Before a damp blanket is put on this one…

I think I get more ideas than the average person; and I don’t mean I am better than the average person at all. I just feel that my mind never rests and is always in quest of coming up with new stuff, most of which are useless and unimportant really, hence most of which are immediately discarded before I am even aware of them. it could be a Gemini thing, it could be a crazy thing, it could be a ME thing; all I am saying is that I get too many ideas for my brain to process, and if we add my short attention span to the equation, it leaves us to the conclusion that… ok I lost that thought!

Oddly enough, I have been having this certain idea for quite some time. And by quite some time I mean long enough for it to register as more than just a random idea! I actually gave it more than a couple of hours of thinking! I know it may not be the most brilliant idea, but something in me thinks it has potential. Therefore, I am putting it out there for a couple reasons; 1) I want it to be here staring me in the face to make sure I don’t lose interest like I always do, and 2) to leave it for whoever can take it to the next level; however, please let me in on it… it’s not copyrighted or anything, but I would really want to have a part and put my heart into it.

So here it goes in a short direct sentence, followed by explanations of how it came up and how I want it to be; boy, this WILL BE LONG:

I am thinking of starting a support group for divorced women or those who are still in the long spirit killing process of it.

There I said it!!

Now I will try to say more about the whole thing; however, to avoid losing my track of thought, I will put them out there in point… this is what I do when I am confused!!

Here are my disclaimers though, which are very important to the essence of the whole support group idea and its purpose:

• - This is NOT another Layla move, and by no chance is a feminist move or affiliated by feminism,
• - This is NOT a pro-divorce move; I still believe a married couple should try to work things out as long as they both have it in them. I know it’s relative, but I would like to know that people do understand what I mean here, and
• - This is NOT a man-hating thing; I do not hate men, I do not think all men are cheating bastards and I do not by any chance believe that all men are the same.
  

I hope we’re clear because I will not be happy about getting any comments that implies any of the above stated points. That sounded too formal!! Yikes!!

This is how it started:

• - Nile Girl once brought it up on her comment page when I said something about us divorced women; I don’t remember the exact dialogue, but I think this is how the idea seeped into my mind, only I never acknowledged it much then! Which reminds me, where the hell r u NG????!!! email me!!
• - When my friend H introduced me to a work colleague of hers to give me lawyer’s contacts; knowing her story, I was shaken with disbelief that such horrors do happen!
• - Something my father said about how he worries about me being a divorcee because here in Egypt the only support I would get would be through him and people who know me quite well to not misjudge me, and that there will come a time when it will feel like everyone even those who know me are avoiding me, and how it is different in the west because the society has systems that provide more understanding and support through different channels.
• - Again, when H’s colleague invited me and my kids to her daughter’s first birthday despite that she had never even met me; I was touched that she wanted to get to know me just because we have similar problems, and I wanted to go to give her the same support I would need.
• - I have been whining long enough about how I am tired of keeping it to myself, the whole divorce proceeding, and pretending to immediate family and social circle that I am “happily married”… I have been whining about how the long legal proceedings are taking their toll on me and how things should be different, yet I have not even tried doing something about it, perhaps it’s time to demand a change in a more constructive way.
  

Now I am not the most relentless person; as a matter of fact, I tend to lose interest as fast as an infant… but here is what I am; I am passionate and I am willing to put my heart into whatever I believe in.

I know it sounds contradicting, but that’s who I am. However, I think that having been in this drama I am still in, it would make me more willing to do something about it.

Here was my trigger:

Yesterday, I had to tell my 17 year old cousin, whom I used to baby sit that I am getting a divorce so that next time my soon to be x contacts him, he would not answer. Feeling how the words refused to come out of my mouth, and actually not knowing what the right words were, made me realize that it won’t be easy once I start telling more people in my social circle. This kinda ruined my weekend and made me go back to my unhappy place.

And it shouldn’t be hard; it is not a crime, it simply isn’t! I shouldn’t feel ashamed about deciding to end a marriage that was nothing but mental and emotional abuse, and no woman should. No woman should worry about how people will perceive her, and no woman should be subjected to humiliating phrases like the ones people in our society use whenever a divorcee is mentioned.

It is sad how people in our society have their own agenda about things they do not even understand, and I think it’s sadder that I have not taken the time to think about any of that until after being in such a situation myself. However, here I am trying to make the best out of it.

So, I haven’t really taken the time to think about the structure of that support group. I mean it could end up right here by me saying that things should be different…

Or a blog can be started only addressing that topic, but then I would worry about the whole gossiping, and I really do not like gossip that much, just the healthy dose that keeps me a female…

Or even a facebook group, which is not what I would want really since anonymity is highly appreciated for most people, at least at that stage…

I know for sure it won’t be any thing more than that for the time being, simply because I am not a planner and of course I only took so little time about the whole thing. No, an NGO is not what a person like me would have in mind…

Oh, and before anyone says it… if there is ever a blog or a facebook group, the name Oreedo 7allan so comes to mind making the whole idea sound obnoxious and appalling, so suggestions people!!! I think I just killed a few jokes there ;)

When do I hit rock bottom, so that I can bounce back??

I said I wouldn’t answer him, a million times, but the stupid optimist in me still for some reason hopes for a civil ending and I keep falling for the same tricks over and over!! No wonder he screwed me over the way he did, I am a complete idiot. I learn my lesson hard, but I still repeat the same mistake, it’s beyond your average human stupidity.

