I start today happy and giddy… today is my last appointment with the dentist! I am going to get fitted for a crown, behave like the terminator and allow a metal beam to be inserted inside my tooth. I play cool, well as long as i do not feel a thing, i do not care! [...]

Is curiosity a BAD thing? How curious are you? And how far would you go to find the answers for your questions?I’ve been asking my self those questions for a while, is being curious a bad thing? Well, I don’t think so. I’m a curious person myself, I ju…

Today i went in to complete the so-called process of Root Canaling…
Whomever the butcher who thought he was fit to become a dentist and came up with the idea to do this procedure to *HEAL* painful roots must have hated the first person he invented the procedure on… he must have torture in his mind.
The [...]

When I was younger I always wondered why Quality Street never made a box of one of the kids and a full box of it or a big one. I found this the other day in the supermarket. Never knew they had it. 5asara mafeeh the strawberry rose one.I love Mint Choc…

I have spent the whole evening looking in old photo albums, I mean REALLY old! Talking about the mid-seventies!when ma was a teenager, and grandma looks fabulous in tight outfits! LOL: PWhile I was searching for the perfect photos of my childhood (it w…

Jawhara tossed and turned in bed, wondering what was bothering Mbarak. She called him knowing that he was asleep, hoping he wouldn’t mind a little chat. Mbarak answered after the second ring, and his voice thick with sleep came through the speaker. “Shfeech, Jojo?”
“I can’t sleep,” she mumbled, “Gooli what’s wrong?”
Mbarak rolled onto his back and put his arm behind his head. The moonlight shone through his flimsy curtains, leaving faint white patterns on his bed sheets. He took a deep breath, frantically trying to gather his thoughts and find a way to tell Jawhara what had happened. “Well, remember Reem?” he began.
“Yes..,” Jawhara replied quietly, trying not to let Mbarak hear her heavy breathing.
“Well, it turns out her mom is a friend of my mom’s.. Min ziman.. Oo ams billail she walked over to me oo invited me to lunch..” Mbarak paused, waiting for some kind of response from Jawhara.
“And..?” Jawhara asked, her face prickling with angry heat.
“And I went, but I left before lunch was over because I heard them talking while I was in the bathroom,” Mbarak said in one long-winded breath. He buried his head deeper into his lumpy pillow waiting for a real response, but the stark silence on the other end of the line spoke worlds. “Jawharti?” he cleared his throat.
“Mbarak,” Jawhara began through gritted teeth.
“Joojti, I’m sorry; walla I am,” Mbarak pleaded pathetically, “I couldn’t turn her down because she’s my mom’s friend, bes walla I didn’t wanna be there. Walla.”
“Mbarak,” Jawhara repeated, her nostrils flaring in disappointment. She kicked her hot duvet off, letting the air condition cool her body down.
Mbarak closed his eyes in dismay; he hated when people called him by his name like that. “Jawhara, I’m sorry..,” he sighed, “Arjooch la tiz3ileen minni.. I didn’t wanna upset you, bes I figured you’d find out either way so it would be best if I was honest with you and told you.”
A long silence followed by heavy breathing echoed through the phone. Jawhara frowned and bit her dry lip, trying to figure out how to reply without letting him off the hook so easily. She was glad he was honest with her, but it still hurt.
“I appreciate your honesty,” she finally spoke, “But I would’ve appreciated it more if you told me once it happened.”
Mbarak’s throat dried up, “I know, Jawharti.. I’m sorry, walla.”
“Inzain, I’ll talk to you later, Mbarak,” Jawhara said sternly, “T9be7 3ala 5air.”
Not knowing how to reply or beg for more time to explain, he wished her the same and hung up. He couldn’t help but send her a text message: “jawharti plz.. 7aggech 3alay wallaaaa a6eg ildenya bl6ofa wala enech tz3eleen meni!”
Jawhara’s phone beeped with a text message alert, and when she read Mbarak’s message, tears stung her eyes. “Yeah, right,” she said out loud to no one in particular. Sighing deeply, she switched off her mobile phone, recited her mu3awethat and went to sleep.

The next morning was a drag for Fajer, Wahab, Jawhara, and Mbarak.
Mbarak called Wahab first thing in the morning to tell him that he’d told Jawhara and explained the way she reacted.
Wahab groaned, tangling his legs in his sky blue bed sheets. “Barook, ana giltlik latgoolaha,” he took a deep breath and tried to wake himself up from his groggy sleep.
“I had to, Whayeb, yalla 3ad!” Mbarak rubbed his shaved head, “Itha min awalha ba5esh 3alaiha then it’s just gonna go downhill.”
“I guess,” Wahab hugged his pillow against his bare chest. “Yalla ma 3alaih.. She’ll get over it, bes inta fich 3anha shway 5alha et6e5. Shbitsawi?”
“Madri. Bag3ad wiya ahali shway.. Inta shbitsawi?”
“Ta3al wiyay Avenues,” Wahab offered.
“Sh3indik hnaak?” Mbarak asked, propping his head up on one elbow.
“Madri, nitmasha,” Wahab replied, slowly kicking his bed sheets away from his body. The cold air in his room swept against his body, sending a chill up his spine.
“Foga. Amurrik ana,” Mbarak said, checking the time, “Aqal min sa3a wakoon 3indik.”
“Lat6awel Barook,” Wahab pleaded, “Mali 5ilg 3awar ras min il9ib7.” He knew that in no time his parents would start the early-morning routine of nagging him about schoolwork and when-are-you-going-to-take-your-sister or how-many-times-have-I-told-you.
“Inshalla,” Mbarak wrinkled his nose, and they both hung up and jumped out of bed to get ready for their outing.

Jawhara woke up with a weight on her chest. She sighed deeply, hoping that the heavy feeling would subside, but it didn’t. She turned her phone back on – something she wasn’t used to doing since she almost never turned her phone off for any reason, especially when she was upset. To Jawhara’s satisfaction, MissU had sent her at least 4 messages alerting her that Mbarak had called her while her phone was off, and of course, a series of apologetic messages from him. Jawhara pursed her lips and was about to call Fajer, thinking about telling her about the incident last night. It wasn’t Jawhara’s usual way of handling things; she knew when to keep things private, and relationship problems were something she knew not to share with her best friend. It’s not that Jawhara didn’t trust Fajer so much – they trusted each other with their lives – but it was the fact that it would make her relationship with Mbarak less exclusive if everyone was involved. Besides, she needed to learn how to handle these situations alone, no matter how badly she needed advice.
Instead, Jawhara shoved her phone into the kangaroo pockets of her sweater and walked into the bathroom to wash up for prayers. After she’d prayed, she felt the weight lifted off her chest as she repeated, “La Elaha Illa Allah, M7amad Rasool Allah.”

As she stepped out of her room, her younger sister Joori (who was only 4) ran up to her and hugged her thigh as she would every morning. “Happy Birthday, Jawhara!” Joori giggled in her high-pitched voice.
“Joori, it’s not my birthday,” Jawhara laughed and tousled her baby sister’s hair. Sometimes she felt the true blessing of having a younger sister; Joori was annoying sometimes, and a “Kanana” as her mother put it, but it was times like these where Jawhara was so glad to have a bundle of joy to cheer her up when she needed it.
“Yes, it is!” Joori picked up Jawhara’s hand and kissed it as they walked down the stairs to the dining area, “Princess Jawhara!”
“Intay ilprincess, walla,” Jawhara grinned and picked her baby sister up and carried her down the stairs. Joori’s shrill giggles echoed through the house until they reached the dining area. The stunning morning light shone through the windows, illuminating every room perfectly. Jawhara smiled at the beautiful day taking course outside until a gorgeous arrangement of flowers caught her eye.
Joori grabbed Jawhara’s hand again, led her to them, and repeated, “Happy Birthday, Princess Jawhara!”
Jawhara laughed and shook her head, eyeing the magnificent Calla lilies – her favorite flower – which were surrounded by fragrant jasmines and white roses. A card was neatly tucked into a plastic prong, and curiosity got the best of Jawhara. She opened it to find a message written in the neatest handwriting:
9aba7 ilward, Jawharti..
Hope your day is as beautiful as these flowers :*
Yours,
Barookich

Jawhara laughed out loud in happiness and shock and surprise all mixed together – ‘What a lovely 7araka, but how the hell did he get my address?’ Jawhara wondered. “Awwww!” she sang out loud.
“Who are they from?” Joori asked, trying to catch a look at the card in Jawhara’s hand.
“From Fajer,” Jawhara replied, tucking the card into the pocket of her sweater and pulling out her phone. She dialed Mbarak’s number and he picked up before the first ring even ended.
“Jojo!” he exclaimed, the excitement in his voice.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you for the beautiful flowers, awal shay,” Jawhara smiled.
“Tistahlain wurood ildinya,” Mbarak sighed, his heart racing.
“Thank you.. Oo thani shay, how did you get my address?” Jawhara frowned playfully, pulling out a chair at the dining table and pouring herself a mug of chay 7aleeb.
“Ra7 tithbe7eeni, bes I remembered your license plate number and I made a few calls,” Mbarak explained guiltily.
“Hey!” she cried, trying not to laugh, “You stalker!”
“Shasawi ba3ad? Shloon anam wintay mo ra’6ya 3alay?” Mbarak smiled.
“Well, you made your point,” Jawhara bit her lip while stirring the sugar lumps into her tea.
“Does that mean we’re good?” Mbarak asked hopefully.
“Good oo bes?” Jawhara looked at the flowers gracing the table, “You scored major brownie points with me. Calla lilies are my favorite kind of flower.”
“Ashwa..,” Mbarak sighed.
“Wainik?” Jawhara asked, hearing the sound of his car’s engine in the background.
“Going to pick Whayeb up oo binroo7 Avenues; madri shino yabi min hnak.”
“Okay, have fun,” Jawhara took a sip of the hot tea. It gushed down her throat, leaving the sweet taste of cardamom and sugar to linger on her tongue. There was nothing she loved more than her morning tea.
“Inshallah; you too Joojti,” Mbarak grinned into the phone, and they both said their good-byes and take-cares before hanging up.

