Tuesday, November 30, 2010

The analysis of Analysis

I have just been to a session about philosophy, a sort of lecture, and the instructor has gone into the topics of analysis and synthesis. His idea was that analysis is not a good thing, and over-analysis is of the devil I guess (kidding :)). Even though I agree that analysis can be overwhelming at some point; the fact that you break down something into every tiny little spec of detail related to it remotely or otherwise, I do believe that proper analysis is a good thing, as long as we keep the bigger picture intact.

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Saturday, November 27, 2010

The Devil in me

When I was around 7 or 8, my dad got me a gold locket as a present (probably birthday present but I can’t really remember), but my dad and the jeweler were friends so my dad took the locket without really paying much attention to it. In his defence, he was incredibly short sighted and he worked really long hours, poor guy was beat every time he came home from work. So, Daddy presented me with the locket. At first when I saw it, I didn’t really get what he meant, but I accepted it and thanked him and kissed him and hugged him and all that. Then my mom took a look at it, she is incredibly far-sighted, and she couldn’t tell what it was either. I understood that my father got tricked really into buying the locket by his jeweler friend, and told my parents what the locket was; a tiny devil!

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Wednesday, November 24, 2010

The Theory of Friends

I got 403 friends on Facebook, that of course means real friends, close friends, friends of friends, family friends, coworkers, acquaintances, people I don’t really know but I’ve seen around, some people that I may actually dislike (very few though), and the list goes on. But in reality, I always seemed to have a sort of 1 close friend ever which is variable depending on my position in life at the moment, and some which are constant across several years. I have close friends and old friends and close friends who are old friends (or is it the other way around?).
I have also had my share of friends lost and friends forgotten. I say good riddance to some, I regret losing some, and some friendships are just broken beyond repair. There were times in my life when I went around without friends at all (I’m talking about the real deal not the Facebook people); if I needed to talk, there was no one there to talk back (the mirror worked fine then), and there was nothing to listen to, just the voices in my head. And since some of the lost friends were gone with some bloodshed, at some point in life, I made the decision to not have any close friends; the mirror still worked fine, and the voices kept me busy when there was no mirror around. I made this decision to save everyone a lot of blood, and to save whatever I had left of it running through my veins. But I guess that didn’t work all that well either. This is where I came up with The Theory of Friends. I don’t think that I am the only one who has reached that conclusion, in fact I know I am not the only one who has reached that conclusion, but I’ll still explain it all the same.

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Monday, November 22, 2010

The geeky T-shirt

I was out shopping a few days ago and I saw a T-shirt that I just HAD to buy! In my opinion, It represented a lot fo what I stand for, which is the bookish, geeky, yet interesting and funny type of person (at least I hope I do, please don’t burst my bubble). It looked cute, made me smile, made the people who noticed what it says smile, and it had a very profound message to all mankind.

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Wednesday, November 10, 2010

The Quest for­­­ the Waffle

A few weeks ago, my friend Sara and I decided to go on an adventure of rediscovering Cairo. We’d planned to go to the Coptic museum and maybe visit some of the ancient religious sites in the area of Masr-El-Kadeema (Yes we are very adventurous, we go to museums!!). The day was set, we had a plan, we got the directions from google, and we got up early in the morning – 9 am is very early for Saturday morning – and we set off. But first, breakfast! We were going to have waffles.

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