My Oblivia

I'm Moving!

2010-01-01T01:12:00.000+02:00

Since moving is something I hope I'd be able to do in 2010, I thought I'd start it virtually first and see how I'd adjust to something different...

I'm on wordpress now, I never saw it coming, and I am still sort of attached to here, but I gotta try new things...

This blog will always feel like home, and perhaps I'd keep coming back to it...

Blogger, Adieu, you've been good to me!!

Oh, I almost forgot... I'll be there

2009, Adieu!

2009-12-31T12:06:00.003+02:00

I think 2009 was a good year despite my major losses, disappointments (at myself), and recent downs!

No no no no, I won’t mope or talk about the bad stuff, I will list the good and show my gratitude because I sincerely feel it.

I got my divorce, and that actually felt like 2009’s gift to me!

I spent amazing days at the pool with the Roosh, and people; I think I know how to swim now!!! *gasp*

I got my best birthday surprise ever at the age of 28, and it was so worth the wait!

I travelled like I’ve been wanting for the past two years, and I was on a mommy break too… not a sister break though (:p)… next time, I’m travelling with friends!

I spent quality time with my jazzy friend :) and I refuse to see it under any shade of ka2aba!

I made a few new friends who seem to believe I can things I’m not even sure I can do!!

And, today isA, I will steal a few hours from all the family obligations at home and meet with Rasha for our end-of-year tradition to seal the year.

May 2010 be a better year!

P.S. Rasha, this post is for you, and you better make it today because I don’t wanna say goodbye alone, hay2oolo “el magnoona aheh”

Trouble in mind…*

2009-12-22T11:07:00.011+02:00

Trouble in mind, I'm blue...

Too much of that in my poor head; thoughts that battle with me one after the other, they mingle and tangle until I’m too tired to take any of them or figure them apart one at a time!

Trouble in mind, that's true
I have almost lost my mind,
Ain't never had so much
Trouble in my life before

In a futile attempt I try to trace everything back to where it began, hoping that by doing so I’d be able to understand, and perhaps find much needed solutions. Unfortunately, it’s too far behind; so I just take the lead from the here and now.

I am a 28-year old single mom who is basically judged by her own family whether they admit to it or not. Until now, my parents try to dodge being asked about my marital status and when they’re left with no choice but admitting it, they say it in a low tone of voice and while looking away! Instead of being referred to as the rebel and the trouble maker like before, I am rather the failure or the shameful disappointment, although they acknowledge and explain that it was the best thing to do!

My motherhood is questioned each and every day, not just by me, but by those who should know better about my needs and know nothing about motherhood! I mean, my dad’s job was to provide, I’m grateful he did more than that and shaped us in a way my mom would have never been able to… but I provide too, and I try to find the patience and the energy to shape my boys, problem is, I am still not exactly shaped myself!!! Ma, I… well… I see mothers in a lot of other women her age, but in her; I saw it in my late nana (Allah yer7amha), I saw it in S (Allah yer7amha), I see it in so many of my tants who perhaps think I am an ungrateful daughter because she complains all the time and because I get hurt silently and let my pride handle it by walking away. My sisters know nothing of responsibilities and living up to them; they want to chase their own butterflies, but they just don’t get that I was denied chasing mine. I am not envious, but they don’t get to tell me I should spend more time being a mother, because may be I need the previous butterfly-chasing experience to be a mom, and until they're better mothers themselves, they should just stop with the insulting advice and implications.

I did marry too young. I thought marrying someone for love would be the best way to escape all the control and suffocation at home and have a lifelong companion with whom I could just live my youth before I settle and build the family. It never happened, not for long enough anyways, because unlike me, he wanted to live up to whatever this society dictated, and well, we react differently, and his reaction sucked big time. Unfortunately, it gravely affected my life and changed it beyond any attempts to undo the change!

I wish I could just explain that forcing me to grow up will not make me a grown up, at least not as gracefully as I would like! But hey, everyone knows much better about that, even those who never even tried on my shoes! The arrogance! Why do I have it in me to listen to those who choose to block their ears to my explanations?!

I still can’t believe I’m 28! I still feel like 19 most of the time; my dreams since then never exactly came to reality; not that I want the same dreams, but I lack the fulfillment of having changed my mind because I chose to, rather than adjusted to the changes that took over my life.

I have the remains of a teenage-anger and the need to go all over the place and make things happen. I have a dreamer who’s constantly being told it’s too late to dream and it’s time to check in with reality and do as requested. The free spirited rebel refuses those words but it’s tied down and has nothing to show but anger and resentment.

Trouble in mind, I'm blue
But I won't be blue always…

But then, the optimist in me keeps repeating that all can be done; all can be achieved given time and patience.

I so want to believe it because otherwise, I will just lose… lose all the losses I have already lost over and over again!

'Cause the sun's gonna shine
In my backdoor some day.

In the midst of all my thoughts, I realize that tears are overflowing from my eyes like they haven’t in a long time. I touch my eyes and my face in the dark, and I pat my own cheeks as I whisper “it will be ok, it will be ok… no, it won’t be ok… but you will be ok, you will be ok”

Well it's trouble, oh trouble,
Trouble on my worried mind…
When you see me laughin',
I'm laughin' just to keep from cryin'

I keep telling myself “you’ll be ok, you’ll be ok”

'Cause the sun's gonna shine
In my backdoor some day.

* Song Tribute: Trouble in Mind by the amazing Nina Simone; I couldn’t find the version I have with all the lyrics on utube, but this is the one with the best piano by Nina, do check it out; it’s inspiring!

Homeless…

2009-12-20T16:13:00.001+02:00

I was running an errand and I had to go to a home appliances and hardware store, and it hit me right there…

I am homeless.

I have been since I gave birth to my Beem! Since then, I lived with my in-laws and my sense of belonging to my own home vanished one day after the other; I couldn’t do my laundry whenever I wanted, yet I had to do it before anyone else beat me to it, making me look and feel like an incompetent wife. My life became even more stressful because I felt like a guest in addition to dealing with being a new mom. I kept failing one task after the other because I was spread too thin.

After I gave birth to my Mocha, I was back to my parents’, and until last May, I was struggling for my divorce. I have a room separate from the rest of the household, it has its own bathroom and it’s own “living”. However, I could never really do any of the little random purchases for none of the things I bought matched or belonged to my parents’ place, just like I no longer belong.

I stood there, staring at the laundry hamper trying to figure out if I shall buy it and keep it in my stuffed room anyways! The thought led to how I need to re-paint the damn room and get a closet to fit all our stuff in it, one thought led to the other and the final conclusion was clear, I do not have a home.

I know it’s a roof above my head and my kids’, but it’s not a home, not my home. I constantly feel like I have to abide by rules I supposedly outgrew just because I live under that roof. I am forced to go to Alex whenever there’s a family event, I am forced to go on vacations, I abide by dumb curfews because I do not want to upset my dad and because I owe them that little for taking care of me and my kids! Well, day after another, I feel less loved in this place, and it is most likely my oversensitivity, but I constantly feel used and disposable in a sense, and I don’t have the right to object because it’s not my place.

I need my place. I need to sit down and write how much it will cost me to move out and start making a plan, and follow it. I have no idea if it’s the right thing to do for either myself or my kids, but I am no longer sure what’s right; there are no guidelines, and every freakin’ thing is relative and all I know is that I can’t go on like that anymore!!

Another insomniac night…

2009-12-20T10:04:00.003+02:00

23:00 (or so) – I go to bed so that I can wake up at six and drive to Cairo, and be on my desk on time.

01:10 – I open my eyes for absolutely no reason… I toss and turn in bed until I dose off.

02:20 – I open my eyes again! Could it be the headache? I keep trying to convince myself to sleep again until all of a sudden, I burst into tears, too many tears! I barely walk to the bathroom, splash cold water on my face and go back in bed and dose off again.

02:45 – Beem screams in his sleep, so I reach out to his bed, and tell him “ana hena ya beem”, he says he wants to go to the bathroom, I switch the light on, and wait for him until he’s back and tuck him in bed, then I fall asleep again!

03:30 – I open my eye again to realize that I was just having a nightmare of someone trying to get into my hotel room, and that Beem was scared. I feel like someone was literally pulling the headache out of my eyes and nostrils and that my scull feels like it has been shaken and rattled all night long! Se3bet 3alaya nafsy tany but I couldn’t even cry; I was too tired! I take off my sweatshirt, and sleep in my t-shirt under the covers.

06:00 – I hear the humming of Manha de Carnaval, my alarm is off, I snooze and stay in bed trying to convince myself to get up from under the covers. I finally reach out for my sweatshirt and put it on. As tired as I was, I just didn’t think I could sleep one more minute and get startled that way again!

I made it to work on time; actually, I am never on time when I leave from home, which is in the same neighborhood as my work!! All through the way, I listened to music and kept the windows of my car opened as I was driving at a 120km/hr speed!

I am just realizing now that I am both sleepy and hungry, and the headache is coming back! My boss told me I could go home, but I know I won’t get any sleep with that insomnia! Oh, and that night was after an entire coffee-free day!!!!!!

Every freakin’ time…

2009-12-18T11:42:00.004+02:00

Me: but do I really have to come? Can’t you just go and leave me with the boys??

Baba: *in a firm tone* no, we’re going with friends, you need to be there for them; moreover, you and the boys could use a change of scenery away from the daily routine.

Mama: why are you so upset? you could use the fun…

Me: *interrupting with utter frustration* but there is NEVER any fun, I drive long distances while everyone else other than baba and whoever else driving gets their share of rest. We arrive and the kids are too active while I’m drained. Everyone wants to go discover places that are not necessarily kids friends, so either I am stuck ALONE with them in the room or a play area, or join to a place where I have to keep chasing them while screaming at the top of my lungs. No fun for me. And when we have breakfast or dinner, everyone keeps looking at me like I’m supposed to put them on leash and muffle their little mouths with food or go entertain them elsewhere so that everybody else can have their meal quietly! At the end of the trip, everyone had their fun, EXCEPT ME; and neither have I kept company of my friends, enjoyed a quiet night scene by the pool or the beach, and sometimes I don’t even get to see the beach because my kids would jump there and no one would help!!

We have this very same fight every single time friends visit from out of town and we go vacationing! In every single trip, comes a moment when my mom yells at me in front of our friends, pointing out that those are my kids and I should not be having any fun or ME-time until they’re old enough! And every single time, I end up in an empty hotel room faced by how tired I am of it all, and I sit on the very same edge of the bed and stare at the half-opened luggage as I fight the tears from pouring out of my eyes!!

Am I the only one who sees it? There is kids time every weekend when I take them out with or without their dad, there is ME-time after hours with friends alone, which by the way, I seem to steal away, or worse, when my friends bail, I end up trying to spend it and enjoy it on my own because that’s the only break I get!!! And those vacations freakin’ suck…

And mama and her hurtful ways as always… ok I get she wants to be with her friends bla bla bla… but hello, this woman barely kept any of her friends to begin with! The only ones she has are the wives of baba’s friends.

And yes, I know those are MY kids, I should be responsible, not her. But who is she to judge, ever since I can remember it was always “inso, take care of your sisters… don’t let them stray… take them with your friends…” and I am four years older than my sister, and 6 years older than baby sis!!

AND, on our last vacation, I left my kids with my parents and they left their with me. Normally, there would be no comparison since my sisters are old enough to take care of themselves, BUT NOOOOOO, she would call me and ask me about every single meal they had, and whine about how mine are driving her crazy. For the love of GOD, I cried so many nights on that vacation because of the stress she caused!! And when baby sis decided to take off to a different city on her own, I was the one who was left to take all the blame from every family member who had my number!! I was the one who managed the luggage, and paid the difference for the extra weight (because “you have more money”). So I was forced to take charge because “enty el kebeera” just like I am expected to act all responsible 3ashan “enty mamethom”

I look back and I can’t stop thinking that I never had MY TIME where I was the one to be taken care of, and it feels so freakin’ unfair, and yet no one else sees it and no one wants to give me a break because “it’s her responsibility and her role” what a load of BS!

So now, I am in an empty hotel room, both of the boys went to prayers with my parents and their friends after mama made the usual scene in front of a different tant and uncle and baba decided to just wrap things up.

I could go to the beach and have me-time, or join the girls (my sisters and my friend), but my mood is all ruined now and my back still hurts from a very exhausting week. I will just sulk in bed until I feel like I can put on my smile and my friendly posture, or until they’re back.

I really wanted to have fun, but it’s too much effort when no one understands what it’s like to be you!

A Musical Week…

2009-12-17T11:39:00.016+02:00

Sunday – I visited an old childhood friend with another childhood friend visiting from Canada. I was mostly silent while driving sinking in my own thoughts and moving my lips along with Fayrouz’s album Wala Kif (Ziyad Rahbany is GENIOUS). When I went home and logged on, I found a friend of mine had sent me this song!

انا مش فارس ولا فتى احلام
انا زحمة وربكة وشغل جنان
نصى بيضحك والتانى زعلان
انا شيخ فلتان
طيب شرير وجرىء وجبان
اوقات مشرق واوقات بهتان
وساعات سلم وساعات تعبان
مفترى جدا وكمان غلبان
شبابيك وبيبان توهه عنوان
انا من الاخر عفريت لابس بدلة انسان

It doesn’t speak for me really, but I liked something about it nonetheless, ok, the lyrics, the voice is not even remotely nice!!

Monday – once I went to work, I downloaded that song into the music file where I keep the songs that friend sent me, and glancing at those songs, I decided to re-listen to Supergirl! I didn’t remember being impressed by it, but somehow it made sense; after all, I am a supergirl :)

Tuesday – Roosh sent me four songs composed by Marcel Khalife and sung by Omayma. I already knew two of them; Ana ra7 sammeik and Love you more, they are two of my favorites actually, and I just loved the other two; Bekteblak and Ejta7. It just took me back to the oriental mood. On my way back Safer ghareeb el dar played and my heart lingered on this verse…

يا سكة الأحلام، يا مغلبة روحي
اشكيكي للأيام، ولا اشتكي روحي
علمت قلبي يميل، للحب و المواويل
و حلمت حلم جميل بالجنة و أنا في النار

I shared the song and the lyrics with my music companion whom I know is a sucker for lute music.

Wednesday – I went to a stationary store for an errand, and I found that handmade wooden lute; it reminded me of my friend and Ziyad Sahhab. I bought the wooden lute went back to the office and kept playing his album.

Then I went to Puccini’s La Boheme at Cairo Opera House, on my own. I sat there in the balcony, closest to the stage where I could see the orchestra. It was overwhelming! I was mostly taken by soprano voices especially that no tenor is as good as Bocelli, as good as the lead tenor was!! I barely followed the translation, I was mostly taken by the orchestra. I don’t walk around with a camera, so my mobile shots shall do!

Then Ziyad Sahhab took me home with more of Negm’s lyrics, which baba seemed to have liked as I picked him on my way home.

Today – My music companion sent me Chaza for Marcel Khalife, just violins, my favorite. WOW. My heartbeats are still racing, and every time I play it, I just have this “fear” that it would end!!!! What can I say, violins do that to me!!

I will drive to el Ein el Sokhna with the girls after work, and although I would willingly play any of the masterpieces I listened to through the week, I’d like suggestions people… you must have figured out the things I liked.

God bless music, and of course those who make it, and perhaps even those who share it too :)

I think this sums it up!

2009-12-13T14:18:00.004+02:00

I bought my beautiful red laptop almost two years ago. I call it DelLayla (because it’s Dell, and because I wanted to have a daughter and name her Layla – and I am not having anymore kids khalas). DelLayla is around a year younger than Mocha, she has a scratch on the mouse left button and the letter ‘A’ and it hurts my eyes every time I see them. I thought of selling her and getting a new one, but when I checked the ones available online, I didn’t find one exactly like her, so I promised to keep her until she’s obsolete… oh, and she still has some time, I made her long lasting.

Less than two months after I got myself a new phone for my own birthday, Beem bruised its speaker. A couple of weeks ago, I slipped it inside my purse loosely inserted in its pouch and my keys scratched a part of its screen. Every time I look at my cute red E71, I can’t help but feel the urge to either fix it, or get a new one! Ironically, I only want one exactly similar to it!!

Since the mirror thing, and after enough sanay3eya have tampered with my car during the past week, I can’t stop thinking about selling it and getting a new one. I am not big on the color, but I want something as convenient and within the same price range, only the upgrade of the same model doesn’t attract me the least bit!! I’d go for the older model if I find it in a different color!

It’s exactly the same with my life! It has too many bruises all over, and I constantly want to change it, but I can’t seem to find a different one that suits me! This life is MINE, with all its sad drama and its inconveniences, it still holds my memories, the good ones and the bad ones that shaped me… it holds my kids, who whether I like it or not, remain the one thing that keeps me together even when I no longer have it in me to care! It’s my life, and I do not get another one, and I constantly feel that I’ve messed it up beyond repair; I feel like I’m just waiting until it ends, just like I wait for DelLayla, my phone, and my car to stop functioning so that I won’t feel guilty about throwing them away.

My life is a mess beyond repair. I know it, and try as I might; there is no way of fixing it! Trust me, I’ve seen all the angles and considered all the possibilities, none seems to fit.

Can I just get a new one? I wish I could; I can’t even daydream of a new one because this one keeps haunting me every single minute!

Oh well…

Let this find you wherever you go…

2009-12-13T10:29:00.005+02:00

I wish you’d cry in blood all the rivers that gushed from my eyes…

I wish you’d taste manure in your throat for every time I tasted blood in mine after every nosebleed you caused…

I wish your guts would be filled with puss just like you filled mine with fear,anxiety, and desperation…

I wish you’d feel that painful rage stiffening your neck and wrecking your nerves for every time I couldn’t breathe because I was too angry…

I wish nightmares would haunt all your sleeping hours depriving you from any peace and quiet, just like you keep taking mine away…

I wish looks would kill, and that would have you taken care of…

But most of all, I wish you’d disappear, like you never even existed, and that my kids would do well without you…

This is not hate, this is anger, and I hope it burns no one else but you, for it has already gotten to me! I just hope it would be inflicted on you multiplied by millions…

Oh, and in case none of that ever happens, I wish I could find the ability to use all my curse words in one long abusive sentence that would insult you like you’ve never been insulted, badal ma batahteh zay el habla every time you get on my poor nerves…

teeet

2009-12-10T12:18:00.004+02:00

My phone rings, an unfamiliar number…

Me: Allo
Female Voice: Alo, salamo alaykom, telephone Madam (ana)
Me: Aywa, ana (me), meen ma3aya…
Her: ana (can’t remember her name aslan) men maktab bostet el zamalek…
Me: ahlan wasahlan… *waiting for her to say what she wants of me, I had no clue what a post office employee would want of me!!!*
Her: howa geh le7adretek 7ewala bareedeya be nafaqa mosta7aqa men abu el welad
Me: *rather alarmed at the mention of the x*, ah, azon keda, khelal el esboo3 elly fat…
Her: we mageteesh estalamteeha leh??
Me: *huh, since when do they check if post payments are cashed by phone* umm, asl… mama estalametha we heya ma3aha tawkeel, fa momken 3ala yoom el sabt *surprisingly, I was being as honest as can be, I knew mama received the notification but I didn’t know how the procedure went and I never asked mama for the money, they go to the boys account*
Her: la mesh moshkela ana aslant agaza ennaharda, ana kont 3ayza bas akallemek 3ashan ashoofek yoom ma testelmeeha
Me: *sort of alarmed!* na3am!
Her: asl ana 3ayza atkallem ma3aki washoof eza kan momken nessala7 el denya… *then she paused waiting for a reaction from me*
Me: *both startled and offended* AFANDEM!!!
Her: na3am? *she obviously didn’t get that I was objecting*
Me: afandem!!! *I obviously couldn’t find any other polite word to express my dismay without subjecting her to my ultimate rudeness*
Her: esma7eely, ana set kebeer, 3andy 7aga w 50, ya3ne fe ma2am mamtek (did she just lose even more points??) we 3arfa ad eh el denya sa3ba, ana 3andy 5 welad… we lama shoft el ostaz (the x), we 3ereft eno mettala2 fel senn da (he looks younger than his age according to some, and so do I!) sa2alto 3ando welad walla la2, we 3eeno damma3et we howa bey2ool asameehom… fa oltelo yedeeny nemretek 3ashan akallemek we neshoof ezay momken nerraga3 el osra…
Me: (TEEET) ma3lesh 7adretek, 7adretek abelty wa7ed mate3rafehoosh, wetkalemty ma3ah 3ala wa7da mate3rafehash; 7adretik shofty ganeb wa7ed we seme3ty na7ya wa7da, wana ma3andeesh este3dad a7ky mawdoo3 et2afal le7ad ghareeb lemogarrad eno 3eenoh damma3et!
Her: *baffled* ya habibty ana batkallem le masla7tek, enty akeed soghayara we weladek me7tageenek enty we babahom ma3ahom…
Me: *getting really agitated we eh "habibty" de!!* ma3lesh, ana me2adara sho3oor 7adretik, bas ana asfa geddan, el kalam fel mawdoo3 da entaha we ostaz (the x) 3aref entaha ezzay w leeh, we mayenfa3sh yet7al be mokalmet telephone… ana beggad asfa le ta3ab 7adretik (bent nas ana awy)
Her: *really embarrassed* la ya habibty wala yehemmek, salamo 3aleiko
Me: 3aleikom al salam *and I hung up*

Ok, again *teet*!!!!

I mean is he dense?? We’re divorced; he is still in the place where he thinks we can reconcile and “nerga3 le ba3d”!!!! Moreover, he was not the one who had granted me the divorce, I had it through court, and appeal; I whined and cried on this blog for two years before I got my freedom!!!! And all he can do is make a stranger call me!!!

Not that it matters, but it’s so freakin’ demeaning!!!!

We kaman, el "osool" bet2ool en the right thing to do is for him to come in person, talk to my dad, show all signs of remorse and willingness to fix all things granting all the crazy requests which he should acknowledge our rights to!! I mean that’s what I hear is manly according to this sick twisted society, mesh wa7da ma3rafhash tekalemny tebaketny 3ala welady… eh el *teet* da!!

I am sort of glad though he’s not that kind of “reformed” to behave that way because I still don’t want to have anything to do with him aside from the boys. I just don’t get it!! What kind of a person thinks that’s a way to fix a marriage, la2, to remake a marriage; there is nothing to fix!!

And what kind of woman would think that another woman would want any man back after she got her divorce through court!! I hate those women who think women can’t do without their ex-husbands just because they have kids; they weaken our perceptions and self worth and make shitless assholes think they can dominate us – and no, this is not the feminist in me talking, I am just angry a person thinks all my pain and humiliation are worth no more than a silly phone call! I hate how my strong opinion will be taken as “batar” according to Egyptian society terms… 7aga tesed el nefs 3al sob7!!

YUMMY...

2009-12-09T22:29:00.007+02:00

with a mug of black coffee... *dreamy smiley*

Photo Credits

A much needed reminder…

2009-12-08T10:41:00.003+02:00

So yesterday, I got to my car which was parked right in front of our building to find that some (insert bad BAD words here) – ahem idiot- had broken my left rear view mirror and it was dangling so miserably from the side of my door! I tried to put it back but it was obviously broken beyond my attempts to repair it, so I opened the door to get in and I found that the black plastic thingy (greeda, according to the driver) fell off too!

I kept summoning curse words in my head and I really wished I could see the piece of scum who did that to my car!

Luckily, having personal belongings “hurt” does not get to me that much. Of course I kept thinking that perhaps it’s time I fix this car and sell it and upgrade, but I got over it by the time I had arrived at work; after all, I have an ugly scratch on my pretty phone and a bruise on the speakers thanks to my Beem!!

Only I had a nagging thought all day… WHY?!!!!

Why would an idiot hit and run a car without having the decency to leave a card or a number behind? Why would he/she bump into my car to begin with?! I mean, I was properly parked without any car pieces bulging in the way!! WHYYYY? Ya3ne howa I need more reasons to be in a bad mood masalan?? And I don’t remember owing karma anything recently 3ashan da yetla3 3alaya keda!!!

The thought didn’t leave me alone all my way home driving without a side rear view mirror that I happen to use, unlike most people in Egypt!! And then, while waiting for a retard to let me pass through an intersection instead of blocking it, I found myself bursting in hysteric laughter… things, bad things happen all the time, whether we earn them or not really!! Ya3ne heya de awel marra?! I have lost my fair share of favorite personal belongings, hell, I’ve had my life turned around enough times to stop wondering why such things happen!! They simply happen because they do; they’re meant to happen for whatever reasons I might never really understand!

But I still wish that idiot bumped into a tree or like I publicly wished on my FB status “we2e3 fe asas 3emara” and in case he survived both, I hope he/she might get a bad diarrhea like my uncle suggested!!

I think I need to be constantly reminded that I should take it easy on all the WHY’s I have in mind; the world does not owe me explanation for everything really, and neither do people, at least not most of the time!! If I just learn to keep that in mind and hold on to my smile and positive thinking; at least my car still worked, and alhamdulilah I am in good shape and so are my boys and loved ones.

Ok, it’s alarming how good I rather feel today considering all the crap I have in mind!! I’m grateful, and I’m smiling too!! I think I’m weird!

To my Jazzy Friend ;)

2009-12-05T19:04:00.003+02:00

Since I just realized that I won’t have enough motivation to wake up that early, not even on working days, I decided to dedicate that song to you; you love Billy, no?