He’s cruel and insensitive and he would never ever appreciate any kindness or good intentions from my side, and I am just incapable of being like him, I am not! Sadly, I am a better person who would never stoop that low, even if I wanted. I know because when I got close to doing that, I just couldn’t, pathetic.

He said he wouldn’t sit and talk with lawyers; he would only sit and talk with me. He said he had rights and that I owed him. What about what he owed me? What about everything he touched that went to ruins? Does he want to do the same thing to my kids?

Let’s talk about the damage, let’s talk about what he did to me! In the years I have been married to him, he changed every good thing about me and turned it into something deformed and ugly; ugly is what he made me feel, inside and out. He shook my belief system and turned me into a darker shade of cynical and judgmental. He made me lose whatever faith I had in people and in myself. The fact that I am back to who I once was does not change that with him, I was someone I would never be proud of.

Let’s talk about the damage I still have to deal with, let’s talk about how the word LOVE and its consequences freak me out, let’s talk about how willing I had become to numb myself so that I wouldn’t get hurt again. How about my fear of relationships that controls how I deal with people? How about that I can no longer speak my mind or heart as easily as I once did?

What’s the price for that? What does he owe me for doing that to me? Actually, strike that; what do I owe myself for letting him do all that to me?

I resent him, I resent his existence, and sometimes I even resent myself for making this one wrong choice, choosing him. YES, I hate being the victim and I would rather blame myself for everything rather than acknowledge he had that effect. I am NOT a victim, not his, and never will be.

He ended the phone call by asking me in a sweet voice “mesh 3ayza terga3y bardo?” how deranged is that??

He asked if I hated him, I told him he wouldn’t understand what I had to say about that; he wouldn’t understand that he’s not even worthy of hate.

He asked if I would be upset if he remarries, I couldn’t help that sarcastic laugh and told him that nothing will ever upset me once he lets go of me… he asked “regardless who I will remarry?”, I replied that nothing will ever matter once he lets me be.

I keep playing his words in my head trying to find ways to comfort myself, but I keep failing. He keeps finding ways to sneak into my life, depriving me from the peace and quiet of being away from him.

He found way to sneak into my facebook profile and he gloated about it, then he criticized my “childish” comments with my friends and family over photos… trivial may be, but it got to me! It got to me that he can have access to my friends, my family, my freakin photos; what can I say, I have a thing for privacy, and he keeps invading it; that’s his thing.

My best friend warned me about that; warned me of him tracking my phone calls and hacking into my mail or my facebook account, she even warned me about him stumbling upon my blog given how small the world is and how I keep exposing a little bit of me here. She worries because she’s afraid he’d use whatever he can put his hands on as leverage to his own benefit.

I told her I didn’t care, and that it is not me who should hide. It’s not me who has to deal with his shame; isn’t it enough that I am already dealing with the mess he left behind… all of it! And I hate asking for help and I hate feeling like people are doing me favors by being good to me. And yet, I let it happen because it is better than being with him.

So, if you stumble upon this Mr. X, and if you could tell that it is me, which I highly doubt because you’re really incapable of seeing beyond your own nose, and as much as you know how to get to me and ruin my mood, you simply never knew me… if you are reading this, this is for you…

You may hurt and scar me, you may even scare me, but you will never make me hide or make me feel ashamed of who I am and what I do. The most ashamed I ever get is when being referred to as your wife and this is why I can’t stand the wait of the long procedures this whole thing is taking, and this is why I am willing to compromise.

One of the millions of reasons why I should not be living in Egypt…

I do not know how to bargain!!!

I am a price-list girl. I ask for the price of whatever it is that I like (I prefer price-tagged stuff), if I think it’s appropriate and affordable, I pay with a big smile and a warm thank you then I leave. I even advertise for it!!!

Life shouldn’t be hard that way when the price is out in the open and you and me (i.e. the customers) are able to make an education and rational decision; or at least what we would like to call our own educated and rational decision.

Why do people insist on embarrassing themselves by asking for a discount or a special price?? Why do my girlfriends flirt with sales people and endure their lame jokes to get it?? My friends make fun of me saying that with my expensive taste and the way I talk, I am more likely to get higher prices!!

Which reminds me; why do people ruin my own victory (yeah, I love buying things) by telling me I could have gotten whatever it is that I got for less? Why do they say lame phrases like “enty edda7ak 3aleiky”? And why do I find things for better prices just around the corner when I have already bought the same item???

I am a loyal and dedicated shopper damn it, with an expensive taste and I don’t mind paying when I think it’s worth it; I deserve more respect that that!! Hell, I demand that respect!

To My Oblivia

Around two years ago, I started an older version of this blog, that I named Organized Chaos. It was basically an outlet where I could babble about the joys of motherhood and also rant about how people keep giving me non-applicable advice, namely my in-laws.

I had problems then, but I was trying to talk myself out of dealing with them, facing them, or even feeling them. In that blog, I talked about my inability to forgive; about how tired I was from waiting for good things to happen; about how I felt my life was not going anyway like I planned; all in abstract manner, or at least that was what I thought!

A fellow blogger once told me she liked how I talked so openly about whatever crossed my mind and how she liked the way I made fun of everything. She had no idea I had that many issues, so I just told her I hid behind my alias and said the things I felt comfortable saying.

I remember I tried to let my anger and frustration out by talking about my marriage; I started a series of posts called “Diaries of an Angry Pregnant Woman”. I talked about my childhood and the years before I met him; I just couldn’t talk about him back then… probably because I was still trying to talk myself into staying in the marriage. I couldn’t just get it out in the open that I was badly hurt by him and somehow continue living with him.

