Archive for February, 2009

Twenty-one birthday wishes

February 23, 2009

So for those of you who know me, my birthday’s on Wednesday. For those of you who don’t know me, my birthday’s on Wednesday. So regardless, none of you have an excuse to not send me presents. To make the process a bit easier, I have taken the liberty to compile a list of desired gifts. I trust you will find a way to make all my dreams come true… Here’s what I want:

  1. A talking lion, like the one from Narnia. But a real one, not a CGI one.
  2. A money tree. Preferably a very leafy one, with large bills. But, you know, anything’ll do. Whatever you can get your hands on.
  3. Skinny jeans.
  4. The new MacBook Pro. Any size’ll do.
  5. My own amusement park (complete with water slide! *schwing!*)
  6. The full DVD set of all the South Park episodes ever made.
  7. New friends. Not that my current friends suck or anything… *wink!*
  8. A lifetime supply of hummus and/or black licorice.
  9. A Bugatti Veyron car.
  10. Any kind of superpower. But a cool superpower like flying or shooting lasers from my eyes or being invisible or something, not a lame one like… I dunno, being stretchy or turning into a big angry green monster.
  11. A time machine that works in both directions. If this is too difficult to acquire, I’d prefer one that transports to the past rather than the future.
  12. Genetically-engineered bunnies that double as slaves.
  13. A program that enables me to hack into the university’s system and give me 100% in all my classes.
  14. Blue suede shoes.
  15. A brain transplant? Perhaps?
  16. Free tickets to Aquaventure and any upcoming concerts I might be interested in for the next five years.
  17. My very own underground ice-skating rink that’s at least ten acres in area.
  18. A fancy-schmancy camera with a lot of awesome features.
  19. A jar full of rainbows.
  20. A zoo of mythical creatures.
  21. Ray Bans.

Well what are you waiting for? You have two days! Aaaand… go.

Lyrical Injustice.

February 22, 2009

I have just boarded a plane, without a pilot. Now I’m flying so high with the world down below. See the stars flirting ’round my vision, ’cause fire is the devil’s only friend.

Does anybody know a way that a body could get away? 

Spin me round again, and rub my eyes – this can’t be happening… Trapped in this incomprehensible maze.

Heaven is overrated.

Insane in the membrane

February 12, 2009

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Yes, this is what happens when two crazy people converse on MSN.

Crop circles in the popcorn

February 12, 2009

The other day (on Monday, to be exact), Omar was telling me something about how hazardous cell phones are, because they emit all kinds of weird radiation. Enough, he said, to pop a kernel of corn. So I did some research and found out that it’s actually a hoax because every article I found pertaining to a cell phone’s ability to pop corn debunked this theory. But whatever. My level of concentration was now hindered because I could no longer focus on Bayes’ Theorem and instead craved some delicious popcorn.

I went to sleep that night and found myself on a Greyhound bus in the middle of nowhere. I was getting a headache because everyone was talking on the phone, the bus driver was playing some shitty country music, and the scenery was too flat and agricultural for my liking. Plus, I was craving popcorn.

Then I got a brilliant idea. I walked to the front of the bus, pulled a gun out of my bag, and pointed it at the driver. “Just keep driving,” I told him. “All right, everybody listen up!” I shouted. “I need everyone to walk up to the front of the bus one-by-one and put their phone in this bag. And don’t try anything stupid, or I’ll kill us all!” I said, and released the safety. Immediately everyone hung up their phones and sure enough, one-by-one, starting from the front row, they did as they were told. 

After I had everyone’s phone in my bag, I told the driver to pull over, which he did, and then I jumped out of the bus and ran into the field. A corn field. A big corn field.

I kept running until I suddenly found a huge flat patch, which was perfectly circular in a creepy, alien sort of way. I quickly deducted that I must be standing in the middle of a crop circle. An excellent starting point for phase one of my brilliant plan.

