Danya + Kitchen

= not a good combo.


I nearly burnt down the house two days ago.

I was home alone and I was starving. I suddenly really wanted French fries. So I decided to make some.

Like I said, I was starving, and hence even more impatient. So I set the stove on high and waited for the oil to heat up.
And then…
The phone rang.
So I went to answer it and it was my dear friend JJ who, much to my dismay, tends to talk a lot. Not that I don't talk a lot. Just not on the phone. It's irksome.
Anyway. 5 minutes later I remembered the oil and I ran to the kitchen.

It was bubbling and smoking in the pan.
I freaked out and quickly grabbed the pan to take it off the stove…
And I accidentally spilled most of the oil on the stove.
And then…

WHOOOSHHHHH!

There was this huuuuuuge colossal fire all of a sudden.

(I may be exaggerating just a wee bit but.. come on.. put yourselves in my house slippers..)

(It was pretty big though.)

Anyway. I gasped and stared at it in shock.

I cannot even begin to tell you what was going on in my head, but it was something along the lines of…
CRICKET. SHIT. I TOLD MY DAD A THOUSAND TIMES TO BUY AN EXTINGUISHER. I mean, THIS WAS BOUND TO HAPPEN. I KNEW IT. WHAT DO I DO?! Water?! No I won't be able to carry enough here so I'll just fuel the fire and make it worse! Sand?! No.. that's too far away and what will I carry it with?! Oh man I don't even know the fire department's number! Oh my god if this fire doesn't kill me my dad sure will he's practically married to this house I mean we just moved here.. I wonder if maybe I get a few third-degree burns he'll feel too sorry for me and won't kill me…

I think at that point I began to realize that the fire was getting smaller and smaller until eventually it died out.
I sat on the floor and shivered for maybe 10 minutes.

I'm a survivor.

But anyway my cousin and I made steaks for lunch today and I successfully managed both not to burn the house down and keep all my fingers.

Awuppah!

Although I did have a little accident while peeling the potatoes but what's a little skin on my thumb…


My cousin enjoyed teasing me with the knife and laughing at me cringing away from it.

She thinks my fear of knives is illogical.

Illogical?

Excuse me?

Illogical?

Let's see here.

Is it sharp?
Check.

Is it lethal?
Check.

Has it been used to kill people?
Check.

(Just ask this dude)

I mean if someone were to point a gun at you, wouldn't you freak out? Why not a knife, then?
Clearly my fear is perfectly excusable.

As one last loving note, I must demand that you watch this video.

Now I won't torture you for long. Just watch it until about 0:35 when Miley starts to "sing." What made me laugh till I nearly died though was this comment someone left on the video:
"i love how patronisingly rihanna looks at miley."
God I love YouTube comments.

Sure they make you lose faith in humanity sometimes, but they are so amusing.

(p.s. Miley gets even worse around 1:30)

Okay that's it.
Thanks for reading and take care =)

Oh p.s. seriously, are you scared of knives, too?

%

Cheerios

Don't you just hate it when...

You have a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios for breakfast, then you leave it lying around next to the computer all day, only to pass by it at 3 am, and you're torn between feeling guilty about leaving it there and cursing the rest of your family for being too lazy to pick it up, so you pick it up yourself and take it to the kitchen, then have a heated debate with yourself about whether you should wash it or just leave it lying there on the counter, then your stupid conscience kicks in, so you decide to wash it, only once you start scrubbing the bowl, you realize that the few pieces of Cheerios you haven't eaten are now solid rock and pretty much stuck to the bowl as if they are decorative embellishments, so you start scrubbing and scrubbing, because now it's a personal matter and those Cheerios are challenging your authority, and amidst all the anger you don't realize how much dishwashing liquid you've used, and how slippery the bowl has become, then there's this sinking feeling, something isn't quite right... because, suddenly, the bowl is slipping through your fingers after a particularly violent scrub, and is now flying through the air, slowly, slowly, then descending towards the ground, slowly, slowly, and then it hits the ceramic tiles and bursts into smithereens, and you close your eyes and tell yourself this isn't happening, and that when you open your eyes you'll be next to your computer, reliving that moment when you passed by the bowl, except this time you're thinking, nawh let someone else pick it up...

but when you open your eyes, the smithereens are still all over the floor, so you give yourself a little whack on the head, and start cleaning up the mess, sighing every now and then at how stupid you are, and lecturing your conscience about how it should pick on somebody its own size?



Yeh. I totally hate it too.



%

Never Again

“I don't know who invented high heels, but all women owe him a lot”

~ Marilyn Monroe

Dear Marilyn:

You're quite right. We can't ever repay the debt we owe him. However, lately I've been known to show my appreciation towards people I love by strangling them with their own intestines. They always seem to get how much I care, once I do that – They turn blue with gratitude. Do give me a call if you're interested.

Sincerely,

Danya

-

So, folks, I quite obviously wore the heels.

I can't say it was awful, per se.

You be the judge.

30 minutes through the wedding:
My toes felt so scrunched up I worried I'd have to get them amputated.
This just proves my point, really:
Wearing heels is going against nature, and an unnatural position to put your body through.

3 hours through:
I'd stumbled quite often, but both my ankles are fine and unsprained :)

I did have an accident though. Well, two accidents, actually. Not my fault though. Well, the second one wasn't.

Accident #1

I tripped on my own feet (nothing new). I didn't fall, but my right foot's heel went into my left foot and left a deep gash there. It didn't hurt much, though……
Until…
Well, that brings us to Accident #2.

Accident #2

It was time for the buffet, and people were swarming around the salad bar like caged animals that were just set into the wild. This lady bumped into me (and not vice versa, I swear), and her salad-dressing-drenched spoon went flyyyying in the air……
I saw it all happen in slow motion, and I could honestly hear horror music playing in my head…...
Because the spoon was slowly descending…
Downwards…
Downwards……...
Towards my left foot……...
PLINK!
Right on the deep deep gash.

