I [HEART] Rex

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

I went to a Roaring 20s party last night. People should NOT have really good parties a day before school. I'm sick! My voice is gone from all the yelling, and my feet are killing me from all the dancing. I barely got through my classes today. It was worth it though. I looked hot, and I should have been born in that age.

---

This afternoon, I drove back to the Kaifan campus from Khaldeya. I opened the car door but didn't get out for a while because I was trying to think what books I needed while I was on the phone.

Amethyst: Sheno olad?! Khal a7mel awal!

Friend: Mu il7een! After marriage!

Amethyst: Ee, I know. What am I saving my virginity for?

*turns around to find a woman narrowing her eyes at her*

Friend: LOL!

Amethyst: Umm.. Fi mara ga3ed etkhezni!

Friend: LOL!

*walks away from the car really fast*

Amethyst: Laish chethi y9eer feni?! W laish gelt ena fi mara ga3ed etkhezni ashkara jedamha? Esma3atni! Allah yal fashla!;\

---

I don't find Johnny Depp hot. Khal y9eer elwath3 3adi ya nass!;\

---

I'm being random because I'm sick. I can't think. Really. I just watched Dancer in the Dark. I cried my eyes out. Enough, sa7? I should go rest;\

Aj & The Stage

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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I walk in wearing an oriental wrap dress and my favorite shoes. My hair is up in a comfortable easy updo. My bangs line my forehead. Eyeliner and gold eyeshadow accent my eyes. I smile at myself in the mirror, ignoring the migraine. I walk into the room filled with people. Familiar and unfamiliar faces look my way. I smile wider and begin formalities and pleasantries.

I nod at the right time, asking appropriate questions about the daughter that gave birth or the sister that got married. I listen to the details that don't really matter to me. I take my place next to my friend, whispering in her ear that I'm going to leave early. She turns to face me, and I remind her that I have another lunch to go to.

I cross my legs and straighten my back. I answer questions about myself, hoping that I won't be asked about anyone else. Soon, we are all sitting at the table eating lunch. I play with my food as they talk about men who have done women wrong and vice versa. I'm angered by such discussions. They don't know enough to discuss these personal issues. No matter how many details they gather, what goes on in the house between two people who are alone is another matter. Shouldn't they be experienced enough to know that?

I stay quiet, refusing to comment on any of the social talk/gossip that is being said. Two and a half hours later, I change my dress and leave. This time, I walk in wearing the same shoes but a different light summer dress. I smile as I apologize for not being able to come earlier. I hug, kiss, and playfully slap. I lay back on the sofa, kicking off my shoes.

I listen to their gossip without commenting while devouring a plate of brownies. Then, I shift the conversation to something else. Something that doesn't concern people I don't care about. Three hours later, I leave to my aunt's house.

I rush in breathless, hoping I have arrived before the awaited guests. Relief. I have. Just as I finish freshening up, the door bell rings. I make sure everything is set right and open the door. Another series of smiles and formalities.

I sit through the conversations, only present physically. I can no longer digest anything, whether physically or mentally. I stare at a spot on the wall and meditate to clear my head, realizing that the migraine is still there. When the guests leave, I leave.

As soon as I get home, I look at my bed. Tempted to throw myself upon it, I give it my back and reach for my textbook.

That is yesterday. Social Obligations Day. They love your company, you have to go. They come to all our social events, you have to go. They invite you by name, you have to go. They ask about you every time you're not there, you have to go. And so it is.. I go.

When I finally had two minutes for myself, I realized that I would rather deal with academic obligations than social ones. And that doesn't make me weird. At all.

One Butterfly Wing

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

Since I have classes from 8am-4pm, I don't see my family much. When I get home, I have school work to do. When I'm done with the school work, I pass out on whatever book I'm reading. So, I decided that I'd set one day a week to spend with each of my parents and both my brothers. This means I have to make sure that all my assignments are done so that I can really spend time with them.

It's not working. I am getting my work done, but they are either busy or spoilers. Examples? The day I decided to spend with Dad, he took Mom out. The day I decided to spend with my brothers, there was a football match on. The day I spent with my mom got her lecturing me on my lifestyle.

So, yeah.. Blekh;\

---

Randomly:

The Jenny Packham boutique doesn't have my aspired wedding dress. I went to try it on yesterday, but it wasn't there. Don't point out that I'm no where near getting married soon. I don't care.

My mood swings are getting a bit too extreme.

I want beige sandals with very high heels and another amethyst ring.

How can people not know Dr. Seuss?