In small cafes (too)…

In quiet streets with old artistic buildings and broken sidewalks…

In every lovely winter’s day, when the sky is clear and the sun is warm…

Until I see you again, I’ll be seeing you :)

A Different Day!

2009-12-04T23:30:00.002+02:00

Today, I woke up too early for a Friday morning to meet a friend on the other side of town. Around five hours later, after having morning coffee (with chocolate muffin), talking about everything that came to our minds, and walking round and round in circles in Korba, we said goodbye pretty quickly for two friends who live in different countries and have no idea when they’d meet again…

Then I was supposed to call another friend who bailed on me – it’s ok, I forgive you; I survived the rest of the day on my own without fighting with myself like I usually do!

I kept driving on my own listening to my music and discovering how all the roads lead to one another and making mental notes of the shortest ways to get around – I like doing that!

I kept looking for empty streets…

I needed to stop by the computer mall to get a new flash memory instead the one I lost when I was on vacation, but when I parked and stepped into the mall, I realized I didn’t have the energy to ask for what I want in every store. So I just browsed the windows, didn’t find any, so I just left!!

And it hit me, I was close enough to where my late nana lived…

I drove to the corner of the street and I could see the balcony where I spent endless hours daydreaming of things that never happened. I could hear her voice calling for me to get inside and grab a bite or to check on me. I could almost see all snippets from my childhood passing by. My eyes were filled with tears because I realized I never really appreciated those days as I should have, and I really missed her even more.

An old man saw me in my car with my eyes lingering on the balcony; apparently, he took his time watching me as I took mine reminiscing. My car was stopped due to traffic the entire time and I was counting that people would most likely honk my ears out when the cars started moving, but that man smiled at me and signaled that the cars ahead of me started moving! I smiled back with gratitude, and drove by…

I wish I had keys to the place, yet somehow I think it’s better that I don’t; I guess the only way I could hold on to the warmth and love I had behind those windows was to never get in and see how they turned into emptiness and void. I know her spirit left the place leaving no trace of what has been, so I will just hold on to it in my heart. God, I miss her… Allah yer7amha!

I went home feeling more willing to do my mommy duties than I have been in the past days; I brought lunch, fed the boys, showered them and then invited them to nap next me. I didn’t even feel sleepy, I just felt attracted to the bed in a sense, I lost consciousness for almost four hours – it’s sort of a record!

I am grateful for today… alhamdulilah…

Music IS good for the soul, at least my soul…

2009-12-02T13:43:00.004+02:00

I can’t say it took away all the feelings from yesterday and sent them to oblivion; they’re still inside waiting for a bluer day to haunt me, but until then…

This will ease my soul a bit…

I found it when I learned that it’s the original Portugese version of Shu Bkhaf, to which I’ve been nostalgic since yesterday…

Thank God for music, and THANK GOD it still works for me!!!

Melancholia

2009-12-01T11:10:00.002+02:00

I can’t breathe… not exactly; I mean it just feels like the air is too heavy for my nostrils to inhale it into my lungs and then push it back… it feels like a lot of work…

And my heart feels like a heavy stone sinking all the way to my guts and hurting them…

I’ve been having headaches for God knows how long now; the kind that just doesn’t go away when they’re not banging in my head driving me crazy… and I have been as restless as ever despite my constant fatigue; so I sleep a lot, but thanks to my insomnia, I keep waking up to feel even more depressed and try to sink my depression in my pillow (I need a new pillow!)

Not to mention the mood swings… a minute I am all confident and smiling and alive, the next I just want to shut away the whole world and hate my very own existence, let alone others’… bipolar??

I am grumpy, I am impatient, and I feel like I am aching non stop for no apparent reason…

I think I am depressed!

I mean I’ve been to a doctor because of the fatigue and I had all the tests that would eliminate any potential hormonal imbalance or post-viral infection; the doctor eventually told me it could simply be due to pollution or stress… talk about stress, it’s a lifestyle for me…

I can’t seem to endure any of the things I have supposedly accepted as an inseparable part of my life… I am remembering my anger and re-feeling it, only I am not allowing myself to let it out; it’s trapped in my heart and mind like tears are trapped behind my eyes…

I can’t stand the very people I love, and of course those I resent…

I am tired of my dad’s over protectiveness; it’s suffocating me and making me feel claustrophobic inside my own body! Actually, I am starting to even doubt he’s being this way just for my sake; I think it’s more about what he thinks is best for everyone of us, himself, my sisters, my kids and me… it’s too much weight for me to carry all alone, and it’s unfair!

I am tired of my sisters’ detachment and insensitiveness, which I know is mostly due to my own hyper-sensitiveness; but I just have strong urges of shutting them out for good, like I want to do with all the other annoyances in my life!

I can’t even stand being with my boys at all these days; they’re a very painful reminder of all my issues and the responsibilities burdening me day and night. I kind of hate myself for being a mother, such a mother!

And my mom is not giving me a break asalways, only this time I really want nothing to do with her, and as horrible as it makes me sound, I mean it, and I sincerely wish it would come true, like we could stop talking forever… only I trust she’d never let go!

I literally thought of packing the things I need along with my sorrows and disappointments and just leave home for good, and perhaps even leave my boys; I can’t do it on my own with them. Writing this, I sort of hate myself, but I am feeling like I am no longer capable of being anything useful to anyone. I don’t feel like I have it in me to give, or to want to give for that matter. I don’t want to take either; I just want to be left alone. We Kaman, it’s not exactly realistic thinking to runaway; I will be found, unless I change my job, my car and God knows what else – I haven’t exactly thought this through…

The interesting part is that I don’t even show such clear signs of struggle when people talk to me. My friend was like “manty konty kowayessa akher marra shoftek”, which was right in the midst of all this mess; thing is, when I am with friendly company, all this distress is on hold until I step back to my world and deal with all the nakad there.

For the second time in my life, I want to be someone else, only for different reasons. This time I don’t hate who I am, I just resent all the things I have to deal with and all the stresses and pressures. I want to… live? At least without worrying about consequences and without feeling crippled and pulled down by all the things I should and shouldn’t do. I feel like I am locked in a prison without bars or parameters, yet so real and limiting. And the really painful part is that I feel like I choose to succumb to this prison most of the time, either out of obligation, or fear of consequences.

I am pathetic!

And I have no idea how to remedy all this. I don’t believe any therapy could possibly help; at least not with my current status, and I have no idea how to change that. All I know is that I can feel my spirit sinking and I am too tired to even try to float until this passes, I feel like drowning but I don’t have the courage to let go.

And no, I am not suicidal so I don’t want people talking me out of taking my own life; I just know I don’t have it in me and I am not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse!

I hate how depressing this post is, especially when I am still aware of the little things that give my life a meaning, which I can take forever to list them, yet they fail to bring my soul comfort and ease.

I am listening to Bocelli, hoping his strong and tender voice would wrap my spirit and take away all the aching, but it is making me feel sadder, and the air is still feeling heavier…

smile

2009-11-26T15:11:00.005+02:00

It was an unexpected surprise…

It was dark, and I couldn’t see its color…

I kissed and hugged Rasha for giving me such a surprise that made me cheer that way…

I put it on my dashboard all the way to Alex, and I kept glancing at it while driving…

I kept smiling because of all the memories and thoughts that came to mind just because of such little pretty thing...

I arrived home, I unpacked, I changed, I asked mom for something to put it in, but she ignored me and kept asking who got it instead; it made me sort of angry so I decided not to answer…

Beem kept holding on to me wanting me to hug him to sleep… I fell asleep too and forget about my little beauty...

Today, I ran to where I had left it and I was relieved to see it still in good shape, I emptied a vase where mama kept some of her karakeeb, washed it, et voila…

I am not usually a big fan of orange and yellow, but those pastel shades on this particular tulip look amazing, it’s such a delight to keep looking at it…

Thank you ya Roosh, you made sure there would be something to cheer me up every time my mood goes down, at least until it wilts… (mesh hannaked 3aleiki wa2ollek how it will feel when that happens)

Me is happy for now :)

Not again!!

2009-11-24T13:59:00.002+02:00

“… the profoundest changes take place within a very reduced time frame. When we least expect it, life sets us a challenge to test our courage and willingness to change; at such a moment, there is no point in pretending that nothing has happened or in saying that we are not yet ready.

The challenge will not wait. Life does not look back. A week is more than enough time for us to decide whether or not to accept our destiny”

- Paulo Coelho' Author's Note from The Devil and Miss Prym

That’s what I am so afraid of, and it stared me right in the eye when I was trying to distract myself by reading!

I don’t hate change, I am rarely ever scared of it or unwilling to do it, on the contrary, I throw myself right into it, and that scares me. The possibility that the change could be to the worse or that it would bring out the worst in me is what terrifies me.

Uff ba2a! we kaman I barely know who I am and what I want for it to change already, mesh 3ayza al3ab khalas! Being a Gemini can get really exhausting!

Mesh 3arfa!

2009-11-23T23:09:00.003+02:00

I sat there all alone pretending to be someone else…

I had a strong urge to be anyone but myself if I was to sit and relive those memories in order to write about them; it felt like it would be easier to remember bad things as if they happened to someone else…

But I couldn’t…

I referred to each memory as mine, and every time I came close to digging it all up, I found myself revisiting recent memories that only occurred because of old ones…

And it kept hitting me that right there, as different as I looked, I was still the same person from whom I was running away… yes, I’ve changed a bit, inside and out, but change does not make you a different person…

I felt alone.

I looked around me, took deep breaths, and tried to write it down, but I kept getting stuck at the same point…

Do you ever go back to a turning point in your life and wonder if you chose the road not taken? Usually, when I do that, it’s does not bring regret or a futile wish that time would go back so that I’d redo things differently… but today it felt like it, it was overwhelming, and my mind kept resisting my attempts to remember…

I tried and I tired, and each time my mind resisted even more stubbornly…

It scared me that I just couldn’t do what I planned on doing… I could see how my mind tried every defense mechanism it knows and it scared me because it only meant something hurts in there and I was getting closer, and worse, I am not ready to feel that kind of pain…

I am the kind who would pour salt on old wounds just to make sure they’re dead tissue and they no longer hurt, but today, I felt too overwhelmed, I felt too alone to handle it on my own and I just found myself letting them be and I decided to distract myself…

After spending around an hour and a half in my own mind, I decided to leave my Pandora’s box unopened for a few more days, and I got in my car…

I drove in the direction of Kattameya road because I didn’t want traffic. I drove and I drove, and I let music play…

I made it until 90 kilometers to Sues and then I started looking for a u-turn, not because I wanted to go home, but rather because I needed to be home before 10 if I am to avoid an unnecessary fight with my dad…

This played…

"انت تمل، و راسي يدور... تقوم تفل، و بحالي دور... دموعي تكل، تعدي بحور... و انت بعيـــــد"

Feels like I’ve always been stuck there, always will be, I can see it, smell it, and feel it… and it hurts... and ana kaman bammel… I am tired and bored from that feeling I get when I am unable to let my thoughts out…

I feel crippled… paralyzed…

I am not sad; I am just utterly confused and lost in my own thoughts and attempts to figure myself out… I am not in peace with myself and it’s driving me mad…

I am waiting for my mood to change; this is when being moody is a blessing…

Something I just have to blurt out!!

2009-11-17T22:34:00.000+02:00

Ok, I can understand if you’re an atheist…

I can also understand if you’re agnostic…

I can even try and tolerate your endless obscene and crude remarks on almost everything…

I just can’t take the condescending attitude or how offensive you get when you describe those things you dislike…

Seriously! Why the hell offend the very same things you accuse of being offensive!!! I mean, hello, you’re doing exactly the very same thing you resent and reject; don’t you accuse all religions and those who practice them of judging you, labeling you, and cursing you? Whatever makes you think you’re any better than them in your own eye?

News flash, YOU’RE NOT!

You’re merely someone who couldn’t fit anywhere and decided to make a world for you and those who feel exactly like you! If it had just stoped there, I’d completely respect it; hell, I’d start my own world with my own beliefs and invite people who are like me to join too…

But don’t offend, don’t judge and don’t curse anything or anyone just because you don’t fit or you don’t understand… yes, we all hate feeling rejected or labeled, that’s why I understand that you’re angry…

You don’t need to offend me because I happen to believe, you shouldn’t assume my scarf covers a brainless scull just because I chose to practice that little… And you simply can’t assume that I am dumb because I pretend not to understand the sex jokes and give you the satisfaction of seeing the disgust on my face…

And don’t think I don’t understand your sick words, I just choose to pretend like I never heard them before because it’s easier than throwing up all over your twisted notions!!

I would have really tried to understand and even respected all the things you are, if only you had tried, just tried to show a little understanding of who I am and the things I believe in…

So there is another side to the coin you so much dislike, and guess what, you’re on it!

(and I didn’t offend, at least not as tastelessly!!!)

P.S. this is addressed to all the idiots who go about publishing their garbage of so called free opinions offending everyone and giving a bad name to those who share their beliefs!! It is not against any belief or practice, at least not those who do not offend others.

It’s just… pathetic!

2009-11-14T18:05:00.006+02:00

Back in my school days, whenever I traveled abroad with my family, I used to buy those little pins with flags on them (I wonder where those are!!). They looked cute and I must say, something about a flag is just… captivating, like it holds the entire culture of a country in it!

A few years later, when I joined a Canadian college, I used to have the Canadian flag on my backpack, until my dad saw it and gave me a long lecture about belonging to no country other than mine. He went on and on about how people in the states put their country’s flag right outside their doors and that I do not have to do the same, but neither should I ever bear a different country’s flag.

Back then, he made sense even though I did not pin the Canadian flag to my backpack to represent anything more than just my admiration to the country I’ve visited. To avoid any futile arguments about my patriotic opinions, I just replaced that pin with another of my college’s badge, after all, that was the college I belonged to whether he liked it or not.

Oh, and I tried to find a cute little pin with Egypt’s flag, but I found none!

***
Around a year ago, one of the managers in the Kuwaiti company where I work decided he wanted a small sized Egyptian flag to put it on his desk back in Kuwait along with the rest of the flags of countries where the company has business. He sent me an email asking me if we had any at our Egypt branch, I said we didn’t, so he asked me to send for around ten small flags, for our office as well as the head office. Moreover, he also asked me to get a bigger flag similar to the size of the Kuwaiti flag he’d send, so that both would be hung in our company here in Egypt.

I did not find any of good enough quality to be measured against the other flags I’ve seen. I’ve been told I could go to Faggala and check a bigger variety or have one custom made, but I was too busy to do it then! I asked friends who work in governmental authorities about the ones they put on ministers’ desks or at the doors of ministry buildings, but no one gave me any useful information. Eventually, I gave up and lost interest and so have my boss.

***
I see Egyptian flags everywhere! With all sizes and all qualities, simply every freakin' where!!!

Seriously!!

The match, screw it, I mean, what is the point of winning a silly match? What kind of advancement are we as a country and its people achieving here? Will our educational systems be any better? Will we be doing a better job on containing the epidemic flu that is closing all our schools? Oh and about H1N1 flu, how come the Minister of Health (beroo7 Ommoh) did not have any useful announcements about crowd management!! Wala el gomhoor el reyady 3ando wa3y se7y kafy, ya sheikh bala waksa!!

***

I will say it and I will not care about how many people will resent me for it… I wish Egypt loses this match. I think we Egyptians need to realize that there are more important things we need to win other than a meaningless match. We need to develop better behaviors and attitudes in order to lead better lives, and honestly, I think winning this match will close our eyes even further to the fact that WE NEED TO BE BETTER IN OTHER THINGS!! Not to mention the traffic madness and the accidents that WILL happen like the last time Egypt won the stupid African cup!

Wel ahbal elly ba3et email saying that he’s happy we’re all uniting for this, yala roo7 egry el3ab be3eed!! Maho men khebetna!! We kaman we are emotional people, benetlam we ne unite fel kheiba, 3ady, heya awel marra ya3ne, bas sa3et el gadd, when our union is needed for something useful, we only throw charity parties for the cause but do nothing useful, so etwekes!! (he’s the same guy who urged his fellow Egyptians to show their compassion to the President for the loss of his grandchild, Alllah yer7amoh… 3ayel 7o2na, we monafeq keda we te7esso maloosh substance!!)

I am sorry fellow Egyptians and soccer fans, we do not deserve that kind of victory when we’re so oblivious of our failures in every other aspect of our social and cultural life, hell, in how we deal with one another!

***

I want to go to my dad and explain to him that I’d rather carry the Canadian flag than the Egyptian flag because I learned my most useful lessons during college from Canadian professors, not Egyptian ones. I want to sadly admit to him that the only reason I belong to this country is because he does. He’s the one who paid for my education, my health care, and every privilege and luxury I enjoyed, so I belong to him, and if it means I belong to this country for his sake, then I do.

I don’t hate Egypt; I love it… ok, it’s a classic love/hate relationship like Will calls it. Egypt is like the mother who constantly abuses and insults me and expects me to forever love her because it’s my duty. Egypt is like the mother who never showed sincere care or did anything of value contributing to my wellbeing and development, yet expects me to acknowledge her non-existing role in making me who I am!

Egypt is the mother I could never bring myself to love or honor simply because I refuse to be an abuse victim, yet my good upbringing prevents me from showing my dislike and discontentment to others. It’s because of my upbringing that I find myself speaking with pride whenever I am asked where I am from, although it was never Egypt who gave me reasons to be proud, it was always my father.

***

So tomorrow, I might go and buy that flag after all, regardless of the score of the match because to me, it was never about a silly match, it is about something more profound than that, something I still hope I could find and feel for this country because I can’t feel it for any other.

Fallen

2009-11-11T13:22:00.005+02:00

I admit, I was righteous, a tight ass according to many, but in my righteousness I found my comfort. Even in my constant struggle to live up to my own high standards, ~~I enjoyed~~ my pride enjoyed winning every ethical challenge.

In my own ~~utopia~~ oblivion, I always believed that the one thing I should always do is what I think is right; I believed in the notion of “wrong is wrong, right is right” religiously; I never accepted any justification for wrong and I never thought people would disagree on what’s right. After being slapped around, I learned to tolerate wrong from people and have it in me to see their “false” justifications, but never from myself... condescending perhaps, but in the most tolerant way I knew!

This was how I nourished my pride; this was also how I kept my faith. I always believed that if I could live up to those standards with every challenge, I would definitely have it in me to accept all my misfortunes and I would be able to pray for God’s mercy in times of crisis. This was how I managed to be patient, strong, and confident; I used my pride and my stubbornness to hold on to who I thought I was, and when everything fell from around me, I held on even more tightly and stubbornly.

Until today.

All my righteous notions and phrases haunted me so mercilessly. Today, I learned the hard way that sometimes what I should do, is not what I think is right. I saw first hand how what I should do, as not-right/wrong as it is, is still justified and somehow right! I was shocked and hurt and confused and… hurt, majorly hurt.

Today, stretching the truth to its maximum was not a lie. Today, the thing I took pride in the most, my truthfulness, was compromised because that was what I honestly believed I should do. I stretched the truth because that was what I should do for the one I love the most. I could not look him in the eye and beg him to spare me because it would have been selfish of me to serve my pride over him… meh, I guess I am too proud to feel selfish anyway.

I shivered inside out… and I felt cold inside out… and I could see my surrounding blurry doing as I was told. I tried to block the feeling and its humiliation by remembering all the reasons and all the justifications; I held on -as tight as I know how- to the context that brought me there as the words rigidly got out of my mouth. I did it when in my heart I knew I will never look at myself in the mirror and feel as proud... and it still hurts too much that I will be too ashamed to ask my God to bless and protect me and those I love, because today I took it on my own to do so, and I know I am not half as strong as I ask my God to be for me.

“some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall”

I just wish I fell… I would like to believe that if it were really my choice and if it were only me who’d deal with consequences, I would have chosen to fall.

Today was a bad day for me, for my stupid notions and my foolish foolish pride. Today, I only felt fear and shame, and that was a worse fall.

Sleep sleep sleep, bye bye insomnia!

2009-11-07T22:28:00.001+02:00

All through the past two weeks I’ve been having some serious sleep encounters, as in I fall asleep almost everywhere, which is my baby sister’s thing actually!! Coffee no longer works, I drink about three huge mugs a day, black, no sugar, and yet I can’t seem to keep my eyes opened, not even while driving, ME!!!

After the second time I fell asleep while driving, I decided to see a doctor. I hate how doctors laugh at me when I speak of my eccentricities as if they were normal. Yes, I barely sleep 4 hours straight a day, and I wake up in the middle of the night having serious troubles falling back to sleep; hence insomniac. Always have and I think I have gotten used to it by now, this is not a change I would welcome actually!!

Apparently, my body has a different agenda! I lose focus; I get dizzy, and eventually fall asleep. My body has decided my insomnia days are over and now I don’t even sleep like normal people, I sleep all the freakin time and I hate it!!

I tried to act all stubborn and stay up late without even a nap that weekend and the punishment was horrible; I couldn’t lift my head off the pillow for the next 14 hours. I had a nasty migraine as if an iron fist was squeezing all the brain cells out of my scull, and when I eventually got out of bed I almost didn’t recognize my mirror image; I was extremely pale and fuzzy, I looked more like a zombie!

So yes, I am surrendering to all the sleep; today I woke up at 10am after sleeping at 1am, only to go for a long nap at 5pm and wake up at 9!!! And I know I will probably be in bed within an hour at most!!!

I sort of have an identity crisis!! If this lasts, I will change my name from insomniac to sleepy head! Oh insomnia, I will miss you.

P.s. The reason I have not been posting is basically because I am either asleep or out of focus most of the time :(

Angry Mode Alert… and time to kick some a**

2009-10-27T12:34:00.002+02:00

I am so pissed off on so many levels to the extent that I am screaming in my head with obscene words I am not even sure I understand!!

I could write about five posts at least discussing each –different- reason behind that anger and ranting nonstop about how things are just not freakin’ right! But I am too angry to be coherent…

Now dear blog readers, I need more than your moral support (which I always ALWAYS appreciate) on this one… if anyone who reads this happens to work in the AUC, or knows someone who works there and has the right contacts to make sure I’m heard , please contact me on my email; in case my email is not clear on my blogger ID page, it is myoblivia@gmail.com.

Thanks.

Wrapped within a jazzy tune!

2009-10-24T01:08:00.004+02:00

Looking through the window and seeing all those marshmallow clouds around me, I wrapped my shawl around me as jazz tunes tickled all my senses…

It was the perfect setting; finishing up a cup of coffee as my favorite lindt melted in my mouth after a brief chat with the friendly flight attendant, me alone on that row, and Ella and Louis singing… that was when it hit me…

I finally felt that warm fuzzy feeling I was missing most of my trip…

I felt gratitude for it all, I felt the kind of happy I couldn’t feel earlier when I was burdened by all the things that haunted my soul!

The end of my trip did not feel sad like endings are mostly known to be; mine was satisfying.

It all fell into place as the plane slowly came closer to the ground, and I could see the tiny little details through the cotton-candy clouds, I was reminded of my love for details and I remembered those particular ones that made me smile during my trip…

And all of a sudden, it felt like home!

Oh details, I just love you; you make my life!! In you, my true happy moments belong and I am forever grateful that I can see you, even if at the end!

My sweet sweet uncle!!

2009-10-14T07:26:00.005+02:00

Late at night after everyone went to bed…

Him: so how are you?
Me: *smiling* I am fine alhamdulilah
Him: and what are your plans?
Me: *babbled on an on about what I plan on doing with my “career” for about 10 whole minutes*
Him: *in a calm tone* I was not asking about your career, I was asking about your personal life
Me: *smiling confusingly*
Him: *almost laughing and using random arm gestures* no one asked me to talk to you about anything I promise…
Me: *interrupting* Khalo, I will get me some water because I’m thirsty and I’ll be back
Him: *laughing* 3ashan tebbala3y kalamy??
Me: Abadan wallahy, bas 3atshana we shaklak 3ayez tetkallem we tenashefly ree2y!