It burned like Dante's Inferno for around 5 minutes. But then I was fine.

5 hours through, at 3 am (welcome to the world of Saudi weddings):

I just couldn't care less. I kicked my heels off and passed out on a couch, jumping awake every 5 minutes when the kids kept throwing water-soaked roses at me.

I wish they didn't like me so much. I should start being mean to them.

Small Note

For those of you sending me hate mail for turning off my phone.....
You know who you are.......... (Summer, JJ, Yasmine....)



For those of you still trying to reach me through my phone....



Umm..
Don't?



I kinda dropped it in the toilet.



Don't ask how.



R.I.P my widdle Sony Ericsson Z610i. Thank you for 3.5 amazing years. You will be missed.






P.S. Would it be completely pathetic if I bought the exact same phone?

Update!!!

IT'S ALIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!

My phone never ceases to amaze me. The things it's been through! Falling into the sink, falling off a tree I was climbing, dropped too many times to mention... thrown at the wall in moments of frustration.... then swallowed by the toilet....

My god. I can almost hear it singing "I'm a survivorrrrr."

Or perhaps it's weeping because its most recent attempt at commiting suicide for the nth time has failed, once again.

Sorry baby. You're stuck with me for a while.

Lick it off the floor

Today I had the most enjoyable lunch of my life.
With my family, believe it or not.

Our housekeeper went back to Indonesia on Friday, so we're going to see if we can live without a maid (I don't like that word) for a month. It should be very.. very interesting.

So anyway, to avoid having to clean anything she shouldn't have to clean, my mom said that anyone who spills a drink or something has to lick it off the floor/table. And I for one -being the pathologically uncoordinated klutz that I am- am really worried.
I know she doesn't mean it literally, but cleaning worries me too. Germs either way.
I mean the soggy mops and sponges that have been used over and over again….. they make my stomach churn.

In any case. I dared my brother Majd to drink my leftover Pepsi that I'd mixed with my leftover vegetable soup. He slammed his hand on the table and basically told me to put my riyal where my mouth was. I know that the secret to haggling is starting with a really low price so I said,
"Fine. I'll give you….. *mentally goes through purse* 5 riyals."
Majd: "Make it a 10 and we have a deal."
Danya: "Deal."
I felt like a real hustler.

So he drank it. And it was so funny I laughed till I cried. He started out okay, drinking it really fast… Suddenly his face went green and he spit something out. "Carrot," he gasped. Then he drank the remaining Liquid from Hell and only spit out a tiny bit because he felt like he had to throw up. Then he ran to the bathroom and I could hear him, all the way from the dining room, while he made weird gagging then gurgling noises. Yep, he definitely deserves those 10 riyals.
And yes, I concur, I do need to grow up.

So then we split the post-lunch duties between us. My mom took the dishes, my brother took clearing the table, I took cleaning the table, and the floor, and my dad took….
The TV.
("No, dad… Please… you're overworking yourself, this can't be good for your health. We must switch tasks, I insist!")

And my sister Zeina complained about not getting any tasks.
Suck up.
Nah, she genuinely wanted a task.
Weirdo.

So my evil genius of a brother decided to take advantage of that. He called her Agent Z One and told her to assist him in clearing the table (because it's such a daunting task, you know). So she started carrying the soup to the kitchen but she nearly dropped it after a few milliseconds, so Majd grabbed it and started walking, but he spilled loads on the floor.
"CRAP! NO! I don't want to lick it off the floor... I don't want to lick it off the floorrrr...."
He ran to the kitchen and got a cleaning towel sponge thing (I'm sure there's a fancy domestic name for it) and started violently scrubbing the floor. My dad saw him cleaning after the accident and followed him to the kitchen, where my mother was. Majd gave him pleading looks, but the mischievous look in my dad's eyes told me that Majd was already a goner.
"Majd?! You spilled soup on the floor?!" But my mom only laughed (damn shame).

So then it was my turn to wipe the table, but Zeina was being really annoying. "Let me help let me help let me help! Pleeeeeeeease. Pretty pretty pleeeeease with cherries and a Hannah Montana poster on top."
I had to get her off my back.
"Zeina... I mean, Agent Z1," I said. "I have a task of utmost significance. Can you handle it?"
She nodded eagerly.
"I need you to find.... my bunny-shaped night lamp." (Needless to say, I don't have one, but my sister is not the sharpest tool in the toolbox, so she ran off happily).

My brother was having the time of his life, watching Zeina being bossed around. He may laugh now, but when he was her age, my other brother Muayyad and I used to play the old Power of Fire trick on him whenever we were too lazy to get up and get something ourselves.
So for example, if we were watching Power Rangers, and we wanted some chips, we'd tell Majd to get us a bag of chips. He'd always decline at first, but then we'd say, in a bribe-y voice, "We'll give you The Power of Fiiiirrreee….."
"Okay okay!"
So then we'd basically point at a random spot on the floor and say:
"I hereby give you…….. THE POWER OF FIRE!"
Then he'd jump into it, receive The Power of Fire, then run as fast as he can to the kitchen, get us whatever we wanted, then come back.

Good times, good times.

Anyway, my sister came back with a frown on her face.
"I didn't find a bunny-shaped night lamp. Give me another task!"
"Oh… that's okay. But Zeina, I saw what you did back there."
"What?"
"Don't play mind games with me."
"What did I do?"
"Zeina *stern glare*"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." (looking guilty)
"Mmmmhm. Sorry for what?"
"I'm sorry I made fun of you."
"A-HA! You made fun of me. You're fired, agent Z1."
And so she stalked off, fuming.

God I amuse myself.