Plushness

Jean-Francois expected an overweight, dimply, middle-aged woman to arrive at the meeting, in spite of everything he heard about the Middle East Director of his company who he never met-- Nada.

Her flight was delayed and was arriving late, and he was getting annoyed that he has to reshuffle his schedule, but he used his time to sum up the day’s work with his assistant, Frederick.

The door opened and he was taken aback for a second, quickly collecting himself as he stood to greet her. She introduced herself as if she knew that his expectations were far from the figure that had just walked in to the meeting room.

She spoke and he listened carefully, convinced from her first breath that her proposal would be a success. At the end of the meeting, his assistant tactfully asked the overseas guest to join them for lunch, as if reading his manager’s mind. But she declined.

She stood up to leave, the day was over for her, and she had other meetings to attend to. Jean-Francois asked his assistant what he thought of Nada’s proposal, and in his mind he wanted to ask ‘do you think she’s available?’ but he held his thought back as the assistant was obviously in awe as well.

The next day, looking as if she had tried hard to subdue her femininity but with out much success, she met with the I.T. team to brief them on the new product she had proposed to Jean-Francois. He did not need to be there, but he felt that his staff would feel the proposal sanctioned if his support was visible. Not to his surprise, by the time he entered the meeting room, the team had already grasped and accepted the new product.

He tried to decide whether it was her charisma, her looks, or her intelligence that had been so convincing, but he couldn’t. He was intrigued. She was raised and educated in the West, and her dark hair, musky scent, and foreign accent ignited his interest and curiosity. He wondered why she had refused to have lunch with them, and he also admired her confidence in turning down a lunch invitation with a partner. What was she like? He would try to know more about her in their next meeting. He has to arrange for that.

This questions is part of a long bloggerina discussion with Msbaker:

Why did you start your blog?
What keeps you going?
If you are only a reader, what brings you back to a certain blog?

Would love to hear from all visitors of this blog.

Thank you,

Sheba

I was dancing at a wedding with an acquaintance of mine who is very good friends with the bride. When we got to the point on the dance floor closest to where the bride was sitting, she faced her and stood there for what seemed to be an eternity smiling and dancing.

I'm not homophobic (and neither the girl nor the bride were bisexual nor lesbians), and it was not the first time that i see this, but it was a bit weird. I felt very self conscious and did not know what to do. So i stood there smiling and dancing in front of the bride (camera zoomed on my face and silicon attachable breasts – KD 10 from AlTaher) until i got my cue from the girl that she is done with her performance.

I'm sure this fits in with wedding etiquette because the girl was refined to the point that makes me want to hit her sometimes. But i can't say i can really grasp the idea.

She received a call from her first love, the one who at 19 she thought would be her ‘forever love’. She would sketch him whenever she missed him, and sometimes these sketches would graduate into paintings.

The call did not surprise her, but what did somewhat surprise her was that he was planning a one day visit to Kuwait, on ‘business’.

He arrived and they went to dinner. Everything seemed normal. They have been friends for many years. However, one exception to the normalcy occurred towards the middle of the dinner. He was looking at her in a different way, long enough for her to notice, but without discomfort. As well as she knew him, she could not understand what these looks meant.

Among their conversation about life, family, and work, he complimented her on how good she looked and that his mother has been constantly hinting that they should get back together. She smiled, accepted his sweet comments as compliments and they continued their conversation well into dessert and coffee. They said their good byes and she went home without a thought other than that she was glad that they had managed to maintain a healthy friendship over the years.

A month later, he called again to tell her that he is getting engaged to a girl who he met through his sister and that this girl paints and ‘I don’t know why, but I have this strange attraction to girls who paint’.

He had forgotten that she painted. She was not hurt for she was many years over this first love. But with this remark she appreciated the strength of that young love, and its influence and the lasting impressions it left.

Later, she realized that the business he had come to Kuwait for was to meet her, and that he had indirectly asked her if she would accept him, and without much thought although with great honesty, she had declined.

Many years later, recalling her thoughts in a confused but clear de ja vu, she sat calculating how many more times can she endure a forgetful heart that erased her memories only to replace them with identical ones with a different name.

