<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-577049953640162106</id><updated>2011-11-24T21:02:52.413-08:00</updated><category term='childhood'/><category term='gay'/><category term='mirage of blaze'/><category term='strange'/><category term='fairy tale generator funny cool cinderella grimm snow white love'/><category term='rights'/><category term='box'/><category term='social site'/><category term='CTA'/><category term='freedom of speech'/><category term='queen rania three words 3 middle east people blog art peace war'/><category term='belong'/><category term='Belmont'/><category term='secrets dark secret funny sad evil peace'/><category term='relationships'/><category term='gay arabic middle east'/><category term='kanji books'/><category term='train'/><category term='diary'/><category term='hope yemen people culture society movie reputation othello'/><category term='online'/><category term='yemen people culture society american views thoughts mountains walking ESL'/><category term='neutral'/><category term='category'/><category term='yemen people culture society culture smoking no nicotine parents fat  family language funny'/><category term='arab gay middle east AIDS porn internet blocked'/><category term='lesbians'/><category term='strange conversations train CTA Brown Line'/><category term='japanese'/><category term='yemen airplanes airplane travel small mean people english arabic'/><category term='conversations'/><category term='yaoi'/><category term='kanji'/><category term='twitter'/><category term='journal'/><category term='book review'/><category term='chicago complaints complaint choir cta traffic choirs visual arts humanities'/><category term='japan'/><category term='switzerland'/><category term='studying'/><category term='swiss'/><category term='strange conversations train CTA Brown Line Belmont'/><category term='learning'/><category term='weddings'/><category term='young'/><title type='text'>gaining the world and losing the soul</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>without</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17372910174585968564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/Sts2GDVopOI/AAAAAAAAAC0/joc6MVcIrLA/S220/l_afefa7a8c5f2f2c37d84cb4b12b8d7f5.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>21</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-577049953640162106.post-6950140233142239856</id><published>2010-01-29T10:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T12:36:12.032-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='studying'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='japanese'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kanji books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='book review'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='learning'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twitter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kanji'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='japan'/><title type='text'>Learnning Kanji</title><content type='html'>I haven't posted here in while. I'm mainly at &lt;a href="http://goseeit.wordpress.com/"&gt;Go See It&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://tokyofan.tumblr.com/"&gt;For a lack of a Better Place&lt;/a&gt; these days but I think this post belongs here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to start by saying that I'm not an expert Japanese speaker. I have been learning it for a year and nowhere close to the level I'd like to be at. That said, I try not to leave any stone unturned. &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/"&gt;Twitter&lt;/a&gt; has been an amazing place to find people who helped me significantly in this insane journey. Two people come to mind, the first is Brett from @&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/rainbowhill"&gt;Rainbowhill&lt;/a&gt; and the second is Harvey who is residing at @&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/japannewbie"&gt;Japannewbie&lt;/a&gt;. Both have been amazing resources and always there to help if you ask. For that, I will be forever greatful. Check them out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most important thing that I've learned from observing myself and others studying Japanese is: &lt;b&gt;we all have different learning styles!&lt;/b&gt; One thing that might work for someone will not work for the next person, which is why I decided to write this post. I hope that it will aid you in studying &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kanji"&gt;Kanji&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have used 3 books in studying Kanji. &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Basic-Kanji-Book-Vol-1/dp/4893580914"&gt;Basic Kanji&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/4805309814/ref=pd_lpo_k2_dp_sr_1?pf_rd_p=486539851&amp;amp;pf_rd_s=lpo-top-stripe-1&amp;amp;pf_rd_t=201&amp;amp;pf_rd_i=0804804966&amp;amp;pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&amp;amp;pf_rd_r=0TGRRJFAK2VMPYJCAZSQ"&gt;Read Japanese Today&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Crazy-Kanji-Students-Wonderful-Characters/dp/1933330201"&gt;Crazy for Kanji&lt;/a&gt;. Having read them I have a good idea of the kind of learners they are most likely appropriate for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/S2MetgmRZII/AAAAAAAAAE0/Hl3Gth-ak6c/s1600-h/Learn+Japan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/S2MetgmRZII/AAAAAAAAAE0/Hl3Gth-ak6c/s200/Learn+Japan.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;A friend of mine swears by "Read Japanese Today" being the book to go for. That's why I got it. It concentrates on breaking down Kanji to simple shapes and gives the reader stories about the origins of these characters to help memorize Kanji. &lt;i&gt;Note: clicking "look inside" on the image will not enable you to do so&lt;/i&gt; . :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/S2MfYsSGLoI/AAAAAAAAAE8/9SDKuusjW58/s1600-h/Cray+Japanese.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/S2MfYsSGLoI/AAAAAAAAAE8/9SDKuusjW58/s200/Cray+Japanese.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A very similar one is "Crazy for Kanji" in the way that it does take a "non traditional" approach to teach you about the "wonderful world of Kanji". They are both written in English for the most part and try to tap into the creative side of the reader.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/S2Mfn9R-xHI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6bY1akgjYAM/s1600-h/Basic+Kanji.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/S2Mfn9R-xHI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6bY1akgjYAM/s200/Basic+Kanji.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basic Kanji book is for students who prefer the more traditional route. It's mostly in Japanese with little English and will use the excessive repeating of vocabulary, reading and writing exercises to ensure Kanji is engraved in your memory. Many people will not like this approch because it is tedious and can lead to many frustrated sighs. For those learners, I recommend the first two books. I, on the other hand, can't learn from simply reading that "&lt;span class="kanji" style="z-index: 149989;"&gt;名" came to exist because of people yelling (&lt;/span&gt;口 mouth) at night&lt;span class="kanji" style="z-index: 149989;"&gt; to identify who is out when it's dark &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="kanji" style="z-index: 149989;"&gt;(夕 evening). However, the first two books are very useful to me as a refresher or a supplement to the Kanji book. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="kanji" style="z-index: 149989;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="kanji" style="z-index: 149989;"&gt;I hope this post was helpful to you, fellow Japanese learners. It's short simple, to remind you that whatever route you chose, make sure that it's the style you're comfortable with and not the one people tell you will work. We alll process information differently. Finally learning Japanese is an adventure and the results are worth the hard work! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="kanji" style="z-index: 149999;"&gt;皆さんがばって&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="kanji" style="z-index: 149999;"&gt;下さい!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="kanji" style="z-index: 149999;"&gt;--&lt;a href="http://card.ly/tokyofan"&gt;Tokyofan &lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/577049953640162106-6950140233142239856?l=mcarabic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/feeds/6950140233142239856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=577049953640162106&amp;postID=6950140233142239856' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/6950140233142239856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/6950140233142239856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/2010/01/learnning-kanji.html' title='Learnning Kanji'/><author><name>without</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17372910174585968564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/Sts2GDVopOI/AAAAAAAAAC0/joc6MVcIrLA/S220/l_afefa7a8c5f2f2c37d84cb4b12b8d7f5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/S2MetgmRZII/AAAAAAAAAE0/Hl3Gth-ak6c/s72-c/Learn+Japan.