I think shortly after I killed that project, I deleted my blog; I don’t remember why exactly, but I guess I was tired of not being able to channel any of my turmoil at that time. It was exactly a year ago when I deleted it. If memory serves, I deleted after I posted about my late nana; I think that was the closest I have come to talking about my personal pain.

Then I started an older version of this blog that lasted three whole months after I gave birth to my mocha. I named it My Oblivia to leave all the thoughts that haunted in my own oblivion, where I could just have them out of my real life, into the blogsphere; a place where they wouldn’t find their way back to haunt me, while on the other hand I could find them if I was ever ready to deal with them.

I deleted it because he asked me if I had a blog and that he wanted its address if I did. I lied about having a blog, and deleted it after we hung up because I hated having to lie the way he always lied to my face. This is how I punished myself for not being able to tell him the truth!!
After deleting the blog, my thoughts remained in my head depriving me of sleep and peace. I felt nostalgic to my little place that seemed to be more than just an oblivion, but a place I could somehow clear my mind… nostalgia and oblivion; two of my favorite words, two words that somehow contradict, yet made more sense together in my head.

It was where I spilled all my tears when he was playing all his sick games and emotionally manipulating me until I was drained. It was where I spent the first few hours of my 26th birthday shortly after he told me every possible hurtful word he could think of. It was the last time I had a death wish. Sad memories I know, but it was the time I finally decided to stop the abuse he subjected me to and return to who I once was; this makes up for how sad the memories are.

My blog was the way I found my way back to ME, at least one of the ways. I figured that if I missed my blog and cared about having it back more than I cared about my x, then I definitely did not need him in my life. This is why two days later, I revived my blog.

By the end of the same month, I came out. The more I wrote about my failure of a marriage, the better I felt, and the more I realized it was ok, and that it wasn’t as terrible as it felt when I kept piling the things I was unable to talk about except with a couple of people who were probably sick and tired of seeing me ache the way I did and unable to tell me to walk out because they were afraid they did not know better. Yeah, my sisters and my two best friends didn’t tell me it was time to walk out until I decided it on my own; I am grateful that way because I know it came from me.

People kept commenting and telling me the nicest and most supportive words, words I thought I would never really hear because my dear father was so afraid of the whole divorce procedure he decided to scare me! It’s ok, I know where he comes from and I know how badly it must hurt to see his big girl failing in what everyone viewed as a big achievement!!

Through my blog, I got to know some quite interesting people who didn’t know who I was, yet somehow knew me through all the things I wrote. It felt good to be heard and understood after years of me speaking to someone who never bothered listening.

I no longer had to hide from anything!! My Oblivia became who I am. The only reason I kept the name is because I wanted to always remember how I got here, and well, I am too lazy to think of something original.

I am not always in my best moods, but I am content and peaceful most of the time, which I think should be better than happy at some point. I know more hardships are meant to come my way one way or another, but I don’t care; not out of carelessness, but because I would like to believe that deep down I have found my strength, my peace, and most importantly my faith to overcome whatever awaits me. For that, I am thankful.

I am thankful for my father for doing the best he could to rise above his fears and prejudices.

I am trying to be thankful for my mother for her compassion that she hides for some reason under thick layers of insults and hurtful accusations.

I am grateful for Maat for waking up early in the morning to listen to my doubts and pat my back as she talked me out of them, although I turned out to be right after all!!!

I am grateful for my Goody for feeling for me that way she always does despite how she always says she’s apathetic. She’s not! She’s the most sympathetic person I have known, and it’s not because I know 7alaleef.

I am thankful for D, for the way she could just listen to me say nothing for almost an hour, and then tell me “I understand”; I miss her and I wish her nothing but the best, God bless her.

I am thankful for H for being with me on the phone saying all the prayers I needed to hear and making me repeat after her until peace found its way back into my heart. I try to show her that I am always here if she ever needs me; however, I don’t think I could ever pay her back.

I am thankful for G for making me laugh so hard when all I wanted was to cry. He’s in my prayers right next to my Nana.

I am thankful for B for always telling me the right words that would make me pause and think of the ways should be done… istikharas are the best :)

I am grateful for N’s beautiful email that helped me realize I wasn’t as radical as I was made to believe by him… N, you have a beautiful soul.

I am grateful for Will E’s Art Therapy recommendation; I never got the chance to see it through, but I got the chance to have a good friend.

There are more people for whom I am more than thankful. Some of them in my real life and some came from My Oblivia, but this was written to thank my blog for getting me out of oblivion to where there is light and hope of better days. Thank you My Oblivia, I wish I could promise I would never desert you, but such promises are silly, I’d rather promise that I will always be thankful.

** Did this just sound like one of those Oscar speeches?!!!!

Linger

I always loved that song! Ever since I first listened to it; and I loved it even more when I listened to the live version from the Pavarotti and Friends concert for the Children of Bosnia.

It was strange for all my friends to hear me say how much I loved that particular song because they would tell me things like “I don’t see you getting your heart broken over anyone, you have a careful heart and you’re too strong to be wrapped around anyone’s finger” and later, they used to say with a puzzeled tone “but you're happily married, this song does not suit you”… hehehe *sarcastic laugh*

For the past three years, this song used to make me ache way too much. I have verses of it written all over my notebooks, and the journal I kept, and even on word files!! It didn’t just hurt because he hurt me; it hurt because I let him hurt me. I let him wrap me around his finger, I let myself be foolish enough to believe his lame ass lies, I let him use me, and at some point, I let him change me.

