La Verita
I am a half kuwaiti/half american girl living in Kuwait.
I am perpetually suspended in the granite hollow that fills the space between two worlds...
Not quite who I am, not quite who I want to be... Cat-lover, poet, music-nut.
I currently hold a PHD in both BS and Smartass. In short, I pitch my tent in the median of life..
Links
Picture perfect
"Laugh as much as you breathe and love as long as you live."
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Caff
Delicately Realistic
Diigmaa
Dr. Lost
Doug's Darkworld
Entrepreneur
Erzulie
Fallen Angel
K the Kuwaiti
Mia: Shaken Not Stirred
Miya Fushi
MissCosmo
Purgatory
Skunk
SnoCone
Solar Alchemist
The Stallion
Swair
Tooomz
Curled-up with..
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Designer: BohemianRhapsody
Brushes: Inobscuro, At0mica, Echoica, Veredgf, Puzzle,
Fonts: Dafont
Image: Foto_decadent
Image Host: Photobucket
Brushes: Inobscuro, At0mica, Echoica, Veredgf, Puzzle,
Fonts: Dafont
Image: Foto_decadent
Image Host: Photobucket
Saturday, October 29, 2005
Incidental Minutiae
>>>> Coca-Cola was originally green. (Why??)
>>>> The name of all the continents end with the same letter that they start with. (That isn't as weird as the fact that all the continents start with 'A' except Europe! Ishma3na Europe, ya3ny?? Why not Arope??)
>>>> The strongest muscle in the body is the tongue. (How would you test that?)
>>>> There are two credit cards for every person in the United States. (I wonder if that statistic excludes outliers like .. oh, I don't know... The Hilton sisters! Or Usher.. or Michael Jackson for that matter!)
>>>> Women blink nearly twice as much as men.
>>>> You can't kill yourself by holding your breath. (Duh!)
>>>> It is impossible to lick your elbow. (If any of you out there can do this.. let me know.. seriously..)
>>>> People say "Bless you" when you sneeze because when you sneeze,your heart stops for a millisecond.
>>>> It is physically impossible for pigs to look up into the sky. (This little tid-bit comes courtesy of "The Farmers Guide to the Universe" - pocket edition)
>>>> The "sixth sick sheik's sixth sheep's sick" is said to be the toughest tongue twister in the English language. (Toughest tongue twister might come in a close second..)
>>>> If you sneeze too hard, you can fracture a rib. If you try to suppress a sneeze,you can rupture a blood vessel in your head or neck and die. (At least someone has said 'God Bless you' by that point...)
>>>> Each king in a deck of playing cards represents great king from history.
Clubs - Alexander the Great,
Hearts - Charlemagne
Spades - King David
Diamonds - Julius Caesar.
(I wonder who the queens represent...
Clubs > Rosie O'Donnel?
Hearts> Princess Di?
Diamonds> Oprah Winfrey?
Spades> David Spade? :P )
>>>> 111,111,111 x 111,111,111 = 12,345,678,987,654,321 (How is that even possible?)
>>>> If a statue of a person in the park on a horse has both front legs in the air, the person died in battle. If the horse has one front leg in the air, the persondied as a result of wounds received in battle. If the horse has all four legs on the ground, the person died of natural causes. (Ok, now that is just a good piece of info right there!)
>>>> What do bullet proof vests, fire escapes, windshield wipers and laserprinters all have in common? Answer: All invented by women. (Enough said.)
>>>> A crocodile cannot stick its tongue out. (Why would it ever need to? Come to think of it.. Why do any of us need to!?)
>>>> A snail can sleep for three years. (wanaasa...)
>>>> All polar bears are left handed.
>>>> American Airlines saved $40,000 in 1987 by eliminating one olive from each salad served in first-class. {That one's for you, Entre'! ;)}
>>>> Butterflies taste with their feet.
>>>> Elephants are the only animals that can't jump. (I don't know about that... I'm sure they could if they really wanted to..)
>>>> In the last 4000 years, no new animals have been domesticated.
>>>> On average, people fear spiders more than they do death. (I don't... but replace that spider with a cockroach and now you're talking!)
>>>> Shakespeare invented the words 'assassination' and 'bump'. (hmmm... did not know that..)
>>>> The ant always falls over on its right side when intoxicated. (Why would anybody need to know that!? and moreover... who is the lame-a** scientist with nothing better to do than get ants inebriated??)
>>>> The electric chair was invented by a dentist. (Go figure..)
>>>> The human heart creates enough pressure when it pumps out to the
body to squirt blood 30 feet. (Now, that's a party trick!)
>>>> Rats multiply so quickly that in 18 months, two rats could have over a million descendants.
>>>> Wearing headphones for just an hour will increase the bacteria in your ear by 700 times. (Ok.. now I'm worried...:s )
>>>> The cigarette lighter was invented before the matchbox. (?)
>>>> Like fingerprints, everyone's tongue print is different
>>>> And finally 99% of people who read this will try to lick their elbow. (Seriously, if you can do it, tell me...)
__________________________________________________________________________
-Layla
>>>> The name of all the continents end with the same letter that they start with. (That isn't as weird as the fact that all the continents start with 'A' except Europe! Ishma3na Europe, ya3ny?? Why not Arope??)
>>>> The strongest muscle in the body is the tongue. (How would you test that?)
>>>> There are two credit cards for every person in the United States. (I wonder if that statistic excludes outliers like .. oh, I don't know... The Hilton sisters! Or Usher.. or Michael Jackson for that matter!)
>>>> Women blink nearly twice as much as men.
>>>> You can't kill yourself by holding your breath. (Duh!)
>>>> It is impossible to lick your elbow. (If any of you out there can do this.. let me know.. seriously..)
>>>> People say "Bless you" when you sneeze because when you sneeze,your heart stops for a millisecond.
>>>> It is physically impossible for pigs to look up into the sky. (This little tid-bit comes courtesy of "The Farmers Guide to the Universe" - pocket edition)
>>>> The "sixth sick sheik's sixth sheep's sick" is said to be the toughest tongue twister in the English language. (Toughest tongue twister might come in a close second..)
>>>> If you sneeze too hard, you can fracture a rib. If you try to suppress a sneeze,you can rupture a blood vessel in your head or neck and die. (At least someone has said 'God Bless you' by that point...)
>>>> Each king in a deck of playing cards represents great king from history.
Clubs - Alexander the Great,
Hearts - Charlemagne
Spades - King David
Diamonds - Julius Caesar.
(I wonder who the queens represent...
Clubs > Rosie O'Donnel?
Hearts> Princess Di?
Diamonds> Oprah Winfrey?
Spades> David Spade? :P )
>>>> 111,111,111 x 111,111,111 = 12,345,678,987,654,321 (How is that even possible?)