Wahab raced down the stairs when he heard Mbarak honk the horn. His mother stopped him right before he was about to open the door to leave. “Wain 3ala Allah?” Um Wahab asked.
Wahab kissed the crown of her head and told her he was going with Mbarak to the Avenues.
“Wilderasa?” she called out, irritated.
“Ba3dain, yuma,” Wahab opened the door and quickly rushed out before his mother could pester him about his studies. He climbed into the passenger seat of Mbarak’s Silverado and lit a cigarette as soon as they drove off.
The guys puffed on their cigarettes and listened to 3abood 5owaja in silence. “Ya Zeenaha Ayamah Oo Ma7la Leyaleeeh Yoom Ashragat Shams Il-Hana Fee Semaaaya! Sha3rah 3ala Katfiii Oo Kaffi Bayadeeh, Yiraded Al7aaani Weyesma3 ‘3enaaaya!”
“A5aiiiih!” Wahab sighed as he tapped his palm against the ledge of the open window. The cool breeze poured into the car, lacing itself into the thick cigarette smoke. To Mbarak and Wahab, these drives were just as pleasurable as sitting by the sea; the only element that was missing was the invigorating scent of the salty sea. They both sang along to the music, something which Nawaf and 3ammar saw as a sin because according to them, no one could attempt to sing 3abood 5owaja’s songs but 3abood 5owaja himself.
When they reached the Avenues, they parked in no time and strolled into the mall. They loved walking around malls when they were empty; the calming silence filling the wide walkways was always more enjoyable than the busy afternoons of pushing people to get through to the shops.

Wahab motioned for Mbarak to follow him into iCity. The colorful iPods and laptops decorated the shelves, making it hard for Wahab to decide which iPod he wanted to get Fajer; there were so many styles and colors with different capacities. He remembered Fajer’s iPod – a pink 4th generation Nano. He settle for a similar one, but he chose a striking sapphire blue color to remind her of the sea. As he paid for the iPod, the sales clerk informed him of the free engraving promotion – Wahab could engrave just about anything he wanted on the back of the iPod. He figured it would give the gift a nice personal touch, so he agreed. Mbarak helped him come up with a catchy phrase to put on the back of the iPod, and in a matter of ten minutes, the engraving was done and the guys went on their way to do a little more shopping before the mall became crowded.

+++++ 3abood 5owaja – Roo7i Fedaak (Ehda2 5a9 ;*) +++++

Bring a tiny hammer, im sure ACE Hardware sells them, pound on my tooth until its broken again, then use those dentist clips, pull out the tooth… and HURL IT AGAINST THE WALL!!!!
Maybe THEN my tooth will stop hurting me badly!!! MA SARAT! WHAT ON EARTH IS Hurting haa? mo they took the nerver out? Mo [...]

My tooth hurt alot today. ALOT ALOT…
I had to drag my self to a dentist, i have not seen one in 5 years… hence im in this much pain.
He takes one look at the tooth, says this needs a root canal without even seeing the Xray, the Xray showed that even though the tooth has [...]

People think that a librarian job , is a dull, lame career which involve only books arrangement and reading the whole day long.

Mbarak washed his hands in the marble sink and splashed his face with cold water. He patted his face dry with a hand towel, and when he brought his face up to look at himself in the mirror, he heard muffled sounds coming from the dining room.
He pressed his ear gently against the crack of the door and strained to hear the inaudible voices of Huda and Reem. All he could hear was a loud “La2!” and fragments of words. He frowned and held his breath only to hear the words “Bint”, “Hara”, and “Rifeej”. Mbarak furiously twisted the hand towel around his fingers and threw it into the small straw basket. ‘It’s one thing to talk about me, but to talk about Jawhara is completely unnecessary!’ he thought to himself.
He pulled down the brass door handle and stormed into the dining room where Reem and Huda had suddenly shut up, forks in mid-air.
“Ana mashi,” Mbarak snapped.
Huda stood up from her seat, the shock of possibly having been found out settling in her chest. “Wain, 7abeebi? Ma kalait! Reem msawya 5osh 7ilo” she lied, trying to sweeten the tone of her voice as much as she could.
Mbarak put his hand up in protest. “Akramkum Allah,” he said quietly before he turned around and headed out the door.

Reem’s jaw dropped in utter shock as she watched Mbarak walk out the door and slam it behind him. Her mother turned to her and whispered, “T’hagain sima3?”
“Laa?!” Reem dropped her fork on the table angrily, “Shraayich??”
“Ga9ray 7issich,” Huda warned sternly, pushing herself away from the table. She stood up and paced to the living room where she finally sat down on the plush creamy sofa.
Reem followed her mother, flailing her hands every which way and cursing Jawhara.
“Shasawi feehum ya3ni?” her mother retorted, “Gooleeli shasawi?”
Reem huffed furiously and flung herself onto the couch, tears stinging her eyes. “Nothing,” she mumbled. Her thoughts raced to her previous relationships – 3abdulla.. Jaber.. 5alid.. They’d all ended the same way; they’d warn her about her long tongue countless times until she got burned. This time was no different. A tear threatened to roll down Reem’s cheek, but she bit her quivering lip and inhaled the sweet scent of musk that she’d rubbed on her wrists earlier.

Mbarak walked into his chalet to find Wahab laying on the couch and watching TV. Wahab turned his head up at Mbarak and asked, “How was the lunch?”
“Zbala,” Mbarak growled.
“Giltlik,” Wahab affirmed, sitting up and turning the TV volume down, “Sh9ar?”
Mbarak told Wahab about everything from the nosey questions to him eavesdropping on Huda and Reem. Wahab shook his head in disappointment and ran the “I Told You So” record for Mbarak.
“Adri; please mali 5ilg ilm3ayar,” Mbarak grumbled, “T’3adait?”
“La, tawni ga3id,” Wahab smiled, stretching his legs across the brown leather sofa.
“5anroo7 nakel gabel la n7ader,” Mbarak suggested sheepishly.
“Nakel?” Wahab turned away from the TV and laughed a deep belly laugh, “Inta mo tawwik bale3?”
Mbarak chuckled and threw his pack of cigarettes at the crook of Wahab’s shoulder. “Ma t’hanait walla; 3ugub illi sima3ta!”
“Take it as a lesson learned,” Wahab smiled and pushed himself off the leather sofa. “McDonald’s?”
“Ya5i, malait min McDonald’s! This weekend alone destroyed 3 weeks at the gym wilsibba hal McDonald’s!”
“Killa junk food in Bnaider,” Wahab shrugged, “Shrayik nakil bildeera a7san?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Mbarak sighed and sank into the auburn armchair, “Yalla, get dressed.”
While Wahab went into the bedroom to change his clothes, Mbarak called Jawhara. She picked up after the first ring, and he was overjoyed to hear her voice.
“Wainich, Joojti?” he spoke into the phone, a smile forming on his lips.
“Tawna 6al3een min Avenues. Mita btiyoon?” Jawhara frowned, struggling with the many shopping bags dangling from her arm.
“Ba3ad shway,” Mbarak replied. He continued to talk to her with one-word answers, his mind too busy thinking of a way to tell her about the lunch incident earlier without upsetting her. Before they hung up, Mbarak said, “Jawhara I need to talk to you about something.”
Jawhara chewed on her lower lip and frowned, “Shfeek?”
“Ba3dain agoolich,” Mbarak sighed, feeling like someone had punched him in the stomach.
“Is everything ok?” Jawhara pressed, her heart racing. She hated it when anyone kept her hanging and waiting to know what the problem was.
“Ma fee shay, Jojo; akalmich ba3dain,” Mbarak said quickly before telling her he had to go.

Jawhara held the phone in her hand and stared at “Something 7ilo ;* disconnected” until the text disappeared from the screen. She sighed heavily and Fajer turned to her, taking some of her shopping bags and loading them into the trunk of her car.
“Shfeech?” Fajer asked, worried that her friend’s relationship was spiraling down to a basket of heartaches already.
“Mbarak madri shfeeh,” Jawhara furrowed her brow, ”He says he needs to talk to me about something.”
“Waiiih 3abali 3indich salfa!” Fajer laughed as she walked around to get into the driver’s seat.
“Madri, Fajoor; I’m scared,” Jawhara confided in her best friend, “You know how guys say they need to talk to you, and then all of a sudden they start saying stuff like ‘I don’t think this is working out’ or something like that.”
“Babe, you’ve only known him for, what, three days?” Fajer smiled and pinched Jawhara’s cheek, “Don’t stress. I don’t think he’s going to say anything like that.”
“I hope not,” Jawhara rested her head against the beige strap of her seatbelt and stared out the window, watching the colorful numbered parking pillars disappear and turn into scrawny trees swaying in the blue-grey sky.

“You’re seriously thinking about telling her?” Wahab stared at Mbarak from the bedroom doorway, dumbfounded, “Tista3be6?”
“Shrayik Wahab?” Mbarak stood up and picked up his car keys from the coffee table. “I have to be honest.”
“Yeah, well your honesty is gonna cost you,” Wahab replied, pulling his T-shirt over his head.
“I’d rather be honest now than have her find out from someone later,” Mbarak’s eyes widened, “7abil ilchethb g9eer.”
“Who the hell is gonna tell her?” Wahab slid his feet into his sandals and picked up his overnight bag.
“Uhhh, you seriously think Reem and 5alti Huda would keep it to themselves?” Mbarak raised an eyebrow as they both headed out the door, locking the chalet behind them.
“Madri..” Wahab mumbled.

They drove back to the city in silence, thinking about their girls and how pulling the chalet out of the relationship will affect it. It is true that many Kuwaiti men have experienced the blinding love – where the girl is the center of their universe and everything else just revolves around her, and where diwaniyas and 3azayem are of little importance. But Mbarak and Wahab had always let the sea come between them and whoever was in their lives. It was like the sea was their true love; understanding their needs and satisfying their emotions, and best of all, listening without talking back. But this time, the sea was their glue. Without the magnificent ocean, Mbarak and Jawhara wouldn’t be, and neither would Fajer and Wahab. Like peeling off the binding spine of a novel, the pages will undoubtedly fall apart and fly away in the slightest breeze.
Mbarak nervously drummed his fingers on the leather steering wheel, thinking about whether or not he should tell Jawhara about the lunch incident. In both cases, he would feel terrible – if he did tell her, she’d most likely stop talking to him, and if he didn’t tell her, she’d find out eventually from someone else and it would be worse. In a lose-lose situation, what was he to do?

