*teeet*

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!!

The Futility of the Dance!!

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!

In theory and in practice…

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!