>>>> If a statue of a person in the park on a horse has both front legs in the air, the person died in battle. If the horse has one front leg in the air, the persondied as a result of wounds received in battle. If the horse has all four legs on the ground, the person died of natural causes. (Ok, now that is just a good piece of info right there!)
>>>> What do bullet proof vests, fire escapes, windshield wipers and laserprinters all have in common? Answer: All invented by women. (Enough said.)
>>>> A crocodile cannot stick its tongue out. (Why would it ever need to? Come to think of it.. Why do any of us need to!?)
>>>> A snail can sleep for three years. (wanaasa...)
>>>> All polar bears are left handed.
>>>> American Airlines saved $40,000 in 1987 by eliminating one olive from each salad served in first-class. {That one's for you, Entre'! ;)}
>>>> Butterflies taste with their feet.
>>>> Elephants are the only animals that can't jump. (I don't know about that... I'm sure they could if they really wanted to..)
>>>> In the last 4000 years, no new animals have been domesticated.
>>>> On average, people fear spiders more than they do death. (I don't... but replace that spider with a cockroach and now you're talking!)
>>>> Shakespeare invented the words 'assassination' and 'bump'. (hmmm... did not know that..)
>>>> The ant always falls over on its right side when intoxicated. (Why would anybody need to know that!? and moreover... who is the lame-a** scientist with nothing better to do than get ants inebriated??)
>>>> The electric chair was invented by a dentist. (Go figure..)
>>>> The human heart creates enough pressure when it pumps out to the
body to squirt blood 30 feet. (Now, that's a party trick!)
>>>> Rats multiply so quickly that in 18 months, two rats could have over a million descendants.
>>>> Wearing headphones for just an hour will increase the bacteria in your ear by 700 times. (Ok.. now I'm worried...:s )
>>>> The cigarette lighter was invented before the matchbox. (?)
>>>> Like fingerprints, everyone's tongue print is different
>>>> And finally 99% of people who read this will try to lick their elbow. (Seriously, if you can do it, tell me...)
__________________________________________________________________________
-Layla
14:02
(12) comments
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Infiltration of Bimbette Nation....
So, I was standing in line at my local Starbucks this evening.. The mere fact that I was standing in line should have tipped me off that something bad was gonna happen. It may sound overly superstitious and, perhaps, down-right insane, but I am fully convinced that bad things follow when I end up waiting in line at my local Starbucks... no where else.. just that Starbucks...
Anyway, so there I was, standing in line, when an escapee from the bimbette colony ( Are they allowed to actually venture out in public alone? ) walked into the coffeehouse... You know the ones I'm talking about.. Hair that has been straightened to within an inch of its life, perfectly manicured french tips, bubble gum pink lip gloss that perfectly matched her velour Juicy track suit bottoms, a tight black T-shirt and matching sneakers... off-the-charts bimbette! So, she got in line next to me and proceeded to ufff and sigh, possibly in hopes that one of the Neanderthals in front of her would step aside and let her go first... Sooo NOT gonna happen!
Anyway, it got me thinking... Where was I on the Bimbette Registration day? I don't remember any memo getting passed around... Or is Bimbette Nation a 'members-only' type thing where you have to know someone who knows someone who has kissed the hand of the Queen Bimbette in order to get in? maybe it's genetic... But it got me thinking, where in my life was that veritable threshold presented to me whereby I could pass into bimbette-ness or forever remain a normal, albeit slightly less visually entertaining, person?
I distinctly remember a budding crop of bimbettes from high school... The girls who always found a way to make that God-awful gray uniform seem like a choice. These were the same girls that somehow got away with tighter than tight and shorter than short versions of the school dresscode coupled with forbidden items of clothing like flashy watches and earrings that gave even the slightest hint of a dangle. I was not one of these girls. I spent my high school years floating between the nerds and the cool kids (cool kids and bimbettes being mutually exclusive entities in my school). I spent my time volunteering for things and participating in school competitions and I clearly remember spending my last year of high school in a state of perpetual 'ditching' in which I don't remember attending a single class...
So maybe it stretches back further than that... Junior high ... hmm... It's getting a bit hazy here... I do believe we had a set of miniature bimbettes in junior high... the ones who stood out in the median of the street flashing their legs at the high school, cradle-robbing boys who used to come skidding by in their GT's... I never could understand it. Junior high for me was about finally trading in my thick glasses for contacts and meeting the girl who ten years later is still the best friend I've ever had...
Elementary school is a blur... and I'm pretty sure bimbettes were not even in existence then...
So, assuming this threshold was presented to me in Junior high, I was too busy, too blind or just too damn smart to notice. And I'm sorry if this offends anybody out there, but these bimbettes are precisely why us kuwaiti girls have such bad images. They are the reason my brother, who is looking to get married, says he would never fall for a kuwaiti girl b/c all guys ever see, in malls, in restaurants and on the street are bimbettes!
Maybe I'm being a bit too harsh, but I am getting more and more convinced that everything that is wrong with Kuwait can ultimately be traced back to the Bimbette...
__________________________________________________________________________
- Layla
Anyway, so there I was, standing in line, when an escapee from the bimbette colony ( Are they allowed to actually venture out in public alone? ) walked into the coffeehouse... You know the ones I'm talking about.. Hair that has been straightened to within an inch of its life, perfectly manicured french tips, bubble gum pink lip gloss that perfectly matched her velour Juicy track suit bottoms, a tight black T-shirt and matching sneakers... off-the-charts bimbette! So, she got in line next to me and proceeded to ufff and sigh, possibly in hopes that one of the Neanderthals in front of her would step aside and let her go first... Sooo NOT gonna happen!
Anyway, it got me thinking... Where was I on the Bimbette Registration day? I don't remember any memo getting passed around... Or is Bimbette Nation a 'members-only' type thing where you have to know someone who knows someone who has kissed the hand of the Queen Bimbette in order to get in? maybe it's genetic... But it got me thinking, where in my life was that veritable threshold presented to me whereby I could pass into bimbette-ness or forever remain a normal, albeit slightly less visually entertaining, person?
I distinctly remember a budding crop of bimbettes from high school... The girls who always found a way to make that God-awful gray uniform seem like a choice. These were the same girls that somehow got away with tighter than tight and shorter than short versions of the school dresscode coupled with forbidden items of clothing like flashy watches and earrings that gave even the slightest hint of a dangle. I was not one of these girls. I spent my high school years floating between the nerds and the cool kids (cool kids and bimbettes being mutually exclusive entities in my school). I spent my time volunteering for things and participating in school competitions and I clearly remember spending my last year of high school in a state of perpetual 'ditching' in which I don't remember attending a single class...