Mbarak drove into 3dailiya, twisting and turning through the streets that led to Wahab’s house. When they finally reached Wahab’s brightly lit white home, Wahab thanked Mbarak for the ride, grabbed his overnight bag and was about to turn around to walk inside when he warned Mbarak again, “Barook, min 9ijji – latgoollaha.”
Mbarak shrugged his shoulders and called back, “Allah kareem!” and drove off into the dim backstreet.
Wahab stood in front of the gates of his house, staring at the building as if he was unfamiliar with it. He dreaded the feeling of pushing the large carved wooden door open; he compared his house to Pandora’s Box – once the door was opened, the suffocating emotions and stress tackled him and ate him alive. Wahab took a deep breath, absorbing the intoxicating fumes of the ful plants that his mother had planted so many years ago. He remembered how simple life was back then; as simple as a ful flower plucked fresh from the garden and left to sit in an old Kraft cheese glass filled with water. Now, the turmoil consumed him and his family, and he had to find a way to clear his space and make room for his blossom, Fajer.
Wahab called her, and though he was elated to talk to her, his words were slow and slurry, as if he was winding down from a long night of belligerent drinking.
“Shfeek, Wahabi?” Fajer cooed into the phone, shaking the contents of her shopping spree out of their bags.
“Ma feeni shay, Fajoorti; I’m just tired,” he sighed, “Sh’hal 9oot?”
“Matshoof shar,” she pouted, “Sharait a’3rath!”
A real smile lit up Wahab’s face for the first time that day. “Oh yeah? What’d you buy?”
Fajer was taken aback by his question – none of the guy’s she’d ever met had ever showed any interest in her love for shopping or her purchases, and with excitement, she rattled off the list of things she’d bought.
“No iPod?” Wahab laughed as he paced around the garden, not wanting the conversation to end.
“Weeee!!” Fajer exclaimed, “I totally forgot about the iPod! Jawhara didn’t remind me; waaaaay!”
“La tista3yelain 3alaih,” Wahab said kindly, “Bynazloon the 16GB Nano next week.”
“16GB is too much for me,” Fajer giggled, “Ma 3indi wayid songs – I just put the ones I know I’m going to listen to oo a3aleg 3alaihum until I switch them again.”
“May5alef,” Wahab chuckled, “Ta3alay, what’s your favorite animal?”
“Faj2a!” she smiled, feeling her cheeks turn rosy pink, “I love penguins.”
“Penguins?” Wahab laughed out loud, “Sh’hal fa9la!”
“Laish? They’re cuuuute! Have you ever seen ‘Happy Feet’?” Fajer asked.
“I’ve never had time,” Wahab admitted, grinding the soles of his sandals into the green grass.
“Oh.. Well we’ll see it inshallah, and then you’ll understand why I love them so much,” Fajer smiled, her heart swelling with anticipation of dates and long phone calls that she’d been deprived of in the past.
“Inshallah,” Wahab said quietly. “Can I see you tomorrow?”
Fajer bit her lower lip, suppressing her huge excited grin that she knew he’d hear in her voice. “Sure; inta shoof when you’re free. Bes ma nidgar in6awel.”
“I know,” Wahab grinned, “Walla lo two minutes bes ashoofich a6ayeb 5a6ri.”
Fajer’s ears tingled with heat, “Aww, Wahabi.. Inshalla may9eer 5a6rik illa 6ayeb.”
“Ba3ad 3umri,” Wahab whispered. “Inzain I have to go inside, 9arli sina wagef barra oo 7addi bardan. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Inshallah,” Fajer replied, and they hung up. She swooned at the thought of seeing him again, and in an instant, Fajer felt like she was 15 years old again, experiencing her first real crush. That night, she lay in bed with a smile that kept broadening at the flashing beep of her mobile phone, alerting her of Wahab’s sweet text messages. It didn’t take long for Fajer to drift off to sleep; her happy heart felt as light as air, not weighing her down for the first time in long lonely months.

Since i first laid my hands on my first sega console, the Sega Master System, i have played this game, and played and played, wanting to finish it…
Now, 17 years later… with the miracle of emulators, i have FINALLY been able to reach the last stage, the last maze, and the last boss.. Death Adder!!!
This [...]

I have not been to marina crescent in like… for ever…
But today, i was walking with Bu Tottee when we find this newly constructed place, Silver, Modern, Red lights, Drumming music blaring, shabab shabab shabab standing out side of it, and what seems like club bouncers in black standing next to its door, of course they could [...]

I’ve been tagged by PaLoMiNo, so here is a list of questions for you to answer:1. Who are you? 2. Are we friends? 3. Something I have and YOU want? 4. Give me a nickname and explain why you picked it. 5. Describe me in one word. 6. What was your first …

Most of the time, we get angry over rational reasons. Now, Anger is a normal emotional phase, which we get through from time to time, that’s for sure. But there are days when one can get REALLY upset for nothing. In another word, have you ever s…

Have you all seen the latest ads on TV:

حملة الرحمة للرفق بالإنسان

OhMyGod I was so touched I had to swallow a big lump that was rising in my throat!!

Ok I admit, I’m a bit sensitive- sue me, but these ads are just… I don’t know.. masterpieces!!

Sara7a 3afya 3laihom, we need these positive, powerful little msgs that speak to ppl’s hearts and conscience, o Allah yesle7 iljamee3.

.
.
.
.

I’m loading the emails submitted by all of you, and let me tell you… 7addah 3abaalah :-/

I finished writing the 13th email chan at3ab, o decided since I have some free time to write a post instead!

.
.
.
.

I don’t use MSN, nor facebook.
Mobile o text msgs o yallah!!…

Don’t shake your heads at me and say al7een 3ndich blog o 7altich 7ala o readers o hal sowalif ma 3indich msn?

Eee ma 3indy, o ma3arif aslun how to add a contact :-/

Yesterday however, I decided to check my Glitter email through msn. O faj2a a small screen popped in my face and it was one of my readers!!! Heheheh 7addy ekhtara3t, o 7addy estanast at the same time. Thank you Louj for a lovely conversation :-*

.
.
.
.

He turns to me and says:”Khalas. Entaha il mawthoo3” !!

HEEEEEYYYY!!!
But i’m not quite done!!
I was just warming up and I still have some killer opinions on the subject that will make me win the argument.

So I try to say: “But i’m not finished. If you would just…… “

Only to be cut off with this manic look of his. “ENOUGH, I said khalas, I don’t want to talk about it!“, and he storms out.

!!!!!

As I stand still in shock, unable to understand what just happened, my blood starts to bubble. Offffff 7addy 7addy m3a9sa.

90 minutes later, he calls:
“Ha Glitter, ma gelteele, what are your plans for today? Re7tay 3ind ommich? “

“Hala 7beebi. Yes I was going to, bs hawwant. Madree shfeeni my heart felt heavy so I decided to stay home“

Just then it hit me:
Mo ya fal7a, he’s the reason you’re so upset!!

Oh!
I was so engrossed in Grey’s Anatomy that I forgot all about our earlier argument.
shasawy al7een?
Ashayyin ilnafs 3alaih?

His voice softens: “And what are you doing all alone? “

6aaaaaaaaf.
Just forget about it.
Ma yeswa at’thayag o aza3lah.

I sigh and say: “Nothing. Watching TV. Grey’s Anatomy“

“Ok 7beebti tabeen shy? “

“La, salamtik“

Shoof 7beebi Mr.X:
Tra this time you got off EASY!
Pls la it3eedha and give me a chance to say what’s on my mind next time.
Thank you very much.

.
.
.
.

هيلة يا رمااااانة
هيلة، هيلة يا رماااانة

أم متعب زعلااااانة

منهو يراضيييييها
أنا، أنا أراضيييييييها

وبوووسة أهدييييييها

*EmmmmWaaaaaaaah*

A little fact about me… im a freak magnet!
No seriously. My friends told me this. They say they never encounter strange things or see strange people unless they are with me. I do not know why.
So yesterday, after posting about my worst lunch experience ever, i remembered this birthday party… it is one freaky one as [...]

I recall incidents when i was teenager, there was a very rude friend of my moms who was very fond of an ugly silk shirt striped with cream, purple, and gold… i remember she was acting as rude as ever, o mom ga3da itjamelha, i was boiling, so i smile at her and ask her “khalty? Qameesich [...]

“5alti Huda!” Mbarak blurted out, distinguishing her sharp facial features. Huda was one of Um Mbarak’s friends; they were close for about three years until Huda filed for divorce from her husband and cut off her ties with everyone in an attempt to renew her life. And renew her life she did; Mbarak noticed her fuller cheeks, and her nose that was once a little pudgy was now so pointy she could skewer meat on it.
“Shloonik, 7abeebi? Shloon ummik?” Huda’s lips formed a tight smile.
“Walla b5air, il7mdilla. Intaw shloonkum? 3asakum b5air,” Mbarak poured out the formalities, his fingers twiddling in discomfort.
“7mdilla 3ala kil 7al,” Huda replied, “Binti Reem tgool shafitik bes ma kanat mt2akda itha inta wala la2.”
”Ee 5alti,” Mbarak laughed nervously, ”Ana oo rab3i yeena n’3ayer jaw..”
“Zain tsawoon, walla,” Huda shook her head, “Iljaw sh7alaaata!”
“Ee walla, 5alti,” Mbarak smiled, and Wahab pretended to cough severely.
Huda sensed Wahab’s uneasiness. “Inzain, 7abeebi, mabi a6awel 3alaikum. Ta3alaw t’3adaw 3indina bacher itha taboon.”
“Inshalla 5alti,” Mbarak replied, as Wahab’s eyes widened. Reem smiled smugly at Mbarak’s positive reply and waved at him flirtatiously before walking away with her mother.

“Tista3be6? Shino ‘Inshalla 5alti’?!” Wahab snapped once the women were out of sight.
“Shagoolaha ya3ni, ’La, 5alti, bintich zbala; mabi akel wiyakum’?” Mbarak chuckled, unwinding the sheesha hose from the glass body.
“Something like that!” Wahab cried, pushing the hot coals around with the metal tongs.
“Whayeb, yalla 3ad. It’s just lunch!”
“La, mo just lunch. Efham, ya thaki! You can go to this so-called lunch alone,” Wahab retorted.
“Winta shbitsawi?” Mbarak exhaled the fragrant smoke into the cool night air.
“Inshalla akel trab, bes ma at’3ada wiya hal ashkal,” Wahab raised his eyebrows.
“3ala ra7tik,” Mbarak sighed, and passed the sheesha hose to Wahab.
The rest of the hour was spent in deafening silence, except for the sound of the bubbling sheesha that soon died when the coals turned to ashes.

