Happy Holidays!

Hope your holiday season is filled with humor, health and happiness!


Me? I'll be running around doing last minute errands for my cousin's wedding (Part Two) in a few days. Merry stinkin' Christmas!

So, are you back yet?

I went to a party last night. Probably not the best idea I've ever had, seeing as how a) I'm still recovering from this pesky cold, and b) parties in Cairo usually blow. True to form, it was crowded, smokey, and the music was questionable at best. One friend said it felt like a Sadie Hawkin's dance - complete with ribbons tied around the poles strategically placed around the venue (and the girl dancing up on one of them, but that's neither here nor there). At one point, the DJ played Michael Jackson's Human Nature. Where does one go after hearing that song AT A PARTY?! where other people are there? and it's not in one's bedroom?

Now, at every party I've been to since moving back to Cairo from London three years ago, I've seen the same people and had the same conversations over and over again. When I started wearing glasses the year I was away, I came back and people all of a sudden failed to recognize me. I'm telling you, it was some crazy Clark Kent activity. I'd lift my glasses up, and people would be like, "O! YOU! I DIDN'T RECOGNIZE YOU!" Really? Because it's not like I was wearing these...

For the past two years or so now, the comments are less 'o-you-look-so-different-now' and more 'so-are-you-based-here-now?' I kid you not, I was asked this no less than eight times last night. And all I could think about was, you saw me a few months ago, and I said yes. And a few months before that, my answer was also 'affirmative.' And the few months before that? You guessed it! Yes.

So, Internet, my question is: Have I really been living under a rock or is everyone an idiot? Because this brown skin isn't a result of dirt build-up. I've seen the sun.

DC - Day 2

The main reason behind my trip stateside was my cousin's (whadduuup) wedding. The day was all fun and games until four women had to pile into a bathroom to do their hair and makeup. Let's all take a minute to say thanks for the fact that that ended with no serious injuries or death. Of course my travel buddy got involved in the action. I'll let him tell the rest of this story...

So, here I am helping the bride with her makeup. This tennis elbow I seem to have developed from holding my arm like this wasn't helping much, but I tried my best.

Here I am with the dinner menu at the wedding, as well as the baby tabasco sauce that was served with our oysters and the most delicious pumpkin drink ever.


After the dinner reception, we made our way over to the W Hotel (in a limo - what whaaaat!), where we had the nicest service imaginable.

Limo shot:
Hospitality at its finest:

Unfortunately, the night came to an end when the groom passed out. At least he was kind enough to keep me warm in his lapel.

More shenanigans to follow.

Hello World!

Internet! Hello! I've missed you and all you have to offer. (That's not really true, have you guys used Hulu in the States - ON DEMAND HIGH DEF TV AT YOUR FINGERTIPS!) But I have missed sharing stories with you here. Where have I been, you ask (or you should ask, if you haven't already)? My cousin (whadduuuup) got married two weeks ago, and I went to Washington, DC for her special day. I gallivanted around DC and New York for a couple weeks, having an awesome time not thinking about Cairo or work. Here's the first installment of photos from my trip, with a little help from my travel buddy, Coqui.

My first full day in DC was on Thanksgiving. Here were are eating our weight in pumpkin and pecan pies.

My boy cousin decided pie wasn't quite complete without some whipped cream, so here we are with his little addition.

Filled to the brim with Thanksgiving deliciousness, we all piled into the car and went to the movies. Taking this photo was almost as obnoxious as the Gulfie kids that shine laser pens at the screen.


It was pretty cold in the movie theater, and since I forgot to bring a jacket for us to share, Coqui slipped into my cousin's shirt for a little warmth. Pervert.


On our way home, we found this donor-cycle that Coqui wanted to ride on. I don't condone motorcycles in any way, shape or form, and Coqui was scolded as soon as we were out of public earshot.

Check back tomorrow, where you'll meet some of our friends, see the sushi that was THE BUSINESS, and get a glimpse at all the wedding festivities!

Top Five

Reasons why I can't bring myself to do the task I'm supposed to be working on:

1. It's boring
2. I had foul for lunch, and my brain cells are still trying to process why
3. The comments on the New York Magazine Gossip Girl recap (don't judge me) are hilarious and I can't stop reading them
4. I'm trying to preempt my boss' eventual questions related to why I haven't finished my work
5. I'm trying to think of ways to dumb down this task so that the intern can do it

The way I see it, I have three options:

1. Do the work
2. Don't do the work
3. Take a nap under my desk

Right now, I'm thinking of doing myself a solid by combining 2 and 3, and calling it a day. Do you have any other ideas?

