Plushness

Ever wondered why when you're happily involved in a relationship, or once you got engaged, or married you became constantly persued by the opposite/same sex?

Well, i think i am coming to a conclusion that when a person is happy, they look it, and happiness is attractive.




Disclaimer: if you are in a (healthy) relationship and you're not persued, this does not mean you are not happy, it just may mean you must comb your hair (or wash it then comb), pluck those nazal hairs, or use listerine more often.



poster credits:
http://thisistom.co.uk/happy/

Dear All,

Please excuse the delay in posts, for i was in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, and was able to collect noteworthy blog material. But my work and mood environment are not allowing me literary indulgence.

Please bare with me, perhaps my muse will return with more goodies!

Best Regards,

Sheba

God Bless her!Shes the eldest of my father's sisters, and she is what keeps our family intact since grandma. She is a 55 year old adolesent, who giggles histerically at any opportunity.

Today at grandma's house she was awfully quiet, and then all of a sudden she burts out into "listen sister in-law, do you know a cheese called vonk?"
"e e3yali ma e7eboona"
"My cousin Sarah told me its good for fatayer, so i bought a block thiiis big (pointing to half of her arm), and we shredded it, and my children said eff yumma shenu hatha?" Chan agooluhum (il help) 7e6aw 3elaih zaatar, chan eseer akhyas, chan agool "Ge66oh!" And she starts laughing hard, she turns red, and we all laugh with her.

She then was quiet for a while. The she burst out "My younger brother, your husband, called me and said 'why dont we go get insulin shots so that we can eat as much as we want?' so i told him no i can manage myself and i dont want to be one of those diabetics iley enahtoon, o mabi aseer 3amya wil gangrene etnatef eryooly" Poor uncle was probably kidding, but Aunt S was very serious in recounting the story

A few minutes later, my dad woke up. He’s been unwell. I wanted to spend time to him, but I did not have the emotional energy to walk into his room as if I am okay. He would know, as ill as he is, and that would worry him.

I sat in the living room, reading a book, and my brother came and sat next to me. Silent. He was reading too. My mother came also, she sat down, looking worried and helpless. Then my dad came in, slowly, accompanied. He sat down, could not cross his legs by himself, I tried to ignore his decay, be cheerful talking to him, and in a few minutes, he was asleep again. Both my mother and I were looking at his chest, secretly for fear of worrying one another.

Not long ago, I told a fellow blogger, who was waiting for that phone call from her love, that 3 days is not a break, it’s a break-up.

Saturday
Everything was lovely all day. But in the evening, he seemed angry. I asked him if he was okay? He said he was. I realized I needed to leave him alone.

Sunday morning
He called me in very high loving spirits. We talked for a while, I asked him what was wrong last night, he said he was in a bad mood, and that this happens to him every November.

Sunday noon
“Your excuses are funny” he said
“Haha” I laughed
“A guy running with your phone, your phone had call waiting, but you couldn’t speak to me, and now your cousin”
“Huh?”
“You don’t need to make up these silly excuses” He was serious. He was angry.
“Excuses?”
“Yes, excuses, you always talk to me when you eat. When you find me interesting to talk to, or when you have time for me, call me”
“Excuses means that I did something wrong, and I’m lying”
He wasn’t listening
“When you realize what you’ve done, call me”
The conversation proceeded to a higher tone, accusations, same words said over and over. I was trying to understand why he was accusing me as such. He was now furious. I was feeling more and more helpless. I started crying and screaming “what have I ever done to £$%%ing deserve this? Why are you treating me this way? What have I done to you?”

And then came silence. He asked me to not call him or text him. And its been 4 days.

"...Do you believe that your past loves have taught you to love better?"

"They've taught me to know what I want."

"I didn't ask that. Have your past loves taught you to love your husband better?"

"No, on the contrary. In order to surrender myself to him, I had to forget all the scars left by the other men. Is that what you mean?"

"In order for the true energy of love to penetrate your soul, your soul must be as if you had just been born. Why are people unhappy? Because they want to imprison that energy, which is impossible. Forgetting your personal history means leaving that channel clear, allowing that energy to manifest itself each day in whatever way it chooses, allowing yourself to be guided by it."


A dialog between the wife of the narrator of The Zahir, who left her husband to go search for the answer on lasting love, and an old wise man in Central Asia.


The Zahir is a novel By Paulo Coelho

We were still in love when we broke up. Every remedy or vice in the world would not take away the feeling of loss, not the loss of a loved one, but the loss of life.

I traveled the world, climbed every mountain, found new success, new acquaintances, but I couldn't hide the loss. So I learned to live with it, and with that I thought I was no longer in love with him, but that I only loved him like I love my kin.

We became friends-- which meant that we can now talk to each other whenever we needed to. He dated others, I also started to date others. And two years later I was free of my love to him and proceeded into a serious relationship.

Of course I called him to tell him about it, and although I had threatened to run into another man's arms forever before, he knew that this time it was not an attempt to make him jealous and act into action.

His voice quivered, my eyes blurred. I thought it was normal, since we did not have the liberty to call each other as we have before. I told him that I would always love him, and I will always be his best friend. He knew I was not lying.

The serious relationship did not work out.

I slowly picked up my pieces, and my best friend was there for me.

A year and a half later, he had a dream that we would be together again. And when we met for the first time in three years, we knew that true love does last forever.