I've been trying to find time to watch Dancer in the Dark, but it's going to have to wait a bit longer than I thought;\

I don't like it when people I know well think they should explain themselves to me.

My sleeping patterns are weird now that I'm sleeping.

A bunch of friends and I decided to take a break and head to the beach for three days. Our mothers decided to tag along, inhabiting the chalet next to ours. What a break..

I feel pretty today.

The Archer describes images of children swallowing razor blades to me on a daily basis. That's evil.

Big Bean

[UPDATE] Bottom of post;p

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

I really need to mark this as a landmark in my university life:

Adventures of Having Classes with Sou.

Prof: I really can't explain this (The Cooperative Principle in Discourse Analysis) to a five year old.
Sou: Yeah, unless he's a prodigy or something..
Prof: From India perhaps!
*Sou turns around and shares a look with Amethyst who gasps, then they both start laughing*



Prof is explaining something about pronounciation in Phonetics and says a word we don't know. Sou takes out her dictionary and points out "viagra."

Sou: Why do we have viagra in the dictionary?
Amethyst: Because there's people who might not know what it is!
*Laughter*
Sou: Men have something similar to PMS!
Me: WHAAAT?! Where?
*Sou points out IMS in her dictionary. Both share a look of pure evil then laugh.*



Amethyst has been trying to tell Sou an incident for ten minutes, wedging in a sentence every pause in the discussion. Near the end of the salfa:

Amethyst: So the text message says, "I wish I could just smell your panties."
*Sou turns around to face Amethyst and has the equivalent of a gasp on her face. They both crack up until they are out of breath continuously for the next ten minutes.*


Phonetics, again.

Amethyst: Sir, fronting a back vowel and vice versa? Huh? I don't get it.
Prof: Yes, for example: oo-ee-oo-ee-oo-ee-oo... *looking ridiculous*
Amethyst: Sounds like an ambulance!
*Sou turns around and gives Amethyst a you-did-not-just-say-that look and both crack up*


Prof (addressing Sou): I feel sorry for the man who's going to end up with you.
Sou: That was mean and hurtful, but I'm going to continue making my point. Whoo-sah. So, as I was saying..


Prof: Playwrighter's of that age blah blah blah..
*Amethyst thinking, "playwrightER?!" turns to Sou*
Sou: Shut up.
Amethyst: I didn't say anything!
Sou: But you were going to.
Amethyst: No, I wasn't!
Sou: Well, you thought it!


Walking out of class.

Amethyst: UGH! Mali khelg I do the response. Did you see how many pages we have to read?
Sou: Did you see the size of the text?! It's insanely small! Teez el-namla!


Regarding teez el-namla, in class:

Prof: ...being part of an ant colony...
*Amethyst shares a look with The Archer. Both crack up. Amethyst looks at Sou, "Psst, ANT colony?" Sou cracks up.*


Prof: You need to learn how to dress (hint goes to student wearing a t-shirt with a practically naked man on it) and talk (hint goes to Sou and Amethyst) appropriately in class.
Sou (talking to the student wearing the t-shirt with the muscled man wearing briefs and standing on a ball): Yeah, why are you wearing that?
Student: It's Marc Jacobs.
Sou: Right. It's Marc Jacobs. But it doesn't say Marc Jacobs, who would know?
Student: I would.

There are definitely more and more to come, but I'll stop here;p

.

[UPDATE]

.

Today, prof asks a question:

.

Student: Let's go and talk about it on coffee.

Amethyst *to Sou*: Yeah, so let's get sacks of coffee, sit on them, and talk.

Sou: No, we should get our actual mugs and sit on them!

Amethyst: Yeah, cuz they won't be up our @$$3#!

.

.

Regarding, teez el-namla (again), prof is talking about writing a poem about an ant:

.

Prof: It's an ant. I can't write about an ant!

Sou *looking through the textbook at the insanely small text*: I can write about ants.

Amethyst: No, you can write about certain parts of ants.

.

.

Regarding Indian child prodigy, different class:

.

Student: You know, on the news there was this 9 year old Indian boy who can perform surgeries...

*Amethyst and Sou share a knowing look and burst into laughter*

I.Need.Sleep.

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

Got this off Swair's blog. It looked like fun. Go ahead and tag yourself if you like it:)

Rules:

a. Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr Search.
b. Using only the first page, pick an image.
c. Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into fd’s mosaic maker.

What is your first name?
What is your favorite food?
What high school did you go to?
What is your favorite color?
Who is your celebrity crush?
Favorite drink?
Dream vacation?
Favorite dessert?
What you want to be when you grow up?
What do you love most in life?
One Word to describe you.
Your flickr name. (I don't have a flickr account, so I just put in Amethyst;p)

The answers are obvious, right?

