Every freakin’ time…

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!

I think this sums it up!

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…

Fallen

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.

In retrospect

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…

On Boundaries…

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.

Overrated…

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.

Wishing and Hoping

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…

Stupid Passion

Is it possible for someone who doesn’t know their passion in life to get so passionate over the stupidest of things!!

I guess so; I’m a living proof!

Months ago, my therapist told me I needed to find my passion; that I was lost and I needed to find my soul doing something, and that I had to figure it out. It made m look at him desperately asking for a clue but he kept looking at me and said I should find my passion on my own because no one else would know it if I don’t.

I’ve been thinking of all the possible things I could be passionate about. I replayed my life trying to remember the things I liked doing, the things I was good at doing, and there was the shocking truth…

I never really liked anything long enough to be the best at it; it could be because I was afraid I would never be the best, so I gave up at the stage of it being just a hobby to escape any potential failure.

Wait, it gets better…

The things I was actually good at, I kept them at a distance because I didn’t want to wake up one day to discover I got bored and stopped liking them!

How pathetic is that! Yes, my fickleness scares me from getting too close to things or people because I could either disappoint of be disappointed. Like I said, pathetic!

I decided to stop searching; I told myself my passion will catch up with me and find me.

It kinda did a couple of months ago, or so I thought anyway. It was helping people; helping people gave me a feeling of euphoria I enjoyed so very much. For a couple of days I could sleep better, my diet became healthier, and something about me was radiant, people couldn’t help but notice!

The Caller actually sent me text message saying I should do more work on the other blog because I am good at it; it made me post a couple of times before I went to my ridiculous state of hibernation! Yes, I admit it, I don’t know how to make that blog work, and given what happened next (or below), I was not ready for another disappointment!

So here is what happened next, I thought I should help people!! I contacted my shrink whom I knew started an NGO about creating awareness against violence and providing psychiatric help to those who had been traumatized. I told her I was willing to volunteer and take whatever courses and take a parapsychology degree so that I can do it professionally, no medications involved, just compassionate and professional help to those who seek it.

It was such a disappointment! I know my shrink could read this, and I hope she does because I never had the guts to tell her in the face how disappointed I was at the meeting I attended! It was only about raising money for a party that was supposed to help create awareness to the NGO. Mind you that the attendees who should buy the tickets, you know because of whom that specific singer was chosen (wa7ed aslant masme3tesh 3anno abl keda, but I blame my limited awareness of Arab singers), are upper class people who –according to the people in the meeting- only go there to see who got married and who is still man-hunting!! And don’t get me started of what I think about that! Anyway, all the talk was about sponsors and advertising and the tickets prices! No one mentioned the help we were supposed to give, not even for a few minutes on the side!

I know I know, I am too freakin’ utopian and I expect things to be in a certain way. I’ve heard it all before! Every time I remember how disappointed I felt I almost cry! I wanted to help people; I was thinking support groups and nonfinancial gain and there I was looking at people fighting over the best way to bag sponsors! If I wanted to do that, I would have worked in my field of studies, marketing! Oh well!

Don’t get me wrong, I am not an NGO kinda person; if anything I hate belonging to a bigger group where the goals and motives get confused with other things that have nothing to do with the cause! I inherited by dad’s cynicism unlike baby sis who still believes she can still do good even within a corrupt system. My good baby sister.

Today, it hit me. My passion for helping people is only the positive side of how I feel when I see people doing/accepting injustice! I can’t help but feel furious when I hear a story about someone hurting others with no regard to anything but their own interests and I get even madder when I see the victims accept their roles so submissively and endure the abuse and perhaps even invite some more!

I get so angry I wish I could turn into the Goddess of war and rage so that I can rip off the hearts of those who inflict pain! If any of the ancient mythologies were ever true, I would have loved to be Sakhment, Ishtar, Athena or Minerva who ironically also represent good things like health, wisdom and wealth!!

But who am I to mess with anger; all those myths tell how the Goddesses were blinded by their anger and ended up inflicting harm on everyone equally!! I guess I should just stop trying to think like a God and accept that only Allah swt has the key to all and that we’re all in a constant battle testing our strengths and beliefs!

My dad always tells me after bad disputes with my mother that I should stop behaving as if I were an equal and accept my role and live up to it. As right as I believe he is; I just don’t know how to accept my role if it subjects me to be wronged even if by my mother and even if unintentionally!

Deep breath in… aaaand out…

Maybe I should consider yoga like my sis! Oh crap, I don’t want to be around her anymore than I have to; Zen people get on my nerves. It’s beyond me how anyone can see the mess that happens all around and still be calm just makes me wanna hurt them or something, may they’d get as angry!! Yeah, it’s probably envy talking; I am not envious by nature but it seems that anger visits me bringing all its friends lately as a punishment for not letting it in enough, or perhaps locking it in that box! Kick boxing seems more fitting for me!

Anyway, back to the reason I started writing this…

Yes, I have a misplaced passion! Whoever taught me about right and wrong as a child screwed me for life because they didn’t explain that it’s not up to me to make everything right and that the universe does not answer to me, and that even wrong happens for a reason and hard as I might try, I will not always get it, not even often!