I sat down and emptied my bag of goodies. And since dreams do weird things, the bag which once contained about twenty phones now contained about two thousand. Sweet. I started lining them up around the edge of the circle, pointing them outwards, toward the unflattened corn. Once that was finished, I walked through the field until I reached the outer perimeter. I then started lining up the phones around the square of field, this time pointing them inwards, towards the corn. So for those of you who are imaginationally impaired and have no idea what I’m getting at, I basically did the same thing as selecting a circle in Photoshop and then clicking Select>Inverse. Get it? Good.

Once all my phones were in place, I went around setting alarms. They were all set to go off at exactly the same time. I started with the square perimeter and then did the circumference of the circle last, and when I finished, I had about five minutes to get the hell out of there. But where would I go?! I didn’t really think that part through. So I quickly made a little trench in the center of the circle, took cover, and waited.

Three… Two… One.

The explosion was like ten times more powerful than Hiroshima and Nagasaki combined. It was ridiiiiiiculous. Popcorn just started flying around everywhere! And you can calculate that if there are about four stalks per square meter, and each stalk has about five ears of corn, and each ear has about five hundred kernels, and I blew up about a hundred thousand square meters of field, that’s… (4 x 5 x 500, that’s 20 x 500, that’s 10,000 kernels per square meter, times 100,000, that’s…) holy shit, like 1,000,000,000 kernels of corn! A billion! Woah. Yeah so like I was saying, it was ridiculous.

As the corn started popping, however, I began suffocating. Because I was getting trapped under the weight of billion(s) of pieces of popcorn. So I had to almost swim my way through, in order to surface and be able to breathe normally. But the whole swimming thing didn’t really work, so I also had to actually eat my way through. Which at first was amazing, because my craving was finally satisfied. But I quickly became full, and desperately needed something to drink. Like movie theatre soda or something. Alas, I was in the middle of Nebraska or Oklahoma or something, so there was no movie theatre around. And the nearest well was probably all soaked up by now, because the popcorn was still popping. 

Eventually I made my way to the top of all this craziness, and I could now kinda splash my way around. It was a similar feeling to playing in those huge vats of colourful, germ-ridden balls as a child. Only better.

As with most dreams, my fun had to end at some point. But instead of just waking up as I normally do, this dream took a horrible turn. In the distance, I saw a huge flying saucer flying at me at warp speed. It was honking and swerving and high-beaming me and everything. Those aliens were pissed. Like, really pissed. And if there’s one thing I know about aliens, it’s never to get them angry. Because they have laboratories and death rays and all kinds of other stuff to make your life hell.

So I quickly ducked down and started tunneling my way into the depths of the popcorn, trying to hide from the angry aliens. But their spaceship was equipped with lasers, ostensibly, and they could easily shoot through the delectable foaminess of the popcorn and kill me in no time.

Pew-pew! Pew! Pewpewpewpewpew! Pew! Pe-pew! I was under attack! No! And I couldn’t eat anymore effing popcorn because I was so full and dehydrated! What a horrible, horrible nightmare this dream had turned into. When I decided I had taken my last possible mouthful, I collapsed and feigned death, in the hopes that they would just leave. But, being aliens, they saw through my feeble plan and beamed me up regardless.

Once in their spaceship, they tied me up and I thought that was the end of me. They were definitely going to put me in a test tube or chop me up into bits or use me as a new source of fuel or something. Instead, they did worse: they lectured me. I absolutely HATE being lectured! Especially in alien jibberish. But there were subtitles (which I also hate), so I could understand the main jist of what they were saying which was that I had no right to vandalise their artwork just because I’m human and blah blah blah.

I couldn’t take it anymore. So I tried really hard to wake up. And sure enough, in the distance, I heard my alarm going off. This confused the aliens and made them lecture me even more. “Don’t think that just because your alarm is going off and you have to get up and get ready for school we’re going to let you get away that easily because you still have to pay for what you did and this this that and yadda yadda blahdiblah blah” (I stopped listening)… And then I woke up.

And the first thing I did was go downstairs to the kitchen, and down an entire bottle of water.

The unbearable shittiness of being.