Stronger Than Me

[UPDATE] I'M ON SAFAT! FINALLY! YAY!

.

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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The person who got most answers right in the quiz is The Archer. Ghalia tied with him, but she annoyed me by mentioning something in her comment, so she's out!;p

Here are the answers:

My favorite color is lime green.

FALSE. My favorite color is purple.

I change the answer to the question in my profile every once in a while.

TRUE.

I've been single since I've started this blog.

TRUE.

I eat popsicles in the winter.

TRUE.

I escape reality by listening to music.

FALSE. I escape reality by reading.

My favorite movie is The Devil's Advocate.

TRUE.

A is my favorite person in the whole wide world.

TRUE.

I've lied on Poshlust.

FALSE.

I brush my hair as much as I twirl its strands around my fingers.

FALSE. I don't brush my hair much, and I play with it a lot.

---

*Discussing Lolita with a friend of mine*

Amethyst: But Humbert is too much of a pervert.
A: He's not a pervert.
Amethyst: Yes, he is! What is he, then?
A: He's just a mentally sick man of passion.
Amethyst: Didn't you just define pervert?

---

Tips for Men

Facial hair is hot, but don't leave hair that tends to stick out your nose.

Hold the door open for the ladies. At least don't barge through if a lady is opening the door for herself.

Know how to change flat tires.

Be honest. Even with your feelings. If you like us, just say it. If you don't, again, just say it. Save us the trouble of wondering.

Make sure your soccer match isn't more important than your girlfriend. It really matters.

There are certain shades of pink that you cannot pull off. Look at yourself in the mirror when you're wearing pink. See if it suits your skin color.

If you're hot and know it, it's not hot. If you're not hot and think you're hot, it's so bleeping annoying. We want to rip your limbs off and beat you on the head with them. Yes.. THAT annoying.

Any additions?

Added by Silver:

"lose the american accent, sooo unattractive."

"Dont u EVER EVER EVER under ANY circumstances tell her she looks fat. EVER."

And by iRise:

"a man who can cook and help around the house, is a dream come true... :)"

Holistic

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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I'm quizzing you guys. Because I'm mean. Not really.. Because I have nothing better to do, I guess. Anyways, it's a series of true or false statements. Nine to be exact. Let's see how well you know me.

T or F?

My favorite color is lime green.


I change the answer to the question in my profile every once in a while.


I've been single since I've started this blog.


I eat popsicles in the winter.


I escape reality by listening to music.


My favorite movie is The Devil's Advocate.


A is my favorite person in the whole wide world.


I've lied on Poshlust.


I brush my hair as much as I twirl its strands around my fingers.

Any ideas what the person with the most correct answers should get? I'm thinking a post on Poshlust, or they get to ask me any question that will not reveal me in reality.

Easier Lifestyle

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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Almost all of my writing is from a female's perpective. From what I've posted on Poshlust, only this piece of writing is from a male perspective. So, as an attempt to challenge me, A has asked me to write a first person male narration.

I run the razor over my chin repeatedly. At the back of my head, there's music playing: "If I said I was sorry, would you forget the things I've done? I don't know why I even worry. I don't believe in anyone."*

I stare at the reflection in the mirror. A face haunted by its past. Yes, my face. My past. I think of sliding the razor across my neck... the wrong way. My stare pierces through my reflection, and I wonder why the mirror doesn't shatter. My thought is reflected in my eyes. Isn't a thought of suicide strong enough to shatter a mirror? Its abnormality is dense. Dense enough to squeeze some beats out of my heart. Yet, my reflection doesn't flinch. Not at all. Not even when a series of flashbacks occur before my eyes.

I see shadows moving in the mirror. I can't make them out clearly. I stare at them, scrutinizing. A lot of movement. I can't keep track. I can't make out the action. Too much movement. I can't comprehend anything. Suddenly, there's a splatter of blood. A grey pitter patter of drops of blood landing on the mirror rings in my ear.

I shudder. Cold washes over me. The flashbacks are suddenly clear. It takes blood to remember blood. As I glance down at the razor in my hand, I realize that I'm done with shaving. I splash water over my face, hoping to get rid of the images that will distract me for the rest of the day.

As I close the door of the bathroom, I realize that I'm neither inside nor outside. I'm trapped. I also realize that there really wasn't blood or the sound of the drops hitting the mirror. Then what is it that seemed so real? They can't just be flashbacks?

The reflection didn't flinch, but the man standing before that reflection did.