I am so darn angry right now I want to cry! That idiot talks about wanting to marry anyone we khalas as if other people’s lives have no regard as long as he gets his needs satisfied! How arrogant!! And the way he says “at least mesh ha3mel 7aga 7aram” makes me wanna kick him where it hurts!!! I keep yelling at myself “don’t argue, don’t argue; he’s aware you’re getting angry and he feeds on it, don’t argue” I would gladly hope he meets his match, the one who teaches him the cruelest of lessons only to balance his own cruelty, but I learned it will not just be about him suffering, more people will suffer, people I care about!

My only defense mechanism helped a bit! God bless heartless sarcasm! I gave him a bitter taste of it and then told him I had to go.

Only I found myself writing this post….

If any of my good friends called me to rant about something so mundane, I’d try to calm them and point out to them how ridiculous it is to get upset about the same thing all over again when they have absolutely no control over any of it! But here I am, unable to get so angry, so passionately angry I could hurt people!!

Darn!

Where is my art therapist when I need him! I can’t see him before next Sunday!!! And I can’t even just draw it out because my mom is spying on me, thinking she can look at the shit I draw and figure me out, or even worse make up silly remarks about me trying to be a painter! Either that or I am developing a severe case of paranoia!

Note to self: “people can be really sick and twisted, including you! So stop whining, get over the shock and accept that there is nothing you can do to change it; you can barely change yourself! Etweksy!”

What do you know, another incoherent rant!

Party Pooper

Today I was out with a friend having fun, pure absolute fun after such a disturbingly annoying day with the x checking out schools. I got my end-of-the-week treat; I was sitting in a chair listening to all my favorite oldies brilliantly performed. Some of the songs brought back memories to which I am nostalgic, I closed my eyes and smiled as I put those memories back to where they belong. My whole body was moving with the same rhythm as the music, I sang along at the top of my voice and no one could hear (luckily), I clapped and cheered so loud until my hands hurt and my voice faded! I was genuinely happy.

My friend and I left so that we can go home before we get in trouble, which is sad since we’re both above 25, VERY SAD. Nonetheless, we both found solace in knowing that we had a real good time and that for the hour we spent, neither of us had time to think of our crappy dramas and got to live a life we never really had anywhere beyond our dreams, fair enough, or so we contently compromised.

Until that call!

“Enty fein le7ad delwa2ty? Enty 3arfa el sa3a kam? Da kalam?” and BAAAMM hung up!

Seriously, this is unfair!! I will turn 28 in June, and it wasn’t even 10 yet!!! 10 people!

And my mood was dramatically changed, in those few seconds it took to end that call, how sad is that, how depressing!

I felt like crying. My good mood was snatched from me so abruptly, the sudden switch of moods had a shocking effect that made me wanna curl and cry.

How cruel, how insensitive!

I really needed that evening out; it’s been a while since I went out on a music night and I reeeaaallllly needed the feeling I get after those. The music just makes me forget all about my problems and my issues and I heal for as long as I’m listening, and I know I can willingly go back to my daily fights and struggles without complaining knowing that I lived those few moments. Why is it too much to ask? Is that so horrible?!

I know it’s useless to try and explain that to my caller, or the person who had him make the call. I know it will be a waste of my breath because even if I managed to get my point through, they will still find ways to make me seem irresponsible and selfish and whatever other labels they will feel like using. So as always, the silent treatment is the way to go; long live passive aggression!

Now that I’ve ranted, I will go to bed trying to remember the thoughts and feelings I had as the music was playing and just dwell in them hoping they’ll visit me in my dreams more vividly.

Goodnight.

Like music to my ears…

Some songs have a familiar friendly tune, with music so intriguing and inviting and always making me smile…

I play that music day and night; I just can't get enough of its effect on me…

I hum, I mumble, I sing and I dance… I just can't resist music when it’s so comforting and soothing and not too loud, can anyone resist harmony?

As the song plays over and over again, I know every tune, every moment of silence, and I learn when and how to sing the lyrics; however, it sometimes gets a bit harder when I sing along and skip a breath or a word to catch up with the music…

When I’m on my own, singing the song without the music, I pause to make sure I’m singing it right; it makes me pay more attention to its words, their meanings, and their significance… Sometimes I don’t like the words much; they’re too shallow or perhaps I just can’t relate... Aparently the friendly music was hiding a lot more behind it...

Then, when the same song plays, I think twice before singing along… No, I don’t want to say words I don’t feel; they lost a meaning they never really had; I was only singing along because I was charmed by the music, but now, the meaninglessness takes away the charm from the tune I once liked making

The music becomes an unpleasant reminder... When the song plays, I just skip forward to a familiar tune that I still like, or a new song with a new meaning that perhaps would make me smile…

Sometimes I never let that song play again, sometimes I just smile and let it play in the background without paying any attention, and sometimes I just smile and sing along, for old times’ sake… but never like before…

And you… you’re like that music to my ears…

Ordering food, the Egyptian way and so much for going local!

Months ago, while heading to my office, the security man gave me food delivery flyers. Apparently someone in the building made a delivery and the delivery guy left more flyers for people, quite an efficient way to market for a place if you ask me.

So they were for two different subsidiaries owned by the same company. An Egyptian brand if you may; however, it sounded promising to try out!

I will refrain from using the names until I see how the story turns out, since I refuse to give my support to brands unless I am 100% sure of their quality.

