Never drink nail polish remover while eating mango. Very bad combination.

8^th Deadly Sin

Whoever has come up with the “seven deadly sins” has missed the deadliest sin ever on the list: Love. Actually they should make a modern version of the Deadly Sins for our capitalist world. For example is “pride”really a deadly sin? Or what’s really wrong with “greed” & “lust”? “Greed” makes you Donald Trump, “lust” makes you Hugh Hefner, but “love” makes you a useless wreck, a blind fool, and a crazy fantasist. They should, in fact, name “love” as the deadliest sin on the list, it should be number one, the one that everyone should avoid.

Emily

Emily Carlton had a scar on her belly. No one knew about her scar. All they knew was that she was a beautiful happy girl, but one who never started a relationship with a guy. Eventually people started talking about her. Some said she was gay, some said she was cruel. But she kept smiling and hiding her scar all her life. One thing she never realized, though, was that most of the people around her had some scars somewhere on their bodies as well.

My Friend is a Hero

I have a very good friend whose IQ is way above average. He’s graduated from the most prestigious university in Iran (Sharif Uni.), and got his masters degree in engineering in Canada. He did so well in school that he got hired right after school in a company which designs and manufactures private jets. What he specifically does in this company is that he designs toilets for these jets (not the washroom, but the actual toilet bowl). And it made me wonder how much work does it take to design toilets, cause he works 9 hours a day, 5 days a week, only designing toilets. But then I realized that when one pays $50 Million for a jet, they’d like the toilet to be tailored to their arses or, as my friend explained to me, some prefer to see the reflection of their urine and genitourinary organs in gold, while others prefer silver reflection (thank heavens for capitalism).

(Once I suggested that he designs a toilet bowl only for women – like urinals for men. Cause urinating for women is a pretty harsh and knee breaking experience. We have to half sit and half stand while aiming … let’s not get into the details and suffice to the fact that it’s a very uncomfortable experience. All he did was to say that it was a good idea, but I haven’t seen any sketches yet.)

Anyways, you might expect that he pees in a broken bowl at home while he designs them at work (according to the famous Persian proverb: “Koozegar …”); but you’ve guessed wrong. He’s actually designed the most fascinating toilet bowl ever for his apartment. Due to his love of music he’s designed a bowl that plays music synchronized with one’s urination. For example if you pee slowly in sinus rhythm from side to side, it’ll play Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake; If you urinate in incontinues but rhythmic fashion it’ll play Paul Oakenfold’s Global Underground. But the best part is when you manage to urinate one drop every 5 seconds for a minute it’ll play …? precisely my dear friends: Pink Floyd’s Echoes.

Pathway from “Cool” to “Ooshcool” (Enzyme: FNase)

When I was in school, I used to be one of the coolest kids music-wise (definitely not eyebrow and moustache-wise though). At my birthdays we were so high class that instead of dancing to Andy-Kooros, we danced (Pa-Technoed) to “Pump up the Jam” and “2Unlimited”, and I was this cool girl who kept talking about Metallica and Iron Maxiden (this is how I pronounced “Iron Maiden” due to its weird logo and my lack of Savaad).

The climax of my coolness was when I somehow managed to cry for Kurt Cobain’s death at the school’s morning recess, when everybody could see me, and while some kid was reading Qur’an in school’s microphone. The irony of it was that at that time not only I hadn’t listened to one of Nirvana’s albums completely, but also I enjoyed the mocked “Smells Like Teen Spirit” video way more than the actual one. To be exact, I couldn’t care less about his death, but being cool had its own practices.

And now, well, it’s sort of different. Not only I don’t listen to the new bands, I don’t even know their names. I just learned about Arctic Monkeys two months ago, and I just can’t listen to their music. I don’t know the difference between House and Drum n’ Bass, and I can’t listen to either of them more than 3 minutes. It’s really embarrassing when I go to a party and people start asking me “have you heard this song? What about this one? What about that one?” . They can’t believe their ears when I keep telling them No, No, No.

This is how from being cool, I’ve descended to a complete Ooshcool.

