خليك بعد شوي

مش مطلوب منّي صدّق كل شي بتقول
ولا مطلوب منّك تفهم كل شي عم قول

PostCall.

Having feelings for an ex-flame seems to be much more self-serving and egotistical than people might think... or else how would you explain this nostalgia that comes back only when you have been let down by present events or you've just found some empty time alone. Why is it only then that you think of a love that is no more? What about the times when they needed you and you held back for lack of interest, lack of compassion? But all what you said then and there was that it just didn't feel right. Why now?

Chronicles From Between The Sheets.

It's almost 8 and I am sleepy already. Score! Ka-ching! And Wow For Now!
I got a Feeling that Tonight's gonna be a good Night!
As I look more into my REM cycle episodes I start to understand that my problem relates more to anxiety and less to insomnia per se.
And so I decide to look less.

Of Fragrance And Ventilation.

As I turn on the A.C. in my car, I breathe in your scent from the night before. And you put a smile on my face...

Lt. Col. Frank Slade: Ooh, but I still smell her.
[inhales deeply through nose]
--Scent Of A Woman.

How To Count Sheep Or My Blogging Comeback.

I can't sleep.
I even dread not being able to sleep.
It seems it could be a sign of latent anxiety that I just can't decipher. Everything seems to be going just fine, and yet I can't sleep... Yes there are things that I decided to ignore for a while, but I don't really seem bothered by them, and yet I can't sleep...
It starts around 8pm, on days where I am not overworked or particularly busy. I start thinking to myself as to how I am going to fall asleep at the appropriate time that society and my parents have put in place (around 11 pm) when everyone else in the house goes to bed.
And so on days like today, I end up taking one dose of anti-histamines for prophylaxis. To skip the anxiety episode and go straight to unconscious. And yet, it seems it's not helping anymore. I will not increase the dosage. Instead maybe I'll whine more about it here. Just enough to feel sleepy again.
Welcome World, Welcome Back.

--What's YOUR idea of a comeback?...

W benNesbeh La Boukra Shou?

A round up of Cultural Events Sur Mesure:

These are some events during the month of August, not taking into consideration the known Festivals (aka Byblos, Baalbeck...) rather some underground concerts, some oddball exhibitions and some true Lebanese productions Baladi 2aseel.

I. Badguèr I Un événement autour de l'image/An image event:

Open Air Exhibition in Araman Factory, Bourj Hammoud (July 26 - August 12), by now you've missed the Open Air Screenings but you can still catch the Exhibition itself, and a concert on August 12 Closing Night. Don't forget to catch a bite at Mano's for authentic Soujouk. (They even have Soujouk Shawarma!)



II. Leka@Eka3:
Initiative created by a team of artists: from musicians, photographers, visual artists to film directors... throughout Amman, Beirut and Cairo.
The Beirut Schedule:
-1-
When: Sunday 2nd of August, 9:30pm
Who: Mashrou3 Leila (My personal choice, my Manly Burly Ballerinas)
Where: Jounieh Festival, Facing Jounieh Municipality
Free of Charge
-2-
When: Thursday 6th of August, 10:00pm
Who: Ressala, Aziz Maraka (Alternative Artist, Founder of Razz, Jordan), Mashrou3 Leila with Joelle Khoury (Composer-Pianist)
Where: Snatch, Gemmayze
Ticket Price: 20 000LL Cover Charge
-3-
When: Friday 7th of August, 9:30pm
Who: Ressala (One of the oldest and most established Egyptian indie bands)
Where: Jounieh Festival, Facing Jounieh Municipality
Free of Charge
-4-
When: Sunday 9th of August, 8:30 pm
Who: Mashrou3 Leila, Aziz Maraka, Ressala, feat. Ivoice
Where: Pierre Abou Khater Theatre, USJ – Damascus Road
Ticket Price: 15 000 LL
-5-
When: Monday 10th of August, 8:30 pm
Who: Ressala
Where: Shams Theatre, Tayouneh Roundabout
Ticket Price: 15 000 LL

III. Horror is Universal (The End)

A Video and Music Performance by Raed Yassin
Beirut Art Center, August 5th at 8pm. Entrance 15000 LL

This is Yassin's latest multimedia saga involving the deconstruction of Arab popular culture. The performance the 5th of August will be followed by the release party of the label Annihaya Records' very first album "The New Album".