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-577049953640162106.post-2744979222466689629</id><published>2009-12-30T16:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-30T16:05:52.172-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Waking up with a funny taste in my mouth</title><content type='html'>How important is remembering your dreams to you? It's usually very hard for me to remember them past the ten minutes after I wake up. This time, it was not any different. But, and this is a big but, there was a computer next to me and I was able to paste whatever I had left in my memory before it was long gone. People with names are people I know. Some I haven't seen in hours, some in years. In 2010 I will change, I will be different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dramatis Personae &lt;br /&gt;Tso &lt;br /&gt;Marie&lt;br /&gt;Tso's friend.&lt;br /&gt;Kefin&lt;br /&gt;Pregnant woman &lt;br /&gt;Woman&lt;br /&gt;Man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to see Tso, a photography instructor, while I was on a break from my work. I did not know what work was at the time. Just that it was something I had a break from. Was it in the same building? I talked to Tso about random topics,&amp;nbsp; how's Marie (my former instructor and a mutual friend), the weather and I mentioned that I knew she had another job and asked how that was going. She talked to me about creativity and how it has to be never ending in her job as a graphic designer. Told her that that's great, sounds like a lot of fun because she is always creating amazing work that everyone admires. She asked me what my plans were for the future."I want to do something different" I said.&amp;nbsp; She smiled and said that I should try and join her company, they just had an opening and she would be able to put in a good word for me. I immediately felt an immense amount of happiness and misery. Happy because I could finally escape the hell I'm in and sad because I clearly don't have the proper education to fill a position at a graphic design firm. I didn't even finish school and don't have a degree "I am setting myself up for failure" I thought.&amp;nbsp; Looked like she felt bad for me, she gave me a booklet of a film/advertisement festival of some sorts. She said that I should pick any topic in that booklet and write a paper about it then give it to her. She would then look at it and submit it to her superiors as a proof of my creativity.&amp;nbsp; Her friend came over and they started chatting. I told them that I had to get back to work. I still don't know what work is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left the building and on the streets I saw Marie driving in a car. I wanted to say hi, I waved and screamed but she seemed to be preoccupied and didn't see me. I then saw Kefin and we sat on a bench. I told him that I'm delusional, told him about the story of the film festival brochure and told him that even though I talked to Tso I left with nothing in my hands, that I&amp;nbsp; am delusional in thinking that she gave me something to work on when she didn't. She never asked me to write anything after I told her about my lack of education. In my head I wanted her to do so and as a result&amp;nbsp; I entered a dream state in which I gave myself a glimpse of hope that I badly wished for.&amp;nbsp; I wanted to cry. No tears are surrendering to the gravity, however. I then thought "why can't I cry, I think it'll make me feel better but my entire life I have never been able to cry. Will I cry when my parents die?". I told Kefin how much I hate the job that I do now and that I just want to leave it, can't stand being there anymore. He says he's sorry and he gets up to cross the street. He gets to the other side of the street and starts walking in a cheerful matter. I ask him from the other side of the street if he wants to go for a drink. He says he's taking a break. I yell out "that's what you said last week". He ignores me. An old man, with a tooth missing, yells out in agreement with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get back to work. Looks like my job is to take care of a pregnant woman with an insanely large stomach and it's about to pop any second now. She is asleep and I was to monitor her and her baby until it's time for me to leave, at 5:00 pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other girl I'm working with sees me packing my belongings before my time to go, I'm fed up with this. She then asks me in a demanding, condescending tone about what I think I'm doing. Told her I'm just packing my books to leave. She says that I "look" smart with all these books so why am I here. "mind her own business, I'm stupid, reading books doesn't mean that I'm actually smart" I say, hoping that she'll leave me alone. She says that I'm just like my cousin Sarah, always bringing myself down, that I'm some sort of masochist. I then while singing tell her that it is odd, both of Sarah's parents loved her. Implying that there might have been something wrong with the way my parents felt towards me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other guy I work with sees one of the books, it's a math book, a precalculus math book. He yells "looks like he really is an idiot, he's studying this stupid math book". I got very angry and grabbed him by the collar of his tshirt and told him that he should never insult my intelligence, I'm very smart. He keeps making fun of me and I punch him. He recoils to where tubes, connected to the pregnany women, are and is gives me a threatening look while gradually pulling them. It might kill the pregnant lady. I told him not to do it, he's angry at me and not at the woman, he may kill the baby if he does anything stupid. He says he's going to tell on me, that I punched him and left early. I yell "that's fine but what are you going to tell them when you pull that tube 'sorry I killed the baby because I'm an iddiot'" ? He stops pulling the tubes. There are still 5 mins left to 5 PM. I contemeplate just leaving. I end up staying to wait for the managers of that company to come and yell at me and think of telling them that I'm leaving, that I'm extremely miserable there and never coming back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wake up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/577049953640162106-2744979222466689629?l=mcarabic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/feeds/2744979222466689629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=577049953640162106&amp;postID=2744979222466689629' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/2744979222466689629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/2744979222466689629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/2009/12/waking-up-with-funny-taste-in-my-mouth.html' title='Waking up with a funny taste in my mouth'/><author><name>without</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17372910174585968564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/Sts2GDVopOI/AAAAAAAAAC0/joc6MVcIrLA/S220/l_afefa7a8c5f2f2c37d84cb4b12b8d7f5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-577049953640162106.post-9020276807255440029</id><published>2009-12-07T19:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T20:09:48.110-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='switzerland'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='swiss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='online'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='neutral'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='freedom of speech'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='social site'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twitter'/><title type='text'>Neutral as a Swiss Flag.</title><content type='html'>If today's &lt;a href="http://bit.ly/6QL4o5"&gt;incident&lt;/a&gt; taught me anything, it's that talking about gender, politics or religion on an online social site is a slippery slope and there is no turning back. I do not think it has to do with freedom of speech. In a perfect world we would all be willing to listen to what others say and others would be willing to reciprocate. We are not in a perfect world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to be the Switzerland of online communities. However, this takes me back to &lt;a href="http://www.smh.com.au/opinion/contributors/irrational-response-to-rational-anxiety-about-islam-20091204-kadu.html"&gt;events of last week&lt;/a&gt;. Even Switzerland can't always be the poster child of so called neutral grounds. I think I have realized that sooner or later you will be forced to pick a side and hope that when that day comes you will be prepared with your fist to fight. Metaphorically speaking of course.