I Want to Die a Long Horrible Death

But it is 7aram to wish ill on oneself so I will be asking for your help :P

I am so so so so so so so utterly pissed now it isn’t even funny. I guess now I understand what my cousin went through last summer. I have been planing this great holiday escape with my best friend to the weirdest place you’d find bachelor men in: The Maldives. Why? Because I want to go there, relax, read a good book, tan, take photos and watch someone drown whilst snorkeling.

Yes I could do it here in Dubai. Yes I could do it anywhere on the UAE coast. Yes I can go to anyplace in the Indian Ocean or Mauritius or a place where bachelor men don’t have the disadvantage.

But do I care? NO, I don’t, because I want to escape city life, go to a blue open water, and enjoy being 7ay ibn yaqthan.

My best friend was so excited about the trip. I worked the whole nine yards, where we’d be staying, the booking, etc, everything. Then ONE STUPID PERSON somehow convinced my best friend it is a couples-only place, and every single thing he found GREAT, he found an excuse against it.

How ridiculous!

FINE, it is a romantic place. Go hit on a turtle, for all I care! Enjoy the friggin serenity for a few days! You get to feed frigging shrimps to a frigging whale shark whilst diving!

I actually booked this very room you see in this very photo

He started planning for Malaysia but I was so pissed off he canceled the thing after I showed him attitude. I convinced myself to go to Malaysia and got excited about it, and even found reservations and what have you, but he just bailed out completely. Heck I even found a Maldives-like island we can go relax in for a couple of days and I made sure it isn’t for humpers only. I was doing all that whilst supervising the cabling for our new data center in one of the most hazardous working environments ever (next post), in a frigging basement with close to nil coverage.

I haven’t had a holiday since December 2005 and when I FINALLY get FIVE FRIGGIN DAYS OFF, this crap happens!

It’s my fault I wasn’t very tolerant to change in plans – but he knows me and my circumstances better than to be pissed off at me for being pissed off at him. Ya3ni he’s straight-headed enough to tame Moogle very well in these situations!

But I am just so goddamn angry – and I know I shouldn’t be – and I am seeing my only five days off slowly crumble away. I swear I am THIS close to lactating from my eyeballs.

I still own my cousin a trip to Istanbul (which I won’t go to without him). I should have just picked 3 of my readers and paid their trips to come visit me here. Hmm… anyone willing to visit me sometime in autumn? Qwaider is definitely on the list of invitees; there are lots of gals I know who need bashing! LOOOL.

Anyway I know my friend will change his mind – I did threaten him just a few minutes ago and he said we’d talk tomorrow, lol – but nothing wrong with anonymous complaining, right?!


Trip to Syria pt 2 – Sightseeing!

My photoblog is ready but just needs a little brushing up, therefore I thought it best not to postpone this post here and I would be posting some other photos on my photoblog once it is read (should be done in these two days – I just need to edit the header now that my hair has grown back :D )

Alright, anyway, on to the important stuff. I stayed in Syria for 5 days only. I spent the morning and the late nights with granny, and the rest of the day I was out with my best friend, his fiance and all of the rest of the gang… well, not all of them since most of them were out of town. I will post on my best friend later as part 3 of this trip.

I went one day to Safita, my village. I called up Abu Fares and said hi, but apologized for not being able to make it to Tartous which is incredibly close to Safita (and on a clear sky is visible from the Safatly mountains). The other Kinan was also there, and he SMSed me that it was raining. At that time I was under the rain taking photos on my way out of the village. I was only going to Safita for 3/4th of a day and I had to spend it seeing my family there. I saw dad’s side of the family (mom’s side is in Damascus). They were all nice and jolly as usual, which is what I like about brief trips. Staying there for prolonged periods inevitably surfaces many pending family issues, so it was a great idea just to make a brief visit and enjoy the moment.

My grandpa’s health has improved. He has been suffering with some issues in his hands, which made him very sad because it made him stop his job, what he likes doing best – his blacksmith business. Yup, my grandpa is a blacksmith! He has been hitting with the hammer since he was a kid. He’s a pretty strong man ;) Funnily, at the age of 90, he still didn’t stop smoking. He has been smoking for 80 years, he makes and wraps his own cigs. I told him several times to stop smoking but there is little you can do to convince a 90 year old to stop an 80 year old habit.

Back in Damascus, I spent half a day at the Ancient City itself, which was a bit sad because I had little time to take photos and enjoy the place (I usually spend most of my summer holidays there). I didn’t even go inside the Umayyad Mosque to take photos. In fact I didn’t take any proper photos of places, because I didn’t bring my tripod with me and because most of the landscapes I wanted to shoot were now occupied by the military (and my dad is paranoid so I didn’t take a risk).


Have you ever cared for someone,
You’d die if you made them sad?
You’d rather burn in the sun
And it would never feel that bad.