Interestingly enough, the performance is on the background of an Exhibition by Akram Zaatari and Bernard Khoury (July 23-October 3).

Earth of Endless Secrets
Writing for a Posterior Time
A solo exhibition by Akram Zaatari
(This is about correspondence between a former Lebanese prisoner in Israel and his family)
&
Prisoner of War
A solo exhibition by Bernard Khoury
(This is a collection of some memorable war pictures and the proposal of a design for a contraption that can be used in war time)

This exhibition will also feature screenings by Akram Zaatari on August 12 and 26, at 8pm. Entrance 3000 LL

Wednesday August 12, 8pm:
Red Chewing Gum
Baalbeck: The Drift
How I Love You
Bathroom Naughtiness
Crazy Of You
(All screenings in Arabic)

Wednesday August 26, 8pm:
Video in Five Movements
Reflection
With Rachad El Jisr
Her + Him Van Leo

IV. Sphere in an acoustic live performance for 3 nights:

August 5,6,7 at 9pm, at the Zico House. Entrance 10000 LL
Sphere is a Classic Rock Band
Line up:
- Daya Kay : Lead Vocals.
- Amadeus Awad : Lead Guitars.
- Patrick Stephan : Drums & Percussions.
- Marcelino Said : Bass Guitars.
- Charles Sawma : Keyboards

V. A L'Ombre Des Sources:

Theatrical Performance in Arabic by Mounir Abou Debs, Freikeh Festival. August 5, at 8.30 pm. Entrance 15000 LL
The setting is in a Silk Factory 10 min from Antelias.

VI. Beirut Rocks on the Moon:
Deir Al Qamar Festival, Saturday August 8 at 7pm. Entrance 10000 LL

Musical trajectory of performances in the city with Scrambled Eggs joined by Mazen Kerbaj - Sharif Sehnaoui - Abdallah Ko - Raed Yassin, Youmna Saba ft. Fadi Tabbal, The Incompetents and Mashrou3 Leila! NOT TO MISS!

VII. Saif 840:
Theatrical Perfomance paying homage to Mansour Rahbani at Byblos. August 8 to 12, 8.30pm.
Line Up: Antoine Kerbaj, Hiba Tawaji, Ghassan Saliba.

VIII. Poetry Night:
Open Poetry Night. Snatch, Gemmayzeh. August 10, 7pm.

IX. Tribute to Mahmoud Darwish:

Marcel Khalifé & The Palestinian Youth Orchestra, August 12, Beiteddine Festival.
Pullman leaves from Starco at 7pm.

X. Momentary Flights:
Theatrical Performance, Art Lounge, August 20, 21, 22 at 8.30 pm. Entrance 15000 LL
Featuring Tamara Zeenny & Carla Dib.
It's a story that has no beginning nor end
It's a story that is suspended in time
It's you, me, and everyone in between
It's Momentary Flights
Synopsis: "It is an audio visual theatrical performance about the power of imagination"

XI. Lebanese Film Festival:
8th Edition, Empire Sofil, August 20 - August 24.
Program to Follow.
Check here.

Some Random Favorites:
-Zeina Tatbukh Prix Fixe (20000 LL) Menu, with a different eclectic cuisine, every Thursday Night at Zico House. 9pm.
-Torino Express, Gemmayzeh at around 7pm.
-Barometre, Hamra. Dinner.
-Cafe Younes, Hamra. Coffee and Betty Crocker Cakes.

Doctor Butcher. Doctor Play Nice.

I've been busy.

