Akh akh....sho life is tough!!
Ya Hasra 3ala joz Nasra!
Akh Ya Albi!
Ya Hasra 3ala joz Nasra!
Akh Ya Albi!
Want something good/exciting to happen...bas what...Allah alone knows...sho I hate days like today!
15 March 2006
Behind....
There is an article in the Guardian today, that is quite interesting, entitled, Behind every Great Male Writer...The story starts with the fact that Dan Brown-author of Da Vinci Code-stated that his wife helped him in the writing of the book. "Brown's wife, Blythe, has been doing much of his work for him. While Brown has been busying himself with writing chapters one-and-a-half pages long, Blythe has been ploughing through complex reference books, marking up key passages, and crisscrossing the internet in search of information that might help her husband." The article goes on to list the number of male authors that have admitted that their wives helped them in the writing procedure,Wordsworth, Nabokov, Carlyle, and, Dick Francis, to name but a few.
It is quite obvious that the personal life of authors is very important for them to be able to write well. Some of wives didnt so much help with the writing or research but they were the ones who made sure that household were running smoothly, "sometimes a wife's contribution has simply been to smooth the life around her husband as much as possible, clearing the way for him to work, undisturbed," aw they stood between their husbands and the fans, or media.
Not all wives, though, have been content to take such a docile back seat: Jane Carlyle, an intellectual and charismatic woman in her own right, found herself having to keep the "bores" and fans away from her husband Thomas as he wrote out his research. According to Professor Rosemary Ashton, Jane "became increasingly bitter and resentful of this role, though obviously it hugely helped her husband".
Other authors, Ted Hughes, Fitzgerald, DH Lawrence, used their wives-and the problems of marriage or their high-strung wives-to write. In the case of Hughes, his wife the GREAT Sylivia Plath, played a huge role in what he wrote in his poetry.
This all goes to show much a role women have been playing behind the scenes in the success of their husbands, the wives, sisters, daughters, end up being the author's typist, proofreader, editor, agent, business manager, chauffeur and, somewhat intriguingly, the person who would cuts up the food for them at every meal.
Without a doubt the most extreme example of this sort of arrangement, is that of Henry Gauthier-Villars. He was a hugely famous French critic in the early part of the 20th century. His most famous work was probably the Claudine series, which he published under his pseudonym, Willy. These turned out to have actually been written by his young wife, Sidonie-Gabrielle Colette, who Gauthier-Villars would lock in a room until she had written the requisite number of pages. She soon divorced her husband and became a celebrated author in her own right of books.
Occasionally, it is husbands who have provided support to their writing wives. Leonard Woolf is widely credited for creating a sufficiently comforting atmosphere in which his wife Virginia could, find enough solace to write. GH Lewes also used to fetch books for his wife, George Eliot, from the libraries as she feared being sneered at outside, due to their marriage not being legitimate.
It is quite obvious that the personal life of authors is very important for them to be able to write well. Some of wives didnt so much help with the writing or research but they were the ones who made sure that household were running smoothly, "sometimes a wife's contribution has simply been to smooth the life around her husband as much as possible, clearing the way for him to work, undisturbed," aw they stood between their husbands and the fans, or media.
Not all wives, though, have been content to take such a docile back seat: Jane Carlyle, an intellectual and charismatic woman in her own right, found herself having to keep the "bores" and fans away from her husband Thomas as he wrote out his research. According to Professor Rosemary Ashton, Jane "became increasingly bitter and resentful of this role, though obviously it hugely helped her husband".
Other authors, Ted Hughes, Fitzgerald, DH Lawrence, used their wives-and the problems of marriage or their high-strung wives-to write. In the case of Hughes, his wife the GREAT Sylivia Plath, played a huge role in what he wrote in his poetry.
This all goes to show much a role women have been playing behind the scenes in the success of their husbands, the wives, sisters, daughters, end up being the author's typist, proofreader, editor, agent, business manager, chauffeur and, somewhat intriguingly, the person who would cuts up the food for them at every meal.
Without a doubt the most extreme example of this sort of arrangement, is that of Henry Gauthier-Villars. He was a hugely famous French critic in the early part of the 20th century. His most famous work was probably the Claudine series, which he published under his pseudonym, Willy. These turned out to have actually been written by his young wife, Sidonie-Gabrielle Colette, who Gauthier-Villars would lock in a room until she had written the requisite number of pages. She soon divorced her husband and became a celebrated author in her own right of books.
