I do not know how to bargain!!!
I am a price-list girl. I ask for the price of whatever it is that I like (I prefer price-tagged stuff), if I think it’s appropriate and affordable, I pay with a big smile and a warm thank you then I leave. I even advertise for it!!!
Life shouldn’t be hard that way when the price is out in the open and you and me (i.e. the customers) are able to make an education and rational decision; or at least what we would like to call our own educated and rational decision.
Why do people insist on embarrassing themselves by asking for a discount or a special price?? Why do my girlfriends flirt with sales people and endure their lame jokes to get it?? My friends make fun of me saying that with my expensive taste and the way I talk, I am more likely to get higher prices!!
Which reminds me; why do people ruin my own victory (yeah, I love buying things) by telling me I could have gotten whatever it is that I got for less? Why do they say lame phrases like “enty edda7ak 3aleiky”? And why do I find things for better prices just around the corner when I have already bought the same item???
I am a loyal and dedicated shopper damn it, with an expensive taste and I don’t mind paying when I think it’s worth it; I deserve more respect that that!! Hell, I demand that respect!
March 23, 2008
To My Oblivia
Around two years ago, I started an older version of this blog, that I named Organized Chaos. It was basically an outlet where I could babble about the joys of motherhood and also rant about how people keep giving me non-applicable advice, namely my in-laws.
I had problems then, but I was trying to talk myself out of dealing with them, facing them, or even feeling them. In that blog, I talked about my inability to forgive; about how tired I was from waiting for good things to happen; about how I felt my life was not going anyway like I planned; all in abstract manner, or at least that was what I thought!
A fellow blogger once told me she liked how I talked so openly about whatever crossed my mind and how she liked the way I made fun of everything. She had no idea I had that many issues, so I just told her I hid behind my alias and said the things I felt comfortable saying.
I remember I tried to let my anger and frustration out by talking about my marriage; I started a series of posts called “Diaries of an Angry Pregnant Woman”. I talked about my childhood and the years before I met him; I just couldn’t talk about him back then… probably because I was still trying to talk myself into staying in the marriage. I couldn’t just get it out in the open that I was badly hurt by him and somehow continue living with him.
I think shortly after I killed that project, I deleted my blog; I don’t remember why exactly, but I guess I was tired of not being able to channel any of my turmoil at that time. It was exactly a year ago when I deleted it. If memory serves, I deleted after I posted about my late nana; I think that was the closest I have come to talking about my personal pain.
Then I started an older version of this blog that lasted three whole months after I gave birth to my mocha. I named it My Oblivia to leave all the thoughts that haunted in my own oblivion, where I could just have them out of my real life, into the blogsphere; a place where they wouldn’t find their way back to haunt me, while on the other hand I could find them if I was ever ready to deal with them.
I deleted it because he asked me if I had a blog and that he wanted its address if I did. I lied about having a blog, and deleted it after we hung up because I hated having to lie the way he always lied to my face. This is how I punished myself for not being able to tell him the truth!!
After deleting the blog, my thoughts remained in my head depriving me of sleep and peace. I felt nostalgic to my little place that seemed to be more than just an oblivion, but a place I could somehow clear my mind… nostalgia and oblivion; two of my favorite words, two words that somehow contradict, yet made more sense together in my head.
It was where I spilled all my tears when he was playing all his sick games and emotionally manipulating me until I was drained. It was where I spent the first few hours of my 26th birthday shortly after he told me every possible hurtful word he could think of. It was the last time I had a death wish. Sad memories I know, but it was the time I finally decided to stop the abuse he subjected me to and return to who I once was; this makes up for how sad the memories are.
My blog was the way I found my way back to ME, at least one of the ways. I figured that if I missed my blog and cared about having it back more than I cared about my x, then I definitely did not need him in my life. This is why two days later, I revived my blog.
By the end of the same month, I came out. The more I wrote about my failure of a marriage, the better I felt, and the more I realized it was ok, and that it wasn’t as terrible as it felt when I kept piling the things I was unable to talk about except with a couple of people who were probably sick and tired of seeing me ache the way I did and unable to tell me to walk out because they were afraid they did not know better. Yeah, my sisters and my two best friends didn’t tell me it was time to walk out until I decided it on my own; I am grateful that way because I know it came from me.
People kept commenting and telling me the nicest and most supportive words, words I thought I would never really hear because my dear father was so afraid of the whole divorce procedure he decided to scare me! It’s ok, I know where he comes from and I know how badly it must hurt to see his big girl failing in what everyone viewed as a big achievement!!
Through my blog, I got to know some quite interesting people who didn’t know who I was, yet somehow knew me through all the things I wrote. It felt good to be heard and understood after years of me speaking to someone who never bothered listening.
I no longer had to hide from anything!! My Oblivia became who I am. The only reason I kept the name is because I wanted to always remember how I got here, and well, I am too lazy to think of something original.
I am not always in my best moods, but I am content and peaceful most of the time, which I think should be better than happy at some point. I know more hardships are meant to come my way one way or another, but I don’t care; not out of carelessness, but because I would like to believe that deep down I have found my strength, my peace, and most importantly my faith to overcome whatever awaits me. For that, I am thankful.
I am thankful for my father for doing the best he could to rise above his fears and prejudices.
I am trying to be thankful for my mother for her compassion that she hides for some reason under thick layers of insults and hurtful accusations.
I am grateful for Maat for waking up early in the morning to listen to my doubts and pat my back as she talked me out of them, although I turned out to be right after all!!!
I am grateful for my Goody for feeling for me that way she always does despite how she always says she’s apathetic. She’s not! She’s the most sympathetic person I have known, and it’s not because I know 7alaleef.
I am thankful for D, for the way she could just listen to me say nothing for almost an hour, and then tell me “I understand”; I miss her and I wish her nothing but the best, God bless her.
I am thankful for H for being with me on the phone saying all the prayers I needed to hear and making me repeat after her until peace found its way back into my heart. I try to show her that I am always here if she ever needs me; however, I don’t think I could ever pay her back.
I am thankful for G for making me laugh so hard when all I wanted was to cry. He’s in my prayers right next to my Nana.
I am thankful for B for always telling me the right words that would make me pause and think of the ways should be done… istikharas are the best :)
I am grateful for N’s beautiful email that helped me realize I wasn’t as radical as I was made to believe by him… N, you have a beautiful soul.
I am grateful for Will E’s Art Therapy recommendation; I never got the chance to see it through, but I got the chance to have a good friend.
There are more people for whom I am more than thankful. Some of them in my real life and some came from My Oblivia, but this was written to thank my blog for getting me out of oblivion to where there is light and hope of better days. Thank you My Oblivia, I wish I could promise I would never desert you, but such promises are silly, I’d rather promise that I will always be thankful.
** Did this just sound like one of those Oscar speeches?!!!!
I had problems then, but I was trying to talk myself out of dealing with them, facing them, or even feeling them. In that blog, I talked about my inability to forgive; about how tired I was from waiting for good things to happen; about how I felt my life was not going anyway like I planned; all in abstract manner, or at least that was what I thought!
A fellow blogger once told me she liked how I talked so openly about whatever crossed my mind and how she liked the way I made fun of everything. She had no idea I had that many issues, so I just told her I hid behind my alias and said the things I felt comfortable saying.
I remember I tried to let my anger and frustration out by talking about my marriage; I started a series of posts called “Diaries of an Angry Pregnant Woman”. I talked about my childhood and the years before I met him; I just couldn’t talk about him back then… probably because I was still trying to talk myself into staying in the marriage. I couldn’t just get it out in the open that I was badly hurt by him and somehow continue living with him.
I think shortly after I killed that project, I deleted my blog; I don’t remember why exactly, but I guess I was tired of not being able to channel any of my turmoil at that time. It was exactly a year ago when I deleted it. If memory serves, I deleted after I posted about my late nana; I think that was the closest I have come to talking about my personal pain.
Then I started an older version of this blog that lasted three whole months after I gave birth to my mocha. I named it My Oblivia to leave all the thoughts that haunted in my own oblivion, where I could just have them out of my real life, into the blogsphere; a place where they wouldn’t find their way back to haunt me, while on the other hand I could find them if I was ever ready to deal with them.
I deleted it because he asked me if I had a blog and that he wanted its address if I did. I lied about having a blog, and deleted it after we hung up because I hated having to lie the way he always lied to my face. This is how I punished myself for not being able to tell him the truth!!
After deleting the blog, my thoughts remained in my head depriving me of sleep and peace. I felt nostalgic to my little place that seemed to be more than just an oblivion, but a place I could somehow clear my mind… nostalgia and oblivion; two of my favorite words, two words that somehow contradict, yet made more sense together in my head.
It was where I spilled all my tears when he was playing all his sick games and emotionally manipulating me until I was drained. It was where I spent the first few hours of my 26th birthday shortly after he told me every possible hurtful word he could think of. It was the last time I had a death wish. Sad memories I know, but it was the time I finally decided to stop the abuse he subjected me to and return to who I once was; this makes up for how sad the memories are.
My blog was the way I found my way back to ME, at least one of the ways. I figured that if I missed my blog and cared about having it back more than I cared about my x, then I definitely did not need him in my life. This is why two days later, I revived my blog.
By the end of the same month, I came out. The more I wrote about my failure of a marriage, the better I felt, and the more I realized it was ok, and that it wasn’t as terrible as it felt when I kept piling the things I was unable to talk about except with a couple of people who were probably sick and tired of seeing me ache the way I did and unable to tell me to walk out because they were afraid they did not know better. Yeah, my sisters and my two best friends didn’t tell me it was time to walk out until I decided it on my own; I am grateful that way because I know it came from me.
People kept commenting and telling me the nicest and most supportive words, words I thought I would never really hear because my dear father was so afraid of the whole divorce procedure he decided to scare me! It’s ok, I know where he comes from and I know how badly it must hurt to see his big girl failing in what everyone viewed as a big achievement!!
Through my blog, I got to know some quite interesting people who didn’t know who I was, yet somehow knew me through all the things I wrote. It felt good to be heard and understood after years of me speaking to someone who never bothered listening.
I no longer had to hide from anything!! My Oblivia became who I am. The only reason I kept the name is because I wanted to always remember how I got here, and well, I am too lazy to think of something original.
I am not always in my best moods, but I am content and peaceful most of the time, which I think should be better than happy at some point. I know more hardships are meant to come my way one way or another, but I don’t care; not out of carelessness, but because I would like to believe that deep down I have found my strength, my peace, and most importantly my faith to overcome whatever awaits me. For that, I am thankful.
I am thankful for my father for doing the best he could to rise above his fears and prejudices.
I am trying to be thankful for my mother for her compassion that she hides for some reason under thick layers of insults and hurtful accusations.
I am grateful for Maat for waking up early in the morning to listen to my doubts and pat my back as she talked me out of them, although I turned out to be right after all!!!
I am grateful for my Goody for feeling for me that way she always does despite how she always says she’s apathetic. She’s not! She’s the most sympathetic person I have known, and it’s not because I know 7alaleef.
I am thankful for D, for the way she could just listen to me say nothing for almost an hour, and then tell me “I understand”; I miss her and I wish her nothing but the best, God bless her.
I am thankful for H for being with me on the phone saying all the prayers I needed to hear and making me repeat after her until peace found its way back into my heart. I try to show her that I am always here if she ever needs me; however, I don’t think I could ever pay her back.
I am thankful for G for making me laugh so hard when all I wanted was to cry. He’s in my prayers right next to my Nana.
I am thankful for B for always telling me the right words that would make me pause and think of the ways should be done… istikharas are the best :)
I am grateful for N’s beautiful email that helped me realize I wasn’t as radical as I was made to believe by him… N, you have a beautiful soul.
I am grateful for Will E’s Art Therapy recommendation; I never got the chance to see it through, but I got the chance to have a good friend.
There are more people for whom I am more than thankful. Some of them in my real life and some came from My Oblivia, but this was written to thank my blog for getting me out of oblivion to where there is light and hope of better days. Thank you My Oblivia, I wish I could promise I would never desert you, but such promises are silly, I’d rather promise that I will always be thankful.
** Did this just sound like one of those Oscar speeches?!!!!
Linger
I always loved that song! Ever since I first listened to it; and I loved it even more when I listened to the live version from the Pavarotti and Friends concert for the Children of Bosnia.
It was strange for all my friends to hear me say how much I loved that particular song because they would tell me things like “I don’t see you getting your heart broken over anyone, you have a careful heart and you’re too strong to be wrapped around anyone’s finger” and later, they used to say with a puzzeled tone “but you're happily married, this song does not suit you”… hehehe *sarcastic laugh*
For the past three years, this song used to make me ache way too much. I have verses of it written all over my notebooks, and the journal I kept, and even on word files!! It didn’t just hurt because he hurt me; it hurt because I let him hurt me. I let him wrap me around his finger, I let myself be foolish enough to believe his lame ass lies, I let him use me, and at some point, I let him change me.