That night, Mbarak slept with a heavy heart. Knowing that he wouldn’t be seeing Jawhara first thing in the morning bothered him, but not more than the fact that he’d so eagerly replaced her presence with that of two women that he couldn’t stand.

The sun rose in Kuwait City, dawning on a new day for Jawhara and Fajer. As planned, they’d eaten their breakfast as quickly as they could and got dressed to go shopping. Fajer’s car slowed down to a halt in front of Jawhara’s home, and she honked the horn twice, signaling for Jawhara to come downstairs. In a matter of moments, Jawhara appeared at the black iron gates, dressed in heather grey leggings and a cotton-candy pink cashmere tunic. She hated getting dressed up to go shopping, because the tediousness of taking off layers and layers of clothing when trying something on made the shopping experience less enjoyable. Fajer, who had developed a habit of never trying things on, wore her favorite pair of jeans and an oversized red slouchy top.
“Red? Mo min 3awaydich!” Jawhara commented as she crouched into the leather passenger seat.
“Yeah, I found it hanging in the back of my closet oo kisar 5a6ri,” Fajer smiled behind her huge sunglasses, “Laish? Does it look bad?”
“No; bil 3aks!” Jawhara assured her, “You look hot!”
“Intay hot,” Fajer giggled as they drove off to the Avenues. The morning weather was perfect – it was sunny, but because of the nippy breeze, it was hard to catch a ray of warmth. Nothing complemented the weather more perfectly than a steaming cup of Toffee Nut Latte from Starbucks 3dailiya and a playlist of M7amed 3abdu jalsat.
“I think our drives are the only thing I love about the city,” Jawhara concluded.
“I know, 9a7?” Fajer agreed, “A7la shay when we cruise. Just wait until winter really rolls in – a5aiiiih! Those are the best cruises.”
The girls reminisced about the winter days of the previous year, where they’d go for late-night cruises. They’d wear their comfiest sweats and hoodies and listen to R’n’B while driving around residential areas, deciding which houses they liked and which they didn’t, which cars they’d like to steal and which ones they wouldn’t be caught dead in.
The drive to the Avenues was purposely slow – the girls wanted to enjoy the sunshine streaming through the windshield before cooping themselves up in the mall all afternoon.

Mbarak woke up with a throbbing headache and a queasy stomach – he knew sheesha on an empty stomach was a bad idea. It was then he remembered the events of last night and how Wahab got upset with him, and how he’d put himself in an awkward position having to go to Huda’s chalet for lunch. He knew Wahab wasn’t the kind of person that held grudges, so he wasn’t worried about Wahab at all. What worried him was the kinds of intrusive questions he knew he’d be asked; about his family, about his career, and worst of all, about marriage.
Mbarak was always bombarded with questions pertaining to marriage, whether with his family or relatives. The truth was that he wanted to get married and settle down so badly, but he wanted to find the right girl for him and not go through an arranged marriage – or worse, have someone forced upon him. So the answer to the inevitable marriage question was “Allah kareem; illi Allah katba by9eer, inshalla.”. He hoped that that answer would satisfy Huda today, and that she wouldn’t press for more details that were none of her business.

By the time Mbarak showered and got dressed, it was already 1.30 PM. Surprisingly, Wahab was still asleep – he never slept in, especially since it was their last morning. Mbarak left his car keys on the table in case Wahab wanted to go out. Before he headed out, he gave Jawhara a call to make sure she was doing well.
“Barook, mita bit7adroon?” Jawhara asked while flipping through racks of colorful clothes at H&M.
“Ba3ad shway; bnit’3ada oo bn7ader inshalla,” Mbarak replied.
“Inta oo Wahab? Wain btit’3adoon?” Jawhara giggled into the phone.
Mbarak felt horrible lying to Jawhara. “Madri, inshoof wagoolich. Ok, Jojo?”
“Ok.. Take care,” Jawhara smiled.
“Intay ba3ad, witha tabeen shay, call me,” Mbarak told her before hanging up and heading out to Huda’s chalet.

Reem had spent all morning primping and pampering for Mbarak’s visit. She’d blow-dried her hair and used a curling iron to curl her hair into luscious golden spirals. She sat patiently at her dressing table and carefully applied her liquid eyeliner and mascara, and looked through her oversized make-up bag for her favorite lipstick.
Huda walked by Reem’s room and smiled at her daughter’s reflection in the mirror. “Ee 5aleech chithee! Tekashe5ay oo tesane3ay; 5al yishoofich!” she beamed.
“Adriii, mama,” Reem smiled hopefully, “Shalbis? Madri shalbis!”
“Libsay shay mratab,” her mother tapped her fingers on the wooden door frame, “Bes mo wayid over.”
“Inshalla, mama,” Reem nodded slyly and got up to see what she had hanging in her closet that was appropriate enough to wear for lunch without seeming like she’d tried too hard. She opted for a sequined black velour training suit and her sparkly sandals.
When she walked down the stairs, her mother complimented her on the way she looked, running her fingers through her big swirly curls. As if on cue, Mbarak knocked on the door, indicating his arrival.

“Ya 7ayallah min yaaana!” Huda smiled and led Mbarak into the chalet.
“Allah yi7ayeech, 5alti,” Mbarak replied, gagging at the formalities that he hated so much. He scoped out the chalet’s décor – it was so nicely decorated with a shabby-chic seaside motif, with white-washed wooden furniture and giant seashells and candles scattered on the low-rise glass coffee table. The dining table was already set for three – he was going to ask whether her husband would be joining them for lunch, but he bit his tongue when he remembered the gruesome divorce.
Reem sat quietly and lowered her head while Huda asked Mbarak about his family and how everyone was doing. She imagined herself at her own 5i6ba, in a beautiful yet simple dress, surrounded by his family and waiting for him to arrive and ease her tension.

Lunch was served almost immediately. The table was covered with dishes of food; steaming m6abag zbaidi, prawn curry, golden m7ammar, grilled salmon filets, wok-tossed vegetables, and a large bowl of a delicious looking salad. Everything looked appetizing, and the array of smells made Mbarak’s mouth water.
Reem tried several times to serve him or fill up his glass of water, but Mbarak politely declined. Huda’s urging glances made Reem feel helpless, and she shrugged a little, not knowing how to show Mbarak that she was a worthy candidate for his love and attention.
Everything Mbarak ate, he loved. The m7amar was his favorite – the crispy red 7akooka lay on top of the fluffy orange rice. When he bit into it, the saffron flavor melted on his tongue, leaving him to discover another flavor that he’d never tasted with m7amar before – orange zest. The prawn curry was cooked to perfection. Mbarak was a seafood connoisseur and it bothered him when fine seafood was overcooked. The prawns were nothing close to rubbery, and the curry itself had a tantalizing taste to it; something like lime and chili, and of course, the perfect amount of garlic.
He ate slowly and chewed well, savoring every last bit of food. Huda babbled on about the poor situation of the stock market, and Mbarak nodded every so often and spoke a few sentences in response. Reem was lost in his very being, staring at him while he ate, smiling when he spoke, and poking her salad around her plate with a silver fork.

And then, the unavoidable happened; Huda opened up the subject of marriage – a can of worms Mbarak had so cleverly tried to evade opening.
“Mo nawi titzawaj?” Huda asked hopefully, glancing at Reem from the corner of her eye.
Reem’s heart raced waiting for his response, and when Mbarak swallowed his food, he cleared his throat and answered, “La 5alti, taw innaas.”
Agitation washed over Huda as she quickly said, “Wee, ma 3indik salfa! Ilnas mayteen 3alzawaj winta tgool taw innaas! Inzain, ma 3indik wa7da b5a6rik?”
Mbarak laughed out loud and quickly settled down, not wanting to seem rude. “La 5alti, min wainli?”
Reem was about to snort and shout ‘Laa? Then who was that girl you were cuddling the other day when you ignored me??’, but for once, something told her it was in her best interest to keep her mouth shut. Instead, she smiled at his answer and lowered her head.
Mbarak took a sip of his water and excused himself to go to the restroom. When Reem and Huda heard the bathroom door close, Reem was about ready to explode.
“Mama! Shino ya3ni ‘min wainli’!! Yige9 3alaina, hatha??” her voice raised well above a whisper.
“Wee, min 9ijjich intay!” Huda curled her wrist, “7esbalich yi7ibha theech? 9adgeeni, shahar oo beyge6ha ba7ar!”
“Shdaraach?” Reem frowned, picking up a cherry tomato and biting into it.
“Ra7 tshoofeen; oo goolay ummich ma galat!” Huda smiled cunningly.
“I hope you’re right,” Reem swallowed a lump and stared out of the window at the crashing sea.

Fajer’s heart raced a mile a minute, and her mind spun into thoughts, trying to retrace her steps and see if she’d done anything that may have insulted Wahab. She couldn’t remember doing anything wrong; she was dressed appropriately, she hadn’t made any physical advances, and she was polite to him. ‘What is it, then?’ she wondered.
“huh?? shsawait!!!” Fajer texted back, her stomach churning while waiting for a reply.
After a long moment of waiting, her phone finally beeped with a text message. Fajer opened it, expecting to find a long-winded text of angry words and accusations. Instead, only three words were etched on the bright white light of her phone’s screen: “5alaiteeni olah 3alaich ;(“
Fajer laughed out loud and let out a sigh of relief; not only was her conscience clear, but also Wahab was a sweetheart. She texted back: “waay 5ara3tni wahabo! i miss u too walla ma weddi arid ildeera ;((“
Her phone beeped shortly after with another text message: “may5alef fajoor bacher eltheher bn7ader ana oo barok :) wenshalla ashoofech soon”
She replied “enshallah” and placed her mobile in the cup holder of her car, keeping her focus on the traffic and the distance between her and Jawhara’s cars; she didn’t want to lose her way or lose the clear transmission and end up listening to crackling music.
As soon as the girls reached the turn into Qur6uba’s main street, Jawhara called Fajer. “Tiyeen 3indi?” she asked.
“Yeah, bes lazim arid ilbeit asalem 3ala my parents first oo 3ala6ool ayi,” Fajer replied, and took a right turn onto the street where her home was.

