week after a major surgery? I hate staying home so I ventured to the movies last night and that went fine. From the car to Fanar movie theatres is not much of a walk and the seats there are comfortable enough for me to relax. So today I thought I could go shopping. Nothing major. I needed trashcans, ended upp buying a desk and bookshelf for my son. I thought Landmark for a short stroll won't be too bad. WRONG. My right leg and arm hurt like hell right now. Some numbness accompanied by some muscle aches. It might be the effect of the anesthetics or maybe the blood loss.

So what to do tomorrow? Should I listen to my body and stay home? Or can I venture into a leisurely hangout at a coffee house? We'll see.

There's a planned trip to Europe in 3 weeks. I have a list of reasons why I shouldn't go. I still miss family and friends here, I have work to do, I'm on a very tight budget, I don't know if I can enjoy Europe with a body that don't seem as strong and don't know if 3 weeks is enough time to get my strength back. But how can I tell my parents I don't wanna go without upsetting them. Ever since my mom suffered from an angina attack I find it hard to do anything that upsets her even slightly.

I just added the LR3 to the list of cars I'm looking into. Still car-less, which isn't too bad since I can'd drive yet anyway and friends and family seem more than willing to drive me anywhere.

Blood Blood Blood

So if you get 400KD worth of blood in you, how much is that?
They told me 4 bags of blood and 2 of plasma. Prior to that, I was, according to the testimony of those I scared, totally bloodless, utterly white. So without those 4 bags I was totally drained. Whoever that/those people were who gave me their blood: I thank you.

Been out of blogville for a long long time. I miss my blogger neighbors so this post will be short and I am off to pay some visits.

Home...Home...Home

I’m home. Finally. Lousy internet connection but I managed to read a few blogs again after having been cut off for about a week. I couldn’t post any comments as I’m still using dial-up, so I’m not totally settled yet, just enough to be able to pay a few visits.
It sure is good to be home. My first day here my phone didn’t stop ringing, and though this used to bother me before, I still miss my family and friends a lot and the constant phone calls are now a pleasure. It was a rather busy week though, or maybe not so busy Kuwaiti-style, but I’ve been in the US for the last year and am still not used to those daily nights out. Dinner party Monday, cultural activity Tuesday, dinner again Wednesday, girl’s hangout at my place Thursday over Chinese and “Kharaj Wa Lam Ya3ud” (Now that was the highlight of my week), dinner out again tonight, and so on and so on. Mornings haven’t been that quiet either.

There’s no place like home (shoes clicking three times)

VW Touareg, Lexus RX 330 or my all-time favorite Jag? Can’t decide!!!!! What else is out there?

Bye Bye Orlando

Auvers Village
Originally uploaded by noony67.

This is my last post from Orlando. Blogging will be halted for me until I settle back home. I’m anxious to get home but certain I will soon miss my little place here.

I had my farewell dinner at the house of this amazing friend/ex-teacher Cecilia over some Cuban music intersected with the playful guitar playing of the cutest 3 year old ever. Victor could only play after he finished tuning his guitar strings. He miraculously does that by grabbing each string and rubbing it. Once his guitar is ‘tuned’, Victor decided to play for us his own version of a song about a mouse and a cow. In his song the cow jumped over the sun and the dish ran away with the mouse. I’ll post his picture when I get back home and have full access to all my computer accessories.

This is such a wonderful family that even my two sons, who are usually reluctant to socialize, wanted to prolong our stay there. Unfortunately I had to leave and come back to packing. I am now officially packed and ready to head home, already missing Cecilia and her family.


In recognition of the end of my stay here, I change my name to its original, un-shortened, un-nicked version.

Field Greens at California Pizza Kitchen

Field Greens at California Pizza Kitchen
Originally uploaded by noony67.

I think this is my new favorite Italian. This salad comes with sugar-coated nuts and pears. I love it. Reminds me of those amazing salads my cousin makes.

I wanted to add a picture of my pizza too but didn't know how to do multiple pictures in one post and am too sleepy to bother now. Click on the picture and it'll take you to flickr where you can see the pizza. Yum.

I love playing with the little notes you can add to the picture though, as you can see :)

What's your favorite Italian in Kuwait?

A Tribute to My Bike

I'd write a poem if I had any talent writing those. Having found none even after I begged for my muse to pay me a visit, I choose prose instead.

My biking days are over. Those refreshing morning trips I used to take from my place to Winter Park Starbucks, with my laptop in my backpack, my (67) cap on my head, have finally come to an official end now that my bike is given away in preparation for returning home. I now have to settle for biking around our dismal neighborhood in Kuwait with my boys, nephews and nieces before fu6oor in Ramathan. As much as I miss my Kuwaiti neighborhood and those fun little rides with the kids, Kuwaiti streets are not very bike-friendly.