So anyway, the two brands are as follows: X is for burgers, and Z is for soups, salads, and juices. I had already tried X more than once and their burger is just GOOD, and not for a too high a price especially that they didn’t start charging for delivery until recently.

Today, given my new diet plans, I decided to give the Z a try. I tried to tempt one of my coworkers to join me, but he said he felt like eating something “yeshaba3”; so I told him they were the same place from where we get our usual burgers, he said he was in for a mushroom burger.

I called them and here is how it went…

The guy (who was really friendly and polite): is it your first time to order?
Me: yes, I think I use another number, and I always called the X brand, so to save you time I can just give you all the info all over again and then you can merge them on your own…
*after giving him all the necessary information*
Me: so this is my order, cob salad, and I want to make a burger order, so how does it work, do u put me through to a colleague or I just tell you??
Him: no, you will need to hang up and call the X number
Me: oh! But it’s only one number different from yours, so I am assuming you’re in the same location, no???
Him: yes, but it’s a different concept, we offer healthy food while X offers burgers
Me: yeah I get that, but I want both orders to be delivered at the same time, since I don’t want to start eating and have my colleague watching me or the other way around!!
Him: yes, I understand, don’t worry; I will make sure they are delivered at the same time…
Me: no, I meant to say you should make sure they are delivered by the SAME person!!!!! It’s cost efficient for you, you know!!
Him: yeah of course, but… ok, I am so sorry, but the owner clearly stated that deliveries from either brands should be separate….
Me: ok, I understand it’s probably because you want to charge me for the delivery TWICE, no???
Him (really embarrassed about it): I am so sorry, owner’s order, it’s a branding thing!
Me: look, you don’t have to give me any invalid justifications, I really like your burgers and I have a good feeling about your salads, so I will assume you don’t have the authority to change the owner’s rules and let you charge me twice for the delivery, each order in a separate receipt, ok, but make sure they are delivered by the same person… and you can leave a remark in my name that this rule is rather silly, ok now??
Him (seemed to be relieved that I didn’t start a fight, and really appreciative of my calm tone of voice): ok ya fandem, ana asef geddan 3ala el ez3ag.
Me: wala yehemak!

I hung up and called the other number to order my friend’s burger….

The SAME guy: alloo
Me (pretending not to notice it was him): hi, I want to make an order please…
Him: is it Ms. MA?!
Me (pretending to be surprised): omG, it’s you again
Him (embarrassed): yes
Me (jokingly): you gotta be kidding me!! Tab khaly 7ad gheerak yerod 3ashan el manzar 7atta!!!
Him: I am so sorry, walahy owner’s orders…
Me: ok, I am even more serious now; please tell the owner that he really pissed off a customer that way…
Him: I am really really sorry!
Me: it’s ok, I am not upset with you, I just think this rule is LAME
Him: would you please log on our website and leave a comment in the customer feedback area, I know the owner checks it on daily basis but he wouldn’t listen to any of the staff unless a customer leaves a comment!
Me: ok, I guess I’ll leave a piece of mind there for him…
Him: thanks, and I am really really sorry again…
Me: it’s ok, you don’t have to keep apologizing to me!

So, I hung up, and I logged into the site. I left a brief comment to the “owner” stating that it’s more convenient to allow his agents to place orders from different subsidiaries on the same receipt since otherwise, the average customer might be more tempted to call another restaurant and make a salad order from a more familiar place since either way they will be charged for extra delivery charges!!

Now, I am really questioning the owner’s IQ! Well, not to offend, I am questioning his Business IQ! There are online stores who would not charge you for delivery if you buy from more than one subsidiary, even if the items you choose are not available in the closest store, they ship them from a different branch on their own expense for your own convenience!! And that guy is getting two orders from the same kitchen and charging you double the delivery!!! I will stop criticizing him for now; perhaps I would get a positive feedback on my note.

However, is it the kind of service Egyptians offer! I mean with the whole campaign of going local, is that the kind of treatment I should expect from local brands!! I was really thrilled that I have local alternatives for all the junk food on which I spend most of my money. Yes, the food is of good quality, but the service has its own set of flaws! And it worries me that one day; the quality will also decline just like it always declines as far as Egyptian brands are concerned.

It makes me question the whole concept of going local; most of the local brands in almost any product/service is of low quality, and those who provide half decent quality overcharge you because they are supposedly targeting the “elite”!! I always wanted to have a discussion with those brand owners and tell them something that perhaps they never considered; the “elite” do most of their shopping from Europe and North America, or at least from European and North American brands in Dubai or other Gulf countries, and if they travel regularly, it costs them a lot less than to buy half decent Egyptian brands for the same price!!

It could be the case for a lot of people who read this, or I could just be justifying my way into placing that online purchase that’s been saved on my mailbox for weeks now!

Oh, the salad was ok, but I can so make my own salad before I leave to work if I wake up half an hour earlier; so no, not so exquisite, at least not the way their burger compares to other burgers!!

That’s the way it is, and that’s how it shall stay…

I have a serious temper problem…

I lose my temper very often. Judging by how people perceive me at work as a mellow person, I think I have worked on it a bit. But my old colleagues from my previous job knew my temper; my best friends of them say I was intimidating and that they always feared the moment when they might unintentionally get on my bad side.