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/577049953640162106-9020276807255440029?l=mcarabic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/feeds/9020276807255440029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=577049953640162106&amp;postID=9020276807255440029' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/9020276807255440029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/9020276807255440029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/2009/12/neutral-as-swiss-flag.html' title='Neutral as a Swiss Flag.'/><author><name>without</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17372910174585968564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/Sts2GDVopOI/AAAAAAAAAC0/joc6MVcIrLA/S220/l_afefa7a8c5f2f2c37d84cb4b12b8d7f5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-577049953640162106.post-6502298427849552037</id><published>2009-08-10T09:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T10:31:06.108-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='strange conversations train CTA Brown Line Belmont'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='train'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='conversations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='strange conversations train CTA Brown Line'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='CTA'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Belmont'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='strange'/><title type='text'>Strange Conversations Aug 8th of Current Year</title><content type='html'>I wish this conversation would have lasted longer and for me to have been less guarded about exposing my less than Muslim believes with this man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M gets on a train to go to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ginza&lt;/span&gt; Japan Fest in Chicago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sits across from a man staring at the window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stranger: Are you Arabian?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;M&lt;/span&gt;: Yes. (rest of conversation is spoken &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;strictly&lt;/span&gt; in Arabic)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stranger: Where are you from? *other &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;passengers&lt;/span&gt; start to stare*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;M&lt;/span&gt;: Yemen (No I will NOT ask you where you're from to further this conversation I should have just told you I'm not Arabic)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stranger: O will you please pray to Allah for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;M&lt;/span&gt;: Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stranger: I'm very ill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;M&lt;/span&gt;: May Allah cure you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stranger: Thank you, thank you love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;M&lt;/span&gt;: *puts headphones back on and looks at opposite direction*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stranger: Where is Allah right now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;M&lt;/span&gt;: He's watching you and me and everyone else, from up above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stranger: O wow Allah is awesome. I've been a sinner, I wonder if Allah will ever forgive me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;M&lt;/span&gt;: Sure, no one is perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stranger proceeds to show me his upper gum which contains brown deposits in place of what used to be his teeth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;M&lt;/span&gt;: *smiles*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stranger: Allah did this to me. I'd like to fuck his sister but he doesn't have one. Do you not sin because of Allah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;M&lt;/span&gt;: I do not sin because of morals I've &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;acquired&lt;/span&gt; through my parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stranger: Well Allah is an asshole for making me this sick, fuck him and his non &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;existent&lt;/span&gt; sister. Goodbye. *man gets off on Belmont*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/577049953640162106-6502298427849552037?l=mcarabic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/feeds/6502298427849552037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=577049953640162106&amp;postID=6502298427849552037' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/6502298427849552037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/6502298427849552037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/2009/08/strange-conversations-aug-8th-of.html' title='Strange Conversations Aug 8th of Current Year'/><author><name>without</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17372910174585968564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/Sts2GDVopOI/AAAAAAAAAC0/joc6MVcIrLA/S220/l_afefa7a8c5f2f2c37d84cb4b12b8d7f5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-577049953640162106.post-1448073668706492988</id><published>2009-07-28T07:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T10:31:36.942-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='young'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='childhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='journal'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='diary'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gay'/><title type='text'>August 1999</title><content type='html'>I was looking for a book and I stumbled upon this. My amazing &lt;a href="http://greenbeanfeminista.blogspot.com/"&gt;friend&lt;/a&gt; has something similar on her blog and you should read it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may add some more excerpts later. We'll see. I'm directly quoting so not going to revise any grammar and/or spelling issues. My English language skills were almost non existent so be kind. Or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used boy/girl interchangeably. It's interesting to see I've had such struggles without even realizing where they sprung from. I do not remember why I did use boy sometimes and girl other times to describe who I'm attracted to. I do know that I was talking about the opposite sex when I mention one. I.E. "I met a girl I liked" usually means "I met a boy I liked"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;August 8th 1999&lt;br /&gt;"my lover, he must be the best person in the world as I think so, must be beautiful, smart and attractive and maybe more. There's some girl that I love her like a friend and more I could love relationship if we have more time to know each other more because I only know her before one month exams start and unfortunately she left to Brittan after exams and she won't come again but after years maybe. So this is my story about my lover and I hope I'll find my lover one day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;August 23rd 1999&lt;br /&gt;"Yesterday my father's cousin and his family had visit us and one of them is a boy that big from me two years old. We was knowing each other before but now our relationship became stronger and I think he also feel same think that I feel towards him. And I hope we won't forget each other and there will be a strong relationship....he told me a lot of secrets because he trust me, like he smoke and watches sex movies without his parents know and many more things I can't write. p.s. bad hand writing because I'm sad he's leaving our house tomorrow."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;August 29th 1999&lt;br /&gt;"Before seconds my mother a movie because it's for big people, when she said that is that mean that I'm still small, I'm 14 years old now...sometimes when I was in my grandfather's house in Aden they had bought cable channels and one of them is the movie channel and everyone knows what the movie channel shows in it's move like "larry flint vs people""&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This should be a great read for my therapist if I had one. What is this strange attractions towards the idea of relationship? I do believe that I took the literal meaning of it back then. Yes, there is a literal and non-literal take on that word. It's so loaded. Also, I clearly had and I still have trust issues.