Tuesday, September 30, 2008

My name is Khadija and I'm an object

I've been reading up on the objectification of women lately. It's hard to put it in words but I believe this author nails it when she says:

"In conclusion, imagine a table. A table is a collection of molecules-- truly an object. It does not care if you look at it, compare it negatively to other tables, pick it up, or even damage it. a woman, however, is both an object and a subject. Like a table, she is a collection of molecules that can be looked at or damaged-- but unlike a table, she cares. When society reduces human beings to the status of tables, the humans are bound to get hurt."

Friday, September 19, 2008

Gorgeous Person for the Day

When I was 13, I fell hook, line, and cliched-sinker in love with Robert Downey, Jr. 14 years later, I'm so glad he's back in the game!

Gorgeous Person for the Day

Watch out for Alec Baldwin's limpid eyes...
...too late.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Why I love this boyband anyway

They have a new song! Oh this brings back such good memories. Let me go fish out my Boyzone and Mr. Bean soundtrack audio cassettes.

I should do this the next time I fly

I LOVE this commercial - hurrah for completely unrealistic security checkpoints!

PS - his eyebrows are so sharp that I think I cut my finger (don't ask me what my finger was doing on his eyebrows...)

Saturday, September 13, 2008

Sunday, September 7, 2008

I fell into the TV

I watched 'Awakenings' today, a 1990 flick starring Robert DeNiro and Robin Williams. I am left speechless. Honestly, when a movie is made right, you just feel at one with each and every character. It is a dream of mine, to write a book, make a movie, create a screenplay that has the same effect on people as 'Awakenings' had on me. That magic, that experience of forgetting the world and being emotionally hitched to the plot without knowing when it happened, that's what I want to capture. Someday.

Friday, September 5, 2008

Alison Blaire Strikes Back

Once upon a time, I used to sing all the time. Song was speech. We sang first thing in the morning at school during prayers and anthems. I sang at school. I sang at home. I sang to the music on TV, radio, and cassettes. I sang while setting the table and doing the dishes. I sang in my room and I sang very loudly in the shower. I sang all the time. Every untried trill in every new tune was a new word to add to my vocabulary. I wish I'd had training. Then I'd be able to learn more! Like the difference between learning a language at school or learning by ear. But I sang. I sang like David because there was no other way to be.

Then the quiet days came. There was no more song, no more writing, no more expression. The voice in my chest was suddenly shackled. Like someone was sitting on my chest, crushing it, waging war against it. My voice had no way to come out. There were things to say but no one who would listen, no one would believe. The voice bubbled fiercely screaming to come out, but because it was hurt, it would die before making its way out into the world. And so it withdrew underground, leaving in its place darkness, silence, and dust.

I looked for it everywhere. I looked for my voice but I couldn't find it. It had gone into hiding, leaving behind a rejected ruin where the stale breeze of my soul would carry with it the echo of tunes forgotten, torturing me. I called out, I looked everywhere, but it was gone. I hung my head and sat amongst the ruins, broken and defeated, resigned to the quiet suffocation.

The years passed.

Then a few weeks ago I had a dream where I was The Dazzler. Even after waking up I could feel the magnificient freedom of singing, light emanating from every being of me as I danced in space, light shooting out in all directions into the darkness. I spun, I twirled, my arms and my fingers swaying about like the phoenix soaring with the urgency of an inferno. Every atom of me was exploding with song, with light, like a brand new sun so eager to be alive. I desperately held onto that feeling as long as I could. It had been so long since I'd been in tune. I couldn't even breathe now.

But then yesterday, something happened. I felt a new vigour while singing along to my iPod in my car. Then I turned it off during one of the songs and felt the need to carry on singing without singing along. And I kept singing. I sang all the songs I'd forgotten. I sang of the glory of God, I sang of disappointment, I sang of love, I sang of patriotism, I sang of heartbreak, I sang of life, I sang of longing. I sang non-stop for a couple of hours even. The voice came back with such intensity, such power, the old words came back with richer meaning, it had to be sung. I sang like I'd never sung before. My lungs burst open and I could breathe my heart into every single word. I had to stand, I had to move. My arms and hands embraced my voice and fiercely pulled it out of the darkness into the new world, guiding it back step-by-step until it remembered how to soar free. My soul took flight, my vocal chords wept in harmony. Heaven breathed its fresh breeze into the ruins of my soul, and light banished the cobwebs into oblivion.

Free at last, free at last! Thank God Almighty, she's free at last!

Gorgeous Person for the Day

Dapper crooner Harry Connick Jr.

Gorgeous Person for the Day

Rajesh Khanna - so tragic it hurts.

Gorgeous Person for the Day

Holy crap, it's Shashi Kapoor. Simmer down ladies.

The Men of my Dreams

Too bad they stayed there, but let me share them with you anyway.

My first wave of sudden crushes happened around age 12: Doogie Howser MD, Kevin Costner who'd just come out with 'Dances with Wolves', and Robert Downey, Jr., who totally made me fall down with his performance in 'Chaplin'.

Before I had time to recover from these 3, I got suddenly hit by a superstar in the making - Shahrukh Khan in 'Baazigar' and 'Darr'. I cried and cried and refused to eat until my dad let me go to one of his first concerts in Muscat, Oman.

While I never really got over my adoration of Shahrukh Khan, I met Captain Kirk. Holy crap, that guy just took me way out there. I was insisting everyone call me Mrs. Kirk!

But then Boyzone took over the world and I realised I could not live without Ronan Keating. I sent a dedication to him for his birthday on our local Oman radio show that I made sure all my friends tuned in to!

My first semester in the US in August 1999, and I came across a fledgling show called 'The Daily Show'. Everyone on my dorm floor knew that at 6pm I'd be camped in front of the common room TV watching Jon Stewart with twinkling eyes, laughing at his jokes because I couldn't believe he was such a genius. I even sent him a birthday card but the address was wrong so it came back. :(

By the time I started grad school, I thought I was over with these one-off obsessions . Well never say never and hello Tim Daly! I would wake up at 4am to catch him on 'Wings' reruns.

By now I had graduated to the real world as a careerwoman. Then James Roday fell splat into my lap (I wish!) on 'Psych'. He's the second person I sent a letter for an autographed photo, and he did reply! I screamed all the way from my mailbox to my apartment!

So who's going to be next? Email me for an application.

When Jimmy met Disco

It was 1982 and super-shine was in style.

PS - At 3:06 I start to get the feeling that she's scolding a noncompliant pet