This song made me angry at myself more than anyone else!! I thought I was smarter than that; smarter than to fall for a person like him. That’s what people told me all the time, and that’s what I believed; I am a smart person who wouldn’t let any one take advantage of me… again, hahahaha *ok, I actually find this funny*

This song was my worst nightmare come to life! Knowing that he wasn’t worth it, acknowledging he’s a piece of crap and yet for some reason wondering why he had to let it linger.

A few days ago, as I was driving with my sisters to or from Alexandria (I honestly don’t remember), the song played. And for the first time in the past three years, I sang along with a huge smile on my face; no sadness, no bitterness, no anger, but most of all, no linger.

It’s still a good song, too good to remind me of him.

** this was written a coupel of weeks ago, only posted today for Ran

same song, different angle…

My cousin finally got me some of the oldies I asked him for a couple of months ago; he does not have such a bad memory afterall!!

For the first time in a number of years, I listened to Abdel Haleem’s Balash 3etab. My best friend D once forced me into listening to it shortly after a painful break up. I remember telling her the lyrics we more than ok only I couldn’t relate and then somehow turned the whole thing into a joke and well, we were watching the song as part of the movie, and seeing Abdel Haleem singing always cracked me up. If you’re a Abdel Haleem fan, don’t ask.

I listened to the song yesterday, somehow I related. As a matter of fact, a few words just found their way right into the scars I have, causing them to somehow itch.

I was just telling a friend of mine how I related, except for how the song kept saying “ya habeeby”, he is not habeeby; he’s anything but that. My friend told me that the “ya habeeby” is what made the song brilliant, because it made the song more like an unsent letter to the figure once thought of as a loved one, not the current person who no longer was.

I found myself agreeing, because the lyrics, the way they were written; they would only make sense when they are spoken to the person I once thought he was to me. Other than that, it wouldn’t make sense if I say them to the idiot who ruined it all leaving me nothing but dismay for this person, the one he is right now, wouldn’t understand any of it. The person he is right now would mistake it for lingering feelings, and would accordingly think he has an edge that does not even exist; pathetic really!!

Listening to the song, made me realize a couple of things… it’s been a year since he left for China!! Mocha’s birthday is in two months; the whole drama has been going on for almost a year! Boy does time pass!!

It also made me realize that I still remember there were good moments, moments that hurt to remember; not because they make me feel nostalgic, but because it feels like they were wasted on the wrong person for a long time. So for what it’s worth, all the times I have cried through the past year, it wasn’t over him, it was over me and all the lost chances on his account.

This is what I have to say to the not habeeby him: if you have one ounce of anything good in you, just let me go damn it.

Shaking things up…

Everyone is having a rather longer weekend… some people with lives traveled and enjoyed some change of scenery, while some others are too lazy to make plans… I am one of the lazy ones; so I had the time to sit and think of the 10 random things Arima asked for…

But first...


The Rules

• - Post 10 random things about yourself
• - Choose 5 people to tag and a reason you chose each person
• - Leave them each a comment directing them to your blog so they know they are it
• - You can’t tag the person who tagged you (you’ll have to make new friends)
• - As a courtesy to the person who tagged you, please let them know when you have posted so they can have the sheer delight and extra work load of reading your answers)
  
  

My 10 Random Facts

1. I am a Pepsi addict; seriously, I tried quitting, I tried substituting for all other kinds of drinks, nothing worked… I don’t think my bones will age gracefully, do I hear hip replacement at the age of 50!!

2. I am lucky/unlucky for being able to lose/gain weight so easily… either way I suffer financially with the continuous wardrobe changes!!

3. Up until I was 18 or something, I never listened to Arabic songs (except the oldies my dad played in the car during long road trips, when my walkman was busted or simply ran out of battery)… and when I finally did, it was strictly nothing but Fayrouz until a couple of years ago!!

4. I do not pay much attention to most of my properties; one look at my car, laptop and my cell phone, you’d see I am guilty of abuse!! I watch out for other people’s properties thought, I promise!

5. My hands tend to get all hot and sweaty, especially when I am nervous, until they sweat off all the heat and I am left with freezing palms.

6. For someone who has that much perfumes, I am not big on them; I am more of a natural fragrance girl… vanilla is on the top of my list along with berries, country apple, lime and coconut, and light jasmine fragrance… Bath and Body Works stuff are simply the best and The Body Shop is overrated!

7. As articulate as I can be at times, I find it extremely hard to say the words I mean the most; words that reflect sincere authentic emotions just make me stutter… I think I have emotional paralysis… it got a lot worse thanks to my x.

8. As much as I don’t seem to react properly to advice, I actually listen! When it’s good advice from people whom I value their opinion, it usually keeps haunting me until I do by it!!

9.I have authentic phobia from insects and spiders, I MEAN IT. Idiots who thought it was funny to wave a dead insect in front of me or throw an ant under my shirt scarred me for life that now I see a cockroach and I can start crying hysterically! I am way beyond fixing, so don’t try; it will only scar me some more.

10. Up until I had my kids, I always wanted to die young, I never wanted to turn 50… now that I have them, I wanna wait around until they’re all grown up and not needing me, and then I wanna die before I start getting helpless and sick… I have seen how people can age; it scares the shit out of me to be in that place one day.