*Killing Man - Jack Savoretti

Aristotle's Poetics

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

About the last post, I don't believe in perfect worlds. Of course, perfection differs from person to person. I believe that everyone would be brainwashed. So, I don't know what I'd be if I had to come up with one.

---

Dear ******,

What makes you think you're welcome in my life? I mean, with all you've done, you should know that there is nothing that you say or do that will make me consider having you exist in my world. You've had more than the one or two chances that I usually give people. So, now, you need to stop trying to make things right.. because they won't be.

How can you build on something that's broken? Oh, and must I remind you that you broke it over and over again when you knew that it wasn't okay. I tried so hard to turn a blind eye on everything, but I learned that I shouldn't.. the hard way.

Leave my existence where it is, now. High in the heavens. I'm happy with or without you. You really won't make a difference. No need for dramatic facades that will only bring back the pain you put me through.

You hurt me, and I refuse giving you the chance to do that again. You're nothing to me. Nothing at all. Like all the abstract things you promised, turning into nothing once you silenced them.

You can't help but wonder what could've been if only you kept those promises. Sad, aren't you?

"It's Marc Jacobs."

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

[QUESTION] What would you be in your perfect world?

For example, if you had the chance to make the world perfect, what position would you put yourself in? The king/queen? The peasant? The law enforcer? What?

Teez El-namla

I'll never ever put myself in the state I'm in now. I danced all night. When I got home, I read thirteen pages of philosophy. Now, I am going to complete the assignment by writing a five hundred word response to what I read. I'm exhausted. I shouldn't have danced. I probably shouldn't have gone to that party. And I have class in less than seven hours.

---

Recent ANNOYING dialogues.

S: Are you half?
Amethyst: Half what?
S: Half Asian?
Amethyst: No.. *thinking that she does NOT look Asian*
S: Are you half Kuwaiti, then?
Amethyst: I'm Kuwaiti from both sides.
S: Oh, you don't look it.
Amethyst: *Fake smile*


Girl: Do you go to this college?
Amethyst: No, I study English.
Girl: Really?
Amethyst: Uuhh, yeah?
Girl: You seem smart, I thought you'd be in this college.
Amethyst: So smart people only study Science? *Walks away*


Amethyst: Hey, you!
A: Hey..
Amethyst: What's up?
A: Hey..
Amethyst: Are you okay?
A: Hey.. Yeah, I'm fine. *Pause* Aloo?
Amethyst: Yeah?
A: Hey.. When do you finish classes?
Amethyst: 4..
*Silence*
A: Aloo?!
Amethyst: What?!
A: Why are you so quiet? I can't think like this!


Amethyst: I'm in this fitting room!
7bbti: Ha?
Amethyst: The dark one is too big, and the light one is too small.
7bbti: Ba3ad jesmech madry shloun 9ayer..
Amethyst: Haw! Sheno ya3ni?!;\
7bbti: Ya3ni shloun ma enred baitna?
Amethyst: A9lan we're not going back home, goolay you3ana w khalas!
7bbti: You3ana!


Amethyst: Hi, Dad!
Dad: How do you want your name spelled?
Amethyst: With a "c" please and thank you!;D
Dad: The lady at the counter says it's weird.
Amethyst: Why does she care?
Dad: I don't want you spelling your name weird!
Amethyst: I do!

---

I'll go back to doing my assignment, now..

Hmph

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

Soul has honoured me with my very first testimonial:

Amethyst, the word rings a bell of a gem and the ring is true for this young lady. I am sure she would be in the league of the elite of the human society in coming years; The elite who actually matter.

I wish her good company, strength and balance.

~ Soul

I'm very flattered. Thank you:)

Who wants to be next?

---

While driving, I keep remebering random posts from my blog.

Remember this? It's down to four only. So, I guess I need to make a new list.


And the Until When? is now, FINALLY! Actually, it's been for a while, but I was too lazy to post the pic;p

Oh, and I craved toast while I was away, and they surprised me with this:

It's actually have the size of the table! And it's got four kinds of fillings.

Screw Khaldiya!

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

[WARNING] I'm pissed. I'm about to rant. And I don't care if you think I'm a snobbish chauvinist. Don't point more fingers at me or I'll snap them in two.

I am my parents' only daughter. My independence annoys them at times. But at the end of the day, they love it. I have been single since forever. I don't need a man to make me happy. I don't need a man to make me feel beautiful. I don't need a man to complete my life. I am open to having a man around, but I don't NEED it. It's an option, not an obligation. And until the right man comes at the right time, I will NOT risk my happiness for the sake of an emotional adventure.