Mr. Brendanawicz

I've been in bed since Tuesday. No, seriously, Tuesday. November 3rd, 2009. It's now November 8th (of the same year). You'd think cabin fever would have kicked in and I'd be smashing things on the ground, drawing on the walls, tearing my hair out...but not really. And you know why? Because we've had a visitor. Mr. Brendanawicz.


Now, why would I invite a rubber chicken into my home, you ask? Because this rubber chicken's wings are fused together! Usually my COMPLETELY RATIONAL fear of feathered beings would have consumed me, but Mr. Brendanawicz has been pretty great about keeping his clucking under control, his beak to himself, and his arms at his side. He's also taken full liberties within the house, getting into all of my stuff.

Here he is trying to be cute, hiding in my medicine.


He's just a tiny little chickadee though, and all the fun and games gave him a sore throat. I told him to take a Vitamin C effervescent.


I also made him some hot lemon juice. You know, for his vocal chords.


Mr. Brendanawicz heard about Little One's blueberry pancakes, and decided to hang out in the freezer until she agreed to make him some.


After dinner, we brushed our teeth and watched some tv.




Mr. Brendanawicz was pretty tired by this point, and was about to get in bed, but decided to have one last round of play time with Coco.


Now...what was that I said about cabin fever?

Happy Birthday, Little One

Little One, you're 19 today! I remember the day you were born, when Dad sleepily and begrudgingly took me to the Baker Caper Halloween party (probably because I was whining about NEEDING candy corn), every birthday you've had ever since, and all the funny faces you've made along the way. While you surprise me, every day, with your maturity (and wit, of course), some things have remained the same since you were a wee lass. Let's have a look, shall we?

Your personal hygiene has always been important, and because we share a room, I can't thank you enough for that.


Sometimes you cry, but always for good reason.


You've always been industrious. I'm sure these motor skills would have come in handy had you not shunned a career in plastic surgery (because really, where's an Economics degree going to get you?).


You still make this face when the idea of pancakes for dinner comes up.


You were smiling with your eyes long before Tyra told you to.


You've retained control of your bladder.


You don't judge me when I wear questionable outfits.


Love you, Little One. Hope this 19th year is everything you could ever wish for. And more.

If you want to get something done, you have to do it yourself

You know, Internet, when I come home from a long, hard day at work, all I want is to plop down in front of the television with a nice, warm meal. That's not too much to ask, is it? After my day of networking and shmoozing with the likes of AlBERT Gore, I came home to work on an assignment I hadn't been able to look at during the day and asked Little One what she was going to have for dinner. "Pancakes," she replied. Ahh, brinner. The awesomeness of breakfast, for dinner! I informed her I wanted in on that action after I finished my work, and she politely, as usual, obliged.

After waiting for HRH to finish whatever she was watching, I accompanied her to the kitchen to supervise her pancake making. "Don't screw it up," I jokingly told her as she warmed the skillet. Apparently, Little One thought yesterday was Opposite Day, and did EXACTLY WHAT I TOLD HER NOT TO.

Behold:



Have you ever seen a more disgusting looking pancake? I sure as hell haven't.

Then she made this face, which I believe meant she was sorry.



Here was the final product, a "yin yang" she called it, after she shoved the two broken pieces together.



And finally, with some powdered sugar, to soothe the flames now coming out of my ears.

Confirmed

I finally got my mystery ailment diagnosed out last night. I have "remnants of salmonella typhoid." Sounds delicious, no? My symptoms started nearly two years ago in Sudan, when I woke up to find my previously digested dinner on the floor. Since that fateful night, I've taken antibiotics roughly four or five times (I get violently ill roughly every six months or so), but some bacteria appears to have taken up permanent residence in my body and continues to float around like it owns the place. My doctor prescribed another short course of antibiotics to kill the remaining suckers, so here's hoping I'll be puke free from October 2009! Pray with me, Internet.

In defense of home schooling

I met up with a great friend who I hadn't seen in three years last night, and after some catching up, I went over to her house to visit with her parents. Her parents have been in Egypt for quite some time, and are moving back to America next week. After listening to endless stories about my friend's nieces, her mom, Vovo, told me this story, about her other daughter (V) and granddaughter (A), age 5.

A: Mommy, what's a lesbian?

V: Umm...it's when two people really love each other, and they're both girls.

A: Do they kiss?

V: Umm...yes, they kiss.

A: O, so me and Vovo are lesbians!

And that, Internet, is why my children will live in a bubble.

Cravings

I need food. Like, immediately. Even faster than immediately, if possible. And if it's not possible, MAKE IT POSSIBLE. Examples of things I'd like to eat/imbibe include:

• ten thousand Oreo cookies
  
• a Dr. Pepper
• pickles
• a peanut butter and Nutella sandwich
• grapes
• iced tea
• all of the above, at the same time (like a milkshake)

So, maybe I'm pregnant. OR this fasting is really taking its toll. Either way, my insides are ninja'ing their way through my stomach and I don't know if I can make it till.........