The General Surgery rotation is now over, and I decided to venture into a Cardio-Thoracic Surgery Elective, not because I'm Wonder Woman and I want to save the lives of those who probably need it the most but because it's about time I take my mini summer vacation, and being the planktons that we are as Med III students, the Attendings would rather excuse us from watching all the operations than having extras bothering them with their useless presence in delicate procedures. Understandable and most Welcome I say!

Looking back at the rotation I spent 6 Weeks on, I must say it's been almost perfect. True I have nothing to compare it to, but being the overzealous medical student who just started her Clinical Years and who wants to learn everything and anything I really enjoyed shadowing our Interns and Residents, learning the ins and outs of the hospital, getting special attention from the Physicians who found our group of students "cute" and worthy of bestowing information upon... Note that we are deemed "cute" because we are about 10 Girls and 2 Guys, a rarity in the medical field and especially in the Surgery Department at AUH where only one Resident is Female (although questionable) and none of the Attendings. So as one other Resident put it: you girls are gonna miss the Surgery Rotation. And if you wonder why, if you wonder how, well because we're probably going to seek that extra attention, never to find it again...

So the Surgery Department was our mini oyster, and we indulged. Does it really matter if on the last day we were dismissed in a hurry? Without the farewells and the waterworks? Does it really matter that it dawned on us that we weren't the first "cute" group to roam the 10th floor at AUH, all smiles and heels? It was good while it lasted. It was about time to move on. Yes it was...

And now you wonder, what kind of a Physician am I growing into? Is the Hospital merely a playground for this unethical, unmotivated Blogger? No. The medical and clinical practices have never felt as gratifying for me as these past few weeks. I was the student who got to the Hospital 15 minutes early to look at the chart and find out what happened overnight, I was the student who took extra shifts to admit new and interesting cases, I was the student who prepared extra talks to learn more about the Child-Pugh scale or IV bags... And I wasn't the only one. Which brings me to the eagerness of Medical Students to become Doctors, we want to learn, we want to be proactive, we want to make a difference... And so enough self gratification, there is something more important on this blogger's mind...

When do you lose this eagerness towards making a difference and replace it with a feeling of extreme and ultimate superiority, even superior to human kind? When do you start overworking yourself not for the greater good but to show off your new techniques (whether followed by complications or not) and to break your own records in the amount and speed of the operations you perform? I see it everyday: Certain Physicians using their unequivocal power to operate on patients, merely for the extra Admission to the Hospital, or the Case Report if the Operation is too risky, or the fact that another Surgeon refused to Operate and they want to prove a Point. This is what Surgery has come down to in certain clinics (and I stress not all), an Abuse of Power and Human Lives without an ounce of Regret or Conscientiousness.

Should I mention the patient whose Ejection Fraction was under 20 percent, meaning he was near a Heart Failure, who Dr. (and I'm even pondering whether I should be mentioning his name here, because he is that powerful, which makes me reflect as to how ideal of a Physician I am being here, getting sucked into the hierarchy to watch my own back...) so who Dr. X (no I will not mention his name for the time being), Dr. X admitted the patient for a symptomatic gallbladder, risking having him never come out of the operating room just because another physician refused to admit him and if the patient were to make it through, it will be recognized that Dr. X has done it again and not that it's merely the poor patient's good fortune. Not that it's become purely a game of luck and statistics with said Dr. X whose many failures are not even properly documented, and a few out of thousands of risky operations are bound to yield a favorable outcome...

So you think the barbarity would end here, that it's already unethical enough. Well you're mistaken. Because Dr. X's Obsessions do not only relate to how many Operations he can do, or how many terminal cases he can get into the Operating Room, but also and maybe even more importantly: How Fast he can finish said Operation. Yes, Dr. X is obsessed. He will never fail to mention that he can operate on a patient in Seven Minutes, and you listen in awe thinking to yourself, Wow this guy must be good, but then you go into the Operating Room, you see the amount of stress under which he puts everybody around him, and you see him at work. He does have skills I admit, but he is brutal to say the least. And taking that same operation as an example, that critical case that must have been handled with care, I can't help but re-picture him trying to get the Gallbladder out of the incision he had made, and the gallbladder, having stones in it was found to be a bit tricky to pull out, so he kept pulling and pulling and screaming, he managed to move the table and the patient towards him, having the patient at an almost 45 Degrees with the table just by pulling the gallbladder from inside his body... Can you picture the savageness? The trauma? What makes the difference between a surgeon and a cattleman?