My friend disagrees with that. She seems to think that she does need a man to rid her of "loneliness." She doesn't think that she will be able to meet the right guy. AND THAT PISSES ME OFF!

Recently, I've had many talks regarding this issue. I'm very open about my life. I'm open to the extent that I don't have any secrets that only I know about myself. Why? Because I believe that I'm not doing anything wrong when I do something. And so, I'm never ashamed of anything I do. I've lost people (no, they weren't really friends) because I'm so open. I don't care. This is me. A whole person with nothing to keep to herself. And so.. I will speak my mind.

Now, here's the thing.. I love my friends. I really do. I usually do my best to make my friends happy until they cross the line. So, what is wrong with you?! You know who you are! I know you do. Both of you! Why is it not okay to be single? Why not learn to love yourself as you are and push that "loneliness" aside? What is up with you guys? I'd rather have a man by my side than not, but why is it such an issue if that doesn't happen?

Now, here it is plain and simple. Friend1, you need to understand that no one will love you enough if you don't love yourself enough to realize that you'll be okay without them. Friend2, you need to learn to push the obstacles you set for yourself aside and leap at the chances life presents you with. Like I said, if it works, then I'll be happy seeing you happy, and if it doesn't, you have us to nurse you back to sanity.

Think about it, you two. Refa3taw thagh6i. I'm just so disappointed in you. You don't understand how hard it is for me to sit through one of these talks. I want you to be happy. Why can't you just want that for yourselves?

Blekh.

I love you. Really, I do. Now, step it up and take control over yourselves and your lives la kaf 3ala wayehkum!;*

.

P.S. I wrote this yesterday. Friend1 has taken my advice into consideration. As for Friend2..

Eljaw Khayes

Have you notice how your clothes, make up (for girls), music, choice of movies, and other stuff changes when you're happy/sad? Is it just me, or is it everyone else, too?

Moving on to F.'s tag:

I will always wear:

White!;D

I will never wear:

A one piece bathing suit.

My bad-clothes-day advice:

Have an emergency outfit ready!

I know I look great when:

I'm happy..

Smart travel tip:

Don't carry too much:)

To me summer means:

More time to read and write..

.

.

I tag: Balqees, Purely Orchid, and N.!

---

On a different note, Soul has left a comment on my 102 Things About Amethyst post about starting a post inviting people to write testimonials. Although I've entertained that idea for a while now, I needed that push. Thank you, Soul.

I'll get fellow bloggers and friends to write testimonials which I'll post when they submit them. If you're interested, mention it by commenting on THIS post. Soul, you go first. I ask you kindly to write me a testimonial of myself:)

No More Karaoke

I'm back! I had a GREAT time. I need to stop being so wild. It's getting out of hand. But I've fallen in love with my life and myself all over again. This kicks therapy real hard in the behind!

---

She walked around in her purple bathing suit. She stood at the balcony, crossing her arms so that her butterfly tattoo spread its wings alluringly over her shoulder blades. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, opening them again only to have her breath taken away repeatedly by the sight of the sea.

She couldn't resist the urge to go down there, the wind blowing her bangs around making her look silly. She enjoyed the feel of the sand under the soles of her feet, and a strange warmth climbed its way up all the way to her fingertips. Time for some contrast in feeling.

She put her feet into the cold water. There. She grinned. She sat down, surrounding herself with the feel of the waves against her body. A feeling of content washed over her as the waves washed away her worries.

She's leading a strange life in a strange world. That was nonsensical to her, once upon a time. Not anymore. She grabbed a handful of sand and watched the grains slip away. Contradictions are alright as well, she thought. They make life more exciting? Nah, they just confuse her. No more contradictions, then. It will have to be as simple as that.

She should head back. It's dawn and she left everything behind. No one could reach her if they wanted to. She walked back happy that her time alone with herself didn't bring back anything sad or painful. Happy that all has eroded under the waves of the sea. Funny how physical things reflected her internal feelings. Wait, not funny. Just strange, like the life she was walking back to.

She walked back. Only one person noticed that she had left, and he was waiting at the door, reading. She smiled and waved at him, and he waved back. She made her way uphill to the chalet, and sat right next to him. He didn't ask. He didn't need to.

She took her notebook out of his hands and read to him. Silence but her voice and the sound of the sea. The wind quieted down as to not distract her listener.

"He was sitting on the steps by the door, waiting. She waved at him, and he waved back. She knew if anyone would notice her absence, it would be him. And she knew she didn't have to explain. All she needed was to go back knowing that it didn't matter if anyone else noticed as long as he did. He meant the world to her, and she couldn't express the gratitude that swelled in her heart whenever she laid her eyes on him. He made her who she is now. And she loves herself enough to celebrate it."

