Yeah. I’m moving my blog again. Bite me.

Poshlust.OneOrTheOther.Info

Because my “other half” is possessive.

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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Clearly, I’ve been busy. Really busy. Seven classes killed me. I just didn’t have time to blog. I was totally exhausted. It’s not the first time I take seven classes, but these weren’t merciful at all. Four of the classes were in Arabic, obviously not of my major. One was Human Rights in English, and only two were major classes. Even the major classes weren’t merciful. Four hundred level painful theoretical analytical mind digesting classes. So, yes, I disappeared. But really, am I to be blamed? All I would’ve done if I were to post is complain. Be thankful I saved you from the torture of yet another set of complaints in the blogging world. Sigh. Yeah, enough of my excuses. I had no right. I know. But I didn’t feel missed. Thanks to you.

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So, what have I been up to?

I’ve been addicted to my BlackBerry. Anyone want my PIN?

I watched all of Sex and The City plus the movie as a very successful method of procrastination.

I’ve been dragged to social obligations.

I’ve been talked into watching Grey’s Anatomy. Don’t spoil it. Really.

I’ve been buying books and eating sushi until I’m broke.

I’ve been to Swair’s wedding, which was great:)

Oh, and I’ve been gaining weight. In reality, I’m losing, but my mom is insisting that I’ve gained, so I’m joining a really cool gym I checked out two days ago.

I’ve been seeing a lot of Sou. Thank the lord. I need her around to keep me sane, but I don’t think she knows that.

I’ve been up to more. But the other stuff is boring.

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One more thing.. Yes, I’m not done. Shush!

I’m tweeting here. Follow my daily life if you want.

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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I MISS MY BLOG.

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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After analyzing the Johari window to prove an argument, I realized that all my anger, frustration, and anxiety lies in the Unknown and comes out in my dreams. The dreams aren’t subtle. They’re strong and unsettling. In each dream, something really bad happens. And what’s worse is things aren’t the way they usually are in the dream. By that I mean people I love don’t seem to love me. They don’t seem to care for whatever bad event turns out in my subconscious. They don’t do anything to stop it. I wonder what it is that makes the dreams happen. Is it because I hesitate to talk about what’s bothering me? Is it because I developed the habit of detaching myself from whatever it is? I refuse to accept the things that cause all these negative feelings, yet I don’t talk about them. What’s the point? I wonder if I’d care that someone didn’t like how I am. I wonder if I’d be willing to listen to someone complain or point their fingers at me. I mean, in complete honesty with myself, would I? I think I would, but then again, it depends on the person. Back to the dreams, they haunt me. I don’t think I want to sleep ever again.

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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Today’s topic: Trauma (I have a professor who pronounces it trawma)

It’s been around two years since I started driving, and I never had an accident.. until a few weeks ago. Two accidents in ten days.

Accident 1:

Trying to find a parking spot before class. A girl reversed on me. I talked to her and told her to call her family and suggested that she take her stuff out of the trunk which is now gone. Keep in mind that I drive an SUV, and her car was a Corolla.

After I called Dad (to ask where daftar elsayara is), N. (for comfort), and 777 (to come document the accident), I went to talk to the girl again, and she yelled at me: ENTAY MA ETSHOUFEEN?! SHLOUN MESRE3A CHETHI W DA3MATNI?! MA TESTI7EEN 3ALA WAYHECH? 7ADICH GHAL6ANA MN REELECH LA RASECH! etc. I ignored her, walked away, and locked myself in my car. A while later, her sister knocked on my window. I lowered it.

Her: Entay eli sayga?

Me: Yeah..

Her: ENTAY ELGHAL6ANA MU EKHTI! MA TESTI7EEN 3ALA WAYHECH RAY7A EMSARKHA 3ALAIHA WEHYA MEKHTAR3A MN EL7ADETH?! A3ALMECH 3END ELSHER6A! etc.

Me: ;O (closed window)

Went to the makhfar, and they determined that she was mistaken.

Accident 2

The day after I got my car back resulting from damages done by Accident 1, I left the Shwaikh campus and got stuck at a roundabout. I’m on the rightmost lane, and right next to me is a big truck carrying a container from the port. The cars weren’t moving, but as soon as the car in front of the truck moved, the driver decided to turn. Where would I go? Can’t go over the pavement since my tires were already too close. I beeped my horn, but he kept turning and smashed my side view mirror. I beeped my horn and signaled to him in the mirror not to keep going. He did anyway, and smashed my car. I thought I was going to die. He left.

The hysteria checked in seconds later. A guy came 30 minutes later to tell me that he stopped the truck and got the information. The makhfar were idiots. They didn’t even attempt finding the guy.

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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I joined the Blackberry craze, and… I’m addicted;\

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She walked in through the door, the heat of her body clashing with the coolness of the house. She took off her shoes and let her bare feet slap against the tiles. It felt good. She walked around the house, thinking to herself what things would be like had she not made the decisions she’d made. Then, she thanked God that she did.

Her ex-room felt empty. Little of the things she loves remained. The big red teddy bear is still there. A couple of pictures on the mirror. A framed picture in the arms of the teddy bear. Her reading chair. The half empty wardrobes. Everything felt less familiar with time. Even the bed.

When she slept in it, she felt like she was missing something. The green of the walls and the patterned curtains weren’t supposed to be there. She woke up feeling disoriented. Where is she? And more importantly, where is he?

She realized that the house was just a house. It wasn’t home anymore, but it felt good to walk around in it.