Biannual Cheapest Date Award

And the nominees are:

Manchooriana Navaishi

It was their first date. Manchooriana invites her to a fancy restaurant. It’s 6 degree Celsius and the wind is gushing. She’s wearing uncomfortable high heels and a tank top. He drives her to the restaurant in the fancy convertible BMW 330. There are no parking spots around. Valet parking is only $10. He won’t Valet. He drives in the streets around for 15 minutes to find a parking spot. He finally parks within a 10-minute-walk distance to the restaurant.
After they eat, he asks for the bill. The total is actually much lower than she expects. How does she know that? Cause he opens the bill right in front of her and starts re-adding and re-calculating all the prices and taxes. He leaves only 7 dollars in tips.

Amirovski Hossanovich

They’ve been dating for a week. No invitations to any kind of restaurants. He drives her to a local Iranian supermarket, in one of his CLK Mercedeses, buys Ghormesabzi and Gheyme, takes her to his apartment.
After a while He decides that it was time for her to work on her independence, so he asks her to take the metro to his apartment. To solve their hunger problem, they start ordering delivery pizza.
After a more while (!), she suggests that delivery pizza is more expensive than actually picking up the pizza from the restaurant. He realizes that she is right. So from then on he asks her to pick up the pizza on her way to his apartment.

Maniollah Al-Navali

He keeps asking her out. She hasn’t decided yet, she thinks he’s not the most generous parson in the world. They go for a drink. She insists that she wants to pay. She pays. On their way out he picks up the receipt (for $45) so he can claim it for tax deduction.

And the winner is …

Return of the Jedi

I love writing and I just discovered it. My blog entries are really really valuable to me. I stopped writing because I couldn’t bare the nasty and stupid comments written in some women’s blogs. But since I miss writing a lot I have a request from you nasty-comment-authors. Please leave your email address. I’d really like to tell you a few things in private.

For my friends, thank you SO MUCH for your support. You’ve been wonderful to me.

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It’s 11:07. It’s too bright. I don’t want to come out of the bed. I pull the blanket on my head. It’s better now. I don’t want to get up. Why am I here? There should be a mistake. I have nothing to do here any more. I want to go back to sleep, and dream. That dream, that I was in a big garden, with huge leaves, car-size frogs, and people hanged dead by ropes tied to the clouds. It was so calm. All I had to worry about was that one person who was coming to hang me too. It was quiet; people were swinging from their necks and every now and then a frog would jump. I’ve been betrayed by life. Everything has been a beautiful gift box for me, but empty. When I went to get the gift, to fill the boxes up, it was so out of shape that I couldn’t put it in any of the boxes. Now the boxes are getting old and the gift is becoming useless. I’m suffocating. There is too much air around here. I feel it going in. I hate it. I hate a lot of things. I hate almost everything and everyone. I’m tired. I’ve been tired since I was 17. I’ve been dragged and moved since I was born, but it was only at 17 that it hit me. I don’t want my toes out of the blanket. I want to stay here. Please just don’t talk to me. Let me be , as little as possible.

World Cup 2006

Watching the World Cup in Toronto is a lot of fun since there are people from all over the globe living here. So there is always celebration in some area of the city no matter who wins.

Before the Iran-Mexico game I painted Iran’s flag on my face and went down town for a walk. People naturally gave comments or “korkori”es as they passed . There was this one Brazilian guy who started talking about the teams. He said that we (Iran) can probably beat Mexico. I told him that not only we’re going to beat Mexico but we’ll win Brazil as well. For some reason he found it funny, and laughed a lot. I don’t know why!

Here are my comments about the World Cup 2006:

• If Brazil keeps playing the same way as they played against Croatia, there is no way any team can beat them (except Iran)!
  

• If Iran keeps playing the same way as they played against Mexico… he he he he!
  

• Iran could do much better if they let Moharram Navidkia play. Cause his birthday is the same day as mine, which means he’s extraordinarily talented.

• Are those models who did the puma fashion show for Iran’s football jerseys Iranian? If they are, do any of you know them? I’m deeply in love with all of them.

• This year’s games-TV-directing is not as good as the previous World Cups. I found some of the shots too wide, some missing moments, and some unnecessarily long close ups. –Ostad Lulufar Kubrick
  

• Overall I rate this World Cup as … Are you seriously still reading this blog entry?

Plastic Life

I’m totally pro developing children in vitro (out of living organism, in glass). Then these children should be given “the same opportunities” to start a life with. Then it would be fair. Some child wouldn’t be starving while the other one is sitting in a Porsche. Some kid won’t be abused by asshole parents while the other one is being spoiled in every possible way.