This song made me angry at myself more than anyone else!! I thought I was smarter than that; smarter than to fall for a person like him. That’s what people told me all the time, and that’s what I believed; I am a smart person who wouldn’t let any one take advantage of me… again, hahahaha *ok, I actually find this funny*
This song was my worst nightmare come to life! Knowing that he wasn’t worth it, acknowledging he’s a piece of crap and yet for some reason wondering why he had to let it linger.
A few days ago, as I was driving with my sisters to or from Alexandria (I honestly don’t remember), the song played. And for the first time in the past three years, I sang along with a huge smile on my face; no sadness, no bitterness, no anger, but most of all, no linger.
It’s still a good song, too good to remind me of him.
** this was written a coupel of weeks ago, only posted today for Ran
It was strange for all my friends to hear me say how much I loved that particular song because they would tell me things like “I don’t see you getting your heart broken over anyone, you have a careful heart and you’re too strong to be wrapped around anyone’s finger” and later, they used to say with a puzzeled tone “but you're happily married, this song does not suit you”… hehehe *sarcastic laugh*
For the past three years, this song used to make me ache way too much. I have verses of it written all over my notebooks, and the journal I kept, and even on word files!! It didn’t just hurt because he hurt me; it hurt because I let him hurt me. I let him wrap me around his finger, I let myself be foolish enough to believe his lame ass lies, I let him use me, and at some point, I let him change me.
This song made me angry at myself more than anyone else!! I thought I was smarter than that; smarter than to fall for a person like him. That’s what people told me all the time, and that’s what I believed; I am a smart person who wouldn’t let any one take advantage of me… again, hahahaha *ok, I actually find this funny*
This song was my worst nightmare come to life! Knowing that he wasn’t worth it, acknowledging he’s a piece of crap and yet for some reason wondering why he had to let it linger.
A few days ago, as I was driving with my sisters to or from Alexandria (I honestly don’t remember), the song played. And for the first time in the past three years, I sang along with a huge smile on my face; no sadness, no bitterness, no anger, but most of all, no linger.
It’s still a good song, too good to remind me of him.
** this was written a coupel of weeks ago, only posted today for Ran
March 22, 2008
same song, different angle…
My cousin finally got me some of the oldies I asked him for a couple of months ago; he does not have such a bad memory afterall!!
For the first time in a number of years, I listened to Abdel Haleem’s Balash 3etab. My best friend D once forced me into listening to it shortly after a painful break up. I remember telling her the lyrics we more than ok only I couldn’t relate and then somehow turned the whole thing into a joke and well, we were watching the song as part of the movie, and seeing Abdel Haleem singing always cracked me up. If you’re a Abdel Haleem fan, don’t ask.
I listened to the song yesterday, somehow I related. As a matter of fact, a few words just found their way right into the scars I have, causing them to somehow itch.
I was just telling a friend of mine how I related, except for how the song kept saying “ya habeeby”, he is not habeeby; he’s anything but that. My friend told me that the “ya habeeby” is what made the song brilliant, because it made the song more like an unsent letter to the figure once thought of as a loved one, not the current person who no longer was.
I found myself agreeing, because the lyrics, the way they were written; they would only make sense when they are spoken to the person I once thought he was to me. Other than that, it wouldn’t make sense if I say them to the idiot who ruined it all leaving me nothing but dismay for this person, the one he is right now, wouldn’t understand any of it. The person he is right now would mistake it for lingering feelings, and would accordingly think he has an edge that does not even exist; pathetic really!!
Listening to the song, made me realize a couple of things… it’s been a year since he left for China!! Mocha’s birthday is in two months; the whole drama has been going on for almost a year! Boy does time pass!!
It also made me realize that I still remember there were good moments, moments that hurt to remember; not because they make me feel nostalgic, but because it feels like they were wasted on the wrong person for a long time. So for what it’s worth, all the times I have cried through the past year, it wasn’t over him, it was over me and all the lost chances on his account.
This is what I have to say to the not habeeby him: if you have one ounce of anything good in you, just let me go damn it.
For the first time in a number of years, I listened to Abdel Haleem’s Balash 3etab. My best friend D once forced me into listening to it shortly after a painful break up. I remember telling her the lyrics we more than ok only I couldn’t relate and then somehow turned the whole thing into a joke and well, we were watching the song as part of the movie, and seeing Abdel Haleem singing always cracked me up. If you’re a Abdel Haleem fan, don’t ask.
I listened to the song yesterday, somehow I related. As a matter of fact, a few words just found their way right into the scars I have, causing them to somehow itch.
I was just telling a friend of mine how I related, except for how the song kept saying “ya habeeby”, he is not habeeby; he’s anything but that. My friend told me that the “ya habeeby” is what made the song brilliant, because it made the song more like an unsent letter to the figure once thought of as a loved one, not the current person who no longer was.
I found myself agreeing, because the lyrics, the way they were written; they would only make sense when they are spoken to the person I once thought he was to me. Other than that, it wouldn’t make sense if I say them to the idiot who ruined it all leaving me nothing but dismay for this person, the one he is right now, wouldn’t understand any of it. The person he is right now would mistake it for lingering feelings, and would accordingly think he has an edge that does not even exist; pathetic really!!
Listening to the song, made me realize a couple of things… it’s been a year since he left for China!! Mocha’s birthday is in two months; the whole drama has been going on for almost a year! Boy does time pass!!
It also made me realize that I still remember there were good moments, moments that hurt to remember; not because they make me feel nostalgic, but because it feels like they were wasted on the wrong person for a long time. So for what it’s worth, all the times I have cried through the past year, it wasn’t over him, it was over me and all the lost chances on his account.
This is what I have to say to the not habeeby him: if you have one ounce of anything good in you, just let me go damn it.
March 21, 2008
Shaking things up…
Everyone is having a rather longer weekend… some people with lives traveled and enjoyed some change of scenery, while some others are too lazy to make plans… I am one of the lazy ones; so I had the time to sit and think of the 10 random things Arima asked for…
But first...
The Rules
But first...
The Rules
- - Post 10 random things about yourself
- - Choose 5 people to tag and a reason you chose each person
- - Leave them each a comment directing them to your blog so they know they are it
- - You can’t tag the person who tagged you (you’ll have to make new friends)
- - As a courtesy to the person who tagged you, please let them know when you have posted so they can have the sheer delight and extra work load of reading your answers)
My 10 Random Facts
1. I am a Pepsi addict; seriously, I tried quitting, I tried substituting for all other kinds of drinks, nothing worked… I don’t think my bones will age gracefully, do I hear hip replacement at the age of 50!!
2. I am lucky/unlucky for being able to lose/gain weight so easily… either way I suffer financially with the continuous wardrobe changes!!
3. Up until I was 18 or something, I never listened to Arabic songs (except the oldies my dad played in the car during long road trips, when my walkman was busted or simply ran out of battery)… and when I finally did, it was strictly nothing but Fayrouz until a couple of years ago!!
4. I do not pay much attention to most of my properties; one look at my car, laptop and my cell phone, you’d see I am guilty of abuse!! I watch out for other people’s properties thought, I promise!
5. My hands tend to get all hot and sweaty, especially when I am nervous, until they sweat off all the heat and I am left with freezing palms.
6. For someone who has that much perfumes, I am not big on them; I am more of a natural fragrance girl… vanilla is on the top of my list along with berries, country apple, lime and coconut, and light jasmine fragrance… Bath and Body Works stuff are simply the best and The Body Shop is overrated!
7. As articulate as I can be at times, I find it extremely hard to say the words I mean the most; words that reflect sincere authentic emotions just make me stutter… I think I have emotional paralysis… it got a lot worse thanks to my x.
8. As much as I don’t seem to react properly to advice, I actually listen! When it’s good advice from people whom I value their opinion, it usually keeps haunting me until I do by it!!
9.I have authentic phobia from insects and spiders, I MEAN IT. Idiots who thought it was funny to wave a dead insect in front of me or throw an ant under my shirt scarred me for life that now I see a cockroach and I can start crying hysterically! I am way beyond fixing, so don’t try; it will only scar me some more.
10. Up until I had my kids, I always wanted to die young, I never wanted to turn 50… now that I have them, I wanna wait around until they’re all grown up and not needing me, and then I wanna die before I start getting helpless and sick… I have seen how people can age; it scares the shit out of me to be in that place one day.
The people I tag (in alphabetical order)
- 1. Deeeeeee; A sweet girl who knows how to speak her mind, and has an opinion about almost everything :o)
- 2. Embee; Love the sense of humor and the sarcasm; I just never get a chance to comment enough!
- 3. Gun Barrel Klashnikov; He’s bound to say something that is good arguing material; I just love that (hehe)… Everyone here knows about your Godfather obsession though, so different facts please :p
- 4. Nora; One of the sweetest most kind hearted people I have ever dealt with, God bless her :o)
- 5. Ragin Raven; His blog is always a good read, and he likes Edgar Allan Poe; does it get any darker!!
Come on people, don’t be shy!
March 19, 2008
my daily dose of crap!
It’s funny how some things keep getting on my nerves no matter how often they happen and how I expect them to happen; and therefore, just should get used to them happening!! Not funny, rather sad.
Good days should not be ruined by the annoying things I expect to happen, the things that happen almost on daily basis, so why do I let it rain on my parade?!!
Could it be because I keep hoping for a better day?? Does my optimism make me overlook the fact that some shit is bound to happen anyway, and that I should be fine with it because at least it does not come unexpected; I mean don’t the say “the devil you know is better than the one you don’t”… but it is a devil; who wants that??
I am sitting on my desk, allowing myself to dwell, and remembering the hurtful things I’ve been told; the same things I have been hearing over and over, letting them get to me and make me feel like crying.
But I am a big girl now; I shouldn’t cry, not over this, but why the hell not? I mean it still gets to me, and as common as it could be, it hurts the same way every day, and sometimes even more when I am vulnerable. It has been ruining a lot of good days since as far as I can remember, and what gets to me the most is that I know there is no way to change it or avoid it.
It is my bad!! For some reason, some idiotic reason I thought that when life throws shit at you, other things should work out just to make up for all the shit. And I kinda expected the rough edges to soften, only they got much harder and caused more pain, thank you very much; as always, no support, only more shit thrown my way. THANK YOU!!
Whoever said that fire should burn and snakes should bite and that we shouldn’t blame the pig for not being a giraffe should come up here and tell me right now who should I blame when the giraffe is a freakin’ pig!!
Ok, I am leaving now; all I have left to say are angry offensive words that will only make me feel guilty.
Good days should not be ruined by the annoying things I expect to happen, the things that happen almost on daily basis, so why do I let it rain on my parade?!!
Could it be because I keep hoping for a better day?? Does my optimism make me overlook the fact that some shit is bound to happen anyway, and that I should be fine with it because at least it does not come unexpected; I mean don’t the say “the devil you know is better than the one you don’t”… but it is a devil; who wants that??
I am sitting on my desk, allowing myself to dwell, and remembering the hurtful things I’ve been told; the same things I have been hearing over and over, letting them get to me and make me feel like crying.
But I am a big girl now; I shouldn’t cry, not over this, but why the hell not? I mean it still gets to me, and as common as it could be, it hurts the same way every day, and sometimes even more when I am vulnerable. It has been ruining a lot of good days since as far as I can remember, and what gets to me the most is that I know there is no way to change it or avoid it.
It is my bad!! For some reason, some idiotic reason I thought that when life throws shit at you, other things should work out just to make up for all the shit. And I kinda expected the rough edges to soften, only they got much harder and caused more pain, thank you very much; as always, no support, only more shit thrown my way. THANK YOU!!
Whoever said that fire should burn and snakes should bite and that we shouldn’t blame the pig for not being a giraffe should come up here and tell me right now who should I blame when the giraffe is a freakin’ pig!!
Ok, I am leaving now; all I have left to say are angry offensive words that will only make me feel guilty.
March 16, 2008
Random Wondering!
A while back, a good friend once told me I was a mood setter; when I'm in my happy zone, I possess that energy that just brightens up everyone’s mood… that the happiness I feel is enough to be distributed among all those around me… that it’s a waste to mope around in depression when I can affect people’s moods that way!!! Thank you friend :) For what it’s worth, those words made me feel better when I needed to. Seriously though?!!!!
I am also affected my other people’s moods. The fact that I am a moody person myself can make me go round and round in circles all day long switching moods between rain, rainbows and sunshine!! I can start out laughing, then burst into tears, then just laugh in the middle of my tears as someone points out how crazy I can get.
My friends got the hang of it!! When I am in a bad mood and I have a frown on my face (which I am starting to realize does not last long enough for some people to notice anyway), all it takes is to point out the irony of something or make fun of the other and I join in.
