The Nerdy Nomad

closure

2011-11-06T19:37:00.002+03:00

I had a friend once whom I loved as dearly as a sister. For years we celebrated every small triumph and commiserated with eachother after every disappointment. We had always been on the same wavelength and shared a strong, effortless bond - the kind of bond one feels will last forever. And then my friend disappeared off the face of the earth. One day we were texting eachother about Alias reruns, and literally the next day, my friend vanished. For over a year I tried contacting her via letter, email, phone, SMS, Facebook, family, and friends - all to no avail.

It would be a monstrous understatement to say that my friend's absence from my life hurt. Her sudden and unexpected refusal to have anything to do with me was a blow so painful it still takes my breath away. Not so much because it felt like a betrayal of my trust and the memory of all the experiences we shared, but because to this day I do not understand what precipitated this estrangement. A part of me (a very naive, childish part) likes to believe that my friend's longtime dream has come true: that a covert government agency (or even the FBI) has recruited her and that she is now kicking bad-guy ass like a blonde Sydney Bristow or uncovering conspiracies with a Mulder-esque partner, and is not allowed to contact her old friends (for security reasons, of course!). But no matter how elaborate my fantasies, I can't rationalise away the hurt, because in the end, I never got closure. And ultimately, that's what I struggle with the most.

So in the interest of closure, I thought it only fair that I should write this one last post - a farewell of sorts. As of today, I will no longer update this blog. As much as I have loved sharing my life with you, I simply don't have the time for regular updates anymore (as you have all already noticed, I'm sure).

This is my last year in Kuwait, and in addition to the massive relocation effort that looms ahead of me, I am writing for a local magazine, trying to complete my first historical non-fiction book, and dealing with all the responsibilities of a teacher and administrator. Oh, and did I mention that this sailing season is busier than ever? Racing, skippering, teaching novice sailors, and helping to run the club is almost a full-time job in itself. Of course, there's also icing on that cake: we were invited to Abu Dhabi for the Volvo Ocean Race, so my winter break will be spent in a most enjoyable manner.

And on that note, I want to wish each and every one of you health, wealth, and happiness - thank you for reading my ramblings... you were a patient and indulgent bunch, indeed.

XO

August catch-up

2011-08-01T19:55:00.005+03:00

Don't get your hopes up - there's no way I can go into details about my activities over the past few months. But I can give you some of the highlights.

School ended on a messy note. Next year will be my last year in Kuwait, and although I didn't get to switch to French or Spanish as I requested (denied again! grrr...), come September I do get to switch to English 9 while also teaching one section of French I. I get bored easily, so a little change is better than no change. Granted, this means that I get to spend this summer preparing lesson plans, but it's all new material for me, and therefore worth it. The only major downside: I had to move to a new classroom on the last day at work, which means that when I get back, I have exactly two days to transform the war zone the former teacher left me with into something that resembles a place of learning.

In personal news, I broke my left arm right at the start of the summer holidays. It was a stupid accident, and made life annoying (I was in the process of reorganizing my apartment, so only having one functional arm was trying). But, on the bright side, it happened after the end of the racing season, so I didn't have to sail one-handed like Captain Hook.

So what am I doing this summer? Aside from hating the hot, humid weather with the burning passion of a thousand suns? Relaxing as much as I can, to counteract the cruel and unusual punishment that was last year. Catching up on reading. Writing quite a bit. I'm currently finishing a magazine article and taking advantage of the awesome libraries here in London to conduct some research for the historical non-fiction book I'm working on. I'll tell you more about it some other time.

I confess, I'm a little freaked out by the fact that it's now August. The summer is flying by (as usual), and I'm trying desperately not to ruin what's left of it by counting down my last days of freedom. But who am I kidding? Time is constantly ticking by in the back of my mind... Curses!!

And finally, I miss Andrea, Anita, and Kirsten, who left Kuwait for good in June. I just can't imagine being back there without them. I don't care if I meet perfectly lovely new people in September; they couldn't possibly hold a candle to my three friends.

