... and you're all invited!

What: Screening of When The People Spoke II, by Amer Al-Zuhair

When: Tuesday and Wednesday, March 27 & 28
* Film to begin at 8pm sharp
(please give yourselves ample time to arrive to location)

Where: Sabhan
(see map)

(click for larger view)

Take Airport Road heading towards the airport, and make an exit at SABHAN EXIT.

Take the SOUTH SABHAN entrance.

Take ROAD #51 all the way past the FIRST TRAFFIC LIGHT.

Take the FIRST U-TURN and then the FIRST STREET ON YOUR RIGHT.

Make the SECOND RIGHT.

The place is about 150 meters on your right hand side.
(if these directions are wrong or don't make sense, blame this guy).

Bring a friend or two or eight. Looking forward to seeing you there :)
N.
"Dad is someone I look up to, no matter how tall I've gotten."

The headache of friendship

Sometimes I worry my expectations when it comes to friendship are too high. I demand a lot from my friends, but I give back exactly as I get. Loyalty is extremely important to me, as is honesty. When those two are removed from the equation, then the friendship is just not a friendship to me any longer.

Betrayal sucks. What sucks even more than that is when the other party doesn't seem to acknowledge the betrayal; when the other party seems to take your friendship and step on it without so much as a second thought.

I feel like a child with all the thoughts running through my head lately -- who sits and wonders anymore whether or not their 'friends' are their 'real friends'? That's just ridiculous. I'm at a point in my life when my inner circle of friends should have long since been developed. When I no longer have to worry about losing my 'real friends' should we have an argument or disagree on something, or whatever. Petty stuff! I'm not a child anymore, and I would hope they felt the same.

It kills me that I could be so wrong.

I'm not saying I'm not partly to blame -- perhaps in the past, through several misunderstandings, I've done my fair share of being a bad friend. But I can say without a shadow of a doubt that if I ever did anything to hurt any of my dear friends, I did so without realizing, and once I realized, I did my best to amend the situation.

It sucks when the favor isn't repaid, especially by those you feel closest to. What makes it worse is the realization that perhaps these certain individuals don't really care -- it certainly doesn't appear to be that way, anyway. I'm agonizing over it; trying to figure out what the hell happened, when it all turned to crap... but these people are going about their daily lives without a care in the world. Was that how much you valued our friendship? Enough so that when things turn sour, you can turn your back and completely ignore the situation at hand?

I know enough to realize that sometimes these friendships aren't salvageable. Doesn't make it any easier. One of life's greatest disappointments, in my opinion, is the fact that those closest to you are also the ones that seem to hurt you the most.

N.
"Friends are those who treat you kindly behind your back."

Desperately Seeking a Nokia

Man, it's becoming more and more difficult to maintain this blog. I feel pressured (thanks mostly to my father -- "yalla, 3ad, malalteena. kitbay something.") and while I normally work best under pressure, this time it's just not happening.

I'm beginning to think there's nothing going on in my life worth writing about. Of course, as that thought crosses my mind, I begin to feel extremely sorry for myself. How can I not have a single thing to say to you people? I live a life of fun!

Really. I do.

For instance, last week, I went on a business trip -- to the Seychelles. Uh huh, that's right. Business in the Seychelles.

My job totally kicks your job's ass, huh?

Anyway, I spent about 4 or 5 days there, and man, what a trip. First of all, it was around 50 degrees. HOT. Very, very hot. It was also 100% humid. And the Seychelles' sun doesn't hang out in the sky; no siree. It sits on your shoulder and just chills there: "hey, what's up? I'm the sun and I'm gonna accompany you everywhere you go this trip. I'll also give you a nice reddish color for your nose and cheeks as a keepsake of your stay here. Don't freak out when it starts to peel. That just means it's working, baby."

Anyway, despite it being a business trip, I had a relaxing five days of much-needed chill time. And chill time it was! For starters, we visited 3 different islands -- the first of which was probably the size of Mishref. This island had nothing on it but one resort. Beautiful little villas, a beach to die for, the best massages ever --- and absolutely no phone service or internet connection.

...

Yeeeeah. You may think you want to be without your phone for a while. You know... for a little quiet relaxation without anyone getting a hold of you. I'm here to tell you: NOT TRUE.