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/577049953640162106-1448073668706492988?l=mcarabic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/feeds/1448073668706492988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=577049953640162106&amp;postID=1448073668706492988' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/1448073668706492988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/1448073668706492988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/2009/07/august-1999.html' title='August 1999'/><author><name>without</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17372910174585968564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/Sts2GDVopOI/AAAAAAAAAC0/joc6MVcIrLA/S220/l_afefa7a8c5f2f2c37d84cb4b12b8d7f5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-577049953640162106.post-5935440256556379651</id><published>2009-07-21T09:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T10:31:54.281-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='category'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='box'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='belong'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gay'/><title type='text'>fitting into boxes</title><content type='html'>I have noticed that people hate belonging into a box. Hate checking a mark into one. Gay? Straight? Bi? Asian? White? Single? I, on the other hand, love boxes. I simply adore them! After being so confused about where to belong in this world, I welcome boxes with open arms. Put me there and never take me out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/577049953640162106-5935440256556379651?l=mcarabic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/feeds/5935440256556379651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=577049953640162106&amp;postID=5935440256556379651' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/5935440256556379651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/5935440256556379651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/2009/07/fitting-into-boxes.html' title='fitting into boxes'/><author><name>without</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17372910174585968564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/Sts2GDVopOI/AAAAAAAAAC0/joc6MVcIrLA/S220/l_afefa7a8c5f2f2c37d84cb4b12b8d7f5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-577049953640162106.post-6218982052332040322</id><published>2009-06-26T21:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T10:32:06.511-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weddings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rights'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lesbians'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gay'/><title type='text'>Weddings, gay weddings</title><content type='html'>I just got back from a wedding that I attended. It was my first wedding. Not only was it a wedding at an extremely romantic &lt;a href="http://www.garfieldconservatory.org/"&gt;environment&lt;/a&gt;. It was also a gay wedding. Two women professing their love blah blah blah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always thought, and maybe tomorrow morning I will, that weddings are for unfulfilled people. People who wanted to believe that they're happy and show other people that they are happy whether they are happy or not. Why would you want to tie a bond unless you're afraid of the bond breaking. Unnecessary ceremony that people got together for to prove their social status and their wallet size. Tonight and maybe for only tonight, my view has been changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how and when for just like it came it went away. This moment of bliss. It seemed like these two women weren't getting married for themselves. They were doing it for ME. To let me know that something "abnormal" could feel so good. That this is not so they could show the world how much money they have or how unrealistically optimistic they are. This is to show me that no matter who you're copulating with, you can survive in this mean judgmental world and have your 60 years old father be happy for you. It doesn't matter what people think, that you will go to hell, reside with Satan. All that matter is that you are here and people who love you don't really care that you have sushi 3 times a day. For a moment there I felt a huge rush of unconditional love go through me. This is getting very cheesy but our lives are cheesy, with hot chips and ground beef too. So if two same sex people want to get married, go right ahead. You have my blessing and my unconditional love to whatever you do in your life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/577049953640162106-6218982052332040322?l=mcarabic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/feeds/6218982052332040322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=577049953640162106&amp;postID=6218982052332040322' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/6218982052332040322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/6218982052332040322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/2009/06/weddings-gay-weddings.html' title='Weddings, gay weddings'/><author><name>without</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17372910174585968564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/Sts2GDVopOI/AAAAAAAAAC0/joc6MVcIrLA/S220/l_afefa7a8c5f2f2c37d84cb4b12b8d7f5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-577049953640162106.post-7584514135948660019</id><published>2008-09-23T10:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T09:47:32.701-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hope yemen people culture society movie reputation othello'/><title type='text'>who knew the bitch would crack</title><content type='html'>I watched a movie called "A New Day In Old Sana'a" not too long ago. It's available via youtube, fyi. Actually, I'm nice so I'm providing the &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/mohamedha007"&gt;user&lt;/a&gt; and the actual videos are below the post. I enjoyed this movie a lot. The portrait it painted about Yemeni (and I think a lot others in general) culture being so obsessed by reputation is something that pains me much. No matter how hard I try to escape it's always right there. Closer to me than my shadow. This takes me back to when I read Othello. Here is what I'm talking about:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CASSIO&lt;br /&gt;Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I have lost&lt;br /&gt;my reputation! I have lost the immortal part of&lt;br /&gt;myself, and what remains is bestial. My reputation,&lt;br /&gt;Iago, my reputation!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IAGO&lt;br /&gt;As I am an honest man, I thought you had received&lt;br /&gt;some bodily wound; there is more sense in that than&lt;br /&gt;in reputation. Reputation is an idle and most false&lt;br /&gt;imposition: oft got without merit, and lost without&lt;br /&gt;deserving: you have lost no reputation at all,&lt;br /&gt;unless you repute yourself such a loser. What, man!&lt;br /&gt;there are ways to recover the general again: you&lt;br /&gt;are but now cast in his mood, a punishment more in&lt;br /&gt;policy than in malice, even so as one would beat his&lt;br /&gt;offenceless dog to affright an imperious lion: sue&lt;br /&gt;to him again, and he's yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/osFu21_7O0E&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/osFu21_7O0E&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;This is my rant. Take it and throw it in the ocean in a bottle filled with hope. May it reach the darkest places and be released to spread some light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/SVQaTO4q6W8&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/SVQaTO4q6W8&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XGs21K5XAds&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XGs21K5XAds&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ds3OAqm7o1s&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ds3OAqm7o1s&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Rdeofr0CUdw&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Rdeofr0CUdw&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/RadU6ikFtb4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/RadU6ikFtb4&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/h0NwbxhupCA&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/h0NwbxhupCA&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ka867S2-Xfw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ka867S2-Xfw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/P27dtkRF2gk&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/P27dtkRF2gk&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/577049953640162106-7584514135948660019?l=mcarabic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/feeds/7584514135948660019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=577049953640162106&amp;postID=7584514135948660019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/7584514135948660019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/7584514135948660019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/2008/09/who-knew-bitch-would-crack.html' title='who