So I guess I'm suffering from a bit of panic, with some sadness thrown in for flavour. I just really hope that between sailing, writing, and the relocation project, I'll be too busy to dwell on the fact that my life in Kuwait is definitely changing.

Prospero's Children

2011-07-26T21:44:00.005+03:00

Every year, around this time, I reread Jan Siegel's Prospero's Children. And every year, for over a decade now, I am haunted for days by the poem that opens the novel. I am not sure why this particular poem has such a powerful effect on me. Whatever the reason may be, I wanted to share the author's untitled verses with you.

When dawn was grey you went to catch the tide
leaving me waking in an empty bed
for I was loved and loved but never wed
and left alone to hope and pray and fear:
God speed you back to me, my bonny dear.

The storm came screaming from the ocean's heart
shredding the clouds, whipping the waves to foam;
a broken spar was all the sea sent home
when darkling night gave way to morning drear.
No last farewell for thee, my bonny dear.

I went to church but not in bridal white
and sang the hymns, although you did not come,
and laid pale garlands on a vacant tomb
and said a prayer for no one else to hear:
God keep your soul somewhere, my bonny dear.

Where once I kissed your cheek the fishes feed
and mermaid-children steal your finger-bones
to play at dice, and on your bed of stones
the whale-songs echo through your hollow ear:
Sleep well forever there, my bonny dear.

vernal musings

2011-05-08T18:29:00.003+03:00

I tried to ignore it. I closed my curtains, pretended the dust storms were just foggy mornings (and foggy afternoons... and foggy evenings), and insisted on continuing to wear light sweaters in my over-air-conditioned apartment. But I can no longer deny the undeniable: spring is in the air. Kuwaiti spring, that is.

Today, for instance, was not just balmy; it was warm. And by warm, of course, I mean hot - as in "I'm damp all over, despite ditching the light sweater". *sigh*

Let's face it: I'm not really a summer person. I'm more of a summer vacation person. Year round. Which begs the question, Why am I living in the Middle East? Hmm... good question.

I guess it's not so bad most of the year. In fact, this year we were positively spoiled, as the cool, rainy weather lasted well into heat-wave season. And frankly, commuting from one air conditioned building to another air conditioned building in an air conditioned car is not that uncomfortable during the warm months.

Except for days like today, when one has the misfortune of hopping into a warm, sticky, distinctly un-air-conditioned taxi, with a driver who has clearly not mastered the art of bathing or discovered antiperspirant or both. It was a very... umm... shall we say... fragrant ride. *sigh*

I hate it when my Porsche is in the shop for maintenance... Cayman beats taxi any day. : p

inclementitis

2011-04-13T17:33:00.003+03:00

Last night, during our Lost World marathon, we were expecting another mother-of-all-storms (think hurricane-force winds). Mother nature, however, had other plans, because by the time Kirsten and I called it a night around the pumpkin hour, it was windy but still clear.

Not much to my surprise, I woke up to a soft, white world. In fact, as Anita and I were watching Raise the Red Lantern (a fabulous Chinese movie starring Gong Li), I happened to mention to her that if I squint just right, the view outside my balcony doors could pass for a London snow storm. Anita chuckled. I kept on wishing for a real white-out. I miss snow...

But I digress.

I am now watching the Alien movies (hey - I've been trapped indoors for 24 hours and I already finished re-reading War of the Worlds; what's a girl supposed to do besides indulge in her home theater and one of the best franchises ever created?... maybe I'll watch Predators next... Adrien Brody plays a shockingly convincing special ops dude).

I am simultaneously watching trailers on my iPhone. Did you know that Werner Herzog has completed a new documentary, Cave of Forgotten Dreams? Earlier in his career, this acclaimed German director made mostly theatrical films; he now focuses his talents primarily on documentaries - and they are breathtaking. I had the pleasure of briefly chatting with him about his filmmaking some years back and the man is as intelligent, warm, and enthusiastic about his craft as his work suggests.