The people I tag (in alphabetical order)

• 1. Deeeeeee; A sweet girl who knows how to speak her mind, and has an opinion about almost everything :o)
• 2. Embee; Love the sense of humor and the sarcasm; I just never get a chance to comment enough!
• 3. Gun Barrel Klashnikov; He’s bound to say something that is good arguing material; I just love that (hehe)… Everyone here knows about your Godfather obsession though, so different facts please :p
• 4. Nora; One of the sweetest most kind hearted people I have ever dealt with, God bless her :o)
• 5. Ragin Raven; His blog is always a good read, and he likes Edgar Allan Poe; does it get any darker!!
  

Come on people, don’t be shy!

my daily dose of crap!

It’s funny how some things keep getting on my nerves no matter how often they happen and how I expect them to happen; and therefore, just should get used to them happening!! Not funny, rather sad.

Good days should not be ruined by the annoying things I expect to happen, the things that happen almost on daily basis, so why do I let it rain on my parade?!!

Could it be because I keep hoping for a better day?? Does my optimism make me overlook the fact that some shit is bound to happen anyway, and that I should be fine with it because at least it does not come unexpected; I mean don’t the say “the devil you know is better than the one you don’t”… but it is a devil; who wants that??

I am sitting on my desk, allowing myself to dwell, and remembering the hurtful things I’ve been told; the same things I have been hearing over and over, letting them get to me and make me feel like crying.

But I am a big girl now; I shouldn’t cry, not over this, but why the hell not? I mean it still gets to me, and as common as it could be, it hurts the same way every day, and sometimes even more when I am vulnerable. It has been ruining a lot of good days since as far as I can remember, and what gets to me the most is that I know there is no way to change it or avoid it.

It is my bad!! For some reason, some idiotic reason I thought that when life throws shit at you, other things should work out just to make up for all the shit. And I kinda expected the rough edges to soften, only they got much harder and caused more pain, thank you very much; as always, no support, only more shit thrown my way. THANK YOU!!

Whoever said that fire should burn and snakes should bite and that we shouldn’t blame the pig for not being a giraffe should come up here and tell me right now who should I blame when the giraffe is a freakin’ pig!!

Ok, I am leaving now; all I have left to say are angry offensive words that will only make me feel guilty.

Random Wondering!

A while back, a good friend once told me I was a mood setter; when I'm in my happy zone, I possess that energy that just brightens up everyone’s mood… that the happiness I feel is enough to be distributed among all those around me… that it’s a waste to mope around in depression when I can affect people’s moods that way!!! Thank you friend :) For what it’s worth, those words made me feel better when I needed to. Seriously though?!!!!

I am also affected my other people’s moods. The fact that I am a moody person myself can make me go round and round in circles all day long switching moods between rain, rainbows and sunshine!! I can start out laughing, then burst into tears, then just laugh in the middle of my tears as someone points out how crazy I can get.

My friends got the hang of it!! When I am in a bad mood and I have a frown on my face (which I am starting to realize does not last long enough for some people to notice anyway), all it takes is to point out the irony of something or make fun of the other and I join in.

Yep, I am a moody kookoo; I am surprised my friends like me enough to endure the huge emotional mess I can be, especially that between every grand gesture of friendship and the other, I am usually sarcastic, cynical, and too blunt with my opinions, and most recently, self absorbed and emotionally distant.

Which makes me wonder, who wants to be around THIS??!!!!

To my best childhood memory

March 15th marks a sad sad memory in my calendar. It’s the day she passed away, my nana (may she RIP).

I remember that day very clearly starting from the moment my uncle K walked in the apartment, my mom’s loud voice which practically woke me up... walking out of my room, the moment I saw K all collapsed on the couch, I knew it. I posted all about that day in my old blog, in painful details.

What I never said in that post is how angry I was at myself after she died! I never said it because until lately, I had not recognized this anger, probably because I had more stuff to be angry about.


I was angry at myself for not taking enough time to sit with her in the hospital instead of stealing few minutes on my way back home from college to see her… I should have never let my fear of hospitals keep me away from her.

I was angry at myself for not sitting by her side day in and day out begging for her to get well and be there to make me feel as loved as she always did… I should have never let my fear of seeing the strongest person I have ever known collapsing that way cripple me from being by her side.

I was angry at myself for not crying when K held me in his arms saying “khalas, maba2ash feeh neena”… I should have let my tears flow rivers because I knew I would miss her, even when I believed death was her relief from the pain of being so helpless.

I was angry at myself for going to college the next day and doing my presentation, instead of going with every one else to funeral… I should have allowed myself to grief then, instead of telling myself that she will always be there in my heart, not her grave.

I was angry at myself for not crying as hard as I needed until almost a year had passed… I make up for that by crying so hard every time I realize how much I miss her.


Oh my God, every time I think of her, my eyes are filled with tears, I feel that huge lump in my throat, my nose starts running, and I start trembling. Someone told me that our tears over our dead loved ones cause them discomfort. I don’t know that for sure but I make up for my inability to control my tears by praying for her as much as I can and wishing her the best one can get; prayers do help, so I have been told, and so I believe.

Once I start relaxing, I smile and think of her, and start reminiscing… her words… her wits… her slightly tanned skin… her always red cheeks… her beautiful white hair that she used to hide her face with, as an attempt to play with me when I was little… her warm hug that used to make me as safe and protected as I have never felt… her rice pudding… her cooking… how she used to teach me how to roll vine leaves, to work on ka7k el 3eed with that thing… how she’d check if I had washed the glass of water and before filling it up and giving to her… how she’d tell me that rhyming prayer, I seem to fail to remember… all the pet names she used to call me with…and more and more beautiful memories that make my heart feel warm despite the pain of missing her.