Occasionally, it is husbands who have provided support to their writing wives. Leonard Woolf is widely credited for creating a sufficiently comforting atmosphere in which his wife Virginia could, find enough solace to write. GH Lewes also used to fetch books for his wife, George Eliot, from the libraries as she feared being sneered at outside, due to their marriage not being legitimate.
14 March 2006
Modi
I just finished watching a movie about Amedeo Modigliani, the movie is really amazing, named after him, and it shows his life a year before he passed away. I discovered this amazing painter a few years ago, and just feel in love with the way he painted his woman. The long faces, and just the look of sadness in some of them. The one that I really love is Woman in Algeries.
But what is amazing about this man is his life. The way he lived his life, I would love to be like him, just free, do what I want, how I want. He really was a free spirt...got himself into a lot of trouble, and his lifestyle of heavy drinking and smoking, killed him in the end. But his short life-he died when he was only 36-was full...he got to paint amazing painting, live in one of the most amazing cities in the world-Paris-during the time when artists such as Picasso, Utrillo, Jean Cocteau, Soutine where also there. He also got to fall in love and be loved by a woman, who ended up committing suicide that day after he died-ok she killed their unborn baby and I'm not sure I like that, but still...to love someone so much that you can't imagine living a day without them...wow!!!
I really don't how to explain it, I just got so inspired by him, I wish I could paint, that I could creat such amazing pieces of work that many years after he died people still know him, talk about him, make movies about him. Supposedly on Picasso's death bed, he whispered Modigliani's name.
Talking 'bout a Revolution
I am sitting at home, watching Aljazeera and what is happening in Jericho, and the Israeli bombardment of the jail there, to arrest the head of Al Sha3bieh...and my birthday happiness has pretty much disappeared.
The point is that I watch this stuff and just get very depressed, I always think that the situation couldn't possibly get any worse, and I keep getting proved wrong. I mean how can it continue to spiral downhill, and how is it that the world is just standing by? Fuck the world, why are the Arabs standing by? I don't' understand!
Last night, my friends and I were talking about this, is it in our culture to be so passive, or is it that we are so oppressed? I am more of the belief, that it is not our culture, I mean look at what happened after the Danish cartoons were published, we obviously have the culture and the ability to revolt. It must be because people are to oppressed, I mean how can a someone who is not given the real space to express herself think about revolting? What is more, there is no middle class, and if one is to follow Marxist theory, we need that class to actually think and then push for a change. The elite are to happy in the status quo, and the working class are to busy trying to make sure that they have food at the end of the day. I mean my friends and I can sit and talk about this till our faces turn blue, but we are part of the elite I guess, and what would we really benefit from forcing a change.
Wallah I don't know, all I know is I am quite down, and seem to be reaching the point of losing my hope, and my belief that everyone wants thing to change, that people are willing to risk everything to do that. I look at my parents lives, and what that generation believed in, what they did, and I am gutted that our generation-which has had more opportunities and greater chances-just doesn't seem to have the guts, the will, nor the ambition.
13 March 2006
Fumbling Towards Ecstasy
I am turning 28 tomorrow-March 14-I love my even years...they always seem to be better then the odd ones. Have no idea why, maybe it is just a thought I decided when I was younger, and then kind of convinced myself of it, and so now think that it is a fact.
I find that just before one's birthday its the best time for a person to recount what they did and didn't do the year before and to be happy about what they accomplished and to work on what they still wanna do. I find this a better time to do this then lets say New Years...so having looking back on this year, I find I have actually done quite a bit.
I decided to leave the UK and come back to Amman. I found a job, and started making my own money, saw what am amazing feeling it is that first time you go to the cash point and withdraw your first tenner knowing that its not from your parents bas yours...that you worked hard for it. I have met amazing people here in Amman, people that I have grown to really love and enjoy their company. I have also realised that not 'anyone' can or should be allowed into my life, and that its fine to think like that, normal even. I have also found that as I have grown older, I care less and less what people think or say about me, who cares, why bother is what I think. While when I was younger I used to obsess about what people thought, and wanted everyone to like me. As Sarah McLachlen says:
All the fear has left me now
I’m not frightened anymore
It’s my heart that pounds beneath my flesh
It’s my mouth that pushes out this breath
Yet there are things that I still wanna do. My dream is to be the first women (or Arab woman) Secretary-General of United Nations, I thought that I would have done that by now-actually I thought that I would have done that when I was 25. I have just resigned from my job-yesterday-and now am looking for something else to do. I always wanted to bungie jump, I wanna wear a bikini and not hate myself in it. I wanna stop being a worrier-staying up late thinking about things and rethinking about them. Bas what I really really wanna do is to be content with what I have. No not content bas truely happy. I wanna be able to say to myself many years from now that I don't regret anything I did, that if I had to relive my life I would live it the same way. My father always tells me that and it is the one statement that makes me the proudest of him.