And now, back to the adventures of Ripley and company.

twenties girl

2011-04-08T16:14:00.005+03:00

Today is a big day. Not only is it the first day of my spring staycation (yep - still staying put for nine glorious days), but I also get to go to that Kuwaiti wedding I mentioned a couple of posts ago.

And because the fashionistas out there might be interested, here's my 1920s-inspired outfit for tonight:

lavender silk and linen couture dress (I have one of the only three ever made)
light brown vintage leather shoes
my favorite Louis Vuitton clutch
an opera-length string of pearls that I'm going to wear knotted

As always, click on the picture for a larger view.

armageddon

2011-03-25T19:41:00.004+03:00

In many ways, life in Kuwait is cyclical.

Every year we contend with some sort of bizarre shortage (such as the great sour cream shortage of 2009 - not to be confused with the great taco seasoning shortage of 2011).

And now, even as I type, we are experiencing our annual end of days.

Much like that morning last year (or was it the year before last?) when dust completely blotted out the sky, today's "day" has suddenly turned to night. One minute the sea was blue and the sky was bright, and then the next minute a huge dark blob that I mistook for an angry storm cloud began to gobble up the outside world. Five minutes into the storm, daylight had metamorphosed into a murky mass. Ten minutes into the storm, visibility had been reduced to nearly zero. Fifteen minutes into the storm, we were breathing in chalky air. Awful. And the gale force winds continue to rattle our windows.

Internet and cellular services are shaky at best in this kind of weather, but I've managed to upload some pictures I took with my iPhone in the first few minutes of the storm - just to help you visualize the environment I am currently inhabiting.

Oh well... I suppose that if I must spend the evening trapped indoors, at least I'm trapped with Paul. *wicked grin*

To my right, only a strip of blue sky remains...

To my left, the skyline is vanishing...

Moments later, there is nothing but darkness...

California would be so much nicer right about now.

seasons

2011-03-17T22:22:00.002+03:00

I was going to post this from my iPhone, on the go, but I feel too lazy to peck away at the little touch-buttons tonight, so I willed myself to grab my lappy.

The past three months have been very exciting.

I am glad to announce that the dust has literally settled: the apartment renovations are done and the place looks gorgeous, if I do say so myself.

My mumsy visited again in February and this time around all were in good health and we managed to squeeze in not only quality time together, but a number of authentic Kuwaiti experiences as well.

Fortunately, winter this year was amazing: cold, windy, and rainy (well... stormy is more like it - a very British winter, if I do say so myself). Unfortunately, we took the Wanderer out on a couple of rainy weekends only to be caught in surprise gales. One of them was severe enough to nearly capsize us - luckily we managed to ride out the storm and not get the Kuwaiti coastguard involved. She's a good old tub, the Wanderer - no wonder I love her so much.

After Kenya (which was amazing, by the way, but I refrain from posting about it because I'm working on an article based on the trip, and I don't want to run into copyright issues) I've decided that it's time to stay put for once. So... instead of chartering a catamaran and sailing in Thailand for a little over a week, as we had originally planned, we're staying home. Plenty of sailing and scuba diving and chilling to be done here in Kuwait.

This past week, in particular, I've been working like a mad person because I've got two photography showcases coming up - one this Saturday and one in April. Having the home theater fully functional is especially helpful now, since my Mac is hooked up to the Viera and I can play around with my pictures to my heart's content.

Also in April I will get to experience my first Kuwaiti wedding. From what I'm told, it will definitely be something to write home about, so I'm looking forward to it very much. There are few things in this country as fun as getting dolled up and dancing with one's girlfriends until the wee hours of the morning. Oh... wait... that probably applies to other countries as well. Heeheehee.

Finally, I'm super stoked about Fast Five coming out - I love all of my husband's movies, but for some reason this one has me more excited than usual. Woohoo!