knew the bitch would crack'/><author><name>without</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17372910174585968564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/Sts2GDVopOI/AAAAAAAAAC0/joc6MVcIrLA/S220/l_afefa7a8c5f2f2c37d84cb4b12b8d7f5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-577049953640162106.post-8490756615772573276</id><published>2008-09-22T14:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T10:33:45.426-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yaoi'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mirage of blaze'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gay'/><title type='text'>I'll show you what it means to be serious</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/J9dGni08_WQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/J9dGni08_WQ&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/577049953640162106-8490756615772573276?l=mcarabic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/feeds/8490756615772573276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=577049953640162106&amp;postID=8490756615772573276' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/8490756615772573276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/8490756615772573276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/2008/09/ill-show-you-what-it-means-to-be.html' title='I&apos;ll show you what it means to be serious'/><author><name>without</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17372910174585968564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/Sts2GDVopOI/AAAAAAAAAC0/joc6MVcIrLA/S220/l_afefa7a8c5f2f2c37d84cb4b12b8d7f5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-577049953640162106.post-6080979959408213506</id><published>2008-09-11T19:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T19:57:54.408-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I've used up all of my tears</title><content type='html'>Last day in 7th grade two boys came up to me while I was waiting for the bust. One of them took a water bottle and kept hitting my face, yelling out "cry, CRY, I want you to cry". I didn't cry. Until I got home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was 10 my mom took part of my allowance so she could save it for me in order to buy something "big". I said ok. Then I cried in the Kitchen because I didn't think it was fair that other boys had money and could spend it how ever they seemed fit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to live in a basement without a door. I told the landlord to install one. She told me that I need to hold my horses and if I don't like it I can leave. I cried that night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I came to the States I remembered that I made my sisters cry. I called them, said sorry and cried when I hung up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have cried so much that I don't think I can anymore. I sometimes think if I'll cry if one of my parents die.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/577049953640162106-6080979959408213506?l=mcarabic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/feeds/6080979959408213506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=577049953640162106&amp;postID=6080979959408213506' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/6080979959408213506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/6080979959408213506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/2008/09/ive-used-up-all-of-my-tears.html' title='I&apos;ve used up all of my tears'/><author><name>without</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17372910174585968564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/Sts2GDVopOI/AAAAAAAAAC0/joc6MVcIrLA/S220/l_afefa7a8c5f2f2c37d84cb4b12b8d7f5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-577049953640162106.post-5550529405353027419</id><published>2008-09-09T21:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T21:51:21.079-07:00</updated><title type='text'>it's not un common to have one bigger than the other!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OUVKN8tMpaE&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OUVKN8tMpaE&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/577049953640162106-5550529405353027419?l=mcarabic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/feeds/5550529405353027419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=577049953640162106&amp;postID=5550529405353027419' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/5550529405353027419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/5550529405353027419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/2008/09/its-not-un-common-to-have-one-bigger.html' title='it&apos;s not un common to have one bigger than the other!'/><author><name>without</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17372910174585968564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/Sts2GDVopOI/AAAAAAAAAC0/joc6MVcIrLA/S220/l_afefa7a8c5f2f2c37d84cb4b12b8d7f5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-577049953640162106.post-3728629188016333608</id><published>2008-08-27T09:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T10:04:45.751-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='secrets dark secret funny sad evil peace'/><title type='text'>will you feel better if you told me?</title><content type='html'>Well, whenever I get inspired I try to write about it here because I would love for you to be inspired as well. Maybe more, maybe less. It's actually me being selfish more than anything because I want to feel a sense of accomplishment and I'm using you to do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's this website I came across. It's one for people to post their secrets. I am selfish so I won't post the link to that site. No one knows who you are. Just post it in the comments box and experience whatever it is that you experience when you write something down that no one else knows. I can't do that because you might know me. I am asking you to post one for my heart to ache, laugh or cry. I don't know you and I don't want to but I want to know your secret.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/577049953640162106-3728629188016333608?l=mcarabic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/feeds/3728629188016333608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=577049953640162106&amp;postID=3728629188016333608' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/3728629188016333608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/3728629188016333608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/2008/08/will-you-feel-better-if-you-told-me.html' title='will you feel better if you told me?'/><author><name>without</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17372910174585968564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/Sts2GDVopOI/AAAAAAAAAC0/joc6MVcIrLA/S220/l_afefa7a8c5f2f2c37d84cb4b12b8d7f5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-577049953640162106.post-2856593303978773322</id><published>2008-08-06T12:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T12:03:24.203-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='queen rania three words 3 middle east people blog art peace war'/><title type='text'>what are your three words?</title><content type='html'>Hi there. My 3 words are "I am inspired". This video is amazing. Queen Rania IS making a difference. Please tell me what are you three words?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WfbkxXrK8hA&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WfbkxXrK8hA&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/577049953640162106-2856593303978773322?l=mcarabic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/feeds/2856593303978773322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=577049953640162106&amp;postID=2856593303978773322' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/2856593303978773322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/2856593303978773322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/2008/08/what-are-your-three-words.html' title='what are your three words?'