I guess I still have a way to go-and thank god for that, how boring would the rest of my life be if I had done everything already-but doing this once a year, is also good for me. To rethink ones life (every aspect of it) every once in awhile I think is very healthy, and very important. That way you never lose track of where you wanna go and what you need to do to get there.
I find that just before one's birthday its the best time for a person to recount what they did and didn't do the year before and to be happy about what they accomplished and to work on what they still wanna do. I find this a better time to do this then lets say New Years...so having looking back on this year, I find I have actually done quite a bit.
I decided to leave the UK and come back to Amman. I found a job, and started making my own money, saw what am amazing feeling it is that first time you go to the cash point and withdraw your first tenner knowing that its not from your parents bas yours...that you worked hard for it. I have met amazing people here in Amman, people that I have grown to really love and enjoy their company. I have also realised that not 'anyone' can or should be allowed into my life, and that its fine to think like that, normal even. I have also found that as I have grown older, I care less and less what people think or say about me, who cares, why bother is what I think. While when I was younger I used to obsess about what people thought, and wanted everyone to like me. As Sarah McLachlen says:
All the fear has left me now
I’m not frightened anymore
It’s my heart that pounds beneath my flesh
It’s my mouth that pushes out this breath
Yet there are things that I still wanna do. My dream is to be the first women (or Arab woman) Secretary-General of United Nations, I thought that I would have done that by now-actually I thought that I would have done that when I was 25. I have just resigned from my job-yesterday-and now am looking for something else to do. I always wanted to bungie jump, I wanna wear a bikini and not hate myself in it. I wanna stop being a worrier-staying up late thinking about things and rethinking about them. Bas what I really really wanna do is to be content with what I have. No not content bas truely happy. I wanna be able to say to myself many years from now that I don't regret anything I did, that if I had to relive my life I would live it the same way. My father always tells me that and it is the one statement that makes me the proudest of him.
I guess I still have a way to go-and thank god for that, how boring would the rest of my life be if I had done everything already-but doing this once a year, is also good for me. To rethink ones life (every aspect of it) every once in awhile I think is very healthy, and very important. That way you never lose track of where you wanna go and what you need to do to get there.
12 March 2006
The Scream of the Butterfly
Meeting guys is a hard thing to do here in Amman, one way to get around that I have found is to be introduced to a friend of friends. It always seemed to me to be the safest bet, since if you are friends with A and they are also friends with B, then that must mean that B is a good person. Now don't know if this is a case of Lulwa's logic gone wonky again, but should I not take for granted that if I trust someone and they trust someone that I should trust person 3? Hehehehe...can see you all going HUH?
Ok...let us take a scenario...you are friends with Fat7i, you get a long really well, he is funny, intelligent, has a good job, makes good money, is trustworthy, confident, and just a plain good guy. On a certain night, you are out with Fat7i and he introduces you to Ra2fat, and since Fat7i is so great...you assume that Ra2fat is as well.
Bas we all know what happens when you assume...you make an ass out of you and me!!!
So you are sitting chatting away to the Ra2fat dude, he is quite funny, and quite cute and seems interested...so you are happy assuming-again-that all is well...only to later find out he:
Ok...let us take a scenario...you are friends with Fat7i, you get a long really well, he is funny, intelligent, has a good job, makes good money, is trustworthy, confident, and just a plain good guy. On a certain night, you are out with Fat7i and he introduces you to Ra2fat, and since Fat7i is so great...you assume that Ra2fat is as well.
Bas we all know what happens when you assume...you make an ass out of you and me!!!
So you are sitting chatting away to the Ra2fat dude, he is quite funny, and quite cute and seems interested...so you are happy assuming-again-that all is well...only to later find out he:
- Has a girlfriend
- Thinks women who stay out past 10:30 pm are sluts
- Thinks women who wear short skirts are prostitutes
- Tells you that he will take you home only to drop you in the middle of the street at 1 am.
So Ra2fat is a twat, but then one has to think what does it mean in regard to Fat7i...I mean mish the saying goes, you can tell a lot about someone by his/her friends...or something along those lines...what is one to think of Fat7i if he has a friend who is so fucking stupid? Does it not mean that he is also a bit of twit...or why else would he be friends with someone like that?
