Bambi’s post on the Rayak Train Station was recently featured in a list of the “Top 15 Links From Around the Web.” It’s a cool round-up of interesting links on “Urban Exploration, World History & More” – check them out here.
1. Movie Star Foreign Accents
You’re a celebrity who’s spent their life reading English scripts, you’ve been in an English speaking country for over 20 years of your life, and you still speak with a thick accent or improper grammar. Look, if my dad can talk like he grew up in Brooklyn when he’s actually from the Jnoob (South Lebanon) while only making rare mispronunciations with certain words due to his French high school education, then Salma Hayek and Jackie Chan can cut the bullshit. I’m so sure they speak with perfect accents but Salma knows it makes her sound sexy and Jackie – well, I can’t explain that one because it’s just annoying. The only person who should be allowed to get away with this is the Governator because it makes him the Governator.
2. The Hipster Loop
If everything’s too mainstream for you, you’re a hipster. So when hipster becomes mainstream, are you a hipster hipster? Or does it cancel out and you go back into the mainstream category? And if all hipsters don’t like anything mainstream doesn’t that effectively become a mainstream ideology? Therefore, there is no real hipster culture, just people in Converse, plaid pants, and black frames talking about quinoa tabbouli. Just eat the borghol.
3. Space Station Life
There has been talk about people living on space stations since…the 1980s? Let’s just say the 1980’s thanks to Kubrick to sound sophisticated. In reality, ever since you saw Zenon on Disney, you thought you could wear horrible neon styrofoam lined clothing and put tin foil in your hair. You could live in a floating watergun in space. By 2049, you’ll be dreaming about Earth’s simpler times, tracking down vintage Chuck Taylors, growing synthetic tomatoes in test tubes and humming Protozoa’s classic hit. It’s all lies. You’ll be doing exactly what you’re doing now and absolutely nothing would’ve changed except that everything is owned by Apple and Oprah.
4. Unfinished BIC Pens
Where do they go? In your academic and professional life, how many of these have you purchased? And out of that number how many have you actually finished and thrown away? Less than 2% – because you lose them. Or they’re borrowed and never returned (i.e. lent to friends and annoying peoplewho ask you for a pen before an exam as you unzip your pencilcase so you can’t say no). Or MAYBE there are BIC elves stealing them to extract the ink so they can make robotic jellyfish more realistic in espionage missions. Totally not far-fetched.
5. Google & Facebook Employees
…know your deepest darkest secrets. They have access to your entire life. They read your message threads, your gchat transcripts, and they know how many times (and how much time) you spend on each person’s profile. Since they’ve become such big corporations, there is at least one person from your graduating class that is or will be working for them and will, as a result, have the ability to own you for life. Even with confidentiality contracts that bind them and keep them silent, you will never know what they’re really asking when they ask “so how’ve you been?” “Oh, I’ve been fine.” “Yeah, I know.”
In honor of his newly released album (which was available for free on iTunes last week and will be followed by part 2 of the 20/20 Experience later this year) and official video for “Mirrors”, here are the reasons why Justin Timberlake has been dubbed “The Best Justin in the World”:
- The song used above is said to be the retelling of his grandparents’ love story and that’s who it’s dedicated to, William & Sadie
- JT is the man of boy bands. And before you go screaming about Michael and the Jackson 5, Michael Jackson doesn’t get the title because, regardless of his J5 days, Michael is king. *Nsync was a big part of JT’s emergence as a musical artist but the Jerry curl and toxic Britney was just a phase…that made him millions. Deep down, you all have a favorite *Nsync song. It’s tearing up my heart and yours to deny it, but this I promise you, you’re not alone. When you’re listening to *Nsync, know that I see right through you and that at least one other person is listening to them too- most likely, it’s gonna be me. By the way, Rami Yacoub, one of the songwriters for *Nsync (and other pop stars) is of Lebanese origin. WHAT UP.