Goddamn. After 24 hours without a phone, people start acting weird. I was glad no one could get a hold of me, but I really just wanted to send a message or something -- 'Hey, nice place! Having a blast, wish you were here.' But I couldn't. And the couldn't part was making me nuts. I want the CHOICE, people. Give me the CHOICE to use my phone or not.

I'm such a Kuwaiti.

But I wasn't as bad as this one dude I was with. He was really having a hard time accepting the fact that we didn't have phones. I think he threatened to leave no less than 30 times. By day 2, he'd gone apeshit; talking to the trees, taking 8 hour long showers to make up for time he wasn't spending on his phone. I would have been worried, but he was from another newspaper -- one of our competitors -- so all I thought to do was point and laugh.

We eventually left that island and made our way back to the main island (Mahe), where phone service and the like were available.

Going between the islands, we used both small planes and boats. Let me tell you something about small planes. Actually, let me tell you something about large planes first.

I'm not a fan. I don't like to fly. I spent half my life on airplanes and I'm still not used to them. I get nervous during take-off and landing, and the many, many hours in between as well. People pretend they don't know me during turbulence.

So anyway, these small planes we were taking? Yeeeeah. I was sitting next to the pilot, and he'd casually turn to me every so often trying to make conversation.

"So, you're from Kuwait, eh? Hot, right? Ha. Ha. Ha."

Uh, keep your eyes on the sky and we can talk all about where I'm from once you've safely landed this toy, thanksverymuch.

Wow, does it sound like I'm complaining about this trip? Because, honestly, I had a blast! It was fun and relaxing and a totally new experience -- I mostly spend my travels in cold, cool places where jackets and sweaters are required. But I had a really, really good time.

... hey, would you look at that? I posted!

Enjoy, dad.
N.

*maybe I'll post pictures?
"Go to an exotic island; eat the food, drink the water, lick a local."

...

I have nothing of value to say just yet.

I was just getting really sick of seeing the last post.

Tell me -- what's been your latest obsession?

N.

Snippets II

So I'm five days into 29, and so far, so good.
Except that I'm not married, I don't have my own home, my career is at somewhat of a standstill and I still haven't been to Australia. And next year's 30. Dizzamn.
- - - - -
All my life, I've hung out with people older than I am. I didn't get along well with kids my age, so my friends were always older. That all changed when I moved back here from college. Now, I'm among the oldest in my 'group' of friends. I don't mind it one bit -- in fact, sometimes I hardly notice it.
But then, of course, there are days I REALLY notice it. And it trips me out that I know people so young. That my schedule becomes extra busy between Dec. 9 - Jan. 13, when the college kids come back to visit. That there are people I know who were in the single-digits when we were in the midst of 1990's Gulf War. Also dizzamn.
- - - - -
Facebook is so aggravatingly addictive.
- - - - -
My aunt and cousin have been staying with us since the New Year -- they're visiting from the US. This is my mom's sister and her daughter, and as most of you know, my mama isn't Kuwaiti; this is their first time in the country.
To be honest, I'm somewhat disappointed by their reaction to Kuwait. I was expecting them to be a little more 'wowed' by us, I think. Is that weird? I feel like if you're making your way to Kuwait for the very first time ever, your reaction to it should hold a little more 'oomph.'
I just wanted once to hear them say, "Whoa -- why all the Starbucks chains?" Or, "How random -- is Ruby Tuesdays really that big here?" Or maybe, "Haha, neat! Desperate Housewives on billboards!" Or even, "Daaamn, nice cars."
Again, is that weird? I don't think I would have expected Kuwait to be the way Kuwait is if I wasn't from here or living here.
They dug Mbarkiya, though.
- - - - -
Time for a vacation. London? :D
- - - - -
And finally, if Jack Handy married Andy Capp, then married Jack Paar, then moved on to Stephen King, he'd be Jack Handy Capp Paar King.

N.
"Whatever you may look like, marry a man your own age -- as your beauty fades, so will his eyesight."

Ouch.

N.
"We know we're getting old when the only thing we want for our birthday is not to be reminded of it."

Ho ho ho (heh)

Christmas used to be one of my favorite holidays when I was a child. Of course, growing up in the States had a lot to do with that. We always had the prettiest tree and the stuffiest... most stuffed.. erm, FULLEST stockings and the best presents ever. Mom and dad made sure to take care of that for us, and we'd celebrate Christmas not as a religious, spiritual, birth-of-Jesus-the-Christ day, but rather, a yay-we-get-toys day.