(I didn't make it)

Asking for it

My mother found out about this blog soon after I started it, and immediately my gut clenched, my palms got sweaty, and I thought, "O poor readers, imagine all the fun stories I COULD have told you." And then I realized that tapeworms lead more interesting lives than I do, and nothing I could ever write here would require password protection.

Yesterday, however, my mom informed me that she stopped visiting this site after she saw this post, presumably because happier words could never be typed again, except for maybe, "Hey Mom, I'm getting married! To a man!" So, let the games begin! If you see me walking around with a limp, black eye, or missing a patch of hair, you'll know I was doing some investigative journalism to keep you satiated. You can thank me later. Or now. With cookies.

Question

Do we need to talk about how awesome my new socks are?

Today: Size 2. Tomorrow: Size Beached Whale.

Me: How many calories are in this can of Pringles?

Little One: 900.

Me: Whoa, that's a lot.

Little One: Were you planning on eating the whole thing?

Me: Yeah. And the rest of yours.

Little One: That's disgusting.

Me: And...?

Things I did over the past three days instead of working on the thing I needed to work on

• Throw up. Twice
• Nap, watch TV, repeat.
• Stick my footses in Little One's pocket and shout, "Check your pocket!"
• Yell at the new guard for ringing the intercom three times while I was napping
• Yell at the driver for ringing the intercom, thinking he was the guard
• Curse the freezer for not spilling over with chocolate ice cream

It really is a wonder I manage to put my socks on and make it out the door every morning. And that Little One hasn't smothered me in my sleep.

Like chopsticks in the ears, but worse

Internet, my ears will never be the same again.

More Positive Than Your Average Bear and I have accounts on last.fm, and today I thought it would be a good idea to listen to the tracks he's 'favorite-d.' BIG MISTAKE. I don't know what just happened, but my ears were assaulted like never before (well, there was that one time I had to sit through Hakim's assuredly drug-induced performance at my cousin's wedding, but that's neither here nor there). One of the songs was a TECHNO REMIX OF A BRITNEY SPEARS SONG. God, give me strength.

Help me recover, Internet. If you could recommend one (or more!) song(s) right this minute, what would it (they) be? I need help, world. Help me. Help me. Help me.

I miss you, life

Well, hello, Internet. Fancy meeting you here. Right?! Because WHERE THE HECK HAS MY TIME GONE? It feels like I've been jumping from one catastrophe to the next, and I'm like, "There are three episodes of The Office queued up on my laptop, does it look like I have time for this?" But I digress.

Since Friday, I've been in a workshop that has left me with no time to do anything except listen to mind numbing filibusters (GRE word!) and get to know my car in the Biblical sense. I've also been going home past 10 pm every night. If you were standing next to me today, you may or may not have heard me hiss at the sun when I managed to leave before dusk.

The highlight of the this workshop has been chilling with the Grand Mufti (who is AWESOME), but there have been a few lows. These include having to hear the following:

• bibeline
• tob down
• vincinity (vicinity)
  
• bassion
  
• excepression
• unprofessionality
• verbing and wording
• backaging
• smoked salamon
• Where am I?

I'm not even kidding you about the last point. Someone ACTUALLY said that today, after sitting in the conference hall for five days. If I hadn't eaten my weight in baby croissants, I just might have walked out. After putting a few baby croissants in my pocket for the drive home, of course.

Ugh, If I Must

Happy first birthday, stinking blog.

Text messages you wish you had

So, I missed my blog's birthday. I'm sad about this, but not THAT sad. I mean, if this blog was my baby, and I forgot to throw a celebration for its first birthday, I'd be a horrible mother, right? But this is the internet, and I don't know how much I care about you guys, so who cares, right? However, cupcakes would have been nice.

Anyway, I need to get back into the regular swing of things over here at thingsonmymindgrapes, and the last time I did this it was a big hit, so here you go. Text messages that currently exist on my phone, part deux:

Please! Take me now.

I was putting make up on and my dad was like do you need help he is all over me

Such flagrant nose picking!

i had some rice with a couple girls last night. long grain.

Damn you crustacean. Your nastiness and craziness amazes me.

do i smell generalization!

One of the EIGHT movers is kind of cute, in a pseudo-vagrant kind of way. I figure that’s still a good statistic for egypt.

Some girl just asked to borrow my notes from last class and I was like “you can HAVE this doodle of a sheep but I don’t know how useful it will be.”

It’ll find a way into the oxford dictionary. I did some favours (notice the u!) for some editors there a few years back but I don’t wanna talk about it.

You whine like a chimp in heat. It’s pathetic.

Just had a flash back of trying to do the splits and falling on my face last night. How old am i?