Life is so unkind to children, the innocent az-hameja-bikhabar little things. Because of a broken condom, two extra glasses of alcohol, the guy who promised a love which makes Romeo-and-Juliette-beran-boogh-bezanan, a solution to my-husband-doesn’t-love-me-anymore, a last name which should stay in the history, having a child to avoid loneliness in senior days, it’s-time-to-have-babies, or because ooops!-but-I’m-against-abortion some poor child should live a life in freaking hell with crazy parents, while watching her perfect friends’ lives.

Yes. I’m pro in vitro children, in a world which most people invisibly live in poverty, which children get abused everyday, and which is becoming worse in most ways.

Scenario 1a

- “Hi” oh my god, oh my god, I don’t have proper clothes on and I bump into him. My hair looks terrible. Be cool. Act cool.

- “Oh hey, How are you?”

- “I’m good what are you doing here?” It’s none of your business what he is doing here you idiot. Boys don’t like to be asked about what they’re doing. He looks really good today, as always. I should ask him for a coffee. No I should start slow. But I’ve known him for so long and that’s slow enough.

- “Buying a gift for my friend’s birthday. I can’t choose though”

- “I know. It’s really hard to buy gifts. I’m not gonna keep you here then. go do your shopping” He’s so sweet. Birthday present. Ask him for a coffee. Shit, is he still going out with that girl? I look really bad today. I really like him. I bet he doesn’t even have my phone number. Damn. Play cool. You won’t have a chance.

- “Yeah, OK, see you around then. Take care”

- “You too. Bye now” What if he said yes to coffee. He might like me. You ruined it again. You can’t turn around and ask for coffee now. Just keep going. I really like him.

Scenario 1b

- “Hey look who’s here.” Blank

- “Hi, How are you?”

- “I’m good, long time. What are you doing in this bar?” Blank

- “It’s my friend’s birthday. I can’t choose what to drink though”

- “Let’s go order drinks together. I’ve had a few too many, but I can still drink. You look really good tonight, as always. Do you still go out with that girl friend of yours? Cause if you don’t I’d love to see you more often. We can go for movies sometimes. Do you have my phone number?” Blank

- “Yeah, I do. Me and my girl friend sort of broke up last year”

- “Oh cool, I mean I’m sorry. Let’s go for a drink. Do you like my new shoes?” Blank

Scarecrow in Balcony

Today I helped my mom to change the soil for her plants. She basically does magic. Anything she dips in soil would grow. I go on the web and find all kinds of tips on growing beans (my obsession since elementary school), and the bean doesn’t grow half as much as the one my mom throws in one of her flower pots. Here is my mom and her babies:

That orange thing on the soil is pepper for the squirrel. Don’t even start on animal rights. We are one of those who don’t harm ants, who make sure cockroaches are alive in between napkin before throwing them out.

This squirrel has been our guest since 3 years ago. We live on 23^rd floor. She/he eats all flower buds, and digs down the pots to hide his valuable findings. This is her/his picture from last year.

This squirrel isn’t afraid of us. We walk towards her/him. We yell. Nada. Just continues digging and eating. We even tried the scarecrow in the next picture. That didn’t work either.

We also have a neighbor who every now and then stretches her neck into our balcony and gives us yummy pastries.

Us & Them

One of the most enjoyable activities in life is to participate in a girl-talk. When a bunch of girlfriends start talking about the untalkable, the discussion goes beyond imaginations, beyond speakable and beyond reason. Why beyond reason? Because it’s about boys, and boys are beyond reason.

Let me give you an example. One of this girl-group’s members (let’s call her Leila) starts seeing a guy. In one of these girl gatherings she shares information about the guy; and yes, it does include all sort of information including dimensions, behavior, etc.. Then the girls start giving tips based on their experiences so that this new relationship works. One of the girls suggests (more like orders) that Leila shouldn’t sleep with this guy until they’ve gone out 5 times. Some girls start laughing at this comment, some agree with her, and some suggest even more than 5 times.