I don't know if we ever tried convincing my younger brothers that Santa was real, but I'm pretty sure that I never had the luxury of knowing the big jolly man in the red suit actually existed. Despite going to take pictures on his lap every Christmas at either Macys or JC Penny or whatever and whispering in his ear (creepy!) what we wanted that year while he got to decide whether we'd been naughty or nice (double creepy!), I knew he was fake. My parents never hid that from me.

I blame them for my cynicism.

Heh, in fact... they used to buy us presents and come home with bags and bags of goodies. We'd SEE them come back with the presents, right? Then they'd sneak into their room, gift wrap our gifts and put them under the tree with a note that read, "To BintBuNaz, from Santa."

?

Ahh, young parents.

Anyway, Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all y'all that celebrate it. Hope you stay safe, warm and slightly drunk.

For all of you that don't celebrate, then ... erm, yay for Mondays? I guess.

N.
"The Supreme Court has ruled that they cannot have a nativity scene in Washington, D.C. This wasn't for any religious reasons, but because they couldn't find three wise men and a virgin."

I need inspiration, people

New Years is right around the corner, and I still haven't the faintest idea what-how-who-where I'm going to be celebrating.

If I remember correctly, I always get really panicky the last week before the New Year, cause I feel like I have to end the year with style and start the new one with a bang.

And then I do, and it's the same shit, but a year later.

Maybe I've just gotten too old for New Years celebrations?

...

FORGET I SAID THAT. I AM NOT OLD, I AM NOT OLD, I AM NOT OLD.

Anyway, what are YOUR plans for ringing in 2007?

N.
"Youth is when you're allowed to stay up late on New Year's Eve. Middle age is when you're forced to."

The Devil Wears Pastels

Seriousy, has anyone else noticed that? Oprah's ALWAYS in pastels. Probably another reason I can't stand her. You can't ALWAYS wear pastels. In fact, you should never wear pastels.

ANYWAY.

Fantastic website The Beast recently (or not... this is from 2005) counted down the 50 most loathsome people in the United States, and I was thrilled to see Fauxprah had made the cut.

This woman is so irritatingly ... something... it just makes my blood boil.

Yes, I KNOW she's given and she's made and she's done and she's had and she's blaaaaahbitty blah blah. But everything about her screams FAKE! FAKE! FAKE! And she's so tirelessly condescending, it's a wonder her own inflated ego hasn't smacked her upside the head yet.

She gives, but she makes you feel bad for taking.
She jokes, but she makes you feel bad for laughing.
She talks, but she makes you feel bad for listening.

And she wears pastels ALL THE DAMN TIME.

So, yeah... I couldn't let this one go without a mention.

Here's Oprah's entry:

Oprah Winfrey

Charges: Winfrey's entire life is an exercise in self-aggrandizement, from the TV show which tells us what to read and how to live to her eponymous magazine, every issue of which features her smug countenance on its cover. More than just another insufferable Hollywood egotist, Oprah is something more akin to a housewife messiah, providing false hope and faux spirituality for experience-deprived worshippers. Everything she does is strategically designed to draw more praise, more devotees, and of course more money. Recently had celebrated poet Maya Angelou on her program to promote her new poem, which Oprah read for the audience as if she wrote it herself, as she seems to actually believe.

Exhibit A: Dr. Phil.

Sentence: Crushed by self-commissioned 40-story platinum Oprah statue.

BintBuNaz says: Amen!

"I'm the King of the World."

Snippets I

The National Assembly's Legislative and Legal Committee approved a draft law today amending Article 198 of the Penal Code on dishonorable acts to fine 'public displays of homosexuality.'

I wonder how much it's gonne cost to be gay now.
- - - - -
So, I love movies, right? I love them a lot. And I consider myself to be somewhat of a film snob. But lately -- let's say the past 6 months or so -- I don't think I've seen a single film. Not a one. Why?

Because of TV shows on DVD.

Sweet mother of Christ (that would be Mary!), what an obsession that has turned out to be. I can't get enough. I'm watching so many shows and trying to keep up with so many plot lines, my head's about to explode.