Thank you Maat for writing this post about her when I first mentioned on my old blog that I miss her, thanks for dedicating it to me; it inspired me to remember the good things and it reminded me of things I had almost forgotten.

So that’s why March sucks!! That’s why it’s wrong to think Moher’s Day when my own mother figure died 6 days ahead of it!!

And also, my last dream of her was in March 2006, right after my ERCP. It was a scary dream with a golden scorpion (!!!) trying to bite me and my baby sister; she was the one who warned me soon enough to jump and push it away, and the one who told me not to worry as I freaked out…

I miss having her in my dreams; I miss the peace I felt waking up giggling… I hope I would dream of her this month, perhaps I can forgive March then.

Jinxed!!

I am not big on the whole evil eye concept. I acknowledge 7assad, but I don’t dwell, and I don’t blame it for every misfortune, and I sure as hell do not point fingers at people who point out things like how I glow, or how I look too happy for someone in my delicate situation.

HOWEVER, I am not in a good mood, thank you very much. What makes it worse is that I don’t have a good reason to feel cold and blue the way I do right now. Ok, I have silly small reasons; but they are more like a trigger for something that was already there waiting to happen. Even my system was waiting for small things to collapse; the pain in my ribs, the slight nose bleed; it’s fair to say today isn’t great, until now that is.

I hate March, I feel like I await bad things to happen in March. As the 15th approaches I can feel my heart clenching, like it’s waiting for anything to justify some abrupt waterworks. I hate March and I hate Mother’s Day. My kids should totally celebrate having me as their mother in a different month; if they ever think it’s something worth celebrating anyway.

So all of the other things that happened today didn’t help; Mocha’s fever, X’s desperate attempt of an email trying to awaken a nostalgia that died long ago, the hundreds of unanswered calls ringing in Souad Massi’s sad voice saying over and over that he’s unworthy, and finally my phone call with my favorite aunt.

Thinking that my good mood would help me patch things up since I just decided to keep my distance around five months ago (ok, I kinda hold a grudge, sue me!), I called to tell her that her daughter should totally check those amazing pair of pants I saw the other day, and we kept talking.

She was nice and sweet as ever it almost worked for me. Until, her once-an-amazingly-cute-little-boy-now-an-almost-a-grown-up son walked in and asked her to say ‘hi’ for him, and that was when it started. She talked about him. Why?? Why do people find it hard to believe that I am no longer in love with someone I was once in love with? Is it ok for people in love to endure that much abuse?

For the last time, my kids do not need him, and the fact that he put an old photo of him and Beem as a profile picture on facebook does not make him a good father. What kind of a good father wouldn’t recognize his now a 10 month old infant, who by the way does not get the concept of a father and wouldn't recognise him whatsoever? What kind of father spends the last five months not trying to work things out for his own kids? Ento 3ayzeen teganenoony!!!

Ok, I was mostly pissed because as I was talking with my aunt, she mentioned my cousin added him on facebook! So I checked to find that both her son and her husband added him!!! Damn, I don’t want more people getting in the middle, it’s not right. I don’t wanna have to explain to every one who hears about the divorce that it was because he cheated and continuously hurt me. I did it on my blog to be able to keep my mouth shut in real life. And through my blog, a lot of people had already known.

I can’t seem to breathe properly; I feel the air is too heavy for my lungs to take in! My palms are cold and sweaty! I feel like I wanna snap at someone; whoever provokes me today is a dead man. Mama, stay away from me for the love of GOD.

I miss my daddy, I miss D more, and I miss my Nana (may she RIP) the most :( looks like it will be another cleaning day at home! Or shopping (oh God, let it not be shopping, I am too broke)!!

On plans

People overrate plans, or do they??

I am not a planner, never was!! The most I have planned back in the day was a short to-do list that I never got to mark all of it because I got distracted doing other things.

Growing up with a father like mine, I could never have any long term plans of trips with friends, courses, training, or simply hanging out!! How could I when I used to spend every weekend on Cairo-Alex Desert road and back!! And summers, well, there was the family vacation wherever and the two weeks a month in Alexandria.

So if my appreciation for plans is not that big, it’s because I had to be flexible enough to make my plans within my dad’s plans; sometimes even too flexible to have plans anyway!! I mean what’s the use of plans if you cannot control most of the external factors??!!

When I got married, I was the perfect wife that way, no plans of my own!! I mean hey let’s go, why not! Let’s stay in, cool!! I am going with friends, ok, I will call some of my friends and go see them or have them over, or even watch a movie or check on my favorite aunt!! One thing I was really good at, filling my free time; it’s only natural when I put too many things on hold and wait for the time and space to make them happen.

Until I decided that I needed my own plan now that I am on my own, in a sense! And since I am an amateur, my one plan was not air tight. I knew it!! Not that this particular plan would fall to pieces, but the whole idea of a plan not standing long enough.

I am not upset about it, actually, the fact that I am not upset about it makes me glad I am back to my old self; the person who didn’t dwell much on things she couldn’t control, which makes me wonder what this disgrace of husband did to me!!

I mean in the past few years I had turned into a jealous control freak that fights with herself before him to keep all the anger and range under control. I drove myself crazy; but this is what happens when you don’t feel the security and stability you need, you go crazy and lose all connections with who you originally are.

He made me think it was because this is who I was that he cheated, when I remember very clearly who I was before I met him. I was everyone’s friend, the girl you would confide in and know she wouldn’t let you down and who would always make you see the full half of the cup and have your peace with the empty half; big believer in silver linings.