- His acting chops will get better. I’m still waiting for that breakthrough acting performance. Remember when we all thought Leo couldn’t act? Well now, Leonardo DiCaprio:Martin Scorsese::Johnny Depp:Tim Burton (without the costumes, undead drag queen makeup, and whoknowswhat with Helena Bonham Carter) It’s only a matter of time before JT drowns in the freezing Atlantic and comes back as [insert awesome director here]’s puppet.
- Jessica Biel. Dat ass. Nuff said.
- He’s Timbs’ muse, he can work a suit & tie, and thus he has the Jay seal of approval (turns out you have to score a 40/40 on those S-A-Zs and that’s what he’s indirectly referring to by his album title. Duh.)
- He can dance better than Be in a spandex leotard. Again no offense Be, I love you, please don’t hurt me.
- Being a Mickey Mouse Club member from Memphis, he started from the bottom and won’t throw snowballs at you from a Bentley
- He’s not ashamed to cry to his mommy when you take away his toys
- And he will always be the best Justin in the world because of this song. I have praised this song before, but unless he learns the rest of the English language, I don’t beliebe the Bieb could ever come close to a melody like that.
Much like this scene in Finding Nemo, post-grad twenty-somethings are poor little fish caught in a plastic bag thinking “now what?” We spend all our lives living in a bubble that protects us but, eventually, we’re going to need to pop it if we want to continue to survive. YOLO. No, that’s not a link to Drake.
Now that I feel I’ve said something profound enough to merit a blogpost, I will say what I actually wanted to say:
1.) I’m flying off to Singapore for 10 days and will be disconnected for a while. I WILL be back though – with pictures and stories.
2.) First week of Feb marks the 1-year anniversary of Bambi’s Soapbox. Hooray!
Thank you all for reading! I’ll be posting appetizers on the Facebook page (so LIKE it if you haven’t already) See you back here in 2 weeks!
So it’s been almost a month since NYE, how are those resolutions going?
1. “I’m going to drink less coffee.”
What actually happens: Migraines. Hangovers. Not sleeping in general because you’re too busy THINKING at 1 in the morning…or streaming a show that you can see the next day at a normal hour but refuse to wait another 24 hours because you have to know if she’s actually pregnant. It changes everything, DON’T DENY IT.
2. “I’m going to spend less time stalking people on Facebook.”
What actually happens: as soon as you open your browser, you type “f” into the address bar without even thinking. “It’s just to see what’s going on, it’s not like I’m going to investigate anyth– who the heck is that?” *2 hours later* “Oh, it’s just her half-brother from the previous marriage that got annulled in Cambodia.” You didn’t even know the date of her birthday in the morning.
3. “I’m going to exercise more, maybe even start yoga.”
What actually happens: you go to sleep.
4. “I’m going to say ‘yes’ more, you know be spontaneous and shit.”
What actually happens: you say ‘yes’ to the wrong things, go broke, invest in stupid dead-ends, eat too much garlic bread, gain weight, do a crash diet before summertime, cry, stick your head out the window of a moving car, hit a tree with your face, and laugh at funerals because you keep remembering this scene and you don’t know why.
5. “I’m going to stop wearing sweatpants to work.”
What actually happens: you wake up on Thursday, the thought that it’s still not Friday dawns on you, and you don’t want to leave your bed because your covers are hugging you back like they’re a Nicolas Sparks character. Wear jeans and spend the next 30 minutes bothering to look like you didn’t crawl out from under a rock? Nah, bring on the Adidas swish-when-you-walk-I’m-going-skydiving-but-I’m-so-not pants.
6. “I’m going to move out of my parents’ house.”
What actually happens: paying rent happens. No thanks, I’m good.
7. “I’m going to travel at least twice this year.”
What actually happens: you might travel once and allow that family roadtrip you took to count as a second time because you were in this village that looked like you landed on Mars because the rock formations were weird as f**k and you know you weren’t tripping on substances with your parents even though your dad started talking Spanish to a UNIFIL dude and you were convinced he did the chihuahua VO for Taco Bell commercials.