After I got my water…

Me: I have no plans for my personal life… I go to work, I go home spend time with my boys, go out with friends occasionally, the routine family activities and that’s it!
Him: you don’t have plans for what’s next, I mean you don’t want to get married again???
Me: *almost choking on my water* khalo, marriage is not something I’d look forward to
Him: leeh, you’re young, you have your life ahead of you, mat2oleeesh et3a2adti!
Me: *laughing* la2 mat3a2adtesh, bas at this point of my life, I have realized that I never lived for me, and I am also aware that I have two kids of whom I have take care, and between them and myself, I don’t have the time or the energy to work on a relationship, and marriage is just HARD!
Him: it is, but again, you should not be against the concept…
Me: I didn’t exactly say I was against it (I couldn’t tell him what I thought point blank, he would seizure if I do), but let’s look at it from a realistic perspective… marriage is not an easy thing, and we’re a generation of spoilt brats who barely get what marriage really is; I’ve been in an out and I still haven’t figured it out!! Aaand don’t forget, I already have two amazing boys, and I do not want to have any more kids… so marriage is not exactly something I would want!
Him: da sa7ee7, bas bardu you should not rule it out!
Me: *smiling bekhabasa* enta gayebly 3arees walla eh???
Him: *smiling in a way I couldn’t really tell* ya3ne, perhaps I might be of help in that department!
Me: ok, if you find someone whom you think is good enough for me, tell him you have a niece who’s already divorced with two boys, who does not want to have any more kids, who has quite the strong character and is extremely stubborn, she's also opinionated and takes pride to an unhealthy extreme, and finally, she is very particular and picky about everything… and to top it all, she has serious spending issues mostly because she does not realize how much she spends because she doesn’t know how to work numbers in her head… law fedel interested, I’d like to meet him; however, I’m sure that would pretty much scare him off
Him: *looking at me awy* what you said is not all bad, don’t say it like they’re bad things… ya3ne except for the crazy-buying syndrome, which I have too, and apparently it’s genetic!
Me: I never said they were bad things, but they’re who I am and I know it’s a hard thing for a man in our culture to accept... and I really don’t think there are enough men who are good enough for me, as in have it in them to make me happy… oh, tell him also that I have too much ego and think very highly of myself, obviously!!!
Him: ya insomniac, feh nas kowayesa… you can’t rule out the possibility 3ashan you had a bad experience!
Me: ya khalo I know… I just don’t believe en el nas el kowayesa dool keteer, and given how few they are, the possibility of finding among them someone who’d take me the way that I am and be compatible with me are pretty slim, so again, to want to get married again does not make sense if the chances of finding my definition of “good enough candidate” are that slim!
Him: *thinking and nodding*ana fahmek… ana bas 3ayez attamen en you’re moving on and that you have it in you to enjoy your life to the fullest and not let your previous experience ruin any potential chances in your future
Me: *smiling* don’t worry; I’ll try to keep an open mind! But let me tell you this, I don’t need a man or that kind of relationship to live my life to the fullest… I have two amazing boys who need a lot of work, and in sha2 Allah it will be rewarding… and I have good friends who provide me with the company and support I need to survive… and I have a kindhearted dysfunctional family whom I know would stand by my side when I really need it…
Him: *laughing*
Me: sorry about that last part, but you know how we all are!
Him: *nodding* el mohem eny mabsoot enny shayfek kowayessa we 3arfa en mesh de akher el denya!
Me: *smiling so hard and having strong urges to give him a gratitude hug, but surrendering to my inability to show this kind of affection* ana mabsoota enak mabsoot… mesh hatnam ba2a, enta hates7a badry el mafrood (that was my way of showing concern, ya 3eini ya khalo!)
Him: *standing up* ah, yalla tesba7y 3ala kheir…
Me: *standing up and walking behind him* wenta men ahloh

Like I said, my sweet sweet uncle!!!

It’s just hard to explain…

2009-10-11T06:47:00.003+02:00

What is happiness?

Is it laughing your heart out? Is it your face blushing with the warmth of those around you? Is it smiling from ear to ear with bright and shiny eyes? Is it contentment and gratitude for everything you have?

I always thought the above were signs of happiness…

Then what is missing? What the hell is wrong with me?

I am laughing my heart out most of the time, my cheeks are all red and my eyes are all shiny and I am growing dimples because of all the smiling! I keep whispering to myself “alhamdulilah” because of how everything just happens!!

But I feel rather sad!!

The kind of sad that creeps inside your heart and makes it afraid of beating!!

It makes me angry at myself for not being able to enjoy all the blessings.

Yes, I am doing my best to overlook that feeling and live each and every moment to the fullest; I literally drag my body to every single experience so that my mind wouldn’t take over with that unexplainable melancholy. But even then, in the midst of my so called “happiness”, I just don’t feel happy!

I am extremely vulnerable to all the little inconveniences, the ones that I know should never bother me, the ones I know didn’t bother me much before because I can always justify them. Now, I just see them loud and clear and I find my face shrinking with disgust!

I try to analyze my moods according to all the colors I buy, but it’s really hard; I keep choosing purple, aquamarine, blue, and then I have strong brown and beige urges, but then I try to focus on pink and coral shades because they bring out my natural blush! When I think of it, I realize I am only choosing those colors because purple matches my new shoes, aquamarine is the closest shade to green that’s not green, and I need to have green to get over my dislike of it, blue, I am just missing blue; it’s familiar, and no matter what I do, I never have enough brown and beige; like I do not belong to earth that way, as for the pink and coral shades, I am just living up to what looks good on me!!

But what is it do I want??? It’s not just about the colors; it’s about everything else I pick!!

Which color? Which mood? Which activity? I find myself choosing everything for a reason, but I never really do anything just because of the utter urge!!

Have I become addicted to sadness? Have I gotten used to resentfulness of all the things I don’t like?

Right now, I have some hole inside my heart aching because I can’t stand certain things that just suffocate me. I wish I could just scream them out and let them fester somewhere else other than my heart, but I am too aware of the potential and unnecessary damage it would cause, so I am taking the chances of harbouring them! I am not even sure I will feel better if I do otherwise.

I found out a couple of things about me though… I am a control freak, at least inside my own head; I want things done in a certain way and I get really angry when they’re done differently even when I don’t show it, and to make it worse, I am usually right, which adds up to my frustration. I also have serious confrontation issues; I’d rather be passive aggressive than point out my dissatisfaction, sometimes out of being considerate to others and sometimes just because I am aware of the futility of acting on my anger!

Speaking of anger, one of the main reasons why I’m angry is that I don’t get why it’s just me who sees all those inconveniences and get annoyed by them the way I do! I hate how my parents made me that way, I am really angry at them for exerting that much effort to teach me to be aware of my behavior so that I would not offend others! I am angry because I am offended by certain people acting on their rather dumb and extreme impulses while I have to hold back my opinions about that because God forbid my opinion would make them uncomfortable!!

Perhaps some day I will just say it and walk out without ever having to look back, just like how I no longer feel a thing about the x! I guess it’s part of who I am; either I care too much or I just give up and replace that built up repressed resentment with indifference, regardless of the person and how close they might be to me!! It’s how I mend my broken heart and my big disappointments; and the scary thing is that I know I would do it with anyone, even my own babies if they ever push that far!!

What kind of person is that who just punishes people by banishing them outside of her existence instead of dealing and talking things through???

I guess the kind who does not pretend to feel things she doesn’t feel, and find it hard to express her gratitude in words, and the kind who has it in her to leave her own babies to go on a much needed vacation.

I am tired of all the judgmental questions. It hurts that my feelings and my pain are taken for granted the way they are just because I guard them so very carefully with all the smiles and laughter and sarcastic comments. It hurts to be viewed as the cold-hearted-ice-bitch I know I'm not but would never admit to it. It hurts to be that sensitive and have people think of me as the other extreme, and it hurts even more that I force myself to fit into the role of that other extreme just to preserve my pride!

It took me two pages of rambling to get a big part of it out… there is more, but like I said, it’s just hard to explain.

P.S. I may not be feeling the kind of happy I wish I’d feel, but I am surely having fun, aside from all the enforced guilt… and I am grateful, for everything… alhamdulilah.

The Futility of the Dance!!

2009-09-28T13:57:00.007+02:00

I have high hopes when it comes to people, but when it comes to relationships, especially romantic ones, I am extremely cynical.

After all, I have every right to be, having survived my own romantic relationship that led to marriage, which led to infidelity, which led to humiliation and divorce. I’d like the rest of my life to be of less drama thank you very much.

So to go by, I decided on a list of things to help me survive whatever the years will throw at me… here’s a sample

Love is tricky; you slip in fast, it fills the eye and the heart leaving the mind completely misled. Most tragically, it fades, it always fades, either from your heart or from the other person’s leaving you either unhappily honoring a commitment you promised to maintain, feeling disregarded by someone who wants to honor his/her commitment, or cheating (one way or the other) or being cheated upon.

Before you tell me I am being too hard and bitter on love, walk a mile in my shoes…

I have enough friends in relationships (marriage and/or otherwise), most of which are considering/trying to get out of them!!! And the ones who are keeping the façade of contentment are very obviously trying to convince themselves that they’re facing the bumps on their roads and that this is what relationships are like!! I really wish for the latter that they get through their bumps and find the happiness for which they are searching, I honestly do.

Having heard my share of stories, I have noticed how differently men and women see things; I get to hear the guy’s take and I get to hear the girl’s take and I almost seizure every time I find myself seeing how it’s all a communication problem due to the male/female different perceptions.

And no, I am not wiser than my fellow females, I am just detached from the problems having to hear about them rather than live them. When a male friend tells me his side of the story where his significant other is behaving a way close enough to what I would have done had I been in her place, I tell him how she got there and why she’s acting that way, I say it calmly after I acknowledge his side of the story and confirm that his point is valid!

That’s when my friend would say I am the wisest woman he had met, only what he doesn’t know is that I get to be that wise because I am not investing my emotions on him, I get to be that calm and understanding and let myself see his side because my love and care for him are not the kind that would make me hurt when he doesn’t see mine, while his significant other is blinded by the one thing that makes her want to be with him, her love to him!!! And to complicate things further, being detached doesn't mean you have a solution because in relationships, the only people who can actually make change are the couple themselves!! The irony!

This makes me think that the way couples understand a relationship, at least here in Egypt, they would always need a couples counselor who would constantly referee their relationship and advocate their points of view to one another!! Does anyone see how pathetic that is, or is it just me???

I have always thought of relationships to be like a dance a couple perfect over time; when one of them moves forward, the other knows that it’s their time to move backwards to give them the needed space. Yes, in the learning process, they will step on each other’s toes and probably get hurt from time to time, but the idea of them needing constant coaching is just… scary!

It’s exactly like this: my partner steps on my toe while moving forward, my natural instinct would be telling him he did and at the same time prepare myself that he might accidentally do it again in his attempts to master the moves!! But no one excuses himself from the dance when such an incident happens to go tell the dancing coach “my partner just stepped on my foot!”

I am not denying the need for guidance; I just resent the idea of having to be eternally dependant on it. Actually, truth is, very few people acknowledge their need for initial guidance; as far as each and everyone of us is concerned, we all know best and we don’t need anyone’s help, which is even sadder! Perhaps it’s the reason why we needed that kind of guidance to begin with - damn arrogance!

So to sum this up, in a relationship, being in love does not mean you were born a dancer! There’s a lot to learn about your partner, a lot more to learn about yourself and your ability to adjust and compromise things. Do you know the things you’re capable of doing? Do you know your deal breakers? I seriously doubt any of us knows all of those, it’s a trial-and-error process and sadly you only get to find a few with every failed attempt of a relationship!

I just realized that I have run out of things to say without actually making a point! Truth is, I have none!!! I was just ranting about my constant disillusion at relationships and talking myself out of any future ones because I just don’t have any toes left for a blind fool to step on them!!

*I got the photo off the web some time ago, so I don't exactly remember the photo credits!

A dream-induced nostalgia!

2009-09-26T23:38:00.001+02:00

Days ago, I had a dream, a strange one…

I was in the art therapy studio, knowing that Dr. M had passed away, I don’t exactly remember if there were other people, but I was very close to the wall that had his self portraits and none of them was there!

I kept touching the bare walls as I fought to hold back my tears… I wanted to cry so badly…

I woke up feeling extremely down and depressed…

The same day I visited an old friend from my previous job at her home… she had a big portrait of our late boss S, the one I loved and respected.

I kept staring at the old photo with her skin revealing that it was taken when she was younger than when I’ve known her… and I forced the words to come to my mouth “Allah yer7amek ya S” then I paused and said “wa7shany awy!”

Today, I was in downtown running a government related errand. While waiting for the driver to pick me up, I decided to walk around; I was in my sneakers and the weather was nice. I kept walking from one random street to the other until I stopped to read the name of the street - “شارع شمبليون”… I stopped, looked across the street to the far extension on its other side and realized that I was a few blocks away from the Art Therapy Center. I stood there for a while as if I was lost, my eyes had tears and my heart felt heavy, then I said “Allah yer7amak ya Dr. M” and got on the sidewalk and continued walking towards Tahrir Square.

Other than that, I had a good day. Alhamdulilah.

I was off to bed, and I suddenly remembered all that and had the strong urge to write about it, so there!

Not exactly random… as incoherent as it may seem!

2009-09-13T01:08:00.003+02:00

In the movies, the scene about the moment where events had escalated to its peak would keep haunting the character over and over making them clench and close their eyes in dismay.

It’s not like that. I mean, the moment, that moment haunts me all right, but it only takes a while until I am over the state of shock, or you know, sort of used to it.

Then, in my calmer moods, I get the mysterious feeling of discomfort that can only be explained by flashes of less significant moments haunting me. The kind of moments that would look completely neutral and harmless if you take them out of context; however, if you see the context and consider my character, they would make a whole lot sense on why I feel that way, at least to me!

-----

The subtle yet very disturbing moments would be like how I hate climbing the stairs, how I keep trying to look away, how I can never find those words, or how I just hate driving home, in my car alone with my own thoughts… how in all those moments I feel lonely and all sorts of other things...

One of the strong moments was when I closed my eyes hoping that I’d see clearly, just like that girl; and in the clarity of the moment, all I saw was that little girl who used to close her eyes hoping people wouldn’t be able to see her just like she couldn’t see them with her eyes closed. A tear fell, and I had no words to explain why, I honestly don’t know!

*deep breath in, and out*

-----

“just say what’s on your mind, don’t try to find the right words”
“I can’t! forget about the right words, I can’t find any!”
“I’m trying to help you open up”
“I don’t open up easily”
“exactly…”
“I can’t, I just don’t know how”

I may babble a lot, but I never really do open up. I really didn’t believe it when it was told to me a million times before, but it’s a pattern that everyone seems to identify while I live in my own denial!

-----

The moments come back one more time, and I find myself trying to explain my own actions to myself; it's really hard to bullshit a bullshitter!

Most of it boils down to one thing – I am discovering the very things other people take for granted on daily basis! It’s not good because they keep taking their toll on me as I keep overanalyzing in my endless attempts to understand.

How do people take those things for granted? And is it a good thing or a bad thing that they still come to me as surprise?

-----

I’ve got most of it figured out, why I can’t seem to be able to open up. It comes down to two main reasons; one, I still think that what’s inside me is not to be spoken, rather to be felt and understood without me having to find words that would describe it. Two, the one person to whom I have opened up the most has majorly let me down.

Did I ever really open up? I must have at least thought I did! Actually, at this point I realize I never really loved him, I just thought I did; of course now I am not even sure I believe in that L word much!

-----

If love is a variable, an ever changing one, and if marriages don’t exactly work the way we think they do, then what the hell is the point of all this? Why do we get attracted to that person, or enjoy being with the other, if it all ends up down the drain eventually?

I don’t see myself opening up enough to anyone to either fall in love or get married. I’ve tried both and failed miserably. I open up to friends so easily; not exactly with every single little thing, but at least I do open up easier that I do any other way.

-----

Oh oh oh, another piece to the puzzle, I mistook my pseudo opening up for love, and accordingly got married, which makes even more sense why I wouldn’t let my guard down that way again, lest I get confused and lose my way again.

-----

“she has to open up and let her guard down, and allow me to love her” that phrase just makes me laugh, sort of bitterly, but it’s a laugh nonetheless! It makes me feel safe that she will never be me.

It also makes me safe not knowing how exactly he’d have to be, it feel safe how no one feels like him, I’ll freak the day someone feels right!

Ok, like Sandra Bullock cast a spell in Practical Magic so that she’d never fall in love and get her heart broken, I’ll cast mine – he will be able to know and understand those things I never manage to say; he will be the only one who’d know how to take away all the subtle discomfort I constantly feel.

-----

“how did you get to be so cynical?”
“I’ve been alive for a while now”
“well, I’ve been alive a little bit longer than you have, but I don’t seem to be that cynical! it would drive me crazy!”
“you’re saying that my cynicism drives you crazy?”
“no, I am just trying to understand”
“I guess it just suits me”
“well then, cynical doesn’t suit me all the way; I really have no idea what suits me best, but I know I can’t get that committed to cynicism”

I hate admitting it, I sort of miss him (he who can read my mind like no other), but I don’t want him to ever find me because I know he can’t promise me the happily-ever-after I so sadly still believe in under those layers of my pseudo cynicism. I can’t have him tell me the L word and make me believe in its power again when I know none of it would ever last.

Why can’t cynicism work for me too?!

-----

Time to get some restless sleep.

Friend of Foe?

2009-09-06T14:01:00.001+02:00

Do I see the good in people because it's actually there or just because I desperately want to see it?

And by seeing what could be fake-good, am I setting my hopes too high only to fall after disappointment shatters my silly expectations?

It makes me both angry and confused that everyone else views what I see a nice gesture as a twisted and conniving move.

How stupid, delusional, and naïve must I be? Na2a, at this point, I am not unique or kind or even innocent, I must be plain HABLA, not to mention color blind if I fail to see what everyone else sees in bright colors!! I am still not even sure who’s right, those around me or myself?

Could it possibly be that I refuse to see the bad like everyone else because somehow it might diminish my self-worth – people are playing nice because they want something out of me, not because I deserve it…

Or is it simply because I do by people as I like them to do by me!

I can’t believe I still expect the truth from everyone just because I lay my cards as I promise in my most reassuring tone that I will not flee even if it’s not to my liking.

I have honored my word every single time; I have always told the truth, and I kept a straight face and even a compassionate tonee when told things others would reject, and I never showed any signs of dismay.

As hard as it is to believe, that I’d rather be insulted right to my face than be lied to or used without my knowing?

Why the games? Why the possibility of being played? Ufff!

People ask for honesty a lot more often than they can handle it, and more importantly a lot more often than they are willing to give it…

I will never understand people; how could I possibly when I fail to understand myself on daily basis?!

Mesh la3ba!

I don’t want to understand people, I don’t even care about understanding myself anymore; by the time I do I will either be dead or too old to make any use out of it!

But my question still lingers – have people become that cynical or am I that out of place and the world has gone bad a lot more than I can possibly think?!

الحمد لله

2009-09-05T19:27:00.004+02:00

IBHOG came up with the best idea that inspired my long lost Ramadan spirit. For the rules, go to IBHOG’s…

I am grateful for…

- My boys. I remember being pregnant and depressed, I remember my one wish was healthy and smart kids (I have very low tolerance of stupidity), and every time I look at them, I feel grateful because they are much better than I could have ever wished! Beem is loving and tender, and Mocha is witty and hilarious… and they both take a lot more after me than their dad. BLESSED is what I feel when I think of my boys, and sometimes also BURDENED because I don’t know how to cherish such bliss.

- My friends. I have quite the variety, how different their interests and backgrounds are, and yet they have at least one thing in common, me. They make me feel loved and accepted, and the smallest gesture they do touches me too deep, be it a phone call when I am down to cheer me up or a ride when I am too depressed to tell the directions for myself. More importantly, they make it feel like I have well deserved it; they make me feel like I am as a good friend as they are. APPRECIATED and LOVED is what I feel when I think of my friends.

- My Father. He is my wall, knowing that he is there for me gives me a sense of protection I know no one else can give. SAFE is what I feel whenever I think of my father.

- My Job. At first, I thought it was a career dead-end -which it probably is to anyone else-, but now I appreciate the low level of tension, especially with my drama. As overqualified as I think I am for my job (business grad, marketing concentration, yet working in administration), I still have a decent status there, a good pay and benefits, not to mention that I have the nicest boss in the world who makes up for the colleagues who may push the wrong buttons sometimes. LUCKY is what I feel when I think of my job.

- Me. No, I am not being conceited, but I have a lot of good things going for me and I know it; I am relatively healthy, I’ve been told I am smart and good looking, I come from a respectable family, I received good education, and I have decent financial means that spare me worrying about the future. PRIVILEGED and CONTENT is what I feel when I think of all those things God has granted me.

- The wishes I am granted. Every time I kneeled and prayed for something, God has granted it to me; it made me seal every prayer with asking God not to grant me what’s not good for me because I know I don’t know what’s best for me most of the time. THANKFUL, OVERWHELMED, AWED, and CHALLENGED is what I feel every time a prayer is answered.

Those might have seemed like six blessings, but there's a lot more to each, especially the last two; they're ever growing, not to mention too many to count!

الحمد لله

I invite my fellow bloggers on the blog-roll to take the time and do that tag, and those who like to comment as anons as well.

About today…

2009-09-04T12:16:00.002+02:00

I woke up to a call from the x telling me that he was getting ready to come and pick up the boys. Today they go with their nanny to his place and spend the entire day with his family.

I’ve been preparing Beem for that all through the week so that he wouldn’t panic when he realizes that I won’t be joining them like every weekend when we go out, so when he heard me saying the x’s name on the phone, he jumped off bed and woke up mocha saying “es7a ya mocha, pappy gyyy yakhodna, yalla”

For the first time in God knows how long, they showered without the usual fuss about shampoo getting in their eyes!

Beem got dressed peacefully without crying about his favorite t-shirt or the pair of shoes I never let him wear because it’s summer! For the love of God, they let me comb their hair and clip their nails without fighting back!!!!

They left with him a while ago…

I almost cried on my way upstairs.

Now, I had a big plan for myself to keep my busy all day… I planned to clean up the room, have a nice long bath, manicure and pedicure, dress up for the Iftar with my sis and her coworkers, and then go to the Pool with Rasha for a nice night swim.

Instead, I am lying in bed with my laptop, the lighting in my room is busted and so is the window, so I am forced to sit in a dimly lit room, which is not so encouraging to clean up! It feels to hot to take a bath; I want to bask in the a/c instead (at least that is working), I am even too lazy to change back into my pjs!

This will be a long day unless something extraordinary happens!

The Visit – an interesting take on humans, justice and revenge…

2009-09-03T12:21:00.004+02:00

This is more of a movie review with my own reflections on it. I strongly recommend the movie, but I doubt it will be easily found given that it’s a 1960’s production, so you can just read the review and my reflections for easier access!

I watched that movie on TV with my father years ago; I am not even sure how old I was then, all I remember is that my dad was impressed by its production (French, Italian, German co-production) and cast (Anthony Quinn & Ingrid Bergman), and I, I was impressed by the plot, which I found out later it was adapted from a German play. I researched the play, but I found a few critical differences that make me prefer the movie more for the philosophical meaning behind it. The main theme might seem to be revenge (I did mention that I had such awe for the concept of revenge in this post, but to me, it was about a lot more.

I am not exactly sure what made me want to see the movie again. I’ve been nostalgic to decades where I never lived for quite a while, and in that strange sense of nostalgia, I googled the web until I found the torrent and downloaded the movie (it took me 2 weeks to finally have it on my laptop!). I was afraid that I’d find the movie rather dull and cliché after watching it years after I first did. I am glad I was still taken my every word and every gesture.

I will try to be short yet accurate about the details, at least the ones that got to me, but I make no such promises because the movie is too intense for me to shorten it, and well, let’s face it, I have an entire blog that shows how talkative I am!

Oh and you can skip the whole thing and go straight to the part after the second set of dashes (-----), it will probably be the bottom line that would spare you my nonstop babbling.

-----

It starts in a small town in central Europe called Guellen (German for manure), a town that was once wealthy on account of its mine, factory and culture, but facing a serious economic crisis and on the verge of bankruptcy. Everyone in town is in anticipation of the arrival of Klara (Ingrid Bergman), a town girl who left 20 years ago and returned as a wealthy woman to whom they referred Madam Zachanassian. On his way to the train station, the Mayor stops at the town wholesale store owned by Serge Miller (Anthony Quinn) to accompany him. He asks Miller’s wife to stay in the background given that Karla and Serge were romantically involved in the past.

The train stops, Karla descends of it and people receive her with awe as she makes a grand gesture to one of the train crew by giving away a thousand dollars for a non-existing widows’ fund that she asks the man to make. It makes the people of Guellen more optimistic of Karla giving them the money they need for the re-rise of their town.

Awaiting her outside the train station, were three fancy cars, a big one to carry her luggage, a sort of sporty on with two men the Sheriff almost recognized he’d seen before, and one with a panther in a cage where she rides with Serge hanging from her arm.

They drive to a secluded hut on the side of the town and they reminisce a night of romance they once had. He seems very responding to the memories she spoke of, yet she seems rather vague. They part to meet at the town dinner arranged for her honor later that night.

After the entire town well known men (the Mayor, The Sheriff, The Pastor, the Town Teacher, the Town Doctor) introduce their wives to Karla, they sit at a table looking at the glamorous woman whom they had once known as a poor little girl. She gives permission to the Mayor to say his word in form of an order and the man rises and talks about her dad the architect, her mom, and how Karla herself was known for her school-smarts and generosity for she once gave an old widow a sack of potatoes.

After people’s applauses, Karla rises and says that her dad was a drunken worker who refused jobs on buildings too high because he knew he’d fall, that she must have been a bad student for being constantly beaten by the Town Teacher, and finally declares that she had stolen that sack of potatoes and gave it to the widow as rent for her own room where she could sleep with Serge, “the barn was romantic, but the bed was far more comfortable” she said, causing everyone to fall in deadly silence that was only broken by Serge’s embarrassed laugh as he affirmed “yes, far more comfortable” and everyone tries to laugh away the awkwardness.

She then promises the township a million dollars in addition to another million to be divided equally on the people of Guellen on one condition. People cheer and praise her name, until she repeats that she has one condition. The people ask. That’s when a man walks in the hall and declares himself as the Town’s former Judge from when Karla left town as she says that her one condition is “Justice”.