To Fajer’s disappointment, her parents weren’t home. According to Lucy, her nanny, they’d gone to an 3azeema and wouldn’t be home until much later evening. So, Fajer called her mother to inform her of her visit to Jawhara’s house. Once she got the green light, Fajer changed into her comfy grey sweats and a bright white T-shirt and took off to Jawhara’s house.
Fajer and Jawhara didn’t need to ring doorbells and wait outside for an invitation when they visited one another. As if they were family, they barged into one another’s houses and clambered up the stairs into their rooms, and helped themselves to whatever was in the fridge without having to ask. Of course, it took a while for this to become acceptable – in the beginning of Jawhara and Fajer’s friendship, there was no way either of them would set foot in one another’s houses if they weren’t at home. Now, it became normal for Jawhara to come home from her errands and find Fajer in her room, watching TV or reading magazines.

When Fajer reached Jawhara’s house, she did as she normally would and walked into Jawhara’s chocolate brown room. Jawhara, sprawled on the floor, was surrounded with packets of gum, strawberry snake candy, M&M’s, potato chips, and many other treats.
“Did you rob a baqala?” Fajer laughed, “What’s all this?”
“I’m hating the deera already,” Jawhara moped, pouring a handful of vibrant Skittles into her hand and cramming them into her mouth.
“Tell me about it,” Fajer sighed, ripping the wrapper off a Snickers bar and taking a big bite. The sweet sluice of the caramel ran along her tongue and the roof of her mouth, and she closed her eyes in bliss as the melted chocolate remnants slithered down her throat. “Are you tasting the rainbow?”
Jawhara nodded matter-of-factly and stuck her tongue out at Fajer, revealing blotches of yellow, orange, purple, and green. “Is this what we’re gonna do for the rest of the evening?”
Fajer shrugged, “It’s too late to go out. Shinsawi?”
“Be vegetables,” Jawhara rolled onto her back on the plush ivory carpet, “It’s what we do best. Besides, aren’t you tired? Ana jismi mitkaser from this weekend.”
“I’m tired, but I’m more bored than tired,” Fajer complained and then suggested, “5al nig3ad 3al balcony?”
“Balcony it is,” Jawhara grunted as she picked herself off the floor, grabbing a bag of Thai Sweet Chili chips as she and Fajer walked out onto Jawhara’s balcony.
The two wicker lounge chairs that the girls had bought from IKEA were in the same position as they’d always been – side by side, but slightly turned to one another at the foot. In between the chairs stood a matching end table with a tiled top that was perfect for the summer, when their icy glasses of sugar-free Red Bull could dribble moisture onto the pale tiles without ruining the aged bamboo of the table. Jawhara placed the oversized bag of chips onto the end table and lay down on the contoured lounge chair. Both girls stared up at the night sky, their eyes searching for stars. But, they couldn’t see a single one; the city sky was like a smoggy pesticide that had been sprayed to kill all of the white fireflies that used to dance in the sky. Fajer’s heart sank, and she pulled out her phone to text message Wahab: “there are no stars in the sky ;(”
Her phone beeped moments later with a message that read: “thats cuz ur eyes stole them ;)”
She sighed heavily and smiled; how come he was never this flirtatious when she was around him? ‘I guess absence does make the heart grow fonder,’ she mused.

“I miss 3abood 5owaja,” Jawhara said before she crunched on a potato chip.
“9ij? I figured you’d be missing Mbarak,” Fajer teased, reaching into the foil bag for a handful of chips.
“I do miss him, silly; shrayich ya3ni? Bes I’ll miss hearing 3abood 5owaja’s songs,” Jawhara sighed when she remembered the night she and Mbarak swam in the sea.
“Yeah, well, at least your iPod is working. Remind me to buy a new one sometime this week,” Fajer noted.
Jawhara licked her lips, moistening them from the dry night air. Her tongue tasted the tiny chili specks that remained from the Sweet Chili chips and a hint of her favorite lipstick, Chanel #4. Her mobile beeped with a message from Mbarak: “laitek ma3i saheren lail elhawa kella.. ;r”
She wrinkled her nose and read the message out loud to Fajer. “I really wish we could go back. It hasn’t been two hours here and already we’re bored to death,” Jawhara grumbled.
“What to do, babe? Bacher il9ib7 inroo7 shopping.. shrayich?” Fajer suggested.
“Sounds good,” Jawhara nodded slowly, swallowing the last of the crumbs from the bag of chips.

Back in Bnaider, Mbarak and Wahab decided to bring out the sheeshas for a smoke in the cool night air. Mbarak wasn’t a fan of sheesha, but he only smoked it in the chalet. The bright orange coals sat on the perforated silver foil, heating up the sticky sweet tobacco that was packed tightly in the clay head of the sheesha. Wahab took a drag from the long colorful hose, and the water in the curvy glass body bubbled furiously. He exhaled the heady scent of sweet red apples, and was instantly reminded of Fajer’s sweet apple scent. The other day he’d asked her what it was, and she shyly answered that it was her Disney Princess Snow White shower gel, hence the delicate apple fragrance.
The guys’ winding thoughts were cut short when two women approached their chalet. One of them, Mbarak recognized in the pitch dark night, was Reem. She was fully clothed for the first time that week, dressed in an electric blue terrycloth lounge set. The woman next to her looked much older, yet dressed as if she was Reem’s age. Her hair was dyed golden brown, and she wore a burgundy velour hoodie with matching drawstring pants.
“Wai3; laish ya3ni? Laish?” Wahab whispered angrily to Mbarak.
Mbarak shushed him as the women walked nearer to them. The older woman turned to Mbarak and said, “Mbarak, shloonik?”
He quickly exhaled the thick sheesha smoke and stood up, almost toppling his plastic chair over. As the woman stomped in the sand, moving closer to the porch light, Mbarak recognized her face.

+++++ M7amed 3abdu – Laitik Ma3i Saher +++++

The machboos was the best they’d ever tasted; the flavorful saffron rice and the succulent golden-brown chicken melted in their mouths and settled their growling stomachs. The patio table was covered with bowls of “machboos salad”, as Wahab called it, and small dishes of tongue-tickling ma3booch.
“You’ve never had machboos salad before?” Wahab asked Fajer as he watched her poke through the salad with her fork. The small triangles of orange carrots, bright green cucumbers, lettuce strips and juicy tomatoes were drizzled in a sweet vinegar dressing.
“Not really; no,” Fajer blushed, putting a heaping spoonful of salad onto her plate. She wasn’t a big fan of carrots in her salad, but she figured she’d try it anyway. After mixing the yellow rice with the shredded chicken and the colorful salad, Fajer spooned the mixture into her mouth and chewed.
Wahab smiled at her, “Ta5le6een kilshay wiya ba3ath?”
“I wouldn’t talk, Mr. Barbecue-ketchup-and-chili-sauce!” she replied after she’d swallowed the rice.
“Hey, thaak sauce – ‘3air!” Wahab tried to defend himself.
“La, la, nafs ilshay!” Fajer giggled, “Here, try it.”
“La, ma7ib chithee!” he made a face, “I like everything on it’s own.”
“Hey, may9eer, I tried your nasty sauce thing!”
“Al7een 9ar nasty 3ugub ma 6ayarteeh?” Wahab laughed and gave in, “Fine; just one bite.”
Fajer pushed her plate towards him and she helped him scoop the combination into his spoon. After moments of watching Wahab chew, she heard the sound of appreciation she’d been waiting for and continued eating. “I told you so,” she smiled.

“Jojo, 3alamich ma takleen?” Mbarak asked Jawhara, who was picking the stuffing out of the saffron rice, “A7e6lich chicken?”
She nodded shyly; she felt so timid when eating in front of Mbarak, mainly because she was scared of dropping food onto her clothes.
“Sha7e6lich?” Mbarak asked as he flipped the crispy chicken over, breast side up.
“Only the wings, please,” she blinked, pursing her lips.
“Bes?? It’s so little!” he wrinkled his brow and reached for the wing portions, tearing them off and putting them on Jawhara’s plate.
“Well it’s the only part I really like. Thanks, Barook,” she smiled as she began to nibble on the brown wings.
“Akramkum Allah,” the girls said sweetly after they’d finished eating.
“9e7a oo 3afya; 7ayakum anytime,” Mbarak and Wahab replied.

Clouds swept over Bnaider, blocking the warm sun and allowing the cool breeze to pick up it’s pace. The tide was washing away, the small waves echoing their rumbling sounds to the shore. It was only 4.30 PM, but Jawhara, Fajer, Wahab, and Mbarak were extremely exhausted. They spent long moments staring aimlessly at the bluish-grey sky until Mbarak broke the ice.
“Mita bt7adroon?” he asked, not turning his head away from the somber horizon.
“Ba3ad shway,” Jawhara replied, tilting her head back to stretch her neck, “When the sun sets.”
Wahab turned to Fajer, his smile fading away when he understood the reality of going back to the city; he wouldn’t see Fajer as often as he’d liked, and his workload would probably drown him. His heart sank at the thought of losing the sense of freedom that he enjoyed so much. Exams were coming up in a couple of weeks, and there was no way he could slack off, which probably meant that he wouldn’t be accompanying Mbarak to the chalet next weekend, or the weekend after that.
On impulse, and as if to pacify his racing thoughts, Wahab reached his hand out across the arm of the white plastic chair and slipped it into Fajer’s drooping hand. She let out a short gasp and whipped her face to his, her eyes giving him a questioning look.
Wahab’s lips curled upward, and instantly Fajer felt at ease. The tensed up muscles of her hands relaxed and she let her fingers intertwine with his, and for the first time in a long time, Fajer felt genuinely cared for. They’d been sitting quietly the entire time, each one lost in his or her own thoughts – ‘Akeed he was thinking of me; why else would he hold my hand out of nowhere like that?’ she thought to herself.