So maybe it stretches back further than that... Junior high ... hmm... It's getting a bit hazy here... I do believe we had a set of miniature bimbettes in junior high... the ones who stood out in the median of the street flashing their legs at the high school, cradle-robbing boys who used to come skidding by in their GT's... I never could understand it. Junior high for me was about finally trading in my thick glasses for contacts and meeting the girl who ten years later is still the best friend I've ever had...
Elementary school is a blur... and I'm pretty sure bimbettes were not even in existence then...
So, assuming this threshold was presented to me in Junior high, I was too busy, too blind or just too damn smart to notice. And I'm sorry if this offends anybody out there, but these bimbettes are precisely why us kuwaiti girls have such bad images. They are the reason my brother, who is looking to get married, says he would never fall for a kuwaiti girl b/c all guys ever see, in malls, in restaurants and on the street are bimbettes!
Maybe I'm being a bit too harsh, but I am getting more and more convinced that everything that is wrong with Kuwait can ultimately be traced back to the Bimbette...
__________________________________________________________________________
- Layla
02:43
(16) comments
Ron Howard is a mindless, commercial-movie wh*re! He should be shot for single-handedly butchering only the greatest story to hit the silver screen in years.. and he managed to do it before the movie was even shot!!
In case some of you don't know where this hatred and full-on rage is coming from.. allow me to clarify. Ron Howard is that guy from Happy Days (the old T.V. show) who is now some big-time Hollywood director.. Anyway, he's the director for the movie adaptation of The Da Vinci Code. Yeah, only the best, most original script to come out in years and they give it to Ron Howard! Now, I don't have anything against the guy on a personal level (though that may be hard to believe at this point..) and I honestly don't mind him directing the movie, but why... WHY did they put him in charge of casting?? He has chosen none other than Tom Hanks, the worst person for the role of Robert Langdon (The hero of the Da Vinci Code), as the lead! Tom Hanks!!? Talk about doing anything to make it a blockbuster! I mean, yeah Tom Hanks is pretty much guaranteed to bring people to the theaters, but come on! He is sooo not right for this role as anyone who has really devoured the book would know!
They should have done a poll on the authors' web site.. whereby everyone would go and nominate actors for the lead roles and then vote on the nominees... That would have been fair. You have to understand that this isn't just any other movie.. This is a story that has rocked not only a nation, but the entire world. It brought a somewhat understated and academics-only theory into the spotlight. It deserves to be brought to the silver screen in the most perfect form that Hollywood can muster.
If it were up to me.. and believe me, I have put a LOT of thought into this.. I would have chosen Jeff Goldblum... He's got that perfect blend of smart, but quirky with a little bit of dork thrown in that is Robert Langdon's style... He would be perfect! Kind of a blend between his roles in Jurassic Park and Independence Day.
Sophie Neveau... The brilliant cryptographer who goes on the grail hunt with Langdon is gonna be played by Audrey Tattou (or however the hell it's spelled!) Why?? b/c she's french evidently.... She is sooo wrong for the part. Again, if it were up to me, I would have chosen Rachel Weisz (Why do these people have such hard names to spell!?! ) Anyway, she's the chick from The Mummy movies and Runaway Jury... She's british so it can't be that difficult for her to cross the channel and adopt a french accent....
I don't really give a damn as to who plays the other characters, but those two were vital! They would set the tone of the whole movie and Ron Howard has completely ruined the movie for me without my even seeing it!
And now, I'm faced with a dilemma... should I even see the movie?? I'm afraid it'll ruin the book for me... that every time I turn the pages of my beautiful, limited-edition, illustrated version of The DVC, I'll be haunted by images of Tom Hanks' annoying, gray curls and Audrey Tattou's collagen enhanced lips running all over paris... :s Damn you, Ron Howard!!
You can tell I have too much time on my hands...
____________________________________________________________________________
Jump on board, take the ride...
-Layla
Ron Howard should be assassinated...
Ron Howard is a mindless, commercial-movie wh*re! He should be shot for single-handedly butchering only the greatest story to hit the silver screen in years.. and he managed to do it before the movie was even shot!!
In case some of you don't know where this hatred and full-on rage is coming from.. allow me to clarify. Ron Howard is that guy from Happy Days (the old T.V. show) who is now some big-time Hollywood director.. Anyway, he's the director for the movie adaptation of The Da Vinci Code. Yeah, only the best, most original script to come out in years and they give it to Ron Howard! Now, I don't have anything against the guy on a personal level (though that may be hard to believe at this point..) and I honestly don't mind him directing the movie, but why... WHY did they put him in charge of casting?? He has chosen none other than Tom Hanks, the worst person for the role of Robert Langdon (The hero of the Da Vinci Code), as the lead! Tom Hanks!!? Talk about doing anything to make it a blockbuster! I mean, yeah Tom Hanks is pretty much guaranteed to bring people to the theaters, but come on! He is sooo not right for this role as anyone who has really devoured the book would know!
They should have done a poll on the authors' web site.. whereby everyone would go and nominate actors for the lead roles and then vote on the nominees... That would have been fair. You have to understand that this isn't just any other movie.. This is a story that has rocked not only a nation, but the entire world. It brought a somewhat understated and academics-only theory into the spotlight. It deserves to be brought to the silver screen in the most perfect form that Hollywood can muster.
If it were up to me.. and believe me, I have put a LOT of thought into this.. I would have chosen Jeff Goldblum... He's got that perfect blend of smart, but quirky with a little bit of dork thrown in that is Robert Langdon's style... He would be perfect! Kind of a blend between his roles in Jurassic Park and Independence Day.
Sophie Neveau... The brilliant cryptographer who goes on the grail hunt with Langdon is gonna be played by Audrey Tattou (or however the hell it's spelled!) Why?? b/c she's french evidently.... She is sooo wrong for the part. Again, if it were up to me, I would have chosen Rachel Weisz (Why do these people have such hard names to spell!?! ) Anyway, she's the chick from The Mummy movies and Runaway Jury... She's british so it can't be that difficult for her to cross the channel and adopt a french accent....
I don't really give a damn as to who plays the other characters, but those two were vital! They would set the tone of the whole movie and Ron Howard has completely ruined the movie for me without my even seeing it!
And now, I'm faced with a dilemma... should I even see the movie?? I'm afraid it'll ruin the book for me... that every time I turn the pages of my beautiful, limited-edition, illustrated version of The DVC, I'll be haunted by images of Tom Hanks' annoying, gray curls and Audrey Tattou's collagen enhanced lips running all over paris... :s Damn you, Ron Howard!!
You can tell I have too much time on my hands...
____________________________________________________________________________
Jump on board, take the ride...
-Layla
01:18
(6) comments
Youth is wasted on the young...
I was thinking about that old adage a few days ago... about how youth really is wasted on the young... Come on, think about it... All the things worth doing in life are catered to the young. Love, partying, staying out all night, passion.. all of it is specifically designed for the young and yet most of us are too tied down by societal laws, overbearing fathers and strict curfews to be able to fully exploit it.