At home, I don’t hold my temper at all, perhaps except with my father; the man has character and presence that scares the crap out of my temper I must admit. I get angry at my sisters a lot, but they have no idea how much I hold back, as if they don’t remember the old me!

My sons are the only reason I am trying to learn to control my temper; because I hate myself when I lose it with them.


I am stubborn, very stubborn…

I think it’s ok when I actually have a valid point, but truth is even if I don’t, I can still be pretty stubborn about it. On rare occasions, I respond to logic and reason, but even then, it has to be done in certain ways that most people are incapable of. When I am wrong, I admit to myself that I am, and I do my best to admit it to others, which brings me to the next point…


I am too proud…

I must admit to a very ridiculous extent. I HATE it when I ask for favors. The closer the person of which I am asking the favor is, the worse I feel having to ask for it.

I would rarely ever tell someone they hurt me; I am too proud to admit I was hurt, let alone put it in words. I resort to humor and sometimes sarcasm to cover up for my red eyes or my bad mood; I think I can even be offensive that way!

If I sense someone dislikes me, I stay as far as possible and I go to extremes to avoid them. I wouldn’t be caught dead feeling like I am forcing anyone to be around me.

Even with those I know like me, I hate being a burden; last summer when my best friend was visiting from the states, I passed by her grandma’s the day she arrived to say hi, hug and kiss (I know sounds just wrong), and then left her for a week without even calling so that she can catch up with her family without being pressured to go out and have a snack and catch up.


I am crystal clear…

… to a transparent extent. Some would say it’s a good thing, but the ones I don't like beg to disagree because I tend to be obnoxious when provoked (refer to my temper). If you still insist, keep reading and you’ll know how bad it gets!


My biggest flaw: I love too much, I care too much and hell I expect too much… keyword: TOO MUCH

If I love someone (not necessarily in the romantic sense) to the extent that I manage my temper, become less stubborn, get over my pride, and allow my emotions to show in the tiniest of things I do for that person, I am most likely to lose that person because of my expectations of him/her.

I won’t say I lost my x that way; da kan ghalta asasan, I literally chose the wrong person based on all the wrong criteria. But my violent reaction and my extreme change must have count for something I must say!

Anyway, I managed to lose quite a few people that way; one single mistake that gets under my skin; before I know it, it goes deep enough to my bones and the relationship is scarred for life.

Soon enough my previously mentioned flaws catch up with me. So I become too angry to listen to any possible explanations, too stubborn to understand any, too freakin’ proud to show how I'm extremely hurt; and consequently, too obnoxious to be dealt with, which of course will lead to me being the bad guy by showing the other person my ugly side.


Conclusion…

That’s who I am. I have bad flaws, deadly ones if you may. But in my own twisted way, I manage to work around them and I would like to think that I make up for them. In my very own delusional way, I believe I am worth it (it could be my pride talking just as well).

So that’s it; I can’t change, and I won’t change because those flaws are only the bad side of a much better me who wouldn’t hold anything back when she cares.

If you can’t understand how I work and appreciate it, then go away, I most certainly don’t need your friendship; it means absolutely nothing to me.

If it’s any consolation, it hurts.

Touché

Sometimes, the fastest way to lose loved ones is by loving them to an extent where you start having expectations they can never meet.

This year, I lost two.

I know it’s a year because I remember being introduced to someone in January 2008 and those two were mentioned. I remember saying I loved those two so dearly that there was nothing in the world I wouldn’t give to them.

If I am asked the same question today, I’d say “they’re good people, God bless them” as I fight my tears and swallow that big lump.

I thought unloving my x was the hardest thing I had to do because he was “the one” or “the love of my life”! Obviously, that kind of love is overrated and it fades out when all the reasons cease to exist! Not to mention that the x went to extreme measures to earn his title as one hell of a jerk who has no ethics.

It hurts more to detach and disassociate from someone for whom you still care and love, and force yourself to stop caring, yet somehow still love them in a way!

It hurts much more when those people are decent and kind except that they still disappointed you in a way you can’t really handle!

It hurts to know that you might have caused it just as well.

It hurts in so many ways…

Because a part of you still wants to think it’s temporary, while the other part tell you it’s not, with proof…

Because you don’t know how to behave; pretend like nothing is wrong at least until you know you’re completely withdrawn, or show all the frustration and disappointment to ensure that there's no way back; that you won’t soften and get hurt further…

Hurt those once loved ones by telling them to their faces how you will no longer care, or let them hurt as they wonder what could have possibly happened to your relationship…

What hurts the most is that you keep asking “Did they notice? Does it hurt them too?” and you’re too scared to find out, because if the answer is yes, you’ll feel bad; however, you’ll feel much worse if the answer is no! and you can’t really stop wondering because you care.

It’s a sad and pathetic mixture of anger, disappointment, guilt, and linger… on top of all, you’re too proud to admit having that much conflict over a decision you've already made to preserve that pride!

Sick and Tired

Despite all my recent attempts, I am still officially depressed! I am too depressed to even rant about it!

I keep wondering what the point of anything is! Nothing changes for the better; ok, sometimes it does, but it’s for a short while and then it falls apart again, everything!

I don’t even have the energy to feel angry or cry; I am accepting the way things are and I am tired of fighting back, que sera sera.