Mbarak twisted in his seat to turn on the tiny radio that was never moved out of it’s place. Instantly, 3abood 5owaja’s voice filled the air, completing the vibe that the girls had gotten so accustomed to in the past few days. “Kil Shay Feek Zain, Wint Min Il-Zain A7la.. Ye5’6a3 Il-Zain Lik, Ya Seed Kil Il-Mezayeen!”
Jawhara smiled and closed her eyes, focusing on the rhythm of the drums and the meanings of the words. Mbarak inched closer to her ear and whispered, “Ehdaa2,” the warmth of his breath making her ears prickle. Her smile broadened, and she opened her eyes for just a moment to place her hand into his.
They all stayed that way; quiet but bubbling over with emotions, as the sky turned indigo and one by one, the stars sprouted like tiny white flowers in the sky.

“I think we should be heading back,” Jawhara whispered, trying not to disturb the peace so suddenly, “It’s 7.30.” She looked at Fajer; her head was tipped to the side in what looked like the most uncomfortable way to sleep. Jawhara was reminded of the many times where she’d fall asleep that way on her flights, and the discomfort of an achy neck that she’d have to endure until her muscles relaxed.
“5aleeha; ta3bana,” Wahab said quietly.
“La, we have to head back. Madri shloon bitsoog, bes we have to get back. It’s getting dark,” Jawhara explained. “Fajoor.. Fajoor goomay,” she said softly, gently shaking Fajer’s right shoulder.
Fajer’s eyes fluttered open, and within moments, she shook the drowsiness off and she and Jawhara both headed back to Jawhara’s chalet to pack their bags the second time around.

“I don’t wanna go,” Fajer admitted to Jawhara while folding her sweater.
“Me either, bes shinsawi ba3ad,” Jawhara pouted, “I had fun, though; didn’t you?”
“Ee akeed I had fun, babe. Bes I’m worried about how things will go when we’re back in the city.”
“Shda3wa, Fajoor! It’s gonna be fine; we’ll have their numbers and we’ll talk to them and see them whenever. Mara7 yi6eeroon!”
“Madri, Jooj,” Fajer sighed, “It won’t be the same, though.”
“Of course it won’t,” Jawhara said as she looked out the glass window at the moonlit sea, “It’s never the same when we’re in the city. You know how people are!”
“Yeah.. Allah Kareem,” Fajer zipped up her weekender bag and flopped onto the bed, “You ready?”
“Yeah,” Jawhara hummed as she slipped into her sandals, “Let’s go say bye to the guys.”

The girls walked out onto the grassy garden and peered from around the white concrete wall to see if Wahab and Mbarak were still waiting on the patio. They were, and when Jawhara signaled for them to come over, they hurriedly walked over to the girls.
“Mashyeen?” Mbarak asked sadly.
“Yup,” Jawhara jammed her fists into the kangaroo pockets of her sweater, “Do you guys need anything?”
“Salamatkum,” they replied, and Wahab timidly asked Fajer if he could talk to her in private. Fajer walked along the garden ledge, one foot in front of the other, with her hand on Wahabs shoulder for support.
When they were a considerable distance away, Mbarak pulled out his mobile from the pocket of his shorts and stared at the bright light of it’s screen. “Inzain, 3ashan man6awelha wihya g9eera,” he peered up at Jawhara and smiled his million-dollar smile, “What’s your number?”
Jawhara giggled and shook her head, “Give me your number and I’ll message you.”
“Fregat ya3ni?” Mbarak raised an eyebrow.
“I just wanna make sure that I have yours as well,” Jawhara smiled.
Mbarak couldn’t resist her. “Fine; it’s 99973…”
Jawhara punched the numbers onto the keypad of her mobile, and when Mbarak had finished saying his number, he checked to make sure she’d gotten it right. “Save me under something 7ilo, 3ad,” he winked.
“Will do,” Jawhara blushed, and did exactly that. She saved him as “Something 7ilo ;*”
After they’d said their good-byes, Mbarak wrapped Jawhara in his arms and gave her a long tight hug. “Deeray balich bil6ireej, ok? Latdooseen!”
“Inshallah,” she replied, her voice muffled by his chest. He kissed the top of her head and let go. “Be good!” she called out to him as he waved and smiled.

Fajer and Jawhara made their way to their cars and threw their bags in. Rose climbed into the back seat of Jawhara’s SUV and as soon as everything was settled, Jawhara reversed and followed Fajer’s BMW onto the narrow curvy roads of Bnaider.
Jawhara didn’t want to wait out sending Mbarak a text message as most girls would do, so she pulled out her phone and sent him a text: “thanks for an amazing weekend :)” In less than a minute, her phone beeped with a text from him that read “intay illi thanks :) the moon isn’t smiling tonight cuz u left”.
She looked out of the driver’s seat window up at the sky, her eyes searching for the moon. Funny enough, the moon was at it’s third quarter, so the Man in the Moon didn’t appear.
The drive home was long and tiring, with only the sounds of M7amed 3abdu keeping Jawhara and Fajer alert. Fajer, who was driving closely behind Jawhara, fed off of Jawhara’s iPod station so that they both listened to the same songs. Jawhara’s phone beeped; it was a text from Fajer: “stop changing the songs yuba nabi nisma3 e’3niya kamla!”
“loooool a7ibich ;* next song ehda2” Jawhara punched back into her keypad, and she skimmed through her M7amed 3abdu playlist until she found “Wajh Il-Sa3ad”. Jawhara sang at the top of her lungs, “Yalli ‘3araaamik Fee 5ufoogi Min Kithir Gadrah Yifee’6! Il-Nafs Tandeb 7a’6aha Wil-3ain Tabki 7ayyaha!”

Fajer looked at Jawhara, who was staring at her from the rear-view mirror. She saluted to her, and Fajer’s phone beeped with a text message. When she read it, her face drained of color – it was Wahab. “Fajer sh’hal 7arakat!! 7esbalech illi ga3da tsaweena 9a7, ya3ni??”

+++++ 3abood 5owaja – Kil Shay Feek Zain +++++
+++++ M7amed 3abdu – Wajh Il-Sa3ad +++++

“What’s wrong?” I shook her and got her back from where she was.“No, no! Nothing’s wrong. In fact, everything is incredibly right,” she was glowing.“Please talk. I am really getting worried,” I demanded.“I have to tell you the whole s…

Jawhara grabbed onto the vinyl cushioning of the jet boat and turned her head to Mbarak’s chest, shielding her eyes from the stinging salt. ‘If this is their idea of a surprise, they’re sooo wrong!’ she thought grumpily.
“Mita no9al? Where are we even going??” Jawhara shouted to Mbarak over the deafening engine.
“Shway; you’ll see!” Mbarak replied, lovingly rubbing her upper arm.
Jawhara thanked God when she felt the jet boat slow down; they must be at their destination. But when Jawhara and Fajer looked around, they were in the middle of the frightening sea with no island in sight, and they were so far away from the mainland that the chalets looked like grains of sand neatly arranged along the coast.
Jawhara was panic-stricken, the worst thoughts clouding her head. ‘Are they going to drown us?’ she thought, her heart racing. She looked at Fajer, who was leaning over the edge of the jet boat as Jawhara had done earlier, trying to scope out the bottom of the ocean.
“Jojo,” Mbarak interrupted her morbid thoughts as the boat stopped, “Look.” He pointed out to the nearby waves that were nodding up and down as if they were appreciating their presence. “Do you see it?”
Jawhara shook her head and wiped the salt water off her face, “See what? Killa waves!”
“Look closely!” Mbarak urged, pointing at the same place again, “There!”

“Oh my God!! Oh my God, wanaasaaaaa!!” Fajer quickly stood up and shrieked with delight. Wahab laughed as he moved over to where Fajer was.
“What? What??” Jawhara cried, “Shino fee??”
“Oh my God, Jawharaaa! DOLPHINS!!” Fajer cried, ecstatic.
“WHAT?! WHERE?” Jawhara exclaimed.
“Here, don’t you see them, Jojo?” Mbarak turned her face towards the ocean and pointed.
Surely enough, amidst the navy blue waves, slivers of grey dolphin skin emerged from the surface and dipped back into the water. Jawhara went wild with joy, almost toppling over the wound anchor ropes.
“I wanna see!” she cried, her heart racing with desire.
“La7tha,” Mbarak fumbled with the wooden lid of the anchor box, and when it finally opened, he pulled out two pairs of snorkeling goggles and handed one each to Jawhara and Fajer. “Here, put these on and just put your head in the water.”
The girls quickly put the goggles on and leaned over the edge of the jet boat, careful not to fall over, and Mbarak and Wahab put their hands on the girls’ hips to steady them. Jawhara dunked her head into the cold glassy ocean, which suddenly felt so inviting again. The sight brought tears to her eyes.

There it was; just like she had always pictured the deep blue sea. The sandy bed was so far down that she couldn’t see it, but it didn’t bother her. She didn’t think of the crustaceans she’d imagined would scurry across the sand. She didn’t even worry that there were no colorful exotic fish creating moving rainbows in the water. Blinking back tears, Jawhara admired the way the sunlight formed a natural spotlight in the darkness for her to take in the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen in Bnaider; no, the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen in her life. Four bottle-nosed dolphins undulated and swayed in the turquoise water, like lengths of silvery-grey silk fluttering in a spring breeze. They swirled this way and that, nodding their heads against the chilly current.
Fajer still had her head submerged in the water, in awe at the incredible scene. This was something they both never thought they’d see in Kuwait.
Mbarak and Wahab tugged the girls’ shirts, signaling for them to pull their heads out of the water for air; with all the excitement, they’d forgotten to breathe.

Jawhara pulled the soaking goggles off her head and wiped away a stray tear. “Sub7an Allah,” she said, still absorbing what she’d just seen.
“Yeah, 9ij WOW!” Fajer smiled, handing the goggles to Wahab, “Take a look!”
“La, it’s ok,” he politely declined, “We see them all the time.”
“You’ve never seen dolphins before?” Mbarak asked the girls.
“Only at Sea World,” Jawhara replied, looking back at the ocean in hopes to see a dolphin rising to the surface.
“Well, this is the real world,” Mbarak said with a warm smile, “Welcome to the real Bnaider.”
“I love it,” Fajer gushed, “I’ve never seen anything like that – EVER!”
Wahab scooted closer to her and put his arm around her, “You guys ready to head back?”
Jawhara shook her head, her wide eyes pleading for a few more minutes with the beautiful dolphins. Like a child, she dipped her hand in the water, fanning her fingers and trying to get the dolphins’ attention. She wanted so badly to touch one; to stroke it’s gleaming body as it glided by. But to her dismay, the dolphins never resurfaced, and after long minutes of her futile attempts, Jawhara sadly gave up and told Wahab that they could head back to the chalet if they liked.