The judge explains that there was a paternity law suit filed by Karla to prove that Serge was the father of her unborn child. He introduces two men in black suits (the ones the Sheriff thought looked familiar) who had previously testified back then that they had slept with Karla after Serge had bribed them to taint her name and prove that she was promiscuous, hence deny his paternity. They acknowledge their false testimony, and then Karla says she was forced out town in shame and forced into a life of prostitution after her baby was taken from her, the crowd falls silent. The judge asks her about her demands, to which she answers “I demand Serge Miller to be dead, I want his life”.

The people go loud as they refuse and accuse her of being a murderer. She walks towards the stairs with her head high and stops as she asks them if they are really willing to refuse that much money. They confirm, she smiles and says that she’d wait, and then she leaves the room.

The next day, the Town Men make a meeting including Serge just to show their support to him. On the other hand, people come to his wholesale store to buy his finest of imported goods on credit, always on credit.

The persistent theme is that you can see Karla gazing from her Hotel balcony at Serge’s shop, driving him and his wife mad. It never helps that people’s expenses go higher and higher on credit, making Serge panic as he starts having doubts about them expecting money for his head quite soon.

The Town Teacher visits Karla in her hotel to advise her that her request will never be answered and that the good hearts of the people of Guellen that he had educated for years will never succumb to her sinister agenda. She replies to him in cold blood that those good hearts were of the same people who drove her as a 17 year old pregnant girl out of the town and labeled her as a whore, then she smiles viciously at him as he challenges her with his life that the people will not condemn Serge Miller.

The day after, the Guellen tribune issues an article saying that it is not for capital punishment. Serge rushes to his friend the Mayor and yells at him saying that that article is nothing but an encouragement for people to go after his head, then rushes to the Sheriff’s office and tells him that he’s afraid the people of Guellen would be after him for the money.

At the same time, Karla’s Panther escapes from its cage and the town goes in chaos as the Sheriff gives the good men of the town guns to pursue the panther. She screams from her hotel window that she wants the panther killed without pain, a bullet between the eyes is what she said would kill it instantly. Gun shots everywhere, gunshots seem to be chasing Serge rather than the panther. He goes to his house where his son says that the shots were after him not the panther, and then his wife tells him it’s better that he leaves so not to endanger them.

He goes to Karla and threatens to kill her. They have a long dialogue on how he betrayed her when he refused to marry her after she got pregnant. He tells her that he loved her but that he had to marry his wife for the money and that she didn’t leave him much of a choice but to make a liar and a whore out of her after she sued him. Their conversation is interrupted by continuous shots, they run to the window to find Serge’s wife shooting the panther dead.

The same night, Serge decides to leave town on the one train that leaved Guellen until the next week. His fellow town people harass him and stop him from leaving town. He falls on the floor in desperation as the train leaves town for he realizes that Karla’s plot was finding its way through.

Different scenes with him commenting on how his friends are wearing new clothes and boots freak him out. It doesn’t make it any easier that days and days later big cars come with more and more goods to be bought on credit, cars belonging to Karla. People buy more goods on credit, including his own wife, who buys a new fridge with glass display for their shop and a new dress.

The Town Council gathers again (this time without Serge) to issue a new law, a law stating that crimes of murder, rape, and misleading of justice would be punished by the deathsentence. The only two people who seem to disagree on the implication behind the new law were the Town Teacher and The Town Doctor.

The Teacher and the Town Doctor go to Karla in her Hotel and ask her to spare Serge and propose to her investments in the Town instead. They offer her to buy the mine and the factory and all the Town’s resources for a far less amount of money than she had offered for Serge’s life, and promise her that the mine is good for the money and that they have no idea why it was shut down. That was when Karla bursts in laughter as her lawyer (the former Judge) declares that she is the current owner of all the Town’s resources, and that it was her who practically drove the Town to bankruptcy by shutting all of it down.

During which, the Mayor and the Sheriff pay Serge a visit and inform him that he will be subject to an open trial in front of the Town for his previous crime and ask him if he would accept their verdict. He looks them in the eye and tells them that he would. That was when the Mayor urges the Sheriff to help him present to Serge the idea of ending his own life. Serge stares them down as he says that he would accept the trial as a form of atonement, but he would not spare them having to live with judging and condemning him only for the sake of the money rather than justice.

He goes to the hut that night and finds Karla. She tells him how she knew about her baby girl died. She says in the most profound words of how she had walked with two corpses (hers and her child’s) out of that town and that it was him who had sentenced them to death and it has been her only drive for the past 20 years to make him feel the same way. She looks away as she says that after tomorrow she will have no purpose in life.

The next day, the trial is held where everyone voted against him, even the Town Teacher and the Town Doctor who says “it’s just one vote, what difference would it make if it were for you”. Serge was condemned and sentenced to death. Kalra’s lawyer gives the mayor the two cheques, one for the township and the other to be equally divided amount the people of Guellen.

In the midst of people’s cheering, Karla stands and asks them if there was one, just one person who would beg for Serge’s life even if it meant they would not get the money, no one answers. She looks around as she waits some more for someone to rise from the crowd, only no one does.

She says that they accused her long ago and forced her out of the town, and that now, they condemn and sentence the man they befriended for years to death for her money, that they were all the same, murderers. She screams at them and tells them that she bought Serge’s life for money and that she could have bought it for a lot less if she wanted.

Then, she tells them that she wants Serge to remain alive, because if he died, they would forget their crimes with time. She said she’d rather have him live among them to remind them of their cruelty and immorality day in and day out and to be reminded that his own people, friends and family, not one of them stood in his defense.

She then declares her visit over and fires the Judge and the two witnesses and asks them to stay in Guellen for it is where they belong since she could no longer use them.

-----

I love the movie. I ached and sympathized with every word Karla said, and neither could I help but feel sorry for Serge when he was prosecuted by everyone for the wrong cause.

Yes, he was the bad guy, he ruined her life in a sense, and he was a coward about it for he could have run away from town if he could, only he couldn’t; he only surrendered to his fate when he was left no other choice. Nonetheless, imagining what it would be like to have everyone turning against you, not because they are moral and seem to disapprove of what you did, but because it lies in their own best interest. To know that those people would have behaved the same even if you did no wrong, and that after years of breaking bread with you, they would spare you that way, it’s more than capital punishment to me.

And Karla, she went out of her way and literally bought a whole town to bring it to its doom so that she would get her revenge. One can say she went beyond ethics and morals herself buying the life of a man and turning his own people against him that way. Yet, if I were her, it would probably be the only thing I’d want myself; only I really doubt circumstances could be in anyone’s favor that way.

The sense of revenge versus justice is so mixed up in this movie, perhaps because it’s so messed up in real life as well. In theory, Karla was the one who was wronged by Serge and the Town, but 20 years later, she managed to do them all wrong and put them by her own painful shoes and acheiving her revenge in the name of justice.

But what I really admired the most was the ending, how she understood people’s tendency to forget their own cruelty and managed to remind them by asking that Serge would live. She wanted him to live every day of his life reliving that trial and how abandoned he was, the same way she was when she left that town. She did not have his blood on her hand, she had it on theirs, and she left him to look them in the eye for as long as he would live. She did not gloat in a false sense of victory; she did not look or seem happy or fulfilled, she was miserable as everyone else if not more.

It was poetic despite its cruelty, but aren’t we –people- cruel that way; we turn against one another when faced by our self interest rather than stand for what’s right or wrong. We lose sense of justice until we turn it into heartless revenge and then we do it all over again simply because we forget.

Some of what I have gotten figured out so far…

2009-09-01T23:16:00.005+02:00

This is not exactly a post; it is only post material because it was too long a reply for IBHOG’s comment on my previous post, and well, it got me to reflect a little bit on who I am!

I must say that it will be in the form of a comment reply, only with a beginning and an ending for each sentence and appropriate capitalizations when there should be any… here is goes:

I do not hate gray areas as much as I used to (I am 28, no longer 22, it could be an age thing). Now, I acknowledge and accept the gray area, but I never feel comfortable there myself. I remain emotionally detached from those who prefer
the gray area as much as I try not to judge them for it. If I am to give a person the keys to who I am, they can either be black or white; then leave it to me to take whatever risks there might be, knowing what the stakes are!

I would never forgive or trust someone who had lied to my face. I have told my own share of lies when I –thought I- had to out of self-preservation, but they were never told with cold blood. It's actually very easy to tell when I am lying regardless of how brilliant my lie is (I don't lack the logical imagination). I no longer tell lies because they are simply not worth it, not worth how undignified would feel when those lies unravel, and lies always do!

Right and wrong, I see them clearly. Even when I am choosing wrong over right, I would never fool myself or justify by lying; when I do wrong, I either think it's right and admit it later with shame written all over me, or I simply say "it is probably wrong, but I am doing it anyway" (stubborn as a mule syndrome). But I know not everyone sees things the way I do, or at least I keep reminding myself of that on daily basis (I am seriously thinking I’d have it written in a bold font, framed and put on my night stand).

I can’t say I have an eye for victims. If anything, I could be intolerant of the cliché victims, the ones that whine and complain nonstop; I tend to think that the real victims are the ones who have too much pride to sit around and mope, so they try to pretend that it’s all ok. I see them, and I wish I could hold them and let them cry the tears I never could, but then I would ruin the act they maintain to be able to… live?

I’ve been told a lot that I am a child and that I am really naïve, and I am aware of that because I still take certain things for granted. However, I think I have been shocked in a sense because the very same things I take for granted are the ones I am forced to constantly doubt!!!! For example, I am known for that phrase “why would he/she lie, they they really didn't have to!”, but now I find myself analyzing things I’ve been told making sure I didn’t miss any hidden meanings that could change the whole message I was sent!!!

It could be what bad experience has done to me, but why do I still act all naïve like no one would expect?? (I have two friends who constantly send out vibes that they want to snap my neck because I am “sazga”). But with every singly birthday, and with every month away from it, I find myself wondering where my years have gone and wonder how I missed out on the little things I wanted to do when I feel too old to do them already!! It’s sad and I don’t dwell; thank God for my short attention span, sometimes I think I cling to it with everything I got to help me survive.

I talk with myself since the day I mastered speech. I had all sorts of imaginary friends until I finally settled that there is another me who listens and understands like no other. We talk a lot and we get along most of the time, and I am miserable when we’re mad at one another. I see every conversation I had/about to have with anyone in so many scenarios and sometimes I finish the conversation differently in my head just to put my troubled soul at ease.

Would you sleep with a mind that functions that way? I sleep, for two hours, and then I wake up and think some more until my thoughts take me back to sleep and then abandon me two our later to wake up on a new thought. I am a very light sleeper and I barely wake up feeling like I’ve had enough sleep.

I don’t know how to say the words I have in mind, I write them better than I say them. Ironically, my therapist showed amazement at how articulate I am when I first visited her. But I have a friend who agrees that I blurt stuff more than I should, and that it sort of gets me in trouble most of the time.

I only know I live in a bubble because I have been told that by almost everyone I know!! And because since the moment I decided to believe them, and took a real step out of my bubble and tried to see things for what they really are, I rushed back into my bubble and wished I never stepped out. Fetal position comes to mind when I think of my bubble versus the real world!

As for being strong, it comes and goes, when it goes, I see myself falling into little pieces, but Alhamdulilah it comes back shortly after and I see myself being gathered again!! I wish I could describe it more eloquently, but it’s the closest to how it feels most of the time; it could be because I am moody or I could be moody because my strength comes and goes, either way will do!

Compassion and carefulness, I don’t know, but sometimes I find myself unable to show the compassion I feel because I am afraid I would be intruding or that my compassion would be misinterpreted as sympathy and would bruise someone’s pride in the process, and it hurts to think that! Is that carefulness, or just some sort of temporary emotional paralysis? I am cynical, but under that thick layer of cynicism, hides a helpless Utopian who has high hopes, the kind that sends me blindly to my own cliff, don’t they say that cynics are the mushiest, or something of the sort?

Thanks IBHOG for helping me put what I knew about myself in words!

The rest of the reply to your comment belongs to the comment page, because it’s not about me to publish.

In theory and in practice…

2009-08-31T11:55:00.004+02:00

As a child, I remember being called “noisy”, “restless”, and “smart-mouth”; I distinctively remember fragments of incidents where people asked me to “pipe down” or “be quiet”, or the infamous “shhhhh”. Yet, I don’t recall being hated for it; I was the apple of my late nana’s eye, my uncle spoilt me rotten, actually all three from mama’s side, not to even mention my youngest two aunts!! I was the grandchild for mama’s side, except for my late grandfather, we disliked each other! As for baba’s side, I distinctively remember how kind my late grandpa was; I can fairly say I loved him. The rest of baba’s side is on the usual good and sometimes not so goodd terms, which is normal given that we live in two different cities.

Probably something changed along the way when I was a teenager. I became more observing and less noisy for I didn’t have any significant mishaps at school that would require my parents showing in for any explanation. I was the kid no one noticed really, but I had an opinion about everyone I’ve encountered. When I tell people that I was rather shy at school, they roll their eyes as they say something like “ya moftareya, you, shy?!” And it never feels like compliment by the way!!

I remember whenever we travelled abroad during those times, my dad would push me out of the car (by yelling at me) to walk to the convenience store in the gas station and ask for directions, 2al eh “khaleeky garee2a”. Of course, until now, I am still sure that it was about the whole men-don’t-ask-for-directions thing. Bottom line, my dad always insisted that I should be roughened up, mostly because “al ne3ma tazool” and secretly because he did not have boys and I was his first born.

I never realized I took so much after him until a prof atcollege who happened to have have graduated from the same college as my dad said “fe3lan, man shabah abah...”! Turns out that my dad was a real trouble maker –like I was in college-, the kind who stands up for what he thought was right and never backed down until he got what he thought was his, except that I did better than he did academically!

Everyone I know who happens to know my father says that I take too much after him, I must have mentioned that quite a few times. Even the things, I don’t take after him are pretty much influenced by him; a few people told me I am that strong because of the way he raised me and I am that tough on myself because I don’t want him to be tough on me. Possibly true.

In summary, I am strong, opinionated, stubborn, proud, kindhearted, responsible, ethically and morally aware, hot blooded, emotional and passionate, capable of using logic, socially smart because I am what he made me. In theory it is like the perfect result for an equation that took 28 years to balance.

In practice, it means NOTHING.

I am strong, but I have deadly weaknesses. Actually, my strengths and weaknesses are very hard to separate; I am deadly stubborn for my own good, but it is how I manage to stand up and not fall, I am borderline masochist in a rhetorical sense because I am too proud to be caught in fault by other, so my conscience (the big bully) takes it all out on me and no one else!!

I am opinionated, but I can lose my focus sometimes because of my kindheartedness, not to mention my stubbornness and my ridiculous pride.

I am forced by myself (and my obligations) to act responsible 80% of the time, which is really hard because I am a 28 year old who still refuses to see anything but a 4 year-old in her mirror image.

As for my so called sense of logic, it’s a joke when faced by my blind passion when I am emotional about something. Don’t I have my dad’s passion after all? I can cry when I am talking about someone I love, or imagine what it’s like for someone to lose a loved one! Isn't death one of the most logical things! I have my dad's crippled-emotions syndrome; until today, I don't know how to just lay in father's arms and cry when I am in distress.

And my ethics and morals, they are challenged on daily basis living in this world and having to deal with things I was never subjected to. things I never thought existed!! Turns out, I only have those ethics and morals because I only lived in my dad’s bubble where it was so darn easy to practice them!!

And socially smart is the biggest joke. It goes down the drain the moment I step out of that bubble; I am constantly stuggling in my head trying to figure out people based on their reactions and lies and pretenses, as much as they’re probably baffled by my honesty and unexplained friendliness or rudeness, not to mention my ever changing moods.

I am a big mess that my father made, and I love him to pieces for it, and I am rather grateful on my good days.

But today, I feel like I was asked to change all that, for him to have more peace of mind because he worries and he would hate for me to get hurt again because of the nasty world we live in, the nasty world he never told me existed or prepared me for!

I love my daddy. I generally love my messy self most of the time. I would change some of who I am for my dad or for the people I sincerely care for, but I would never change for a society for which I have no respect.

I know, not exactly wise, but who said I had one ounce of wisdom in me.

The only reason I could possibly (and very remotely) care about what people think of me is because now I know how badly it affects my dad when people say anything less than how amazing and great I am!!

It makes me want to cry when I think of how disappointed he might be at me because of an insensitive word when I know that deep down he is actually proud! It breaks my heart to even think of all the things he would feel when he is reminded that I am not that perfect. The thought of upsetting him horrifies because I know I'd want nothing but my own death the moment he leaves this world even if I leave my boys behind (like a 4 year old, I pray each day that his day never comes).

That’s why I keep crying like a baby when I remember how he asked me to act more like a divorcee and mind what people may think of me. He said it while affirming that he knows I do no wrong. He said it admitting what he never exactly acknowledged before “da mogtama3 qazer”. But daddy, you never told me how rotten this society is and you left me to find that out on my own in the most scarring ways, and I know I have a lot to yet learn that I wish I wouldn’t .

I don’t know how to practice all I know is right in theory, yet keep my head held high when I worry about you daddy holding yours high if you worry that much about the scum of our society! We Kaman ana lessa ma3amaltesh 7aga astahel 3aleeha kol da!

The One…

2009-08-29T14:45:00.002+02:00

“do you believe in the one?” my friend asked.

“there was a time I must have, but now, I tell myself I should know better… it would be such a shame to be a 28 year old divorcee and still believe in a fairytale notion!” I said

I noticed how that matter keeps being brought up, and if not, it’s something that would bring me to think of it!

I don’t remember when I believed there was a one for me, but I suppose I must have thought it was my x!

I try to look back and remember what made me think we were a match made in heaven, and I fail, miserably! We didn’t have the same taste in anything; we liked different music, we preferred different colors and patterns, we liked different furniture styles, we liked to hang with different kinds of people, and we had different dreams! Yet, we used to think each of us was the other’s missing half!!

Ok, hindsight is 20/20.

Now, I am a bit wised up, or so I hope, although I keep stumbling on strong evidence that I am not, I will delude myself long enough to finish this thought.

I think the concept of “the one” is just too… cruel.

Yes, cruel is the word, not dreamy and not ideal, plain cruel.

To be with someone and think they’re the one means you’re practically running towards a cliff blinded by strong emotions that are bound to fade and fail you, and let you fall from that cliff with no one to catch your fall.

No, not cynical, not at all… just plain realistic!

I see myself, I see people around me who had mistakenly thought they found the one, and I see how disillusioned they are.

I see other people who thought they stumbled on the one when they were already in complicated committed relationships and kept torturing themselves over missing that one and I feel bad for them because they might as well have been with that person to yearn for another and wonder!

It’s a cruel cruel joke from whoever came up with that concept; what did he/she know or think to say such thing? Didn’t they know that emotions never exactly last, not with the same intensity that blinds us from the flaws and mistakes and eliminates the boredom from constant monotony? Why did he/she link love to the one? We can fall in and out of love but to think that by doing so we’re getting closer or further away from the one where our eternal happiness is supposed to lie, it’s just painfully cruel.

I think the notion originated from one of those darn twisted Greek myths were their gods were petty and played with people’s fates according to their whims.

I think we indulged in that notion because we tend to treasure the things that bring us pain because we were told somewhere along the line that without misery we don’t recognize joy, only we forget to recognize joy because we dwell too much on misery.

Months ago, my friend concluded, “if there’s a one for me out there, I would like to meet her, even if we’re not meant to be together, I would just like to know her”

I replied jokingly, “I think if I see my one –if he ever exists- I’ll punch him in the face and ask him what took him so damn long”. Then I decided to be a bit more serious, “actually, if there’s a one for me out there and we’re not meant to be together, I’d rather he stays where he is; the last thing I need is more heartbreak”

So to sum this up, I don’t advise people to live searching or even waiting for the one; if the one is the person we love, news flash, love is not what we think it is, not even close! Love is too fickle to be about just one person, and life is too long and ever changing to be just about one person.

I just don’t have an alternative notion, not yet.

On Fate and Futility…

2009-08-10T11:33:00.008+03:00

Disclaimer: I refer in this post to the movie Alf Mabrouk, so if you haven’t seen it, wait until you do before you read this post; I hate to be a movie spoiler.

We were in the car driving by one of the billboards of the movie…

Him: Did you see the movie?
Me: Yes.
Him: Nice, you know, it’s adapted from the Sisyphus of the Greek mythology, you know him?
Me: *almost offended by his arrogance* yes, the man who kept cheating death until he was sentenced to his eternal punishment!
Him: no one can really escape their fate, if he had just accepted that he would die, he would have spared himself all the unnecessary effort

*I tried to refrain from commenting and kept telling myself that I should not dignify a conversation with someone who doesn’t have that much appreciation to philosophy*

*A while later, I decided I couldn’t just hold back; I've been having too many thoughts in my mind related to that lately!*

Me: so you think the main character in the movie should have just accepted death? Or were you talking about Sisyphus?
Him: isn’t it the same?
Me: not really, Sisyphus represents a different culture and context from the movie, the movie might be adapted from the myth but there is more to it than just that, at least that’s what I think
Him: didn’t he die anyway?
Me: no, he chose to die at the end of the movie, it took him several do-over’s of the same day to understand the context of all of his misunderstandings, it took him several times to pay attention to the details until he was finally able to shift them away from him… and then, knowing all the details and understanding them, he decided that the best scenario he could accept was the one that ends with his death rather than his loved ones’… he was NOT beaten by fate, he chose to acknowledge and accept it...
And behind that lies the whole idea of the movie, or at least what I think... that there are details that we miss on daily basis either that are either shaped by who we are or have a role in shaping us... and if we manage to take a closer look to see more than one angle, perhaps we’d settle for the fates we first resented… however, when we keep fighting our fates without understanding them, without
realizing the parts of our own doing, we keep going round in that futile circle and repeat the mistakes one after the other…
Him: but it’s all pre-written, isn’t that what fate means? What’s the point of trying to change what’s already been sealed for us?
Me: Are you talking about Sisyphus vs. our own beliefs? There is a difference; the myth does not acknowledge the existence of a fair God, while I personally do! I believe our fates are sealed based on our choices; there wouldn’t be heaven or hell if there was no such thing as free will… we make our choices and the pieces fall in the place where they are meant to be based on OUR choices!
Him: so do you think our fate is to be where we are right now?
Me: what do you mean?
Him: we’re no longer together, is this our fate or is there something we can do to change it?
Me: *giving him a dirty look* if we want to be together we can make the choices that would take us to that fate, but we don’t want the same thing, I don’t want to be with you and I never will... I made the wrong choices before and I am still rolling my own stone up that hill to repent wasting a better chance somewhere along my life!
Don’t you get it, I ruined my own fate when I chose you and I am still trying to fix it!
Him: thanks

*I decided that was the end of the conversation*

Although I have no regrets or second thoughts about leaving him, I can’t stop thinking about what my fate could have been if I had not taken my first step towards him. I still wonder if I will repeat any of my previous mistakes either because I never acknowledged them or I am simply too weak or naïve to hold on to the path that would lead me to a better fate.

I know life is not futile by nature, I know we choose to make it so when we insist on our behaviors and attitudes without leaving room for the flexibility that could come from looking a little bit beneath the surface and understanding that there are details to which we need to pay attention.

I judge every word I say, every little thing I do, and I keep asking myself… am I rationalizing right from wrong? Am I being to arrogant to admit my own faults and that’s why I can’t find my peace? Am I still reacting to pain and thus unable to break free from that vicious circle?

I know I don’t have ill intentions, but I also know that I didn’t deserve better than what I got and I don’t want to be that person again…

A Quote that got me where I started!!

2009-08-09T01:18:00.006+03:00

"لو أن كل انسان عرف متى يمتنع عن اتخاذ الخطوة الأولى، لتغيرت أشياء كثيرة"
(موسم الهجرة إلى الشمال لـ الطيب صالح، على لسان (مصطفى سعيد -

I had a task to finish that book today. I actually locked myself in my room and began to read so determined not to lose focus in my surroundings or drift to something else while reading, like I usually do.

Until I came to that phrase…

I stopped to read it again, and when I was done, I read it again. it was captivating how that phrase echoed in my mind, how I could relate to it. I am sure everyone does, but it was one of the millions of thoughts that were haunting me lately and the words describing it were right there mocking me in a book where I didn’t expect to find it.

For a while there, I sat and tried to trace all my first steps that led me to unfavorable places. But then, I shook my head and decided that I would think about it some more when I’m done reading the book.

I went half way through the book until I felt rather tired and sleepy, so I decided to take a break and nap.

I woke up an hour later, having almost forgotten about that phrase. A while later I decided to resume my reading and as I read some more, I noticed how baby sis marked her favorite quotes, ones I liked, but they got me back to that one immediately because it was the quote that touched me the most in the book.

The book did not exactly fascinate me, not half as much as the quote anyway!

I can’t seem to get my mind off my first steps, at least those I remember…

Is there a way we can identify those first steps before taking them? Apparently, you can’t really take them back, it takes a lot of effort to fix the consequences, and it’s just draining! Why is it so hard? Why can we only see them in retrospect instead of in advance? Silly naïve me!

I finished the book in an attempt to focus on one thing and stop thinking about the millions of things that don’t do me good, but somehow it got me where I started… I am still mad at myself and completely unsettled.

Okay, I’ll try another book, but not today, I think it’s time to go to bed and struggle with my insomnia.

Evidence that I shouldn’t be left alone with the voices in my head…HELP!

