Before I begin, let me confess that I am supposed to be waiting for the start of a Saint Patrick's Day celebration hosted by my firm. The confession is that I have started before the celebration is to begin, and I should add, I have neither the genetic nor the religious right to participate in the celebration. Therefore, I am starting early to lessen the uncomfortable feeling of not truly belonging.
That having been said, I come to this blog not unlike those, and I am not one of them, who "read" Playboy. Sure, they say its for the articles, but I must admit that I come to this blog for the pictures, and freely admit to doing so for the solitary reason that, unlike "educated" people, I am unable to read Arabic, although I am somewhat versed in the Arabic numbering system and do not know what I would do without it.
This picture just kills me, and I wonder what could possibly be the point and the context. I wish that you had a side bar which translated your posts and the comments for us less "educated" emigrants.
No need to answer me. Still laughing, but thinking I may regret this tomorrow.
Another confession. Last night, after I returned home, I logged on thinking that I could delete my post simply by hitting the "trash can" button. For those who have at one time thought that putting a lampshade on their head was funny, you know what I am talking about. Unfortunately, Ihath, aided by three hours courtesy of her location on this globe, had already responded, thus foiling my original plans.
I logged off, feeling both honored and more than a little embarrassed. Now, I am back, and as one whose path is between Scylla and Charybdis, I pause to ponder my next move. (See what a liberal arts education can do? Be sure to give one to your children!)
The face, of course is LN's, who is not everywhere, although Ihath is. A facsimile of me is standing in a white shirt on the right, with every intention of reducing his belly. LN is either in the white sweater, first row, forth from the right, or in the blue shirt, third row, forth from the left. Personally, I cannot decide, but I do favor blue, especially that shade, so that is where I will go, and I will not hear from anyone, even LN herself, that it is not she. The picture, though, is of Ihath, and if you read this blog, or stare at the pictures as I do, you are there too.
٣:٣٥ مBefore I begin, let me confess that I am supposed to be waiting for the start of a Saint Patrick's Day celebration hosted by my firm. The confession is that I have started before the celebration is to begin, and I should add, I have neither the genetic nor the religious right to participate in the celebration. Therefore, I am starting early to lessen the uncomfortable feeling of not truly belonging.
That having been said, I come to this blog not unlike those, and I am not one of them, who "read" Playboy. Sure, they say its for the articles, but I must admit that I come to this blog for the pictures, and freely admit to doing so for the solitary reason that, unlike "educated" people, I am unable to read Arabic, although I am somewhat versed in the Arabic numbering system and do not know what I would do without it.
This picture just kills me, and I wonder what could possibly be the point and the context. I wish that you had a side bar which translated your posts and the comments for us less "educated" emigrants.
No need to answer me. Still laughing, but thinking I may regret this tomorrow.
٣:٤١ م
For you AngloGermanicAmerican and only for you I will provide this translation
---------------
Title : ihath everywhere
Two days ago we took a group picture at the office.
My co-worker altered it a bit and sent it to me. He named the picture: She is everywhere.
So what do you think of the picture?
Can you find the real ihath?
١:٤٥ م
Another confession. Last night, after I returned home, I logged on thinking that I could delete my post simply by hitting the "trash can" button. For those who have at one time thought that putting a lampshade on their head was funny, you know what I am talking about. Unfortunately, Ihath, aided by three hours courtesy of her location on this globe, had already responded, thus foiling my original plans.
I logged off, feeling both honored and more than a little embarrassed. Now, I am back, and as one whose path is between Scylla and Charybdis, I pause to ponder my next move. (See what a liberal arts education can do? Be sure to give one to your children!)
The face, of course is LN's, who is not everywhere, although Ihath is. A facsimile of me is standing in a white shirt on the right, with every intention of reducing his belly. LN is either in the white sweater, first row, forth from the right, or in the blue shirt, third row, forth from the left. Personally, I cannot decide, but I do favor blue, especially that shade, so that is where I will go, and I will not hear from anyone, even LN herself, that it is not she. The picture, though, is of Ihath, and if you read this blog, or stare at the pictures as I do, you are there too.
٥:٥٠ ص
..يا جميلة
هل تلبسي كنزة بيضاء؟
٨:٠٠ ص
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