And no its not about the stock (but i did just get a tip to buy).


So, I was walking back to my car after a brief trip to Sultan Center Salmiya, in which I bought a rotisserie chicken and amazing organic chocolate, and it hit me!

I do not want to be doing things alone anymore. Yes, I am happy single. Yes, I am much better off than the many unhappily married people we know and don’t know. Yes, I lead a life that many girls would envy (which I am grateful to God and my family for).

BUT I do not want to be alone anymore. I want to spend the rest of my life with someone who loves me and who I love. Someone who respects me (and family life) and I respect. Someone who enjoys my company, and I enjoy his.



P.S. I was a bit ashamed to write this post (after the more intellectual previous post), but decided that 1) this is my blog and it is about me and how I feel and what I think  and 2) to have emotions is human, and to express them makes me stronger, especially in the face of those who claim or think that a women strong enough to be in politics will deny her familial/maternal instincts and responsibilities.

Yesterday in Alwatan MP W. Tabtabai states that he will expect women to gain their right to vote and to run for Parliament only if:

1. They wear the Hijab
2. Are not alone with a man!
3. Their political work does not destract them from their main responsibility-- caring for their families.

These points (and here's the shock) were stipulated in a book about Muslim women in politics by a woman called Dr. Iqbal Abdulaziz al-Mutawa.

Of course i am insulted, no disgusted, in many respects for the following reasons:
1. For the fact that women are seen as sex objects and hence must cover up to be in Parliament. (But why don't they have to wear the Hijab as Medical Doctors, or as professors, or as deputy Minsiters, or as teachers, or in any other position which women have filled and are excelling in?)

2. If women do not have to wear the Hijab except when in the House of Parliament, what does that tell us about the House? Either that it is packed with nyphomaniacs that take breaks to masturbate, or that it has a brothel on the side and the women MPs should not get mixed up with the prostitutes during breaks! WHAT AN INSULT TO OUR DEMOCRACY. WHAT AN INSULT TO OUR CONSTITUTION. WHAT AN INSULT TO OUR COUNTRY. WHAT AN INSULT TO OUR LATE ABDULLAH AL-SALEM AND OUR FOREFATHERS WHO GAVE US ALL THE RESPECT THAT WE ENJOY TODAY AS KUWAITIES!

3. If the 'Islamists' (I hate using this word to describe these hypocrites because Islam is being tarnished in the process) feel they must stipulate all the conditions of what is sinful and what is not before a woman is to be allowed into Parliament, then shouldn't it be done equally for men? Shouldn't we have a law which states that an MP must NOT show his '3awra', that he should not swim with topless Mexicans chicas in Cancun, that he should not be caught in a car having kinky sex, that he must not fornicate with young boys, that he should not neglect his responsibilities as father of the house (that he must provide for his family and that he must please his wife in bed)?

Sounds rediculous?

IT IS, but if its going to happen it must be done with equality for the sexes.

CHEERS

We (women) spend LOTS-A-MONEY on shopping, and why do we do that?

1. Its comforting. Why i do not really know?
2. We like to 'posses' things we like.
3. We like to look good for men.
4. Last but not least, we like to 'flaunt it' infront of other women- it is competitive, why i do not know.
5. For me, it gives me a sense of achievement- especially when i buy jewelry which i hardly wear.

Can someone explain this to me? Is there a shrink in the house?

Physical Status: Fatter
Mental Status: Sleepy, I hate Saturdays, PMSing but not grumpy
Work Status: Must finish annual report, but for above reasons i will not
Boy Status: Do ugly guys make better Boy Friends?

Away from politics, but not far away from economics, I've been searching for an evening dress for the past 1 month. Why do designers do this to us? Why is there a gap of 2 months between the end of Sale to the beginning of a new evening wear collection?

Help please, i'm dieing for any of the Jean Paul Gaultier dresses (check them out on vogue.co.uk or on elle.com) and i cannot find them anywhere. Leonard will also do, but the 2 I saw in Dxb i did not like, and Kuwait do not have them yet.

Now, on a slightly different note, but still on the subject of retail, why doesn't GULFBANK join the GCC Net so that we do not get embarrassed when in Saks!? And why do they choose to pay my loan installment on different days each month?