8. “I’m going to save more and spend less.”
What actually happens: You eat a lot of French steak with that creamy green sauce and you’re like, “I’m young and I want to enjoy my hard-earned cash, damn it.” You spend the last two and a half weeks of the month making chicken broth soup and visiting your Teta for quality time…and djeij bil forn.
The only resolution you really need to implement: Be Happy.
“…I have twenty minutes to go to the forn and get breakfast before I have class but I need 5 minutes to vacuum the manoushe I hope there’s no hair in it this time OMG remember when that old woman licked her thumb before kneading the dough no wonder that place closed but they were such a cute old couple I wonder if the guy died don’t think about death why is everyone looking at me funny I probably have something on my face it’s that damn zit wait a second maybe I look really good today I mean my hair was doing that flip thing that woman’s asking for donations again no I don’t have a spare second and I can’t remember the last thing Greenpeace actually did stop honking I don’t want a damn taxi isn’t it obvious I’m walking this is why there are so many accidents and traffic your car is so creepy you probably have a bottle of Jack under your seat yeah blasting that Childish Gambino you can’t mess with me I’m going to cross the street and give the little wave that translates into dont-kill-me-with-your-SUV-thank-you-kind-sir holy crap H&M has a sale but their stuff is such bad quality but it’s good for basics like tshirts and funky accessories that are made in a factory in Indonesia on the other side of the world where is the forn should I get cheese with khodra or maybe just zaatar I shouldn’t be eating so much 3ajeen but they say zaatar is good for the brain but so is reading and you haven’t done that in a while you spend so much money on books that you haven’t even opened but you’re building a library you’ll get to them when you have the time you should make time they take up space but that’s why you got a Kindle WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE there’s so many people in line why didn’t I just have cereal at home because you don’t wake up hungry are you even hungry now you should eat breakfast it’s better than bingeing later forget it you’re going to be late and then you won’t be able to leave early to get to your car before you get a ticket what is wrong with the municipalities there are barely any parking lots left and now we have to pay by the hour unless you find those streets without meters but you end up losing your side mirror because people can’t drive at a normal speed through tight roads and you have to squeeze through just to be sure you don’t hit anything it’s so nerve wracking trying to parallel park on these itty bitty roads with plastic-chair-spot-savers you’re looking for a spot and some pedestrian pops out and crosses the street waving like that makes up for the fact that I almost killed you just because you’re walking and I can make you a human pancake doesn’t mean you should just jump in front of my car use the nonexistent sidewalks yeah yeah smile like you’re grateful I let you live I hate pedestrians”
First let me say that I am incredibly flattered by the level of your passion for me. I do think that feelings of this intensity are a beautiful thing when they are well-placed. Yours are so powerful…like I can run, I can die but I can’t escape your love. That would be endearing if it didn’t sound like you were actually willing to test the theory.
Second, honest to God, I wish that there was a part of me that felt the way you do because I have always wanted an all-consuming love affair with a man who isn’t afraid to wear a beanie. The problem though is that I want that longing to be reciprocal and you’ve begun to scare me with your fierce adoration.
I know you’re going to throw this back in my face and say that I’m in a rush to throw you away but it’s not like that. Don’t be offended that I’m taking legal action, we can be friends. From a distance. If you asked me to dance, I would dance. If you asked me to run, I would definitely run and never look back. I wouldn’t cry if I saw you crying though because you love to see me cry. I cry because the fact that you love to see me cry freaks me out so I cry some more and you just keep on loving and it’s this vicious cycle, you know? Don’t be sad either – think of it as just another Monday night.
Please don’t feel like I’m a mentiroso. I’ve told you all about this before and I know you’re tired of being sorry so this is the perfect arrangement for the both of us. You’re not in love habibi, it’s just a phase that you’re going through. I know you will survive.