So for the time being, I am sulking in bed, defying my insomnia and clinging to every trace of sleep I can get even if I can hear my mom ranting or my kids calling for me.

There is simply no point of trying to be better or making things better; if things won’t be better either way, then I can’t keep on trying, it’s too draining and I am all out of energy.

I’m sorry, I don’t have in me to keep pushing myself any further; it’s futile, and in the end, something will always crash and burn, so I better not get my hopes up or work hard for whatever it is I most probably won’t get.

I am not letting myself drown, I am just floating away to wherever the tides take me and I don’t care where that would be.

Lady Justice is blind universally, but in Egypt, 3andaha takhallof!

After my last post, I had decided to stop ranting about my divorce that I actually told a friend of mine that next time I’d mention my x was going to be when I get a divorce.

I even planned on blogging about several things; like my Beem’s birthday party, which we had today… or the cute little developments I’ve been observing about my two pieces of cuteness (radya 3anhom awy el yoomein dool).

Sadly, I took back my word after being provoked by the Egyptian judicial system, which makes me feel like the law and its practice were made to ensure further oppression on the oppressed, Allah ye7ra2ek ya balad (which I don’t think is that farfetched given the rate of establishments catching fire lately!)

I found out that there was an appeal session for my divorce case. Apparently, my father stopped telling me because he sensed how irritated I get because of all the anticipation; therefore, he just told me the update after my lawyer informed him thereof. Of course none of my x’s representation showed, so it was postponed for further notification… until FEBRUARY!!! FEBRE-freakin’-UARY!!!

Ya walad el… 7aram 3aleiko ba2a… fe 7ad fel denya ye2ool keda!!! Four months ya kafara 3ashan e3adet e3lam!! I am left speechless… this is not justice, and if it is, then it’s very much retarded and stupid and… and… I can’t seem to find a decent word to describe it!!

Now it makes sense why he was calling to “reconcile”, and now it makes sense why he took it back! I am expecting his next phone call in February, at least the one to re-discuss the divorce and its terms since he might be demanding to see the kids some time soon.

Today was my son’s birthday parties; one at his nursery, and one at home with a very limited group of friends and family. Today was a good day and I won’t let a stupid court update ruin it, so here ends my rant.

Nonetheless, if anyone stumbles upon this and has an advice on a place I can petition against this stupidity and lack of common sense to a respective authority in hopes of actually acting positively upon something, I’m open to suggestions, even though I can clearly hear the cynic in me screaming so loudly “heya de masr ya 3abla”!

I will brag about my babies some other time I guess, so later!

“esloobek howa el sabab”

He called to complain that my dad told his aunt that my kids will not be seeing his grandma because she’s a liar. He used his fake polite tone and he actually called me “7adretek” as. He claimed that he’s always refrained from offending me or my family. “mashy, ok” I kept thinking to myself, “let him say all he has to say as long as he’s at least pretending to be polite”, I let him go on and on, then came the moment where I had to ask.

I am too proud to ask I have to admit. A lot of those who know me (and not even that well) might have noticed that I usually refrain from asking too many questions; it’s partially because I was taught that it’s rude to be nosey, but mostly because I am too proud to come off as nosey. I was too proud to ask him what went wrong because I did not want him to sense my insecurity, it was too much victory for me to give him. Alas, I came to swallow my pride as I went on…

Me: olt khalas kol elly 3andak?
Him: aiwa, shokran ennek radeety
Me: momken ba2a as2alak so2al?
Him: etfadaly ya (my name)
Me: *hesitating one last time* I know it’s weird to ask right now, but indulge me, what made you first drift away?
Him: *very cautiously trying to figure out where the catch is* what do u mean drift away, mesh fahem el so2al?
Me: ya3ne before I got preg with Beem, we seemed fine, then by the time I was halfway through my pregnancy, you decided to have a girlfriend, I believe that was our fall, you kept lying to hide it and I kept finding out more about your lies, until I lost my trust in you, then you were in an affair during my pregnancy with Mocha, and you know the rest, so what caused it from the very beginning, three years ago?
Him: enty sa2alteeny abl keda zaman…
Me: yes, I remember, and you said it was because I did not cook enough and that the house used to get too messy with me being pregnant and lazy... ana fakra!
Him: we sa3etha ettarya2ty 3alaya we 2olteeely we ya tara heya tabakhetlak wala wadabetlak el beet?
Me: If I asked because I wanted to be rude and sarcastic, I would have said a lot more than that right now, but it’s not why I’m asking, so bear with me, and make it specific, an incident, something in particular that I’ve said or done! And you can also be very brief, I’m driving!
Him: ya (my name) enty esloobek mostafez… mafeesh ay ragel yesta7mel enno ye7es en merato mesh tay2alo kelma…
Me: ana batkalem 3ala abl ma eslooby became an issue!
Him: enty tool 3omrek keda, esloobek dayman ye7ases el wa7ed eno la yo7tamal we enno mommel
Me: (don’t argue, don’t argue, don’t argue… he’s expecting you to argue, he’s even asking for it, DON’T ARGUE!) OK
Him: huh?
Me: ok, thanks for answering my question
Him: ya (my name) ahoh da elly beydaye2, lessa zay manty
Me: I asked you from the beginning to be specific and brief, so don’t expect a long conversation out of this question and answer!!
Him: fe 7ad yetkalem keda?!!
Me: ma3lesh ya (his name), ana eslooby keda, always been apparently!! And since I have not changed all that time, I don’t think I should bother changing now, at least not for you, so thank you very much for answering my question, 3ayez 7aga tanya?
Him: law sama7ty, madam bakalemek, kalemeeny zay ma bakallemek…
Me: here is the thing ya (his name), ana mesh 3ayza akallemak! Momken law sama7t ne2fel!
Him: ok ya (my name) rabena yehdeeky
Me: ameen ya rab
Him: kol sana wenty wel 3eyal be kheir
Me: shokran
Him: esmaha wenta tayeb
Me: whatever!