Also what chance do single young women like me have to meet someone in this great city of ours, if I can't depend on my male friends to introduce me to nice, eligible men. I mean seriously I have heard some bizarre stories from friends, who have been introduced to guys by male friends (who tell them that this guy is so your type) only to meet some of the worlds most-well to put it mildly-assholely guys ever! Guys who are either too old, too young, too boring, too vulgar, too nice, too sweet, just too wrong.
I also think that since I introduce my male friends to great women, that this treatment should be reciprocated...bas this is not what is happening...it seems that male friends actually enjoy introducing me to the sort of men that they know with 100% certainty that I won't be interested in.
11 March 2006
Lying Style
While reading through my monthly 7JD purchase of Glamour, I stumbled across an article that made me think...yeah if you can believe that is possible from Glamour! In it, we were given four statements, and you choose that one that applies to your lying style, its supposed to be one of those find out what your fibs say about you. Anyho, the four options were:
So after thinking about for a millisecond, I confessed to being number 3, The Blagger...bullshitter in other words. I know that about myself from quite a while, and if any of you know me, then you would have guessed it was that one, before I just declared it.
So blagger's, are bright, articulate people, which is why our lies are so convincing-am loving the article till now...then it goes downhill...turns out I lie because I have low self-esteem and lie to gain popularity...hmmmmm...then it goes on to give us advice "Truth Time". The trick is to know your limits: we all bluff but stop if you find your lies getting more elaborate" Dr. Gill says "Ask yourself, why?" LOL
I then went on the ever trustworthy Google, and put in blaggers, and pressed I'm Feeling lucky, I was sent to Dementlieu Punk Archive, where this is a band from 1988, that was called Blaggastyle! They were a openly left wing, anti-fascist skinhead band. Then I went to Wikipedia, and found words that mean the same thing, BullShit, Tall tale, HorseShit, Gobbledygook, Hogwash, and Gibberish, to name just a few. Then there was the book-which I own-called On Bullshit, by Harry Frankfurt, in it he states that the liar knows and cares about the truth and intentionally goes out of their way to mislead, while the bullshiter does not care about the truth and is only seeking to impress!! He fixes the blame for the prevalence of bullshit in modern society upon anti-realism and upon the commonality of situations in which people are expected to speak or have settled opinions without knowing what they're talking about.
Does this mean that blogs are the heaven of Blaggers? I for one would agree with that, and am proud of being part of the blagger blogs!!!
- I'd tell a friend they look great, even if they didn't, so to save their feelings.
- I'd pretend I'd done exciting things at the weekend to impress my colleagues.
- If I didn't know the answer to something, I'd rather make it up than admit ignorance.
- I'd blame someone else at work for my mistakes to make myself look better.
So after thinking about for a millisecond, I confessed to being number 3, The Blagger...bullshitter in other words. I know that about myself from quite a while, and if any of you know me, then you would have guessed it was that one, before I just declared it.
So blagger's, are bright, articulate people, which is why our lies are so convincing-am loving the article till now...then it goes downhill...turns out I lie because I have low self-esteem and lie to gain popularity...hmmmmm...then it goes on to give us advice "Truth Time". The trick is to know your limits: we all bluff but stop if you find your lies getting more elaborate" Dr. Gill says "Ask yourself, why?" LOL
I then went on the ever trustworthy Google, and put in blaggers, and pressed I'm Feeling lucky, I was sent to Dementlieu Punk Archive, where this is a band from 1988, that was called Blaggastyle! They were a openly left wing, anti-fascist skinhead band. Then I went to Wikipedia, and found words that mean the same thing, BullShit, Tall tale, HorseShit, Gobbledygook, Hogwash, and Gibberish, to name just a few. Then there was the book-which I own-called On Bullshit, by Harry Frankfurt, in it he states that the liar knows and cares about the truth and intentionally goes out of their way to mislead, while the bullshiter does not care about the truth and is only seeking to impress!! He fixes the blame for the prevalence of bullshit in modern society upon anti-realism and upon the commonality of situations in which people are expected to speak or have settled opinions without knowing what they're talking about.
Does this mean that blogs are the heaven of Blaggers? I for one would agree with that, and am proud of being part of the blagger blogs!!!
09 March 2006
Women and Toilets
After being in Amman for over 6 months-OH MY GOD-I have come to the conclusion that once a woman leaves the house/office/bar/restaurant, she has not choice but to hold 'it' in till she gets to the next destination. I am being serious. I have had two such experiences during my time here.
