The Totally Useless Blog Post
This is a totally useless and pointless post in nature (if it wasn’t in nature, where else would it be? – another useless question you might say). There is no moral to this post, there is no message. There is no purpose, there is no value. This is merely a construction of sentences to fill the void that has become. How does a post become pointless when it is filled with words and sentences? At least, the sentences make sense, but together they mean nothing. This is, as you have so kindly seen, a totally and utterly useless, meaningless, worthless, valueless, senseless, and insignificant blog post.
I wonder if the comments will be as pointless as this posts…
Hala February Carnival Aftermath
I haven’t been to the carnival neither have I seen how pretty it was. The only thing I saw was later that evening when we went to see Jumper at Al Fanar. We were shocked to see these scenes. The next day however, everything was very clean and tidy, but none the less. It was very dirty that night.
I only have one question. Did it really have to be that way?
What it means to be an Introvert in Kuwait
An introvert is a person who is energized by being alone, and drained by being with other people. Sometimes Introverts are thought of as being shy, although that may be true, that is not necessarily always the case. Being an introvert only means that you appreciate your alone time and chose to be alone to regain your energy and stabilize yourself before going to a group of people. Extroverts are the opposite: they are energized when they are with groups of people and their energy is drained when alone.
Poll Question: Are you an introvert or an extrovert? Please participate and vote on the right. Thank you!
Our culture in Kuwait is an extremely social culture due to the small size of the country and population. There is always someone who knows someone who knows someone who knows probably everyone. Families are also large, and some families are also very well connected because of family and marriage ties.
When we consider these facts, we realize that mostly no week goes by without some family occasion. These occasions are sometimes weekly, or appear suddenly; a cousin getting married, a baby being born, a nephew graduating, someone passes away, someone is sick, someone leaves the country, someone comes back from a trip, a celebration, an anniversary, and the list goes on.
I have noticed that introverts are mostly misunderstood. They prefer to be alone so the extroverts (and misinformed introverts) see them as anti-social. They criticize their behavior as wrong and that people should always interact with others when given the choice and should never turn down an invitation. To an extrovert, this may sound like heaven, but to an introvert, especially one who values his or her rejuvenation time would see this itself as energy-draining. Just the thought of meeting and talking to all those people for hours on end.. has got me out of energy to complete this post! *tehee*.
A person is usually born an introvert or an extrovert, it is not a choice. This has to be considered by parents who find their children behaving in that way. When a child chooses to not want to participate with other groups it does not mean the kid is being stubborn, generally at least. It is perfectly normal and being social is not about being around people, it is mostly about being connected to those people in some way or other.
Where would my Jacket be now?
A little more than 10 years ago I lost a jacket in Lebanon. I loved that jacket and it meant a lot to me since my Mother had bought it for me. I don’t know why I remembered it yesterday, but I was thinking about where my jacket is right now? What is its fate?
I am getting visual images of it, probably piled up with some other trash in a large area. If it has been disposed of in a landfill it is probably in the dark, or maybe being eaten by some sort of animal on the lower end of the food chain.
Maybe someone had found it, and has given it to a friend and is wearing it right this minute. It could be stowed away in a closet too, someplace foreign, distant.
It could be lost at sea, at the depths of the ocean collecting algae. Maybe floating around, from ocean to ocean, the blue and orange jacket.
Or maybe it got burnt somehow, in a trash can, a burning house, or even lit and discarded to disintegrate from this world.
It might have travelled, from city to city, and is now in a strange land with people who speak a much different language than we do. Where could my jacket be now? My blue and orange jacket?
Come to think of it, I have lost quite a few things, some are mostly forgotten. Others, where would they be now? What life would the be living and what fate would they be having?
I’m not sure why I’m feeling quite sentimental right now, but we all lose things, they do not simply disappear from existence, but they are out there, somewhere.
Chicken, A Tissue, and [No] Pictures
Why is it that nearly everywhere in Kuwait people have problems with pictures being taken! Is it only in Kuwait? I don’t believe there was a problem when I was in the U.S. or the U.K. We could take pictures in the mall, in the grocery, nearly anywhere we wanted. It seems people here have problems with pictures being taken.