He smiled at her, tears welling up in his eyes. They stood up. She gave him a hug and pushed him towards the door, playfully. They each headed to their separate rooms, knowing that they were really heading the same way.

Public Administration

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

I'm very dedicated to this blog. (Ha, that kind of translates into I'm very dedicated to myself!) Poshlust. Poshlust. Poshlust. I can never stop loving the sound of it! I just can't!

However, I will be taking a break (from my whole life, that is) for three days starting tomorrow. I'm going to take someone special's advice and celebrate myself!

Anxiety Pills - Pills

Have you ever felt that you've been born into the wrong family because of how different you are? But then again, our family is pretty much randomly put together. If you picked strangers off the street and put them in a house, they'd have more things in common than my family does. I mean, not that I don't like it. I do most of the time, but it gets annoying not most of the time.

I don't watch TV, but the rest of the house does. So, when we're all sitting in the living room, they all have their eyes glued to the screen while I sit their lacking company. I end up leaving, and later on I get told that I don't spend enough time with them. Great. Let's give that a shot:

Amethyst: You know, my friend linked me to this website of this British graffiti artist...

Bro: So?

Amethyst: He's so cool! You want to see some of his work?

Bro: No, not really..

Amethyst: I'm reading this book about language use and censorship. There's this idea presented where-

Bro: Why do I care again?

Amethyst: Right.

Bro: You wanna watch a movie?

Amethyst *rolls eyes*: Sure!

Dad: What are you doing?

Amethyst: Chatting and looking at artwork. Ta3al, I wanna show you something!

Dad: Okay..

Amethyst: Look, here.. Do you get the message? There should be more nature in the urban areas..

Dad: Oh, hmm..

Amethyst: And look here.. Look familiar?

Dad: No, not really..;\

Amethyst: What?! Dad! We saw this when we went to Sweden remember?

Dad: We saw THAT?! Where?!

Okay, at least they try, right? I mean, they asked for me to spend time with them, and when I do, I'd rather listen than talk because I don't want to bore them. But you know what really gets to me? Meals..

7bbti: Why aren't you eating?

Amethyst: I ate this morning.. I'll have salad or something..

7bbti: You ate this morning at 8. It's 1, now. You should be hungry. All you had was toast, anyway.

Amethyst: Okay, umm.. Salad?

...

Bro2: They all piss me off! This school has way too many rules!

Amethyst: I told you to leave earlier on. It's too late, now. Exact same uniform, good grades, polished shoes, same smiles, all is polite.. Sounds like you're robots!

Bro2 *stares blankly*

Amethyst: And what's with the rule that says if you get restless it's "inappropriate behavior".. In what world?

Bro1: I went through that. It was pretty harsh.

Amethyst: Reminds me of 1984 and The Giver;\

Bro1 + Bro2: Yeah, we know exactly what you're talking about.. What?.. Because we so read those!

...

Amethyst cracks a joke. They all stare at her while her spoon is suspended in mid-air.

7bbti: Sheno ya3ni?

Dad: Ma fahamt, 3eeday..

Bro1: Haha?

Bro2: Maleqni..

...

Amethyst: My blog got over 20,000 hits!

7bbti: M hmm..

Dad: That's nice!

Bro1: So?

Bro2: I don't like your blog..

...

Amethyst: Can I have the mayonnaise?

Bro2: Why do you eat mayonnaise with everything?

7bbti: Tara ymaten!

Amethyst: Can I have the mayonnaise?

Bro2: You're gross!

7bbti: It's extras you don't need.

Amethyst: Can I have the mayonnaise?

Bro2: Why do you eat it with everything?

7bbti: You eat too much mayonnaise!

Amethyst gets up to get the mayonnaise herself.

Meals are the death of me in this house. Oh, and whether I eat just salad or a couple of plates of food, I still haven't eaten according to my mother. It's a thing with my aunts, as well.

Let's hope I leave the house some time soon so that they get rid of me. Oh, and let's hope I leave the house to a place where people will share my interests. And let's hope I don't lose it one day. It seems very likely at the moment.