You give and give and never ask back,
And you refuse because it won’t feel right.
But all you do is burden your sack,
And drop another straw on your plight.

You keep your silence and your smiles
When the one you care for begins to scold.
Then you walk away the miles
Alone in the damp streets and cold.

You think of how to set things back
To the way they were supposed to be.
But all you do is to lose track
Of your emotions in the open sea.

And then your thoughts drag you down
A path so long, twisted and dark.
And your emotions you lose to own
And become your guiding ark.

The good times, and the bad,
They all return in a flash.
You realize what you once had,
Now a torn paper in the trash.

You reach your home and open the door,
And you hope that you would see
Her sitting on the couch waiting for
A smile to set you free.

And then she says “let’s walk the shore,
Because I do care about you and me”.

On a cold Tuesday, the 22nd of March 2005

Five People You’d Want to Maim

This week I will be celebrating the anniversary of my 5-year stay in the UAE by introducing to you a bunch of completely bizarre human beings who give a reason for the “homo” in “homo sapiens”.

When I was in university, one of those days my friend Hamza was told he would be entering the ACM competition in Cairo or Kuwait or wherver it was, that was not important. Before he left, he introduced me to an oddball by the name of HK, and not, that’s not a fashion brand. Immedietly we hit it off, and as everything that sparks quickly, it ends even quicker.

This guy had serious, serious issues, all of which are unfortunately in his rather intelligent head. When you hear him tell you his story you cannot even agree to comprehened the amount of shit this guy went to, all before the age of 17. I mean, no offence to Oprah, but this guy’s issues could beat hers everyday. But unlike Oprah, who took an active role in changing the universe, all this guy managed to change is the casing of the battery charger on his laptop (techinically he just taped it). He kept to his room, protecting himself from the throat-drying, coarse atmosphere of the Earth. He’s probably sensitive to all the CFCs and ozone depletion, although the grave of a vampire dating 1,000,000 BC would have fresher air than his room. Eventually this guy became the Ghost of the Dorm, and his infectious sleeping disorder has spread through whatever ventilation was there and rendered all the resident of the dorms wakeless puppets. Resident Evil indeed.

The only friend (other than me) who the Ghost had is Sa3adet El Safeer (translation: His Excellency) Kilo Gel. Imagine Al Gore. Now imagine Al Gore going into a gel factory and directly pouring that day’s harvest onto his pulp of hair. Now groom it with the finest brush into a mullet and you get an overweight dildo with a fancy hairdo you can only find in high-quality European porn. His Excellency Kilo Gel is also a pedophile as he preys on unsuspecting freshwomen. He is now sadly married to a woman who probably is so desperate she would marry Al Gore. The Gore in the name is there for a reason, you know.

If he isn’t the one preying on the freshwomen, it is Mr. DJ-WannaBe-OMG-Look-at-my-hair. If His Excellency had hair problems, at least it was on his head. WannaBe has body hair problems. He has only one string of hair which wraps around his whole body in a disgusting black cocoon. Being deprived love and affection in childhood tries his best to impress everyone with what he assumes is DJ. He needs to update his dictionary or he’s probably looking up the word “Fucked Up Loser” and following the definition. Heck, we might as well suggest to Oxford to have “Fucked Up Loser” as a definition to his name. I mean, if Rachel Ray can get a word as ridiculous as EVOO into a dictionary (what was she thinking?) we probably can coin a much more useful word to be used in and out of the kitchen.

WannaBe has his own circle of friends, all of whom are more mentally handicapped that a 1 hour old fetus. Two in particular are VW-On-Fire and PMSing Unpaid Bitch. VW-On-Fire has serious ego problems, and is the opposite of Wannabe. This guy got SO much attention in childhood and he doesn’t even consider the possibility that he is more worthless than a piece of dry shit with 99.9% discount in the $1 store. Talk about walking with your nose up high – this guy’s nostrils are aimed at a 90 degree angle from his body (that’s horizontal if you’re still calculating). Since of course his face would be positioned so that he only looks up, he probably hit one too many archs, mailboxes, glass doors, and a WannaBe that a brick has more IQ than he does.

Of course, each campus needs a news broadcaster, and this is where PMSing Unpaid Bitch comes into play. She literally has no former life, and she lives on other people’s miseries, and if they are happy she would make them miserable. She would create dramas that put Spanish soap operas to shame and center then around herself. Then she expects sympathy out of everyone so that they tell her their secrets, then she goes and broadcasts them like a military loudspeaker. And don’t start with when she doesn’t get laid. ROCKET FIRE!

There are just too many to mention and keep track of in one blog. I’d write about the rest some other day maybe. Till the next episode of the celebration, don’t be like any of the above people. I’d hate you. I’d hunt you down and let you eat your own placenta. Even if you’re a guy.