2009-08-06T23:33:00.003+03:00

*stupid stupid stupid*
-ok I am stupid, no need to rub it in!-

*ya ghabbeya*
-we ba3dein ba2a!!-

-I’m bored-
*don’t do something stupid*
-ufffff-

I sit and overanalyze…
The why’s and the how’s and what the hell’s…
I hide from my mirror image; she knows too much!
Yet she follows me every time I wash my face, and her eyes stare right into the thoughts I hide, humphfff!

Flu bad…
I don’t need more time resting, not that way;
I’ll have more space to overanalyze some more, ehe2!!!
I lost my voice, I am not even sure it will be back…
I don’t have the energy to talk, ME!!!!
I sit back some more…

I sit an observe…
Are those mistakes similar to mine? Was I like that?
In my heart, I know I wasn’t…
Damn you self doubt!!

*you know it’s not the same, stop it*
-I’m bored!-
*and hurting yourself is entertaining?! IDIOT*
-uffff-

I stare myself in the mirror…
My eyes are red, blood red, and they hurt…
A7san bardu, I didn’t want to see whatever it is I was looking for!

-I miss…-
*shhhh, sleep! It’s the time when you’re of least danger to yourself, etkhemdy*
-but…-
*shhhhhhhh*

I keep coughing in my sleep, I can almost feel someone is snatching my throat out and tearing into it with a coarse knife…
It’s too hot and I can’t seem to have any good sleep, I lower the a/c temperature…
I go back to bed and fall into a comma that ends with a nightmare of the x going all coocoo and trying to kill me and the boys…
I wake up to find the scratches on my arms and my neck…
My eyes are still red like I’ve never slept in my entire life…

-I don’t care, I miss… I don’t know, I am missing something, having a goal perhaps, doing something I enjoy, anticipating something I want… I feel restless despite being sick and I wanna go out and do something about it-
*etweksy*
-na3am!!!-
*aywan, etweksy, need I say more?*
-uffff-

Mafeesh Fayda!!

2009-07-21T11:40:00.010+03:00

I'm joking and laughing as if there were no tears a while ago!

I'm telling myself that it was no big deal and that I better stop obsessing and move on already!

I'm too stubborn to allow myself to ache and take time to heal, God forbid I would collapse in the healing process, hasn't he said that in my stubbornness lies my strength!

So I lock it in, stand up and pretend nothing ever happened, it's easier, comme d'habitude!

I do it knowing that I am just burying something that will rise later to haunt me, and I am saying it's ok; I'll be stronger by then!!

But I know it will hit me when I need to be strong to make me weaker...

Yet I'm doing what I do best, I laugh and change the subject with a witty joke!!

In retrospect

2009-07-21T10:28:00.004+03:00

The movie…

He looked like him. In real life, he doesn’t; just the petite structure and the haircut and the little beard.

He behaved like him. Not exactly, just the humor and the charm and the selfishness, only in real life he showed more kindness that hid the selfishness, kindness that made all his mistakes forgiven.

He reminded me of him when he shaved off that hair. Only in real life, he had bigger brown eyes, and higher cheekbones, the features we share.

I cried because under layers of years that hold anger, contempt and disappointed, I realized that I missed him.

The club…

I needed someone who would charm my boys and play with them like he did with me, I thought of him.

I needed someone who’d throw a punch for me without thinking of consequences, I thought of him.

I needed someone who’d hold me and tell me that it will be ok, and I realized I needed him, not him him, the him I thought he was.

The restaurant…

I finally talked about it, it was too clear in my head that I missed him and I needed him. I knew I did because I was vulnerable. Alhamdulilah, I had a great friend to listen.

I didn’t say how he disappointed me, I don’t think I really remember anymore, but I still don’t forgive him, and I know for a fact that I would never tell him how I miss him or need him if we ever talk again, not that I think we ever will.

Yesterday…

I kept going back to that little girl; I envied and pitied her for all she had…

She had the warm loving arms that she appreciated…

She had safe arms that she missed and idealized…

She had warm, loving, safe and overprotective arms that she resented and couldn’t appreciate…

She didn’t see things clearly. Like the movie, she needed lots of time to figure things out for what they really are, but in her case, a lifetime…

A lifetime where she stopped hanging around the warm loving arms that she loved until they were no longer there to hold her…

A lifetime of mistakenly believing in the safety of the arms she missed to realize that those arms were nothing but a heartbreaking disappointment…

A lifetime of avoiding and rejecting the warm, loving, safe and overprotective arms that she couldn’t bear, now, all she wishes she could do is hide in those arms and cry all those lost years… but she’s afraid… afraid of all the questions, afraid of the tears, afraid of being overwhelmed… but most of all, terrified of losing those arms the moment she surrenders to them…

A lifetime full of stupid mistakes she did because she never turned to those arms...

Yesterday, all I wanted was to run in those arms and cry, but I didn’t want the questions that I couldn’t answer and I didn’t know how to show my vulnerability, so I didn’t… I couldn’t even cry on my own…

Right now…

Tears keep flowing with every word I type! I am not crying, tears just fall out of my eyes hurting my eyes but not easing my soul.

And I still feel unable to find the words that tell any of it, it’s too hard to describe it to begin with…

I miss when my pain could find its way out without me looking for words, and I miss him and how he could have fixed me… I take a glimpse at my little mementos and try to remember his words to guide me, but I feel too confused right now…

I’m trying to learn from all the things that revealed themselves in the past days, trying to figure out how to fix myself so that I would not repeat any of my mistakes.

I don’t want to compile unpleasant experiences and lock them. I don’t want to pretend they never happened and they never affected me until they find the chance to haunt me and mess up my life like tides ruin sand castles… I want my life to be more than sandcastles, and I have no idea how…

Arms that once held me…

2009-07-19T15:22:00.001+03:00

I remember arms that held me so tight, arms where I found warmth, love and unconditional love, arms that felt ever tender, arms where I wish I could have stayed forever. I miss those arms, I miss how they smelled and how loved I felt in them, every night before I sleep, I pray I’d have those arms around me in my sleep like they held me long ago…

I remember other arms, arms that felt like home, arms that I missed for so long and lingered for with tears only to be wrapped in them for brief minutes before yet another separation, arms that disappointed me like no other. As genuine as it was then, it lost its meaning now for I didn’t know better. I miss those arms, I wish they lasted, but I would never want them back…

And there were arms I thought were mine, arms I thought would never forsake me, arms where I thought I felt safe and loved, arms I mistakenly thought would protect me, arms that squeezed life out of me. The memory of those arms makes me noxious and sick and I find myself gasping for air when they come to mind…

And there are those arms, arms I know are loving and sincere, arms that I know would keep me safe and protect me from all harm, arms I really need, arms where I long to be, hoping I would be able to cry my heart out without losing my pride. I love those arms, yet I am too scared of surrendering in them; I’m afraid they’d get tired of holding me, and I am more afraid of ever losing them that I force myself to do without them. I wish I could melt in those arms… no, I wish those arms would be there forever even if I never let them hold me, but I need to know that they’re always there…

There are also those little arms, arms that barely wrap around me, yet give me a sense of happiness and joy mixed with traces of sorrow and hurt, arms that fill me with hope and yet fear, fear of the unknown. I love those arms…

And then, there are my arms…

Arms that are only capable of holding those I love so close to my heart, hoping it would be enough to ease away their pain… Arms that want to be warm, safe, protective, and loving… Arms that are terrified of being cruel, hard or disappointing… I think of how much love I need to channel with those arms every time I hold my kids, I need them to know the things I can only say with my arms as I hold them…

Such a shame…

2009-07-17T22:23:00.003+03:00

I hear those words a lot, “such a shame”…

When people look at me and realize I’m a divorcee, they shake their heads and very bluntly imply it...

“You’re young, too young to be a mother and a divorcee already…”

And it’s worse when they see my babies; you see, as annoying as my kids can be, they’ve been blessed with some sort of charm that I can’t really understand… it could be Beem’s radiant smile or Mocha’s big brown eyes that steal people’s hearts away!

And when they know they belong to a single mother and an absent father, they shake their heads even harder and say it with such disbelief and disappointment…

“Such beautiful kids, such a shame, la 7awla wala quawata ella b’Ellah”

Those words are not necessarily said; they don’t need to be, they are too loud in their eyes that it deafens me and disturbs my peace!

And the thoughts explode in my head…

It hurts to see my kids loving someone so unworthy, it hurts to see them getting so attached to someone who’s only there for them to get to me and make me pay for breaking free and doing it with my head up high without any sense of regret or defeat that would satisfy his sick ego.

It hurts me that I am not able to fight back and play as dirty to stop him, that I can’t get back at him because I worry about my kids’ wellbeing!

Now that’s a shame…

To have that much anger, hate and resentment for someone and not be able to use it to hurt him and cause him as much irreversible damage as he caused…

It’s such a shame to hold on to my ethics and upbringing, stick to right and refrain from wrong when every cell of my body is screaming “PAYBACK”

It’s such a shame to feel that much rage and yet still listen to that frail voice telling me that everything evens up at the end and that he will pay one day, and that he’ll pay dearly!

Right now, that’s not really enough…. I don’t want him to pay one day, I want him to pay NOW! I don’t want him to wonder what he could have possibly done to deserve the pain and agony I wish him; I want him to know it’s because of what he’s done to me and to those boys and spend the rest of his days trying to think of ways to fix it hoping his pain would stop…

It may sound like I want revenge, but all I really want is justice, poetic justice, the kind they spoke of in fairytales and fables, the kind I should be old enough to know does not exist…

Such a shame!

On being a parent, the things they never told me!

2009-07-14T12:33:00.003+03:00

I know I am not alone and I surely know I have it a lot better than other people, alhamdulilah.

However, that does not deny me the right to rant and wonder how to make it better, no???

So here is the deal…

I have two boys, ages (almost) 4 and 2, we live with my family (father, mother, two sisters), my father is usually away Wednesdays to Saturdays and the boys see their dad on Fridays.

Anyone who’s followed my blog long enough would know for a fact that the their father is “zay 3adamo” as an efficient father figure; his only job is to spoil them rotten in the sense of “you’re missing out on lots of fun” which the kids do not pick up on much due to their short attention span. Their father is the same guy who calls me on my cell phone around 5 times when I take a bathroom break away from them and decide to sit down and have coffee to help me survive the stressful outing. AND, he’s the very same guy who keeps receipts of clothes, toys and meals he buys them!!!!! Do I really need to say more?!

I love my kids to pieces; I mean yeah, I whine 30 hours a day about how I miss being just myself without worrying about others the way I do... and yeah I run away in outings with friends whenever possible… but when I am out and I see other people’s kids within the same age as mine, I almost cry because I miss them!! I almost feel my uterus contracting like when they used to be in it and kick!!!!! It makes me feel guilty, an emotion I am not that much used to… momken awy la2enny 7aloofa!

That’s still not the issue; that was an introduction because I am a very talkative person…

Beem (my almost 4 year old) as cute as he is, is showing signs of needing tarbeyah, which I think is critical at his age if I want him to be a half decent human being at some stage of his life, hopefully right after surviving the horrid teenage years.

Looks wise, I think he looks a lot like me despite how everyone keeps saying he takes more after his dad. The reason I am mentioning the looks is that I don’t want anyone out there saying that I am emotionally unstable because he reminds me of his dad that way.

But the poor thing takes after his dad; he’s too analytical, he has very selective memory, he LOVES preaching and arguing like there’s no tomorrow, he never takes the blame and when he does it’s ALWAYS justified, and he uses his charm to get away with EVERYTHING!! For the astrological people out there, his dad is Libra and he’s Virgo; these are more or less the stuff they have in common as sunsigns too!

Now, I keep reminding myself that those things are general things about kids, but let me be accurate; he takes them to the next level!!! And I also realize few of those are good stuff if they’re developed the right way, but I don’t know how to, especially that they remind me of his dad a lot which makes me overreact, yes, I am aware that I do overreact and I am trying to control it!

I appreciate Beem’s IQ, and I love how he is so analytical to the extent that he doesn’t miss a single detail! I like how he remembers things I said; it keeps me on my toes keeping all the promises I make him, but it drives me crazy how he would just pretend to not remember my specific instructions, yes I know he’s only 4, but I have lately realized I can be a perfectionist Nazi (and an ethics Nazi like my friend was telling me)! His arguing skills impress me; very few people leave me speechless the way he does, but the kid has to know at some point that it can be annoying like hell!! And I won’t even comment on placing blame and getting out of it with charm, it makes me want to kill him, and then I look at his cute little face and I want to keep kissing his cheeks and eyes; he’s my CUTE Beem!!

And there’s another problem, the kid barely hangs with people from his gender aside from the rest of boys at the daycare! Between my dad being away and being entitled as a grandparent to spoil him rotten and his dad being a spoilt brat, I don’t have a strong authoritative figure who can also be a role model, which leaves me to do that role! Like I needed more reason to be more “man-like”! Now, I yell in thick scary voice when I have to, I do the threatening walk, and sometimes I hit… my heart aches when I overhear my mom telling him “hatesma3 el kalam walla 2a2ool le mama 3aleik” the way she used to tell me “haaaah, 2a2ool le baba!!”; I don't want to be the bad guy to my kids, not that kind of bad guy anyways... I've always pictured us being more like friends, not really happening :'(

I hate it when I am angry at him, especially that he is so sensitive; all I really want is for him to be able to realize right and wrong on his own and stand up and admit it when he’s wrong and be a man about it!! I realize very few men behave that way, and I realize the little thing is not even 4 yet, and I can tell I am being cruel, but I am scared of the alternative!! I don’t want to be one of those parents who bring more jerks into the world and end up defending their sick actions because there’s nothing that they can do about it!! My friend tells me that being too righteous is just as bad because it might actually lead to the same outcome, and the sad thing is that he’s right and I know it, but it’s HARD to figure out a balance, let alone keeping it!!

And that was just Beem!!!

I have double the worry about Mocha because he copycats his own brother and adds up more attitude since he’s the trouble maker!! I also have to watch out for sibling jealousy and be really smart about it when one of them tries to get the other in trouble (Mocha is a master doing it to Beem!!!), and I have to be very subtle about teaching them a lesson and being fair especially with how hillarious Mocha is (I respond better to good sense of humor than I do to charm!)

I feel tired just writing this, I can’t even imagine having to live it day to day, let alone doing it right!

I love them, I REALLY do, but I keep thinking “I didn’t sign up for this, I wasn’t even that enthusiastic about becoming a mother” (yeah not so motherly of me to say it!!)… A friend of my father laughs and tells me “if you do all the things your dad did with you, you’ll be safe; you and your sisters turned out great”, as sweet as it is, it’s not exactly true; MOREOVER, I am not the father in this scenario, I am the single mother and it makes it twice as hard especially when the other party is such a bad influence and barely acts as any sort of support!!
I don’t know how to be like my father when I still feel like one BIG child myself! I don’t think I’m fit to behave like an adult just yet!! I see now why baba did so many things I once disliked, and I feel for him.

When did it become not-ok to cry and kick the floor when things didn’t go my way!!

After midnight blabbers…

2009-07-10T00:36:00.003+03:00

It’s been a while, and I keep having random thoughts in my head that drive me insane, but not long enough for me to write them down. However, tonight I just have an unbearable urge to let them out, or at least some...

This is one of the loud thoughts I have in my head…

Wouldn’t this world be a much better place if each one of us believed that everyone is someone else’s father/mother, son/daughter, brother/sister and/or, husband/wife… as in that each and everyone one of us has a bunch of people in his/her life who think great deal of him/her!!

Yeah, I am starting to understand why exactly most of my friends think I need to be admitted into some facility that “protects” people like me! But really, just take a moment to imagine it; better yet, take a minute to think of someone you dislike as someone else’s special person! (I don’t necessarily mean special special)

This word keeps echoing in my head for no good reason!

Yearning, as in: Longing, aching, nostalgic… I have no idea for what!!

Current Soundtrack…

Charles Aznavour Duos!! I still can’t get over the intensity of his voice in different languages! The way he says each word makes my heart skip beats!!!!

Nina Simone’s The Keeper of the Flame made me tear up when it played randomly in the car; I wasn’t even paying attention to the lyrics, but the music definitely hit a nerve I am unaware of!

I am not sure if the soundtrack stirred the nostalgia and the yearning or if I am vulnerable to the music because of those feeling; either way, they get along fine!!

The daily annoyances…

The infamous X… the annoying colleague at work who wouldn’t let me ignore him… and the governmental officials that make me want to forget about them being someone else’s special and kill them or wish them horrible deaths, especially that freakin’ officer with the dirty looks, I wish that one turns blind!!

I should have also mentioned the evil side of me since I am wishing all the above all the shit they made me go through during the past few days!

My little blessings

My cute little monsters of kids; I can’t get over how sweet and kind Beem is, and how hilarious and cute my Mocha is, pretty much makes up for how nagging Beem can be and how crazy and aggressive Mocha is!!

The little extra bonus at work and the medical insurance refund (yeah I kinda need the money)

My dad’s little surprise that I hope would come to term without any disappointment (God, I know I am asking for way too much!!)

The few laughs I had with Rasha yesterday and today, aside from the nakad movie that had the poor thing sobbing!

The things I KNOW I should do...

Show God my gratitude, as in do my prayers on time we balash estehbal… Clean up the damn room… save money… spend more time with the boys and enjoy them… watch out… finalize all pendings at work on daily basis or whatever closest ( I hate loose ends at work and I’ve been leaving a lot behind!)… catch up with a lot of my friends…

There must be a lot more but I am too tired now; I think I’ll call it a night…

Hoping and praying for a good weekend pour moi and for all of you out there… be well.

On Boundaries…

2009-06-23T09:35:00.004+03:00

Almost a year ago or something…

Looking into the random scribbles and smiling without looking back at me…

“You’re very aggressive. Thing is, you have every right to be; you don’t just burst for no reason, you hold it in for too long until you can no longer handle it and then you become too aggressive, it comes from pain”

Looking at me…

“Why is that??”

I smile and I shrug…

“It’s just who I am I guess!”

Still looking at me…

“It’s not ok because it gets to you more than it should. You let people abuse you in a way because you don’t want to acknowledge that you’re not ok, they push you far beyond your limits and you still try to pretend it’s ok until you no longer can… at that point, it’s pretty much too late for them to fix things and also very late for you to forgive them for messing things up… you’re already too hurt and you burn those bridges with both pain and rage”

Avoiding eye contact…

“I don’t know what else to do; I expect people to understand me well enough to not cross my boundaries!”

Still staring at me, yet maintaining the quiet tone…

“Do you know your boundaries? I don’t think you define yours clearly enough although you're very aware of others'; it’s a loose term when it comes to you because once someone gets close enough; there is almost nothing you wouldn’t take from them … isn’t that what happened with your x? It does not change that he was not a good person, but you let him get away with a lot of things he shouldn’t have until you no longer could, right?”

Nodding…

He resumed…

“You should make boundaries, clear ones, especially for those you love and care about because those are the ones that hurt you the most. If you let them know in advance that you’re not as strong as you come off, they’d be more careful… and if they don’t, at least it would be early enough for you not to hurt. Be as assertive as you seem to be”

He was right. Boundaries are such a loose term for me, not just with the ones I care for! Once I feel comfortable enough, I sort of let my guard down and make room for jerks to take me for granted.

Problem is, there is a nice-gene in there somewhere that doesn’t recognize harassment or abuse even if it hits me in the face! No not a nice gene, I’ll call it stupid-naïve-gene, and it keeps causing me emotional trauma and my mind keeps blocking it somewhere until the next one!

Ufff, when did people become so damn evil! I feel like an idiot just like my friend kept saying yesterday… no, not utopian like I kept correcting him, a complete idiot.

And now, I will try to figure out how aggressive I will have to be with that one! Given the circumstances, passive aggressive is the way to be… and complete avoidance, like the couple of ones before him. I see a pattern, one that I do not like, and I am thinking it’s also me, not just them.

I want…

2009-06-17T13:44:00.002+03:00

I almost never begin a sentence with “I want…”; I always say “I don’t want…” and find ways to imply what I want rather than stating it, possibly because I am never that certain about what I want the way I am about what I don’t. Duh.

Mmm, today I had a strong feeling that I wanted something as I was listening to Aznavour’s album Duo in all French, English and Spanish/Italian with other famous singers and staring at my computer screen. For a split second, my surroundings changed and I saw nothing around me but an opera theatre and the two singers going about with that song that shook every nerve!

Less than a minute later, as I was sipping my green jasmine tea (I am taking it easy with the coffee, Ramadan preparations), I saw myself with a blurry yet friendly face in a café at some European country sipping coffee and having a conversation.

I smiled… I still don’t know what caused those images that flashed in my head so vividly! All I could think of was that I wanted those images to be real! Et voila, I am writing them down for my own reference; let it be a record of me knowing something that I actually want.

I want to attend a music concert at the opera, I can even settle for Cairo Opera House, but I need one of those magnificent performances that shake my entire existence. I am not that impossible; any language will do… of course a Bocelli Opera Night would be miraculous. Yeah, big hopes!

I want to travel, with friends. I want to see different places and live according to my own schedule for a short while… I won’t be picky about the where, and I am flexible about the who because between myself and I, all my friends are amazing that way.

See, not picky at all! I think I used to be too picky because I never thought any of my dreams would come true so I pretended to mean to make it impossible! Now that I have touched some of my dreams, I think I should just make it easier…

I’ll go to my dream land now… perhaps I will update that post with more things to want, but hopefully, I will one day write a new post about how I got the things I wanted ;)

Such a Misleading Quote, Such a Misleading Notion!

2009-06-16T15:50:00.005+03:00

Years ago (nine years to be exact), I saw the movie The Story of Us. For whatever reason, I liked the movie a lot, a part of me still does to tell you that truth! Back then, I was more into happy endings and that movie provided more than just that; it provided an example of a marriage that worked despite all the problems, what else would a girl who had just met a guy (whom she thought was one) want!

One of my favorite parts, or perhaps even my favorite was the part right before the end where Michelle Pfeiffer breaks down and decides to give the marriage another try, which apparently saves the marriage, for perhaps another 15 years or so!

Anyways, here is the quote from that scene since I wasn’t able to get the utube embedding code!

“I'm saying Chow Funs because we're an us. There's a history here, and histories don't happen overnight. In Mesopotamia or Ancient Troy there are cities built on top of other cities, but I don't want another city, I like this city. I know what kind of mood your in when you wake up by which eyebrow is higher, and you know I'm a little quiet in the morning and compensate accordingly, that's a dance you perfect over time.

And it's hard, it's much harder than I thought it would be, but there's more good than bad and you don't just give up! And it's not for the sake of the children, but God they're great kids aren't they? And we made them, I mean think about that! It's like there were no people there, and then there were people and they grew, and an an an I won't be able to say to some stranger Josh has your hands or remember how Erin threw up at the Lincoln Memorial

And I'll try to relax, let's face it, anybody is going to have traits that get on your nerves, I mean, why shouldn't it be your annoying traits, and I know I'm no day at the beach, but I do have a good sense of direction so I can at least find the beach, which isn't a weakness of yours, it's a strength of mine.

And God you’re a good friend and good friends are hard to find. Charlotte said that in Charlottes Web and I love how you read that to Erin and you take on the voice of Wilber the Pig with such dedication even when your bone tired. That speaks volumes about character! And ultimately, isn't that what it comes down too? What a person is made of?

That girl in the pin helmet is still here 'bee boo bee boo' I didn't even know she existed until you and I'm afraid if you leave I may never see her again, even though I said at times you beat her out of me, isn't that the paradox? Haven't we hit the essential paradox? Give and take, push and pull, the yen the yang. The best of times, the worst of times!I think Dickens said it best, 'He could eat no fat, his wife could eat no lean', but, doesn't really apply here does it?

What I'm trying to say is, I'm saying Chow Funs because, I love you”

I remember how that quote got me to stay in the marriage when I first had doubts (strong ones) shortly after my Beem was born, or was it a bit before I had given birth! I remember the moment cut from all its surroundings; I remember sitting on the couch, rather collapsing when my friend who was trying to give me advice said “he loves you, he might have screwed up, but he loves you still, and it should count for something”!

I don’t blame my friend, he saw the x through my loving eyes for a very long time it was hard to even imagine that I was that mistaken about someone! And like me, he always thought people would live by his own ethics and standards, not theirs!

Anyways, that line echoed in my head so loudly, I even told my friend about that scene, and it helped him encourage me to stay married to the x for a couple of years until my second pregnancy and his next affair! I think given all the stuff mentioned on this blog as well as more that I kept to myself, no quote would have made me stay any longer!!

Seeing that scene again, it made me feel like the ending of the movie was fabricated to strengthen the notion of marriage or perhaps to give people a false hope that a marriage can survive no matter what!

Correction! A marriage can survive alright, but without the “no matter what” part! There are relationships that are worth fighting for, and I am all pro two-way communication, but don’t bullshit me into believing that love conquers all or people should overlook communication problems because they love each other!

Ok, I must admit I still like to believe marriage works and love conquers, not necessarily all, but conquers ay 7aga!

But does it????

Right now, I have seen enough examples that confirm that marriage doesn’t work, not the way I have seen people doing it anyway! The examples I see are basically divided into the following:

- Couples who are like time bombs waiting to explode due to piling up all sorts of lack of communication issues,
- Couples who are too preoccupied with their daily struggles of income-making and bills-paying and post baby-having issues that they keep telling themselves “all will be ok, once we work all those things out”, or
- Couples whom I don’t know well enough who seem perfect, and I am honestly too afraid to find out if they aren't!