Just thought I’d write it down for the sake of reference. Let it be known, I am a person with attitude, surprise!!

This is what it came down to, eslooby zeft! I won’t even dignify any of it by explaining or justifying where it came from, I’ll just leave it at that. So this is where it ends, it’s not worth dwelling in it any further.

I’ll go now and sink my bitterness over my wasted years in songs that go with the mood.

And there it goes again…

He called today. He called from a number I did not recognized so I answered. I had the same feeling I get whenever he calls; anger, disgust and hate. He’s the same person who makes me feel sick, that I could tell even though his words were different. He wants a civil divorce; he says all my rights and those of my kids’ are granted except for sha2et el 7adana. He said I could consult whomever I want and that it was not a limited time offer like he previously mentioned. He said he wants a clean ending. Call me whatever; I want to believe him… I need to believe him.

His words made me cry. I kept crying as he went on and on over the phone saying the same things he usually says. My friend says he knows me well; I say he never knew me, he just knows how to hurt me, and he’s really good at it. I cried because I saw snippets of my past seven years, I felt them slipping away and I realized my loss when I didn’t feel his. I kept crying, until I could just take no more, so I gathered all my strength to maintain an indifferent tone as I said “khalas, I get your point, I’ll talk to my dad and my lawyer and get back to you”. He said “kol sana wenty wel welad tayebeen wel osra be kheir, salemeely 3al welad le7ad mab2a ashofhom”

I talked to my dad while we were in the car going to his cousin’s for iftar. I told him I needed to go through with that civil divorce he suggested, I told him that we could talk to my lawyer and arrange all the documents that need to be signed in order to make sure he won’t take back any of his promises. My dad was too cynical to buy any of his words, and he was too rigid to let go of the whole apartment thing. He says it’s my right to have that apartment, even though he insists that I do not move out and even though he had already decided I would not step foot in it! He says it’s a matter of right and wrong and that it’s 7a2 adaby!

I usually confirm with such ideal notions my dad speaks of, but excuse me, I am too tired to maintain that status. I need closure, I need it more than anyone could guess. I am willing to waive all my rights, I am even willing to consider waiving those of my kids as well to get it. Call me selfish, but I need my closure, I NEED IT. Why can’t I have it when he seems to have already had his. I don’t think I will be waiving a right; that apartment is his, and I know that in a perfect world, it would be my kids’; but it’s not a perfect world, why don’t we all wake up and smell the stench!

It’s called sha2et 7adana. My right to live in it ends when my custody rights end. It’s a temporary right that I don’t even want; it’s not worth me remaining in this mess one minute longer. I cried again as I talked to my dad. This time I cried because I could tell that his sense of right and wrong was keeping him from seeing my desperate need for closure. At the end of the conversation I made him promise that he would at least discuss it with my lawyer and that the conversation would take place in my presence.

I know my x is one hell of a liar, and I know it could be one of his tricks. But like I said, I need to believe that he meant it when he said he wanted a civil divorce; if that makes me an idiot, then I’m guilty as charged… I am an idiot, a tired and a confused idiot who wants out at any cost.

One week after…

Ramadan is taking its toll on me; it’s the first time that I find fasting that disorienting! It could be due to the caffeine deprivation since I have been guilty of some serious caffeine abuse during the past year. No craving, just utter disorientation!

I am too tired, exhausted actually. I sleep more hours that any self proclaimed insomniac should, I am too ashamed of myself, and I am even considering changing my name to sleepy-head.

And I haven’t even gotten all spiritual yet like everyone else seems to be! I am not sure my faith is that much intact that way. It adds to my guilt that I’m having terrible music obsession when everyone else I know is listening and/or reading Quran! It feels wrong somehow!!

Too many thoughts are crowding my head and I am too woozy and drowsy to even think or write them out of my system! Ramadan me3aslag ma3aya awy awy, and I can’t get into the whole Ramadan spirit, I am starting to feel so incompetent and that something is seriously wrong with me!

I do not blame Ramadan, I blame the people who overrate their joy and make it seem obligatory to feel the same way. Well, I don’t feel the spirit of Ramadan, so sue me!! And while I’m at it, I almost never feel that spirit, and neither do I feel that of El Eid! To me, it’s all about the social pretenses one has to go through to make loved ones happy (as well as not so loved ones) and it takes away whatever spiritual sense left in me, assuming I had much aslan!