B+

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

---

THERE WAS ONCE*

Margaret Atwood

"There was once a poor girl, as beautiful as she was good, who lived with her wicked stepmother in a house in the forest."
"Forest? Forest is passé, I mean, I've had it with all this wilderness stuff. It's not a right image of our society, today. Let's have some urban for a change."
"There was once a poor girl, as beautiful as she was good, who lived with her wicked stepmother in a house in the suburbs."
"That's better. But I have to seriously query this word poor."
"But she was poor!"
"Poor is relative. She lived in a house, didn't she?"
"Yes."
"Then socio-economically speaking, she was not poor."
"But none of the money was hers! The whole point of the story is that the wicked stepmother makes her wear old clothes and sleep in the fireplace-"
"Aha! They had a fireplace! With poor, let me tell you, there's no fireplace. Come down to the park, come to the subway stations after dark, come down to where they sleep in cardboard boxes, and I'll show you poor!"
"There was once a middle-class girl, as beautiful as she was good-"
"Stop right there. I think we can cut the beautiful, don't you? Women these days have to deal with too many intimidating physical role models as it is, what with those bimbos in the ads. Can't you make her, well, more average?"
"There was once a girl who was a little overweight and whose front teeth stuck out, who-"
"I don't think it's nice to make fun of people's appearances. Plus, you're encouraging anorexia."
"I wasn't making fun! I was just describing-"
"Skip the description. Description oppresses. But you can say what colour she was."
"What colour?"
"You know. Black, white, red, brown, yellow. Those are the choices. And I'm telling you right now, I've had enough of white. Dominant culture this, dominant culture that-"
"I don't know what colour."
"Well, it would probably be your colour, wouldn't it?"
"But this isn't about me! It's about this girl-"
"Everything is about you."
"Sounds to me like you don't want to hear this story at all."
"Oh well, go on. You could make her ethnic. That might help."
"There was once a girl of indeterminate descent, as average-looking as she was good, who lived with her wicked-"
"Another thing. Good and wicked. Don't you think you should transcend those puritanical judgmental moralistic epithets? I mean, so much of that is conditioning, isn't it?"
"There was once a girl, as average-looking as she was well-adjusted, who lived with her stepmother, who was not a very open and loving person because she herself had been abused in childhood."
"Better. But I am so tired of negative female images! And stepmothers-they always get it in the neck! Change it to stepfather, why don't you? That would make more sense anyway, considering the bad behaviour you're about to describe. And throw in some whips and chains. We all know what those twisted, repressed, middle-aged men are like-"
"Hey, just a minute! I'm a middle-aged-"
"Stuff it, Mister Nosy Parker. Nobody asked you to stick in your oar, or whatever you want to call that thing. This is between the two of us. Go on."
"There was once a girl-"
"How old was she?"
"I don't know. She was young."
"This ends with a marriage, right?"
"Well, not to blow the plot, but-yes."
"Then you can scratch the condescending paternalistic terminology. It's woman, pal. Woman."
"There was once-"
"What's this was, once? Enough of the dead past. Tell me about now."
"There-"
"So?"
"So, what?"
"So, why not here?"

*Thanks, Z!

What Happens in Vegas

I do NOT consider myself a responsible adult.. yet. Maybe some other day.. week.. month.. year? Anyways, so being my very sudden, crazy, spur-of-the-moment self, I gave myself the pleasure of a new experience today.

So, snippets of the yam3a:


A: She is just UGLY!
J: Yeah, she is!
A: She's just SO Black! You know, like there's mid-Black which is fine.. I'm not racist, I'm just saying.. Like there's Destiny's Child-
J: Kelly Rowland is SO Black!
A: Yeah, but there's good SO Black, and bad SO Black!


A: Why are you looking at me like that?
H: You're freaking me out!
A: I'm freaking you out because I'm happy?!
H: Yeah! I'm just not used to you like this!
A: WTF?! I was like this before I got depressed!
H: I like this happy you, but it freaks me out!


J walks over to the DVD player and pauses for two seconds: "Uuumm, so what do I have to do, now?"
A: "DUH! Put the DVD in the player!"


A: No, he is trustworthy.. He's just a bit... He's kinda like... I mean, he's such a.. You know how..
H turns to S: She's not saying full sentences!


A makes a face.
H laughs real hard.
A laughs hysterically.
J is kinda lost.


A makes the same face to J.
J laughs hysterically and hugs A.


A: You know, I'm happy because nothing matters anymore. There's no bad stuff going on in my life. I'm just happy!
J: Yeah, it's called "The F***IT!"
A: Really?
J: Yeah!
A: I'm so blogging that! (And here I am;p)


J and A are struggling to read "How much wood can a wood chuck chuck...."
H is staring amusingly.
A: HEY! There's a typo, this should be IF not IS! Oh, and another typo, it's missing the k! *laughs hysterically*


A: You are missing out on half of your life!
H: Chub ya 7mara!