Just saw hottest guy I’ve seen in real life for some time now. The secretaries actually swooned. Will investigate for you.

Got the job. Will be weird not seeing you in 12 hour intervals.

Econ professor just said regularize 4 times. Then she wrote it on the board.

I’m never going to find a husband.

The leopard vest returns!

At the islamophobia conf @ auc. Btw, terrorism began with the mafia in italy. So, if we want to pt a finger, lets start there.

You is!

Who owns two leopard vests?!

Have a safe flight mon friar

We xam dooo whatever u liiiike haha

O say can you Little One

Little One and I are seven years apart. Growing up, this meant that I couldn't do anything fun because a) she'd either ruin it, or b) want to copy me, end up sucking, cry, wipe her snot on me. This also meant that at an age where I wanted to explore my inner child, we couldn't have sugary drinks that turned your tongue purple for fear of her bouncing off the walls and cracking her skull open, or bring home a pet for fear of her riding it. The absolute worst thing about our age difference, though, was being told, "don't get her excited before bed" every time Little One rested her moppy head.

For reasons unknown to anyone, RIGHT before Little One's bedtime is when I get the crazies. Symptoms include jumping jacks, pokes, putting every sentence to music, and making a general fool out of myself, all the while having Little One, and often our mother, refrain from rolling their eyes back too hard out of fear that they'll stay that way.

Tonight, as Little One was getting into bed, I did the following:

1. Throw four shirts and three pairs of jeans at the foot of her bed, one by one, and hang them back up in the closet at a painstakingly slow pace.

2. Rip the sheet and comforter off of my bed and violently thrown them onto her, and say, "What? It's messy."

3. Mutter "nose pickers are deaf" under my breath as our mom walked out of the room.

4. Rub in the fact that Coco loves me more than her by recounting the number of times she's slept on my bed this week.

Oops. Good luck waking up in exactly 6 hours, sucker!

*Also, and consider this my public service announcement to you, the Internet: If anyone lures you into their home under the pretense of watching He's Just Not That Into You, THEY WANT TO KILL YOU. Consider yourselves warned. Don't say I never gave you nothing.

Updates

Internet, I've been neglecting you. Well, not the entirety of the internet, but this here page in particular. In fact, I wish I could ignore the internet more and write here all the time, but a) I love the internet too much, and b) I don't really have all that much to say. Also, you'd get bored, I'd get bored, there'd be a nasty break-up, we'd avoid each other on the street...Wait, what?

Anyway, I hope to be back to regular posting after next week, but in the mean time, some of things currently making my head explode include:

1. The new Twitter account I just set up for the cousins in my family: I don't know if these goosebumps are from excitement related to that, or the MEAT LOCKER status of my office.

2. Ellen DeGeneres replacing Paula Abdul on 'American Idol': I hope one of the contestants is a carpenter so she can tell them they NAILED IT.

3. Cupcakes: As in, why aren't there any IN MY MOUTH.

4. Analogies: I can't even begin to express my loathing for these. Bird is to fish as chopstick is to IN MY EYE PIERCING MY FRONTAL LOBE.

26: In Pictures

So, it's official. I'm old. BUT, getting there was fun. Have a look!



Got this WIIIICKED nail kit from my parents first thing in the morning. I don't know if my parents wanted to get me a present so much as my mom wanted me OUT OF HER CRAP, but excellent either way.



Got this necklace from FJ after I coveted it in her house a few weeks ago. My neck might buckle under the weight of it, but it'll totally be worth it.



Little One's envelope. Sealed with quality spit to prevent Coco from getting into it, and stuffed with this:



I'm not sure if she really understands how we're related.



Red velvet cupcakes. I've never been to heaven before, but I bet if you licked it, it would taste like these bad boys.



Books from Eureka. She's big on the edumacation.



Bling, from Little One, Brownies and Mouse. Wear your sunglasses the next time you're around me. You might get blinded by this ice. (Okay, these aren't really diamonds, but how badass did that sound?!)

That's how it ended, Internet. Great year, great birthday, great family and friends. But not THAT GREAT. There's always next year. Start planning.

Where I've been

I haven't been posting much here, and for good reason. Here's a list of things that have kept me away from this precious blog for the past while:

1. Ramadan: Not being able to eat three to twelve meals a day has really cut down on my brain activity/finger strength.

2. Work: I was taking planes, trains and automobiles (minus the planes) around Egypt last week for work. Let me tell you, walking into your house at 9 pm after being in the filthiest mango market you've ever seen is not inspiring.

3. My birthday: On Sunday, I turn Old. This is causing me much stress and gray hair. Send presents. It'll help.

Another mind numbing conversation

And this time, it WASN'T with Little One!