Sure, plenty of us get around these things and find ways to enjoy ourselves regardless, but I, personally, always feel a little twinge of regret when I'm doing something I know my parents wouldn't approve of. Maybe it's the way I was brought up, maybe it's an over active conscience.. whatever it is, it keeps me from fully enjoying my youth.. and that sucks! I should be able to be reckless and live my life free and clear of all sense of responsibility ...
People expect us to grow up so fast these days... adults are so quick to shove limits and boundaries down our throats, it's a wonder any of us are creative at all.. I know my parents were always trying to protect me from things... but it has bred within me this sense that I always have to be on top of and in control of every situation I find myself in.. Like if things get out of hand, it'll have this ripple effect and the whole world will come to a screeching halt because of whatever it is that I neglected to account for.
By the time you're old enough to enjoy all those things, without feeling like you're going out of bounds when you do it, you are just that.. Too old! and whatever it is that you always wanted, but were never allowed, to do has lost it's flavor.. because most of those things, like clubbing and partying and reckless relationships and the like, are only really worth doing when it feels forbidden.. that's kinda where they derive their juiciness (so to speak.. )
So... madry... I don't really know where I'm going with any of this. There is no point at all to what I'm talking about! I'm just kinda floating things up into this wonderful, ambiguous abyss we call the net... I think I'm blogstapated...
Comments or literary directions of any kind are more than welcome...
____________________________________________________________________________
COmE aNd HaVe a GO If YoU ThInK YoU ArE HarD EnOUgh...
-Layla
Sure, plenty of us get around these things and find ways to enjoy ourselves regardless, but I, personally, always feel a little twinge of regret when I'm doing something I know my parents wouldn't approve of. Maybe it's the way I was brought up, maybe it's an over active conscience.. whatever it is, it keeps me from fully enjoying my youth.. and that sucks! I should be able to be reckless and live my life free and clear of all sense of responsibility ...
People expect us to grow up so fast these days... adults are so quick to shove limits and boundaries down our throats, it's a wonder any of us are creative at all.. I know my parents were always trying to protect me from things... but it has bred within me this sense that I always have to be on top of and in control of every situation I find myself in.. Like if things get out of hand, it'll have this ripple effect and the whole world will come to a screeching halt because of whatever it is that I neglected to account for.
By the time you're old enough to enjoy all those things, without feeling like you're going out of bounds when you do it, you are just that.. Too old! and whatever it is that you always wanted, but were never allowed, to do has lost it's flavor.. because most of those things, like clubbing and partying and reckless relationships and the like, are only really worth doing when it feels forbidden.. that's kinda where they derive their juiciness (so to speak.. )
So... madry... I don't really know where I'm going with any of this. There is no point at all to what I'm talking about! I'm just kinda floating things up into this wonderful, ambiguous abyss we call the net... I think I'm blogstapated...
Comments or literary directions of any kind are more than welcome...
____________________________________________________________________________
COmE aNd HaVe a GO If YoU ThInK YoU ArE HarD EnOUgh...
-Layla
00:51
(8) comments
Thursday, October 20, 2005
On the topic of virginity....
Where did virginity get such a bad rep?? When someone has sex for the first time they are said to have 'lost' their virginity! Lost?? If you've just had sex, I think you know exactly where your virginity has gone! Where did this event get such a bad connotation attached to it?
Why can't we spin it to the positive? Like, instead of 'losing you virginity', we can say 'found your ... sexuality' or something to that effect! And instead of saying 'gave it away', as in it was something so unwanted you couldn't wait to unload it on some poor schlub, we could say 'gifted it'....
Her: "So you really did it? you gave it away?"
Newly Deverginized Chicka: "Gave it away? No, honey. I gifted it! He's been good to me this month, so he deserved it.."
Much better, non? ;)
_________________________________________________________________
Dirrty South, we ballin' dawg!
-Layla
Why can't we spin it to the positive? Like, instead of 'losing you virginity', we can say 'found your ... sexuality' or something to that effect! And instead of saying 'gave it away', as in it was something so unwanted you couldn't wait to unload it on some poor schlub, we could say 'gifted it'....
Her: "So you really did it? you gave it away?"
Newly Deverginized Chicka: "Gave it away? No, honey. I gifted it! He's been good to me this month, so he deserved it.."
Much better, non? ;)
_________________________________________________________________
Dirrty South, we ballin' dawg!
-Layla
22:49
(4) comments
ahhh beautiful!
My dream car....
ahhh beautiful!
12:55
(2) comments
Did you know....?
The most common article of clothing thrown in anger is shoes?!
All I know is that if my shoes get thrown in anger, someone's Playstation is going out the window!
All I know is that if my shoes get thrown in anger, someone's Playstation is going out the window!
12:49
(5) comments
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
An Almost Poetic Rain
The beauty of your penmanship
continues to amaze me ;
hand & pen
move (Silently)
as one
and it's been so long since I've written a decent poem
This void (so cliché') pushes my insides out
humming, expanding
my creativity has gone into hibernation
I've been hungrily consuming every book on my shelves
It's a defense mechanism ;
I do it to try to convince myself
that I haven't lost that part of me
The me that is passionately in love with language
The me that finds solace in books
and genuine romance
only in poems of the classics
And I wish I could lick up the excesses of your Type-A personality
Like the cold, wet drippings of an ice cream cone
your sensibilities numbing my teeth
I'm starting to forget I'm alive
My soul has raised its defenses
my heart has cowered behind its walls
The quiet voices that used to whisper to me
that used to vibrate my being
have grown silent
And now my hands
just like yours
can't even comprehend the poem that lays
in breaking open an orange...
__________________________________________________________________________
-Layla
continues to amaze me ;
hand & pen
move (Silently)
as one
and it's been so long since I've written a decent poem
This void (so cliché') pushes my insides out
humming, expanding
my creativity has gone into hibernation
I've been hungrily consuming every book on my shelves
It's a defense mechanism ;
I do it to try to convince myself
that I haven't lost that part of me
The me that is passionately in love with language
The me that finds solace in books
and genuine romance
only in poems of the classics
And I wish I could lick up the excesses of your Type-A personality
Like the cold, wet drippings of an ice cream cone
your sensibilities numbing my teeth
I'm starting to forget I'm alive
My soul has raised its defenses
my heart has cowered behind its walls
The quiet voices that used to whisper to me
that used to vibrate my being
have grown silent
And now my hands
just like yours
can't even comprehend the poem that lays
in breaking open an orange...
__________________________________________________________________________
-Layla
12:59
(1) comments
Sunday, October 16, 2005
A Pause for Poetic Indulgence
In Limbo
------------
Where do you stand when your soul is in limbo
And you’re waiting for your life to begin?