And yet it doesn't end here, said Physician managed to have intra-op bleeding because he was in such a hurry to finish the operation, an operation that should have no complications whatsoever, and so to achieve hemostasis he decided (as it has been the norm with him) to carbonize the bleeding part and then some, ending up with a burnt liver. Because as he says anything carbonized doesn't bleed, and yes the liver can regenerate to an extent, but what about the prolonged and sub-optimal healing process post extensive burning? He just does not care because his mission ends on the Operating Table, that is where the Medical Records end too.

I'm done, this was one Case Report from a Medical Student's point of view, from a more humane point of view. I will not mention the extra operations that he convinces patients of, although they don't seem to need it necessarily, like removing the gallbladder to get heartburn relief... This might not be as risky, but it's just as immoral. And so, sometimes I wonder, being the silent observer that I am, maybe, since I am not there when patients discuss their medical issues with the physician before being admitted to the hospital, maybe they tell him things he can pick up on and then they fail to mention them to me on admission, or I am just not as experienced to notice and interpret them. Maybe he is taking the right decision after all... Maybe I am just turning a blind eye like everybody else around me, before me and coming after me. Who knows?

And If Tomorrow Never Comes.

There's something about the 20th or 20 something that just screams lucky number to my ears. Let's share this although my blogging is scarce. Today was eventful to say the least, from (and let's try to put it nicely) unprofessional teasing in front of the sickly, (I'm sorry, I shall behave), to Goodbyes, to Surprises, to Welcome Backs!

And just when I thought the highlight of my day would be saying bittersweet goodbyes, with the hug and cued in Casablanca Soundtrack in the background, I get a phone call only thirty minutes later, and I drop the cigarette. Yes, yes that cigarette I wasn't supposed to be smoking since I quit more than 2 months ago. But then and there, I said to myself what the hell, I shall indulge. So let's get back to the series of events, I drop the cigarette and I scream... Welcome Back.

Stop, Reset, Rewind, Forward.
And yet another Goodbye in 10 days.
Is it true that Lebanon is now nothing more than a pit stop?

--Casablanca, Here's looking at you Kid.

Pinch Me. I'm Human.

L. was asking me about one of my previous relationships as she was trying to draw similarities between her current one and mine, in an attempt to elucidate what might become of her and her boyfriend. You see he's not Lebanese, he lives abroad where they met before she moved back to Lebanon for good, and he will be coming to see her in Beirut, in a few days. Just like you and me. Just like us, a year ago. But that's not the point. The point is, as a matter of fact, a general feeling of disbelief and jadedness as to how I could have forgotten all that happened so easily. I'm not sure why and how, I'm really not...

And as I sit and wonder, was it because it was time? Was it the distance? Was it the natural course of things that only a step back was able to achieve? Was it the fact that I got distracted by peripheral events? Was it?...

I just wonder how affectionate and sentimental of a person I can actually be if I was able to throw away four years of my life just like that, with no regrets. I'm not sure what to think of this, that exact feeling of nothingness that I felt when my grandfather passed away, that complete disregard. It scares me...

It even makes me wonder about the times when I really felt passionate and emotional enough to notice. Was it only because I wanted to attain my goal? Was it pure ambition or were there any sentiments involved whatsoever? Is that why I lost interest in some instances where I was actually capable of reaching my target? And will I ever have genuine vulnerable feelings?...

Bliss on Corniche.