OK. I'm off to get some much-needed rest now. Noodles!

let it snow, let it snow, let it snow...

2010-12-14T12:36:00.006+03:00

... because we're on the second day of a dust storm. Granted, it is the first dust storm since my return to Kuwait, but still... wouldn't a proper snowfall be so much nicer? Too bad Kuwait doesn't do dust days. : (

On the bright side, I've just been appointed acting principal until the end of the week. I wonder how many kids I can suspend between now and the end of Thursday?... Bwahahahaha. I think I'll daydream about that while I get my hair done tonight. And because I haven't posted any photos in a looong time, here is my inspiration picture:

the pigeon deflector and other such nonsense

2010-12-10T12:00:00.003+03:00

A season went by in a heartbeat.

Since my summer was less than ideal, upon my return to Kuwait I hit the ground running and ended up with shin splints. I was running on empty, you see. Being promoted to Language Arts Head of Department has its advantages, but the workload is staggering. On top of that, I am now also on the committee in charge of our school's curriculum. Needless to say, I am getting a lot of practice treading water.

I realize that I'm not the only one whose life is overwhelmingly busy, and I really do feel guilty about not staying in touch with people as much as I used to, but please believe me when I say that I do miss you all - despite my falling off the face of the planet. It's just that on the rare occasions when I do have some time to myself, I would rather not look at a computer screen.

Now, before you start reminding me of the importance of rest and relaxation, I must mention that I do make an effort to sleep at least 6 hours per night, and that I'm out on the Wanderer at least half a day every weekend. It's my mental clarity and I won't give it up, no matter how many papers are screaming to be marked.

Classes are going well, as is the new novel. I find my mind cluttered with ideas that miraculously manage to find their way to the paper (or the screen, rather) and I expect to have a working manuscript ready by the end of the school year. And no, Mumsy, you won't get to see it until it's complete - you'll understand why once you start reading it.

Let's see... what else? Oh, yes! The new apartment's renovation is going well. The master bedroom, guest bathroom, and kitchen are now finished, and I expect the office and living/dining room to be done by the end of January.

And on that note... remember how I was complaining about the pigeons here in Kuwait? Well, I stumbled across some miniature plastic cones (you know, the orange safety ones) in a local shop, and an idea struck me. Why not use them to make the pigeons' landing strips unusable? A length of twine and some creative positioning later, and voila! Pigeon deflectors. They work like a charm - I have now been pigeon-free for one whole week and this morning's lie-in was positively delicious.

Before I sign off, I should probably warn you that I'm only home for one more week - I'm heading to Kenya for winter break and don't expect to have internet access. Half the time I will be on the coast, where I hope to get a chance to go cage-diving with great white sharks; the rest of the time I will be inland on safari. I promise to take pictures. I also promise to take better care of my camera's memory card. You know what I'm talking about.

dude, where are my pants?

2010-08-20T22:31:00.003+03:00

As you may have noticed, my blog has a fresh new look. And I can only hope that every single one of my readers happened to stop by after the face lift was complete. Because unlike many bloggers who work out the bugs in offline mode, I edit my blog online with the native Blogger editor, which means that my blog is still visible (in all its incomplete or glitchy glory) throughout the revamping process. And to be honest, it feels a bit like being caught with one's pants down - for a whole day or two!

Oh, my... How embarrassing.

CSI... sort of

2010-08-18T14:54:00.002+03:00

Rats! Rats, rats, rats.

I'm finally back in Canadia and zen enough to type this without chucking my laptop out the window in sheer frustration.

My backpack was searched while going through airport security. They 'carefully' pulled out my collection of tech toys, my shawl, my books and journal, and Monster (my neck pillow). They even poked through the plastic bag in which I keep my cables, adapters, and memory cards - you know, the small stuff that can easily get lost.

When I arrived in Europe, my journal, an adapter, and my bundle of SD cards were gone. I guess the less-than-competent security officer failed to put everything back in my backpack. The adapter is replaceable. My journal and the SD cards (one of which had my British Isles pictures on it) are not replaceable.