The first one was a few months ago, me and two male friends of mine were downtown walking around-one was visiting from Jerusalem-anyho, we ended up in Jordan Bar-very old, and very nice place do check it out-and after drinking a few beers I started to need the lou. So we look around and what I find is a bright red curtain and over it a sign saying: TOILET. So one of my male friends goes and comes back to tell me that I should just hold it in, since the only thing standing between me and the world 'seeing me' is that curtain. I put a brave face on, and hold it in...after nagging my two friends into submission we leave the place. We are on our way home, when they decide that a bottle of wine would be perfect-think we were heading to a party or something-and so they stop and start BROWSING for wine.
At this point we are few seconds from my house and my bladder knows it! And like all these situations, the urge to go increases by 100%. I rush into the petrol station-yes a PETROL STATION-and ask for the toilet. The men all look at each other, and say: Mit2akhed? I just look at them, while I jump from one leg to another...and one points to the back room. THANK GOD THE LIGHTS WERE NOT WORKING...I don't think I would have gone to the toilet if I had seen the dirt that was on this toilet. After finishing my deed, I walked out and smiled at the men...who all looked at me shyly. I went home and washed my hands in dettol.
You would think I had learned my lesson...bas no...this is Lulwa!!!!
So yesterday I was in Amigo watching the Arsenal vs Real Madrid match, enjoyed myself, and then was heading home with a friend of mine-male-and we stop at Thawaq-great sandwiches-and I again get the urge to go to the toilet...so I look around and find none at this take away place...bas the old man is so nice and so I ask him for the toilet. They are like we have the keys to the upstairs toilets, but where is the guy you came in with...I look at them strangely and ask Why? They say that he should come along and stand outside! I answer with, well you have the key I can lock the door...bas NOOOOOOOOOOOO...so add humiliation to an already uncomfortable situation, I had to go up to my friend and ask him to guard my toilet door...he of course didn't understand why he had to come, bas complied-bless his heart-and so I am in the toilet (which was Arabic style, bless the lord) and he is outside waiting by the stairs...lol!
Don't worry I didn't' eat the sandwich till I got home and used dettol again!
So the moral, we need public toilets, that are clean and that women can use.
And now a Lulwa logic statement:
This is just another way to keep women indoors and not allow them to participate in the public life of this country!
The first one was a few months ago, me and two male friends of mine were downtown walking around-one was visiting from Jerusalem-anyho, we ended up in Jordan Bar-very old, and very nice place do check it out-and after drinking a few beers I started to need the lou. So we look around and what I find is a bright red curtain and over it a sign saying: TOILET. So one of my male friends goes and comes back to tell me that I should just hold it in, since the only thing standing between me and the world 'seeing me' is that curtain. I put a brave face on, and hold it in...after nagging my two friends into submission we leave the place. We are on our way home, when they decide that a bottle of wine would be perfect-think we were heading to a party or something-and so they stop and start BROWSING for wine.
At this point we are few seconds from my house and my bladder knows it! And like all these situations, the urge to go increases by 100%. I rush into the petrol station-yes a PETROL STATION-and ask for the toilet. The men all look at each other, and say: Mit2akhed? I just look at them, while I jump from one leg to another...and one points to the back room. THANK GOD THE LIGHTS WERE NOT WORKING...I don't think I would have gone to the toilet if I had seen the dirt that was on this toilet. After finishing my deed, I walked out and smiled at the men...who all looked at me shyly. I went home and washed my hands in dettol.
You would think I had learned my lesson...bas no...this is Lulwa!!!!
So yesterday I was in Amigo watching the Arsenal vs Real Madrid match, enjoyed myself, and then was heading home with a friend of mine-male-and we stop at Thawaq-great sandwiches-and I again get the urge to go to the toilet...so I look around and find none at this take away place...bas the old man is so nice and so I ask him for the toilet. They are like we have the keys to the upstairs toilets, but where is the guy you came in with...I look at them strangely and ask Why? They say that he should come along and stand outside! I answer with, well you have the key I can lock the door...bas NOOOOOOOOOOOO...so add humiliation to an already uncomfortable situation, I had to go up to my friend and ask him to guard my toilet door...he of course didn't understand why he had to come, bas complied-bless his heart-and so I am in the toilet (which was Arabic style, bless the lord) and he is outside waiting by the stairs...lol!
Don't worry I didn't' eat the sandwich till I got home and used dettol again!
So the moral, we need public toilets, that are clean and that women can use.
And now a Lulwa logic statement:
This is just another way to keep women indoors and not allow them to participate in the public life of this country!
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