/><author><name>without</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17372910174585968564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/Sts2GDVopOI/AAAAAAAAAC0/joc6MVcIrLA/S220/l_afefa7a8c5f2f2c37d84cb4b12b8d7f5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-577049953640162106.post-2448169398094667336</id><published>2008-07-31T17:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T09:45:03.575-07:00</updated><title type='text'>more vid logs :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I went back home to find my identity. I felt so strange and alone most of the time. Now I’m on my way back to the States and I feel so strange and alone. I can’t seem to find the place I belong in. Maybe one day. Right now I’m hungry for some food. I wonder if they have any in this airport. It never made sense to me how Americans buy goods from the Euro duty free market. It just doesn’t make any sense. It’s way more expensive than back in the States so you don’t end up getting a bargain after all and if you do it’s so little and you’re better off helping the economy back where you came from loser. Ha ha! I’ve always been intimidated by Germans. Not sure why. They just seem like they would eat you alive weather they need to or not. Just for simple pleasure. Someone just started at me. I wonder why. Old grumpy man looking for love in the land of the Herzog? Two things come to mind when someone mentions Germany. 1) Really straight forward movies i.e. Wings of Desire. 2) Heidi Klum “auf-ing” someone on Project Runway. I have to admit, immigrant Germans are kinda hot. Actually very hot. A brown man speaking German turns me on. It’s pretty ridiculous how I can’t get an internet signal in this air port. Bah!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first video was taken my last night an Aden city. Markets are never slow there even when the Mosque is calling out for prayer--they actually do go prey though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-60c3f91a707c0c79" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v20.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D60c3f91a707c0c79%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330426932%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3109B3BE79E17D45D891581B52F4667B2022E2E9.37ACF325FB5D9A8A1DDD6D5DA0BC7199E7C6D88B%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D60c3f91a707c0c79%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DU8PS8p0bkYMjOYHMDA_i2fB_au8&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v20.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D60c3f91a707c0c79%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330426932%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3109B3BE79E17D45D891581B52F4667B2022E2E9.37ACF325FB5D9A8A1DDD6D5DA0BC7199E7C6D88B%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D60c3f91a707c0c79%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DU8PS8p0bkYMjOYHMDA_i2fB_au8&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/577049953640162106-2448169398094667336?l=mcarabic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=60c3f91a707c0c79&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/feeds/2448169398094667336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=577049953640162106&amp;postID=2448169398094667336' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/2448169398094667336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/2448169398094667336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/2008/07/more-vid-logs.html' title='more vid logs :)'/><author><name>without</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17372910174585968564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/Sts2GDVopOI/AAAAAAAAAC0/joc6MVcIrLA/S220/l_afefa7a8c5f2f2c37d84cb4b12b8d7f5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-577049953640162106.post-7788002390353431921</id><published>2008-07-09T15:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T15:39:08.564-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yemen people culture society american views thoughts mountains walking ESL'/><title type='text'>my ass is soar and not from penetration</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/SHU43esOH8I/AAAAAAAAAAY/X95mPbZdBA8/s1600-h/Untitled.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/SHU43esOH8I/AAAAAAAAAAY/X95mPbZdBA8/s320/Untitled.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221141868788457410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taiz, the city I'm currently residing at is full of mountains. It's actually built on mountains so you can imagine how hurtful walking can be. Up and down, up and down. I'm just like this stick figure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in so much pain. Walking is a lot of fun though. You get to see all sorts of stuff. Today I was asked to be a guest in one of my sister's language lectures. I thought it would be fun and I could actually help those poor little kids.  I didn't think it would be the typical "how were you treated after 911". Please, that was seven years ago. You know how many clothes went through my closet in that time? Their professor wasn't any better, her second Q to me was "how are you spreading the word of Allah?" Thanks for ruining a perfectly gay Wednesday afternoon bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, nothing affected me or my life since 911. I haven't been harassed and people did not treat me differently. I don't spread the word of Allah to anyone. My life consists of spreading joy and love isn't that enough? When I told them that the majority of Americans, ones I know at least, do not agree with what is going on in lil Bush's head they kinda laughed. So I got up and said "all of your English is terrible, including your teacher, why don't you watch some English movies. It's a better run for your money and you might actually learn something". They all stared and asked "what do you mean "better run"?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm ready to come back home now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/577049953640162106-7788002390353431921?l=mcarabic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/feeds/7788002390353431921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=577049953640162106&amp;postID=7788002390353431921' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/7788002390353431921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/7788002390353431921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-ass-is-soar-and-not-from-penetration.html' title='my ass is soar and not from penetration'/><author><name>without</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17372910174585968564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/Sts2GDVopOI/AAAAAAAAAC0/joc6MVcIrLA/S220/l_afefa7a8c5f2f2c37d84cb4b12b8d7f5.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/SHU43esOH8I/AAAAAAAAAAY/X95mPbZdBA8/s72-c/Untitled.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-577049953640162106.post-3702564322354383635</id><published>2008-07-08T14:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T14:54:28.315-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='arab gay middle east AIDS porn internet blocked'/><title type='text'>Yes I can look at naked men</title><content type='html'>A friend of mine warned me about this and I actually laughed at her. Apparently you can't watch at porn in Yemen. I know, I was just as shocked as you are now. This is the message I got when I tried to enter the site:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table style="border-collapse: collapse;color:#111111;" border="0" border cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="90%"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="321"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Helvetica;"&gt;&lt;big&gt;Blocked URL&lt;/big&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="right" width="321"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" width="321"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Helvetica;"&gt; Your request was denied because of its content categorization: "Sex" &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="top" width="321"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="321"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Helvetica;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="right" width="321"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="321"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:Helvetica;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For assistance, contact Yemen Net team. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td align="right" width="321"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;span style="font-family:Helvetica;font-size:85%;"&gt;   If you feel this website should be opened,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  please send us email to &lt;script language="JavaScript"&gt; &lt;!