Sunday, November 27, 2005

Do They LOVE Censorship or what!?

This is the second time, I believe, that ISU blocked blogspot. I used to blog on Livejournal, but that's long gone.
Why do they love censorship? Why don't they let us say what we want? It's not like blogspot is breeding mini terrorists, or anything!
As I recall, for a very long time (I'm not sure it was titties.. Could have been boobies..) was open for the masses to enjoy!
Imbeciles. I am not amused by the pranks they pull. They shall pay dearly.

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

The Girl In The Class Room at 7:30

Around the 3rd or 4rth week of school, I walked into class extremely early, (it was about 7:3o, and class started at 8. Apparently I was pretty darn excited 'bout sum'in!).
I thought I could sit in the silence (there was only one other girl in class, and she was busy applying her make up), and maybe catch up on some reading or something.
I don't know if you've noticed this yet, but in my life, things usually take a turn for the unexpected.
I was staring like an idiot into space, completely oblivious to my surroundings, when I heard someone weeping.
I turned to see the girl was crying. Shaking uncontrolably.
She called my name. I was quite scared, I didn't know who this girl was, and she know my name.
"Come here," she said. "There's something I'd like to share with you."
I was torn between going to console her and running like a maniac out the door and then out of that wretched University..
I went to her.
"Errmm.. What's the matter?" I asked, hesitating a little.
"I'm about to tell you something that you cannot under any circumstances repeat to anyone else in the class."
I'm afraid to say, (as always) curiosity got the best of me. I agreed not to tell anyone in class, or otherwise.
"A man has asked for my hand in marriage," She began, sobbing.
"W..Well, that's great, congratulations."
"And his brother has asked for my older sister's hand in marriage."
"Alright, why are you so upset, then?"
"I don't want to marry him!"
"Then don't." I said, smiling.
"It's not that simple. My sister really wants to marry her Fiance, and if I say no, both men will withhold thier offers. And my father has already accepted both offers, and everything is almost finalised! Oh I don't want to marry that man!"
"Is he a bad man?" (Cut me some slack! I didin't know what to reffer to him as.)
"No, on the contrary, he is a wonderful man, both he and his brother are. He is all that I ever wanted in a husband."
"Again; what's the problem, then? Marry him. It'll make you, your dad and you sister happy."
"I'm not ready."
For the first time in my life, I was speechless. I was for almost the entirety of that conversation. You must know that the conversation did not go as smoothly as you might think from reading this.
You must also understand, that she was the kind of person you don't really talk freely with; very conservative. I can't ask her to defy her family's wishes.. For her that would be unthinkable. Unimaginable.
"Talk to your dad and sister, then. Try to make them understand that you feel you're not emotionaly ready for marriage." For God's sake, who is at nineteen!?
"There's something else. My father has Lukemia."
Okay, the biggest desision I ever had to make was 3ilmi aw adabi? (Translation: the scientific or literary section in highschool?). The most life-altering choice I ever had to make was weather I wanted a black kittie, or a ginger one.
"He's worried he'll pass away and there won't be anyone to take care of us."
Still speechless.
I mustered up enough courage to utter :"Do what will make your father happy."
I had never in my life felt more like a worthless, insignificant spoilt little brat.
Ilhamdu-lilah, I thank God Almighty. If I were this girl, I don't know what I would've done.

I have not talked to her since that fateful morning. What do you say to someone who's going through all this? How do you look them in the eye?
All I can say is I hope she's happy. Her engagement party supposedly took place over Eid break.

I can't help but feel that I've got it easy..

Sunday, November 20, 2005


I went back to school yesterday.
For the first time since last June, I believe.
I did not expect to get choked up while driving through the front gates. But, (thank God,) as soon as I walked down that hall and saw Q, I wen back to loathing Highschool.
I remember sitting in class, staring at the college girls who came to visit, and envying them. I wanted to get out of there so badly.. And now I am out.
I get to walk around in the hallways while people are in class, and no one can tell me "Get back in that class or I will call your mother, young lady!".
I get to bring my cell phone to school! I never thought I'd see the day!
But somehow, I did get that feeling of ''I'm home again!'' while walking down those hallways. I did want to hug everyone I came across. It feels like just yesterday we were all posing next to (what we call) our school's landmarks, taking the last pictures we would take of ourselves as highschool students, and shouting ''We will never again have to walk in here wearing these God damned uniforms!!''
My little trip down memory lane was not as spiritual as I thought it'd be.
Don't laugh at me, but I though I was special. Or atleast I thought our Class Of 2005 was special. I thought that after I left, they would shut down the school citing; ''It just isn't the way it used to be.'' (Very 3rd gradeish of me, I know)
They didn't. I guess I'm not as special as I led myself to believe.

The (shockingly) unspecial;

Thursday, November 17, 2005

Flight Plan

I saw the movie Flight Paln, and was very offended.
The movie takes place in an airplane, right?
"So who better," thought Hollywood, "to play the guy who looks like a villian, than an angry looking bearded Arab? Perfect!"
And highly original, Hollywood, really.
I am sick and tired of Hollywood portraying Arabs as ignorant, evil people. We are not. So stop pretending we are, and while you're at it, try to make movies that are not crap, please (I know this is very difficult for you).

