STORIES, STORIES

Doing this whole positive-thinking attitude thing has drained me almost completely in the past few months. Constantly looking at the brighter side of things, cheering people up (including myself) when everything's just being a complete tool, staying out of the way of drama, and maintaining some fake anterior (for whom, who knows), all of this, is a recipe for a clown's downfall.  Clowns are almost always suicidal. I'm beginning to understand why. Needless to say, I've come to a point where screeching halts are major understatements. It's been a while since I last slammed the door shut on this whole blogging affair; those breakdowns I get when I feel I'm sharing too much while at the same time not enough people are listening to or reading me, when I think that the only way I can yell "OH HEY, FUCKING LOOK AT ME AND ASK ME SOME QUESTIONS, WHY DON'T YOU?" is by passive-aggressively shutting down the blog.  What is this compulsive need for validatio...

Bufala is the name of my future second child. Of course it goes without saying that my future first-born will be named Ubuntu. But I digress.  Bufala is also yummeh. Another one for our Shit We Ate series. This is a dish from Margherita which is called Something Something Bufala. I recommend it. And now, here's an episode from That Jeddah Podcast, which you should listen to just to get a hint of what I sound like when I speak British. CLICK HERE NAO .

Here is an example of a marriage between polar opposites (whip cream with chocolate syrup and tea). Like all relationships of this kind, it is nothing short of amazing. And like, unhealthy, but whatever.

When junk food needs to pay off college fees.

I dunno, but Selectoin sounds a bit nasty to me. No? I maintain a steady relationship with Ghaidaa's laptop.

I'm loving this scent. It smells of make-up and beautiful dresses and jazz. 

Clearly, my mirror needs some cleaning. I've just noticed how a lot of my photos from my 365 photo-project (including my profile picture here) have been blocked in Saudi. WHAT THE HELL, ASSHOLES?

The thing about living in Jeddah, among other things about living in Jeddah, is that one day, there is absolutely fuck-all happening, and then the very next day, EVERYTHING HAPPENS ALL AT ONCE. Happenings, Y U NO spread out throughout the week? So yeah, first off, a new episode on the J-Pizzod (fine, That Jeddah Podcast, coz there is no way that nickname is gonna stick because it is neither cool nor gangsta, contrary to my belief system of what is cool or gangsta). Check it out HERE .  While at the studio (yes, we are legit!), we monkeyed about with Diya 's musical instruments, because they asked for it. This is a Turkish guitar thingie.  After the recording, I went to try and deface a friend's house, presumably to housewarm it. I failed in that area, of course, because I rule Faildom. I instead took mild, non-invasive photos. Michael's pictures rock so much harder . Then there was Ameer's birthday party, where I played Pictionary with a bunch of boys and disc...

Some tips on how to change your lifestyle and become the healthy person you deserve to be: 1) Go to the gym. Of course this means managing your time, so if you work all day and go to the gym after work, don't forget to pack your gym bag. 2) If you must eat at a restaurant with fatty food stuffs (and you know you must), eat guacamole. Live.

Right and Left Because teachers would do anything to get a point across.

I work 12-hour days, and then change into my gym clothes at the office with the glass door. LIKE A BOSS.

More proof that Matt Smith's Doctor Who is MY doctor: our story arcs are intricately interwoven . In most dramatic fashion. Here is the crack on my bedroom wall, possibly caused by a time explosion around March 2011, that will spur a series of events so strange and so devastating to the skin of my universe that it comes full circle and nobody will even notice. In short: MADNESS. -- This is my 200th post. Stay with me and Sharifa as we soldier on to a hundred fifty something more days.

This is my desk at work.  Truth: those files aren't mine. -- Sharing memes with my boss. Appreciate this by clicking here .