The drive back was so much more pleasant; the sea was gentle and so was Wahab’s driving. He maneuvered past the sharp waves and soon enough, they had reached the shores of Bnaider. The small lapping waves seemed inferior to the vast depths of the ocean, but Jawhara appreciated them nonetheless. The cool water was relaxing, and the grainy squishy mud was her foot therapy.
“I’m starving,” Fajer whined, “Wain bnakel?”
“I don’t know,” Jawhara shrugged, “I forgot to tell Rose to make anything for lunch.”
“Great,” Fajer pouted, “I don’t think my stomach can handle McDonald’s anymore.”
“I’ll just tell the cook to make something light,” Jawhara said, drying off her wet feet.
Wahab overheard their conversation and interjected, “You guys are eating with us today.”
“Ha? Min gaal?” Fajer asked, turning around to face him.
“Ana agool; yalla,” Wahab insisted.
“La, Wahab, fashla. I’m sure you guys want to spend time together without us; may9eer!”
“La fashla wala shay. It’s food. Better yet, it’s machboos, and I know you can’t resist,” Wahab said with a sly grin. It was true; Fajer’s weakness was a giant plate of steaming machboos with a side of red hot ma3booch.
“Fine,” Fajer surrendered with a smile, “But this is the last time.”

I know the title might seem delayed, but it took me a few days to realize how euphoric I was.There is something about November that is so bewitching. I can’t stop smiling beginning of the month, and believe me nothing has changed since October, nothing…

************UPDATE************
So i went on Thursday to starbucks in Keifan, the one next to the big gym, i ask for extra toffee, and they tell me “Oh well we dont have the toffee, we only add extra brown sugar now!!!!!! LA WALLAH?
Then they said, well ok do u want extra caramel on top?!
DO YOU EVEN [...]

Y – X’s brother, is THE eligible bachelor: Eltizam, akhlaq 3alya, handsome, and all the works. He knows kil shabab ilKwait, o banat’hom b3d, and everybody loves him. That’s why it came as a big surprise to me when my mother-in-law asked me to look for a bride for him!

“But khalty, he knows banat akthar menni !! “

“He doesn’t want any one he already knows, and he asked me to look for someone just like you“

AWwwwwwwwwwwwww
*blushing*
I was deeply flattered, my heart danced with joy.

“7beebti khalty wala yseer kha6rich illa 6ayyeb, khalli ilmawthoo3 3alay“

.
.

This was some while ago, and since then, he rejected every candidate I recommended for him.

No, this girl smokes and just too free for my taste.
(Okh. Ma kent adri!)

No, illa hathy. Allah yaster 3alaiha o 3alaina.
(Abbaaaaih !)

No, mo 7ilwa.
(O ba3daiiin?!! )

No, ilthaher sij malech khelg o betge6eeni ay ga66ah.
( Shared 3alaih ballah?!! )

Offffff, 6ala3 mo hayyen, o killish mo sahel.

.
.

Trrrrrn Trrrrrrn

I pick up the phone, and on the other end was Khalty Shaikha, the mother of one of my friends.

“Hala khalty 7beebti“. Hmmmm, what can she possibly want from me?

“Hala Glitter. How are you? And How’s X? “
“Kelna ib khair khalty, thank you“
“And how’s khaltich Om X, 3saha ibkhair? “
“She had a mild case of the flu, but she’s ok now“
“La la salamat’ha, ma tshoof shar. Tell her ana asallim 3alaiha“
“Yosal inshaAllah“

A bit of awkward silence, then she clears her throat and start saying:
“Ella Glitter, I wanted to ask you …. “

“Na3am Khalty ? ” , I say in anticipation, holding the phone tight.

“Ana sema3t inkom itdawroon 3la 3aroosa 7g Y… “

I smile.
So that’s why she’s calling!!
“Yes, khalty that’s true. O ibsara7a ta3abna m3ah. We didn’t find him a girl he liked yet“

“Well, ana 3ndy the perfect girl“, she says in triumph.

My smile grows bigger at her tone of voice, mishta66a ya7lailha.
“Sij khalty? Mino? “

“Reham, bint ekhty. You know her, don’t you? “

I frown as I remember Reham. Yes, she is lovely and quite beautiful, but…
“But Khalty, she is a baby!! “

“Ay baby Allah ehadach!! ” She shrieked. “Intay ma 3alaich mn il 3omor, you just tell him about her, o shoofay shegool“

“Bs khalty the age difference is more than 10 years, 7aram y3ny. O b3dain akhaf ma yerthon“

“Weeeh shloon ma yerthoon?!! Aslun I talked to her mother before calling you and it’s all arranged. She said 7ayyakom Allah, and if he wants to see her before visiting, that can be arranged too“

It is all arranged? Min sijha?

Trying my best to hide my shock at her forwardness, I say:
“Madry khalty, chinha wayed isgheera 3alaih, maskeena“.

“Maskeena? Haw laish maskeena?!!.. Ehya tabi wa7ed edallilha we dalli3ha, 3ad mo togfeen ib 6ereej il bint“

Me?? Stand in her way??
Hehehehe, unbelievable!

“Inzain khalty, Allah yaktib ma feh ilkhair“

“And call me to tell me of any developments, you hear? “

I chuckle, “InshaAllah“

.
.

I still haven’t told Y about her :- I

Wow.. It’s just one great day after another :D As if Glitter’s wonderful surprise wasn’t enough to get me going through the day, Yesterday I woke up to the most amazing news – Barack Obama is to be the next president of the USA.. So, a huge congratulations to Mr. Obama, his family, and to everyone that supports him (because God knows I do!!), and inshalla his term will be a life changing one for everyone in the best way possible :D Cheers!
_____________________________________

When Fajer and Wahab arrived at Mbarak’s chalet, an enormous smile spread across Jawhara’s face. She threw her Uno cards down onto the white plastic table and brushed the brown peanut skins off of her Juicy velour pants, standing up to hug her best friend.
“Ya chicken, ma 5ala9na the game!” Mbarak teased, “Wala 5ayfa innich bta5sereen again?”
“You wish!” Jawhara called over Fajer’s shoulder.
“You wish, dream on,” Mbarak joked, “Kil hatha oo you didn’t win a single game!”
“Baiih! Uno! Sha5bari!” Wahab exclaimed as he sat down at the table. Fajer and Jawhara sat in the two empty seats that normally would’ve been occupied by 3ammar and Nawaf. They chattered about trivial things and laughed together like best friends. Jawhara stared at Mbarak when he spoke, a feeling between being lost in his words and pure bliss overwhelming her. She’d never imagined a Kuwaiti guy to be so friendly and easygoing, and the joy of being able to sit for a while and not be a couple exclusively.
The sapphire night gave way to a lavender sky, and the sparkling stars faded into an array of tangerine cirrus clouds, and the girls struggled to keep their eyes open while Mbarak and Wahab babbled away. In the distance, the harmony of two mosques calling for prayer wafted towards the chalets, and without a second thought, Mbarak and Wahab excused themselves to pray the dawn prayer.

“So what do you think?” Jawhara blinked back the sleep in her eyes.
“About what?” Fajer yawned, completely oblivious to the events that took place earlier.
“About Wahab, maybe?” Jawhara reminded her, raising an eyebrow.
“Ee!” she remembered the long walk and wonderful conversations, a sluggish smile decorating her face, “He’s nice, walla, ma hagaita chithee at all.”
Jawhara grinned at her friend’s satisfaction, “Ashwa, 7mdilla! Shlooon?”
“Madri, babe, he’s nice oo damma 5afeef oo he’s not trying to be someone he’s not..,” Fajer trailed off. It was then she realized that the drowsiness had well washed over her, and that she was slurring her words. “Wai3, shfeeni faj2a di5t?”
“Me too, walla. Bes let them come back oo we’ll tell them that we’re going back to sleep,” Jawhara assured her. Moments later, both of the guys walked back out onto the patio. “Taqabal Allah,” the girls hummed, their voices thick with sleep.
“Minna oo minkum,” they replied. “Shfeekum; feekum ilnoom?” Mbarak asked, chuckling at Jawhara, who was slumped over on the deck table, resting her head on her folded arms.
“Mm..” Jawhara mumbled groggily, burying her head into the warm sleeves of her sweater.
The guys stood up and helped the girls onto their feet, and walked them back to Jawhara’s chalet while the early fiery sunrays dappled their faces. After wishing them a pleasant sleep, Mbarak and Wahab walked back to their chalet and got ready to sleep as well.

Rose swayed into the dark chalet; the girls had rolled down the electric shutters so the bright sun wouldn’t disrupt their slumber. “Jo-haraaaa!” she sang loudy, clapping her hands, “What you want por laaanch?”
Jawhara gasped and sprang up from her sleep – she was the lightest sleeper in her whole family, and Rose used that fact to her advantage. She woke Jawhara at the oddest hours of the morning; sometimes for no good reason.
“Rose!” Jawhara whispered loudly, “What the hell! I’m sleeping!” A faint migraine crawled around her head.
“Por laaanch! What you want pood?” Rose repeated, shoving her fists into the front pockets of her green uniform.
“Nothing, Rose; not now!” Jawhara pleaded, taking an envious fleeting look at Fajer who was in a serene deep sleep.
“Ay, dois mio!” Rose shook her head, “Abdul want to buy teengs por da keetchen!”
“Mo wagtich, ya Rose! We’ll order from somewhere!” Jawhara dismissed her, pushing her head back into the fluffy goose-down pillow. She tossed and turned uncomfortably for a good thirty minutes before sleep revisited her and drowned her in a series of incomprehensible dreams.
All she remembered from it was that she was walking on the surface of a cobalt blue sea, wearing a long white cloak. Underneath her, trapped in the water, were old familiar faces of people she’d loved and hated, and montages of previous events in her lifetime. Suddenly, she falls into the sea where the rigid surface ends, and she is pulled by Mbarak and Fajer, who are swimming behind Wahab. At that point, Jawhara woke up feeling unusually peaceful. She checked the time – 11 AM; she’d only been asleep for 6 hours. Not wanting to waste their last day in bed, she woke Fajer up, shaking her gently and telling her that the sea was waiting.

