April 4th, 2006
Hi there once again. Marhaba. Como estes.
This week is going to be an hectic one, but for some reason I do not appear to sound so dejected. Right. I am off on a ‘two week’ break, and I am going to keep this away as a secret from everyone. Tee Hee.
I hope quite a few got the chance to read our interview in Khaleej Times this week. It was a nice interview and Lubna Al Midfa did a terribly good job which I hope will attract some much needed attraction to our venture. However, cannot say the same for the photographer who had been shoving the camera right inside my face, and my foto made me look old and decrepit. Priscilla, our training coordinator corrected me and said, ‘Ayadh, you are old and decrepit!’ I wonder from where they all get their imagination.
I used to get plenty of ideas before to write poetry or merely add bits and pieces to my repertoire. So I’d keep this little notebook next to me, even when I was asleep in the night. This hasn’t happened to me for some time, and again Priscilla thinks it is due to the fact that I badly need a haircut. Haircut! What hair? Have you heard the catch phrase, Here today, gone tomorrow. Well, my story is all about, Hair today, gone tomorrow.
Writing is perhaps one of the loneliest jobs in the world. The only way it will work is if you are in love with someone. Someone, that’s YOU. If you love your company, then you are indeed a great writer. But nothing beats the propinquity, the warm human contact and a vague sense of being wanted, when all you want to do is to write and get published. So, how difficult is it to get a book published by a commercial publisher?
Well, the odds are better gambling in Las Vegas. It has been estimated that 25 million people in the United States consider themselves writers and only 5% have been published anywhere. In Dubai, we have an estimated 50 % of the population who wished they were writers, and perhaps only a meager 0.5% have had the defeated opportunity of getting their work read, and let alone being published. So, does that make sense to you. Better, take a job elsewhere.
A friend who read my second novel told me that the book was quite rated. Well, I know it has a lot of sex stuff in it. But then, isn’t that a part of our every day life. We all wouldn’t have been here if that had been a taboo word all along. And sex is healthy, mind you, and one of the few inlets into one’s spiritual mind or self. A private education on this would make it more feasible as then I wouldn’t annoy some of my (little narrow minded) brethren.
By the way, I have decided to rewrite my second book. I have thought of adding some value to the characters by introducing new ones to complement them. You will like them. There is Tina, an 18 year old girl, voluptuous and bubbly, full of life, and she uses such words like, ‘gook’ (good + ok), ‘sibilly’ (silly + billy), ‘sweepie’ (sweetie + pie), ‘odokie’ (okie + dokie) and ‘Extrange’ (extra +strange). Then there is Jud, her drooling friend who is obsessed with the idea that he is the most comical person in the world, and suffering from mythomania, and is forever mimicking and deriding others.
I think I will give up laying tennis forever. Not that I want to give it up, but last week I had the ultimate of all pleasures when down 4-1 against a rampant Paul, and also love thirty down, I mustered al my strength and came from behind to humble him 6-4. I am certain I will not be able to emulate this ever again. So, what is the challenge then in continuing playing.
My pretty friend Aimee Pecile from Canada, (who I also call, My little fairy princess) sent me this joke. I thought it was very funny, so I needed to share it with all of you’ll.
WHAT DO RETIRED PEOPLE DO ALL DAY?
Working people frequently ask retired peoplewhat they do to make their days interesting.
Well for example, the other day I went into
town and went into a shop.
I was only in there forabout five minutes. When I came out there was a cop
writing out a parking ticket.
I went up to him and said, "Come on man,how about giving a senior citizen a break?"
He ignored me and continued writing the ticket.
I called him a Nazi bastard. He glared at meand started writing another ticket for having worn tires.
So I called him a s---head. He finished thesecond ticket and put it on the windshield with the first.
Then he started writing a third ticket.
This went on for about 20 minutes.
The more I abused him, the more tickets he wrote .
Personally, I didn't care. I came into town by bus.
I try to have a little fun each day now that I'm retired.
It's important at my age.
By the way, I am nearing retirement age too, so beware if you see that many tickets tucked against your windshield wiper, then guess who has been trying to get ready to take the plunge into a ‘no-work- man’s’ land.
I was challenged to show off my culinary skills the other day, and I decided it would be great if I self-learn how to make myself an omelet. No one told me that cutting onions would leave one to cry, and that the tomato soft-inside should not be used in the egg mix. In the end, I got myself a fluffy, sludgy, vague sort of thing that tasted like an omelet, but looked like a concoction of . . . er whatever. It did taste kinda nice, and I managed to finish the last morsel. So there!
Well, I guess it is time for me to go, and hope to write to you once again when I do return from my vacation.Take care amigos, and/or Linda senoritas from all over the world. I am off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz.