Last week, I was preparing for this boat trip by practicing jumping into the water . I never acquired the balls needed to do that in the middle of nowhere at sea, needless to say. Instead, I had Fahad to one side of me, and Summer to the other, dragging me kicking and screaming and legs all jell-o into that deep dark abyss that is called OMG I'M GONNA DIE. In the words of basically everyone who watched me make a scene while everybody else was diving in and doing all kinds of 7arakaat while jumping into the water from the top of the boat, "WHY AM I SUCH A FUCKING PUSSY?" Rhetorical question, of course. A little background: I just learned how to swim a few years ago. Nevertheless, fun was had by all, including myself, what with good company and awesome tan lines and all that. Here are pictures.  -- I didn't know one of the crew guys was Filipino until I saw the flag on his sleeves. -- Amir and the party raging in his head. -- Divers -- At one point, someone y...

Squeek and I are comrades, no matter what he might say otherwise. He has no choice in the matter. -- You'll find post-it notes everywhere in my room, thanks to my below average memory.

Ruby Tuesday's is synonymous to Gym. That is all. Speaking of the gym, I've been out the past month thanks to my knee injury, but I'm back, and I'm not in so much pain anymore. And now, there will be a lot of weight loss going on. (*insert guffaws here*) -- My new abaya. Brand name: Alone. Because I need to be reminded that I will be FOREVERALONE . (Sara Grace took this picture) I haven't owned a colored abaya in so long that I feel embarrassed going out in this. My friends say it reminds them of a leather jacket, in which case I am totally Fonzie . -- And then I took a picture of Sharifa 's hand.

I can't stand Krispy Kremes. They're too sweet they give me headaches. Like a really annoying person with a fake smile and fake stories. You know? Every time I start to read this little promise on the box, I think: "Oh, shutthefuckup." -- In other news, pretty bracelet thingies. -- ... and Smoking Room trivia. (Too big or too small?)

Is it just me, or does this not smack so much of Jeddah? -- I have finally fixed my sleep. Well, it's a Wednesday night (technically Thursday morning), so of course right now is exempt. But who cares, when I win again? AGAIN. So anyway, I'm about to share another wisdom with you. Hold on to your pants. If ever there's something you DON'T WANT TO HAVE, here's what you do: WANT IT BADLY. And you will never have it. That is all.

I still read. I've lost all that zeal I started out with: my 50-book challenge , my Kindle fund , my note-taking, my review-writing, all of that. None of that anymore. Relationships always turn sour. Yes, one must soldier on, despite all the horrid days. But it is never, ever worth it. Yet, I still read.

The worst part of work - writing a gazillion reports - is over. That's something to be thankful for.  I have this belief that people get paid to do the worst part of their jobs, the part they hate the most. If it's worth the pay, then there's nothing to complain about. Maybe. Summer, be over.

There's a whole set-up to taking pictures in public. But the most important thing is to make sure no other customer, specifically female ones, is in the shot. Oh, and it helps when you smack of being non-Saudi. I can't keep up with this 365 project. I'm way past my bedtime, I have some Japanese song playing on my wonderfully dystopic speakers, and I've got reports that need procrastinating. But if there's one thing that this project has drummed into my insufficient little brain, it's that a good, calming habit isn't something you can easily let go of. As opposed to a filthy one. Wait.

Appropriately, Summer's birthday was celebrated at the beach. -- First one in, last one out the door . Important thing was we surprised Summer (who refuses to admit it) and she got what she wanted. Win. -- Here, the official drink of the day. Good-bye Zady . Maher's in town. :'( It was a nice day, it wasn't too hot, we didn't have to squint all that much, the beach crowd was mellow, and I didn't lose my beloved necklace (because I had already lost it on our last beach trip. -I sob here-). But the highlight of my day was trying to face my fear of jumping/diving into the water. I was so scared my legs were jelly, I was shaking, my hands and feet were ice-cold, and I was having a panic attack. My friends egging me on helped and didn't help at the same time. That's a new feeling: being completely afraid. The scariest part was just getting over the ledge. I feared so many things: slipping and hitting my head, drowning, not being able to breathe p...