Needless to say, I was upset. "May the fleas of a thousand camels..." upset. And the rest of the trip was not any better for a myriad of demented reasons I don't feel like getting into. Therefore, I'm still upset.

So if I continue to fly under the radar, I apologize. I only have about two weeks left to catch up on a boatload of work before returning to Kuwait, and that work, I'm afraid, has priority over almost everything else.

Once life slows down a tad, I will try to reconstruct my lost journal - memory forensics, if you will. And with any luck, I will be able to get copies of my lost pictures from one of my fellow travellers (we swapped SD cards at the end of our trip). *fingers crossed*

In the meantime, I just want to wish my friend Kaeleigh good luck with her new life. On Monday, Kaeleigh moved to England to teach music for two years, so if you want to follow her adventures, just visit her blog.

a wee update

2010-07-06T00:50:00.002+03:00

Being a tease is not my style, so I apologize in advance for what I am about to do, but I just wanted to check in and let you all know that I'm still alive and kicking.

I have not and will not post about my British Isles adventure until I sift through my pictures. I did keep a journal while travelling, but it needs to be transcribed, so once I get my poop in a group in terms of photos, I will post about one day (or one leg) of my journey at a time. Granted, it might take a little while, as I am currently between adventures and only have two days to unpack, launder, and repack before flying off again.

So until then, laters gators.

up in smoke

2010-06-08T20:43:00.002+03:00

Last night was AWESOME.

Our sailing club had its farewell (practically everyone leaves Kuwait during the summer) social at the yacht club, and it was seriously fun.

Freshly made Arabic food, cool drinks, and fabulous company kept us there until well into the night. After all, who wants to go home when you can knock back delicious screwdrivers made with freshly squeezed orange juice and... well, let's just say that living in a dry country doesn't mean that one goes through life parched.

And the shisha... wow! The Egyptian apple flavoured one I smoked last night was divine, and the fact that it was accompanied by some seriously contagious laughs sure didn't hurt either.

By the time I got home, I was that sweet combination of exhausted and ridiculously relaxed. As a result, I had, hands down, the best sleep I've had in... oh... probably a year.

Long live my social life!

a wondrous sight

2010-06-05T16:22:00.002+03:00

We took Wanderer out yesterday morning, setting sail early, so as to avoid the intolerable midday heat. It was a beautiful day, albeit lacking in strong winds, and we did not expect anything out of the ordinary. How wrong we were.

About halfway through our sail, to our great surprise, we were joined by a pod of dolphins. While dolphin sightings are not unheard of in the Arabian Gulf, they are certainly not common. The dolphins spent a good hour or so frolicking near our boat. Their glossy bodies reflected the sun's rays as they surfaced, and glided, and splashed in the warm waves. I so wish I had had my camera with me to capture the carefree antics of our playful companions. Finally, after one too many friendly visits from the coastguard and pipeline-security power boats, the pod decided to scamper off, and with clicks and whistles they vanished into the deep.

Had my BlackBerry battery not died in the night, causing me to sleep in this morning and miss a jet skiing date with a group of friends, this weekend would have been perfection. Alas, c'est la vie.

Q8

2010-06-02T08:29:00.011+03:00

These days, spring cleaning includes my many hard drives. Am I not modern?

Anyway - I set aside 25 of my favorite pictures of Kuwait. Some are untouched (perhaps just cropped), while others are obviously the products of fun with Photoshop (primarily the filters). Either way, I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

EDIT: Sorry guys, I should have clarified in order to avoid any confusion. These aren't my pictures (i.e., taken by yours truly) - they're pictures that I either came across or that were sent to me by friends since moving to Kuwait. They just happen to be cluttering my hard drives, and I just happen to love them. So hold off on the accolades. I don't deserve them. I promise to tackle my camera's memory cards and post some of my own photos soon(ish), though.

it's all about the little things

2010-05-31T22:11:00.002+03:00

I love that I live with someone who instead of keeping a safe distance while I battle the flu from hell, wants to keep me company and make me comfort food instead. That just says so much about a person.

spaghetti

2010-05-29T07:43:00.004+03:00

This post has nothing to do with pasta. Instead, I will try to give you a blow-by-blow account of my alien abduction. Just kidding. I'll save that for another post.