We were at the cinema in Avenues and I was testing out my new camera in the beautiful colorful lights. The cinema employer came running to us and said, “No picture! No picture!” I wasn’t that surprised, but what was the problem? There was no one around, and I was taking pictures of my friends.
I figured they won’t stop me, so I took a few pictures anyway. They turned out a little blurry but I have to figure out why, I’m guessing since it was dark, the exposure was on auto and the picture came out fuzzy. Hmm, I need to mess around with it a bit.
The next morning was fun, I walked out to go to prayer, and I saw the chicken that have been running around in front of our house for so long. I was going to post about them a long time ago, but there was no chance because it just wouldn’t be worth it without any pictures. Without further ado, here are the chicken of our fereej* after the break.
Who am I?
I have always been one to ask this question. Who am I really? I know that with different people, I am a different person. I can’t be the same person with my friends, as I am with my family. I can’t be the same person with my relatives as I am with my coworkers. I am not totally different but since the audience change, the context changes as well.
If I was asked to define myself, then who would I be? The quiet person who only speaks when feels that it is utterly necessary? The loud goofy guy who loves to joke around with friends? Or the caring family member, who would do anything for his family? Maybe even a combination of all the above.
The way I see it, something here is always constant and never really changes: the change itself. I am am defined by my changes, how I change from being one person to another based on the context. The change is always or mostly all the same. The consideration for change is always there. The care not to step boundaries is there. There is also a sense of awareness of norms in the atmosphere that is always there and changes with context.
So, who am I? I am the essence of change that is me.
The Art of Miscommunication: The Key Card
I intend to make this heading a more common type of post. Occasionally I get a kick out of misunderstandings, ones that don’t involve any ill feelings or deep emotions. Here is an example of the AoM a while ago.
Me (to the guard): Salaaaam Alikom! [Peace be upon you!]
Guard: Alikom el salaaam. [Peace be upon you.]
I sign the sign in sheet and walk to the door to wait for guard to open the door since I have not yet been given an access key card.
Guard (giving me the key card): Khaleeeh 3andak. [Keep it with you.]
Me (Surprised): Oh..
I used the key card to open the door, and asked the guard.
Me (placing the card on the access box): Akhaleeh 3endi? Wela akhaleeh ehne? [Should I leave it with me? Or leave it here?]
Guard: Aywa, Khaleeh 3andak. [Yes, leave it with you.]
Me (taking the key card): Akhaleeh 3endi? [Shall I keep it with me?]
Guard: La, Khaleeh 3andak. [No, keep it there.]
Me: Ahaaa, Mashkoor. [Thank you.]
I placed the card above the access box. Now, if this wasn’t the simplest for of miscommunication then I don’t know what is! For those who do not understand the arabic version, I’ll explain. In the Egyptian dialect “khaleeh 3andak” can either mean “leave it there” or “leave it with you”.
Why I assumed he’d say keep it with you, I do not know. Maybe I felt he was being generous.
Oh and by the way, the access box is about 3 meters away from the guard’s desk. Just to give you all some perspective on the situation.
After forgetting a lot of the ideas I came up with for blog posts I started saving them in Notes on my mac. I usually use Notes when I check my mail and write note ideas. I opened up Mail yesterday to write a note but alas, my notes were gone! All my post ideas have disappeared. I searched, but to no avail, there was nothing.
Only later, did it hit me! If only there was a way to go back in time and retrieve this much valuable data! Yes! Then everything should be fine! I became obsessed… I needed to go back in time! I built my time machine, connecting wires and USB cables. I knew that I was getting close, but the machine would just not work!
After much research and calculation and many restless and sleepless nights, I found the solution! The PowerBook G4 does not supply enough USB power so I had to get an extension cable and hook up my external hard drive! I plugged in the cables, the whirring started! The lights flashed! I knew… I was ready to go back in time!
I entered the Time Machine and strapped on my seat belt. I warped to the past and there it was! My notes! All my precious posts! I grasped them tightly and said, “Take me back home, Time Machine!” There was I was, sitting in front of my PowerBook with my beloved notes that I thought I had lost forever.
Thank you Mac, for creating the wonderful Time Machine.