Friday night, the Js had one last (last?) hurrah before heading back to America to waste their days away without me. I THINK last night's shindig was a belated birthday party for MJ, a pre-birthday party for me and FJ, a going away bash, and an "o crap, Ramadan starts in ten minutes" celebration, but I'm still a little uncertain.

Anyway, as I was heading out, I pulled out my car key and this fine example of verbal mastery occurred:

I Can't Give His Name Initials Because Then You'd Know Who I Was Talking About: Hmm, a VW. Do you drive a Passat?

Me: No.

ICGHNIBTYKWIWTA: A Golf?

Me: Nope.

ICGHNIBTYKWIWTA: A Polo?

Me: Negative. Starts with a 'J.'

ICGHNIBTYKWIWTA: A Golf?

God, give me strength.

Egypt. Women. Marriage. Insanity.

I went to the official wedding ceremony of one of my coworkers last night, and as happy as I wanted to be for the guy, there were a few things standing in the way. First, the mosque was LITERALLY (some would say 'figuratively' would be a better word choice here, I disagree) four days away from my house. Second, the guy didn't crack a smile the whole way through. And finally, in his speech about what makes a good wife, the sheikh offered this pearl of wisdom:

"If a wife wakes up, gets dressed and leaves the house before her husband wakes up, she was not brought up well and has no manners."

REALLY NOW? Needless to say, this did not go over well with the ten development practitioners I was sitting in the middle of.

And you want to know the worst part? Someone asked me if they could have my piece of chocolate. And I said yes.

Julia Child, eat your heart out

Scene: Bedroom. Eating mashed pumpkin.

Me: Little One, will cinnamon make me stay up all night?

Little One: Umm, a) don't be an idiot. And b) if anything's going to make you stay up all night, it's going to be all the sugar in there.

Me: THERE'S SUGAR IN HERE?!

Little One: Yeah, can't you taste it?

Me: No. I spilled the whole jar of cinnamon on this. I can't taste anything.

And this, Internet, is why I shouldn't be allowed in the kitchen. Ever.

Suspects

Internet, I got no sleep last night. You and I both know my love for self-diagnosing, and I think I got myself so worked up about potentially being lactose intolerant that my beauty sleep was forsaken (and as Little One will tell you, that beauty sleep is much needed). I've been vocal about HATING cheese, but if I can't have cereal or coffee anymore because milk has been cut out of my diet (not a real diet, cool your jets), what will I do with my mornings? Be productive? Ha. CRISIS!

Anyway, possible reasons for my lack of shut eye include:

• My fear of rotten milk has now developed into a full blown anti-milk crusade
• The four nausea pills I took had some sort of caffeine in them
• Little One's warnings to sleep with one eye open have come to fruition

Anyone else out there's body waging war against them after drinking milk? I want milk to do my body good, I really do, but right now it's pretty intent on just bitch slapping me across the face. Suggestions?

Trauma

Last Wednesday, my mother, Little One and I took our cat to the groomer (yes, it takes a village). Coco is a half-Persian, half-Rugrat, long-haired little rascal, and every year she has to get the knots shaved out of her. Coco is notoriously unfriendly (and maybe a little racist), and loves alerting the neighbors every time we take her out of the comfort of her luxury dwelling.

For this particular shaving, it took three (THREE!) tranquilizer shots to sedate her, and she still hasn't forgiven us for the events that transpired. Not only does she now look ridiculous, but she refuses to pay any attention to us, has gotten mildly aggressive, and never wants to cuddle. Now, I'm all for her rebelling and acting out against us, but let's take a look back at some of the traumatizing events of my past and see where they've led me:

1. Six years old: Being hit on the shoulder by the wing of a disgusting bird while riding my bike.
2. 10 years old: Having a gecko run down my arm while tilting our mailbox over to retrieve the mail.
3. 25 years old: Having someone put their BARE foot (*shudder) on my exposed leg.

Ahh yes, proceed Coco. You have every right to be pissed and hold your shaving against us for the rest of your nine lives.

Pittsburgh Pirates shirts and floral shorts

I don't know how I feel about the Internet showing me this article. Apparently MTV is now giving celebrities the chance to critique their own outfits? Presumably if celebrities are wearing these outfits on their own accord, they think they look good, right? And if they don't, why would they want to go on record talking about how ridiculous they look? I mean, in the 8th grade, I wore this outfit...



...but you don't see me talking about it.

(Click photo to enlarge. Do so at your own risk, however.)

Hold on to your feathers!

Little One started driving lessons yesterday. She turns 19 in November (read about her entrance into adulthood here!), and we've figured it's about time she starts paying her dues and earning her keep in this family. I've been chauffeuring her around for the past six years (I was a late bloomer and didn't get my license till I turned 20), and I'm sick of always having to be the one responsible for the late-night ice cream runs. So, Little One, good luck and don't let the jerks honking their horns at you while you restart the manual car you've managed to stall while changing gears get you down. Until then, I'll be the one dodging behind parked cars when I see you inch by at 14 miles an hour with your clammy hands clenching the steering wheel in a death grip.