No, the fact is that as usual, I got caught up in the whirlwind of school, and sailing, and writing (my novel, not this blog - OBVIOUSLY), and in the process managed to neglect my little corner of blogville, and that one armchair in my living room where I have a tendency to just toss all the stuff I plan on getting to later. When the pile of crap on the armchair finally avalanched this morning - with a spectacular crashing sound, I might add - I knew it was about bloody time I posted something.

So let's see... I'm sitting on my couch, listening to the Robin Hood score, which I consider to be pure awesomeness - much like the film itself. If I had to pick one director whose work I consistently love, Ridley Scott would be that director. If I could cheat and toss in the director's brother, then Tony Scott would be up there as well. And need I say how mindblowing the Scott-Crowe combination is? Yeah, I didn't think so.

School has been fine - very busy near the end (yes, I'm already done - go ahead and be jealous). I am proud to say that my final exam this year has made several kids cry. That's right. I'm that kind of teacher. I'm now just tying up loose ends, preparing my classroom for next year (yep, I'm coming back to Kuwait for a third year), watching movies on the huge projection screen in my classroom... you know, the kind of thing teachers do at the end of the school year.

Sailing is amazing, but physically gruelling now that temperatures have finally spiked. Spending an average of six hours on the water trying to harness Kuwait's fickle winds in temperatures reminiscent of a blast furnace is, quite literally, nauseating. I will miss the Wanderer over the summer, but not the temperatures.

I still can't believe that in less than three weeks, my friends and I will be gallivanting around the UK and Ireland. We all really, really look forward to rain, and pints of icy cold beer, and rowdy boys cheering for the World Cup. Kirsten and I are particularly stoked since we're both history buffs with a penchant for all things Roman - the mere prospect of standing by a section of Hadrian's Wall gives us the vapours.

In preparation for a summer of cool, light travel, I'm having my tailor make me linen capris and silk tank tops in various colors - they pack small, and I can mix and match to my heart's content.

And when I say summer, I mean it - if that damn volcano in Iceland doesn't threaten to (or actually) burp again, then I'll be spending July and August on the continent with friends and family. If, however, we decide to play it safe, I'm either going to do a sailing certification course with Kirsten at the local yacht club and chill with the family units, or I might pop over to Hawaii for a week or two to hang ten with Anita.

Well, that's all I can think of for now. I'm off to raid my Hayao Miyazaki collection and pretend that it's not one hundred billion degrees outside.

"Invictus"

2010-04-03T11:19:00.003+03:00

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

~William Ernest Henley~

a letter to my future husband

2010-03-24T15:29:00.009+03:00

Dear Sir,

Should you ever charm me into accepting a proposal of marriage, I would like you to note the following: traditional wedding jewelery is not my cup of tea.

As you will have undoubtedly noticed, I tend to hurt myself in the most surprising ways, so please do not burden me with a sparkly jagged rock. Not that I am averse to the sparkly bit... oooh... shiny...

Below please find descriptions and photographs of what I would consider an ideal ball and chain.

You may test the waters of matrimony by presenting me with a Dior Mimioui diamond ring in yellow gold.

And upon taking the plunge, you may adorn my finger with a Martin Katz diamond micro band in yellow gold.

Are you writing this down?

Love,
C

this is not good

2010-03-21T21:50:00.004+03:00

Rats! I just woke up. And in case you haven't checked this post's time stamp, yes, it is late evening - to be more precise, it is almost my bedtime.