Currently, I'm following:

* Lost
* Nip/Tuck (season 4)
* Heroes
* Jericho
* Prison Break
* Grey's Anatomy
* Arrested Development (I've already watched the three seasons like, 8 times, but I can't get enough of this show and I REALLY think someone needs to find a way to get it back on air, ASAP)
* Robot Chicken (yeeheehee!)
* Weeds
* Entourage
* The Nine (despite the fact that I know it's been canceled already :)
* Veronica Mars (season 3)
* Desperate Housewives (season 3)

I also work from 11am (uh.. if I'm awake in time) till approximately 9pm six days a week, and then there's the obligatory 'going out' before heading home anywhere between midnight and 2am. Which means I can really only watch my shows between the hours of 2am - 6am. Hence the sometimes not waking up for work on time.
I've totally effed my sleeping schedule -- my brain does not compute the idea of falling asleep before 5am anymore. No matter HOW tired I am, my brain continues to fight.
"But it's still early!" it nags.
"But I'm TIRED!" I think.
"I don't really give a crap," it concludes.

Stupid brain.
- - - - -
Next time I go to the ATM and my money comes out, I'm gonna start screaming, "I won! I won!"
- - - - -
So, I'm contemplating moving to London for a year. I'm having a love affair with that city and when I'm not there, I miss it like it were family. I was last there in September and even managed to meet up with a few possible employers and all I got were positive responses.

When I came back, I made a mental note that by June '07, I would be in London. Then, of course, procrastination kicked in, and now I know I'll never make that goal. But still, the idea won't erase itself from my head.

I'm thinking I'd like to be sponsored. At first I thought of asking my boss to send me on the company's account -- you know, go out there for a year, do an internship, learn a thing or two, and then come back and make Kuwait a better place. Then I remembered who I work for and started giggling manically until I depressed myself.

So now I'm thinking of setting up a Send BintBuNaz To London foundation where you can all chip in and help make my dreams come true.
- - - - -
And finally, if Tuesday Weld married Hal March III, she'd be Tuesday March 3.

N.
"That's the difference between me and the rest of the world -- happiness isn't good enough for me. I demand euphoria."

Durr

Hi!

So, I've totally forgotten how to add the 'Blogs I Read' list to my page.

Someone log onto my account and do it for me?

Or, you know, give me a step-by-step lesson?

Or just remind me?

Or buy me the new Limited Edition Louis Vuitton purse?

Thanks much!
N.
"Funny, I don't remember being absent minded."

Frustration

You know, for the most part, I'm a nice gal.

I'm friendly; I smile at random people; I pretend to care when someone drones on and on about how cute their child is or how fantastic their new car is or how hot their boyfriend is; I laugh at jokes even if they aren't that funny.

Seriously -- being nice is in my blood.

And I try my hardest not to bitch and whine and complain all the time, because I certainly don't want to be known as 'that girl.' Everyone knows a 'that girl,' and generally, she's not very pleasant to be around, is she?

Well, I'm sure even the Pope is allowed a shitty day every now and again, so please allow me mine. Not that I had a shitty day, mind you. Not at all, actually. But still, I do have something to complain about, and now that I'm back to blogging -- y'know, the Mother Of All Places To Bitch & Rant -- I can get it off my chest and you can all nod in agreement.

Because, really, why would you ever not agree with me?

== begin rant==

So, dad's screening was today. The SMS I got inviting me to the event, as well as the several people I had spoken to regarding the ceremony, said that it would begin at 730pm. In Kuwait, that usually means it would begin anytime between 815 and 845. So when I pulled up at 804pm, I wasn't worried that I'd missed THAT much.

As luck would have it, I walked in about 45 minutes into dad's film. Bizarre that they'd started so early, yet also fascinating. I didn't think much of it and took my seat and began watching.

I've seen the footage a thousand times and could practically quote the film at you, but at this screening, I couldn't hear a single word. Not because the volume was low or the quality was shitty. Nuh uh -- it was because the organizers had the sound turned up to a ludicrous level. When we were watching the MPs screaming and the protesters rallying, and when there were scenes with music or the narrator was narrating, I thought my ears were going to explode, it was so loud.

Did the organizers not for a second think to maybe, oh, I dunno.. turn it down a notch?

Fine, fine. Maybe I'm overreacting and I have sensitive ears and everybody else was hearing clearly and just fine.

What really irks me to no end is what happens at the end of what seems to be every film screening in this country, whether it's being held in private or being played in public theaters.