Please, do not watch Flight Plan. Don't buy the DVD. I think we should boycott all movies that offend Arabs. I started.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

My Alter Ego And My Presentation

I believe you've noticed the link on the right that says 'My Alter Ego'.
You see, I've discovered that I can sometimes turn into Ms.Nasty who hates the world.
Therefore, I created a new blog for Ms.Nasty me (And Ms.Nasty me swears alot, so parental advisory and all that crap, lol).

Today I did a presentation on 'The Punk Culture'. It is very frustrating when you've put your heart and soul into explaining something to someone, and all they do is stare at you blankly while drooling over God knows what.
I had to endure 43 of those people today.
And after class, a bunch of girls came up to me and said: "Uhh.. We liked the pictures in your slide show!"
I felt like asking the question that pops into my head whenever I encounter infuriatingly ignorant people: Are you five?! Are you as amused by colorful pictures as a toddler?!
I worked very hard on the information I presented. I searched, drafted, wrote, and rewrote a million times! And all you can think of is to compliment me on the pictures I googled!?
I know I must sound big headed, everyone likes a compliment, right?
Wrong. Not when it's about something as trivial as pictures in (what I thought was) a truly interesting presentation!
You know what the problem is?! Our youth is so glued to the Rotana screen that they don't even think about acquiring an effing hobby!

I'm probably blabbering and not making sense.

Monday, November 14, 2005

Anonymous Me

I walked into KSU this morning, (I go in through gate 3), and saw that what was only three weeks ago a perfectly normal looking room, was now in ruins. I have no idea when, how, or why. All I know is that it was not the best way to wake up at eight AM.
I got to class on time though, which is always good.

I got an A- in grammar. I don't know how. I studied my ass off (not really, lol. I just enjoy saying 'I studied my ass off'), I hate how I suddenly turn into an idiot once I lay my hands on an exam paper.

When I first got accepted at KSU, I was thrilled. I didn't know anyone who was majoring in English Lit., and I couldn't wait to walk into a classroom and be anonymous.
Anonymity is really a blessing, (that unfortunately, does not last very long). Really, being able to sit in a room full of people and not have to talk to anyone! And be able to read a book, or listen to some music while faceless people around you talk about things you can't really hear. Bliss.

At my highschool, you were a dork if you were anonymous. I'm sorry, but it's really hard for me to care what people think of me. I don't know if I'm 'mature', or I just simply don't give a damn.

I miss the girls at highschool.
I say it with no shame now. Strange how I miss the past the moment it stops being the present.
I feel like I'm missing out on everything when I see them these days.
Like, there's this girl I know who's piss-your-pants hillarious, and every time I see her now, I think; 'I probably missed a million of her jokes'. And what's sad is that I did.

I wouldn't mind one more of Q's classes right about now, lol.
And I thought I felt left out in highschool.

I am not contradicting myself. Wanting to be anonymous is not wanting to be left out. When I'm anonymous, I could be anything to anybody. It's kind of complicated.
When I'm left out, people know who I am, but don't relate to me, and I don't to them. It's like being the odd one out. Whereas when you're anonymous you're not one in the first place.

I want to be seventeen again.

Saturday, November 12, 2005

Beirut Taxis

I'm in Beirut! The weather's awesome, and I get to give my Abaya a rest, (at-fucking-last!)
Taxi drivers here are funny, man. They LOVE to honk them horns!
You could be walking down the street, and a taxi would pull up to you, the driver would roll the window down and shout "TAXIIII!?". And after shaking your head (rather violently) no, he'd motion for you to get in, (also rather violently). A few minutes later you'd find yourself absolutely screaming "NO NO NO NO NO NO NOOOO!". It's all quite dramatic, actually.
Come to think of it, every taxi ride I've gotten has been an experience. (Infact, the ones I haven't gotten are aswell, strangely enough..)
About a year ago now, Our whole (extended) family went on a skiing vacation in Austria *que the sound-track to The Sound Of Music*. Two of my cousins and I called a taxi to pick us up from the hotel we were staying at. To our utter horror; a tiny ancient looking pink taxi pulled up infront of our hotel.
At first, we saw the hilarity in our predicament, (Really; have YOU ever seen a hot pink taxi?) and started giggling. Then, the driver, who turned out to be a ridiculously old, ridiculuosly skinny, toothless chap, turned around and said; "Vutt are you gurlz laughing at!? Eh??".
We said nothing.
"Err.. Nothing."
Later on, we discovered the little man smoked like a god-damned chimney. The smell was overwhelming. I asked him to stop, (my cousin had started to cough, and her eyes were turning red) and he said "No, next time, you assk for a non-smoking driverr."
Can you imagine? We could have died right then and there from inhaling all that smoke! (Or someting)
We asked if he would mind opening a window.
I asked if he could please turn the radio on
At that moment he swerved infront of a red light. We were not only going to drive past a red light, we were about to hit a little old lady.
about 15 minutes into the ride, he rolled down his window, stuck his head out, and started shouting (what sounded like) German curse words at random people.
We later found out that he is quite fond of shouting curse words at random people. (Who, as a result, wound up laughing their asses off.) Imagine an old,toothless man shouting at you from inside a pink car. (Why PINK, for God's sake!?)
We got to our destination about 3o minutes later. What should have been a 15 minute ride, wound up a 45 minute adventure in a little pink cab.
Beware, the wrath of the dreaded Pink Taxi. *Mwahahahaaaaaa!*