I napped after school (my second semester kids wrote their midterm exam today, which exhausted me); I went out to dinner with Anita, where we giggled at the discombobulated server; and then when I came home, I took a hot shower to ease the pain in my black and blue body and crawled under the covers just long enough to get warm again. And that, apparently, is when I dozed off.

If you were at all alarmed by the "black and blue" comment, let me clarify. On Friday I went sailing in a dust storm again. In theory the 18 to 20 knot winds should not have been a problem for our yacht, the Wanderer, but the wind kept shifting, which resulted in relatively huge rolling waves. This, of course, made raising and dropping sail a bit precarious (Sean nearly went overboard), and at one point our boat's starboard safety rail actually dipped into the water. Luckily, we didn't capsize, but in the process of trying to help keep us afloat, I got tossed about and banged up pretty spectacularly.

Now, before you call me crazy, I should point out that this type of situation is normally avoided by running the boat's main engine while preparing the sails. Unfortunately, our engine is in need of a new part, which is still in the process of being custom made in the UK. This means that we must rely on our dinky and unreliable outboard motor. On a normal day, it's up to the task, but when large waves are involved, the motor dips in and out of the water nonstop, which not only deprives the boat of propulsion, but also frequently causes the motor to stall.

OK. In a desperate attempt to get a (somewhat) good night's sleep, I will now take two Gravol pills and dance around my apartment, singing at the top of my lungs, until I am tired enough to hit the sack again. G'night, y'all!

SHIT

2010-03-11T23:04:00.000+03:00

So happy it's Thursday.

So happy that only two-weeks' worth of other people's posts have accumulated while my blog remains resolutely silent.

So happy that the bloody misery our bloody school has put us through during this past bloody year is finally over, sans a single bloody member of the visiting accreditation team asking to see my bloody curriculum binder.

So happy that my poor friend was released from the psychiatric ward two weeks early, with a bag full of drugs and without so much as a single counselling session.

So happy that this is all over because I was finally able to decompress. I was able to enjoy the look of shock on Kristen's face when she realized that we were taking her to Maki (the best sushi restaurant in Kuwait) for her birthday, and not to Burger King. And then I was able to enjoy the new Alice in Wonderland movie with her and all of our friends, despite the three Kuwaiti girls sitting in our row, who just WOULDN'T - SHUT - UP. Haven't seen the film yet? Go see it. Especially if you love the book and want to 'revisit' the story.

And tomorrow, despite (I'm pretty sure this will happen) waking up sick (my tonsils are the size of golf balls and I've been non-allergy sneezing a lot this evening), I will enjoy my reheated lasagna and icy orange juice as I catch up on my various TV shows. Because ~~marking can wait~~ I'm worth it.

like a donkey in the fog, or how I look like Jessica Biel

2010-02-24T15:38:00.009+03:00

The first half of this post's title is an approximate translation of a Romanian expression that cracks me up. It is particularly relevant right now because approximately 48 hours ago Kuwait vanished under a thick layer of Iraqi sand. It tried raining a bit this morning, but after spitting mud for a few minutes, even the sky gave up.

Naively, I nurtured the hope that our school would close in light of the non-existent air quality. I was hoping that poor visibility in the hallways and classrooms, combined with a general atmosphere of toxicity, would compel the powers that be to call off classes. Alas, it was business as usual, both yesterday and today, despite everyone coughing spasmodically after every breath. Imagine fog. Now imagine fine sand instead of water vapour. Now imagine inhaling that all day long. Welcome to Kuwait.

To add insult to injury, the festivities planned for this afternoon (Kuwait is celebrating a couple of important anniversaries this weekend) were held in the gym. Our school's gyms are outdoors. The school didn't cancel the event or move it to the indoors auditorium. So I flat out refused to chaperone and went back up to my classroom, where I proceeded to keep my burning throat from desiccating by drinking my way through a gallon bottle of orange juice mixed with water. Good times. I'll be peeing a lot this afternoon.