Where does the line start?
Do I have to draw a number?
How far down are they?
Where do you focus your attention when fantasies
begin to bore you
and you realize that life has long since followed…?
When people don’t come through the way they’re supposed to
And dreams fail to materialize
We spend our days drenched in deceit
Avarice … Slovene in our pursuit of fancy and flight
A nation of sloth… Hungry for the quiet respite that
Laziness seems to offer
A diversion of attentions, a convergence of sins
These words, dimensions and layout
Remind me of a sideways heartbeat…
Erratic and listless
Rising and falling in waves of emotion
I feel a certain kinship with the inconsistent
Life is all about abstracts
Things of variation
Finding comfort in the ambiguous
And loving the ease with which you find yourself
lost in the lifelines of the ones you love.
-Layla
------------
Where do you stand when your soul is in limbo
And you’re waiting for your life to begin?
Where does the line start?
Do I have to draw a number?
How far down are they?
Where do you focus your attention when fantasies
begin to bore you
and you realize that life has long since followed…?
When people don’t come through the way they’re supposed to
And dreams fail to materialize
We spend our days drenched in deceit
Avarice … Slovene in our pursuit of fancy and flight
A nation of sloth… Hungry for the quiet respite that
Laziness seems to offer
A diversion of attentions, a convergence of sins
These words, dimensions and layout
Remind me of a sideways heartbeat…
Erratic and listless
Rising and falling in waves of emotion
I feel a certain kinship with the inconsistent
Life is all about abstracts
Things of variation
Finding comfort in the ambiguous
And loving the ease with which you find yourself
lost in the lifelines of the ones you love.
-Layla
15:25
(4) comments
Saturday, October 15, 2005
Coffeehouse Encounter of the Maddening Kind...
'Guys are good for nothing...' Aaliyah thought as she passed the slew of adolescent boys lingering outside the Co-op. Every time she passed them on her way to the coffeehouse, they inevitably directed a sexual innuendo her way. She honestly could not figure it out. It wasn't like she was wearing a mini-skirt and tube top! She was dressed somewhat conservatively in a blue button down blouse, jeans and flip flops. She shook her head in disgust and made her way up the steps into the coffeehouse.
Nassir was drowning in a book about the Knights Templar which had been recommended to him by a book-wormish friend. He found the history interesting even if the writing style was a little on the dry side. He looked up from his seat in the middle of Starbucks upon sensing movement at the door. His breath caught in his chest. 'Oh, shit! It's her.' He thought, picking up the heavy hardback and pressing his face into it, much too close for anyone to be able to read. He waited a few seconds and then peaked around the edge of the book. It was her. He didn't think he would ever see her again, although in hindsight, he realized it was pretty much impossible to only run into someone once in Kuwait.
'Well, that's pathetic.' She thought to herself as she strode up to the counter. She had seen him from the other side of the door as she had been walking up the steps. She also saw him hide behind his book as soon as he had seen her. She couldn't believe how sad some guys were. She pushed those thoughts out of her mind, ordered her drink, paid for it and proceeded to have a long conversation with the barista making her cup about the kinds of beans they use for their coffee.
'Shit! I am such a loser.' Nassir thought, putting his book back down on the table. He snuck a peak at her from the corner of his eye. She was engrossed in conversation with the barista about something. Her subtle confidence and mind-numbing fluidity just floored him. She was unlike any woman he had ever seen in his life. She seemed to move with a grace and purpose that commanded the room. She was, in a word, mesmerizing. She finished her conversation, picked up her drink and moved to the condiments bar. He lifted the book up off the table and held it up in front of his face, although, at a more reasonable distance this time.
She shook the sugar into her drink and stirred it in, all the while watching him buried in his stupid book. Why wasn't he looking at her? She had felt him looking when she was waiting for her drink, but now he seemed genuinely absorbed in his book. She didn't know what it was about him that intrigued her, but she was intrigued nonetheless. She stole a glance at the title... 'The Templar Revelation: Secret Guardians of the True Identity of Christ. Interesting.' She thought to herself as she replaced the cap on her drink.
His eyes scanned the page he was on, but took in nothing of value. He was unconsciously or deliberately paying attention to her every move. He felt her finish up at the condiments bar and move towards the door. She passed in front of him and seemed to hesitate for a nano-second. He held his breath and looked over the top of his book to find that she had suddenly materialized at his table.
"It's dry, right?" She said to him with a straight face.
"Excuse me?"
"The book." She replied, nodding towards his hands for added emphasis.
"Oh! Yeah... a little... Have you read it?" He asked, silently amazed that he was actually having a conversation with her. She remained silent for a moment following his question, then she cocked her head to the side and said...
"Check out 'Holy Blood, Holy Grail'... It's more fluid." She gave him a smile, turned around and walked out the door.
And just like that, the conversation was over.
___________________________________________________________________________
When it's over, is it really over?
-Layla
Nassir was drowning in a book about the Knights Templar which had been recommended to him by a book-wormish friend. He found the history interesting even if the writing style was a little on the dry side. He looked up from his seat in the middle of Starbucks upon sensing movement at the door. His breath caught in his chest. 'Oh, shit! It's her.' He thought, picking up the heavy hardback and pressing his face into it, much too close for anyone to be able to read. He waited a few seconds and then peaked around the edge of the book. It was her. He didn't think he would ever see her again, although in hindsight, he realized it was pretty much impossible to only run into someone once in Kuwait.
'Well, that's pathetic.' She thought to herself as she strode up to the counter. She had seen him from the other side of the door as she had been walking up the steps. She also saw him hide behind his book as soon as he had seen her. She couldn't believe how sad some guys were. She pushed those thoughts out of her mind, ordered her drink, paid for it and proceeded to have a long conversation with the barista making her cup about the kinds of beans they use for their coffee.
'Shit! I am such a loser.' Nassir thought, putting his book back down on the table. He snuck a peak at her from the corner of his eye. She was engrossed in conversation with the barista about something. Her subtle confidence and mind-numbing fluidity just floored him. She was unlike any woman he had ever seen in his life. She seemed to move with a grace and purpose that commanded the room. She was, in a word, mesmerizing. She finished her conversation, picked up her drink and moved to the condiments bar. He lifted the book up off the table and held it up in front of his face, although, at a more reasonable distance this time.
She shook the sugar into her drink and stirred it in, all the while watching him buried in his stupid book. Why wasn't he looking at her? She had felt him looking when she was waiting for her drink, but now he seemed genuinely absorbed in his book. She didn't know what it was about him that intrigued her, but she was intrigued nonetheless. She stole a glance at the title... 'The Templar Revelation: Secret Guardians of the True Identity of Christ. Interesting.' She thought to herself as she replaced the cap on her drink.