The Peace and Quiet of a day at the beach. This little gem, more so a diamond in the rough, is the AUB Beach. And, while in the area, this blogger had the opportunity of stealing a couple of precious hours to lay in the sun, turning from side to side, listening to music, going in for a dip, nothing out of the ordinary, just pure decadent laziness.
What's nice about the AUB beach is how accessible it is, AUB students and staff can go in anytime and they can bring guests, so keep your swimsuit in the trunk and whenever in the area go down for an hour or two.
--Beach Goers Frolicking in the Sun.
Expect to be greeted by fishermen, some foreigners (exchange students) and a few kids learning how to swim. But mostly, expect to savor the un-pretentiousness and simplicity of this place that has been able to withstand the rapid and disproportionate glamorization of Beirut. Here you come to tan, swim, fish, read. Champagne bottles not allowed.
--AUB Beach on a Background of Ain El Mreisseh.
One of the fishermen actually spent four hours on the same chair in the exact same position waiting for providence. Ah the good life. The tranquility. The Bliss.
--The AUB Fisherman.
I secretly wondered what was going through his mind.

Teaching Rounds 101.

So what have I learned about the First week of rotating in the hospital as a Third Year Medical Student?

I've learned that Interns and Residents will want to do anything to keep the hierarchy and thus will occasionally act as your superior to remind you that even though you're just as old, and maybe even slightly more informed about a particular disease or another, they can still get you in trouble if they feel like it.
On the other hand, they can just as well be extra nice and invite you over to their On Call Room when on duty, an offer you should politely decline if you don't want to end up standing awkwardly in the farthest spot you can find, giving a talk about your critically ill patient while the resident is laying on the bed, and you poor helpless medical student, you keep imagining him playing with his toes while trying desperately to withhold hysterical and uncomfortable bouts of laughter.

I've learned that you never know who your Patient will turn out to be. And even though you should treat all of them equally and professionally, you will eventually find out that you should not be using a systematic approach, and not only because of that oath of empathy and sympathy that you pledged (and earned a pin for doing so), but because they might turn out to be enriching to your social and communal network of interesting people you stumbled upon.

I've learned that Nurses seem to be doing all the work and having the most exposure with the patient, so you'd better stay on their good side. That is of course besides the fact that they know the ins and outs of the hospital, along with when and where free food is served. They will also keep your belongings safe, especially in a hospital where not even a private locker is provided to you, regardless of the hefty tuition you're coughing up.

I've learned that the Attendings are, up until today June 23 2009 at 8.17 pm, the friendliest in the food chain and the most accessible. I document this impression thoroughly and with the utmost precision, because I have a feeling this finding might change in days to come. Nevertheless, attending physicians seem to be seeking medical students to bestow upon them all the knowledge they have acquired and some extra rewards like freshly picked berries, (thank you Dr. WGF).

I've learned that in the Operating Room, anything goes. I have yet to witness the urban legends about physicians throwing scalpels at students and residents, but I have already heard them shouting for no particular reason and making sure everyone in the room understands that they are the Kings of the castle, the Lords of the domain, the Alpha and the Omega, although they will be all smiles and winks once out of their scrub suit. So if you have a beef with your resident and you're desperately seeking revenge, follow them to the Operating Room, you can be sure they will get yelled at, at least once, even if their performance is fairly appropriate, it never seems to fail.

I've learned that the constantly lauded and stressed upon Ethical Behavior seldom leaves the classroom. And the lower your rank the more conscientous you are. I will not generalize, but Yes, physicians disclose full medical and social histories in crowded elevators, with names and family members mentioned. Yes, they mistreat OutPatient Department patients (as opposed to private ones). Yes, they will keep the patient for an extra day or two in the hospital if insurance covers their stay. Yes, they will fail to adequately scrub in risking nosocomial infections during an operation. Yes, the most famous ones are the ones who might be a pure source of revenue for the hospital rather than diligent physicians. Yes, some deaths can and should be avoided especially with infection control.

I've learned that I love medicine. I love clinical practice. Heck, I even love surgical procedures although I was very skeptical about the latter to start with, seeing how I hated the Anatomy course, and my surgery summer elective in Barcelona. (Which might be explained by the lack of proper communication, since for some weird reason, Catalans have taken it upon themselves to refuse to master proper English).