First I thought to myself that this was a really lame suggestion. I was amongst those who laughed. But when I think of it I have to admit that it actually is very true for most of the guys. Girls should avoid early sex so that the guy likes her and starts a serious relationship with her. Girls back me up. Guys I know you might say no but come on…

So dear gentlemen, what exactly is wrong with you? Would you sacrifice a good relationship for a onetime sex? Say you like a girl. You go for a date. The opportunity turns up and you can get lucky (as you call it). So why would you sleep with her when you know you won’t like her as much afterward. Why don’t you just hold back, hang out for a while (5 times or whatever it takes) so you can like the girl? Why do you sacrifice a good relationship for a one night orgasm?

This is why I say guys are beyond reason. Girls? The most reasonable entities on planet earth. OK. OK. We can be complicated sometimes.

P.S. there are always exceptions.

Tuberculosis, Digoxin, Bloody Anus, Buttocks, Back Pain, Massage, Massage, Massage

I need to go to a spa beside an ocean. I want to lie down on a white bed under the sun, close my eyes while listening to the waves breaking. I'll get a body wax, facial and a good massage. Then someone does my hair and put a tropical flower in it.

Ooh… this is so magazine-photo cliché. But whenever I have to study (which means I look and feel like crap) these stupid photos become really attractive.

P.S. There’s going to be a red martini beside my bed too.

:*

You don’t normally find me wearing lipstick. But on the contrary to what it looks, for me, wearing lipstick is one the most relaxing and cheerful things to do. I turn up the music, take a red lipstick and go in front of a mirror. I open the cap, spin the bottom and watch the perfect red cylinder revolve upward. Openning my mouth a bit, I press the tip of the lipstick gently on the right corner of my lower lip. I slide it to the left. Then I press it on my upper lip, this time more careful with the middle section, the two protrudes. Looking at my lips in the mirror I press them together and rub them against each other. I relax my lips and open my mouth a bit so that I can see the contrast of the white of my teeth with the red of my lips. I smile, grab a piece of napkin, clean off the lipstick and walk away from the mirror.

1-2-3

If I have a crush on someone and if I find that someone sitting alone doing nothing I’d probably approach him and start a conversation. For some strange reason talking about the weather becomes the most appealing topic I can find. So I’d start with some stupid fact about it like “the weather’s been really nice for the past week in Toronto”. Like he didn’t know it. I might’ve as well said that “the sky is blue” or “apple is a fruit” (what is it with having a crush and becoming a total idiot?)

Then I usually move to the topic of what-do-you-do which is ridiculous again, since having a crush on him means that I probably know every detail about him by now. The next topic would be the latest movies we’ve seen. I’ll comment on stupidity of fans of The Da Vinci Code, and to show off I would throw a Kieslowski or Kubrick here and there.

Enjoying my deep-shallow conversation with the guy, for some strange reason, Angelina Jolie all of a sudden pops up in our discussion. In an instant the guy’s eyes glow, his muscles twitches and he starts talking about her, saying how much he adores her.

My brain hangs for a few seconds. I think to myself what on the earth am I doing here? This guy likes Angelina Jolie, while my whole body mass is less that one of her breasts. So I stand up and say “Enjoy Toronto’s weather. I have to leave now.”

Decisions, Decisions

I have trouble making decisions for small things like the food I want to order. When it comes to big things I don’t have trouble anymore, I simply can’t make any. I mean how can you make a big decision that would affect all your life? How can you decide to get married to someone? In one instant you can ruin your life by saying “yes” to the wrong guy. I mean how can you decide to spend the rest of your life with one person? What if you regret it a week before the ceremony? What if after marriage you realize that the guy has nose-picking habit (You know, one of those who digs in their nose for a minute, takes out the little thing, stares at it carefully, rolls it, and shoots it away). Probably the only way I’d say “yes” without chickening out the next day would be a guy proposing to me while he has a loaded shotgun pointed to my brain.

Kheyli Merci

Last month a friend of mine told me that he was going to send me some music CDs from Iran. Yesterday the parcel arrived. On my way out I picked up the parcel from the post office. I opened it on the metro. There was a Persian calendar, a cute scarf, a card, and an iPod. He had uploaded the music on an iPod. It was my graduation gift. The first graduation gift I’ve received since my graduation. I wore the headphone, hit the play, got off the train, found a park. I lie down on the grass in the beautiful weather and watched the trees, the squirrels, the birds, the sky, and thought to myself: Beaucoup de mes amis sont venus des nuages …