February 8, 2009

I know that there are billions of sad little people in the world who are worse off than me. However, I’m at that stage of the year my life where I actually need to physically tell myself this. Aloud. To my reflection in the mirror. Let me explain:

I’m supposed to be enrolled in four classes this semester. When I was in the States, I was only able to enroll in two classes online, so when I came back, I had to manually enroll in the other two. This involves getting a piece of paper, filling it out, and getting it signed by some VIPs of my university, then going to the cashier and paying for my tuition, and presto! I will be enrolled. So I did all that, minus the whole paying thing, meaning I’m still not technically enrolled in those two classes. Midterms are coming up, and if I don’t get enrolled in the system, my marks won’t count. So no problem, all I have to do is pay and hand in that paper. But I can’t find it anywhere! I searched my house, I searched the car, I searched my friends’ cars, I searched all my bags, I searched everywhere! And it’s nowhere to be found. And the enrollment deadline has passed, so I can’t just redo the process. Which sucks. And makes me angry. WHERE IS THAT PAPER?!

Ma left yesterday to do an overseas consultancy for like a week. Don’t worry, that’s not the shitty part (just kidding Ma, *wink!* – (party at my house, people! woo!)). What makes my life literally a living hell anytime she travels is the fact that Feb becomes even more demonic than usual. Feb is one of our two cats. Tommy is nice and friendly and does normal cat-like things like eat and nap and purr. Feb, on the other hand, hates everyone, and her sole mission in life is to ruin the lives of others. Now, when my mom’s around, it’s bearable, because she actually likes my mom (kind of). But when Ma’s gone?! Fuuuuck. Yesterday, for example, I came home at night, locked the front gate and the main door, turned off all the lights, and went upstairs to get ready for bed. Halfway up the stairs, I come face-to-face with Dr. Evil, as her eyes glare at me in the dark. “Hey baby Feb, let’s go upstairs and do sleep-sleep!” I said very sweetly. She stares at me, takes a step down (closer to me), smells me for a split second, and then hisses like a devil-tiger and smacks me in the leg with her paw. “FINE!” I yelled at her and kicked her down the stairs a bit. She immediately recoils, and dashes past me up the dark stairs of doom, causing me to trip and nearly suffer fatal head injuries, and then darts into my room. “Uh, no. You’re not staying here. Get out. Go to Ma’s room and slit your wrists or something, but don’t crouch in the corner and stare at me as I sleep.” She ignored me, ostensibly, and paraded around my room, smelling all my stuff. So I left to brush my teeth and hang out with Ten for a bit. When I was ready to go to bed, I turned off the light and got nice and comfy. I set my alarm (on my new phone that actually works, yes!) and closed my eyes to prepare for the dream-realm. Suddenly my eyes pop open. I feel something walking around at the foot of my bed. Propping myself up on my elbows, and squinting in the dark, I can make out a cat-like creature. Oh, it’s just Tommy, I thought to myself. But then I remembered that Tommy was sleeping in Eri’s room that night, so my heart started racing as I realised what was actually happening – Feb was on my bed, probably rearing up for attack-mode. I tried to hide my fear and go to sleep, but she started kneading my blanket and making weird noises. So I turned on my side, hoping that if I just ignore her, she’ll let me live. Sadly this was not the case. She creeped up towards my face, smelling me and my bedsheets the entire time. When we were finally nose-to-nose, she licked my face (aww), and then hissed loudly, slapped me in the head, and bolted out of my room (boo). I hate her so much. And this is only the beginning.

For the past two days (this is day three), I’ve been having severe chest pain. And I can’t figure out what it is or what caused it. At first I thought that it was just heartburn. So I took some Tums, but that did nothing. I tried drinking milk, and again no relief. So I was like, whatever, it’s not heartburn. On day two, it intensified. And the pain is kinda constant, but it comes in waves of severity. To the point that I clutch my chest like a heartbroken woman who just lost her son in the war. And then it kinda goes away again. But it’s really strange. It feels as if I swallowed a tennis ball and it’s now stuck in my esophagus. Breathing hurts. Swallowing hurts. And I don’t know what to do about it. It’s a lot better today than yesterday, so hopefully I can just do what I usually do when I get weird symptoms, which is pretend that I never had them and hope they never return. We’ll see.