So I leave it to you dear reader to tell me how cynical and bitter my own experience had made me! And if I am that cynical and bitter, don’t be kind because I once promised myself I won’t be, so help me keep that promise! Oh, and I didn't even mean for that post to be cynical, it just felt like one as I was ending it!!

Oh oh! above cynical opinion of marriage shall not apply to Slop & Sou who are currently on their honeymoon, yet they keep logging on!! I wish those two the happily ever after they deserve :) And guys, if you're checking this post, log out and enjoy the honeymoon already!!

Pending Reflections…

2009-06-14T13:25:00.003+03:00

At the Physiotherapist’s…

“Just relax, let go!”
“I can’t!!”

At my Birthday Party…

“I am just too happy that I have nothing in mind that I can possibly wish for!”

My friend…

“Well sounds like you're surrounded by ppl who love you”

“What would you wish me?”
“Happiness, eternal happiness”

Will…

“Life is treating me well since my BD!!!”
“I think life thinks you've had enough”
“hehe, only it's never smart to actually believe that; life usually waits till u completely let your guard down”
“Well sometimes it's smart to believe that for a while”

At the Hairdresser’s while having my nails done…

“enty betsheddy a3sabbek awy!”
“haha, ma3lesh asfa, asly wakhda 3ala keda!”

So to sum up what I had in mind…

I am incapable of just relaxing and enjoying the good stuff that life gives me!

Yet, apparently when I am happy, my friends seem to wish me more happiness because I am such good company that way!

I worry… and I am too afraid of letting my guard down; it's understandable given all I've been through! Or so I would like to believe.

I am too tense, even when I am supposedly relaxed!!

What can I say, I’d rather be hit to the face as painful and humiliating as it can be, rather than being stabbed in the back; at least I can see it coming.

Today I was slapped at the face, and it still felt too personal and as painful as a stab in the back!

Bounced back instantly though; if there is anything for me to have learnt during those past few days was that happiness is too precious to be lost over such a jerk, or any other jerk for that matter!

I have a couple of things to learn… keep on my exercises so that my back wouldn’t relapse… and learn to bask in my happiness and enjoy it to the fullest; let my guard down and hope my happiness will protect me!

Still, hold on to the things that make me who I am because these are the things that make me deserve the good things I have…

So change, and yet remain who I am!

And I thought it was gonna be hard!

A reoccurring dream…

2009-06-06T17:35:00.000+03:00

A long day at the pool with my boys, followed by post pool exhaustion and an unusual earache!

I walked somewhere, and I saw him; his kind face and his peaceful aura…

“But you’re dead!!” I thought…

He smiled and said nothing…

“How come you’re dead, and yet I keep seeing you alive and well… like you’re always there, like your death was a bad dream!” I kept wondering…

He smiled even more and told me in his calmest tone of voice “I never really left, I will always be here, and you’ll always know where to find me”

I walked towards him to touch his hand, and before I knew it, I felt my Mocha climbing next to me in bed and laying in my arm…

I woke up to see the nanny putting Beem in bed and mumbled something to her before I hugged Mocha.

I closed my eyes again…

Then I opened them wide; I had just realized that it was a dream!

I don’t know if it’s the first time I have it, or if I had already done a couple of times, but it felt so familiar!

I felt peace… They say it's a good sign to dream of dead ones looking so good!

And I said a prayer for him.

Never Been Happier!!

2009-06-02T16:44:00.003+03:00

I don’t think I can put in words, but for the sake of all the sadness on this blog, I should at least try! So excuse the incoherence and inadequate choice of words; I’m too happy to actually find the right words to describe any of it!

I knew Rasha was on to something when I saw two of my friends recently added to her list of friends. She hid the FB notification, but she couldn’t hide their becoming mutual friends from me; strangely enough, I stumbled on her profile accidentally!!!

All I wanted was to sit somewhere quiet where Rasha, D and whomever of my friends would join for a get together. I knew it was not that easy given how not all of my friends know one another and I didn’t even ask or say how it would be great. I told a couple of my friends to join so casually so that they wouldn’t feel urged to since it was my birthday and all!

I lost track of my doubts about Rasha planning something; she was really subtle, she was not too hectic or too nervous for me to tell. Actually, she was too calm and quiet and she managed to orchestrate everything and divide the distraction equally among the rest of my friends. I always thought I’d figure you out Rasha because of how nervous you get when you’re on to something!!!

Mayo & Dee called me on my way to go some scarf shopping and made me change my plans. I drove the kids home, met with the girls to do my scarf shopping, and planned to go to the hair dresser’s for some pampering! Dee claimed she needed to shop for a very specific top in order to stall, and Mayo was about to buy a hideous golden belt just to keep me distracted. We went to shops we never shop in and poor Dee actually tried on a set of hideous stuff and made me laugh until I got cramps!!!!!

Not just that, they made me try an outfit and had me buy it because it looked good on me. Mayo urged me to change into that outfit so that I’d be wearing something new on my birthday. I love the outfit and I’d wear it everyday to remind me of the evening I had!

Honestly, the girls did all they could to keep me away from Condetti until everyone was there to surprise me! They even arranged with my sis to buy me some time at home so that I won’t have to be home early. Really appreciated that!

Although I take pride in my ability to connect the dots, I must say everyone did a great job yesterday distracting me that despite all the signs I just stopped suspecting anything!

I still laugh at how I stumbled on Mayo & Dee all parked and getting out of the car to beat me to Condetti and surprise me after I had supposedly left them, yet I didn't pick on it much when Dee said she had forgotten her jacket in my car (which she did)! Or parking right behind Will’s car and thinking “doesn’t will drive a similar car?!” and then shaking it off!! 2al connect the dots 2al, ya fde7ty!

I was carrying my pillowcase of a laptop and walking into Condetti aiming for the non-smoking area when I noticed how the waiters had somehow blocked my way so that I’d head for the smoking area where almost everyone was laughing while waiting for me, (did you guys scream surprise, I honestly can’t remember!!)

I saw my sisters, D, Will, Mayo & Dee and I was shaken and shivering and mumbling stuff, I can’t really remember; all I remember is that I was actually surprised and happy!

Before I noticed, either Mayo or Dee placed the Derby Hat on my head while Will was giving me my birthday gift (thanks for the perfume, you know I love!) The moment I felt the hat on my head I asked about Rasha for I’ve been nagging for God knows how long for one!!(I wore it to work today)

I sat next to my D and my body couldn’t stop shaking from all the happiness and excitement. I never knew I could shake and shiver that way out of happiness; I have only tried it when I was angry! It feels AMAZING when you’re happy!

A while later, Rasha arrived.

I sat there feeling like I couldn’t possibly be happier!

A while later A joined and I just didn’t think he was gonna make it!!

And just as I thought that was it and was about to get comfy and adjusted to the amazing surprises, Ahmed joined!!! Now Rasha, that was beyond any expectations and I was SHOCKED, in a very good way.

I couldn’t believe how sweet and friendly Ahmed was… such a nice guy!

I kept getting hot and cold episodes which made me shiver; you see, I don’t think I am used to that much happiness!! Remembering it, I can still shiver!! A kept saying I was crazy complaining about how hot then shivering!

I ended up sitting on the couch next to D leaning on her shoulder. For a while there, I sat there and watched everyone talking, joking and laughing and I secreting wondered to myself “All those people gathered to make a remarkably good day! I must have done something amazing in my life to deserve that much effort out of each and everyone one of them” I felt loved, and it felt GREAT!

Ahmed said I should say a speech!

It couldn’t be any cheesier, but it was genuine!! Yes, I had no wishes to think of, I had all I could possibly ask for, friends who were there to make me happy and who would go to such measures to do it!

That was when each wished me something. I got sweet wishes and funny wishes, and even wishes that I was promised wouldn’t come true ;) not to mention wishes that got my sis hit!

Before Ahmed left he asked me to choose a song for him to sing me on my birthday. I had too many in mind but I thought I should ask for my “feel good song”; Somewhere Beyond the Sea. And he sang it :)

And then there was my “cake”… gardal Profitrole!!!

Rasha!! You managed to orchestrate a day made of my favorite things!!! And you had such a perfect team, even the ones who couldn’t make it were amazing.

I couldn’t be happier and I seriously couldn’t be more grateful!!

You guys are leaving me speechless!! How could I possibly do the same for you? I couldn’t possibly top what you’ve done for me even if I tried!!!!!!

I am speechless… I am happy… and I am eternally grateful…

This is by all means the best birthday I’ve ever had!

THANKS!

Grateful!

2009-05-31T14:35:00.003+03:00

A year ago, I wished for something extraordinary for my birthday.

Throughout the year, I had one constant wish; get my divorce before I turn 28.

That was the gift May (the month) promised, and that’s the gift it delivered after too much anticipation. I am no longer his wife. Although I have not been his wife all through the past two years, it feels good to know that no law binds me to him anymore.

May also threw in another gift, my best friend D is back to Egypt for good. I can still remember August 2007 when I was crying my heart out because she was moving there for two years. It’s funny how I can almost cry again at the thought of her leaving me alone in the midst of all my drama; makes me twice as grateful that she’s back. Of course she’s still jet-lagging her brains off, but we have all the time to catch up.

For the first time in a long time I have no great wishes for my birthday, only small material ones like a pair of shoes I liked or some accessories I am too broke to spare money buying after my last online shopping spree (yes hints for my sisters)!

Otherwise, I am thankful that way!! I have no wish for ultimate happiness because I would like to believe that I have it in me to see the little happiness-es that come my way and help me through crappy days, and I am old enough to realize it counts for a lot more than a grand happiness disappearing due to a horrible tragedy.

So June, you can come peacefully without any promises of things getting better. Oh ok, promise me I won’t look 28, and neither will I look 30 in two years :)

I am still trying to figure out how I will spend tomorrow, I’m contemplating taking the day off and doing all sorts of things that randomly come to mind. I wish I could see all my friends at the same time, but my friends are too diverse to gather in one place and have fun, so I will just make myself time with each at a time... it's actually good because this way I get to expand my birthday to more than just one day ;)

Tomorrow I turn 28, and I have enough good things in my life that make up for the not so good ones!

This year, no birthday blues for a change :)

A not so welcomed déjà vu!

2009-05-30T00:13:00.004+03:00

Listening to Nina Simone’s strong deep blue voice, I lay in bed as I try to recall the day and figure out what it was that got to me that way.

So what? I spent yet another day unable to avoid him as we took the boys to the pool. As usual, he tried to say and do all the things that he knows get under my skin and I pretended not to be bothered as I shot back my share of insults at his character. Pretty much an average Friday out with him!

I am grateful to how he keeps ensuring me that I made the right decision choosing to leave him, but I wish I never had to see him again and I honestly wish my kids didn’t need a father. I feel like I did something horrible bringing them into this world with such a person, he doesn’t deserve them or the way they love him! Touché!

I keep remembering everything trying to point my finger at what shook me so hard…

We drove by so many places that held not so pleasant memories; it made me more receptive to his attempts to ruin my mood. Or was it the other way around; perhaps he he said or did something that made me receptive to remembering all those bad memories!

He was mean to her on the phone. I don’t feel the least bit sorry for her. He said he was into someone else now, someone new! It made him see how he doesn’t want to be with her.

He made me hear him talk to her as he implied those meanings so bluntly and so coldly… and I remembered. I remembered the resemblance between the way he talked to her and the way he talked to me, I remembered.

I didn’t feel sorry for her, but I felt sorry for me, all over again! And I hated the way I felt back then, and I hate it now twice as much.

Later, on our way home he said he was not in love with the new one. He said he was drawn to her because she was “angelic” and that he knew she’d make a good wife. He said he knew he wouldn’t have her outside of a marriage. It sounded familiar.

I found myself those words when he asked me what I thought of it all “you don’t deserve angelic, if she is really as good as you say, then I hope she sees you for who you are soon enough, lest you will only ruin her chances of having a good life with someone who actually deserves her… otherwise, I just hope she’s like you”

Yeah that’s probably it; he ruined my chances as well as my kids’.

I wish him no happiness and no peace for he simply denied me mine.

One Fine Day

2009-05-27T01:06:00.002+03:00

A couple of days ago, I posted that there were certain thing I was looking forward to and things I wished for among the Eight Tag. Little did I know that I would get some of those on the same day!!

Behold people, some joy for a change…

I took a day off, which would pretty much count as a vacation from everything. The fact that it was one day made it easier to dodge my mommy responsibilities for a while since the boys are ususally at the nursery during my working hours.

I met with Rasha, had coffee and breakfast, a few hours later, we went to the pool and spent the rest of the working day.

The hours just flew! Yet, I am grateful for every single minute…

Grateful for the time off from my daily routine…

Grateful for the early walk…

Grateful for the breeze brushing my hair and for actually releasing those curls where there was sun and air!

Grateful for Turkish coffee that helped me up all through the day…

Grateful for the tan (and I am so willing to go for more)

But most of all, grateful for the amazing company! Rasha, you ROCK!

Aaaaaand, today my car got some maintenance while I was getting mine :)

We kaman, my physiotherapist said my back was MUCH better alhamdulilah, and he actually seemed to mean it; he said it without that cynical indifferent tone of his! He said I should do more walking and go for swimming!!

Oh oh oh, and I think soon enough I will get to the whole hair-coloring thing, Rasha helped me decide on the color!

May is wrapping up nicely and sending me off to my birthday with a smile :)

I know it’s greedy, but I can’t help but hope for a good dream as I go off to bed in a while… we 3ala ra2y B “elly yela2y dala3 wala yeddala3sh….”

Anyway, sweet dreams or not, I am grateful… الحمد لله

Ignorance and Prejudice, two sides of the same coin!

2009-05-24T10:00:00.005+03:00

That happened around three weeks ago, and it popped into my mind today as I was driving to work. I just had to rant about it before it festered and gave me emotional poison!

“you know them, you know how they think 7egab is bee2a” said by my good friend of 16 years!

She’s been married for a while now, her husband is more on the religious side than her mother’s family; he had asked her not to wear swimwear where men could see her and not have her hair cut by men. He also said he’d love it if she gets veiled but he’d never really ask her to do it because it’s her decision.

She started dressing rather modestly; no more shorts or sleeveless tops to put his mind at ease. Her mom noticed how she’s been dressing up so differently and told her point black “enty mesh hatet7ageby, mayenfa3sh, ana olt mesh hatet7ageby”.

She was telling me how she wants to get veiled to please her husband and to stop her family from asking why she no longer swims when they go to the beach, but she’s dreading their reaction because they think veil is not classy!!

It actually felt a slap to my face in so many ways! Not from my friend, I know where she stands from veil; I know she respects it but just doesn’t think she’s ready to wear it. She’s one of the most tolerant people I’ve known and most of our mutual friends are veiled… hell, I am veiled and I know she proudly refers to me as her best friend.

I just resented her family twice as much as I already did. Those people have been pressuring her into a life style she was never able to keep up with because they view everything religious as “bee2a”! I am not saying they’re ill mannered or generally unethical; all I am saying is that the only way they’d positively judge a “religious” group of people would be if they were filthy rich, but in a classy way, whatever that’s supposed to mean!!

I’ve always known her mom never liked me because she first heard of me when I had gotten veiled; you see, tant lived away from my friend to make the money which she keeps bringing up whenever they quarrel, so she never had the chance to know about her school friends!

Yes, I am being judgmental because that woman had done nothing to make her daughter’s life easier except send money and then rub it in her face!! Yes, I am being judgmental of that same classy woman who kicked her own daughter more than once for the most trivial of reasons! The woman didn’t even see that my bee2a veil had never influenced her kid in anyway, that her daughter and I manage to go out together and have fun despite how different our attire is! How shallow can one be?!

And don’t get me started on her brother! I’ve stumbled on the guy so many times and he never recognized me, not that I'd stop and say hi! To him, I am invisible. Of course I didn’t make it easier for him to recognize me because my defense mechanism had picked up on his prejudice and I ignored him back twice as much.

The same guy –to whom people refer as sociable and friendly- had small talk with the x when he met him in a business presentation because the x drives an expensive car and does the “classy guy” talk (Rasha, please try to not throw up!). When he told him he was Inso’s husband, the guy sat there trying to put a face next to the name and he couldn’t until the x said “your sister's best friend”, and I bet even then he didn't remember my face. I asked my friend if her bro had actually met the x and she laughed and said “you know my bro, he’d talk to an ass wearing a brand and driving an expensive car - he is sort of the ass who wears a brand name and drives an expensive car, only he’s my brother and I love him, and of course if he was trying to land a deal with your ass of an x, he’d be even nicer!”

Now, I am not judging people who do not practice religion; I am not the best practice-r by any means, I don’t even consider myself religious enough. What’s pissing me off is the ignorance and the prejudice over something that’s supposedly no one’s business! I’ve known people who live in the least “religious” ways, yet somehow have it in them to respect those who practice their faiths! I know of atheists who remind their religious friends of prayers! It’s called tolerance!

And for whatever it’s worth, I resent the idea that hegab is in anyway not classy! I mean, I believe I dress nicely, and I am very particular about how my scarves match what I wear not just color-wise, but also style-wise and fabric-wise! When H got veiled and people asked her why she did it, she said “I always thought of wearing it, but I was held back by the thought that it would be hard to dress as nicely once I get veiled, but seeing who Inso does it so easily, it made me feel silly for ever thinking that way”

I won’t say that all my friends do not wear hegab, but I will sure as hell say that I have friends who do not wear it whom I love and respect for who they are, not what they choose or do not choose to wear!! We like/dislike people based on their personalities and how they treat us, it is that simple, and why do people insist on complicating it?!

And again, it is always those people; the ones who are always speaking religion, or those who are always blabbering about liberalism! AGAIN, you guys suck!

And to my dearest friend, do not wear hegab just yet; I think you should only wear it when you’re not worried about any reactions be it the happy husband or the mad mother, brother and aunt! Either way, you’re a beautiful person who makes my world a much better place and that will not change.

Eight… off the top of my head!

2009-05-24T01:06:00.003+03:00

Too many people tagged me, and I just can’t ignore it anymore!

My answers are random and in no specific order.

Knock yourselves out!

Things I’m looking forward to…

1- A vacation… not just from work, but also from all my responsibilities
2- A recovery from my disc… I can almost hear my physiotherapist’s laugh!
3- D’s return to Egypt… should have put that one first since it’s the soonest and most likely to happen :)
4- Re-decorating my room… I still haven’t gotten to that, ya mossahel!
5- The raise I was promised at work… R said it was expected by June; however, I am not sure if it really happened or it was one of my work-related dreams!
6- Meeting with some of the gals from my old work… they’re shaken up about my divorce!
7- More friends visiting from the states, and my friend from Canada…
8- Enrolling my Beem in sport/music classes or both!

Things I did yesterday

1- Took the kids to the pool with their dad… my mocha is such a kitten!
2- Held myself back from swearing at the x for bringing tanning oil instead of sunscreen for the boys!
3- Had to endure his singing along with Esseily’s new CD (what is that load of crap btw?)
4- Finally told him to stop having small talk that involved his girlfriends and acquaintances…
5- Talked to a friend… (or was that the day before??!)
6- Met with a friend… who actually made it early, luckily so did I!
7- Ate yoghurt with coconut… that’s actually something since I hate milk and I’m not a big fan of yoghurt!
8- Felt sleepy all of a sudden to the extent that I asked baby sis to come tuck me in, switch on the a/c, switch off the lights, and close the door because I could barely get out of bed!

Things I wish I could do

1- Feel fresh air brushing through my hair…
2- Travel to Turkey and Lebanon for a week and do things my way…
3- Have my own personal time to do what I want without ignoring my kids… perhaps when they grow up a bit
4- See those I love who are no longer there… I would settle for dreaming of them
5- Have the guts to color my hair!
6- Stop stress-eating
7- Walk on daily basis
8- (there is something I had in mind and I know it was BIG, only I can’t remember it! Barakatak yally fe baly!)

Shows I watch

1- Grey’s Anatomy… I HATED their season finale, makanetsh talbaha ghamm!
2- Private Practice… I don’t even want to comment on the last episode I’ve watched!
3- Frasier… I’m in S08 now and enjoying :)
4- Dirty Sexy Money… Anyone knows if there will be a S03 and when??
5- Everybody Loves Raymond… Just downloaded all eight seasons and plan on watching them once I’m done with Frasier
6- Sex and the City… I am contemplating downloading the seasons I never watched and catch up, just not sure if I want to!
7- Scrubs… I finished all eight seasons :)
8- I think that was too much TV already!

Things I like

1- Flowers… cliché I know, but I can’t help it
2- Jazz… nothing is as uplifting!
3- Hanging out with friends… best mood booster ever!
4- My boys when they’re quiet and cuddly… they’re just amazingly cute!
5- The scent of vanilla and that of Turkish coffee… that’s basically why I always have vanilla splash in my purse and must have Turkish coffee at least once a day!
6- Horses… I just can’t get over how beautiful those creatures are!
7- Movies about previous centuries, of course given that they are good productions and acting!
8- Profiterole… we ba7ebek aw ya rasha for getting me some akher marra!

Things I dislike (I decided to add that one instead of tagging eight people since everyone is being tagged... AND I had the urge to share the things I dislike that kept coming to mind while doing the tag)

1- Going to doctors’… I really like my physiotherapist but I still hate going
2- Yelling at my kids… I do that a lot recently!
3- The scent of pesticides… mama rashet 3ashan el naml!
4- Ignorance and lack of responsibility… I just came from the club and people are just… frustrating!
5- Police officers, and specifically the high-ranked pieces of shit who stand in the streets and terrorize people, 2al eh beynazamo el moroor! *insert sheteema*
6- Being asked to do favors… I believe I should do things because I feel like it, not because someone asks me!
7- Standing in lines… and I just hate when someone tries to stand in front of me, I become a complete b****
8- Family obligations… keyword “obligations” not “family”!

We kol tag wento tayebein!

On death, compassion, and things better left unsaid…

2009-05-20T11:31:00.003+03:00

This post might make me seem heartless and cruel. Speaking about death usually makes me sound heartless and cruel, but it could have to do with my upbringing and how somehow I learned in the process that death is something we don’t talk about, it is something we should rather learn to deal with and accept, eventually. I understand it is only true as far as I am concerned and that it does not apply to other people.

Some relatively long time ago, when my nana died (Allah yer7amha), I didn’t cry because I thought it was better for her to pass away rather than live an non-dignifying life with the paralysis that left her unable to move or speak or even recognize any of us at some point. She was a strong woman who deserved to die with her pride and dignity intact, or so I believed.

Around a year after her death, my uncle (who had just turned rather a bit more religious) was talking to me about someone’s death, I don’t remember who exactly, but I remember saying that a short death is much better than a prolonged one. My uncle argued that the prolonged death is sometimes better for the person because it’s a way for them to repent and pray for Allah swt, as well as it is for those around them to earn thawab for taking care of them. He said I was blinded by my pride and life-related calculations, while the bigger picture is about humility, thawab and takfeer zonoob!

That was when I mourned my late nana (Allah yer7amha). That was when I kept praying that the suffering before her death was counted for more thawab and that all her zonoob were repented already. That was when I found myself wishing she had more humiliation in life for the sake of a better eternity. Oh well.

Still until now, death baffles me. it shocks me beyond my ability to cry and it paralyses my tongue from saying the right prayers for the people I know are dear to my heart.

Uncle A died around three years ago, I cried from the shock even though I knew he was terribly sick. I cried his loss; that such a good person was taken from such a horrible life leaving it one good person less, until I went to his wake. Seeing how strong his family was holding up, seeing how peaceful things were where he had once been, it made the peace seep through my soul. And later, I had a very good dream of him, a dream that meant a lot as my mom told me later. May he rest in peace.

Last month when Dr. Magdi died, I was shaken so hard. It was probably the shock of losing him so suddenly and unexpectedly, especially at a time when I relied on him to feel better about all that was going wrong in my life. I cried so hard -to my own surprise- over someone whom I barely knew, yet had such a positive impact on my life. I didn’t want to stop crying over him because it was the only way I could hold on to his memory; until I realized that I had special memories of him to hold on to, things I needed to remember for my own well being. And so I let him go with my prayers.

Two days ago when S passed away, it was another anticipated tragedy. She was badly sick and I knew she was dying after 5 years of fighting cancer that kept re-attacking more viciously one time after the other. I tried to use my previously learned lesson about death to not collapse or cry, I tried to find the right prayers for her, but I just couldn’t. Tears just fell silently without any control when I pictured her walking around us like she always did, right there while I was at her wake. I kept murmuring “Allah yer7amha” and I kept thinking of how amazing she was, and it made me smile even through the tears. Her strength will be missed, but her beautiful spirit will always be there in my head reminding me of all the things she used to tell me.

It could be that I lost a few good people whom I mourn on daily basis as little things in life remind me of them or when their memory just lingers in my heart. But hearing about the president’s grandson dying didn’t get to me at first. It may make me seem heartless like I mentioned, but when you had just lost an idol to death, hearing that someone you simply do not like had lost someone dear to him doesn’t touch you, you find your angry self (at death, life and all the people in it) murmuring “so what, people lose loved ones every day and they hurt and ache and their lives are forever scarred that way”.