--   document.write ("&lt;a href="'mailto:open_site@yemen.net.ye?subject="Open" body="+location.href+"&gt;open_site@yemen.net.ye&lt;/a&gt;")  // --&gt;   &lt;/script&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:open_site@yemen.net.ye?subject=Open%20site&amp;amp;body=http://www.89.com/go"&gt;open_site@yemen.net.ye&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  If you have websites that should be closed,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  please send us email to &lt;a href="mailto:close_site@yemen.net.ye"&gt;close_site@yemen.net.ye&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Helvetica;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Alert: Beware of AIDS.For more information call 175&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;The last part about AIDS was also included in the message. I'm very tempted to call them and see where it goes. I actually just might if I don't fall asleep anytime soon.&lt;br /&gt;Ha, too bad for you, Yemen net. I can still do google image search to my heart's content.&lt;br /&gt;I keep trying to find me a summer fling but my dad is always there. Ugh. Dad, let me be gay please.&lt;br /&gt;I also found out few tricks from my friend A. He said that in order for you to find a prey it is strongly suggested that you get a bluetooth enabled phone and have the feature turned on so others can find you.&lt;br /&gt;You'll get messages from neighboring chairs with videos, pics, sex tips, etc. I can't say anything bad about that. The Yemeni gays prevail! PREVAIL, hehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/577049953640162106-3702564322354383635?l=mcarabic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/feeds/3702564322354383635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=577049953640162106&amp;postID=3702564322354383635' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/3702564322354383635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/3702564322354383635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/2008/07/yes-i-can-look-at-naked-men.html' title='Yes I can look at naked men'/><author><name>without</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17372910174585968564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/Sts2GDVopOI/AAAAAAAAAC0/joc6MVcIrLA/S220/l_afefa7a8c5f2f2c37d84cb4b12b8d7f5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-577049953640162106.post-6025881700574171796</id><published>2008-07-05T12:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T09:46:18.607-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yemen people culture society culture smoking no nicotine parents fat  family language funny'/><title type='text'>I didn't leave the house today</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="file:///H:/DCIM/100ND40X/DSC_0076.JPG" alt="" /&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I don’t think I have ever in my adult life stayed inside without leaving the house. That makes some sense, when I didn’t have to work back in Chicago I would leave the house to smoke and such. Now I can’t smoke and such. I wonder how long I’ll be able to keep up the no nicotine diet. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We left the capital where I arrived, yesterday. Only my parents came to meet me, we then had to travel to the city where we actually live in. I met my brother. First thing that came out of my mouth was “o my god, he’s so freaking fat”; today I asked him if he can balance a plate on his belly. I think he’d make a great waiter. One plate on each hand and third on his fat-ass belly. I haven’t actually looked at his ass, I’m too scared. He’s a nice guy though, I’m sure he’ll make a great father once his wife is pregnant. Two years now. I asked my mom if she thinks they’re not having sex. She says yes. How she knows, don’t ask me and I’d rather not know. No complaints about my sisters. They’re actually all pretty and super nice. GIRL POWER! &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The other day I forgot I was with my dad and, out loud said, “there are so many freaking guys in here”. Good thing he didn’t hear me; or did he? There’s actually a very strong barrier when you try to translate from English to Arabic. Speaking English for so long I finally think in it then translate it to Arabic in my head before saying anything. It used to be the other way around few years ago. The other day I told my aunt that her laugh is so contagious. She didn’t get it. I just got silence. I think silence is a good sign that no one knows what you’re talking about. You become the huge pink elephant in the room. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There’s also a problem the other way around. I was watching TV and they were talking about America’s Independence day and that Declaration of Independence started with “all human beings created…” human being? I don’t think so. Because of this huge gap I learned the magic of pointing. I go to a store and I just point at things I want. Most people will not like that. I have realized how smart kids are. Life is so much easier when you point.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Another thing I forgot to bring with me. My digi camera. I did bring my D-SLR but it’s as big as my dick and you could imagine how hard it is to keep carrying it around everywhere. Was that line as funny as I thought it was? It’s actually very pretty in some parts in Yemen. I’ve included a photo for your pleasures. People here are, however, dirty. Especially kids. I want to take them home with me and scrub them with Clorox and Scott. It’s the only way. So dirty and I have the pictures to prove it. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m actually starting to enjoy my trip here, as long as I don’t leave the house.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/577049953640162106-6025881700574171796?l=mcarabic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/feeds/6025881700574171796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=577049953640162106&amp;postID=6025881700574171796' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/6025881700574171796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/6025881700574171796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-didnt-leave-house-today.html' title='I didn&apos;t leave the house today'/><author><name>without</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17372910174585968564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/Sts2GDVopOI/AAAAAAAAAC0/joc6MVcIrLA/S220/l_afefa7a8c5f2f2c37d84cb4b12b8d7f5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-577049953640162106.post-1193238586682321280</id><published>2008-07-02T23:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T23:29:41.663-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='yemen airplanes airplane travel small mean people english arabic'/><title type='text'>I forgot my condoms and micro SD card slot. It’s officially hell.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I am being a little over dramatic here but can you imagine that I remembered that I did not bring two BIG sources of entertainment once I got to Yemen?!?!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It started when I got to Frankfurt airport. I had to wait for about 9 hours for my connecting flight, nine hours stuck in Germany with lots of Germans. You know, when I heard them speak I thought they talked about having crazy sex with each other. I’m sure that &lt;i&gt;sometimes&lt;/i&gt; it was not the case but I just thought that all they talked about is having sex—and being violent at it. I did meat a Yemeni who told me that I’m too old to be single. I knew right there that Yemen has lots of pleasant surprises for me. I was full of excitement.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Then I get on the air plane. The seats are incredibly small. Made for Yemeni people. I specifically asked for a window seat because I can rest my head on the window after taking double the suggested dose of Vicodin. I just wanted it to be over. I get to my seat and there’s a nice guy sitting there. O hell no, that’s my seat bitch. He tells me that his seat is same is mine. I stare deeply in his little eyes and say “well the computer obviously made a mistake, let’s correct this, let me see your ticket”. I said that as sincerely as I could. My new friend there pulled the “I don’t speak English card” really, you want to play that game Yemeni midget? Ok, that’s fine. I was not going to start talking to him in Arabic so I just took my ticket and shoved it on the flight attendant’s face. As soon as I did that my friend spoke English only to say “well sit here if your ticket says here” I looked at him, shrugged then smiled as the flight attendant told him to kindly move his ass from my window seat. It’s on Yemen!