Eri had to drive me to school today. This is sort of a two-in-one problem. The first part of the problem is that I have a license and I can drive myself. However, insurance-wise, I’m not covered on my mom’s car until I get an Omani license. And getting an Omani license isn’t a simple snap of the fingers, because I’d need to start from scratch and do all the training and take a bajillion tests, none of which I have time for. Mind you, I’ve been driving illegally for like seven years, and never had an accident. But the ROP doesn’t seem to care. I have to do it like everyone else, unless I can find some serious wasta. Anyway, the second part of the problem of me not being allowed to drive my mom’s car is obviously the fact that Eri has to drive. Eri is Ma’s seventy-something-year-old mother, who has absolutely no sense of direction. And she freaks out quite easily. So we had to leave the house at 06:50, and take the easiest route possible, although it’s also the longest, and hang on for dear life anytime we approach a roundabout. Furthermore, there is little to no talking allowed once the vehicle is in motion, to enable Eri to concentrate to her fullest potential. Music is a definite no. So those forty-five minutes to Ten’s school are pretty hellish. To make matters worse, she doesn’t know how to get from Ten’s school to mine, so I had to show her the way. Twice. Which means, we left Ten’s school, drove to mine, made a U-turn, drove back to Ten’s school, made another U-Turn, and drove back to mine. And I had to draw her a map. Eri said she’d call me if she has any problems finding her way back (which is a simple five-minute route), and she hasn’t yet called me. So hopefully she’s on her way home and not actually in Jordan with no phone signal or something.

I just realised that I’ve been complaining for the past thousand words or so, and although I could continue for another five thousand, I’d rather not. I’ll just list a few more points:

  • Normal doses of caffeine no longer have an effect on me, so I’ve become a coffeeholic, even though I can’t really afford to be one.
  • I have four hours of accounting today and want to shoot myself in the face.
  • I don’t have time to go to the beach as often as I want to.
  • My favourite shirt seems to have gone missing.
  • I cooked a chicken soup for Omar yesterday because he’s sick, but now my hands smell like garlic, regardless of how much I wash them.
  • Ma took my Ten’s gold eyeliner with her, and I look ugly without it.
  • I despise malls with a creepishly strong passion, yet I must go to one today with Eri, of all people, to help her get a new phone because she feels the need to copy everything I do.
  • Did I mention I have four hours of accounting today?!
  • I have a craving for something, but I can’t figure out what it is, and it’s very nerve wracking. 
  • The same song has been stuck in my head for the past five days and it’s starting to nauseate me.

And that’s not all, but that’s all I feel like typing for now. So I think the time has come to order another coffee and go to the bathroom and talk to the registrar about my enrollment situation before class, which is in less than an hour. But I thought I’d give you a tiny little taste of the unbearable shittiness of my being so you can sympathise with me. Pity me! Just kidding, don’t. Or do. Your call. Either way, I’m still going to be in a grumpy mood the whole day.

Haha, a bird just flew into the window of Fiesta. I guess it’ll be a good day after all. 

: )

Technology is not my friend.

February 1, 2009

So my phone stopped working again. I really hate it when that happens. And it’s not like it just died and doesn’t work at all, rather, it’s possessed by some evil demon spirit. For example, I try to call one person, it calls someone else. I try to send a normal message like “What time do we have class?” and it transforms my words into “I’m going to eat your soul, muahaha!” I try to scroll down, it scrolls up. I try to put it on Silent mode, it puts it on Outdoor mode. 