I would wish you a blessed Ramadan, except that obviously it would sound too cliché coming from me, since you know better :-/

Undivorced!!*

*(Although Microsoft Word Processor objected to this word, apparently it exists as per the Egyptian way of applying religion and law)

Due to a bureaucratic stupidity, I had to wait an extra day to get the ruling on my divorce case since the verdict was sent to Zananeery Court instead of Abdeen Court along with other verdicts! *ahem*typical*ahem*

In short and simple words, away from the unnecessary legal jargon, his ta3a request was rejected and so was my divorce request.

I won’t talk about my anxiety over the anticipation and how it would have been much worse if it hadn’t been for yesterday’s outing (thanks girl ;)). I won’t whine about the verdict because I promised myself I wouldn’t; I know other people out there have it much worse and that I should be grateful, and I am, despite the disappointment and frustration for which I was prepared.

This is my general wondering though, even as I know that I am probably not the first or the only who had given that matter a thought!

What is the purpose of the verdict? I mean saying it out loud (or typing it for that matter) “el ta3a wel tala2, el etneen etrafado!” does not make any sense! If the honorable judge does not think I have legitimate grounds for requesting a divorce since to him no harm has been inflicted on me, then why did he refuse the ta3a my x requested???? And if he believed that the ta3a request could not be approved and that it was malicious because my x sated that beet el ta3a is in a rural area, which is not where we used to live, then why on earth did he not approve of the divorce?? What is the purpose of the verdict?

I find it hard to grasp for the judge basically rejected the continuity of the marriage even though he rejected its ending! I find that absurd because it leaves me (and any other woman in my shoes for that matter) in an unidentified status. It suspends the marriage, which is not approved or acknowledged by religion (not shar3y!)

I don’t get how the judge, the very same judge who ordered my x to pay alimony through court believes that this is a solid marriage that lacks reasons for termination! Who is he trying to fool?? And more importantly where does that lead??

I know khol3 is an option, and I am seriously weighing it despite how unfair it would be for me because I think my case qualifies for a divorce since harm has been inflicted on me, men el na7ya el adabeya like my dad refers to it. But what about before khol3? How do people in my place react and what was expected of them?

I know of marriages that took up to ten years to end just because the husband did not want to give his wife the freedom in fear she would remarry! Is that fair? Is that right? Is that 7alal? And that was a man whom I can fairly call a dedicated father who did not remarry either during his suspended marriage or after, not such an ignorant prick like my x who wouldn’t mind remarrying right now just to spite me!

I wish I could address the judge or whoever in charge of such ridiculous insensible laws that have no regard whatsoever for humanity! I wish I could talk to the judge and explain to him my point of view although I have serious doubts he would listen, let alone understand!

I think I should state out of fairness that I have no personal agenda against the judge, or his integrity for that matter. I don’t believe he had been bought, I do however belief that he had allowed his own prejudices to affect how he thinks in terms of my case as well as any other. I know he must have seen a million other cases that would make him cynical and bitter, cases that would make me sound like a spoilt brat who does not appreciate the bliss she has. I have seen and heard of some that made me feel the same way about myself. But he is a judge, he represents a lot more than his personal opinions, or at least he should, I think it’s his job requirement, and I think he had failed at that.

He comes from a rural masculine background himself that denies women the right of free will; moreover, pins it on religion! He thinks women have no rights further than having their basic needs fulfilled, and from a very limited perspective; not even like a pet, more like a domestic animal. He thinks one should keep a wife for physical purposes away from sin, reproducing, cooking and cleaning; the same way one would keep a cow for milk and meat, but before that for offsprings that would continue providing the same afterwards.

I am sorry if my analogy is rather cruel or inaccurate, but it’s how humiliated it felt after having to deal with him. I don’t mean to trash him or even imply that he’s a bad person; he’s simply a simple man who was raised with the conviction that the traditions he inherited are as holy as the religion he strongly believes in without true understanding. That doesn’t make him a bad person in my book, but it does make him an ignorant one. And for that, I blame the system that put such an ignorant person in this place just because he has integrity; for what good is integrity if the beliefs of its owner are that tainted!!

I wish I could speak my mind to someone in charge, I wish there was something I could do to make a difference because as frustrated as I am right now, I am aware that other people have to deal with what’s worse in more severe ways.

The thought of knowing that I ache -although I have a roof over my head and I can earn good living that fulfills most of my needs as well as my kids’- troubles me because it comes with the realization that there are other people out there who are going through the same, if not worse, yet do not have a home or even a half decent lifestyle. The word “lifestyle” itself may be something other people just can’t afford!

It makes me too embarrassed to wallow and whine; it makes me force myself to be ok because I know I would seem lucky and blessed compared to other people!

Therefore, instead of whining, I ask whoever stops by and reads this to advise if there is anything I could do or anyone I could approach; I want to channel my discontent through something proactive because I promised myself I won’t surrender to self pity.

So dear reader, your advice will be appreciated.

On detachment…

I’ve been thinking about the concept for a while and here is what I could come up with regarding myself; I am incapable of detachment!! I push myself too hard until I am completely able to detach, and no matter how detached I might I think I am, I never really stop caring!

I’ve been thinking about it since the night before yesterday’s court session as my uncle told me right in front of my dad that I was making a big deal out of it worrying!! “mate3esheesh el tagroba” he said! “You know very well that all this will end, either through divorce or khol3, mate7ra2eesh a3sabek ba2a” he explained. I went to bed trying to convince myself with his words; yes, I know it will end, but I am 3aysha el tagroba whether I like it or not!