H is talking at the door. J is being nudged by A. H is still talking at the door. A is still nudging J.
J: What?!
A: The movie!
H: Sh3endekum?
J points at A: She wants to watch the movie!
H: Ee ba3ad elbesat elnathara!


I'm sure there were more incidents, but I just can't remember them!;p

She Said He Said

These thoughts are inspired by Justin Nozuka's "Mr. Therapy Man" video.

Have you ever wondered what's behind a clown's mask? The hyperbolic red and white smile isn't that real. I mean I always think about what people are hiding behind all their smiles and careless laughter, but now, I'm dead curious. I really wanted to know.

I even remember being told about this guy whom I am only barely acquainted with who wrote a play entitled Clowns. He had the clowns holding a balloon amidst a circus one second, and the next, the clowns are in a cemetery. Twisted genius?

With friends, I usually ask, "What are you thinking?" and "How are you feeling?" at random moments. Never with strangers, though. So, I know I'm taking this a bit too far, but I will ask the next time I bump into a clown. Hmm?

---

So, since I've been trying to use my mind and heart to bring back my happy self, here's a list of things that make me happy:

People who matter telling me I'm beautiful [Flattery]

Dad's I'm-proud-of-you look [Content]

Getting along with my mom after fallouts [Bliss]

Grades I feel I've earned [Achievement]

Good music, good art, and good books/literature [Heaven]

J's issue [Sheer Happiness]

Being comfortable in my own skin [Comfort]

A doing what is expected [Relief]

Surrouding myself with people I want to be with [Joy]

Not being afraid to cry and laugh at the same time [Hysteria]

Laughing uncontrollably for no reason [Myself]

What sins?

I read this earlier this week, and I remembered my own graduation. I remembered myself on stage, giving my speech. Glancing at my weeping mother. Hugging her right after the ceremony was over and telling her I was going out with my friends to celebrate. And then, I read the article again, and I realized something. I didn't build my life away from her. She knew everything. Not almost everything.. just everything. I wondered if she felt the feelings the writer described in that article. And I wondered if maybe things would be different between us now had I lead a life she had no idea about. I don't know.

---

Happy Birthday, Kay Knight!

---

My friend, R, linked me to Banksy's artwork, and I'm in love. Here are some of my favorites:

And of course I have to mention that he turned one of my favorite Van Gogh paintings...

into this:

No Breakdowns

.

I'm sitting at the table across from him. A sincere smile playfully testing my lips. I might not be ecstatic. Far from it. But I feel somewhat satisfied.

He's talking about a book. How it changed him. He's talking about how we allow mere written words to transform us. I think that's what we both have in common. We let books work their magic on us to the fullest extent. Everything and anything. Then, we find pleasure in the aftermath of the ideologies tested by the book. We find leisure in picking what we like and storing it in our minds forever. Bringing it up at every discussion.

He has just sucked out all the anger. All the negative vibes. I dissect a California Roll. Playing with food is an expertise, now. I can't seem to get myself to eat when experiencing unfamiliar feelings. I tell him to be quiet. A moment of silence to set things straight in my mind. Just a moment. I close my eyes.

I open them. Yes, so he was saying? He takes out a few papers. He knows I just cleared my head. I slip it out of his fingers. He winks. I smile at him, "What is it?" He tells me to read. "Don't tell me what to do," I tease.

I read. Tears stroll slowly down my cheeks. It's all true. How very observant. He expresses everything on my behalf in those papers. Yes, this is exactly how I feel. How does he know it? I haven't told him what I've been through these last few months. An emotional revolution. Something unpredictable.

I put the paper in my bag. I deny crying and order tea. I eat. He smiles. "What?" He shrugs. I start telling him about Cinncinatus C. That man. I smirk. That Nabokov. I wonder. That ending. I blink. He sits there observing it. All of it. Is he saving it for the next letter?

"Life isn't fair. We all get a share of good and bad, honey. It's not the end of the world. I have no idea what you've been through. I know it's intense because I've never seen you like this. I know I can't help. Just relax. It's over, isn't it? You've dealt with it thoroughly. I can tell. Push everything aside and know yourself. Celebrate who you are. Enjoy it. Enjoy your life. It'll be back on track in no time. You'll be way better off than the old you."

He reaches out for my hands. He didn't have to say that. I'm already beginning to feel happy. Disappointments aren't so significant anymore. Just a daily pinch of salt. No worries. Fried ice cream?

We walk out. A comfortable silence ensues. Music. All smiles. Both content. One of us partially content, the other fully. And an aftermath that's got nothing to do with books..