Yep, I am a moody kookoo; I am surprised my friends like me enough to endure the huge emotional mess I can be, especially that between every grand gesture of friendship and the other, I am usually sarcastic, cynical, and too blunt with my opinions, and most recently, self absorbed and emotionally distant.
Which makes me wonder, who wants to be around THIS??!!!!
I am also affected my other people’s moods. The fact that I am a moody person myself can make me go round and round in circles all day long switching moods between rain, rainbows and sunshine!! I can start out laughing, then burst into tears, then just laugh in the middle of my tears as someone points out how crazy I can get.
My friends got the hang of it!! When I am in a bad mood and I have a frown on my face (which I am starting to realize does not last long enough for some people to notice anyway), all it takes is to point out the irony of something or make fun of the other and I join in.
Yep, I am a moody kookoo; I am surprised my friends like me enough to endure the huge emotional mess I can be, especially that between every grand gesture of friendship and the other, I am usually sarcastic, cynical, and too blunt with my opinions, and most recently, self absorbed and emotionally distant.
Which makes me wonder, who wants to be around THIS??!!!!
March 15, 2008
To my best childhood memory
March 15th marks a sad sad memory in my calendar. It’s the day she passed away, my nana (may she RIP).
I remember that day very clearly starting from the moment my uncle K walked in the apartment, my mom’s loud voice which practically woke me up... walking out of my room, the moment I saw K all collapsed on the couch, I knew it. I posted all about that day in my old blog, in painful details.
What I never said in that post is how angry I was at myself after she died! I never said it because until lately, I had not recognized this anger, probably because I had more stuff to be angry about.
I was angry at myself for not taking enough time to sit with her in the hospital instead of stealing few minutes on my way back home from college to see her… I should have never let my fear of hospitals keep me away from her.
I was angry at myself for not sitting by her side day in and day out begging for her to get well and be there to make me feel as loved as she always did… I should have never let my fear of seeing the strongest person I have ever known collapsing that way cripple me from being by her side.
I was angry at myself for not crying when K held me in his arms saying “khalas, maba2ash feeh neena”… I should have let my tears flow rivers because I knew I would miss her, even when I believed death was her relief from the pain of being so helpless.
I was angry at myself for going to college the next day and doing my presentation, instead of going with every one else to funeral… I should have allowed myself to grief then, instead of telling myself that she will always be there in my heart, not her grave.
I was angry at myself for not crying as hard as I needed until almost a year had passed… I make up for that by crying so hard every time I realize how much I miss her.
Oh my God, every time I think of her, my eyes are filled with tears, I feel that huge lump in my throat, my nose starts running, and I start trembling. Someone told me that our tears over our dead loved ones cause them discomfort. I don’t know that for sure but I make up for my inability to control my tears by praying for her as much as I can and wishing her the best one can get; prayers do help, so I have been told, and so I believe.
Once I start relaxing, I smile and think of her, and start reminiscing… her words… her wits… her slightly tanned skin… her always red cheeks… her beautiful white hair that she used to hide her face with, as an attempt to play with me when I was little… her warm hug that used to make me as safe and protected as I have never felt… her rice pudding… her cooking… how she used to teach me how to roll vine leaves, to work on ka7k el 3eed with that thing… how she’d check if I had washed the glass of water and before filling it up and giving to her… how she’d tell me that rhyming prayer, I seem to fail to remember… all the pet names she used to call me with…and more and more beautiful memories that make my heart feel warm despite the pain of missing her.
Thank you Maat for writing this post about her when I first mentioned on my old blog that I miss her, thanks for dedicating it to me; it inspired me to remember the good things and it reminded me of things I had almost forgotten.
So that’s why March sucks!! That’s why it’s wrong to think Moher’s Day when my own mother figure died 6 days ahead of it!!
And also, my last dream of her was in March 2006, right after my ERCP. It was a scary dream with a golden scorpion (!!!) trying to bite me and my baby sister; she was the one who warned me soon enough to jump and push it away, and the one who told me not to worry as I freaked out…
I miss having her in my dreams; I miss the peace I felt waking up giggling… I hope I would dream of her this month, perhaps I can forgive March then.
I remember that day very clearly starting from the moment my uncle K walked in the apartment, my mom’s loud voice which practically woke me up... walking out of my room, the moment I saw K all collapsed on the couch, I knew it. I posted all about that day in my old blog, in painful details.
What I never said in that post is how angry I was at myself after she died! I never said it because until lately, I had not recognized this anger, probably because I had more stuff to be angry about.
I was angry at myself for not taking enough time to sit with her in the hospital instead of stealing few minutes on my way back home from college to see her… I should have never let my fear of hospitals keep me away from her.
I was angry at myself for not sitting by her side day in and day out begging for her to get well and be there to make me feel as loved as she always did… I should have never let my fear of seeing the strongest person I have ever known collapsing that way cripple me from being by her side.
I was angry at myself for not crying when K held me in his arms saying “khalas, maba2ash feeh neena”… I should have let my tears flow rivers because I knew I would miss her, even when I believed death was her relief from the pain of being so helpless.
I was angry at myself for going to college the next day and doing my presentation, instead of going with every one else to funeral… I should have allowed myself to grief then, instead of telling myself that she will always be there in my heart, not her grave.
I was angry at myself for not crying as hard as I needed until almost a year had passed… I make up for that by crying so hard every time I realize how much I miss her.
Oh my God, every time I think of her, my eyes are filled with tears, I feel that huge lump in my throat, my nose starts running, and I start trembling. Someone told me that our tears over our dead loved ones cause them discomfort. I don’t know that for sure but I make up for my inability to control my tears by praying for her as much as I can and wishing her the best one can get; prayers do help, so I have been told, and so I believe.
Once I start relaxing, I smile and think of her, and start reminiscing… her words… her wits… her slightly tanned skin… her always red cheeks… her beautiful white hair that she used to hide her face with, as an attempt to play with me when I was little… her warm hug that used to make me as safe and protected as I have never felt… her rice pudding… her cooking… how she used to teach me how to roll vine leaves, to work on ka7k el 3eed with that thing… how she’d check if I had washed the glass of water and before filling it up and giving to her… how she’d tell me that rhyming prayer, I seem to fail to remember… all the pet names she used to call me with…and more and more beautiful memories that make my heart feel warm despite the pain of missing her.
Thank you Maat for writing this post about her when I first mentioned on my old blog that I miss her, thanks for dedicating it to me; it inspired me to remember the good things and it reminded me of things I had almost forgotten.
So that’s why March sucks!! That’s why it’s wrong to think Moher’s Day when my own mother figure died 6 days ahead of it!!
And also, my last dream of her was in March 2006, right after my ERCP. It was a scary dream with a golden scorpion (!!!) trying to bite me and my baby sister; she was the one who warned me soon enough to jump and push it away, and the one who told me not to worry as I freaked out…
I miss having her in my dreams; I miss the peace I felt waking up giggling… I hope I would dream of her this month, perhaps I can forgive March then.
March 12, 2008
Jinxed!!
I am not big on the whole evil eye concept. I acknowledge 7assad, but I don’t dwell, and I don’t blame it for every misfortune, and I sure as hell do not point fingers at people who point out things like how I glow, or how I look too happy for someone in my delicate situation.
HOWEVER, I am not in a good mood, thank you very much. What makes it worse is that I don’t have a good reason to feel cold and blue the way I do right now. Ok, I have silly small reasons; but they are more like a trigger for something that was already there waiting to happen. Even my system was waiting for small things to collapse; the pain in my ribs, the slight nose bleed; it’s fair to say today isn’t great, until now that is.
I hate March, I feel like I await bad things to happen in March. As the 15th approaches I can feel my heart clenching, like it’s waiting for anything to justify some abrupt waterworks. I hate March and I hate Mother’s Day. My kids should totally celebrate having me as their mother in a different month; if they ever think it’s something worth celebrating anyway.
So all of the other things that happened today didn’t help; Mocha’s fever, X’s desperate attempt of an email trying to awaken a nostalgia that died long ago, the hundreds of unanswered calls ringing in Souad Massi’s sad voice saying over and over that he’s unworthy, and finally my phone call with my favorite aunt.
Thinking that my good mood would help me patch things up since I just decided to keep my distance around five months ago (ok, I kinda hold a grudge, sue me!), I called to tell her that her daughter should totally check those amazing pair of pants I saw the other day, and we kept talking.
She was nice and sweet as ever it almost worked for me. Until, her once-an-amazingly-cute-little-boy-now-an-almost-a-grown-up son walked in and asked her to say ‘hi’ for him, and that was when it started. She talked about him. Why?? Why do people find it hard to believe that I am no longer in love with someone I was once in love with? Is it ok for people in love to endure that much abuse?
For the last time, my kids do not need him, and the fact that he put an old photo of him and Beem as a profile picture on facebook does not make him a good father. What kind of a good father wouldn’t recognize his now a 10 month old infant, who by the way does not get the concept of a father and wouldn't recognise him whatsoever? What kind of father spends the last five months not trying to work things out for his own kids? Ento 3ayzeen teganenoony!!!
Ok, I was mostly pissed because as I was talking with my aunt, she mentioned my cousin added him on facebook! So I checked to find that both her son and her husband added him!!! Damn, I don’t want more people getting in the middle, it’s not right. I don’t wanna have to explain to every one who hears about the divorce that it was because he cheated and continuously hurt me. I did it on my blog to be able to keep my mouth shut in real life. And through my blog, a lot of people had already known.
I can’t seem to breathe properly; I feel the air is too heavy for my lungs to take in! My palms are cold and sweaty! I feel like I wanna snap at someone; whoever provokes me today is a dead man. Mama, stay away from me for the love of GOD.
I miss my daddy, I miss D more, and I miss my Nana (may she RIP) the most :( looks like it will be another cleaning day at home! Or shopping (oh God, let it not be shopping, I am too broke)!!
HOWEVER, I am not in a good mood, thank you very much. What makes it worse is that I don’t have a good reason to feel cold and blue the way I do right now. Ok, I have silly small reasons; but they are more like a trigger for something that was already there waiting to happen. Even my system was waiting for small things to collapse; the pain in my ribs, the slight nose bleed; it’s fair to say today isn’t great, until now that is.
I hate March, I feel like I await bad things to happen in March. As the 15th approaches I can feel my heart clenching, like it’s waiting for anything to justify some abrupt waterworks. I hate March and I hate Mother’s Day. My kids should totally celebrate having me as their mother in a different month; if they ever think it’s something worth celebrating anyway.
So all of the other things that happened today didn’t help; Mocha’s fever, X’s desperate attempt of an email trying to awaken a nostalgia that died long ago, the hundreds of unanswered calls ringing in Souad Massi’s sad voice saying over and over that he’s unworthy, and finally my phone call with my favorite aunt.
Thinking that my good mood would help me patch things up since I just decided to keep my distance around five months ago (ok, I kinda hold a grudge, sue me!), I called to tell her that her daughter should totally check those amazing pair of pants I saw the other day, and we kept talking.
She was nice and sweet as ever it almost worked for me. Until, her once-an-amazingly-cute-little-boy-now-an-almost-a-grown-up son walked in and asked her to say ‘hi’ for him, and that was when it started. She talked about him. Why?? Why do people find it hard to believe that I am no longer in love with someone I was once in love with? Is it ok for people in love to endure that much abuse?
For the last time, my kids do not need him, and the fact that he put an old photo of him and Beem as a profile picture on facebook does not make him a good father. What kind of a good father wouldn’t recognize his now a 10 month old infant, who by the way does not get the concept of a father and wouldn't recognise him whatsoever? What kind of father spends the last five months not trying to work things out for his own kids? Ento 3ayzeen teganenoony!!!
Ok, I was mostly pissed because as I was talking with my aunt, she mentioned my cousin added him on facebook! So I checked to find that both her son and her husband added him!!! Damn, I don’t want more people getting in the middle, it’s not right. I don’t wanna have to explain to every one who hears about the divorce that it was because he cheated and continuously hurt me. I did it on my blog to be able to keep my mouth shut in real life. And through my blog, a lot of people had already known.
I can’t seem to breathe properly; I feel the air is too heavy for my lungs to take in! My palms are cold and sweaty! I feel like I wanna snap at someone; whoever provokes me today is a dead man. Mama, stay away from me for the love of GOD.
I miss my daddy, I miss D more, and I miss my Nana (may she RIP) the most :( looks like it will be another cleaning day at home! Or shopping (oh God, let it not be shopping, I am too broke)!!
March 10, 2008
On plans
People overrate plans, or do they??
I am not a planner, never was!! The most I have planned back in the day was a short to-do list that I never got to mark all of it because I got distracted doing other things.
Growing up with a father like mine, I could never have any long term plans of trips with friends, courses, training, or simply hanging out!! How could I when I used to spend every weekend on Cairo-Alex Desert road and back!! And summers, well, there was the family vacation wherever and the two weeks a month in Alexandria.