Of course I had an attitude, of course there was a nasty side to me, but the people I loved and cared for had never seen it. Ok sometimes my sisters see that, but they usually have it coming! Yes you do girls ;)

Haaah, it doesn’t matter any more. I am fine with it all, because I am fine with who I am right now, and where I am; because I can relate to who I once was and who I planned on being for a while. Did I say planned?!!! Ok, wanted is a better word. I supposed I jinxed what I wanted to be by calling it a plan at some point!

Even my post about plans discussed an unplanned thought or two!! Yep, plans do not work for me, and it’s ok; perhaps living the moment is not a bad thing; it’s what I was meant to do, so I should just sit back and enjoy it.

** stretching my arms and smiling... yes B, I am becoming all cat-ish

I worry though, big time… I may write about the restless fetch-dog that I am, but that’s another post for later; as long as I don’t plan to write it :)

I don’t get it, I just don’t!!

Is my dad testing me?? I mean does he still not know where I stand?? What the hell is he thinking telling me to consider the possibility of returning to him????

I mean mom, well, her words mean nothing, she can say all about how he had his good moments of how I can be intolerable, but my dad!!! I am disappointed, big time.

No. It’s a very simple word and I plan to stick to it; no one can make me go back if all I say is NO. I am no longer listing the reasons and I am no longer even selling the case or trying to prove that my kids are better off being with me on my own than with him.

I am so tired of saying it over and over because no matter how much I do, no one really knows that I know I did my best and that I did try to make it work until I no longer could. If it didn’t work then, there is no chance in hell it would work when I don’t want it to.

Trying to guilt me into my kids’ best interest won’t work; I will not let it work. I am allowing myself to be selfish on this one; my kids’ best interest is in my happiness and in my peace, which are no where near him.

So stop telling me I am not that great a mother; I already know, and I am trying to be better. And don’t you dare tell me I can’t do it alone; because I know that if I can’t do it alone, I won’t do it with him anyway.

And by the way, telling me that you know how unhappy I am; having to live here, you have no idea. Having to return to this home, and in this way has been a nightmare I tried to avoid for so long until I realized I there’s much worse, him. If you think I like the invasion of privacy, mama’s continuous insults, feeling like a burden every other day, think again!! I am just more willing to take it all over being around him, at any given day. Because as obnoxious as everyone here gets to be from time to time, and as hurt as I can get because of insensitive words said in moments of anger, it’s much less abuse than what I have been subjected to with him.

So, just to be clear; NO, and I am not going back because this is what I owe myself after all that’s been said and done.

My kids, they will have to live by what’s best for me until they can decide for themselves. I am not denying them a father; he can be there for them if he can handle it, but he is no longer invited to be there for me no matter how he might want to. And spare me; it’s not because I am hurt or sore, it’s not because I am being emotional. It’s for all the logical reasons; he’s not to be trusted or respected.

I have moved on, so why can’t everyone????!!!

On Signs

Do you believe in signs; as in things that happen along the way that help put you on your right path, or the other for that matter?

I think I believe in them! Yes, I think; I always use the word ‘think’ to neutralize anything I am about to say; it’s a Gemini thing I guess!

Back to signs, I am all for the notion “everything happens of a reason”; nonetheless, I continue to miserably fail in figuring out the right reason at the right time!

So when things are going rather smooth and easy, is it “because it is meant to be”? or “it is blessed”? or is it “the calm before the storm”??

And when things are hard and complicated, is it “because it is not meant to be”? or “it is jinxed”? or is it “it’s a test to see how badly we want it and to see what we’re truly made of”? or “nothing really comes easy in life”?

While I am at it… which one is it?? Should we fight for what we want and what we believe?? Or should we let it go and if it is meant to be it will happen anyway; if it’s ours, nothing will change that??

My problem is not about believing in signs I guess; it’s interpreting them that I find very tricky. I am in peace with my destiny; I know that all that had happened somehow happened for a reason. I kinda figured some of the reasons, only rather late! I saw the signs early on, I just misinterpreted them.

I learned a lot along the way; I learned how to control my temper, how to stop myself from blurting the wrong things when I am angry, I learned to think of consequences, I learned to put myself in the other person’s shoes, I learned to take it easy with the worrying and the obsessing, I learned that I am incapable of inflicting harm, I learned to have more faith, I learned to have a little patience, I learned to let go and not look behind, I even learned to stop asking ‘why’ when knowing is useless!

I haven’t however learnt one thing, or two; I haven’t learned how to totally trust my instincts without thinking I could be wrong and that things could be the other way around; and hence, I haven’t learned how to interpret any signs.

So now, signs just keep on haunting me instead of giving me peace and reassurance!! What a mess? And just when I thought I knew how things would go!

Nonetheless, I can’t stop smiling... for that i am eternally grateful :) I just keep forgetting to breathe.

Yes, it’s true… some my friends are dumb!

Dumb is the least I can describe that friend with! I mean don’t get me wrong, I love her, but she can make me wanna slap her silly because of the shit she utters every time we talk about relationships!!

She is my age, our fathers are best friends since college, but we only became friends around 9 years ago! She’s so easy to talk to once you get past the harsh sarcasm and lesan taweel. And well, belonging to my family, I am pretty much used to it, so it only took me one night at their place to open up to her, and since then, we’ve been good friends. Da mayemna3sh enaha 7omara.