You see, it’s not really up to me to pretend like I am ok with all of it, with how screwed up the system is, with the fact that a lot of other people who are less privileged are going through every day, people who do not have an back exit door like I do, or simply can’t afford one!! I am not an activist, but this “experience” has given me a perspective on many things I would have never even considered before! It got me out of the bubble where I was once protected from all the nastiness in the world, and forced me into seeing things I still have problems adjusting with, so excuse me for “living it” to the fullest!!

My uncle and I sat at the ahwa right outside Court since it was extremely hot in there and of course no a/c except in his honor’s room, while my lawyer joined as he kept checking if it was our turn to get in yet. They did all they could to make me understand that all this is nothing but an attempt to teach my x a lesson yet preserving my rights, which will make him rather butter since let’s face it, he’s a material jerk. I kept nodding in an attempt to really detach myself from all the anxiety and the digestion problems and headaches I’ve been having over this!

Their words stopped making sense the moment I saw him walking by! I’ve seen him a couple of times at court, but I never felt the way I did yesterday! I felt pain! The kind of pain you feel when someone steps on a sore toe, only that toe was my heart, or something! He walked by, he saw me and I saw him, only we pretended it never happened as he walked into the Court House! A while later I walked in with my uncle and my lawyer as he was walking out to check if his witnesses had arrived or not. I didn’t see him though; but my lawyer said I flinched and got closer to the wall the moment he passed right next to me, which made him stop and look at me in angry surprise! I didn’t even notice!!!

He brought two witnesses, friends of his whom we always went out with and invited home, back when we actually had a home! One of them, the one I always liked the most of his friends, walked right to me to say hi, I smiled back and greeted him politely. Nonetheless, I think I alienated him when he started saying words like elly benkom akbar men keda, and eh elly 7assal 3ashan kol da!! his other friend was feeling two awkward to talk to me, he simply gave me an embarrassed smile inside the judge’s room as he was saying I (I!) sent my x text message saying kalam mesh malabod!! Mind you, I learned my lesson, no talking in the presence of the judge unless permitted, and for all I know my x could have showed him something I never sent!!!

He asked for a permission to talk to the judge, and was granted one (ESHME3NA!!). He said more and more distortions of the truth, it’s disturbing how the order of events could totally change the truth and make it sound so different. I started boiling inside as he continued telling more twisted facts, but I could patiently wait until it was over and I asked the Judge to let me clarify a thing or two, or at least comment. He gave me one of his condescending looks as he said I should have gone before my x because I am the moda3eya! La ya sheikh, so I had the freakin’ right to talk, why the hell did you not let me know, wala shakly me2adeyaha ma7akem leel nahar!!!

Anyway, I told him my x LIED, I told him he made things sound different and briefly rearranged the things he had said! He interrupted me implying that my x and I were spoilt brats who didn’t know how to mind our own business and were guilty of lat we 3agn and went on and on about this being Egypt’s problem, yeah right!

I waited impatiently as he finished interrupting me and in a polite attempt told him he was far off, and that up until my marriage fell apart thanks to my x, I never told anyone about my life or my problems. My big proof was how my witnesses only had so little to share about or life before problems, while his friends didn’t! my lawyer said I kicked a** and that at some point before I started talking he was afraid I’d screw things, but was relieved when he saw me able to control my temper and tame the words that got out of my mouth! He said my words had an ok effect on the judge, which is great considering he’s who he is!

I did not feel the glory though! I was frustrated and maktooma as my uncle referred to me! How could I not!! I really don’t know how to detach myself from all that!!! I saw him, a person I once trusted who is now twisting facts to hurt me that way, and insisting to make me sound like something I am definitely not!! It hurts! People with whom I broke bread came to politely imply that I am out of my mind to let a marriage fall apart! Am I really? Did they even know half of the truth to pass judgment on me that way!! A judge who insists that I have no good grounds for a divorce is the one controlling my life right now! Someone whom I can only feel sorry for; for being too jaded and bitter to be sensitive about the words that shoot out of his mouth!

There will be a ruling at the end of this month, and the sad part is that I can’t help worrying even though I already know the verdict!!! I know all there is to come, and yet I am not able to jump ahead and skip the unpleasant things.

Oh oh!! He had stopped calling since my birthday, but for some reason, he attempted to call 11 times!! He texted me saying, “… let’s end this amicably; nothing will happen except what I want to happen…” I read it to my dad and uncle hoping they would contact him or something, but they nodded with disgust and said he was still the jerk that could not be trusted! Tab ana 3abita for wanting to believe him, I know I am!! Something in me wanted to call him and tell him I want to work things out and get a civil divorce, I wanted to believe that he’s capable of that!!

Ana te3ebt ba2a, we zehe2t!! we mesh 3arfa ezzay mesh ha3eesh el tagroba elly aslant ana madfoona feeha!!! I really don’t wanna be upset over it, any of it!! It’s not like I am addicted to nakad or anything!! Actually a friend of mine called to check on me, and was surprised I was laughing! Yes, I am smiling and laughing all the time, but my mind hurts!! It doesn’t seem to understand why any of this is happening!! UUUUFFFFFFFF