Conflicts of interest are leading the future of Kuwait.

Jassim al-Kharafi, MP of Shuweikh and Shamiya and the current president of the Parliament was in the government's opposition lines up until he became president of the Parliament, then the tables turned. He and Sabah Al-Ahmad, the Prime Minister of Kuwait were almost love birds for quiet a time, until the Prime Minister's younger son with his companies started taking some of the potential business that the al-Kharafi conglomerate (rated 54 on Forbes' 100 richest).

Now who should come first, the MPs' bank accounts and their companies' earning potential or the country's future?

Of course, being elected in the first place for his family's money, the latter (Kuwait) is the victim in this difficult choice for Mr. President- or most of the MPs sitting there.

From a very close and reliable source, i heard that al-Kharafi is teaching Mr. Prime Minister a lesson for not putting a lid on his younger son's aggresive business strategies which often use his father's clout to gain a contract or two (example Marina Mall).

In all fairness, the stance that al-Kharafi has taken is backed by the merchant families of Kuwait and their strategy is to join hands with the stronger faction of Parliament (religious and tribal MPs), in opposition to the government's and the Emir's wishes, and inspite of their own credo.

Moreover, the majority of the MPs in opposition to the women's right to run and vote is rooted in the fact that they will not be able to CONTROL their voters votes, and might risk their seats in Parliament. Victims here: Kuwait, integrity, democracy.

I ask our Emir, no I plea, to please dissolve the Parliament until we have MEN who care about the country and its people.

Fact: Kuwait is rated second to Nigeria in corruption, so i don't think these money sucking MPs have done much to protect our country's wealth.

Fact: Kuwait is doing bad in it's human rights records, so the same suckers have not lifted a finger on this, until a bearded terrorists died in jail. (Poetic justice?)

Yes, we all gathered there outside the Parliament house or the National Assembly.

The numbers grew as the time got closer to 9:00 am

Everyone was in the right spirit. A 70 year old man in a wheel chair, a 70 plus year old woman in her Abaya, very energetic, school children, young Kuwaiti women, young Kuwaiti men, ex-ministers, sons and daughters of the MPs who tried to make a difference, sons and daughters of the royal family, professors, house wives, retired professionals of both sexes, and of course BLOGGERS ;)

Missing were men and women of tribal Kuwait.

Inside the house of Parliament was another story (we attended a the session until we got kicked out by Mr. president- for clapping, but hey rules are rules). Now here was the shock: AlKharafi (MP & pres of parliament) said that if the audience is to clap again, that the session would be postponed for 15 minutes for the hall to be cleared (he wanted us out).

Then al-Sa3doun (MP and ex-pres) mumbled on on something i could not hear nore comprehend for 5 minutes then he got an extension for another 5 by voting. Every MP was quiet as he spoke.

Al-Sager (WOMENS' RIGHTS SUPPORTER & runs in the same area as the president) got up to speak, and all of a sudden the 3 dozen sheep herders (Members of Parliament) started to chat with each other as if they were at Friday market.

Then a clap in the audience & out we were!

I wanted to spit on Mutair's head as i saw him sit bored under us. He represents my area- what a fat shame.

This is the text message i wrote my (girl) friends:

Friends, it is a woman's right to vote and run. Let us make a difference. Let us end the insults and the shameless disrespect extended to the brilliant women of our beloved country. Let us take part in making this country a better place. Be heard, represent yourself because no one else will.

Message i want to write to other (girl) friends:

Hey girl friend, in the name of Dolce & Gabbana, in the name of Dior, YSL, Chloe, and Hermes i ask you to please rise out of your luscious beds apply your mascara & the blue Missoni top and come to the National Assembly (on Gulf Road, not far from Salhiya) on Monday 6th of March at 8:00 a.m. If you don't come there is a big chance that we will all be wearing burgaa's in a few years!

Message to my male friends:

Dear friend, You've respected me and you've supported me at all times. I ask you to give a few hours of your time tomorrow and stand next to me to show that you are different, that although we may not be a majority, we want to be heard. I know its early and you'd probably be at work, but this is a historic day. We decide our destiny.