Well, I guess talent writing prose I do not have either (didn't catch episode III yet but I can still mimic Yoda.) And no. I'm no Star Wars fan, I watch the new ones for Natalie Portman's beautiful presence.

Touchdown in 9 days :)

CONGRATULATIONS :-)

My joy shall not be clouded by those crazy restrictions. Not today anyway.

Is it just me or is this a beautiful sight? 

2 Weeks

My To-Do List:
1. Provide the boys' schools with new address to send transcripts.
2. Disconnect phone, cable, power, internet, cell phones, hotspot, blockbuster.
3. Call furniture store to pick up furniture.
4. Change address with Bank.
5. Call Kuwait Airways.
6. Arrange time and date with shipping company.
7. Return books to library.
8. Call Cecilia and Murphy to thank for their help.
9. Find buyer for car.
10. Get rid of extra furniture.

And if there's time: shop, shop, and shop. Barnes & Noble and Gap (I hate shopping for boys in Kuwait) I'm gonna miss dearly :(

Oh and of course, PACK. The horror! The horror!

Am I Faithful Am I Strong

It's 7:30. I'm getting ready to leave, and X sends an msn message. Now I haven't talked to X in ages (ages is a relative term of course, it could be one hour or 10 years, depending on the person), but I have to go. Sarah is waiting on stage, N and B in the car. How can I dismiss someone I haven't talked to for that long? Can't I give them at least 5 minutes. Sarah would still be there and N and B won't mind waiting too much. Except of course, I wanna go out and have fun and I'm worried that a conversation longer than 'hi how are you gotta go' might ruin the experience for me. I tend to obsess over my friends. I don't show it, I almost never show my true feelings. Some call me cold, some pure rude, some a snob. I think what it is is that I don't have enough confidence to say and do what I would want to say and do. Of course this might just be an excuse for someone who is really just cold, rude, and a snob. A cold-hearted bitch.

So I tell X I gotta go. I'm heading to enjoy Sarah but I know even before that msn message that I won't be in the right mood. So when she appears on stage to do a duo with The Perishers, I don't cheer with the rest, I don't see it in me, again obsessing about losing a friend. The Perishers retire and I think what I need to get in the mood is a glass of Chardonnay (sp?), and that does help a little. When Sarah says Am I faithful am I strong, I finally kick it with her, regardless of the fact that I am neither faithful nor strong. Now is it the wine or does that song actually speaks my mind? 'All your expectations bury me':
>>All my insecurities
>>Try to own my destiny
>>But I can make or break it if I choose
>>You take my words and twist them around
>>Till I'm the one who brings you down
>>Make me feel like I'm the one to blame
>>For all this
Does Sarah know me that well? And then she says:
>>I have to take myself away from you
>>Cause I can't compete
>>I can't deny
>>There's nothing that I hadn't tried
>>How did I go so wrong in loving you?
And I immediately want to sms X those words. What stops me, what stops me every single time I think I should let go, is fear of letting go. I don't wanna lose X for good.

If you know you're causing pain to someone close, if you know that your words of comfort are bringing them down, if you know they're better off without your cold-hearted friendship, do you let go?

The truth is I am neither faithful nor strong enough to do that.

 

A Dedication

When the day is long and the night, the night is yours alone,
When you’re sure you’ve had enough of this life, well hang on
Don’t let yourself go, everybody cries and everybody hurts sometimes

Sometimes everything is wrong. now it’s time to sing along
When your day is night alone, hold on, hold on
If you feel like letting go, hold on
When you think you’ve had too much of this life, well hang on

’cause everybody hurts. take comfort in your friends
Everybody hurts. don’t throw your hand. oh, no. don’t throw your hand
If you feel like you’re alone, no, no, no, you are not alone

If you’re on your own in this life, the days and nights are long,
When you think you’ve had too much of this life to hang on

Well, everybody hurts sometimes,
Everybody cries. and everybody hurts sometimes
And everybody hurts sometimes. so, hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on
Everybody hurts. you are not alone

Goodbye Book Club

Today I said goodbye to my book club. Six meetings only, lasting two hours each, but an interesting experience while it lasted. I figured taking a picture of the books is faster than typing their names. Secret Life of Bees and Kite Runner were my favorite two. Very dramatic the way I like my novels to be :) Paradise Alley was good too but a little too depressing, reminded us all of Gangs of New York. Me Talk Pretty One Day is a fun read, The Professor and the Madman interesting in a way, The Bridge Across Forever is supposed to develop into some sort of science fiction but the first 100 pages didn't appeal to me so I stopped reading.