No, I didn’t instantly feel any sympathy because in my head that man never had any sympathy for the pain people go through on daily basis; pain I can almost taste when I deal with people until I forget about it once I go by with my own daily concerns. Not to mention the agony and fear caused by the injustice and abuse that you hear of happening to othe people and thank God on daily basis that it is not yet your turn to be that kind of victim and fear the day when you will be.

Until I saw the photo, a family photo one of my FB friends posted with the little kid, the father, the uncle, and the grandparents. It completely changed how my heart felt and I instantly found myself aching. I couldn’t see people I didn’t know or care for; I saw my own son, and my parents surrounding him with their happy faces and I felt my heart clenching had it been my boy who was taken.

And that is compassion, the kind of compassion you feel without any control, the kind of compassion that makes you human, it makes you able to sympathize with people for whom you would normally feel no sympathy. The kind of compassion that makes you feel for people for their own loss rather than refrain from feeling because you’re judging them for their actions that you condone.

But like death, compassion is not something you should talk about, at least not in my book. You don’t walk around parading those human feeling you have just like you don’t walk around parading the tears you cried over a loved one lost to death. You say those things with a low tone of voice because they are supposed to come from the heart and they are not supposed to be for show; they lose their meaning that way.

So watching the Amr Adeeb segment on u-tube, the one with him urging the people to support the grieving family and reminding them of all the good that family did and make it sound like the people owed them that compassion, it made me angry. Sorry, but he was more like beating compassion out of them. Compassion is not something you feel because you’re asked to, and you never feel it out of gratitude, especially if gratitude is barely due!

To me, it sounded like nothing short of a cheap attempt to suck up by using a painful tragedy; if not, then it was just plain rude and insensitive, to all people including the president and his family; because if I were them, I wouldn’t like someone to beg others to feel sorry for my loss and support me.

I was not going to comment about that, or the tragedy of losing a grandchild for that matter out of my respect to the tragedy itself, and out of my own belief that such things are rather private.

Until I was provoked by reading an email a guy on the cultural group I’m in sent as a letter to the mourning grandfather. That letter reeked with pretense and lacks substance, and who the hell is that person and who died an made him in charge for him to say “Mr. President, I address you today not on behalf of the people but on behalf of myself, not as a citizen but as a human being…”! Speak for yourself man, and don’t trivialize other people’s feelings by implying that your words are good enough for them, especially when those words are not even proof-read!

Sometimes “el baqa2 l’Ellah” and “enna l’Ellah wa enna elayhi rage3oon” is much more eloquent than big phrases that give compassion a bad name.

Another good one gone!

2009-05-17T22:54:00.001+03:00

She died yesterday.

Her death was not sudden; it was rather anticipated, or perhaps even awaited in hopes of her relief. The cancer had attacked again for the third time and this time it was more aggressive and vicious, and her body was already drained by the previous chemotherapy and radiotherapy to which she had been suggested the first two times around.

I called her the day I got my divorce; I was really happy and I wanted to share it with her. I knew she spent her weekends in Maadi and we’ve always said we’d meet at the weekend. Hearing her frail voice, I could say but “kont 3ayza ashoofek bas sootek ta3ban, kalemeeny when you feel better we hageelek 3ashan enty wa7shany” she responded “enty kaman ya habibty wa7shany, enty kowayesa?” I told her I was doing great, but I didn’t want to tell her the news on the phone; she would have needed to see my face to know for sure that I was ok and she sounded too exhausted.

Hanging up, I couldn’t help but cry! I mumbled something about how I don’t know if I will see her before she was gone. I am not psychic; it’s just that she was really sick.

Hearing the news today, I didn’t flinch, at least not at first. I quietly changed from white to black, dropped the kids off at the nursery, went to work and informed my boss that I’d leave for a funeral midday. I told a couple of people and I still couldn’t cry; death usually takes me some time to grasp and react.

I parked in the same street where I once visited to give her my condolences for her mother’s death. As I got off the car I saw one of the guys I worked with, I yelled his name and asked him where the mosque was, and he pointed and I went there.

My whole body started shaking when I saw the box that carried her coffin, and before I knew it, I started crying, it was as if I was seeing her for the last time, only I couldn’t. I saw Shery on the sidewalk with some other girl crying and sobbing, so I went to her, I know she’s the weaker one, I know S always worried about her and always asked me to “akhaly baly 3aleiha”. She saw me, and she collapsed in my arms and she kept saying “she’s gone” and I couldn’t stop myself from crying.

I sat there at the mosque completely out of my element; I don’t think I was even paying that much attention during dhuhr prayer or during salat el gha2eb.

S collapsed again as she saw the men carrying the coffin back to the car, I couldn’t watch I looked the other way and tried to soothe S. needless to say I failed miserably.

I didn’t know anyone but the people I worked with, I didn’t even know what her daughter looked like and I felt awkward giving her my condolences when she never met me; what would I tell her, your mom was my safety, she was an inspiration for me to be as strong as I never thought I’d be. Words would really fail to describe the things she represented to me, and words would not convey how I felt about her.

Goodbye strong one, you were a tree in every sense of the word, you stood up high for every one of us, and you were just amazing at it! You will always be remembered and missed, may you rest in peace.

Random blabber on a hectic week!

2009-05-14T16:32:00.003+03:00

I am finishing off one hell of a crazy crazy week!

My boss told me a month ago that our company will be an exhibitor in some event and that I’d be “mas7oola” but I didn’t believe it, basically because all maters were supposedly arranged by the HO, which made it seem like all I had to do is dress up and look pretty! But Nooooooo!

Luckily I had a good Saturday afternoon to prepare me for that, I met up with Slop, Sou, IQ and Ma 3alina and actually had the healthiest meal until today!

So back to the madness; here are some quick and random stuff from the week…

Guys do PMS! I don’t care how many guys out there will yell at me for it, but dudes, FACE IT! You do PMS on regular basis, or as Mayo says “between each cigarette and the other”! The scary part is that you do it without our “crazy hormones”! You think you have God’s given right to lose your temper just because you’re “under stress”, which is by the way the same kind of stress people around you are dealing with! That’s what I had in mind when my colleague was behaving like a total prick; I wanted to tell him “ma testargel showaya” but I realized it would give him more right to whine and bitch without trying to actually fix things! Anyways, I gave it to him bad, real bad. That’s what one gets for giving me the wrong kind of treatment. PMSing dudes, you’ve been warned.

Walking in Nasr City malls with a Gulfie man is not something any woman should do, especially if we’re asking for table cloth at shops that sell newlyweds kinda stuff. VERY BAD IDEA! I realized that when I got “the look”; it was awkward and very embarrassing that I asked my colleague to wait in the car and let me handle things! And dear fellow Egyptians, you really have it in you to behave like pimps, more than you would like to admit!

VIPs are overrated. If I am to develop any prejudices, I would make it about VIPs or hotshots, and especially the people who follow them around and make such a big fuss about their presence; they make you forget that they’re just humans! THEY ARE HUMANS. Sadly, we make strong symbols out of them and associate mostly negative feelings to them because no one hates to feel unimportant, yet we all do in comparison.

On the other hand, there are people who work with/for those hotshots who are as sweet and decent as you may never really guess. I have managed to talk to about 4 of those and I got better treatment than I expected. I realize they were mostly nice to me because my name was associated with my boss’s and he’s one popular man (whom I am crazy about). Nonetheless, some people can still be stiff and arrogant, those people simply were not!

Oh, and did I mention, my boss is such an amazing man, and for that I am eternally grateful. He makes sure I am not being abused by my colleagues, he gives me credit for everything I do, and he thanks me for it. I guess this sort of makes up for the rotten deal I got on the husband! Oh, I meant X-husband ;)

I am proud of my Kov ;)

And that guy from last week’s audit emailed me yesterday thanking me for my great assistance! I was really grateful someone was that nice! Does that by any chance mean that I have become cynical due to being taken for granted and subjected to emotional abuse?

Yesterday, the physiotherapist said my back seemed significantly better, despite the exhaustion, the leg crossing, and the painful heels!!! He said I needed to do my exercises more seriously though because my muscles are still too weak! And who falls asleep during a session, certainly not an insomniac! Anyways, disc or not, I think my pain has to do with my mood; yesterday I was dead tired but generally in a good mood and there was no pain; however, today, the x managed to piss me off and before I knew it I was stress-eating and my back was killing me!

Finally, I outed myself on FB today… this is how my status message reads “…is divorced and for whatever it's worth, there are no negative feelings associated except for the waste of 9 good years! so yes, divorced and proud of it, so to speak!”

And now, I go home and sleep!

A Quick Reflection…

2009-05-10T15:16:00.001+03:00

Yesterday, I decided to go to bed really early since I have one hell of a busy week ahead of me. I normally don’t have any before-bedtime rituals, but for some reason I lingered in front of my dresser.

Something about my messy curls made me decided to take a longer look and fix my hair. Untying my hair band I didn’t feel like brushing the curls loose, so I just fixed it with my hand and kept observing my face.

I looked different… I admit I had a glow about me, a glow I haven’t seen in such a long time!

For the first time in years, I looked at my face and felt pretty! I liked how almost round my face looked although round is not how anyone would describe my face. I liked how especially pink my cheeks were even though I blush as a reflex action to happiness, anger, excitement, heat, embarrassment, and you name it! Most of all, I liked how bright and shiny my eyes were.

Yes, despite all the inconveniences and my childish reaction towards them, I had it in me to be happy!

I washed my face, prayed, and jumped into bed.

Although my body was beat, my spirit was rather too high for me to fall asleep right away.

Without noticing, I found myself daydreaming… and that was when it hit me! I don’t even remember the last time I daydreamed!!! ME! I usually daydream 3ala roo7y!! That was when I realized that I have been swallowed up in all the stress, anxiety and drama to the extent that my subconscious gave up on daydreaming and crippled my imagination.

A big smile made its way to my face, visions of people and places kept flowing through my mind so smoothly; millions of happy scenarios and millions of imaginary possibilities that somehow made my spirit calm as if some invisible arms were holding me safe. And before I knew it, I was sound asleep, no insomnia!

I can hear my cynical self telling me I am digging my own grave with all those dreams; building up expectations and hopes over things that I can’t control! Who cares, I am happy for now, and as for my daydreams, nothing is carved on stone here.

And I'm Feeling Good!

2009-05-07T22:36:00.008+03:00

I am free

And I'm Feeling Good

الحمد لله

2009-05-07T17:32:00.001+03:00

I was granted the divorce.

I still can’t find the words to describe my happiness, but I assure you all, I AM HAPPY :)

I thought i'd be able to say all the words that would describe how I feel, but all I can say now, is I am free, I am happy, alhamdulilah :)

ALHAMDULILAH

Allahuma eg3aloh kheir…

2009-05-07T09:39:00.002+03:00

I went to bed after midnight.

I woke up somewhere before salat el fagr because my face was itching me like hell to find that one of my babies left some candy wrapper on the pillow and it was driving my skin crazy. I washed my face with cold water and made a mental note to pray if I stay up until I hear the azan.

I didn’t wake up, at least not until I had that dream. Part of that dream had to do with my company having an exhibition next week and that we will start working on related arrangements starting the weekend.

I walk into the office to find a florist whom I have never seen before giving the driver and the office boy instructions on how to help him with the flower arrangements they were preparing for an after-exhibition gathering at out premises.

I see beautiful white cala lilies (you know the ones with yellowish insides) and he was telling them they look great with vanilla flowers (pale yellow, and extremely beautiful, I never knew vanilla flowers were involved in such flower arrangements!!)

So I stand there completely overwhelmed at the sight of those beautiful flowers and I keep trying to inhale all their aromas and savor them in my nostrils.

I ask the office boy to make my office arrangements with those, and he tells me alright and asks me to check the other kinds of flowers they left in my office.

I walk in to find three beautiful flower pots which had not yet been mixed or arranged; one containing orchids (ORCHIDS!!!) and the other two containing some sorts of exotic flowers, the really colorful kind!

That when I lean forward towards the flower as if to hug them (I actually do that with flowers in real life) and keep sniffing them so happily.

Ahem, I woke up with one side of my nostrils blocked, but I had one big dumb smile on my face. It was already around 6:30. I could see the sunlight coming through the window but I was too lazy to move, so I just turned on my other side and continued sleeping while murmuring “alhamdulilah”.

My kids woke up in a good mood today. I prayed, wore a purple top and my charm pendant! Later I remembered what Dr. Magdi said about the Color purple and how it signifies spirituality! Anyway… I want to remain that positive, I need it, especially that today is the birthday party the nursery is throwing my Mocha.

Oh oh, and my feel good song played in the car and I kept singing and teaching my Beem the lyrics. It was Robbie Williams’ Beyond the Sea... I wanted to leave you with the version performed by Kevin Spacey since it definitely puts a smile on my face, but since I couldn't, the one by Robbie Williams will do, I like its music more!

eh el suspense da!

2009-05-06T13:43:00.002+03:00

I just called my dad...

He said I won't know until tomorrow because they announce the verdict after all sessions scheduled for today, and that it won't be public until tomorrow morning when he sends someone to check it.

Alternatively, I could drive to el tgamo3 el khames and wait until they finish sessions and wait up hoping they would actually tell me.

I feel like crying... oh, and my back is KILLING ME... I think I got too tense to the extent that I heard a cracking sound...

All I want now is to go home and sleep it all off until someone finds out and wakes me; I just can't stand the anxiety anymore!

El Sabr!

Pretending not to count the minutes!

2009-05-06T10:05:00.002+03:00

Today is the ruling on my divorce case, the verdict of the appeal for which there was a hearing last February. No closings and no words to be said, not even lawyers to attend; the verdict will just be written somewhere and my dad will have someone read it and tell him on the phone.

I have been counting down the days, but now I can’t seem to be able to count the hours or the minutes for I have no idea at what time I will be getting the news.

Waking up today, I didn’t even want to leave bed or go to work. I wished I could sleep off the whole day until they’d wake me up to tell me. I wanted to tell them to never wake me if I did not get the divorce. But I have work to do, work that can’t be postponed.

I’m scared…

What if the judge is too prejudiced against divorce?

What if the judge decided I am just another spoilt brat who does not deserve to be granted her freedom like the one before him did?

What if he believed that having kids is a good enough reason to stay in a dead-end marriage with a husband who for all the judge knows did not try to reconcile since the first ruling?

I am scared…

I don’t want one more hour of my life wasted, not that I have a clue what to do with my life once this is over. I have spent enough time without making any plans for when it’s over because I was afraid it would keep dragging and those plans would keep falling apart.

Through the past couple of weeks, I’ve been trying to distract myself by doing all sorts of things I wouldn’t normally do. I actually had my back pain checked to think of something other than the tiring anticipation, I go to the physiotherapy session to drown the pain I have in my head by the pain my muscles.

Meanwhile, his attitude is keeping me worried; he subtly hints that it won’t be over yet, he hints it with a sure tone that shakes me so hard as I try to control my facial reactions. He tries every worn out tactic to get under my skin, and I’m ashamed he succeeds although I am aware of those tactics.; he just knows too much about the memories I try so hard not to remember.

I just want that chapter of my life over and done with so that I can put all those bad memories in a box, lock the damn box and burry it somewhere, and throw the key somewhere else, and never find either again.

I am scared the judge won’t end that chapter today.

يا رب

The obscene post…, aw bema3na assa7, el post el abee7!

2009-05-03T12:41:00.003+03:00

This is the first post I ever write with the intent of being obscene. Usually, people who know me say I sound funny when I curse, and they have seen first hand how I can’t contain laughter when people start using language in front of me. My sisters on the other hand are more used to my aba7a and it sort of offends them when I am angry and cursing, this is one of those times!

And here is why...

I drive be adab and I got 1160 EGP mokhalfat, while everyone I know who does all sort of mokhalfat got less than 50 EGP!!!! Mesh moshkela, zeka 3an se7ety el kharbana….

Laken da keteer…

Ya3ne ya welad el *teeeeet* I lived in maadi all my f***in’ life, even school and college were in maadi, even my first years of marriage were in maadi, I only moved out of it for the worst three years of my marriage!!!

You do not even know which moroor I belong to with my zamalek address, some say 3ataba and some say boulaq… we sanya wa7da ba2a, eh elly gab el zamalek le esm asr el neel le boulaq wala el 3ataba ya bahayem ya welad el bahayem!!!

We ghayartelko om el zeft el 3addad we ba2aly esboo3 mesh baroo7 el zeft el shoghl because I am pre-occupied with all the shit in my life on top of which my almost expired car registration! And I actually went with my smiling decent attitude despite how exhausted i was, only to be told I should use that document to change my ID address to Maadi, i got over my embarrassment and explained that I can’t change my ID back to maadi because there is a zeft ongoing divorce case for the last two years and that ba2aly sanateen back in my original residence!!!!!!!

And ok, I get that there are rules and order and that they’re there for a reason, bas seriously ba2a, *TEEEEEEEEEEET*, the f***in’ rules only apply on people like me who respect them, but those who ignore and defy them get away with it!!!!

The x, who happens to claim that he has license plates of mokhabarat (aslan the fact that such thing exists is appalling) did not know how to drive when he had his driver’s license… yeah motawaqa3 eno bel wasta, bas 3ala fekra ba2a makanetsh wasta; it was in exchange of two packs of Viagra (3ameto mowazafet wezaret el se77a el mo7tarama wakhdahom tazbeet men mandoob mabe3at Pfizer so that Pfizer would get chosen on another drug deal) and some sexual performance enhancing vitamins!!!! Which concludes that mowazafeen el moroor are basically some impotent bastards who abuse drugs!

And FYI, I did earn my friken diver’s license because my righteous dad refused to call any of his friends since he believes that people’s lives (whom I might jeopardize if I drive without knowing how) are worth a lot more than the hours I’d spend in el moroor sweating my heart out! And I f***in’ drive better than nos regallet masr awelhom el *teeet* betoo3 el moroor elly *teeet*

Asfa geddan 3al aba7a, I will probably delete this post once I read it after I calm down and feel extremely ashamed of myself!!!

Therapy Reflections

2009-04-30T22:54:00.001+03:00

I was filling an application orally; I instinctively said “divorced” when asked about my marital status! El farag men 3andak YA RABBBB

While asking me to fill the rest of the application, the doctor couldn’t contain the surprise when he knew I was a mother of two; he said I was too young. It felt great to hear that. I said I was old enough to be a mother of two, he re-checked my birth date and insisted that I was young. I never think I look young but I just love hearing it! (I have issues that way)

The session was painful, to both my body and my mind. I never had that kind of therapy before and I didn’t really know what to expect. I didn’t acknowledge any of the physical pain I was feeling because I was trying to process whether it’s normal and expected to feel that way, or was it because I was sick, or was I just being a sissy!

“are you ok in there?” he asked, he was certain I was in pain

“no, it kinda hurts” I said, then I paused to reluctantly add “awy!!”

I don’t know… I sensed relief in his tone as I showed him where I was hurting, as if he thought it was strange that I didn’t scream in pain as expected. I didn’t want to scream in pain, I felt it, I screamed so loud in my head, but I contained it. I think my stubbornness to acknowledge the pain (as my friend refers to it) made him push harder.

He said my body was too weak, that particular area that hurt.

I don’t know, call me vain, but I always considered myself physically strong. I was brought up like a guy; my dad would sort of wrestle, and he used to have me carry my own luggage and help him with his as well as everyone else’s whenever we traveled.

Being told my body was too weak, I was reminded of the other two times I felt inadequate that way, the other two times when I felt my body failed me… pregnancy and labor. I was instantly reminded of my helplessness during the end of my pregnancy, and my crying in the hospital bed because I hated the pain and I hated having to feel it.

“relax, don’t resist and don’t help, just let go and relax”

I laughed… if only it were up tom me!

Would someone bother explaining!

2009-04-29T15:43:00.002+03:00

So I already realize people do not respond to me and that I am not in charge of making sure they behave up to my liking.

That being said, would anyone care to explain the following so that I’d stop obsessing and move on…

First, here are the facts that apply to me…

I do not know how to ask for favors, and even if I did, I HATE it… it’s really hard to ask favors even from those I love and cherish…

When my friends, even those who are not close enough ask for favors, I automatically do them without even recognizing them as favors; I only recognize them that way because it’s the word they use when they ask for stuff. I personally don’t believe that I am capable of favors; they are usually trivial stuff I think anyone other than me can do, so why not do them as long as they’re not much trouble for me, I am not a hero!

As for those I do not like, they are more or less eliminated from my calculations when I want stuff; I only think of whatever obstacles they might cause out of their utter dislike of me. Bottom line, I make sure I burn bridges with those I don’t like at all, and I am hundred percent sure I will never look back and wish I hadn’t; I am not a believer of “اللي ماتحتاجش اناهردة وشه، يمكن بكره تحتاج قفاه”, I’d rather die before it happens actually!

It goes without saying that I do not expect those I don’t like to ask favors of me; it doesn’t even cross my mind that it’s possible that someone who is aware of my dislike of him/her would be that delusional to think that not only am I willing to talk to them, but also I’d be willing to go out of my way to do something for them!!

Now, explain that to me…

How could people do all the things, the wrong things that would put me in the place where they are eliminated as explained above, yet have the nerve to ask favors of me!!!

Yes, I can understand that they might not like me yet have it in them to ask something of me… ok, not really understand it, but at least I know it’s possible to happen since people don’t have to do by my own code of ethics.

But to have already burnt most of the bridges, and to have done that knowingly, and then ask for things that require me to pretend nothing ever happened, and act like my usual decent and nice self (kinda), that’s beyond my understanding!!!!

The reason I am wondering...

He called saying he wants to take me and the boys to his family in Zamalek on Friday to celebrate his aunt’s birthday which is one day before Mocha’s. That way, he’d be giving them a chance to be there for Mocha’s birthday since as assumed they’re not on the invitee’s list (he barely made it himself), and to make it look like he could make me forget about the grudge I have for being kicked out and testified against!!

I just can’t believe the nerve, and neither can I find the right words to insult him for such request, which was by the way proposed as a suggestion!!!!! THE NERVE!!!

Overrated…

2009-04-21T14:24:00.003+02:00

He said “you don’t get it, it’s not my place to make any decisions; if you think about it, nothing is up to me to do for the time being”

I said “I understand, strangely enough, it is my decision but I can’t seem to make anything happen, at least not to my liking!”

He laughed “my point exactly!”

I said nothing.

I hate it when someone is that right...

I hate it even more when I am finally capable of making up my mind only to be forced to keep it to myself until it’s time.

B tells me I should learn to be patient and that patience is my ultimate lesson if anything!

B tells me to stop rushing everything and learn to sit back and live each day at a time instead of wasting my present hoping for a future that may not bring me the happiness I anticipate.

B tells me to pray for whatever is good for me and to not label it because we humans never really know what’s best for us.

B is my Zen master, my religious friend who always sets me straight when my faith weakens.

B is also right!

Problem is...

It’s much simpler for everyone to see how all I can and should do is let go, have faith and stop trying to define and understand things that are just beyond me.

All of a sudden, I have to fight my nature of trying to make sense of everything and accept the life I never really owned until so recently only to find it already a mess I cannot seem to set straight!

If I were watching a movie, I’d feel sorry for the lead actress, but in real life, I resent self pity and it makes me want to struggle harder to do the exact things I should not be doing.

My only alternative otherwise is to stop wanting to live, lose hope and wait for the day I die; because waiting for the day you live is just like waiting for the day you die, only dying is more guaranteed.

All I want to is to live, doing a few of the things I want so that when my time comes I can say I did at least one thing my way! But it looks like living is a luxury I simply can’t afford, and ironically, neither can I afford dying!

I hope B is not reading this; he’d be disappointed at me for not living up to my potential!! Turns out that my potential is among the rest of the things that are simply overrated!

Can I sleep all this out?

Will you wake me up when it’s my birthday to remind me that one more year was wasted for the sake of God knows what! Just if you do, tuck me back in to sleep off one more year. After all, what's a year? Only another thing that's overrated.

This is what I'm singing to myself...

2009-04-20T18:56:00.009+02:00

The Details in the Fabric

Calm down...

Deep breaths...

And get yourself dressed... instead Of running around

And pulling all your threads saying

Breaking yourself up

If it's a broken part, replace it

If it's a broken heart then brace it

If it's a broken heart then face it

And hold your own

Know your name

And go your own way

Hold your own

Know your own name

And go your own way

And everything will be fine

Everything will be fine

Hang on... Help is on the way

Stay strong... I'm doing everything

Hold your own

Know your name

And go your own way

Hold your own

Know your name

And go your own way

And everything, everything will be fine

Everything...

Are the details in the fabric

Are the things that make you panic

Are your thoughts results of static cling?
Are the things that make you blow

Hell, no reason, go on and scream

If you're shocked it's just the fault of faulty manufacturing.

Yeah everything will be fine

Everything in no time at all

Everything...

Hold your own

And know your name

And go your own way

Are the details in the fabric (Hold your own, know your name)

Are the things that make you panic

Are your thoughts results of static cling? (Go your own way)
Are the details in the fabric (Hold your own, know your name)

Are the things that make you panic (Go your own way)

Is it Mother Nature's sewing machine?
Are the things that make you blow (Hold your own, know your name)

Hell no reason go on and scream

If you're shocked it's just the fault (Go your own way) of faulty manufacturing

Everything will be fine

Everything in no time at all

Hearts will hold

Amen!!

I just couldn’t help myself anymore!