Friends Shmends

(Warning: I'm going to mention my BlackBerry in this post. Please don't roll your eyes so far back that they get stuck that way.)

So, a couple months ago, I bought a BlackBerry. You can read about my love for it here. Since then, I've been pretty good about not letting it take over my life, I haven't downloaded every application under the sun, and almost (but didn't) broke into tears when I dropped and scratched it a few weeks back.

This morning, one of my best friends (let's call her EVIL [just for now, though]) told me to download the latest BlackBerry Messenger application. I resisted, citing my dislike for 'change.' However, under EVIL and G-Money's peer pressure, I buckled. The son of a gun downloaded in three seconds, and for the past three hours, I've been trying to get the piece of crap OFF MY PHONE. This is the worst application I've ever seen, it makes my phone think it's battery power is equivalent to the memory of a goldfish (three seconds, if you're wondering), and all around SUCKS.

I rue the day I listened to EVIL and G-Money and will not rest until my precious phone is back to normal. Moral of this story, if your friends, even those with dimples and charm, tell you to do something that goes against your gut instinct, refuse and PUNCH THEM IN THE FACE.

GRE. BAD.

Today marked my first official study day for the GRE. I didn't have to take an entrance exam for grad school back in 2005, so the last time I filled in one of those dreaded bubbles with a number 2 pencil was back in 2001. That would also mark the last time I did math. Needless to say, while doing my practice test this morning (you know, to determine your starting score so you can assess how much blood, sweat and tears (O THE TEARS!) you have to put into your studying), I might as well have taken a nap.

I reckon it'll be easier to learn formulas than reading comprehension, but if you happen to pass by my house and find pencils in my ear instead of on my scratch paper, call for help. Please?

You wish you had these

So, I might NOT HAVE TOTALLY STOLEN THIS IDEA AT ALL from some other blogger, but her's are totally weird and make you want to look off to the side and casually close the lid of your laptop so people can't see what you're reading. I give you...texts saved on my BlackBerry:

• Today in class, the professor asked us how we would identify ourselves in one word. Some said egyptian. Others said arab. Some said muslim. Others said coptic. Ezbeligy said, "i am the pharoahs."

• Hey little goose! Just a little text to remind u that i think about u with or without appendix.

• Brother. Locked, loaded. Ready to poke, flare and stomp. Let's smite ugly goons and move constantly upward. I'll keep sending you secret love messages on facebook.

• I'm sorry, i was just blinded by the food, you know you're the one.

• Moose is gay.

• Never said i liked her. Just that i don't hate her as much as my brain thought i did. Doesn't excuse personal space violations.

• Think accounting guy might secretly be a muppet.

• Shove it.

• Worst. Day. Ever.

• Lol re [professor] trying to convince us that the cultural revolution in china was good for the country. Someone needs to send this woman some wikipedia links.

• You should shoot me out of pity like at the end of of mice and men.

• The results of a genetics experiment gone awry?

• Hey Boo!!! Holla at ya boy - This text is the most productive thing i've done at work today!

• You win that one a thousand times.

• I.T. probs or dead in ditch?

• Someone in my computer science class just asked the TA if we would all get A's if the professor died.

• One of my co-workers in fayoum started a diet and will begin exercising too. She joined a gym and will start working out tonight. What will she do u ask? Well, sauna of course.

• I can orchestrate a simultaneous make out session. Just to drive it home.

• Hate you!

• Your toes are like baby shrimp! Birds!

Overheard

Comments directed at me while walking around the office in my new kuffiyeh (I was wearing pants too, ask anyone) today:

1. Is that the Palestinian flag?
2. IS THAT A SOCCER JERSEY?! (Pretty sure this was in reference to my shirt and not my kuffiyeh, but the Intern's not the sharpest tool in the shed)
3. Oh, are you going to Gaza? (My response: Yes, yes I am. For lunch. I'll be back tonight.)

Remember when I quit this job, but I'm somehow back in the office? Yeah, should we discuss that?

*Hey you! Have you seen this blog's new masthead up there at the top of the page? Tell me what you think. This blog's lookin' at you. *wink. *gag.

Fancy Fresh

So, More Positive Than Your Average Bear has gained roughly 8 zillion cool points today. He texted me this afternoon telling me to check my mail, and the only things that came to mind were that he a) confessed his undying love for me (it'll happen one day), b) sent me a forward with baby heads sticking out of felt flower petals (has happened before), or c) suggested new music for me to listen to (ha, who was I kidding? Only I do that).