His eyes scanned the page he was on, but took in nothing of value. He was unconsciously or deliberately paying attention to her every move. He felt her finish up at the condiments bar and move towards the door. She passed in front of him and seemed to hesitate for a nano-second. He held his breath and looked over the top of his book to find that she had suddenly materialized at his table.
"It's dry, right?" She said to him with a straight face.
"Excuse me?"
"The book." She replied, nodding towards his hands for added emphasis.
"Oh! Yeah... a little... Have you read it?" He asked, silently amazed that he was actually having a conversation with her. She remained silent for a moment following his question, then she cocked her head to the side and said...
"Check out 'Holy Blood, Holy Grail'... It's more fluid." She gave him a smile, turned around and walked out the door.
And just like that, the conversation was over.
___________________________________________________________________________
When it's over, is it really over?
-Layla
00:35
(2) comments
Sunday, October 09, 2005
Maish, primpin' and preenin'
I spent four hours at the salon today... 3 - 7 pm! Yup, I missed fo6oor... All for the sake of understandably gorgeous, understated highlights ( A side-bar for the guys: I say understandably 'cos gorgeous does not come without a price). But as I was sitting under the heating lamp, while my highlights cooked, I wondered why we women feel the need to go through such agony?
I'll tell you why... It's because every girl, at some point or another, surrenders to the need to be deemed acceptable by society's standards. Now, whether we women put this pressure on ourselves or not is besides the point. The point is that the pressure is there. It's like a ringing phone, sooner or later you have to answer.
Guys can't possibly understand this. For a guy, the simple act of bathing deserves a medal... and if he manages a shave or a haircut, then goddamnit he needs an Oscar! And so, men, with their infinite insight, berate and belittle a woman's effort to look nice. They chide us for spending so much time preening and primping. I find that interesting.. I mean, if men didn't value looks so much, why do they ogle and drool everytime Nancy or Shakira or that Bimbette Haifa come on?? I know they don't think those divas rolled out of bed looking like that.. Have you ever heard a guy say he likes Nancy because she has such a great personality?? or Elissa because she's such a good judge of character?? neither have I....
Difficult as this may sound, guys... girls do not go through these ordeals for your sakes.. or at least they very rarely do. Most of the time, a girl sits in a frickin' hairdressers chair for four hours because she wants to show up other girls or quite simply so that she can feel comfortable with the way she looks. At least that's why I spent so long there.. because I was sick of my hair color and needed a change.. and you know what? it was totally worth it!!
Here's another (although admittedly less lofty ) thought I had while the hairdresser was sishwarring my hair... Why can't someone invent a cordless hairdryer?? I must have gotten whacked with that damn dryer cord at least twenty times! Plus, I could tell she was getting irritated with having to untangle the cord from the seat every two seconds... They can come up with twenty thousand different ways to improve upon a toothbrush and yet no one has thought to advance the hairdryer! Go figure...
And finally, here is a question that illustrates one of the cruel ironies of life... why do my bangs like my hairdresser more than me??
_______________________________________________________________________
Shake it till the moon becomes the sun,
Layla
I'll tell you why... It's because every girl, at some point or another, surrenders to the need to be deemed acceptable by society's standards. Now, whether we women put this pressure on ourselves or not is besides the point. The point is that the pressure is there. It's like a ringing phone, sooner or later you have to answer.
Guys can't possibly understand this. For a guy, the simple act of bathing deserves a medal... and if he manages a shave or a haircut, then goddamnit he needs an Oscar! And so, men, with their infinite insight, berate and belittle a woman's effort to look nice. They chide us for spending so much time preening and primping. I find that interesting.. I mean, if men didn't value looks so much, why do they ogle and drool everytime Nancy or Shakira or that Bimbette Haifa come on?? I know they don't think those divas rolled out of bed looking like that.. Have you ever heard a guy say he likes Nancy because she has such a great personality?? or Elissa because she's such a good judge of character?? neither have I....
Difficult as this may sound, guys... girls do not go through these ordeals for your sakes.. or at least they very rarely do. Most of the time, a girl sits in a frickin' hairdressers chair for four hours because she wants to show up other girls or quite simply so that she can feel comfortable with the way she looks. At least that's why I spent so long there.. because I was sick of my hair color and needed a change.. and you know what? it was totally worth it!!
Here's another (although admittedly less lofty ) thought I had while the hairdresser was sishwarring my hair... Why can't someone invent a cordless hairdryer?? I must have gotten whacked with that damn dryer cord at least twenty times! Plus, I could tell she was getting irritated with having to untangle the cord from the seat every two seconds... They can come up with twenty thousand different ways to improve upon a toothbrush and yet no one has thought to advance the hairdryer! Go figure...
And finally, here is a question that illustrates one of the cruel ironies of life... why do my bangs like my hairdresser more than me??
_______________________________________________________________________
Shake it till the moon becomes the sun,
Layla
20:03
(9) comments
ahhhh... summer!
Saturday, October 08, 2005
ahhhh... summer!
15:17
(1) comments
Lifted from the Jason Mraz Website.. I thought it was funny!
06.26.2005
Off the Florida, Please
Get there fast. Take it slow. Those are the wise words of my least favorite song in the entire world, Kokomo, by the Mike Love rendition of the Beach Boys. I’m not sure if I’ve ever posted that comment about how I cringe when I hear it. If I have, it bares repeating, in case my love for the beach translates years later into having that song played at my funeral. I prefer to steer clear of posthumous unpleasantries like that. (Is unpleasantries a word yet? It very well should be. I’ve been using it for years.)
Disliking Kokomo is an acquired hate by the way. When the song came out I was an eager sixth grader, smart enough to make his own music choices and I was first in line to buy the cassette to Cocktail the Movie where I had known the song to be released. I was extra stoked that Uncle Jesse (from Full House not Dukes of Hazzard, though that would’ve been keen!) was playing percussion. My school friend Rod and I even made a music video to the thing after soccer practice. He pretended to shred the sax solo on a trumpet. We were in school band at the time but I had already given up the trumpet because it was difficult to sing and be a hot dog with heavy twisted brass in my mouth already. My role was to mime the words and look like a southern sophisticate with attributes of Tom Cruise’s character in the film and Jimmy Buffet. Our production included a strobe light, a sofa bed, and that trumpet I no longer cared for. Years later I’d use the trumpet as trade for my first guitar at MechanicsvilleMusic.com
Somewhere along the accidental route that thieves use to try to steal my youth, it occurred to me that the harmonies in Kokomo are supernatural and shouldn’t be acknowledged by anyone. It’s like placing two mirrors toward each other. That’s how evil enters our universe according to Extra-Spiritual Home Interior Monthly, a magazine I’ve made up in my head to please me when things go wrong at home and I have to relocate some furniture or kill a spider. I don’t like to harm things but sometimes my fear needs an ego boost and I must do what I have to do. We had bees a few months ago and instead of just destroying the hive in our rafters we found a specialist who rounds the little stingers up like cattle and takes them away in a bucket to a new location. It’s a bizarre process but even more so it’s an oddball profession. The guy is as much a bee lover as I am an Anti-Kokomo Un-thusiast.