I've learned that your most potent tool is People Skills, People Skills, People Skills. Whether you are communicating with the resident, the intern, the attending or the patient.

I've learned that the best communication should be among your group members to keep a unified front and a consensus regarding sharing tasks and responsibilities.

I've learned that I have yet to Learn, that this is only the Beginning, so Here's to Medical School and to a successful Medical Career. Chin Chin and Salute.

A New Episode. A New Chapter.

A New Episode:
Tomorrow night (Thursday June 18, 2009) at 7.30 pm. Catch the Flying Kebab team and their loyal (even though somewhat recent) fans at Kababji on Bliss Street in Hamra, for a screening of the Third Episode in the Kebab Saga, and a Brazilian male duo singing Fairuz? (not sure if they will deliver on that, and frankly not even sure I want them to). If you can't make it, watch the Third Episode Online.

A New Chapter:
So much to rant about! This humble blogger has moved up in the world of Medicine and is now a certified paperwork filler and filer in the American University of Beirut Medical Center (or AUH), otherwise known as a Med III Student. Ok, so let's bask in the glory, I have patients! And yes, I am part of the Medical Team that roams the corridors of a 10 stories high hospital, occasionally with high heels. I will be tackling this subject a bit more seriously in the next few days.

--Actual Depiction. True Story.

Of Listening and Lessons Learned.

When you decide to listen closer and deeper, just listen, you can't help but realize how much people actually talk about themselves and complain about everything else. And then when they ask you, two hours into the conversation, how you're doing, you can only reply with "Everything is fine"...

I am truly grateful for my blessings. And the biggest one of all: Satisfaction, Fulfillment, Contentment...

Point and Cry.

What difference does it make now to say I told you so and to gloat in poetic justice? You proved worthy of your misery!

Flying Kebab. Shooting Stars.

The Flying Kebab group is picking up on Facebook. Join to get the latest news and behind the scenes photos and updates. If you haven't watched Episodes 1 and 2 yet, what are you waiting for? Go to Flying Kebab.
For some weird reason, my instinct tells me these guys are gonna have quite the fan base in Lebanon (and Brazil?), I'm loving the idea!
Yay for more documentaries about Lebanese culture as seen in the eyes of foreigners. (Because foreigners can pick up details that Lebanese might take for granted). And yay for the collaboration with Lebanese artists who can add a true local spirit to the series.

Je T'aime...Moi Non Plus.

What's in a blog? Yes I've had my share of rants here, but when it really matters, when it's intense enough to hurt or bewilder in delight, when it enslaves me and shakes me to the core, I can't seem to be able to reproduce it in words for everyone to read, I can't seem to be able to be that transparent, and maybe I shouldn't be. But then what's the point? Is it merely the writing itch, expression fever, the communication bug?

Something happened yesterday, but I can't get myself to name the protagonists, to recreate the entrancing scene, to draw the intricate details that made it so... I can't because then I will become vulnerable, I will have to admit to what happened and what lead to it. I will have to admit to the world but even more so to myself what it really felt like, how I perceived it, risking misinterpretation and disillusionment. No. So I resort to expressing myself in these cryptic declarations. Maybe hoping for the message to go through, maybe hoping for the feelings to get transcribed, to transcend this page...

I loved every minute of it. Getting out of bed at 2 am, turning my computer on, finding you. How I love that we're not together.

Listening to:

--Je t'aime... moi non plus-- Serge Gainsbourg

Of Miles And Stones.

What if you kiss with your eyes open?
What if you forget what it felt like?
What if you smoke on the balcony? Your eyes closed.
What if you strive for psychedelic self destruction?
Thrive in temptation, in torture.
This is not redemption, this is mutilation.

I've been free for over 5 months. It is when you stop counting that it starts counting the most...

Hey Jude, don't be afraid.
You were made to go out and get her.
The minute you let her under your skin,
Then you begin to make it better.

I've been smoke free for 12 days.

