There is one reason I'm JUST NOT LOSING WEIGHT, no matter how hard and how often I work out. Well, I lie. There's more than one reason. But here's one: Best part? It's really shitty cappuccino. Totally not even worth it. Good-bye Crusty coffee. Speaking of coffee, you know how it's nearly impossible to take pictures in public here in Jeddah? And then you know how there are these men-only cafes with nice al fresco seating? So the other day, I was feeling ballsy so I told my brother to drive up to this one cafe near work, stop the car while I take out my camera and my zoom lens, look one of the patrons in the eye, and just shoot him. I instructed my brother to quickly QUICKLY drive away, just like in the movies, as soon as I get my shot. I'm such a daredevil, aren't I. Here's that shot. Yup. Not worth it either. The funny thing, if I had taken a good photo to show off here, was that this guy (the white blur in the middle) saw me shooting him with m...
A touch of drama, dahlings. Heartbreak . 1. Denial. It's not happening. 2. Anger. It's not fair. 3. Bargaining. What do you want me to do? I'll do it. 4. Depression. I give up. Nothing's working. 5. Acceptance. Some things just Are. 6. Starting over. 7. Moving On. Which one's your favorite?
It's never easy when parents die. For obvious reasons. They are the people closest to you; they know everything about you, and their love is unconditional. It's a big loss. There goes your comfort zone. Your safety net. Your Plan B. In our culture, being an "ulila", an "orphan", is something that all children are warned about. "Take care of your parents, because if you don't, you will lose them, and when you lose them, everyone will walk all over you." Parents protect you. It's even harder when your parents are dying. To witness their pain. To be helpless. To want to protect them in return and yet be unable to. My condolences to anyone and everyone who has lost a parent. Especially to those who are far from their parents, who have no means of closing that gap and paying their last respects to the people who raised them. My condolences to my brother Z, who was raised by my grandmother, who is devastated by this feeling of helplessness. My co...
Dear Future Me, 10 weeks from now, you will want to tell the story of how that epic squash game went, and how it all started. Here's the story. I got a message from my friend Abdallah about 2 weeks back. Abdallah: "I heard you wanted to get your ass kicked at squash." Me: "No, I'LL kick YOUR ass at squash." Abdallah: "2,000 Riyals says you lose." Me: "Wait, I just started playing squash. I need to train. Give me 4 weeks." Abdallah: "Take 10 weeks." Me: "......" Now, I don't have 2,000 Riyals. But I am addicted to gambling and taking bets. Remember that bet with Sheri a year ago to lose weight in 11 weeks for a thousand Riyals? The one I lost? Also, remember how I'm relatively new to squash? But who cares about that, hey? I WIN. I HAVE TIGER BLOOD. If I visualize myself winning, I'VE ALREADY WON. So today, I gave Abdallah my response. "When I win, you tattoo my full name across your arm...
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