So if my appreciation for plans is not that big, it’s because I had to be flexible enough to make my plans within my dad’s plans; sometimes even too flexible to have plans anyway!! I mean what’s the use of plans if you cannot control most of the external factors??!!
When I got married, I was the perfect wife that way, no plans of my own!! I mean hey let’s go, why not! Let’s stay in, cool!! I am going with friends, ok, I will call some of my friends and go see them or have them over, or even watch a movie or check on my favorite aunt!! One thing I was really good at, filling my free time; it’s only natural when I put too many things on hold and wait for the time and space to make them happen.
Until I decided that I needed my own plan now that I am on my own, in a sense! And since I am an amateur, my one plan was not air tight. I knew it!! Not that this particular plan would fall to pieces, but the whole idea of a plan not standing long enough.
I am not upset about it, actually, the fact that I am not upset about it makes me glad I am back to my old self; the person who didn’t dwell much on things she couldn’t control, which makes me wonder what this disgrace of husband did to me!!
I mean in the past few years I had turned into a jealous control freak that fights with herself before him to keep all the anger and range under control. I drove myself crazy; but this is what happens when you don’t feel the security and stability you need, you go crazy and lose all connections with who you originally are.
He made me think it was because this is who I was that he cheated, when I remember very clearly who I was before I met him. I was everyone’s friend, the girl you would confide in and know she wouldn’t let you down and who would always make you see the full half of the cup and have your peace with the empty half; big believer in silver linings.
Of course I had an attitude, of course there was a nasty side to me, but the people I loved and cared for had never seen it. Ok sometimes my sisters see that, but they usually have it coming! Yes you do girls ;)
Haaah, it doesn’t matter any more. I am fine with it all, because I am fine with who I am right now, and where I am; because I can relate to who I once was and who I planned on being for a while. Did I say planned?!!! Ok, wanted is a better word. I supposed I jinxed what I wanted to be by calling it a plan at some point!
Even my post about plans discussed an unplanned thought or two!! Yep, plans do not work for me, and it’s ok; perhaps living the moment is not a bad thing; it’s what I was meant to do, so I should just sit back and enjoy it.
** stretching my arms and smiling... yes B, I am becoming all cat-ish
I worry though, big time… I may write about the restless fetch-dog that I am, but that’s another post for later; as long as I don’t plan to write it :)
I am not a planner, never was!! The most I have planned back in the day was a short to-do list that I never got to mark all of it because I got distracted doing other things.
Growing up with a father like mine, I could never have any long term plans of trips with friends, courses, training, or simply hanging out!! How could I when I used to spend every weekend on Cairo-Alex Desert road and back!! And summers, well, there was the family vacation wherever and the two weeks a month in Alexandria.
So if my appreciation for plans is not that big, it’s because I had to be flexible enough to make my plans within my dad’s plans; sometimes even too flexible to have plans anyway!! I mean what’s the use of plans if you cannot control most of the external factors??!!
When I got married, I was the perfect wife that way, no plans of my own!! I mean hey let’s go, why not! Let’s stay in, cool!! I am going with friends, ok, I will call some of my friends and go see them or have them over, or even watch a movie or check on my favorite aunt!! One thing I was really good at, filling my free time; it’s only natural when I put too many things on hold and wait for the time and space to make them happen.
Until I decided that I needed my own plan now that I am on my own, in a sense! And since I am an amateur, my one plan was not air tight. I knew it!! Not that this particular plan would fall to pieces, but the whole idea of a plan not standing long enough.
I am not upset about it, actually, the fact that I am not upset about it makes me glad I am back to my old self; the person who didn’t dwell much on things she couldn’t control, which makes me wonder what this disgrace of husband did to me!!
I mean in the past few years I had turned into a jealous control freak that fights with herself before him to keep all the anger and range under control. I drove myself crazy; but this is what happens when you don’t feel the security and stability you need, you go crazy and lose all connections with who you originally are.
He made me think it was because this is who I was that he cheated, when I remember very clearly who I was before I met him. I was everyone’s friend, the girl you would confide in and know she wouldn’t let you down and who would always make you see the full half of the cup and have your peace with the empty half; big believer in silver linings.
Of course I had an attitude, of course there was a nasty side to me, but the people I loved and cared for had never seen it. Ok sometimes my sisters see that, but they usually have it coming! Yes you do girls ;)
Haaah, it doesn’t matter any more. I am fine with it all, because I am fine with who I am right now, and where I am; because I can relate to who I once was and who I planned on being for a while. Did I say planned?!!! Ok, wanted is a better word. I supposed I jinxed what I wanted to be by calling it a plan at some point!
Even my post about plans discussed an unplanned thought or two!! Yep, plans do not work for me, and it’s ok; perhaps living the moment is not a bad thing; it’s what I was meant to do, so I should just sit back and enjoy it.
** stretching my arms and smiling... yes B, I am becoming all cat-ish
I worry though, big time… I may write about the restless fetch-dog that I am, but that’s another post for later; as long as I don’t plan to write it :)
March 8, 2008
I don’t get it, I just don’t!!
Is my dad testing me?? I mean does he still not know where I stand?? What the hell is he thinking telling me to consider the possibility of returning to him????
I mean mom, well, her words mean nothing, she can say all about how he had his good moments of how I can be intolerable, but my dad!!! I am disappointed, big time.
No. It’s a very simple word and I plan to stick to it; no one can make me go back if all I say is NO. I am no longer listing the reasons and I am no longer even selling the case or trying to prove that my kids are better off being with me on my own than with him.
I am so tired of saying it over and over because no matter how much I do, no one really knows that I know I did my best and that I did try to make it work until I no longer could. If it didn’t work then, there is no chance in hell it would work when I don’t want it to.
Trying to guilt me into my kids’ best interest won’t work; I will not let it work. I am allowing myself to be selfish on this one; my kids’ best interest is in my happiness and in my peace, which are no where near him.
So stop telling me I am not that great a mother; I already know, and I am trying to be better. And don’t you dare tell me I can’t do it alone; because I know that if I can’t do it alone, I won’t do it with him anyway.
And by the way, telling me that you know how unhappy I am; having to live here, you have no idea. Having to return to this home, and in this way has been a nightmare I tried to avoid for so long until I realized I there’s much worse, him. If you think I like the invasion of privacy, mama’s continuous insults, feeling like a burden every other day, think again!! I am just more willing to take it all over being around him, at any given day. Because as obnoxious as everyone here gets to be from time to time, and as hurt as I can get because of insensitive words said in moments of anger, it’s much less abuse than what I have been subjected to with him.
So, just to be clear; NO, and I am not going back because this is what I owe myself after all that’s been said and done.
My kids, they will have to live by what’s best for me until they can decide for themselves. I am not denying them a father; he can be there for them if he can handle it, but he is no longer invited to be there for me no matter how he might want to. And spare me; it’s not because I am hurt or sore, it’s not because I am being emotional. It’s for all the logical reasons; he’s not to be trusted or respected.
I have moved on, so why can’t everyone????!!!
I mean mom, well, her words mean nothing, she can say all about how he had his good moments of how I can be intolerable, but my dad!!! I am disappointed, big time.
No. It’s a very simple word and I plan to stick to it; no one can make me go back if all I say is NO. I am no longer listing the reasons and I am no longer even selling the case or trying to prove that my kids are better off being with me on my own than with him.
I am so tired of saying it over and over because no matter how much I do, no one really knows that I know I did my best and that I did try to make it work until I no longer could. If it didn’t work then, there is no chance in hell it would work when I don’t want it to.
Trying to guilt me into my kids’ best interest won’t work; I will not let it work. I am allowing myself to be selfish on this one; my kids’ best interest is in my happiness and in my peace, which are no where near him.
So stop telling me I am not that great a mother; I already know, and I am trying to be better. And don’t you dare tell me I can’t do it alone; because I know that if I can’t do it alone, I won’t do it with him anyway.
And by the way, telling me that you know how unhappy I am; having to live here, you have no idea. Having to return to this home, and in this way has been a nightmare I tried to avoid for so long until I realized I there’s much worse, him. If you think I like the invasion of privacy, mama’s continuous insults, feeling like a burden every other day, think again!! I am just more willing to take it all over being around him, at any given day. Because as obnoxious as everyone here gets to be from time to time, and as hurt as I can get because of insensitive words said in moments of anger, it’s much less abuse than what I have been subjected to with him.
So, just to be clear; NO, and I am not going back because this is what I owe myself after all that’s been said and done.
My kids, they will have to live by what’s best for me until they can decide for themselves. I am not denying them a father; he can be there for them if he can handle it, but he is no longer invited to be there for me no matter how he might want to. And spare me; it’s not because I am hurt or sore, it’s not because I am being emotional. It’s for all the logical reasons; he’s not to be trusted or respected.
I have moved on, so why can’t everyone????!!!
March 5, 2008
On Signs
Do you believe in signs; as in things that happen along the way that help put you on your right path, or the other for that matter?
I think I believe in them! Yes, I think; I always use the word ‘think’ to neutralize anything I am about to say; it’s a Gemini thing I guess!
Back to signs, I am all for the notion “everything happens of a reason”; nonetheless, I continue to miserably fail in figuring out the right reason at the right time!
So when things are going rather smooth and easy, is it “because it is meant to be”? or “it is blessed”? or is it “the calm before the storm”??
And when things are hard and complicated, is it “because it is not meant to be”? or “it is jinxed”? or is it “it’s a test to see how badly we want it and to see what we’re truly made of”? or “nothing really comes easy in life”?
While I am at it… which one is it?? Should we fight for what we want and what we believe?? Or should we let it go and if it is meant to be it will happen anyway; if it’s ours, nothing will change that??
My problem is not about believing in signs I guess; it’s interpreting them that I find very tricky. I am in peace with my destiny; I know that all that had happened somehow happened for a reason. I kinda figured some of the reasons, only rather late! I saw the signs early on, I just misinterpreted them.
I learned a lot along the way; I learned how to control my temper, how to stop myself from blurting the wrong things when I am angry, I learned to think of consequences, I learned to put myself in the other person’s shoes, I learned to take it easy with the worrying and the obsessing, I learned that I am incapable of inflicting harm, I learned to have more faith, I learned to have a little patience, I learned to let go and not look behind, I even learned to stop asking ‘why’ when knowing is useless!
I haven’t however learnt one thing, or two; I haven’t learned how to totally trust my instincts without thinking I could be wrong and that things could be the other way around; and hence, I haven’t learned how to interpret any signs.
So now, signs just keep on haunting me instead of giving me peace and reassurance!! What a mess? And just when I thought I knew how things would go!
Nonetheless, I can’t stop smiling... for that i am eternally grateful :) I just keep forgetting to breathe.
I think I believe in them! Yes, I think; I always use the word ‘think’ to neutralize anything I am about to say; it’s a Gemini thing I guess!
Back to signs, I am all for the notion “everything happens of a reason”; nonetheless, I continue to miserably fail in figuring out the right reason at the right time!
So when things are going rather smooth and easy, is it “because it is meant to be”? or “it is blessed”? or is it “the calm before the storm”??
And when things are hard and complicated, is it “because it is not meant to be”? or “it is jinxed”? or is it “it’s a test to see how badly we want it and to see what we’re truly made of”? or “nothing really comes easy in life”?
While I am at it… which one is it?? Should we fight for what we want and what we believe?? Or should we let it go and if it is meant to be it will happen anyway; if it’s ours, nothing will change that??
My problem is not about believing in signs I guess; it’s interpreting them that I find very tricky. I am in peace with my destiny; I know that all that had happened somehow happened for a reason. I kinda figured some of the reasons, only rather late! I saw the signs early on, I just misinterpreted them.
I learned a lot along the way; I learned how to control my temper, how to stop myself from blurting the wrong things when I am angry, I learned to think of consequences, I learned to put myself in the other person’s shoes, I learned to take it easy with the worrying and the obsessing, I learned that I am incapable of inflicting harm, I learned to have more faith, I learned to have a little patience, I learned to let go and not look behind, I even learned to stop asking ‘why’ when knowing is useless!
I haven’t however learnt one thing, or two; I haven’t learned how to totally trust my instincts without thinking I could be wrong and that things could be the other way around; and hence, I haven’t learned how to interpret any signs.
So now, signs just keep on haunting me instead of giving me peace and reassurance!! What a mess? And just when I thought I knew how things would go!
Nonetheless, I can’t stop smiling... for that i am eternally grateful :) I just keep forgetting to breathe.
March 2, 2008
Yes, it’s true… some my friends are dumb!
Dumb is the least I can describe that friend with! I mean don’t get me wrong, I love her, but she can make me wanna slap her silly because of the shit she utters every time we talk about relationships!!