Today Saad Bin Tefla & Taiba Sadeq

7:00 pm

Kuliat Al-Tarbia Al-Asasiyah (3rd ring Rd) , Baneen, Qa3at Khalid Al-Samhan




P.S. I hate writing Arabic in English Letters BUT somehow i lost the option to type in Arabic on this PC

Blogs I like:

1. Fun ones, with lotsa energy
2. Resourceful ones, where I learn
3. Eye openers
4. Controversial but not always horny

Blogs I Dislike:

1. Long ones
2. Subjective ones 'I, I, I' and to which i cannot relate to
3. Boring ones, those which simply copy paste news or items

1. Why DO i have water retention now?
(meteena)

2. Why we had to be the 1st Gulf country with avian flue?
(I guess we have to be 1st in everything)

3. Why i get more compliments when i gain weight?
(I'm guessing its cultural thing)

4. Why isn't queen spelt qween?

Definition:

A.SOBs are men who annoy the hell out of me via their behaviour, attitude, and language. These men tend to stare at you with no shame, with focus on your most rounded parts (in spite of what you are wearing), they tend to play (adjust) with themselves again with no shame; they also tend to have overly positive self images (that is: they believe they are the answer to all your fantasies).

How to avoid A.SOBs:

Avoid public places, avoid eye contact with all men (just in case), and avoid answering any number that is not saved on your phone. Avoid flying Kuwait Airways (many of them work there), avoid Al-Mubarakia, Baladia (Municipality) Ministry of Interior, Ministry of (Mis)Information (many of them work there too).

How to deal with A.SOBs:

On foot:

If they walk into your office claiming that they have some business and they do not, then ask them immediately for their full name, position in the entity they claim to work in, and their manager’s name. They feed on making women nervous, so when you act confident they don’t know what to do and they leave.

In your car:

If you get followed by an A.SOB, drive towards your area calmly, and then stop in front of your police station honking your horn.

Dear Readers,

This insult to my intelligence and to my nationalism made the first page news today:

فيصل المسلم: امنعوا النساء من العمل بمحلات الملابس الرجالية!
امتدح عضو مجلس الامة الدكتور فيصل المسلم امس قرار منع الرجال من العمل في محلات الملابس النسائية الخاصة ووصفه بـ «الرائع» لكن المسلم دعا الى قرار آخر بمنع عمل النساء في محلات بيع الملابس الرجالية الخاصة متسائلا عن سبب عدم شمولهن بالمنع. التفاصيل...

There seems to be an increasing number of annoying bitches around, i guess its Kuwait's answer to the avian flue.

Annoying Bitch (A.B.) is a term coined by Ms. Papillona

Definition of Annoying Bitch:
A bitter woman who’s life objective is to sabotage any wellbeing seen on, in, about, around, above, beneath, or nearby anyone. She will act like an angel in public and in the company of men, and she will deliberately publicly humiliate you in a very cunning manner, in efforts to deface you of any dignity.

How to avoid Annoying Bitches:
Stay at home, and ignore your telephone.

How to deal with Annoying Bitches:
Be a bigger bitch, blackmail her, or ignore her if you can.

Examples of an Annoying Bitch:

1. See http://papillona.blogspot.com/2005/11/only-if-i-find-genie-lamp.html
2. A.B. can be married with 3 children, but insists on competing with single women in the presence of single men. In this instance an A.B. knows she is not equipped to compete fairly, so she begins her conversations as such (speaking loud and clear so that all men, women, and insects can not only hear, but also comprehend):

A.B.: Dear Sheba, how’s your back problem?
Sheba: You mean when I fell on the trampoline in 6th grade?
A.B.: Oh how ridiculous of me, that was 20 years ago!
Sheba: Yeah, it seems like yesterday
A.B.: Its okay, you still have a few months till menopause.

I liked all the tamplates i used in the past 2 months or so, but i really did not find myself in them.

So, i'm back to the pink template :)

Thank you for all your support and hope you all had a great Eid.

Sheba bint plushness Al-Blogger

My travel day went as usual, traded, when to 2 meetings, did my correspondence, then lazily checked my ticket to find that my plane was 1 hour before the time I had planned to be at the airport. I drove like a mad woman while talking to Ramila, our Goan housekeeper who must be spoken to in perfect English or else will not respond, to tell her what to pack. I got home, grabbed a quick bite, bid my parents farewell, and ran to the airport.

Of course I never carry cash and that would be the first thing I pursue upon arrival. Then, at my hotel, I realized while talking on the phone, that I do not have the confirmation number but I carry a loyalty card so the receptionists must smile in spite of their aggravationon with me. I asked for an upgrade too.

In longer trips I would first unpack then shower, in shorter ones, I would proceed to shower right before ordering a hot drink. From here onwards, each trip is unique in its mishaps:

I was in Dubai yesterday and as soon as I jumped out of my shower, I realized that I forgot my deodorant. I have forgotten sleeping socks, work shoes, chargers, but never deo. Thank God for Uncle A's advise to a new staff member with body odor problems which I always thought was amusing but never have I thought that I would one day follow:

Uncle A to BO employee: Everyday, you must shower, then you must buy the big yellow cologne from Jamiyaa (I will buy for you), and splash a handful under each arm, then you must wear fresh clothes.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen I sprayed *perfume on my underarmerarm. And yes, it worked.

Travel Tip Number One: Use perfume/cologne instead of deodorant when in need


*Armani, the pink one