2009-04-17T21:32:00.002+02:00

I have no idea if my fluctuating blood pressure is ruining my mood, or is it the other way around! All I know is that I found myself having this conversation!

Him: *walking slowly behind as he was talking to her over the phone and leaving me handle the boys all on my own*
Me: *looking at him and saying in an annoyed tone* could you please help me with the boys and leave that phone for a while!
Him: *giving me attitude* I am on the phone now!
Me: you can call her in 20 minutes after we drop you off, I am too darn tired!
Him: *rather yelling* I am watching my kids and taking care of them that way, but I am on the phone!
Me: *getting too angry and making sure she hears me*you cannot yell at me that way in front of your bitch!
Him: *disbelief*
Me: *walking faster and grabbing the boys as I was getting REALLY angry for losing my temper that way*

As I was putting the football in the trunk, my son had jumped out of the car while I was closing the trunk and it was stuck. For a second there, I thought I hit his arm with the door and I freaked. Meanwhile, he was still on the phone!

Me: *yelling* BEEM edkhol el 3arabeya la teddereb ba2a!
Him: *finally wrapping up the call and coming closer* gara eh ya (my name) malek 3asabeya leh we bettala3eeh 3al walad?!
Me: *trying to contain the temper* malaksh da3wa beya khales!!!

We got into the car…

Him: *in a rather scolding tone* ya3ne enty lama teegy tetgawezy, would you like me to show such disrespect of your future husband?!!
Me: *making sure all our dialogue is in English so that the kids wouldn’t grasp much* if I am ever to get married, he’d know better than to consume that much time on the phone when I am out trying to spend time with my kids!
Him: ya3ne mateteselsh beya 3ashan ento ma3aya???
Me: tetssel da motawaqa3 menha, but you should know better than to let it take that long!
Him: and what’s with the name calling?!
Me: she’s a bitch, here, I said it again!
Him: e7termy nafsek
Me: B.I.T.C.H BITCH!! And that’s the most decent word I can think of given that she was married when she had an affair with you while you had a son and your wife was pregnant BITCH!! Otherwise, her husband wouldn’t have left her!
Him: tetkalem bera7etha, she’s my fiancé now
Me: well then, maybe you should choose between talking to her on the phone and being with my kids at the same time!
Him: telephone eh, babaky is always on the phone!
Me: my dad lived with us all our lives, he didn’t see us once a weekend!!
Him: he spends every weekend in Alex because he can’t stand….
Me: *interrupting* SHUT UP! My father is a much better man than you’ll ever be, so I don’t think it’s in your favor to even mention him…
Him: *with a VERY sarcastic tone* ok your father is a great man, I am not a great man…
Me: *with more anger than I could handle* you’re not a man, period!
Him: nazeleeny hena
Me: *pulling over* enzel

I’ve never been that rude, and I hate that it happened in front of their boys and I hate him so damn much for pushing me that far!!!

I didn’t want to ruin the day for the boys, so I took them out all day and we visited my friend H and they had so much fun with her baby. I still feel guilty nonetheless.

On a day that tried all it could to be a good one…

2009-04-16T14:29:00.003+02:00

Yesterday was such a strange day!

From 6 am to 6 pm it spelled trouble all over the place to the extent that I had decided to call it a day and sulk in bed as I waited for the day to end.

Luckily Mayo made it better by joining me on a Riff Band night at Sa2yet el Sawy…

The band played all my personal favorites, almost all of them, and I mean stuff I secretly hoped I'd listen to!!!! I only didn’t know two songs or something, and I enjoyed all of it despite my blue mood and the backache that was making it a bit painful to move with the music.

Later, Mayo made me smile even more with all the stuff she said even after I was home, and I got the chance to chat a bit with a friend. It’s fair to say the day ended nicely that way.

Even after I fell asleep, I could feel my mom getting into the room to make sure the kids and I were tucked in bed. For the first night in God knows how long, I didn’t overhear her cursing at me during my sleep; instead, I heard prayers!!

It really felt like the day was trying to make up for the mess-ups but I guess I was just too jaded…

Nonetheless, I feel grateful in a way, even for the strangeness!

A little bit of everything…

2009-04-14T12:22:00.004+02:00

This keeps happening to me lately! That someone points out –either by implying it or saying it flat out- how they find it strange that I am one person!

Scene I - Last time At Dr. Magdi’s

That girl who was trying to analyze my drawings: *looking at Dr. Magdi* dool 7ad wa7ed bas rasemhom?!!!
Him: *smiling beneath his glasses while gazing at me* aheh oddamek aheh
Her: *looking at me* enty elly rasma dool kollohom???
Me: ah
Her: they’re full of so many contradictions we feehom 7agat mokhtalefa keteera sa3b el wa7ed yela2eeha fe shakhs wa7ed!!!
Me: I guess I am moody that way!
Him: Moody bas?! *smiling even more*

I have his smile engraved in my mind, I will so miss that man!

Scene II - Driving in my car with a friend and I kept pressing ff on the ipod, I drove him mad!

Him: *grabbing the ipod* do you mind?
Me: la khales, ekhtar elly 3ayez tesma3oh…
Him: ok, lama neshoof fe eh yetseme3 *after a while* eh el 7agat el ghareeba de?
Me: hehe I know, too many stuff that can’t be in “one collection”
Him: malhomsh 3elaqa be ba3d aslan! Elly ye7awel yefham shakhseyetek mel beta3 da ye2ool ennek akeed magnoona!
Me: *laughing* howa ana akeed mesh 3a2la! But if it helps, they’re not all favorites, sometimes I download soundtracks, or a discography of an artist for whom I like a few tracks and get stuck with stuff I don’t even listen to! I don’t delete them 3ashan yemken fe yoom ab2a 3ayza asma3 7aga ma3rafhash wab2a perceptive le something I didn’t like before…
Him: tab playlist!
Me: playlisting isn’t fun, I never know what mood I’m in or what matching song I would like to hear until it plays, I only know what I don’t want to hear so i skip it, we kaman I enjoy the little surprises my ipod gives me!

I actually playlisted that day to see if I actually have a consistent genre, but it was only a smaller list of too many different genres!

Scene III - On my desk taking some notes while on the phone. My colleague walked in with some handwritten notes I had given him two days ago to review before I write a report.

Him: khody, tamam keda, just put me on the cc.
Me: ok *handing him the notes I had just written* khod dool, de el details beta3et el course elly hakhdo, we mawa3eed el classes wel mawa3eed beta3et el English proficiency test…
Him: *reading it, then looking at the notes he was just giving me* sanya wa7da, enty katba el etneen dool *holding both notes*
Me: *not even looking at him* yes
Him: (my name), bossy, it’s like they’re written by two different people!
Me: *looking at them and realizing he’s right* hehe, yeah, looks like I have multiple personality disorder or whatever any professional calligrapher would tell you!

The first notes were written in small italic letters that looked a bit cursive, while the second notes were written in rather far-apart up right letters with bigger emphasis on each letter!

And just a while ago, Rasha was commenting –out of the blue- on how strange she finds it that I can be friends with such a vast variety of personalities and like them all the same! I found it extremely funny because I had just writing this post when she sent me that msn message!!!

Looks like I am either one hell of a moody person, or I have multi personality disorder like I was telling my colleague, or I have a serious identity crisis, or I could just be a typical Gemini; too many personalities wrapped into one!

A Taste of Fear…

2009-04-09T14:09:00.004+02:00

Disclaimer: This post is grim; however, it is not about being depressed or down, it is simply me trying to find/make up reasons for the unexplainable gut feelings I have!

Due to recent events, I am shaken. I am not the same me who was there three weeks ago. I realize it is temporary, I hope it is temporary!

It started with some things the x said and did, which until now I am fully aware are only half true, only I do not know/care which half is true. Yes, he gets to me in so many ways and that fact messes me up. I tell myself it’s because we share kids and because like it or not, he was the first man in my life and I married him for love so the shock can have the effect of tides; it washes off only to revisit, may be I should be prepared for that rather than fight it.

Earlier this month, I had two panic attacks, or whatever close enough to that! I only read about panic attacks long time ago and I always thought I am very unlikely to have any given how I handle my fears. All I know is that some Sunday ago, as I was scribbling to get ready for my Art Therapy session later that day, I rushed into the meetings room and started crying! I was so afraid, I felt an obscure fear inside that I couldn’t explain; I called Rasha in the midst of my tears, until I could finally pull myself back together and go back to my desk to ask my boss for an early leave.

Later that day I went to Dr. Magdi’s (may he rest in peace), and for the first time in a long time I felt close to crying in front of strangers; you see, I have shy-tear-ducts syndrome or something! Anyway, it took Dr. Magdi around three hours to make me a bit calmer enough to smile; he suggested solutions and he reassured me that I am on the right side of things and I should not doubt that. That was the last day I met him, and for some reason I completely miss his presence; you know, the idea of knowing he’d be there if I need some more reassurance along the way. It’s such a harsh thing to lose that feeling.

Even later the same day, after being confronted by how uneasy the suggested solutions were, I collapsed into another episode of panic and tears. I was too afraid to cry in my dark room all alone; I curled in bed and called H. She did everything she could to soothe me, she even said she could come take me out only I told her it was too late and I was too tired to get dressed anyway. I was babbling so many incoherent sentences about the things I’ve been told all through the week, by my mom, by the x, by the people I know, and finally by Dr. Magdi. I say it again, H did a great job to put me back together, she reminded me all over again that it shall all work itself out if for nothing, only because I never intend harm. Thank you H dear!

I pushed my way through that week only to be provoked further by the x; that guy couldn’t be anymore creative when it comes to pissing me off, and he has such a strong leverage, my babies! I am not sure if it’s that motherly of me to say it, but I’ll do anyway; I couldn’t stand being around my kids those days. I love them too much all the time, but being around them those other days felt suffocating. Ironically how every time I feel that way one of them falls sick! It kills me inside and serves as such a painful reminder of how much I hurt when they suffer!

To end the week from hell, after I had an attempt to shake off the bad mood with Rasha, I went home to know about Dr. Magdi’s death. I’ve never cried that much so instantly over death; death usually takes me too much time to process and react! It could be that I had just received help from that man earlier that week; it could be that he died in a sudden car accident, not due to an illness with an expected death. All I know is that I’ve never realized the profound meaning of “إثر حادث اليم” until I read it in his obituary! I found it really disturbing because the other day as I was driving I was thinking how Dr. Magdi was a God-send and how I could always turn to him for mental reassurance and peace, and there was that dark thought of him dying that I instantly shunned away, only the thought became a reality too suddenly for me to process.

I woke up the morning after feeling like I just had a long painful nightmare and that perhaps things won’t be that bad. After all, the x had stopped harassing me when he called me during my episode of crying over Dr. Magdi and he behaved in a “sensitive” way to an extent. Moreover, my mom stopped harassing me when she called me at work to find me still sobbing over the same matter! I never heard my mom saying “ya 7abibty enty 7assasa awy, we ana ma3rafsh Dr. Magdi bas ana 3arfa ad eh konty betesteraya7y lama terga3y men 3andoh” I never even told her my whereabouts when I was there because I didn’t want to deal with “therapy eh we habal eh”!

I guess I cried for as long as I did because I wanted to hold on to his memory for as long as I could by holding on to my tears over losing him. I am fully and regrettably aware that given time, his place in my mind will keep shrinking until it is rarely and randomly recalled; that's the way our souls handle loss, by forgetting. I just didn't want to surrender to forgetting him so soon, or ever for that matter.

I went to Dr. Magdi’s wake the next day with a friend. My tears had already dried and I was back to my rather cold and indifferent self. I sat next to a girl who asked me if I was a student of his, I said I wasn’t and that I went to his center; she nodded and said that so did she! It was amazing how a lot of familiar faces whom I’ve seen at that center were there! That man did touch so many lives; I wish him all the peace there is!

I sat there thankful that I was neither my friend who drove me there nor Dr. Magdi’s assistant! Those two knew him much better than I did and had to deal with more issues and grief than I could possibly endure, at least not at my current state! I almost began to find tears rolling on my cheeks as I realized I was there at the church bidding that man my last goodbye! That was when my friend approached me and said we better leave now. I felt my whole body aching as we walked to where my sis was waiting to drive me home.

Three days now after the wake, I still feel the same on daily basis; I feel strange unexplainable fear in my guts! I shiver occasionally out of both fear and cold, only I am not afraid and neither am I cold! I sit with people and laugh too loud and hard about things that wouldn’t normally even make me smile! I am trying to fight the blues that are creeping into me by singing happy happy tones.

I gave my color box to my son because I couldn’t stand looking at it anymore. I won’t be coloring anymore; what’s the point if the one man who made sense of things I subconsciously said with my colors is no longer there! I will have to fight in order to find the right words and hope they will reveal a little bit more than what I am capable to say, yet remain as properly understood as I’d want them to be.

I am afraid of death in so many ways now…

I am afraid of losing the people I care about and it’s too darn painful! I have always managed to pretend like it was not likely to happen or that when it will, it will me like when my late nana died; expected and wished for to end a prolonged pain and agony, but I am aware of how devastated I was over losing her even then.

Now, I look at my dad and I want to hide in his arms and tell him to never leave me, but I am the girl who finds it emotionally hard to run in his arms as he returns from Alex every weekend!

I see my boys playing and I wish that if I am meant to die anytime, better it be soon so that they wouldn’t hurt the way I would if I lose them at any point!

I guess what scares me about death is that it is a fact that can never be dodged or postponed when it’s time; moreover, it will always be sudden and painful no matter how we anticipate it and think we're ready for it!

I always said I wanted to die young because I was afraid of growing old and incapable like my late nana. Until I had kids and then the responsibility overwhelmed me and scared me of death. I remember Dr. Magdi’s look as he said “… but the responsibility is crushing you and driving you crazy, you want to be selfish but you’re too responsible to be…” he couldn’t be more right! Now I am afraid of dying because of what could happen to my boys if I do!

I try to go back to the simple view of things; “قل لن يصيبنا الا ما كتب الله لنا” and remember my dad’s phrase “عمرك و عمر اى حد ما هيكون أحن من ربنا على عباده” I try to hold on to those two phrases and I try to hold on tighter to my faith and pray, but my prayers are irregular and they lack coherence; I murmur words without even hearing myself as I do, and it’s making me feel even more afraid!

I am not accustomed to fear, and I hate it!

Farewell…

2009-04-05T01:32:00.007+02:00

I can’t seem to stop crying!

It’s beyond me to understand why I am so overwhelmed by a loss that’s not even mine as it is other people’s!

I didn’t know him well… it would be fair to say I didn’t know him at all!

Yet he knew all about me from the slightest of things… and it touched me too deep in my soul that he found so many positive things to say when all I felt was worthlessness!

I can’t stop crying!

I remember the kind look and the calm reassuring tone…

You’re stubborn, you’re full of stubbornness; it’s where you get that strength…

Your thoughts come from within; you hear all the other voices, but you only listen to your own voice, very individualistic…

Only you’ve never belonged to yourself; you always belonged to others and that’s why you’re too self-conscious…

You’re just beginning to find out about yourself and you like it, and perhaps you should…

I say, you continue listening to your own voice and find yourself and your passion and ignore all the voices, shut them out…

I will try to remember those words, and I will make sure I say a prayer for you when I’m done remembering!

It's amazing how someone I’ve known for so little could have that much insight into my soul...

It's even more amazing someone could bring that much peace just by saying the simplest of words!

And it hurts so badly to lose that!

May you rest in peace… and may those who have known and loved you more than I do find solace in remembering all the words you’ve told them…

Update: This is a post that was written about him, it brings tears to my eyes every time I read it!

Today’s Lesson…

2009-04-03T15:43:00.003+02:00

I got in my car, so angry and determined to vent my anger at the right person. No more suppressing or pushing myself to live up to my own high expectations; I will do what anyone as angry as I am would and give that shithead a piece of the anger he so intentionally causes.

I was lost in my own thoughts and driving too fast when the traffic officer decided to stop the mainstream (where I was), to let the people in the u-turn pass. I was too fast to stop and I pushed the break-pedal so loud and I could hear the tires screeching too loud and my car off balance.

Alhamdulilah, nothing happened. I am not saying I was gonna die if I had that accident; my guess is I would have had a serious dent on the car followed by a nervous breakdown over bad things and only bad things happening to me lately!

I took it as a sign that whatever it was I was about to do was as crazy and stupid as my instincts told me, so I headed back home.

My lesson now is…

When life gives a brief moment of victory - even if a fake one-, ENJOY IT! Even if it’s on the expense of the jackasses who caused you such distress! Bask in their misery because the sad and disturbing fact is, jackasses don’t get hurt so often; even when they do, they’re so thick-skinned, they wouldn’t be half as affected as you do by the smallest of thing!

You “goodness”, or whatever it is that makes you feel bad about enjoying others’ misery will not be affected when you savor a brief moment of justice; God knows they do not come so often!

Now, next time I say I feel sorry for that piece of scum, will someone slap me on the face or hit me with a baseball bat on my stupid head and put me out of my self-inflicted misery!

Art Therapy Revelations

2009-04-02T11:24:00.016+02:00

Those were drawn through three visits to Dr. M (one amazing man!), but I didn’t get to discuss them with him until earlier this week. Although those were not discussed in the same order, I’d rather discuss them in the same order I drew them.

01- A Weekend, around a month ago with baby sis… I was not even in that much distress; I thought it was a skewed drawing of a tulip!

Dr. M.: This reveals too much pain and agony*silence* This looks like *pause*an abortion! *looks at me* Suffering and trauma like one feels due to an abortion! Are you ok? Is it true?

Me: *smiling* la walahy, da I was in a good mood 7atta! That’s a tulip!!!!

02- Same day as 01… I love the moon and the night and it was all I felt like drawing. There are black edges but the paper was too big to fit into the scanner! It was the first one she held after looking at all the other stuff and wondering if they were all drawn by the same person!

Her Suggestion: This says it all, *pointing at the other drawings* it wraps up all those. She has hope, but she’s surrounded by too much darkness; she keeps surrendering

Dr. M: No, it’s fake hope, or a wish for something better and brighter, you painted it white, you didn’t just leave the original white of the paper; you want certain kind of things. Did you start with the white or the black?

Me: White

Dr. M.: *smile* you want too much but it keeps hitting you hard, the darkness until it fades to black; you feel desperate too often after being too optimistic!

Me: *laughing* yeah it starts with white, then te3’ma2, then teswad, eswed eswed eswed!!!

03- Same Day… I was wasting my time; it started out as a butterfly and ended to look this way!

Dr. M: This is so dead! It looks lively and colorful, but it’s too dead, it barely has any life within. It’s only held together by a spiritual bond.

Later during our talk he said: so this is why your “butterfly” is so dead; you seem to have it all, the life a lot of people want, but no one knows your marriage is ending, has been ending for two years now, no one knows about your daily struggle with those you communicate with on daily basis and the responsibility that burden you day and night…

04- Was drawn two weeks ago, I went to get interpretations on the previous ones and I felt like I needed to get a glimpse on what was in my head due to the pressures I knew were coming my way. I needed insights and I needed help…

Her Suggestion: *pointing at the orange circle and lines and their yellow shadow* That’s her, right? She’s trying to find peace but she’s not able to reach for it; mesh wasla lel ard? We elly foo2 de mashakel we 7agat bedaye2ha, attacking?

Dr. M: *nodding*

05- I scribbled it while talking to my friend and waiting for our turn. I got a call from mama and decided to give her hair, something to do to get my anger out!

06- I drew that on the same day I went; I was sitting at the office overwhelmed and I decided to go to the Art Therapy that day, so did my drawings right then to save time…

Her Suggestion: *about #06* that’s her, she only sees half of things, the half that upsets her, she’s too focused on it *pause* or perhaps she wants to take a peak of something*about #07* That’s definitely drawn on a different day…

Dr. M: Definitely! She wants to yell in anger, 3ayza tesrokh *about #05* hena heya confused, shakka fe 7aga we mesh 3arfa heya e, she’s worried and curious and does not trust what she’s being given…

07- I wanted to put it all in one place, the green felt like bad stuff as I drew them, like poisonous weeds! I know I wanted the sun, I drew it first!

Her suggestion: *pointing at the red blob*that’s her; she’s bleeding, she’s in too much pain, she’s silent *pause* she’s in the darkness, but she strongly hopes for the sun and the clear skies*looking at me* your tendency to hope is amazing! I miss that feeling hoping for something and telling myself it will be good the way you keep doing! *pointing at the green* see it will all be good, you know it in your heart…

Dr. M: But the green is superficial it’s on top of brown from the surface; it has no roots*looking at me* the brown is an abandoned place, you in a way, you need care and nourishing but you pretend to have it, only it’s on the surface; the green is not real, it’s not making you happy, walla eh?? El ard el teen de me7taga care we tetzere3?

Me: *laughing nervously* la2, 3agbany be tenha, I am fine without the care, I just need to be left alone, perhaps it would turn green on its own someday!

Her: but it’s a good feeling in general?

Dr. M: actually no *pausing* it’s too much to be put in one page; she’s contantly divived… law baseety lel soora 3ala ba3daha, te7esey ennaha te2eela 3al 2alb, mesh adra tetnafesy *looking at me* malek, eh elly khan2ek awy keda?!!

I almost cried right there!

08- Those were my thoughts as I was scribbling this… “I wish I were talented; I feel like I have a lot to express, but I am not talented enough to get it out the way I would want to” I was provoked and I was angry and I felt desperate. FYI, it was the second one discussed, the first one was the one with the mood (the bright spot with darkness all around)

Her suggestion: *asking me* do you play any instrument? *I shook my head* *she looked at him* She wants to scream, so loudly, in so many ways but she can’t! and there are voices that are driving her crazy and hurting her??

Dr. M: not just scream, she doesn’t want to scream about what’s really upsetting her; it’s indirect *looking at me* how true is that to you?

Me: *gasping* I was feeling the exact thing, I wish I screamed! And yes, I don’t want those who cause my anger to know how angry I really am but I can’t find an outlet! And I am being subjected to words of other people that get to me more than they should, I know but I can’t help it…

I sat there for three hours!

I don’t know why I’m sharing this!

I realize he didn’t exactly tell me things I didn’t know; but he managed to understand what I did not say and validate it, I needed that.

He showed me that even when I was ok, I actually thought I was; I was just piling it under hope. That’s why I keep relapsing from good moods back to bad ones.

He said something about starting to do something instead of just hoping, doing something to make my life better and more independent so that I can start being myself for a change.

He said I was full of extremes and it was exhausting to be me!

I don’t know why he insisted that I was mentally stable nonetheless!! At that particular point, I would have so much settled for “enty magnoona”!!!

After a couple of stressful weeks!

2009-04-01T21:36:00.001+02:00

I freeze…

It is cold here, I am sweating and getting colder, I am shivering…

My whole body is stiff, the kinda stiff you feel when you’re too cold, only I am not that cold!

My tongue feels too big for my mouth; it’s making it hard for me to swallow, and my jaw is too stiff

My heartbeats are racing and I can feel my ears about to explode…

My colleague walks in and rushes to the buffet to get me mango juice…

I hate mango juice, and I hate stuff that are that sweet, but I feel too paralyzed to object. “drink it fast, you’re low on sugar, I haven’t seen you eaten anything in the past couple of days and 7ar2et el dam bete7ra2 sokkar, eshraby! Matboseleesh kheda”

Was I looking at him?

I can’t breathe… no, I can, I am just too conscious of every breath I take, it’s too much work to take air in and push it back, I can see my chest moving upwards and downwards and it never felt that straining…

The office boy walks in later with lemonade and puts it right in front of me… I say nothing

My colleague walks in again and tells me “DRINK IT!”… I wave my hands to tell him I can’t hear him, it’s like my eardrums are beating in deafening silence and I can’t hear words… I murmur “bardana awy”… e runs to turn off the central A/C and makes a joke, ironically I laugh as if I got it but it was basically because I felt sorry for him trying to make me laugh!

I force myself to focus… I call my sis and tell her that I’ll call the babysitter to meet her up at the nursery to pick the boys. I confirm with the babysitter. I call the nursery to let them know who will pick the boys.

I force myself to walk to that armchair in the hidden corner of my office so that no one can see me through the glass…

I sit head in my hands and I keep trying to force the thoughts to float in my head… you can’t afford to collapse, not now, not with all that’s going on; you need your strength, pull it together…

My boss walks in, takes a quick look at me, leaves to his room, and moments later he’s back with his jacket on and his brief case in his hand, and he says in a non-negotiable tone “yalla hawasalek el beet”

I go home, I sleep, I sort of eat, but I still feel out of my element!

I hope it ends soon… I hope it ends well soon! Deep down I am almost sure it will! YA RAB

Wishing and Hoping

2009-03-31T09:53:00.001+02:00

There’s an old saying, careful what you wish for

I have this as my greeting on my mobile to remind me to never wish for things…

To just hope and accept when my hopes do not come to reality, and move on…

Never wish so hard because you spend too much energy and you will always end up disappointed, whether you get what you wished for or not.

It's that simple, or at least it should be!

Yet a wish always finds a way to sneak into my heart and into my prayers…

And for whatever reason, it comes true, as farfetched as it could be!

And it's just never the right wish!

I just wish for once that the right wish comes true for a change! And by the right, I mean the one that would really make me happy even if I don’t see it right now!

If that is not possible, then I wish I could just stick to hoping and learn not to get my hopes too high; one simple thing at a time should do…

I wish, no I hope…