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/577049953640162106-1193238586682321280?l=mcarabic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/feeds/1193238586682321280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=577049953640162106&amp;postID=1193238586682321280' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/1193238586682321280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/1193238586682321280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-forgot-my-condoms-and-micro-sd-card.html' title='I forgot my condoms and micro SD card slot. It’s officially hell.'/><author><name>without</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17372910174585968564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/Sts2GDVopOI/AAAAAAAAAC0/joc6MVcIrLA/S220/l_afefa7a8c5f2f2c37d84cb4b12b8d7f5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-577049953640162106.post-1218879978542036457</id><published>2008-06-23T13:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T13:53:51.505-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fairy tale generator funny cool cinderella grimm snow white love'/><title type='text'>my fairy tale. what's yours?</title><content type='html'>This is an awesome site I discovered. I hope you enjoy. I'm posting mine for your entertainment.&lt;br /&gt;He grabbed the stone from my hand and began to inquire about its origin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.brown.edu/Courses/FR0133/Fairytale_Generator/gen.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sugar and spice," the old woman beckoned as she held out palms filled with cinnamon falling between her fingers like sand.  As she sprinkled it across the floor my head swum up in a dizzy spell of hunger.  I could no longer control my feet moving towards the cheap gimmicks of an old woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What weighs you down will make you drown," he said with a loud crescent shaped grin.  I believed him.  I may have been a fool but with my head thrown asunder by the crashing tides of water I took off my shoes and bag and threw them across the stream on the other bank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I stood and shook I prayed for the knowledge to come and fill that part of my head that knew and understood nothing of this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left my home and family to find and entered the woods.  I walked deeper and deeper into the world of trees that reached the sky and damp earth that smelled of life, into a world I had always been warned not to enter.  The day I left my home, I could sense the adventure that lay ahead.  Armed with nothing but courage in my chest and good sense on my shoulders, I let my feet lead me into the great unknown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man who killed my father stood on the open ground with an army of people waiting to rise from the earth.  He brandished a blade in his hand and struck it towards the sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I began my journey home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My feet, wearing their newfound bottomed shoes, pressed gently across the soils as not to wake the men clamoring upwards.  But I still felt a shadow trail at my footsteps that did not feel like my own.  As I walked faster the shadow moved behind me as well, sometimes touching my bare skin with sodden ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I returned home Mother was not there.  Instead, there was a man leaning against our door, sipping guava juice through a straw.  He told me the lady of the house had left to search for her son, and that he had taken residence.  I looked down on him and winced.  His feet stank of manure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I killed the creature that has been plaguing us all," he cried.  I looked at him in shock, and immediately protested in front of the king.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"As a child, my son could dance along the soil so quickly that the men who died and live in the ground could not catch him.  Prove this to me now,"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The soil on my skin turned into sprinkles of gold dust.  The people proclaimed me some kind of god.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/577049953640162106-1218879978542036457?l=mcarabic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/feeds/1218879978542036457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=577049953640162106&amp;postID=1218879978542036457' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/1218879978542036457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/1218879978542036457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/2008/06/my-fairy-tale-whats-yours.html' title='my fairy tale. what&apos;s yours?'/><author><name>without</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17372910174585968564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/Sts2GDVopOI/AAAAAAAAAC0/joc6MVcIrLA/S220/l_afefa7a8c5f2f2c37d84cb4b12b8d7f5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-577049953640162106.post-9075580291572184090</id><published>2008-06-19T07:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T07:16:37.509-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chicago complaints complaint choir cta traffic choirs visual arts humanities'/><title type='text'>I'm from Chicago</title><content type='html'>Lately I've been asking myself "at what point will I be able to tell people that I'm from Chicago?". This video answered it. It made me smile and laugh and at a loss of words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/GvWVxHEaWDU&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/GvWVxHEaWDU&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/577049953640162106-9075580291572184090?l=mcarabic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/feeds/9075580291572184090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=577049953640162106&amp;postID=9075580291572184090' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/9075580291572184090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/9075580291572184090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/2008/06/im-from-chicago.html' title='I&apos;m from Chicago'/><author><name>without</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17372910174585968564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/Sts2GDVopOI/AAAAAAAAAC0/joc6MVcIrLA/S220/l_afefa7a8c5f2f2c37d84cb4b12b8d7f5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-577049953640162106.post-9052719000706997880</id><published>2008-06-14T07:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T07:44:12.372-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gay arabic middle east'/><title type='text'>yemeni undercover</title><content type='html'>I'm finally going back to my roots. Welcome back S, you're now approaching the most fun you'll ever have in the land you originated from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y is a country full of guys who love other guys. Hold hands, kiss and romance each other. At what point, however, do you actually engage in any sexual deviant behavior with your friend. Is there a sign? A code of conduct that you need to be aware of to engage in this phenomena? I have always wanted to dive under the belly of underground or above ground, I can't really tell, of the man love going on  in this country. I tried to rationalize, several times, how you could maintain two sexual identities and still be able to be a functioning member of your community. By functional I mean accepted part of the community. After all, we all want to be accepted. A lot of men in Y get to be accepted in two environments instead of one. Truly astonishing. I, too, would like to learn how to have the cake and keep it. Suck dick and adore pussy and still be able to have an internal balance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unlike men who live a double life in agony, I think, Y men who practice man love are able to live this area in complete balance and well being. I will try to be an observer and figure out how to acquire this peace/piece of mind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/577049953640162106-9052719000706997880?l=mcarabic.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/feeds/9052719000706997880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=577049953640162106&amp;postID=9052719000706997880' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/9052719000706997880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/577049953640162106/posts/default/9052719000706997880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mcarabic.blogspot.com/2008/06/yemeni-undercover.html' title='yemeni undercover'/><author><name>without</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17372910174585968564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ZclJcQA0Dxs/Sts2GDVopOI/AAAAAAAAAC0/joc6MVcIrLA/S220/l_afefa7a8c5f2f2c37d84cb4b12b8d7f5.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