She is my age, our fathers are best friends since college, but we only became friends around 9 years ago! She’s so easy to talk to once you get past the harsh sarcasm and lesan taweel. And well, belonging to my family, I am pretty much used to it, so it only took me one night at their place to open up to her, and since then, we’ve been good friends. Da mayemna3sh enaha 7omara.
I mean she’s been there all that time!! She’s seen me falling for him; it is worth mentioning she was the only one in my friends who liked him, which I find disturbing especially that he never really liked her!! Her exact words were “now you can stop giving me crap about the way I act with my boyfriend, now that you’re in love”. She was dreaming; I gave her more crap.
She was the first one I talked to about my disappointment in him after I talked to D. Actually she was making a stupid comment about how she hoped she and her fiancé (now her husband) would have the perfect fairytale like I did, so I started laughing hysterically until my laughter turned to tears, then sobbing. This was how she found out, me crying and saying those words out loud after I promised D and myself I would forget and pretend it never happened.
Since then she’s been updated with the crap he did. She was with me on the phone when I was going to the airport to pick him up after his glorious return. She was there when I had lost hope, and acknowledged that my marriage was over, and she had the NERVE to talk me out of it and tell me that there still might be hope. I have him to thank for waking me up soon enough by being as obnoxious as ever.
She was stupid enough to leave me a comment after all that on the one family photo I still have on FaceBook with him and my older son, saying something like “rabena yekhaleeko le ba3d we ye7fazko men el 3een” thinking I wouldn’t be able to reply since not all of my FB contacts have a clue. Taba3an etshatamet.
Now she actually dares to have this phone conversation with me:
Her: so how is he?
Me: stop asking me about him, I don’t know anything about him anymore!! Try to understand that it is over
Her: come on, 7 years do not just end like that!
Me: they do… you actually saw how they ended, betetkalemy fe eh?!!!
Her: but all men cheat! I mean you should consider his other qualities
Me: enty habla wala shaklek keda, ok, let’s say cheating is a given, which u know I do not even buy, but what other qualities? Humiliating me to everyone, wel fadaye7? Insulting me? Walking out on me when I was sick in the hospital? Not checking on our kids? Calling me crazy until I almost believed it? Lying to me for seven freaking years because he loved me?
Her: yeah yeah I know, I am totally with you… but no marriage is happy; all married women complain, all married women do not like their husbands, but they endure them because of other considerations… in your case, the kids… perhaps law konty betoolek kont 2a2olek fe dahya
Me: (I had an itching comment about her and her husband only I decided to keep it to myself) ok, try to get that... I will not remain in this marriage because of my kids… I won’t even say it’s better for them this way, I will just say that I will not force myself to be miserable for anyone; I can’t make anyone happy if I am unhappy, 7awly tefhamy
Her: ana fahmaky wallahy
Me: ommal eh, ghatata? Walla ghabawa?!!
Her: but all women endure shit from their husbands, kol el settat bel nesbalhom egwazhom welad kalb bel keteer ba3d awel sana gawaz
Me: that wasn’t the case for me; he meant something all the time we were together until he ruined it!!!
Her: manty elly 7ala ghareeba, el nas el tanya heya el norm, enty 7ala shazza
Me: great… then let me remain the way I am and walk out of this while other women would choose stay… I will not listen to any of that, I am not like other women who pretend to be happy for whatever social reasons… he is not worth any of it, and I already wasted enough on him… not a bone in my body is yearning for him, so why should I go back, mafeesh qabool, isn’t that what it’s about… you say I was 7ala shazza because I was still in love with him after a few years of marriage, because I could still see something loveable about him, well, I tell you if I lost that, I have no reason to stay… and of all people you know I didn’t just run out of love, I also had resentment and hatred, you know all the nasty details and you hated him for doing this to your friend, so don’t stand and defend this marriage… gawaz eh el mo2ref elly yastamer based on that
I think the tone I said the last part with scared her off. If not, I can take the next ride to Alexandria and personally kick her a$$.
She is my age, our fathers are best friends since college, but we only became friends around 9 years ago! She’s so easy to talk to once you get past the harsh sarcasm and lesan taweel. And well, belonging to my family, I am pretty much used to it, so it only took me one night at their place to open up to her, and since then, we’ve been good friends. Da mayemna3sh enaha 7omara.
I mean she’s been there all that time!! She’s seen me falling for him; it is worth mentioning she was the only one in my friends who liked him, which I find disturbing especially that he never really liked her!! Her exact words were “now you can stop giving me crap about the way I act with my boyfriend, now that you’re in love”. She was dreaming; I gave her more crap.
She was the first one I talked to about my disappointment in him after I talked to D. Actually she was making a stupid comment about how she hoped she and her fiancé (now her husband) would have the perfect fairytale like I did, so I started laughing hysterically until my laughter turned to tears, then sobbing. This was how she found out, me crying and saying those words out loud after I promised D and myself I would forget and pretend it never happened.
Since then she’s been updated with the crap he did. She was with me on the phone when I was going to the airport to pick him up after his glorious return. She was there when I had lost hope, and acknowledged that my marriage was over, and she had the NERVE to talk me out of it and tell me that there still might be hope. I have him to thank for waking me up soon enough by being as obnoxious as ever.
She was stupid enough to leave me a comment after all that on the one family photo I still have on FaceBook with him and my older son, saying something like “rabena yekhaleeko le ba3d we ye7fazko men el 3een” thinking I wouldn’t be able to reply since not all of my FB contacts have a clue. Taba3an etshatamet.
Now she actually dares to have this phone conversation with me:
Her: so how is he?
Me: stop asking me about him, I don’t know anything about him anymore!! Try to understand that it is over
Her: come on, 7 years do not just end like that!
Me: they do… you actually saw how they ended, betetkalemy fe eh?!!!
Her: but all men cheat! I mean you should consider his other qualities
Me: enty habla wala shaklek keda, ok, let’s say cheating is a given, which u know I do not even buy, but what other qualities? Humiliating me to everyone, wel fadaye7? Insulting me? Walking out on me when I was sick in the hospital? Not checking on our kids? Calling me crazy until I almost believed it? Lying to me for seven freaking years because he loved me?
Her: yeah yeah I know, I am totally with you… but no marriage is happy; all married women complain, all married women do not like their husbands, but they endure them because of other considerations… in your case, the kids… perhaps law konty betoolek kont 2a2olek fe dahya
Me: (I had an itching comment about her and her husband only I decided to keep it to myself) ok, try to get that... I will not remain in this marriage because of my kids… I won’t even say it’s better for them this way, I will just say that I will not force myself to be miserable for anyone; I can’t make anyone happy if I am unhappy, 7awly tefhamy
Her: ana fahmaky wallahy
Me: ommal eh, ghatata? Walla ghabawa?!!
Her: but all women endure shit from their husbands, kol el settat bel nesbalhom egwazhom welad kalb bel keteer ba3d awel sana gawaz
Me: that wasn’t the case for me; he meant something all the time we were together until he ruined it!!!
Her: manty elly 7ala ghareeba, el nas el tanya heya el norm, enty 7ala shazza
Me: great… then let me remain the way I am and walk out of this while other women would choose stay… I will not listen to any of that, I am not like other women who pretend to be happy for whatever social reasons… he is not worth any of it, and I already wasted enough on him… not a bone in my body is yearning for him, so why should I go back, mafeesh qabool, isn’t that what it’s about… you say I was 7ala shazza because I was still in love with him after a few years of marriage, because I could still see something loveable about him, well, I tell you if I lost that, I have no reason to stay… and of all people you know I didn’t just run out of love, I also had resentment and hatred, you know all the nasty details and you hated him for doing this to your friend, so don’t stand and defend this marriage… gawaz eh el mo2ref elly yastamer based on that
I think the tone I said the last part with scared her off. If not, I can take the next ride to Alexandria and personally kick her a$$.
March 1, 2008
Alone again, naturally
Why do people hate alone? Why do they fear alone? I don’t think alone is bad; there are much worse things.
Alone is my favorite poem by Edgar Allan Poe. Alone is what I am in every emotional moment, and I don’t hate it, nor am I afraid of it; probably because I have seen what’s worse, which is being with someone who made me yearn for being alone.
It’s been a while since I felt upset about anything lately, but of course something had to happen and change that… yesterday was the worst night in a while, and today wasn’t great either. And this is when it hit me, lying in bed holding both of my kids and trying so hard not to let myself cry; I am alone!
I didn’t want to call my aunt to rant, I didn’t want to call H for some moral support, I didn’t want to share my moment of weakness with anyone. I kept talking to myself and reassuring myself it will be ok, I know it will be, and when it does, I want it to be my own work, without anyone’s help!!
Years ago, I felt that way, and I called him thinking he was a shoulder I could cry on… and here I am right now because of that stupid notion. I am right here in this very place because I mistakenly thought he would be there for me instead of depending on myself.
Alone is not bad, alone is just fine. This is what I have to tell myself every time I feel that overwhelmed. I should not need anyone to make me feel better, I should know how to feel better on my own; this is the only way I wouldn’t get disappointed.
I did not let the negative energy consume me; I didn’t mope in my bed and let half awake sleep take advantage of me. I got up and started cleaning up; that’s the best I can do now when I am feeling angry and/or hurt, clean up! It’s funny because I am quite the messy person by nature, but now I know exactly where everything goes, it took me around an hour to fold every item of clothing back to where it belonged. And I did it because I decided to be alone, instead of running to the phone and dialing a friendly number.
Thank you for the hurtful and thoughtless words! They reminded me of all the things I had almost forgotten. They reminded me of why I so wanted to leave before, and they also reminded me that I should not expect help from anyone.
I can do it alone; I would rather do it alone than depend on someone who is bound to let me down making me feel so worthless and inadequate once they get tired of my existence or stop finding great company in my presence.
Alone is my favorite poem by Edgar Allan Poe. Alone is what I am in every emotional moment, and I don’t hate it, nor am I afraid of it; probably because I have seen what’s worse, which is being with someone who made me yearn for being alone.
It’s been a while since I felt upset about anything lately, but of course something had to happen and change that… yesterday was the worst night in a while, and today wasn’t great either. And this is when it hit me, lying in bed holding both of my kids and trying so hard not to let myself cry; I am alone!
I didn’t want to call my aunt to rant, I didn’t want to call H for some moral support, I didn’t want to share my moment of weakness with anyone. I kept talking to myself and reassuring myself it will be ok, I know it will be, and when it does, I want it to be my own work, without anyone’s help!!
Years ago, I felt that way, and I called him thinking he was a shoulder I could cry on… and here I am right now because of that stupid notion. I am right here in this very place because I mistakenly thought he would be there for me instead of depending on myself.
Alone is not bad, alone is just fine. This is what I have to tell myself every time I feel that overwhelmed. I should not need anyone to make me feel better, I should know how to feel better on my own; this is the only way I wouldn’t get disappointed.
I did not let the negative energy consume me; I didn’t mope in my bed and let half awake sleep take advantage of me. I got up and started cleaning up; that’s the best I can do now when I am feeling angry and/or hurt, clean up! It’s funny because I am quite the messy person by nature, but now I know exactly where everything goes, it took me around an hour to fold every item of clothing back to where it belonged. And I did it because I decided to be alone, instead of running to the phone and dialing a friendly number.
Thank you for the hurtful and thoughtless words! They reminded me of all the things I had almost forgotten. They reminded me of why I so wanted to leave before, and they also reminded me that I should not expect help from anyone.
I can do it alone; I would rather do it alone than depend on someone who is bound to let me down making me feel so worthless and inadequate once they get tired of my existence or stop finding great company in my presence.
February 28, 2008
My Dear Uncle O…
Every time I think of Uncle O, I feel like writing about him. Only I promised myself I would only write about him when I am in a good mood, because this man’s best quality was putting smiles on people’s faces, and this is how I like to remember him, with a smile.
Uncle O used to work with my dad as his deputy in the last company my dad worked before he started his own business. I didn’t know him back then; I barely went to my dad’s office, which is ironic since I moved in the same street in zamalek a couple of years ago!
Anyways, a couple of years after my dad started his business, he asked Uncle O to join, and he did. I remember very clearly the first time I met him; my mom, my sisters, and I were stopping by my dad’s office to go have dinner together and he was just leaving, and he stopped and greeted us, and told my baby sister he loved looking at her because she looked exactly like his daughter. He said it so casually and like he had known us for ages.
We got to know him on a family level; his wife made friends with my mom, his oldest son was my sister’s age, his daughter was my baby sister’s age, and his youngest boy was the cutest thing ever. Funny thing, his daughter and my sister did look a lot like each other!! I think it was mostly the hair.
I used to stop by my dad’s office every day on my way back from school, and then college, just to say hi and to have my daily dose of delightful Uncle O. back then, my relationship with my dad was borderline hatred since it was the crazy teenage years and well, mom used him as a scary figure; so Uncle O was the one who would tell me how to approach my dad without pushing the wrong buttons and he would always assure me that my dad had nothing against me, as a matter of fact, he was proud of me, only wouldn’t show it because he wouldn’t want to spoil me.