This week is going to be an hectic one, but for some reason I do not appear to sound so dejected. Right. I am off on a ‘two week’ break, and I am going to keep this away as a secret from everyone. Tee Hee.
I hope quite a few got the chance to read our interview in Khaleej Times this week. It was a nice interview and Lubna Al Midfa did a terribly good job which I hope will attract some much needed attraction to our venture. However, cannot say the same for the photographer who had been shoving the camera right inside my face, and my foto made me look old and decrepit. Priscilla, our training coordinator corrected me and said, ‘Ayadh, you are old and decrepit!’ I wonder from where they all get their imagination.
I used to get plenty of ideas before to write poetry or merely add bits and pieces to my repertoire. So I’d keep this little notebook next to me, even when I was asleep in the night. This hasn’t happened to me for some time, and again Priscilla thinks it is due to the fact that I badly need a haircut. Haircut! What hair? Have you heard the catch phrase, Here today, gone tomorrow. Well, my story is all about, Hair today, gone tomorrow.
Writing is perhaps one of the loneliest jobs in the world. The only way it will work is if you are in love with someone. Someone, that’s YOU. If you love your company, then you are indeed a great writer. But nothing beats the propinquity, the warm human contact and a vague sense of being wanted, when all you want to do is to write and get published. So, how difficult is it to get a book published by a commercial publisher?
Well, the odds are better gambling in Las Vegas. It has been estimated that 25 million people in the United States consider themselves writers and only 5% have been published anywhere. In Dubai, we have an estimated 50 % of the population who wished they were writers, and perhaps only a meager 0.5% have had the defeated opportunity of getting their work read, and let alone being published. So, does that make sense to you. Better, take a job elsewhere.
A friend who read my second novel told me that the book was quite rated. Well, I know it has a lot of sex stuff in it. But then, isn’t that a part of our every day life. We all wouldn’t have been here if that had been a taboo word all along. And sex is healthy, mind you, and one of the few inlets into one’s spiritual mind or self. A private education on this would make it more feasible as then I wouldn’t annoy some of my (little narrow minded) brethren.
By the way, I have decided to rewrite my second book. I have thought of adding some value to the characters by introducing new ones to complement them. You will like them. There is Tina, an 18 year old girl, voluptuous and bubbly, full of life, and she uses such words like, ‘gook’ (good + ok), ‘sibilly’ (silly + billy), ‘sweepie’ (sweetie + pie), ‘odokie’ (okie + dokie) and ‘Extrange’ (extra +strange). Then there is Jud, her drooling friend who is obsessed with the idea that he is the most comical person in the world, and suffering from mythomania, and is forever mimicking and deriding others.
I think I will give up laying tennis forever. Not that I want to give it up, but last week I had the ultimate of all pleasures when down 4-1 against a rampant Paul, and also love thirty down, I mustered al my strength and came from behind to humble him 6-4. I am certain I will not be able to emulate this ever again. So, what is the challenge then in continuing playing.
My pretty friend Aimee Pecile from Canada, (who I also call, My little fairy princess) sent me this joke. I thought it was very funny, so I needed to share it with all of you’ll.
WHAT DO RETIRED PEOPLE DO ALL DAY?
Working people frequently ask retired peoplewhat they do to make their days interesting.
Well for example, the other day I went into
town and went into a shop.
I was only in there forabout five minutes. When I came out there was a cop
writing out a parking ticket.
I went up to him and said, "Come on man,how about giving a senior citizen a break?"
He ignored me and continued writing the ticket.
I called him a Nazi bastard. He glared at meand started writing another ticket for having worn tires.
So I called him a s---head. He finished thesecond ticket and put it on the windshield with the first.
Then he started writing a third ticket.
This went on for about 20 minutes.
The more I abused him, the more tickets he wrote .
Personally, I didn't care. I came into town by bus.
I try to have a little fun each day now that I'm retired.
It's important at my age.
By the way, I am nearing retirement age too, so beware if you see that many tickets tucked against your windshield wiper, then guess who has been trying to get ready to take the plunge into a ‘no-work- man’s’ land.
I was challenged to show off my culinary skills the other day, and I decided it would be great if I self-learn how to make myself an omelet. No one told me that cutting onions would leave one to cry, and that the tomato soft-inside should not be used in the egg mix. In the end, I got myself a fluffy, sludgy, vague sort of thing that tasted like an omelet, but looked like a concoction of . . . er whatever. It did taste kinda nice, and I managed to finish the last morsel. So there!
Well, I guess it is time for me to go, and hope to write to you once again when I do return from my vacation.Take care amigos, and/or Linda senoritas from all over the world. I am off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz.
posted by Ayadh at 7:57 PM
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