So you’re probably thinking I should just use reverse psychology on it and do the opposite of what I actually want, but I tried that. It doesn’t work. It has a mind of its own, I swear! Last night at like three in the morning it just started vibrating. Thinking I was getting a call of grave importance, I actually bothered to leave my awesome dream and wake up to answer it. But when I looked at the screen, no one was calling. In fact, the screen was off and the keypad was locked. But it was still vibrating. For like an hour. 

I tried to go back to sleep but I just couldn’t. So finally, I hid it in the deepest, darkest part of my closet, underneath old, ugly clothes that I never wear anymore, and tried to go back to sleep. That plan worked… for a while.

At around five, my alarm started ringing. Why? I have no idea. First of all, I don’t set my alarm to anything before six. Secondly, I specifically didn’t turn it on that night and instead resorted to using a stock standard alarm clock (i.e. a clock whose only function is to tell time and ring when you tell it to. Remember those?). And lastly, my alarm at the moment is Paper Planes by M.I.A. and my phone was blasting Thriller by Michael Jackson, a song that I never even put onto my phone in the first place. 

So I wake up to a muted Thriller, coming from somewhere in my closet, which creeped me out even more. They’re out to get you, there’s demons closing in on every side… I was about to pee my pants. So I got up and rummaged through my closet to find my phone and switch it off. I found it, yeah. But it didn’t turn off. Red phone didn’t work, cancel didn’t work, stop didn’t work, snooze didn’t work, pressing and holding the power button didn’t work, nothing. So I opened up the back to take out the battery and finally! Silence. 

So I tried to go back to sleep again, but now I had the Thriller music video in my head, so it was kinda difficult. Because I could swear I heard zombies dancing in my room.

Anyway, I finally wake up to the sound of a normal alarm clock, take a shower, and go downstairs to feed Feb and Tommy. But then I remembered that the night before, Omar said he’d pick me up in the morning, so I kinda had to call him to make sure he was awake and stuff, because he has an eight thirty class. So I went back upstairs to get my phone, hoping that I wouldn’t have to exorcise it again. It turned on, made a weird hissing sound, turned off, turned itself back on again, flashed a few times, vibrated, and then looked normal. Hm. 

I took it downstairs with me and set it down in the kitchen while I went to the bathroom mirror to put on my makeup. Out of nowhere, the Nokia ringtone sounds, followed by a few beats of Paper Planes, and then the last few seconds of Thriller (which, if you know the song, is the creepy narrator guy’s evil laugh). I’m not even kidding. 

I go try to call Omar, and his phone rings but he doesn’t pick up. Then my phone switches off and on again, and the whole demonic saga continued so I just opened it and took out my sim card, looking for another body to put it in. I found Ten’s old phone, but it was like, seriously dead. I found another blue phone, but that one displayed some psychedelic images and alien noises when I tried turning it on. My grandma’s using the other spare, so I couldn’t take that one, and Ma needs her phone too, so I couldn’t take hers. Meaning the only option left was Ma’s old phone whose keys are missing and has a battery life of five minutes.

I took out the sim card, and put in mine, and then turned it on. It seemed to work perfectly, but then a whole bunch of Arabic flashed over the screen and I didn’t know what it meant, and then it went BLEEP! BLEEP! BLEEP! and turned off. Whatever, at least it’s not playing devil music. So I charged it (Omar sent a message saying he’s on his way), and went to finish getting ready.

Then I was done. And bored. So I decided I wanted to check my facebook. I click on ignore, it accepts. Would I like to attend the event? No. You are now attending the event. Like, what? WHY IS EVERYTHING OPPOSITE?! And what the hell did I ever do to my phone (besides throwing it) and my computer (besides yelling at it) that I deserve such torture?! Surrriously. Finally I gave up with facebook. Gmail also didn’t let me do what I wanted to do, nor did MyUOWD. So I just threw my computer and my phone charger in my bag and went outside to get in the car with Omar.

And now magically, everything seems to be working fine. The only thing is, my phone isn’t telling time, instead it’s counting down to something. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a mass assembly of robots right now, counting down along with my phone. It’s at 03:17:38 right now, so we’ll see what happens at 00:00:00. The end of the world? Probably.


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