This is about something we all know quite well: the numerous things that you just don’t know how to say no to. The Achille’s heel is supposed to be one thing that can lead to your entire downfall. However, since we’re mere mortal humans, our heels change over time and are a ginormous cornucopia of random weaknesses.
Depending on your stage in life as well as your personality(ies), although these things could be your guilty pleasures, they are the reasons you lose control. They also differ in importance – the more important you think they are, the more they’re going to screw you up, and the less likely you’re going to say no to them when given the chance to indulge. That’s the worst vicious cycle: knowing how bad it is for you and wanting it even more.
There is also a correlation with consequences – the bigger the consequence should mean you will definitely say no. But the temptation to give in anyway is also greater because the consequence is something that comes later – it’s effect is like your grandpa’s vineyard in the north: you’ve heard it exists but maybe you’ll never see it. This condition is most applicable to foodstuff heels: you know eating a whole plate of Texas fries solo is in no way advisable for your digestive tract’s well being or the size of your thighs, but that cheddar is so fine and onions are good for your heart. It’ll only take 4 trips to the gym to work off…the sour cream alone.
There may be some sort of a mathematical formula that can be deduced using these the two variables: (c) consequence level and (i) importance level, where c and i are values (0-10) and x is an integer (-10<;x<;10).
The formula would be simple: (i-c)=x.
x >; 0 you will say yes.
x <; 0 you will say no.
x = 0 you will reevaluate the values of c & i.
x is the Achilles’ Louboutin Factor.
Activity: Compulsive match lighting until the box is empty. It could be that it’s an activity that fascinates the inner caveperson but the whole sensory experience is so exciting. The scratch against the sandpaper, the smell of the sulphur tip, the sound of the flame erupting, and IGNITE. If you could taste fire, this would be a fully sensational pyromaniac orgasm.
i = Reread the last 4 words of the previous sentence = 10.
c = Worst-case scenario: uncontrolled fire and death, most probable consequence: burnt finger = 3.
x = 7. Therefore, in the words of R. Kelly, “burn it up.”
Activity: Sitting on the AUB Green Oval when you should be at home/in a coffee shop/anywhere else studying for your midterm, applying for jobs, doing-any-activity-that-is-a-more-responsible-use-of-time. The sun is shining and there are no beetles around. Just in case the beetles return, the fat fluffy cat with the heart shape on her back is sunbathing nearby.
i = It’d be a lovely afternoon, you could nap, be fully recharged and happy = 6.
c = Worst-case scenario: you get heat stroke and feel queasy for 3 days, most probable consequence: have too much time to think while staring at the clouds and have a mental breakdown due to all the guilt weighing down on you for not working at that very moment= 6.
x = 0. Take a deep breath and re-evaluate.
Activity: Hanging out with your circle. A Motley Crüe of characters that could easily be scripted into a primetime show on the CW who see each other during a window of 2 weeks once a year, have a domino effect of inside jokes & witty innuendos, and are the kings and queens of awkward politically incorrect statements and/or situations.
i = There is only so much time before this little circle will disintegrate into work schedules, in-laws, and diapers. Gone will be the days of flinging a boomerang of insults around a table, followed by a trail of “you know I love you’s.” However, your steady life has not been put on hold because some airplanes landed so there are obligations you need to deal with= 7.
c = Worse-case scenario: you neglect other responsibilities and you become a failure forever, most probable consequence: your family lectures you for ditching them during the holidays for the same people you saw 2 days before = 3.
x = 4. It was a DVD night with nachos. How could you say no?