There’s a game called “Would you rather…” the object is to come up with two random activities and ask someone if they’d rather do one or the other. Such as, “Would you rather streak your local Sunday morning church service or french kiss your grandmother?” the idea is to make it nasty or gross so the person on the receiving end has difficulty deciding and must actually think out the scenario in their heads, which in turn causes mental traffic and/or permanent brain damage. The best question I ever came up with was, “If in your car, there could only be one song that played over and over again at maximum volume, and you couldn’t do anything about it, such as turn it off or sell the car. Everywhere you went this song blasted, making it incredibly uncomfortable when other people rode around with you. (Actually making it impossible for others to ride with you because they’d never elect to take ‘your car’.) Would you rather the song be Kokomo, by the Beach Boys, or Electric Slide by whoever it is?” That is by far the most difficult question I have come up with, ever.
I don’t know what brought on this Kokomo awareness issue. I think it has to do with our long weekend in Florida. Maybe the sunburn on my brow went deeper than anticipated while playing golf again yesterday. I usually beat the skin fire with water. Being a well-watered body makes you able to withstand all sorts of common calamity, thus making you somewhat of a super-hero on a local level. The guys I play golf with drink yoo-hoo. Apparently what that does for you is make you better at golf.
I should add that I don’t play golf, at least not before this summer’s tour. Being the envy to office managers, business nerds, and cigar smokers everywhere seemed like the perfect way to spend a summer. We get to tout around in an air conditioned RV, dress like pimps, and play some of the finest AND ghetto links in the country. I used to knock balls around our yard when I was in high school so I’m familiar with the sport. But I honestly do suck. Each game is an improvement however and the goal is be shooting average by October when we hold our first annual Mraz Invitational in Las Vegas. We’re still working out the details but perhaps you can come and watch us suck under the Bob Hope’s Desert Classic sun.
It just occurred to me that there IS a place called Kokomo. I mean, I knew the Beach Boys were telling the truth, but I never actually thought about the innocent civilians and residents of the island. Do you think the song is played there often? Maybe during parades at least? Do you think they need our help? I’m sure it’s too late for them. An envelope addressed, 1-1-2-2 Boogie Boogie Avenue, Kokomo, sounds delightful. But the poor mailmen probably get that song stuck in their heads as often as the yard dogs get their teeth stuck in the mailman’s boot. I guess the pay-off for both man and beast is that everywhere you look on the island of Kokomo you find bodies in the sand, tropical drinks melting in your hand, and soon be falling in love to the rhythm of a steel drum band. Down in Kokomo sounds picturesque. But thanks to the theme song, the only place I prefer to picture it is on the side of a milk carton.
Fun Fact: Florida absorbs and consumes the most energy in the universe because of the high concentration of air conditioners humming at the same time, while keeping summertime a chilly 38 degrees indoors everywhere. Artificial winter weather preserves the elderly apparently.
www.jasonmraz.com/journal/
________________________________________________________________________
I'm pickin' up good vibrations...
Layla
Off the Florida, Please
Get there fast. Take it slow. Those are the wise words of my least favorite song in the entire world, Kokomo, by the Mike Love rendition of the Beach Boys. I’m not sure if I’ve ever posted that comment about how I cringe when I hear it. If I have, it bares repeating, in case my love for the beach translates years later into having that song played at my funeral. I prefer to steer clear of posthumous unpleasantries like that. (Is unpleasantries a word yet? It very well should be. I’ve been using it for years.)
Disliking Kokomo is an acquired hate by the way. When the song came out I was an eager sixth grader, smart enough to make his own music choices and I was first in line to buy the cassette to Cocktail the Movie where I had known the song to be released. I was extra stoked that Uncle Jesse (from Full House not Dukes of Hazzard, though that would’ve been keen!) was playing percussion. My school friend Rod and I even made a music video to the thing after soccer practice. He pretended to shred the sax solo on a trumpet. We were in school band at the time but I had already given up the trumpet because it was difficult to sing and be a hot dog with heavy twisted brass in my mouth already. My role was to mime the words and look like a southern sophisticate with attributes of Tom Cruise’s character in the film and Jimmy Buffet. Our production included a strobe light, a sofa bed, and that trumpet I no longer cared for. Years later I’d use the trumpet as trade for my first guitar at MechanicsvilleMusic.com
Somewhere along the accidental route that thieves use to try to steal my youth, it occurred to me that the harmonies in Kokomo are supernatural and shouldn’t be acknowledged by anyone. It’s like placing two mirrors toward each other. That’s how evil enters our universe according to Extra-Spiritual Home Interior Monthly, a magazine I’ve made up in my head to please me when things go wrong at home and I have to relocate some furniture or kill a spider. I don’t like to harm things but sometimes my fear needs an ego boost and I must do what I have to do. We had bees a few months ago and instead of just destroying the hive in our rafters we found a specialist who rounds the little stingers up like cattle and takes them away in a bucket to a new location. It’s a bizarre process but even more so it’s an oddball profession. The guy is as much a bee lover as I am an Anti-Kokomo Un-thusiast.
There’s a game called “Would you rather…” the object is to come up with two random activities and ask someone if they’d rather do one or the other. Such as, “Would you rather streak your local Sunday morning church service or french kiss your grandmother?” the idea is to make it nasty or gross so the person on the receiving end has difficulty deciding and must actually think out the scenario in their heads, which in turn causes mental traffic and/or permanent brain damage. The best question I ever came up with was, “If in your car, there could only be one song that played over and over again at maximum volume, and you couldn’t do anything about it, such as turn it off or sell the car. Everywhere you went this song blasted, making it incredibly uncomfortable when other people rode around with you. (Actually making it impossible for others to ride with you because they’d never elect to take ‘your car’.) Would you rather the song be Kokomo, by the Beach Boys, or Electric Slide by whoever it is?” That is by far the most difficult question I have come up with, ever.
I don’t know what brought on this Kokomo awareness issue. I think it has to do with our long weekend in Florida. Maybe the sunburn on my brow went deeper than anticipated while playing golf again yesterday. I usually beat the skin fire with water. Being a well-watered body makes you able to withstand all sorts of common calamity, thus making you somewhat of a super-hero on a local level. The guys I play golf with drink yoo-hoo. Apparently what that does for you is make you better at golf.