Friday, November 04, 2005

Boys Are Stupid, Just Ask Cupid (Or Anyone Else, Really)

What is wrong with Saudi males!? They seem to think that they're the shit. Let me tell you, they are not.
There is something I have been dying to mention; Saudi boys enjoy very strange things. They like racing thier $150,000 cars in public streets, being rude to Saudi girls in particular (I think this stems from insecurity. They are niether charming, nor good looking, so they have no way of impressing girls, therefore they act like complete jackasses), and throwing little pieces of paper with thier phone numbers written on at female passer-by.
As I mentioned, they like racing cars and preforming dangerous stunts. And as you may have guessed, this causes hundreds of car crashes. Daily.
There is a street called 'Al-Tahlia' in Riyadh that Saudi kids, (mostly teenagers) like to go to. If you ever pass by it, you may notice that there are no females sitting in any of the restaurants or coffee shops. This is the result of the grudge the government has against women. You see, women are not allowed in any of the restaurants or coffee shops. I would know, because I once tried to get in, and was reduced to standing outside the restaurant and ordering my food to go.
I once heard a story a girl at school was telling. She and some friends were driving (not literally ofcourse. They, like most Saudi families, have hired male drivers) through Al-Tahlia, and they were being chased by a boy in a B.M.W. Ofcourse, he was not looking at the road, so he crashed into a wall or a pole or something, and died.
Ofcourse, not all Saudi boys are careless drivers. There are boys who genuinley accidentally crash. But I believe that only a few do, and most boys involved in crashes caused them, and out of sheer stupidity.
You can ask any Saudi family, and they'll tell you they knew a young man who died in a car accident.
So, to any parents who happen to be reading this: please stop giving your children cars to crash! If you want to kill your kid, go ahead. Just don't let them put us all in danger.
Stay safe, (and don't forget your seatbelts!).
Oh! And Happy Mushroom Day! (LOL I'm sorry, that text message CRACKED ME UP!)
Kol 3amm o into b5eer!

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

A Bit Of My Highschool Journal

I was going through my old high school stuff, when I came across my old journal.
I thought I'd give you a look at my old angst-ridden adolecent self:

The woman is a lunatic. The last time I tried to have an intelligent conversation with her, I wound up laughing my head off.
I hate people who get angry an shout alot. I find loud voices seriously disturbing.
That's why I did not attend Q's* class today. I just cannot handle her insisting on being unreasonable and uncivilized. She's a sweet old lady, but sometimes I do question her mental stability, like I do many others'.
I just wish I could leave here. I am tired of living in this bubble.

This life-like dream
Ain't for me

There is nothing to do here in this hell-hole. Maniacs randomly roam the streets, the heat is unbearable (as is the stench), everything is always dirty and dusty and it is quite normal to find twelve to forty year olds suffering from an unexplainable depression that just knaws at your heart.
The British Council is having a creative writing contest. Contestans are asked to write a story. The theme is 'I Belong', which makes me laugh, because that is the only topic I cannot wirte a single word on. Because I quite simply don't belong.

Aww! Wasn't I a precious-widdle angst-widden tween!?

*Q taught me Tawheed (I think), in high school.

The Media Are Being Idiots Again.

I was once looking at a magazine, and one of the headlines read: 'New Study Shows That Most Car Accidents In Saudi Arabia are Caused by Males.'
I do not blame the magazine for wasting precious paper on such an idiotic article, as much as I blame the poor, poor fool who's studying the matter. It must have taken him an eternity to figure that out.
It is disgusting how the media completely ignores the serious matters in this country! It just makes me want to shout: DON'T ACT LIKE WE LIVE IN A PERFECT COUNTRY, BACAUSE WE ARE FAR FROM BEING PERFECT.
I wanted to get that off my chest. I have.
I'll be posting today again, but at a decent hour.
Untill then, don't get into any female-induced car accidents! I hear they're becoming quite common here.

Tuesday, November 01, 2005


Although I am a woman, (or am on my way to becoming one), there is one thing I do not understand about my fellow females. I know for a fact that we are not weak, so why do we (by being vunerable) fall prey to men? Why would a beautiful, smart, well-off young woman, allow a disgusting pig of a man she calls her husband/boyfriend to disrespect her?
I thought marriage (and all relationships) was about two people who share mutual understanding, trust, and most importantly; respect for eachother.
In my mind, that is the definition of love.
Apparently, many women settle for second best. Or even for absolutely horrible.
I, for the life of me, will never understand why. And I believe I'm better off not understanding.