For the love of all things holy, people... WAIT UNTIL THE FILM IS FINISHED BEFORE TURNING THE LIGHTS ON, FADING TO BLACK AND RUSHING PEOPLE TO DINNER!

Why, why, WHY don't people understand this concept? WHY are we in such a rush to get to the buffet table, which is usually filled to the brim with crap food anyway? WHY won't you let the credits roll? In fact, in this particular case, WHY didn't you even let the film end??

The last scene of this film is probably one of the most important, but me and the 50+ others that were watching didn't get a chance to see it. Because with about five minutes to go before the movie actually ended and the credits begin to roll, the organizers slowly started to undim the lights and fade out the sound of the film. I couldn't quite understand what was going, but as it got brighter and brighter in the room, I remember thinking to myself, "Wait, wait... I'm sure they're not actually going to STOP the movie."

They stopped the movie.

Before the final scene. Before it ended. Before the credits rolled.

Even the audience seemed a little confused. At least, I hope they were confused and not thinking, "Huh? Wha? I wonder why Mr. Al-Zuhair chose to end his film like that."

And that's just the film.

After that, they began the official 'honoring' ceremony, and half the time we couldn't hear the names of the people cause the 'background' music was too loud, and the other half of the time, we couldn't hear their names because the girl presenting wasn't speaking directly into the microphone.

Good times.

Then the awkwardness. Maram walked out in her shiny pants and furry vest and very complicated boots to perform (why is it always Maram that performs at these events, anyway? I'm asking in all seriousness. Is she like, really beloved in this country? I'm serious. Someone explain this woman to me). I happened to be near the stage when she walked in, and I saw her give the most evil eye to the dudes in charge of her music. She had a smile plastered to her face (in case of photos, I presume), but death in her eyes.

"3alow il9ot. 3ALOW IL9OT!" she whispered through gritted teeth.

So, they did what she asked and 3alow il9ot.

Which is why we couldn't hear a word of what she was singing. The sound was too loud again.

OY.

Then everyone was rushed to dinner (again?? I dunno, maybe we weren't asked to go to dinner the first time. But I could've sworn we were).

Gah. It was just so messy and awkward and not professional and nothing like any social event that takes place anywhere else in the world.

And I'm not blaming those responsible. I seriously think this is a default burned deep into our psyches. When dad's first film was being shown around the country, the SAME THING happened during certain screenings.

Volume levels distorted; lights up and sound off before end of film; rushrushrush! to dinner.

Awkward. Uncomfortable. Painful.

That's how I've begun to feel about most social gatherings in this country.

== end rant==

So... yeah. How about a joke?

Q: ga6wa dashat 9aydaliya, laish?
A: ilbab kan imba6al.

N.
"Frustration is the poor man's violence."

You are cordially invited...

... so long as you don't tell anyone I invited you, cause I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to.

ANYWAY -- tonight (Sunday, December 3) at 730pm at Hayat Regency Hotel, there will be an honoring ceremony and Dr. Ahmad Al-Khatib will be there and I'm sure it'll be loads of fun and stuff.

More importantly, however, the first Kuwaiti screening of 'When The People Spoke 2' by my pops will also take place. As most of you know, dad debuted his film at the NUKS conference in NYC last week (I'm sure my invite was just lost in the mail or something... ), and he's still there, trying to get back to Kuwait. Flights are getting canceled left and right due to the weather conditions out there, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that he'll make it in time.

In any event, I did ask one of the guys responsible for this ceremony about invites and whatnot, and he told me that while they've sent out official invitations to certain members of the community, it pretty much is first come, first serve. If you can make it and find yourself a seat, then boy howdy! You're in!

Would love to see you guys there.

N.
"The beginning is the most important part of the work."

Heyo

I said I'd be back, didn't I?

I'm funnier, pinker, and more modest than ever.

Of course, I assume my dad's gonna be reading (nudge nudge, wink wink), so I may have to censor myself before I hit that 'publish post' button.

NOTE TO DAD: Not that I'd EVER have anything to hide from you. (insert giant smiley face)


And just for old times' sake:
If Woody Allen married Natalie Wood, divorced her and married Gregory Peck, divorced him and married Ben Hur, he'd be Woody Wood Peck Hur.

N.
"Some editors are failed writers, but then again, so are most writers."