Activity: Beautiful cookie tins, bottles, and packages. Limited edition bottles, collectible sets, holiday themed giftboxes. You live in a room that is decorated in items that would make a burglar think you are a raging alcoholic who’s diet consists of chocolate, toffee, and macaroons. Of course, only half of that is true. It’s Christmas season and there’s this tin of an embossed crest of Gryffindor with mini Ferrero Rocher chocolate snitches in it.
i = You have no space to put this awesomely useless material possession that will only make you fat. But it’s SO COOL = 6.
c = Worse-case scenario: you get fat, and the tin gets thrown away by your evil sister, most probable consequence: you just wasted $35 on another piece of junk that makes you so happy, you complete dork = 9.
x = -3. Ask for it as a gift…IF IT EXISTS BECAUSE I MADE IT UP. *tear*
Activity: Starting a blog where you pin your own personal stories on your readers by using a general “you” format so that they don’t realize what a weirdo you are. You reassure yourself that you’re making them feel comfortable with their own level of ab/normalcy because your act is fooling no one.
i = It used to be an anonymous outlet of randomness you started for fun but now it’s become your own little project(ion). = 8.
c = Worse-case scenario: you get sent to a facility for weird people AKA “design school” or someone steals your genius theories, most probable consequence: you eventually run out of things to write about and convert it into a photoblog of cups of Dunkin coffee on different locational backdrops, titled “I got the Dunk.” = 6.
x = 2. “You” keep blogging.
1. Self Sacrifice
Your own health, sanity, and temperature are not important when your personal computer is around. If it’s pouring rain, you will tuck your waterproof-cased laptop under your shirt for fear that the drops are of low pH and the acidity will penetrate right through the shell and melt your screen. When something happens to it, like falling to the ground for example, you rush to see if it’s okay inspecting for dents or cracks. If this were a person, you would be laughing your ass off because they made a hilariously terrified expression before their impersonation of Humpty Dumpty. The fact that they nearly missed the jagged metal from that construction site makes it funnier because the hilarity of their expression is equally proportional to the probability of death or dismemberment.
2. Soccer Mom Arm Move
You’re on your way to work and your baby, like any significant other, sits in the passenger seat. Whenever the impulse to slam on the brakes occurs, you bust out the Soccer Mom Arm Move. This move is when you reflexively jut out your right arm to protect the PERSON next to you from catapulting through the windshield. Your laptop will not do this because it is not the weight of a small elephant. It will slide off the seat and on to the floor of your car completely unscathed because it’s sealed in a bulletproof bag.
3. Lying to Protect It
“Can I download this on your computer? Mine’s downstairs and I just need to open a file”, “No, it doesn’t have the right software to play that file anyway so it’ll just be a waste of time but I’m sure you can use the computer in the lab.” Get your illegally downloaded virus-infested malware away from my baby. It’s like the first time you were left at home by yourself by accident; as you’re watching Home Alone dressed up in your mom’s purple evening gown, you are interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. You tell the unexpected carpenter that your parents ARE at home, they’re just both in the shower and that he can just wait outside if necessary. At the age of 9, you don’t know that the lie you’ve just told a complete stranger is probably more graphically disturbing than the truth, but you’re lying to protect yourself so whatever.
4. Worried All the Time
They say that having children feels like allowing your heart to walk around outside of your body. When you leave your laptop somewhere unattended for short periods of time, you have what can only be described as separation anxiety. What if it’s stolen? What if it gets mistreated? What if someone takes advantage of its kindness? What if someone logs on to my Facebook, reads all my private messages, and owns me for life after changing my password? What if someone steals that folder named somethingnonchalantonlyasadisguiseforwhatitactuallycontains? OMG, MY CAT PICTURES.
You will have conversations of all kinds: pep talks, venting, discussions. When it’s slow, not responding, freezing, or giving you the color wheel of death, you begin to cheer it on and pray for it to pull through this tough time. No baby, please, you can do this, don’t let me down, I love you. You will also curse it out when your file crashes anyway with no recovery, or when “Google Chrome has quit unexpectedly.” Your face has quit unexpectedly, hoe. You will ask it questions while singing along to Body II Body, what ever happened to Samantha Mumba? She had potential. She could’ve been one of the first generation of Mark Wahlberg and Helena Bonham Carter offspring apeople in Planet of the Apes: Evolution.