On the lighter side of things, a couple of days ago, in a fit of boredom and inspired by Kaeleigh's Facebook antics, I tried a couple of those online face-recognition programs that claim to find your celebrity 'twin'. And guess who mine is? The fabulous Jessica Biel.

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I wish!

I sure as hell can't see the resemblance. But maybe you could, if you were to look at me from a distance, and you were on a donkey, and you were surrounded by fog or Iraqi sand, and you were squinting.

lapidation

2010-02-21T08:23:00.005+03:00

'Lapidation' is a fancy name for the practice of stoning someone to death.

Since my mom has bronchitis and has been ordered to rest (by a doctor!), yesterday was a bit of a movie day for us. As we were going through my extensive collection of movies (close to a 1000 favorites, at this point, not counting seasons of TV shows), we spotted The Stoning of Soraya M., which I hadn't watched yet.

The movie is based on a book by French-Iranian journalist Freidoune Sahebjam; the book is, in turn, based on a true story. I, of course, knew the premise of the movie, knew that the movie had premiered and been very well received at my beloved Toronto International Film Festival, and also knew that my mom is just as big a fan of the lovely and talented Shohreh Aghdashloo (and James Caviezel) as I am.

Ironically, I'm teaching Shirley Jackson's short story "The Lottery" as we speak (not literally, of course - at this very moment I'm typing without actually speaking to anyone). In case you fail to see the connection, "The Lottery" is also about a stoning.

The movie was remarkably good, in every respect, but I will be the first to admit that the stoning scene was extremely difficult to watch. I suppose that like 2004's The Passion of the Christ, The Stoning of Soraya M. was able to finally put a believable and moving visual to what had previously been mere words on a page. That's because the practice of stoning (which I won't educate you on in this post - feel free to Google it for yourself, if you should so desire) appears quite frequently in a number of ancient texts belonging to most of the world's major religions.

But I digress.

After the movie ended, my mom and I sat in stunned silence for a while, ruminating on what we had just seen, and then my mom expressed her shocked, outraged disbelief that people could actually practice stoning in today's day and age. She couldn't fathom how a person could subject another person to something so utterly barbaric. Sadly, I could, because I understand that human nature is - barbarically, or even primitively, perhaps - still very much prone to succumbing to mob mentality. Despite protests to the contrary, despite claiming to be 'civilized', the average person can be incited to violence by a group of his or her peers.

And that's the crux of the problem when it comes to practices such as stoning: people's moral or ethical boundaries shift and fade when in a group. A group enables a person to engage in otherwise unthinkable acts. When operating as part of a group - especially a group consisting of one's peers, or fellow community members - it is relatively easy to stop thinking for one's self and just go with the mindless flow of 'righteous' anger and violence. A group provides anonymity and with anonymity comes a false sense of immunity: personal responsibility and accountability for one's actions are diluted, dissolved, and eventually disappear altogether in the solvent that is an angry mob.

So, dear readers, what do you think about this?

Mans of our Lives

2010-02-19T07:45:00.004+03:00

It strikes me, every once in a while, that since moving to Kuwait I have 'collected' a number of men. Think about that for a moment. *grins wickedly*

My life runs more smoothly thanks to:

Photocopy Man
Juice Man
Shawarma Man
Door Man
Taxi Man
Internet Man

I could name a few more, but you get the picture.

All of these men have names (duh!), but for some strange reason, my neighbors/colleagues/friends and I always refer to them by their titles - or at least append the titles to their names, the way Homer uses epithets in The Iliad. Only instead of "swift-footed Achilles", we end up with less elegant monikers such as 'Thomas the Internet Man'.

* * *

P. S. I have come to the conclusion that while I love commenting on other people's blogs, and adore having other people comment on my blog, my comment policy will change effective immediately.

I will only comment on another writer's post if I feel inspired to do so, thereby eliminating that dreaded sense of obligation to comment on everything I read. Similarly, I will only respond to another writer's comment about one of my posts if the said comment requires a reply (i.e., is a question requiring an answer, or otherwise inspires me to 'say' something back).