What was waiting for me was WAY AWESOMER. There were MULTIPLE masthead options for me to choose from. MPTYAB and I have been throwing ideas around for new blog mastheads for a while, and after maaaybe getting a little emotional the other day when in his presence, he put his nimble fingers to good use and came up with a few ideas.

I'm pretty much IN LOVE with the one I've replaced the old one with, but maybe in a couple months you can tell me that you're bored and I'll put up one of his other designs. Happy days!

Gifting

I'll be 26 (yikes!) next month, and I thought I wanted a new iPod, or a laptop, or perhaps even a job (yeah, remember that new job I mentioned? Scratch that...), but no. In case you're sitting around, wracking your brain, making Santa-like lists of the perfect gift for me, I'll make it easy for you. Get me this. You don't even have to wait until next month.



What does one do with a baby elephant? Take her/him for walks around Maadi? Give them the creative freedom to paint masterpieces with their trunks? Carry them around in a Baby Bjorn? I don't know. I just want one. LEAVE ME ALONE.

Something I won't apologize for...

...is laughing profusely when people fall. Hard. I can't help it. My first reaction isn't to ask people if they're okay, or lend a helping hand. It's to point, laugh until I cry (happy tears), point again, ask everyone in a 10 meter radius if they saw what happened, and then laugh some more.

I thought I had a soft spot for children, and really, Internet, who wouldn't instinctively run up to a child and ask if they were okay if they saw them take a nose dive? Apparently me, because this photo had me on the floor.



Does this make me an awful person? Probably. Do I care? Not at all.

All in a day's work

"Started" my new job yesterday. I don't know if paragraphs will do the day justice, because it was JUST.THAT.GREAT. (read: sarcasm), so please, let me list for you what my day consisted of.

• 10:45 am - Get to work
  
• 10:46 am - Give three kisses to a woman I've only met once
• 10:50 am - Realize that my work-issued laptop didn't have an operating system on it
  
• 11:30 am - Eat everything I brought to eat for the day
  
• 2:30 pm - Leave work after sitting around for four hours harassing everyone I know on BlackBerry Messenger
• 2:37 pm - Return to my old office, only to be asked "ALREADY?!" by my ex-boss who thought I was coming to ask for my job back

Day 2 at the job went a lot better. I had two meetings, told the director that something was "not my job," and e-mailed some work to More Positive Than Your Average Bear to fix up and make look sharp so I didn't have to fiddle with it myself. Come to think of it, this new job may have potential!

Well Played, Hiccups

Things it's almost impossible to do while hiccups are kicking your ass:

1. Sound important and knowledgeable during a meeting
2. Blow your nose without asphyxiating yourself
3. Not annoy your coworkers
4. Bust out some seated, ghetto fab moves while listening to the new Mos Def album in your car
5. Put some water out for your cat without spilling it all over the floor

Damn you, hiccups. Seven times in one day? I mean, if we're going for world records, let's start with something we know we're good at. Like this!

Knowing your market value

My boss' 16 year old son is interning at my office for the summer. We had a few hiccups when he first started - his English isn't as good as I thought it was, and miscommunication led to some pretty amusing exchanges. Yesterday, after helping him insert a row into the table he was working on (a task which the five other people in his office were incapable of doing), he sauntered over to my desk, leaned on my chair, flipped to a random page in my notebook, and wrote down his cell number and e-mail address (firstname_the greatking@hotmail.com). Today, I'm in a skirt and have my hair down (two looks which I've abandoned completely in the workplace for a reason I can only describe as: I really couldn't give an eff), and The Great King came over and asked me why I looked so good.

One word: Sa-weet!

Saturday Madness

At the wedding I went to on Saturday, I:

• Got mosquito bites in areas I didn't even know I had
• Had dinner twice
  
• Was awesomely surprised by the return of the OssMan (WICKED surprise, bruv. Innit!)
  
• Replied, "I like songs by Black people!" when asked what kind of music I wanted to listen to
• Chatted with someone who goes by FHB, the B standing for 'Brince'

Good thing the people I know aren't in the habit of marrying each other because I don't know if activity like that needs to be repeated. Except for the fun surprises. Next time though, OssMan, bring presents. We might be a LITTLE MORE excited that way.

There's only so much I can do for her

Little One: Guess how many times I hit myself in the head with my laptop today? Hint: It's not zero.

Good thing summer school starts up again tomorrow. This swine flu-induced school shut down has definitely not done wonders for her intellect.