I should add that I don’t play golf, at least not before this summer’s tour. Being the envy to office managers, business nerds, and cigar smokers everywhere seemed like the perfect way to spend a summer. We get to tout around in an air conditioned RV, dress like pimps, and play some of the finest AND ghetto links in the country. I used to knock balls around our yard when I was in high school so I’m familiar with the sport. But I honestly do suck. Each game is an improvement however and the goal is be shooting average by October when we hold our first annual Mraz Invitational in Las Vegas. We’re still working out the details but perhaps you can come and watch us suck under the Bob Hope’s Desert Classic sun.
It just occurred to me that there IS a place called Kokomo. I mean, I knew the Beach Boys were telling the truth, but I never actually thought about the innocent civilians and residents of the island. Do you think the song is played there often? Maybe during parades at least? Do you think they need our help? I’m sure it’s too late for them. An envelope addressed, 1-1-2-2 Boogie Boogie Avenue, Kokomo, sounds delightful. But the poor mailmen probably get that song stuck in their heads as often as the yard dogs get their teeth stuck in the mailman’s boot. I guess the pay-off for both man and beast is that everywhere you look on the island of Kokomo you find bodies in the sand, tropical drinks melting in your hand, and soon be falling in love to the rhythm of a steel drum band. Down in Kokomo sounds picturesque. But thanks to the theme song, the only place I prefer to picture it is on the side of a milk carton.
Fun Fact: Florida absorbs and consumes the most energy in the universe because of the high concentration of air conditioners humming at the same time, while keeping summertime a chilly 38 degrees indoors everywhere. Artificial winter weather preserves the elderly apparently.
www.jasonmraz.com/journal/
________________________________________________________________________
I'm pickin' up good vibrations...
Layla
03:49
(5) comments
Friday, October 07, 2005
Ramadan Kareem or Every Man for Himself?
Is it just me or does Ramadhan tend to bring out the worst in people??
Bazaar just came out and in my top ten list this month, I wrote down that one thing I love about this month is how much calmer it makes everyone seem... And you know what? I used to believe that... (Does anyone but me notice that the word believe contains the word 'lie' right in the middle of it?? spooky!) Anyway, I believed it up until last night when I encountered the most horrific and blood-boiling traffic jam I have ever been in.
It was on al-bidi3 road.. the traffic was stopped at the al-rumaithiya light and NOBODY was moving... I swear, I was four cars from the light and the light must have changed twenty times without us even moving an inch!! What the hell?? At first, I thought maybe the traffic was backed up from the al-bidi3 circle (what with all the construction going on) but noooooooo... it was backed up for no discernable reason! There were cops parked in the middle of the road and they were trying to direct traffic, but only ended up making it worse....
We must have sat at the light for thirty minutes and of course kuwaitis, with their infinite patience, were climbing over the divider (i6igoon ri9eef!) and forcing everyone to get out of their way. This chick (I'd call her something else, but I'm fasting) just rammed into my car! She had been sitting behind me for the last fifteen minutes, we hadn't moved an inch, I was in PARK and she rams into me! I was too upset to even get out of the car and see what happened so I ignored it. Then, to add insult to injury, when we finally got moving this car swerves into me (As if he/she can't see my big-a** gold GMC) and scraps off a piece of my bumper!! What the hell, people??
Ramadhan is supposed to be about forgiveness and high morals so I let both of the idiots who rammed me off without so much as an obscene hand gesture... Allah Kareem... But I ain't driving anywhere but to work and Starbucks ( Anything for Starbucks :D) for the rest of the month!
Bazaar just came out and in my top ten list this month, I wrote down that one thing I love about this month is how much calmer it makes everyone seem... And you know what? I used to believe that... (Does anyone but me notice that the word believe contains the word 'lie' right in the middle of it?? spooky!) Anyway, I believed it up until last night when I encountered the most horrific and blood-boiling traffic jam I have ever been in.
It was on al-bidi3 road.. the traffic was stopped at the al-rumaithiya light and NOBODY was moving... I swear, I was four cars from the light and the light must have changed twenty times without us even moving an inch!! What the hell?? At first, I thought maybe the traffic was backed up from the al-bidi3 circle (what with all the construction going on) but noooooooo... it was backed up for no discernable reason! There were cops parked in the middle of the road and they were trying to direct traffic, but only ended up making it worse....
We must have sat at the light for thirty minutes and of course kuwaitis, with their infinite patience, were climbing over the divider (i6igoon ri9eef!) and forcing everyone to get out of their way. This chick (I'd call her something else, but I'm fasting) just rammed into my car! She had been sitting behind me for the last fifteen minutes, we hadn't moved an inch, I was in PARK and she rams into me! I was too upset to even get out of the car and see what happened so I ignored it. Then, to add insult to injury, when we finally got moving this car swerves into me (As if he/she can't see my big-a** gold GMC) and scraps off a piece of my bumper!! What the hell, people??
Ramadhan is supposed to be about forgiveness and high morals so I let both of the idiots who rammed me off without so much as an obscene hand gesture... Allah Kareem... But I ain't driving anywhere but to work and Starbucks ( Anything for Starbucks :D) for the rest of the month!
15:31
(4) comments
Monday, October 03, 2005
minions of the anti-christ...?
I'm convinced the Backstreet Boys work for the devil.
Every single time I hear one of their songs on the radio, not only do I somehow know the song by heart, but I also inevitably end up singing along!!! Me?!?! I can not STAND the Backstreet Boys or their music, so how in the hell is this possible?? I'll tell you how it's possible... it's possible because DJ Lucifer has taken over 99.7! How else do you explain the fact that everytime you turn the dial to that station, you hear that stupid " I'm miiissiiing you!" song by the Boys!!??
The Backstreet Boys are turning into the boy band version of Mariah Carey... you can not 'Shake, Shake, Shake them off'!! :P I understand that there are people out there who really like them, but come on! Why subject the rest of us (who have good taste in music) to the pain of listening to them everytime we turn to the superstation?? The Backstreet Boys 24/7 coupled with the speech-impaired DJ's... I don't think I can take much more of it....
Satan is in the building, Y'all!
Layla
Every single time I hear one of their songs on the radio, not only do I somehow know the song by heart, but I also inevitably end up singing along!!! Me?!?! I can not STAND the Backstreet Boys or their music, so how in the hell is this possible?? I'll tell you how it's possible... it's possible because DJ Lucifer has taken over 99.7! How else do you explain the fact that everytime you turn the dial to that station, you hear that stupid " I'm miiissiiing you!" song by the Boys!!??
The Backstreet Boys are turning into the boy band version of Mariah Carey... you can not 'Shake, Shake, Shake them off'!! :P I understand that there are people out there who really like them, but come on! Why subject the rest of us (who have good taste in music) to the pain of listening to them everytime we turn to the superstation?? The Backstreet Boys 24/7 coupled with the speech-impaired DJ's... I don't think I can take much more of it....
Satan is in the building, Y'all!
Layla
10:23
(12) comments