Monthly Archives: March 2009

Ignorance is bliss. Or is it?

So I figured the best way to tackle a problem is head-on, you know? Just take the first step, and you’ll gain enough momentum to make the whole nine yards. So that’s studying, which has not been going well. Other than my exam marks: 91 on that Research subject and 99 on Statistics. Am I on fire or what? 

Anyway, in my social psych textbook there was this:

Tobacco Warning: ImpotentAnd it reminded me of when I used to work at Mac’s convenience store, and I’d be passing a pack with this warning to some guy. It always made me laugh when they’d shudder and be “Dude, not that pack!!” like I’d screwed up. Like just because it was out of sight out of mind and they could avoid the ugly truth.

Makes me wonder why we insist on lying to ourselves about the obvious. How much of our selves is the honest to God truth and how much is the smoke screens we throw up so we won’t have to confront that truth? 

I know a lot of people who believe ignorance is bliss. Why know about all the gruesome stuff out there if you can’t change it? Like the monster in the closet. So long as you don’t open it, you can’t deny it. But you can’t confirm it either. Ignorance is bliss. Or is it?

I believe I’d rather know. Just because I can turn a blind and go back to my ordinary and blessed life, doesn’t mean life doesn’t go on for countless people out there. And it ain’t pretty.

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Filed under Canada, Psychology, Reflections

Shut your eyes and think of somewhere, somewhere cold and caked in snow

Shut your eyes and think of somewhere
Somewhere cold and caked in snow
By the fire we break the quiet
Learn to wear each other well

And when the worrying starts to hurt
and the world feels like graves of dirt
Just close your eyes until
you can imagine this place, yeah, our secret space at will

Shut your eyes, I spin the big chair
And you’ll feel dizzy, light, and free
And falling gently on the cushion
You can come and sing to me

And when the worrying starts to hurt
and the world feels like graves of dirt
Just close your eyes until
you can imagine this place, yeah, our secret space at will

Shut your eyes

Shut your eyes and sing to me (Shut your eyes and sing to me) 

calgary skyline

this song reminds me of home =)

i love canadian winters. i love snow, and coziness, and fireplaces, and steamy breath, and even frozen fingers and toes, and cracking thin ice, and sucking on icicles, and leaving perfect footprints in fresh snow. 

as edward once said to bella “you’re my type or heroin” (or something like that.. what a loser. i always liked Jacob better. now thats what i’m talkin about!) but anyway, this song is my kinda heroin. lovee it ❤

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Filed under Canada, Lyrics

SOL: Screaming Out Loud

A few, short months after the Gazan Massacre of 2008 – 2009, and apparently the Israeli Army morale is flagging. So what better way to get the boys’ spirits back in shape than with a few imaginative T-shirts?
I feel sick. Like I’m about to hurl my dinner all over my keyboard – sorry for the visual. What kind of sick minds come up with shit like this? Takes ‘heartless’ to a whole new level…
But where is the outrage? Or, at least, the shocked looks? The head-shaking, the continued breeding and strengthening of stereotypes, the reactions?? Or do those reactions only apply when some bearded fool is screaming “death to infidels!!” while brandishing his fist in some shady clip, the origins of which are obscure at best?
Sickening. Ladies and gents, the results of the creative minds of the IDF’s finest:

The smaller, the harder

Better use Durex

Better use Durex

15245916

1 Shot 2 Kills

And the worst part? It’s a cycle with no end in sight. Tit for tat. This is the youth of Israel. Hate and racism that know no bounds. And no doubt the youth of Palestine mirror the sentiment. Tit for freaking tat.

Disgusting world we live in, no?

So like I said:

SOL

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Filed under Head-Bangers, Ignorance, Islamophobia, Israel, News, Palestine, Rant

I lost my place but I can’t stop this story

So I’ve gone off on a sabbatical of sorts.. but, I guess since I’m Muslim, it’d be like a khelwah? Only without the spiritual enlightenment and ascending of spirit and descending of peace and grace. No, it was really closer to me wallowing in self-pity. You know Jim Carey’s How the Grinch Stole Christmas?

“4:00, wallow in self pity; 4:30, stare into the abyss; 5:00, solve world hunger – tell no one; 5:30, jazzercize; 6:30, dinner with me – I can’t cancel that again; 7:00, wrestle with my self-loathing… I’m booked. Of course, if I bump the loathing to 9, I could still be done in time to lay in bed, stare at the ceiling and slip slowly into madness. But what would I wear?”

Yeah. It wasn’t pretty. Or it was. Pretty pathetic, that is.

Buttt it’s over! And I can now open this blog again without feeling the urge to pound out some seriously monotonous and depressing “why me” drivel.

Instead, I come bearing news! After two and a half – actually, it’s two years and eight months, but hey, who’s counting? – years I’m finally moving back!! Plans are for either mid May or June, but either way I’m out before summer starts. 

You’d think after two years and eight months of constantly searching for that silver lining – and sometimes resorting to making it up – I’d be ecstatic. Well, I am and I’m not. I think this sums it up best:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I–
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Maybe I should pull a Yogi Bear – when you come to a fork in the road, take it – and accept whatever happens as what is meant to happen and not look back and wonder. But I’m already missing Syria. In fact, while my brothers are going around playing our traditional traveling game – what’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get there? – I’m always asking everyone what they’re going to miss most. So far, no one voluntarily admits to missing anything, although I’ve gotten three to concede that they’ll miss the convenience of having a mosque around every corner, but my list is pretty long. Lol. Maybe I’ll post it up when I’m done =)

Oh, and funny thing happened. My answer to my brother’s question was “Subway – EAT FRESH.” And then yesterday, I went to a new mall – which, considering there’s like ONE mall in Damascus, you’d think they’d endeavor to build the new one pretty much no where near the preexisting mall. Well it isn’t. There’s about 10 meters – if that – between the two malls – in Damascus –Damasquino – and I was going solely for Second Cup when my friend’s student let her know they’d opened up a Subway! The real deal!! Holy crap, eh? It wasn’t exactly the same since they didn’t have my regular Sweet Onion Chicken Teriyaki or BBQ sauce but the Teriyaki Chicken was pretty good and instead of my cookie I got Lays chips =( AND the cute guy who used to work at MY subway wasn’t there (and I really hadn’t realized till now that I’d sorta integrated him into my Subway experience, but there he is! And yo, it’s completely beyond my control. He’s made my sandwiches at not one, not two, but THREE different Subways. This guy knows my sandwich. And unless Subway is cloning this one cute guy to attract customers like hmm… me? he has every right to be an essential – and much missed – part of my Subway experience! So there). But subway followed by a butter pecan latte at Second Cup, whilst playing Sudoku? It was the closest I’d expected to get this side of the ocean. 

So now my second choice has been bumped to number one: Timmie’s here I come! XL black coffee  and a cinnamon and raisin bagel, lightly toasted, with cream cheese. *drool*

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Filed under Canada, Cultural Observations, Food, islam, Only in Syria, Personal, Poetry, Syria