Uncle O was the best! He’s been there through our terrible car accident; he was the first one to arrive at the scene, and seeing him, I knew we would be ok! He was there to drive me to my physics class when no one was available, and we would talk about almost everything during the car ride! He was there when my dad fought with me over the phone for joining Faculty of Arts instead of Business, and talked me into not making the fight bigger when it didn’t even matter to me which line of studies to choose. He was there to teach me how to park my car, and he was there the day I went to take the driving test since my dad had a strict no-wasta-for-driving-license policy.
He was there almost all the times I needed someone to give me good advice. And he had the quality of making people listen. And it wasn’t just me! It was everyone in the company; it was also my sisters, and even mama. She would call him up and ask him to talk some sense into me when I am acting all “crazy”! Everyone just listened to him; he could motivate people with the most encouraging smile ever; people at work would jump through hoops to not disappoint him. Truth be told, he was a better manager than my dad, and that is why my dad trusted him the most. When my dad wrote a will, he made him in charge of the business, and before that, he was one of two who had a power of attorney covering everything to my father’s name.
He left the company when he was offered a better opportunity with a multinational in a different field. He said he hated to leave, but promised he’d always be there. And he kept that promise, and he remained a family friend ever since.
I wanted him to be one of the witnesses when I got married, only my dad said it had to me a blood relative from my side (my father’s brother) and another from the X’s side (his uncle). If it were up to me to insist, it would have definitely been Uncle O from my side; he has always been more of an uncle to me than my real uncle.
Five years ago, Uncle O had a terrible car accident on his way back from El Ein El sokhna. All I really know about the accident was that his head was badly injured and that he was in a comma in the hospital. I went to the hospital the same night with my mom and my x. Of course I couldn’t see him, I sat there in the visitors area trying to remain calm; I don’t do hysteric crying in public anyways, but I broke down and cried the moment I got into my car.
When he woke up, he couldn’t remember a lot of things and some of his motor functions were affected due to the head trauma. He knew his name, he recognized his family and friends; he just didn’t remember details of events, which was ok really, but not to him I guess!
He never really recovered. I don’t know the medical description of his case; all I know is that he was never the same; although he regained most of his motor functions, he had some serious depression caused by the injury, some brain chemicals were disturbed in the process. I wish I knew more, or not.
I visited him a few months after I gave birth to my first baby. I wanted him to see my son, and I wanted to see him because I missed him so very much. He got out, said hi, didn’t even sit down; just held my son so tight and kissed him on the forehead, and gave him back to me wishing the two of us the best, and then just excused himself back to his room.
I barely held the tears as his wife told me he doesn’t even get out of his room to meet his own brothers, and that he only did it because I am so dear to him. I left not wanting to see him again because it broke my heart to see him that way. I am very bad at handling those situations, terrible actually. I am having tears in my eyes as I am remembering that day; I miss him and I wish I could just go and have one of our long hours of talking about almost everything.
Uncle O’s accident shook me pretty hard. I could never grasp that something like that would happen to a great person like him. I know el mo2men mossab, but it has always been beyond me to be ok with bad things happening to good people, to people I love in particular.
Uncle O, I miss you so much, but I always remember you with a smile and wish you the best. I am sorry I no longer visit; it’s just wrong to visit and cry the way I know I would.
Uncle O used to work with my dad as his deputy in the last company my dad worked before he started his own business. I didn’t know him back then; I barely went to my dad’s office, which is ironic since I moved in the same street in zamalek a couple of years ago!
Anyways, a couple of years after my dad started his business, he asked Uncle O to join, and he did. I remember very clearly the first time I met him; my mom, my sisters, and I were stopping by my dad’s office to go have dinner together and he was just leaving, and he stopped and greeted us, and told my baby sister he loved looking at her because she looked exactly like his daughter. He said it so casually and like he had known us for ages.
We got to know him on a family level; his wife made friends with my mom, his oldest son was my sister’s age, his daughter was my baby sister’s age, and his youngest boy was the cutest thing ever. Funny thing, his daughter and my sister did look a lot like each other!! I think it was mostly the hair.
I used to stop by my dad’s office every day on my way back from school, and then college, just to say hi and to have my daily dose of delightful Uncle O. back then, my relationship with my dad was borderline hatred since it was the crazy teenage years and well, mom used him as a scary figure; so Uncle O was the one who would tell me how to approach my dad without pushing the wrong buttons and he would always assure me that my dad had nothing against me, as a matter of fact, he was proud of me, only wouldn’t show it because he wouldn’t want to spoil me.
Uncle O was the best! He’s been there through our terrible car accident; he was the first one to arrive at the scene, and seeing him, I knew we would be ok! He was there to drive me to my physics class when no one was available, and we would talk about almost everything during the car ride! He was there when my dad fought with me over the phone for joining Faculty of Arts instead of Business, and talked me into not making the fight bigger when it didn’t even matter to me which line of studies to choose. He was there to teach me how to park my car, and he was there the day I went to take the driving test since my dad had a strict no-wasta-for-driving-license policy.
He was there almost all the times I needed someone to give me good advice. And he had the quality of making people listen. And it wasn’t just me! It was everyone in the company; it was also my sisters, and even mama. She would call him up and ask him to talk some sense into me when I am acting all “crazy”! Everyone just listened to him; he could motivate people with the most encouraging smile ever; people at work would jump through hoops to not disappoint him. Truth be told, he was a better manager than my dad, and that is why my dad trusted him the most. When my dad wrote a will, he made him in charge of the business, and before that, he was one of two who had a power of attorney covering everything to my father’s name.
He left the company when he was offered a better opportunity with a multinational in a different field. He said he hated to leave, but promised he’d always be there. And he kept that promise, and he remained a family friend ever since.
I wanted him to be one of the witnesses when I got married, only my dad said it had to me a blood relative from my side (my father’s brother) and another from the X’s side (his uncle). If it were up to me to insist, it would have definitely been Uncle O from my side; he has always been more of an uncle to me than my real uncle.
Five years ago, Uncle O had a terrible car accident on his way back from El Ein El sokhna. All I really know about the accident was that his head was badly injured and that he was in a comma in the hospital. I went to the hospital the same night with my mom and my x. Of course I couldn’t see him, I sat there in the visitors area trying to remain calm; I don’t do hysteric crying in public anyways, but I broke down and cried the moment I got into my car.
When he woke up, he couldn’t remember a lot of things and some of his motor functions were affected due to the head trauma. He knew his name, he recognized his family and friends; he just didn’t remember details of events, which was ok really, but not to him I guess!
He never really recovered. I don’t know the medical description of his case; all I know is that he was never the same; although he regained most of his motor functions, he had some serious depression caused by the injury, some brain chemicals were disturbed in the process. I wish I knew more, or not.
I visited him a few months after I gave birth to my first baby. I wanted him to see my son, and I wanted to see him because I missed him so very much. He got out, said hi, didn’t even sit down; just held my son so tight and kissed him on the forehead, and gave him back to me wishing the two of us the best, and then just excused himself back to his room.
I barely held the tears as his wife told me he doesn’t even get out of his room to meet his own brothers, and that he only did it because I am so dear to him. I left not wanting to see him again because it broke my heart to see him that way. I am very bad at handling those situations, terrible actually. I am having tears in my eyes as I am remembering that day; I miss him and I wish I could just go and have one of our long hours of talking about almost everything.
Uncle O’s accident shook me pretty hard. I could never grasp that something like that would happen to a great person like him. I know el mo2men mossab, but it has always been beyond me to be ok with bad things happening to good people, to people I love in particular.
Uncle O, I miss you so much, but I always remember you with a smile and wish you the best. I am sorry I no longer visit; it’s just wrong to visit and cry the way I know I would.
February 26, 2008
Does he not get enough!
I answered because I was worried where he’d be, and I needed to hear the background noise just to make sure I won’t get any nasty surprises on my way to the work event I have been planning all month!
Me: ALO
Him: Aiwaa ezzayek?
Me: (did I hear cheerfulness?!! Ostor ya rab) is there anything you want?
Him: I was in maadi earlier today
Me: (please God tell me he left, he said earlier, I am safe!) so!!
Him: I had a job interview, and after I finished I passed by a lot of places where we used to hang out and have fun
Me: you’re calling me to tell me that?!!! (wheeew, now I can breathe)
Him: yes
Me: ok, let me tell you this: next time you feel nostalgic, don’t come and walk the streets of maadi
Him: ommal??
Me: you can try walking the streets of mohandeseen around your old work, or you know, the streets of haram… (this is where he used to hang out with her)
Him: ya sheikha da rabena beysame7…
Me: rabena kebeer, and btw I think w’Allaho a3lam, rabena beysame7 elly ebeyndam we ye7awel yessala7 ghalato… so clear your act if it’s forgiveness you want, but don’ give me the whole second chances crap
Him: is that all you have to say to me?
Me: yeah, well, whatever I say really, you only hear what you wanna hear… like for example, I like answering you because I get to tell you all the shit I have in mind and I can hang up and continue being the pleasant person you no longer get to see, this is my fun… I don’t know why you call though!!
Him: because I am your husband, don’t you think you have any moral obligation towards me?
Me: no! not really! Should I??? for all I care you’re someone I would rather have nothing to do with, and it’s only a matter of time… ana ha2fel ba2a 3ashan mesh fadyalak… ya rab tekoon akhadt gor3et el ghatata beta3tak for the day *hung up*
My event was a blast; it went smooth and thank God he did not pull any stunts.
Me: ALO
Him: Aiwaa ezzayek?
Me: (did I hear cheerfulness?!! Ostor ya rab) is there anything you want?
Him: I was in maadi earlier today
Me: (please God tell me he left, he said earlier, I am safe!) so!!
Him: I had a job interview, and after I finished I passed by a lot of places where we used to hang out and have fun
Me: you’re calling me to tell me that?!!! (wheeew, now I can breathe)
Him: yes
Me: ok, let me tell you this: next time you feel nostalgic, don’t come and walk the streets of maadi
Him: ommal??
Me: you can try walking the streets of mohandeseen around your old work, or you know, the streets of haram… (this is where he used to hang out with her)
Him: ya sheikha da rabena beysame7…
Me: rabena kebeer, and btw I think w’Allaho a3lam, rabena beysame7 elly ebeyndam we ye7awel yessala7 ghalato… so clear your act if it’s forgiveness you want, but don’ give me the whole second chances crap
Him: is that all you have to say to me?
Me: yeah, well, whatever I say really, you only hear what you wanna hear… like for example, I like answering you because I get to tell you all the shit I have in mind and I can hang up and continue being the pleasant person you no longer get to see, this is my fun… I don’t know why you call though!!
Him: because I am your husband, don’t you think you have any moral obligation towards me?
Me: no! not really! Should I??? for all I care you’re someone I would rather have nothing to do with, and it’s only a matter of time… ana ha2fel ba2a 3ashan mesh fadyalak… ya rab tekoon akhadt gor3et el ghatata beta3tak for the day *hung up*
My event was a blast; it went smooth and thank God he did not pull any stunts.
February 24, 2008
Today he turns 59…
Him: *calling me on my mobile as I am driving home*
Me: *with utter excitement* Babayaaaaaaa, ezzayak
Him: ezzayek, feen bommmba
Me: he’s with Maat, she’s picking him up today, cause…
Him: *hangs up on me, and calls Maat to speak to bommbaa*
This has to happen at least once a week!! He hangs up on me every single time :)
In my last blog I wrote this long letter to my dad saying how much I love him; I won’t do it again; words are just never enough.
My dad is the one who passed to me my temper and my stubbornness (him and my late nana), my sense of humor, my love for driving long distances, my great sense of direction, and the stamina to be responsible even when I just would rather not.
Growing up around him I learned how one can have morals and ethics and actually live by them. As judgmental as my dad can be, he tried to teach me tolerance! He would always stop me when I start ranting and tell me "wouldn’t you be doing the exact same thing?", and as I start rationalizing, he’d smile and say: "well expect the other person to have the same reasons"!! Of course that never really happened when he’s the one with the fuming temper :)
The one thing people would never think my dad has, and it took me forever to actually learn, is patience. Yeah, despite his well known temper, he’s a very patient person. I mean to actually be patient and have that much faith that those who have done you wrong will eventually pay… WOW… it was always beyond me to understand, even now, I just look at him when he’s silently thinking and can't help but think to myself “I am so glad he is still in good health relatively, anyone in his shoes would have been suffering from some serious heart condition, not just the age related diabetes and blood pressure”
When I was neck high in my own shit, and my belief system was all shaken up, all it took me was to observe how he would pray as regularly as ever, he would set his alarm to el-fagr and get dressed to pray in the mosque. The more shit life gave him (and I already know of too much shit), the more patiently he waited and tried to not let it change who he is. So if he snaps at mama or at the rest of us from time to time, well, who can blame him? :)
I love my dad, I love the times he makes fun of things quietly and I love it when he criticizes me and my sisters, and I love it when I see his heart just melting as he plays with beam and the way mocha looks up to him with that much love. I wish him a hundred more years to live… well, a healthy hundred more years to live.