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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[WARNING] This is strictly a Sou post. If you’re crazy enough to not like her, stay away!

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Sou drew three sushis and stuck them on the back of the door of our hang out place. I die for sushi. The hubsand doesn’t eat sushi. See where ‘m going?

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On our first day in Dubai, I made sure to see Sou, and we practically jumped each other. Then this happens:

Hotel person: Is she one of your family?

Me: No, she’s my best friend.

Hotel person: So, how long have you not seen each other?

Me: One month!

Hotel person: One year?

Me: No, one month!

Hotel person: Oh, I thought one year. She was so excited.

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On another Sou note… Me, myself, and N. were conversing a while ago:

Me: I told Sou (her real name) the taxi jokes;p

N.: Was she born here?

Me: Yeah

N.: Is that her first name?

Me: ;O What do you mean?

N.: It’s her real name?

Me: Yeah, it’s her real first name!

N.: I thought it was a nickname!

Me: Then what’s Sou and what’s S********?!

N.: A nickname for the  nickname?

Me: Okay, I have to call her right now!

We had a good laugh. To think that N. would know my best friend’s real name after a year of knowing she exists and getting reminded that she does every single day more than once.

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I’m swamped with work. Going back to reading to write a response.

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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First for N.’s tag.

Here are the rules:

STEP 1 – NAME OF YOUR ARTIST/BAND 
Go to “Wikipedia.com”, hit “Random Article” (or just click the following link)http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random 
The first random Wikipedia article is “The name of your Artist/Band”.

STEP 2 – ALBUM NAME 
Go to “Quotationspage.com”, then click on “Random quotations” (or just click the following link) http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3 
The last four or five words of the very last quote of the page is the “Title of your first album”.

STEP 3 – ALBUM ART 
Go to Flickr.com, click on “Explore”, then click on “The last seven days” (or just click the following link) http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days 
Third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.

STEP 4 – PUT IT TOGETHER 
Crop the image to a square format. Use Photoshop or similar programs to put the text together in any way you like.

I tag; Sou, F., Do0da, and Angel

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Now, the Dubai Literature Festival.

It was so much fun! I bought a suitcase to fill up with books. I don’t feel like writing much after the tag, so just one salfa and the pictures. So, I attended six lectures, all of which were super interesting. My favorite has to be the “Women Writing from the Arab World” although the host was an idiot. Hani Nakshabandi! Shame on him! He wouldn’t let the women speak. He wouldn’t let them answer questions. He kept commenting on how they were attacking the male race when they didn’t even mention the word man! So when I decide to comment, he decides to shut me up. It went something like this:

Amethyst: Kel wa7ed ygoul qe9eta, elrajul ygoul qe9eta w elmar2a etgoul qe9at`ha. Fa 3ashan chethi lazem naf9el bain adab w adab.

Hani Nakshabandi: Na36i a7ad tani fur9a ena yetkalam.

Amethyst: Bas fi ba3ad, buga shayain.

Hani Nakshabandi: 3a6i a7ad tani fur9a ma3a elmicrophone.

Amethyst: Fi ba3ad. Mu kel adab elnesa2 adab 7azeen..

And then he was like, you’re not supposed to comment on my comments, you’re supposed to ask questions. Seriously? Kaify! CHAIFY!

But what made me really happy was that a grey-haired intellectual male stood up for me, and the evil Hani couldn’t say a word about handing over the mic to someone else even though he kept on going for longer than I did;p

Pictures? Yes? No? Maybe?

Well, mu bkaifkum!

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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I have a lot to say. I’m trying to figure out how to post. Do I divide into honeymoon, Dubai Literature Festival, and random stuff? Or do I just go ahead and put everything here in one long post?

While I figure that out, I have some news for unknown. Your comments for the “Cartier” post were held up in spam. They are now published and replied to.

Okay, so I’m dividing. Honeymoon first.

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Just so you know, the Honeymoon time span included my birthday, N.’s birthday, and Valentines Day. Oh, and if anyone goes to Salzburg, you have to go try the Lasagna at Trattoria Gabriella in City Center near the Hautbanhof train station. It’s the best lasagna we’ve ever had in our lives! I’m serious. It’s that good. Their Sacher Tarte is overrated. Don’t listen to their evil talk about it. My favorite place would be Salzburg’s Old Town. Enough talk? Pictures?

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

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I confess. I’ve been back from the honeymoon/Austria since Friday night. I just couldn’t get myself to post. I think it’s the fact that I only have a few days of nothing to do before school, and I really want to do nothing. And you guessed it: too lazy to post pictures. Bite me.

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My make up shopping is not getting any better. Although I’m using everything I buy, I still feel a tad guilty when I see how much I have. Anyways, pushing the guilt aside, anyone know of a neat way to organize my make up? A big divided box? A shelved cabinet? Something nice that can fit on my dresser and not conquer it all? Please and thank you?

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Feminism is not about hating men. Or proving that we’re better. Feminists don’t have to be lesbians. They can if they want to, but it’s not a must. I’m seriously tired of people misunderstanding Feminism. It’s about women appreciating themselves. And being acceptable of being independent. It’s about a lot of things. If you’re one of those people who misconstrued it, read yourselves some Feminist theory!

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I’m feeling a bit strange lately. Don’t even try and say that it’s PMS because it’s not. I don’t think I have talent in handling a lot of emotional ups and downs. I tend to space out and lose myself in a very vivid imagination. One that I might have only recently discovered. But I’m leaving for the Dubai Literature Festival in several hours. That should allow me to meditate through this phase and see what it’s all about. Right?