Geeks Just Wanna Have Fun

On Saturday, I'm going to the all-day wedding of a good friend. Said friend is really into books about dragons, and engaging in multi-player video games where you create your own world and language and food or something. I haven't quite figured out how the game (maybe there's more than one?) works because every time I inquire about it, my eyes glaze over, rigor mortis sets in, and the people around me have to do that CLEAR! business and put electrically charged paddles to my chest. Tonight's his bachelor party, and his male friends have created a treasure hunt-type activity for the groom - complete with clues and all. Doesn't this just make you want to pinch their nerdy little cheeks?

False Advertising

My recent cereal purchase claims to be a "Good Source of Vitamin D." Really? Because a good source of vitamin D would be NOT BEING IN MY OFFICE listening to my office mate ask me if her mosquito bites were swine flu. Or hearing my boss tell me that his son who's interning at the office for the summer can have the money he paid for his lunch back if he gets sick and it all comes up again. Or reading a report that talks about "aluminum casserole." What does that even mean?! Here's to getting some real vitamin D exposure, as well as losing some water weight, before Saturday, or else I'll be walking around my friend's wedding looking like this:

Things you wish you talked to your friends about

Below is a list of topics discussed with some of my besties over gross chocolate cake last night:

• fish in alexandria (we should have it)
  
• american politics (we're sick of talking about it)
  
• bathing suits and wandering eyes (we don't like the combination)
  
• mexican food (we thought we were going to have it today)
  
• okay books turned into bad movies where little girls are subjected to the advances of nasty old men (we don't like this combination either)
  
• stool samples (I should produce (?) one to check if I have the typhoid parasite or not)
  

We're an eclectic bunch. If you're lucky, maybe we'll talk to YOU about molestation and poop the next time you see us out!

Sister, Sister

Me: Little One! Come sit in the room with me!

Little One: Okay! What will we do?

Me: I don't know, talk?

Little One: UGH.

Seriously, Little One? It's not like I was going to teach you how to twirl a baton (which, by the way, would be AWE-SOME) or roll your eyes so hard that you hurt the back of your neck. I mean, we have to leave some things until you're older.

Office Humor

It's paragraphs like this that make report editing not as mind-numbing:

A small sample of women were asked which TV spots they had seen on avian influenza and they immediately recalled the Shaaban Abdel Rahim spots. The sampled women believed that there was a vaccine against avian influenza for humans. The study team identified one spot on vaccinating birds, but the star of the spot, Shaaban Abdel Rahim, ends with a jingle that says: “take a shot and feel at ease.” Obviously, he was addressing a chicken, but many individuals were confused.

Yes, of course. Of course he was addressing a chicken. Who wouldn't? My fear of birds aside, how does one actually address a chicken? Do they respond better to jingles? How can you tell if they're listening? WHERE ARE THE ANSWERS TO THESE QUESTIONS?!

It's a good thing I wasn't drinking milk just now

Seldom do I laugh out loud when I'm reading things on the internet (the rare exceptions being e-mails from my idiot friends, as Josephine loves pointing out). However, my attention was recently brought to this blog by Spaz, and I've been eating up the archives like softball field hot dogs.

One particular entry, from February 2003, highlights activities from the blogger's weekend. She says:

• preparing to give Steve a black eye and his sober friend Andy getting very concerned and saying, “Sarah, I don’t think you should do that!” while his drunk friend Tony yelled “HIT HIM!”

I'd like to think I'm a Tony and not an Andy.

Confession

The only foreseeable reason to have a man in my life right now would be to open the jar of green olives tormenting me from the refrigerator.

Windex, The Pants' Cleaner

Someone landed on this page after typing this into their search bar:

"you can call me coffee i grind so fine. i like to clean my pants with windex on occasion.- whats thi"

Yes. That is exactly the theme I was going for when I started this blog.

Question

Today's intellectual conversation (see others here and here), brought to you by Little One and I:

Me: So, do boy cats have nipples?

Little One: Hmm, good question. Don't all mammals have nips?

Me: Well, do zebras have nips?

Little One: I guess so. Male monkeys have nips. Is that just specific to primates, though? YOU'RE specific to primates. *snicker*

Zing. Maybe, but that still doesn't answer my question.

How many Egyptians?

The men in my family had the bright idea of wearing bow ties for my cousin's wedding a couple weeks back. My dad, perhaps the brightest of the bunch, bought a pre-tied bow tie, but was told that real, untied ties were coming in from Switzerland. Little did anyone know, however, was that none of the men knew how to tie these ties (stop saying ties).

So, in came the women. The groom's sister brought a Google print out detailing the exact steps, and in between getting our make up and hair done, we all tried to master the art of the bow tie. Which we did. Observe:

Step 1: Attempt to tie the tie on your cousin's forearm.

Step 2: If that doesn't work, attempt to tie the bow tie on the bed.

Step 3: If THAT doesn't work, attempt to tie the bow tie around Little One's neck while she holds up the directions. This step is usually the most beneficial.


Success!