I mean she’s been there all that time!! She’s seen me falling for him; it is worth mentioning she was the only one in my friends who liked him, which I find disturbing especially that he never really liked her!! Her exact words were “now you can stop giving me crap about the way I act with my boyfriend, now that you’re in love”. She was dreaming; I gave her more crap.

She was the first one I talked to about my disappointment in him after I talked to D. Actually she was making a stupid comment about how she hoped she and her fiancé (now her husband) would have the perfect fairytale like I did, so I started laughing hysterically until my laughter turned to tears, then sobbing. This was how she found out, me crying and saying those words out loud after I promised D and myself I would forget and pretend it never happened.

Since then she’s been updated with the crap he did. She was with me on the phone when I was going to the airport to pick him up after his glorious return. She was there when I had lost hope, and acknowledged that my marriage was over, and she had the NERVE to talk me out of it and tell me that there still might be hope. I have him to thank for waking me up soon enough by being as obnoxious as ever.

She was stupid enough to leave me a comment after all that on the one family photo I still have on FaceBook with him and my older son, saying something like “rabena yekhaleeko le ba3d we ye7fazko men el 3een” thinking I wouldn’t be able to reply since not all of my FB contacts have a clue. Taba3an etshatamet.

Now she actually dares to have this phone conversation with me:

Her: so how is he?
Me: stop asking me about him, I don’t know anything about him anymore!! Try to understand that it is over
Her: come on, 7 years do not just end like that!
Me: they do… you actually saw how they ended, betetkalemy fe eh?!!!
Her: but all men cheat! I mean you should consider his other qualities
Me: enty habla wala shaklek keda, ok, let’s say cheating is a given, which u know I do not even buy, but what other qualities? Humiliating me to everyone, wel fadaye7? Insulting me? Walking out on me when I was sick in the hospital? Not checking on our kids? Calling me crazy until I almost believed it? Lying to me for seven freaking years because he loved me?
Her: yeah yeah I know, I am totally with you… but no marriage is happy; all married women complain, all married women do not like their husbands, but they endure them because of other considerations… in your case, the kids… perhaps law konty betoolek kont 2a2olek fe dahya
Me: (I had an itching comment about her and her husband only I decided to keep it to myself) ok, try to get that... I will not remain in this marriage because of my kids… I won’t even say it’s better for them this way, I will just say that I will not force myself to be miserable for anyone; I can’t make anyone happy if I am unhappy, 7awly tefhamy
Her: ana fahmaky wallahy
Me: ommal eh, ghatata? Walla ghabawa?!!
Her: but all women endure shit from their husbands, kol el settat bel nesbalhom egwazhom welad kalb bel keteer ba3d awel sana gawaz
Me: that wasn’t the case for me; he meant something all the time we were together until he ruined it!!!
Her: manty elly 7ala ghareeba, el nas el tanya heya el norm, enty 7ala shazza
Me: great… then let me remain the way I am and walk out of this while other women would choose stay… I will not listen to any of that, I am not like other women who pretend to be happy for whatever social reasons… he is not worth any of it, and I already wasted enough on him… not a bone in my body is yearning for him, so why should I go back, mafeesh qabool, isn’t that what it’s about… you say I was 7ala shazza because I was still in love with him after a few years of marriage, because I could still see something loveable about him, well, I tell you if I lost that, I have no reason to stay… and of all people you know I didn’t just run out of love, I also had resentment and hatred, you know all the nasty details and you hated him for doing this to your friend, so don’t stand and defend this marriage… gawaz eh el mo2ref elly yastamer based on that


I think the tone I said the last part with scared her off. If not, I can take the next ride to Alexandria and personally kick her a$$.

Alone again, naturally

Why do people hate alone? Why do they fear alone? I don’t think alone is bad; there are much worse things.

Alone is my favorite poem by Edgar Allan Poe. Alone is what I am in every emotional moment, and I don’t hate it, nor am I afraid of it; probably because I have seen what’s worse, which is being with someone who made me yearn for being alone.

It’s been a while since I felt upset about anything lately, but of course something had to happen and change that… yesterday was the worst night in a while, and today wasn’t great either. And this is when it hit me, lying in bed holding both of my kids and trying so hard not to let myself cry; I am alone!

I didn’t want to call my aunt to rant, I didn’t want to call H for some moral support, I didn’t want to share my moment of weakness with anyone. I kept talking to myself and reassuring myself it will be ok, I know it will be, and when it does, I want it to be my own work, without anyone’s help!!

Years ago, I felt that way, and I called him thinking he was a shoulder I could cry on… and here I am right now because of that stupid notion. I am right here in this very place because I mistakenly thought he would be there for me instead of depending on myself.

Alone is not bad, alone is just fine. This is what I have to tell myself every time I feel that overwhelmed. I should not need anyone to make me feel better, I should know how to feel better on my own; this is the only way I wouldn’t get disappointed.

I did not let the negative energy consume me; I didn’t mope in my bed and let half awake sleep take advantage of me. I got up and started cleaning up; that’s the best I can do now when I am feeling angry and/or hurt, clean up! It’s funny because I am quite the messy person by nature, but now I know exactly where everything goes, it took me around an hour to fold every item of clothing back to where it belonged. And I did it because I decided to be alone, instead of running to the phone and dialing a friendly number.

Thank you for the hurtful and thoughtless words! They reminded me of all the things I had almost forgotten. They reminded me of why I so wanted to leave before, and they also reminded me that I should not expect help from anyone.

I can do it alone; I would rather do it alone than depend on someone who is bound to let me down making me feel so worthless and inadequate once they get tired of my existence or stop finding great company in my presence.