Me: *with utter excitement* Babayaaaaaaa, ezzayak
Him: ezzayek, feen bommmba
Me: he’s with Maat, she’s picking him up today, cause…
Him: *hangs up on me, and calls Maat to speak to bommbaa*
This has to happen at least once a week!! He hangs up on me every single time :)
In my last blog I wrote this long letter to my dad saying how much I love him; I won’t do it again; words are just never enough.
My dad is the one who passed to me my temper and my stubbornness (him and my late nana), my sense of humor, my love for driving long distances, my great sense of direction, and the stamina to be responsible even when I just would rather not.
Growing up around him I learned how one can have morals and ethics and actually live by them. As judgmental as my dad can be, he tried to teach me tolerance! He would always stop me when I start ranting and tell me "wouldn’t you be doing the exact same thing?", and as I start rationalizing, he’d smile and say: "well expect the other person to have the same reasons"!! Of course that never really happened when he’s the one with the fuming temper :)
The one thing people would never think my dad has, and it took me forever to actually learn, is patience. Yeah, despite his well known temper, he’s a very patient person. I mean to actually be patient and have that much faith that those who have done you wrong will eventually pay… WOW… it was always beyond me to understand, even now, I just look at him when he’s silently thinking and can't help but think to myself “I am so glad he is still in good health relatively, anyone in his shoes would have been suffering from some serious heart condition, not just the age related diabetes and blood pressure”
When I was neck high in my own shit, and my belief system was all shaken up, all it took me was to observe how he would pray as regularly as ever, he would set his alarm to el-fagr and get dressed to pray in the mosque. The more shit life gave him (and I already know of too much shit), the more patiently he waited and tried to not let it change who he is. So if he snaps at mama or at the rest of us from time to time, well, who can blame him? :)
I love my dad, I love the times he makes fun of things quietly and I love it when he criticizes me and my sisters, and I love it when I see his heart just melting as he plays with beam and the way mocha looks up to him with that much love. I wish him a hundred more years to live… well, a healthy hundred more years to live.
February 20, 2008
Go to hell you spineless scumbag
Me: do the right thing, do the honorable thing, do what men do if you still remember how to act like a man; let me go and stop trying to humiliate me, because you know what, sooner or later I will be free, and you will never be able to humiliate me, not in this life time, not in another
Him: ok, then sign this last document and I will let you go
Me: *starting to yell* I am not signing a document waiving my custody rights in case I remarry
Him: then you plan to remarry
Me: no, it’s as simple as that, I will not waive any of my rights; you can’t make me, not anymore
Him: and I won’t let you remarry and have my kids raised by someone else
Me: which kids are we talking about? The ones you haven’t laid eyes on for the past 5 months??? Enta mesada2 nafsak, you wouldn’t even know how to take care of them
Him: they will not be raised by anyone else
Me: that does not give you the right to make me sign such a document, no law or religion says I should, I won’t sign it
Him: then I won’t divorce you
Me: then I will make you
Him: I will be leaving the country, ha3eesh 7ayaty and you will never get a hold of me, eb2y wareeny ba2a hate3rafy tetala2y ezzay, and..
Me: *DEEP BREATH* ok, when you figure out a better way to talk, don’t call me, write down what you are willing to do and give it to your lawyer to discuss it with mine, I am done talking with you… salam, on a second thought, you don’t deserve peace *HUNG UP*
Him: ok, then sign this last document and I will let you go
Me: *starting to yell* I am not signing a document waiving my custody rights in case I remarry
Him: then you plan to remarry
Me: no, it’s as simple as that, I will not waive any of my rights; you can’t make me, not anymore
Him: and I won’t let you remarry and have my kids raised by someone else
Me: which kids are we talking about? The ones you haven’t laid eyes on for the past 5 months??? Enta mesada2 nafsak, you wouldn’t even know how to take care of them
Him: they will not be raised by anyone else
Me: that does not give you the right to make me sign such a document, no law or religion says I should, I won’t sign it
Him: then I won’t divorce you
Me: then I will make you
Him: I will be leaving the country, ha3eesh 7ayaty and you will never get a hold of me, eb2y wareeny ba2a hate3rafy tetala2y ezzay, and..
Me: *DEEP BREATH* ok, when you figure out a better way to talk, don’t call me, write down what you are willing to do and give it to your lawyer to discuss it with mine, I am done talking with you… salam, on a second thought, you don’t deserve peace *HUNG UP*
February 19, 2008
!!!
This was taken from two long phone calls that took place yesterday. I have no idea why the calls dragged, but it could be attributed to my bad bad flu and my lack of concentration.
Him: enty beted3y 3alaya??
Me: no!
Him: you must, my life sucks these days; everything and everyone is turning against me
Me: well, I once said “rabena yegazeeh 3ala ad 3amalo we neyetto”, so I am guessing 3amalak eswed!
Him: *bitter laugh* I guess so
Me: So what do u want? What are you calling me for? You know I am the last person who would feel for you
Him: I thought I could always find a friend in you; after all, you have always been my best friend
Me: I am not your friend, at least not anymore… and for what it’s worth, you’ve never been my friend, if you think you were, then let me tell you, you sucked at it! So now that we’ve established I am not your friend, 3ayez eh?
Him: 3ayez 2a2olek en 7ayaty bayza, yemken da yeraya7ek… rabena ba3atlek nas keteer takhodlek 7a2ek even more than you could have ever done it yourself
Me: *sarcastic laugh* there might be a time I would have been happy to hear that, but I realized that if it makes me happy, then I won’t be much different from you, and I would like to think I am…
Him: then why do I hear anger in your voice?
Me: this is not anger, don’t you remember what anger was like?
Him: so is it hate?
Me: I promised I wouldn’t hate you, you don’t deserve hate
Him: what is it?
Me: dismay I guess… you see, you’re not the person I would like to talk to, especially when I am down with cold and need every moment of rest.
Him: can I ask you something?
Me: whatever…
Him: do you not love me anymore?
Me: *laughing* (the question sounded funny really)… no, I am not
Him: ok, apparently you have moved on
Me: yeah, anything else??
Him: *sobbing voice!!* no, bye and good luck
Me: *hanging up*
I had this conversation in my head so many times, I didn’t actually believe it was happening!! Strange though how it didn’t feel as glorious as I once thought it would; wasn’t bad at all either :)
And oh oh oh, more good news, I’m gonna be an auntie (YEEEEEYYY)… my friend H is pregnant… I am so excited; this time, it’s not me who will give birth, hehe!
Him: enty beted3y 3alaya??
Me: no!
Him: you must, my life sucks these days; everything and everyone is turning against me
Me: well, I once said “rabena yegazeeh 3ala ad 3amalo we neyetto”, so I am guessing 3amalak eswed!
Him: *bitter laugh* I guess so
Me: So what do u want? What are you calling me for? You know I am the last person who would feel for you
Him: I thought I could always find a friend in you; after all, you have always been my best friend
Me: I am not your friend, at least not anymore… and for what it’s worth, you’ve never been my friend, if you think you were, then let me tell you, you sucked at it! So now that we’ve established I am not your friend, 3ayez eh?
Him: 3ayez 2a2olek en 7ayaty bayza, yemken da yeraya7ek… rabena ba3atlek nas keteer takhodlek 7a2ek even more than you could have ever done it yourself
Me: *sarcastic laugh* there might be a time I would have been happy to hear that, but I realized that if it makes me happy, then I won’t be much different from you, and I would like to think I am…
Him: then why do I hear anger in your voice?
Me: this is not anger, don’t you remember what anger was like?
Him: so is it hate?
Me: I promised I wouldn’t hate you, you don’t deserve hate
Him: what is it?
Me: dismay I guess… you see, you’re not the person I would like to talk to, especially when I am down with cold and need every moment of rest.
Him: can I ask you something?
Me: whatever…
Him: do you not love me anymore?
Me: *laughing* (the question sounded funny really)… no, I am not
Him: ok, apparently you have moved on
Me: yeah, anything else??
Him: *sobbing voice!!* no, bye and good luck
Me: *hanging up*
I had this conversation in my head so many times, I didn’t actually believe it was happening!! Strange though how it didn’t feel as glorious as I once thought it would; wasn’t bad at all either :)
And oh oh oh, more good news, I’m gonna be an auntie (YEEEEEYYY)… my friend H is pregnant… I am so excited; this time, it’s not me who will give birth, hehe!
February 14, 2008
Seriously!!!
I am responsible for organizing an event where the company I work for hosts a big meeting inviting other companies within the same field. So as I prepared the invitations and had them sent out last week, I left my name as the contact person for any updates regarding the attendees and the reports I am supposed to receive in advance to be available in that meeting.
BIG MISTAKE!
I mean I just wrote my first name and my last name! I did not write my dad’s name because I know people in the field would recognize it. I thought I was relatively safe from being recognized as his daughter (which is not embarrassing at all except for the part where people call and start saying weeeeiiird things)
So here is goes…
Mr. X: Hey inso (yes, he nicknamed me), ezzayek ya habibty 3amla eh
Me: yes, ezzay 7adretak (thinking it was a friend of baba’s whom baba passed my work no. to for whatever reason)
Mr. X: we ezzay ‘ABOOKY’, eh 7ekayto el ragel da, regleeh akhadet 3ala Alexandria keda leh?
Me: 3ady ba2a, merato el tanya kanet 3ayana showaya (mesh 2aly abooky, he must know the joke about baba having a second wife in Alex)
Mr. X: hahahaha dana kalemto yoom el khamees (the day I sent the invitations) 2a2olo en benty fel maadi, but he told me he was in Alex (ok, so baba is sheikh 7aret el maadi now!!)
Me: kont tekalemny, ana assed makano… ana 3arfa el soot bs ma3lesh mesh merakezza, meen ma3aya (la 3arfa el soot wala beta3, bas ba3mel manazer)
Mr. X: ana lessa ba3etlek email
Me: (refreshing my mailbox and reading his name in a stupid loud voice) Mr. XYZ (the name did not sound familiar!!)
Mr. X.: aiwa, ana ebn el kalb da, hahahaha
Me: *mumbling* (ha2olo eh ya3ne, ah masalan?)
Mr. X: hab3atlek ba2a el hard copies later, forsa sa3eeda ya insomniac eny kallemtek, salemeely 3ala baba
Needless to say, my faith in baba’s acquaintances has shaken!!! DRAMATICALLY
But then there was that other guy calling to tell me that they did not receive an invitation, so I asked him about his company name and confirmed that an invitation has supposedly been sent, and with my most polite tone I told him “ana hab3atha le 7adretak 7alan via fax, we in sha2 Allah tesharafna yoom el meeting”, he thanked me and referred to me as Miss insomniac… ok, I won’t interrupt him to tell him “madam men fadlak”… lol
He called me yesterday asking if I received the soft copy of the report, I confirmed and asked if his company was to send the hard copy, he said he’d send it today and said he’s looking forward to seeing me again referring to me with Miss! Today, shortly after I received the report he called asking if I received the hard copy, I confirmed, so he went on and on about how it’s a pleasure talking to me referring to me as Miss again!!! Then he paused and asked me:
Him: your family name sounds familiar, do u have relatives in maadi??
Me: I’m sorry can I get your name again? (well, if he knows baba I might as well write his name down and tell baba he said hi, mana fadya)
Him: folan el folany
Me: ahlan be 7adretak, sorry I am not good with names (in fact I am)
Him: so u have relatives in maadi?
Me: yes, who do u know? (I like a3mel 3abeeta)
Him: Mr. ABC (baba) he was the chairman of the NGO for blah blah blah
Me: yes, he’s my dad
Him: really, then Mr. DBC is your uncle??
Me: yes, in fact he’s my dad’s second cousin (ok, this can go forever, since my dad had another second cousin who used to work in the same field, only he died, Allah yer7amo)
Him: you know I live in maadi too, and I used to come to your dad’s office around 10 years ago
Me: Really. (that was the most uniterested ‘really’ ever said)
Him: yeah, I think you were a little girl back then, akeed keberty we ba2eety 3arooosa
Me: (LOL) merci
Him: khalas salemeely 3ala baba and I will see you on the day of the event ya MISS insomniac
El ragel gayebly 3arees shaklo… eh el araf da!!!! Maat, I know how it felt with the last guy who proposed through your boss (did I just say too much?)
I think I am about to change my name. any suggestions people??
P.S. my real name is not insomniac, and all the aliaces are not the people’s real names either. OK!
BIG MISTAKE!