99 Luftballons.

You'd be surprised to know how many medical students actually prefer Scrubs over Grey's Anatomy. It might be the over dramatization in Grey, or the excessively goody too shoes Meredith with her woe-is-me attitude, or even the fact that watching TV is meant to escape daily tragedies and not add on to them. Ok so in a way, maybe I shouldn't be watching Scrubs either, maybe I should stick to The Nanny's endless reruns, but Scrubs is something a medical student can relate to and laugh at in the same time.

Which brings me to yesterday's episode on ShowComedy: My Interpretation Season 2, Episode 20. In this episode, J.D. is trying to communicate with a German patient, and at one point they're shown dancing in the hospital to 99 Luftballons.

This scene struck a chord. I had been introduced to 99 Luftballons a few years back and I loved it. Besides the fact that the song is catchy, the lyrics are expressive and right on the spot for a little Lebanese girl in a semi-torn country. Flash Forward to Scrubs' episode: I wasn't sure what to think, here they were parodying a song about the cold war, about a once divided country. However, they were harmless, they were including historical references in a sitcom, and even more so they were exposing a new generation of viewers to a song that they should listen to. And the verdict was in: Kudos!

In a way Scrubs seems like the South Park of medical shows. The writers are actually sending messages across, while offering a good laugh. And why the heck not?! (Ok so South Park is a tad more offensive but just as creative if you ask me.)

So here it is 99 Luftballons, a song about how 99 balloons floating in the air would trigger exaggerated military reactions in divided Germany in 1983.

Scrubs - 99 Red Balloons

99 LuftBallons, Nena. English Translation.

You and I in a little toy shop
Buy a bag of balloons with the money we've got.
Set them free at the break of dawn
'Til one by one, they were gone.
Back at base, bugs in the software
Flash the message, Something's out there.
Floating in the summer sky.
99 red balloons go by.

99 red balloons.
floating in the summer sky.
Panic bells, it's red alert.
There's something here from somewhere else.
The war machine springs to life.
Opens up one eager eye.
Focusing it on the sky.
Where 99 red balloons go by.

99 Decision Street.
99 ministers meet.
To worry, worry, super-scurry.
Call the troops out in a hurry.
This is what we've waited for.
This is it boys, this is war.
The president is on the line
As 99 red balloons go by.

Edit: As I read these last sentences I can't help but visualize the Israeli Defense Forces and their commander actually acting this out in 2006, right before they declared and launched an incredibly disproportionate war against Lebanon.

Ode To Lebanese Plastic.

Who Nose? Or The Death Of The Nose Trimmer.

Can you physically have writer's block? Do you necessarily have to know where ideas come out of before answering this question? Let's not laugh at the matter, this blogger has had her nose clogged and malfunctioning for a few days now and it seems to have prevented her from carrying out any mental activity. So do I really need my nose to think properly? What does that statement really entail? Bring out the crazy bells! Yes we've heard it before, some people think out of their asses, do I think out of my nose? Are the eyes the window to your soul and the nose the door to your psyche? Can this be an unprecedented epiphany moment?... Well, anatomically it does make sense, and this is a doctor-in-training's opinion!

I even went as far as to complain to P. that I feel like I am completely disconnected from the world, like there is this barrier, this shield that I am stuck behind and I cannot convey my thoughts. P, so lovingly, proceeded to reassure me that my nose will be fine but he couldn't say the same about my mental state. He blamed it on the pain killers. I blame it on the clog. That physical obstacle, like a roadblock. Like a Downtown sit-in in Beirut. (No I cannot compare it to an actual demonstration since there is no feeling of burning tires involved) So, No thoughts. No ideas. Nothing...

To cut the drama short, I guess I'm just trying to say that yes I have writer's block, yes I am congested, no I cannot carry a full conversation. Coincidence? Conspiracy? Constipation? One thing is for sure, nose trimmers are off my Christmas gift list, now that I suspect ideas come out of one's almighty breathing apparatus. Maybe one actually NEEDS the filtering hairs?

The secret has traveled through centuries to reach you. Now, take good care of it.