Wanna Live In A Perfect World?

What is a perfect world? Is it the end of hunger, war, genocide, hatred, headaches? Seriously, if the killing ended, would we be complaining about how bad it is to live in a world where we have to have headaches every once in a while? Am I making sense? Well, I am, in my headache-less head. And since this is my blog, my creation, ‘my own,’ I can make as much non-sense as I want.

Paradise. Toni Morrison. Blacks created their paradise, made only of blue blacks. Worked until the kids started rephrasing Beware the Forrow of His Brow into Be the Forrow of His Brow.
Brave New World. Aldous Huxley. Suma takes away all your pain and gives you happiness. And it is 100% legal, and encouraged.
The Time Machine. HG Wells. I still remember an old movie production in which the time machine lands in a world made only of beautiful young blonds. And then the siren goes off.
The Female Man. Joanna Russ. Another time travel plot that looks at 3 (or maybe 4) futuristic worlds.
Herland. Carlottle Perkins Gilman. Amazon-like world. No men to be found. When they come, they mess it up :)
And of course what started it all: Plato’s Republic and More's Utopia.
I’m leaving out a lot. But I’m always intrigued by Utopias/Dystopias.

So. A Perfect World. You wanna?

This post is brought to you by inspiration of Hotel Rwanda.

What troubles Africa?

Politics is not my game. But even with my level of ignorance I know that that place is havoc, one I tend to mostly forget about until I see movies that remind me that there's a dark continent somewhere on this earth that has been made into the big mess it is today because a group of blonds decided that borders have to be drawn. (OK I know that not all Europeans are blond)

I've lately been very sensitive to putting labels and defining people or actions. I don't want to theorize but it's precisely that act of defining that enables people to think they're better than others. I know that labeling is useful in many cases, but so are drugs and knives and even guns. What to do?

I remember the controversy over Alexander and how I insisted on clarifying for those who called him gay that labeling a person based on an act he or she does is a very modern way of looking into things, relatively speaking, and that at that time, Alexander was merely a man who engaged in homosexual activities, which is a long stretch from calling him gay. (I read Foucault late in life, but it was quite a read) We have labels for everything. You scream once, you're hysteric; you worry a little, you're obsessive compulsive; your mind drifts off a bit, you have ADD; and the list goes on. I know that defining helps limit the problem, contain it, and as such, treat it, but in doing all that aren't we also inflating the problem?

I don't have answers I never do. It's always questions but never answers.

I'm lecturing. My favorite pastime :) Occupational hazard so to speak.

On a lighter note: Kidman is gorgeous.
"I'll be honest with you," she says, "I don't know how honest I can be with you." Don't you just love this line? Or "vengeance is a lazy form of grief." I tell you. That woman is amazing. Yeah yeah I know she didn't write those lines, but still...

جريمة الـجهراء

This story brought tears to my eyes while reading it. And I am not one to cry easily. What is this? Reads like a Wally Lamb. How grotesque. The poor children, those who died and those who will hopefully make it. What life awaits them?

Still can't stop those tears from falling...

وجودكِ بالبيت راحة

A Johnson&Johnson ad shows dad taking care of baby.
A Stainmaster ad shows dad trying to help baby to sleep by putting him down on the carpet.
A Cheerios ad shows dad and baby sharing cereal.
A Dairy Queen ad shows baby trying to snatch dad's ice-cream.

Media has a great effect in prescribing while supposedly describing our way of life. Our Kuwaiti TV perpetually shows images of moms as the sole caretakers of babies and dads as the sole breadwinners. No wonder sexism seems on the rise in Kuwait. If it existed before only in our heads, it's now being enforced by good sweet media.

One of the images that really get to me, still, even after almost a year spent here, is seeing dads pushing their babies' strollers while going for their morning jogs in the park. Nothing especially amazing in the image except for the fact that it will be missed when I head back home. How rare is this image in Kuwait? Does it even exist? How can it even begin to be incorporated when what meets us in the streets is a billboard reading "wejodich bilbait ra7a" (translation: Your staying home is comforting) under the picture of a woman, never a man of course? Not to mention our wonderfully educational Ramadan Kuwaiti series that add more flame to this image.
What does it even perpetuate? That women should quit their jobs and stay home for their children?

Rights to vote!!! Are you kidding me? How about the simple right to choose a life?

A MidApril Night's Dream

Immediately after taking this picture, this woman to the right came to tell me photography isn't allowed. So the only picture I have of Shakespeare in the park is this barren stage.

It was freezing but most enjoyable.

I leave you, dear blog, with the bard himself:

If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumbered here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend,
If you pardon, we will mend.