It didn’t take long for the girls to get dressed for their last day at the beach – they even skipped their usual filling breakfast and trotted out to the beach crunching on sourly-sweet green apples. Much to their surprise, Mbarak and Wahab were already awake, unloading their shiny white jet boat onto the dazzling blue ocean.
“9aba7 il5air!” Mbarak called out, “You’re right on time!”
“On time for what?” Jawhara asked, confused.
“We’re taking you guys out for a spin today,” Wahab elucidated with a smile.
“Spin wain?” Fajer stretched her arms out in front of her, suppressing a yawn.
“Ta3alaw rekbaw and you’ll see,” Mbarak grinned, “Yalla!”
The girls looked at one another, fear and hesitation in their eyes.
“Yalla, 3ad!” Wahab groaned, “5ayfeen min shino?”
“Nothing, bes a5af my mom calls aw Rose tig3ad itdawerna..” Jawhara tried to think of a lame excuse, but Mbarak wasn’t buying it.
He shook his head and tutted, “We planned a surprise for you, may9eer you say no!”
‘Surprise?’ Jawhara thought excitedly. There was nothing she enjoyed more than surprises, and they were probably even better when they had to do with the sea. “5ala9, 5ala9; we’re coming,” she gave in.

Mbarak and Wahab were already standing in the jet boat, waiting to pull the girls in. Fajer’s shorts were already soaked from the pumping tide, and the warm salt water clashed with the cool breeze. Wahab handed her a fluffy yellow towel to wrap her waist in so that she wouldn’t get cold.
“Don’t go too fast,” she begged, remembering how they sped onto shore the first day the girls saw them.
“La t5afeen,” Wahab winked, putting his shades on and driving the jet boat at a medium speed.
Jawhara watched the thick white foam form behind the boat, leaving a faint trail from the shore. She peered into the navy blue depths of the sea and a chill shot up her spine; nothing was clear at this end of the ocean – it was so deep it felt bottomless, and she imagined what kinds of sea creatures lurked below. It wasn’t like anything she’d pictured when she imagined her friendly whales floating about and the hurrying lobsters – the reality seemed so sinister and scary.
Mbarak put his arm around Jawhara as Wahab bounced the jet boat off the bobbing waves. The sound of the engine roared, disturbing the calm quiet sea. Jawhara felt like telling Wahab to stop the boat; that he was scaring the ocean and it’s inhabitants, when in reality, for the first time, the ocean was scaring Jawhara.

Fajer was in her own little world, enjoying the sound of the engine with her eyes closed, as if it were a yoga chant putting her at ease. The salt water sprayed on her face, invigorating her and really waking her up. “Are we there yet?” Fajer called to Wahab over the engine’s loud buzz.
“Almost!” he yelled back, wiping the drizzled water from the lens of his shades.

People, or girls in Q8 in particular, tend to forget themselves while chewing gum!
Even the classeist girl can fall into this trap. Eating gum, chewing, and forgeting about it. Looking Very vulgar in the process…
Y3ni im standing in starbucks five minutes ago. A nice stylish girl 5 years younger than me, dressed up but casually, [...]

*************************************UPDATE*************************************
 ” ومن يتقى الله يجعل له مخرجا ويرزقه من حيث لا يحتسب “
A while ago, a miracle just happened to me. Allah the Al-Mighty have blessed me with an unbelievable exit from this mess. An exit that will save my dignity for sure. I refused to take a simple exit that is socially acceptable but [...]

First of all, I’d like to thank you all soooo very much for your unconditional support; especially you, Glitter. To be honest, when I wrote the first part of this story, it was just a fantasy I’ve always had about falling in love at the chalet and just being young at heart. Eventually I based it on real people that I know, but never in my life did I think it would turn out like this. You guys are everything a blogger could ever ask for, and I love you all to bits. Hope you keep coming back and enjoy reading my stories as much as I enjoy writing them.. Hugs and kisses to all of you! (L)
……………………………………..

Silence fell among the four of them while Wahab waited for an answer. Jawhara nudged Fajer’s side and loudly whispered, “Go! Go!”
Mbarak snorted at Jawhara and poked her back, as if to tell her to stop.
“Umm.. OK?” Fajer murmured hesitantly. She slid off of the patio ledge and slapped the white powder off the legs of her pants.
Wahab gave Mbarak an uneasy look; he was scared he’d mess things up and give Fajer the wrong impression. He didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable at all; he just wanted to get to know her privately.
Mbarak tipped his head at Wahab, motioning for him to go ahead. Wahab followed Fajer onto the beach, and walked by her side in the dark silence until they were out of sight.
“Til3ab Uno?” Jawhara offered, her eyes aimlessly scoping the shallow tide.
“Baiiiih Uno! Sh’hal fa9la! Sha5bari!” Mbarak cried, chuckling at the thought of playing his favorite childhood game, “Do you have the cards?”
“Ee, they’re at the chalet; let me grab them warid,” Jawhara replied, excited. Uno was her favorite card game, and many people she came across never appreciated her love for it. During Ramadan, Fajer and Jawhara would play Uno right until the dawn prayers, with a pitcher of water and a plate of grilled cheese sandwiches at their sides.
Jawhara ran to her chalet and rummaged through her weekender bag for the Uno deck, and when she found it, she sprinted back out to the beach only to find Reem strolling towards Mbarak’s chalet.
Her heart beat wildly in her chest and she felt her hands get clammy. Feet planted firmly in their place, Jawhara was unable to budge as she saw Mbarak staring blankly at the sea, waiting for her while Reem moved in like a hawk attacking her prey. The voyeuristic side of Jawhara consumed her as she stepped back to observe how Mbarak would handle Reem this time around, without Jawhara there to cushion his fall.
“Mbarak, shloonik?” Reem wiggled her fingers as she strutted in his view.

A few long seconds passed with nothing but the soft crashing of the waves harmonizing in the brisk air. As if he hadn’t heard her the first time, Reem asked again, “Mbarak.. Shloonik?” She fidgeted with the short hemline of her beach dress, pulling it down an inch to cover her smooth thighs, but only succeeding in exposing her cleavage.
Mbarak stared down at his lap and bit his tongue in fear of saying something that may give Reem the green light, or something that may be downright rude. His morals remained one of his top priorities, so instead of saying something he might regret, Mbarak reached out to Wahab’s tiny radio and switched it on, letting 3abood 5owaja’s voice serenade him. “Kil Amrin Sahil Min Doon Il-Wada3.. Kaif Ana Bawada3ak? Hallah Hallah Bil-Amana!”
He swayed his head to the tinkling melody of the 3ood, ignoring Reem’s presence until she huffed and walked away, grumbling about how “ma tisti7i”.
Jawhara’s heart swelled with joy at the faint sound of 3abood 5owaja; she sensed that Mbarak wouldn’t have turned the radio on if he was talking to Reem. She took a deep breath, letting the chilly air fill up her lungs, and then exhaled before she made her way back to Mbarak, Uno deck in tow.

She beamed at him and they sat at the plastic deck table, listening to music and shuffling the Uno cards. While Jawhara distributed the cards, Mbarak arranged them in his palm, eyeing her from the top edges. “Ba5al9ich,” he menaced, frowning at his cards.
“Dream on,” Jawhara shot back, placing a colorful card over the starter card. They played an intense game, crunching on a bowl of peanuts and slapping down their cards as quickly as they could.
“UNO!” Mbarak yelled, fanning his last card in Jawhara’s aggravated face, “Dream on, ha? Dream on!” he teased.
The game didn’t last longer than five seconds after that, Mbarak throwing down his last card triumphantly. “Ana agool isteree7ay shway, Jojo,” he laughed boisterously as Jawhara scowled.
“Hey! Not fair!” Jawhara protested, flicking a toasted peanut at Mbarak.
“It’s never fair when you lose, mama,” he smiled, “Wanna play another round?”
“You’re on,” Jawhara said confidently.

Wahab and Fajer had already walked past countless chalets, talking quietly and shyly as if they were a newly engaged couple. Wahab, Fajer noticed, had the sweetest disposition she’d ever encountered; it surprised her to no end why girls weren’t flocking to him left and right. Even after he had explained his academic situation and all of the pressures he faced, Fajer admired him more for his strength and will to keep up with his hectic lifestyle.
“It’s funny, because usually when I tell a girl about my busy life, itkish because she thinks I won’t give her the attention she wants,” Wahab slowly opened up to Fajer.
“La, ana with me, it’s the opposite. I’m not the kind of girl that depends on a guy for security. To be honest, I wasn’t even considering getting into this if it wasn’t for Jawhara,” Fajer confessed, and her face darkened with embarrassment.
“That’s what I like about you,” Wahab smiled, “I can tell you’re very genuine.”
“Thanks; min 6eeb a9lik,” Fajer pursed her lips, feeling her throat tickle, “So are you, you know. I don’t know if you do it on purpose, bes you’re not like other guys. You’re yourself; ma tit9ana3.”
“Thanks, Fajoor,” his warm smile turned into a sparkling grin.

They detoured off the damp sand and onto the tiny islands that the vanished tide had formed, splashing through the shallow pools and scuffling through the wet sand.
“A crab! Allaaah!! Gubageb!” Fajer cried as a murky green crab scampered across the wet sand and disappeared into a crab hole.
“A5aiiiiih 3ad tadreen shino yabeela? Tegember!” Wahab reminisced about his younger years, when he and his brothers would come to the warm beach during the summer sunsets and poke around the sand for crabs. He explained to Fajer how they would walk around like members of a gang, harpoons in one hand and a bright plastic pail in the other. “We’d each catch as many crabs as we could before the night fell, and we’d take them home and see if we could cook any for dinner.”
Fajer imagined Wahab’s childhood, a screen projecting a fuzzy movie in her mind. She smiled and told him how lucky he was to have brothers – she was an only child, which factored in her closeness to Jawhara.
“Well you have me,” Wahab said quietly.
“Yeah? Since when?” Fajer teased.
“Min ilyoom oo raye7,” Wahab blinked, the moisture glazing his eyes enhancing the twinkling glint. Fajer felt weak at the knees, and even more so when Wahab awkwardly put his arm around her while they walked back to the chalet.
Once again, a full moon smiled down at Bnaider and everyone who was there. Fajer looked up to the stars hopefully, saying a little prayer, and smiling back at the moon.

+++++ 3abood 5owaja – Hallah Hallah Bil-Amana +++++