You will realize that you’re talking to a computer that doesn’t love, think, or care about you but it’s okay because they all leave the nest sometime. You will get over it because you’ll have the younger ones to think about.
YAY, #firstworldproblems galore.
1. Canker Sore
Not to be confused with the lovely herpes-of-the-mouth, these yummy beauties attack the inside of your piehole. It hurts to smile – even more so when you imagine weird insects laying eggs in the sore leaving you to think they’re hatching whenever it tingles. Yes, movies are good for your imagination. Canker sores are so much fun, especially in a country that loves lemon on everything. It’s like our Windex. Wait that’s not right, olive oil is our Windex. There ya go, rub olive oil on your…canker sore. That turned out less kinky that you thought it would. HA.
How something so small can cause so much pain is amazing –
that’s what she said? Remember all those trees we cut to make paper? Yeah, it’s called karma. We cut them, they cut us. It’s the same logic that goes behind avoiding nuclear war: mutually assured destruction. The only minor difference is that we get over it but they’re still dead. Final Destination 37 will have someone die from too many papercuts. That, or The Happening 2 which will hopefully never happen.
3. Nail/Skin Separation
It’s when you’re trying to open something and the skin beneath your nail separates slightly from it leaving you to wish there was 23 meters of gauze that you could use to wrap it up so you don’t have to feel it anymore. They’re like married couples with a joint Facebook profile: two separate entities just fused together into one hermaphroditic blob. You mean that’s not what they meant to do? You mean they just want to share everything and cease to exist as a sole being because they’re one now? You mean your nail/skin doesn’t have reproductive organs of both sexes? TANGENT ALERT. Just saying, you don’t want them to separate, you want the melded, welded, matrimonial fingernails. Get some high quality Mickey Mouse Band-Aids. None of those $1 store Dou-Bang knock-offs. Cut off that circulation good.
4. Mosquito Bite(s) on Knuckle
You’re vegetating on the couch, minding your own business, eating Ministrels and remembering how Wedding-Planner-J.Lo said the brown chocolates have less artificial coloring in them (I’ll have you know they have “Quinoline Yellow, Carmoisine, Ponceau 4R, and Indigo Carmine” – ALL ARTIFICIAL), when you notice a flying vixen has made off with your blood. Twice. From your knuckle. It itches for 3 years.
5. Fajita Plate Burn
“Oh look, my apple crumb fritter breaded heartattack looks so scrumptious. Picture time! AH MY THUMB!” You just had to Instagram that hoe. No number of likes is going to soothe that growing bubble. And toothpaste is just a myth. That growing pagoda firework during the 4th of July on the driveway? Awesomesauce until it disintegrated right after it took my index finger hostage. The toothpaste did nothing but make me smell like a 11-year-old dental hygienist. It was all a lie. Cold water is your only friend here. And wrap that shit up, it’s nasty.
6. Stubbed Toe
WHERE THE FUDGE DID THAT TABLE COME FROM?!
7. Sleeping Limbs
Your body parts just fail on you. “You’re not using me? Fine, I’m out” and you become one of those bamboo rain sticks – if someone flipped you over, you’d make rain sounds because you’re full of rice, exist to decorate, and have no purpose whatsoever. The only use those things could possibly have is to be a conversation starter through a bad pick-up line: “If you touch my stick, Imma make it rain.” Again, this is why the trees are mad at us. Anyway, you’re Lieutenant Dan-ing the Forrest Gumps around you, waiting for the feeling to come back whimpering “I can’t feel my legs” like you’ve barely survived military warfare. Then a muscle cramp surprises you instead. Those muscle cramps that sneak up on you are the bee’s knees. No really, they are because when that random pain jolts up your thigh, you’re going to wish you could just sting something and die. Ah, poetry.
F.Y.I. – I know that “unfatal” is not a word and that the correct term is “nonfatal.” It’s on purpose, Mom.