I mean I just wrote my first name and my last name! I did not write my dad’s name because I know people in the field would recognize it. I thought I was relatively safe from being recognized as his daughter (which is not embarrassing at all except for the part where people call and start saying weeeeiiird things)
So here is goes…
Mr. X: Hey inso (yes, he nicknamed me), ezzayek ya habibty 3amla eh
Me: yes, ezzay 7adretak (thinking it was a friend of baba’s whom baba passed my work no. to for whatever reason)
Mr. X: we ezzay ‘ABOOKY’, eh 7ekayto el ragel da, regleeh akhadet 3ala Alexandria keda leh?
Me: 3ady ba2a, merato el tanya kanet 3ayana showaya (mesh 2aly abooky, he must know the joke about baba having a second wife in Alex)
Mr. X: hahahaha dana kalemto yoom el khamees (the day I sent the invitations) 2a2olo en benty fel maadi, but he told me he was in Alex (ok, so baba is sheikh 7aret el maadi now!!)
Me: kont tekalemny, ana assed makano… ana 3arfa el soot bs ma3lesh mesh merakezza, meen ma3aya (la 3arfa el soot wala beta3, bas ba3mel manazer)
Mr. X: ana lessa ba3etlek email
Me: (refreshing my mailbox and reading his name in a stupid loud voice) Mr. XYZ (the name did not sound familiar!!)
Mr. X.: aiwa, ana ebn el kalb da, hahahaha
Me: *mumbling* (ha2olo eh ya3ne, ah masalan?)
Mr. X: hab3atlek ba2a el hard copies later, forsa sa3eeda ya insomniac eny kallemtek, salemeely 3ala baba
Needless to say, my faith in baba’s acquaintances has shaken!!! DRAMATICALLY
But then there was that other guy calling to tell me that they did not receive an invitation, so I asked him about his company name and confirmed that an invitation has supposedly been sent, and with my most polite tone I told him “ana hab3atha le 7adretak 7alan via fax, we in sha2 Allah tesharafna yoom el meeting”, he thanked me and referred to me as Miss insomniac… ok, I won’t interrupt him to tell him “madam men fadlak”… lol
He called me yesterday asking if I received the soft copy of the report, I confirmed and asked if his company was to send the hard copy, he said he’d send it today and said he’s looking forward to seeing me again referring to me with Miss! Today, shortly after I received the report he called asking if I received the hard copy, I confirmed, so he went on and on about how it’s a pleasure talking to me referring to me as Miss again!!! Then he paused and asked me:
Him: your family name sounds familiar, do u have relatives in maadi??
Me: I’m sorry can I get your name again? (well, if he knows baba I might as well write his name down and tell baba he said hi, mana fadya)
Him: folan el folany
Me: ahlan be 7adretak, sorry I am not good with names (in fact I am)
Him: so u have relatives in maadi?
Me: yes, who do u know? (I like a3mel 3abeeta)
Him: Mr. ABC (baba) he was the chairman of the NGO for blah blah blah
Me: yes, he’s my dad
Him: really, then Mr. DBC is your uncle??
Me: yes, in fact he’s my dad’s second cousin (ok, this can go forever, since my dad had another second cousin who used to work in the same field, only he died, Allah yer7amo)
Him: you know I live in maadi too, and I used to come to your dad’s office around 10 years ago
Me: Really. (that was the most uniterested ‘really’ ever said)
Him: yeah, I think you were a little girl back then, akeed keberty we ba2eety 3arooosa
Me: (LOL) merci
Him: khalas salemeely 3ala baba and I will see you on the day of the event ya MISS insomniac
El ragel gayebly 3arees shaklo… eh el araf da!!!! Maat, I know how it felt with the last guy who proposed through your boss (did I just say too much?)
I think I am about to change my name. any suggestions people??
P.S. my real name is not insomniac, and all the aliaces are not the people’s real names either. OK!
February 10, 2008
Random!
On Roller Coasters…
Why do people get on them?? I mean, I for one have acrophobia, and my heart and chest simply hurt when the ride starts, right before the action begins!! I am not the type that throws up easily, but it happens from time to time that I just do after roller coaster rides!!
I am not the only one who’s like that! How come roller coasters are that popular?!!!
And why do I know I would get on the next ride?!! However, only outside Egypt because I do not trust the Egyptian standards of safety whatsoever.
P.S. Maat, I do reget not getting on that balloon, not because you said it was awesome, but because I know I would have loved it! Damn you Egypt for screwing my fun with your lack of safety.
Why do people get on them?? I mean, I for one have acrophobia, and my heart and chest simply hurt when the ride starts, right before the action begins!! I am not the type that throws up easily, but it happens from time to time that I just do after roller coaster rides!!
I am not the only one who’s like that! How come roller coasters are that popular?!!!
And why do I know I would get on the next ride?!! However, only outside Egypt because I do not trust the Egyptian standards of safety whatsoever.
P.S. Maat, I do reget not getting on that balloon, not because you said it was awesome, but because I know I would have loved it! Damn you Egypt for screwing my fun with your lack of safety.
February 8, 2008
A brief walk down memory lane
My college… where I first felt independent, where somehow I realized on my own that people’s opinions didn’t matter, where I made strong friendships with H and K, where I liked spending time with my colleagues but didn’t make friends with most of them!
Where all the people I kept at a distance used to call me “tenka” and “aleeta”, while those I let in knew better! But both agreed that I was the toughest in my group and that I took shit from no one; friends or foes.
Where I fought with H (over the silliest thing ever) and let stupid N and malicious N get in the way. Where I totally ignored her as stupid N took her side and malicious N took mine.
N and her Libra influence on me!! Very few people influence me that way, and I am not so proud I was influenced by her, but I learned a lot; I learned that when you keep crossing that thin line between your morals and ethics and the things you simply rationalize, you no longer see the line.
I am glad H and I talked again, and I am very grateful our friendship became stronger and I am very ashamed she forgave me for having a ‘gazma adeema’ of a brain. Thanks H, you’re the best college gave me really!
My college memories were never something I would hide from! Except because of him! Thanks to him, I’ve been avoiding passing there because it is also where he had his MBA classes and first started dating behind my back. Since I found out, I couldn’t help but tear up every time I pass there, so I simply avoided the whole place and went around it every time there was an errand to run.
Yesterday I passed there… I had to park my car exactly where I used to back in college days! I had to get out and walk in the same streets I once walked as a young girl who thought the world was hers. I didn’t feel like the world wasn’t mine anymore, but for some reason I kept looking down and checking where my feet were!
I had a meeting in the same place I had my katb ketab party! I walked into the same ballroom to see the settings. I didn’t know what my face conveyed really; I simply can’t remember if I smiled or just looked blankly! But as I walked back to my car and passed by where I once picked him up the day I told him the sex of my first baby, I pulled the breaks and allowed that thought to surface: when he had tears in his eyes and kissed my hand, was it because he was happy, or was it because he felt guilty about two timing me?
Then I drove my way shaking off the thought… it doesn’t matter now, does it? It shouldn’t matter; it wouldn’t change a thing really. And so, I played Souad Massi’s Khsara 3aleik and let the streets leading to home soothe me.
I think I just got my college memories back and I can visit them any time I like now without his memory blocking my thinking.
Where all the people I kept at a distance used to call me “tenka” and “aleeta”, while those I let in knew better! But both agreed that I was the toughest in my group and that I took shit from no one; friends or foes.
Where I fought with H (over the silliest thing ever) and let stupid N and malicious N get in the way. Where I totally ignored her as stupid N took her side and malicious N took mine.
N and her Libra influence on me!! Very few people influence me that way, and I am not so proud I was influenced by her, but I learned a lot; I learned that when you keep crossing that thin line between your morals and ethics and the things you simply rationalize, you no longer see the line.
I am glad H and I talked again, and I am very grateful our friendship became stronger and I am very ashamed she forgave me for having a ‘gazma adeema’ of a brain. Thanks H, you’re the best college gave me really!
My college memories were never something I would hide from! Except because of him! Thanks to him, I’ve been avoiding passing there because it is also where he had his MBA classes and first started dating behind my back. Since I found out, I couldn’t help but tear up every time I pass there, so I simply avoided the whole place and went around it every time there was an errand to run.
Yesterday I passed there… I had to park my car exactly where I used to back in college days! I had to get out and walk in the same streets I once walked as a young girl who thought the world was hers. I didn’t feel like the world wasn’t mine anymore, but for some reason I kept looking down and checking where my feet were!
I had a meeting in the same place I had my katb ketab party! I walked into the same ballroom to see the settings. I didn’t know what my face conveyed really; I simply can’t remember if I smiled or just looked blankly! But as I walked back to my car and passed by where I once picked him up the day I told him the sex of my first baby, I pulled the breaks and allowed that thought to surface: when he had tears in his eyes and kissed my hand, was it because he was happy, or was it because he felt guilty about two timing me?
Then I drove my way shaking off the thought… it doesn’t matter now, does it? It shouldn’t matter; it wouldn’t change a thing really. And so, I played Souad Massi’s Khsara 3aleik and let the streets leading to home soothe me.
I think I just got my college memories back and I can visit them any time I like now without his memory blocking my thinking.
February 7, 2008
Oummi...*
I discovered Marcel Khalife last year (thanks to Maat). I have to say, I am taken by him; his music, his voice, and oh my God the lyrics; courtesy of Mahmoud Darwish of course.
I would like to share this song “Oummi” with lyrics right below… I did not post the video from utube because when I first listened to the song I heard it while driving, so I advise to listen to the song while minimized and feel free to read the lyrics for easy reference.
I would like to share this song “Oummi” with lyrics right below… I did not post the video from utube because when I first listened to the song I heard it while driving, so I advise to listen to the song while minimized and feel free to read the lyrics for easy reference.
أمي ...
أحنُّ إلى خبز أُمي
وقهوة أمي
ولمسة أُمي ..
وتكبُر في الطفولةُ
يوماً على صدر يومِ
وأعشَقُ عمرِي لأني
إذا مُتُّ,
أخجل من دمع أُمي !
خذينيِ إذا عدتُ يوماً
وشاحاً لهُدْبِكْ
وغطّي عظامي بعشب
تعمّد من طهر كعبك
وشُدي وثاقي ..
بخصلة شَعر..
بخيطٍ يلوِّح في ذيل ثوبك ..
عساني أصير ُإلهاً
إلهاً أصير..
إذا ما لمستُ قرارة قلبك !
ضعيني , إذا ما رجعتُ
وقوداً بتنور ناركْ ..
وحبل غسيل على سطح دارك
لأني فقدتُ الوقوفَ
بدون صلاة نهارك
هَرِمْتُ فردّي نجوم الطفولة
حتى أُشارك صغار العصافير
درب الرجوع .. لعُش انتظارِك!!
(من ديوان "عاشق من فلسطين" 1966)
Now isn’t this beautiful!!! I made my favorite part in bold and bigger font!
* This is to you Nana, I miss you… may you rest in peace.
* This is to you Nana, I miss you… may you rest in peace.
February 6, 2008
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
**me screaming**
Ok… breathe in… and breathe out… not that much better
I really don’t wanna whine anymore, I don’t!! I don’t like it when I whine!
So he called me the day I arrived at Luxor. I answered only to honor my word when I said I would answer the phone to discuss when he can meet his sons. I had totally forgotten that it was just one day before the court hearing and he was probably sucking up for some reason!
So this is what the conversation revolved around minus all the how are you’s and how are the kid’s… he wanted to know if my kids could visit his grandma because she’s too sick to come visit them at my parents’, my reply was “alf salama 3aleeha, but my kids will not go to a place of which I was practically thrown out, remember how you filed a police report saying i hit her and you claimed that was what she said!”. He said it was all made up by him like I guessed before and kept asking me to have mercy, I told him it had nothing to do with mercy or payback like he kept suggesting; it had more to do with principal and had to do with him and his family never anticipating a day like that would come when they would need me to bend the rules but I simply wouldn’t be able to because I no longer trusted them.
Instead of arguing in a civil manner, he accused me of being subjective and said “leh ya insomniac sootek beye2leb ma3aya keda, leeh ba7es en beyerkabek meet 3afreet lama betetkalemy ma3aya”… it pissed the crap out of me and ruined the whole day for me because it was true. I still flinch when I say or hear his name, I still hurt when I hear his voice or talk to him. I hate that! I hate how he gets on my nerves, how no matter how much I smile and joke about it and actually feel no pain, somehow I still hurt when I have to deal with him. Damn you X.
The second thing was to ask me if I really want a divorce (I wanna scream again!) or it’s just me teaching him a lesson, or am I playing legal game!!! What the hell!! Legal games!!!!! I filed a divorce case, how is that a legal game?? However, my better instincts registered that he wants me to say I want out for alimony purposes (now who’s playing games you &^%&*%^*^), so to piss him off, I told him I was clear on my requests, he asked me to repeat them nonetheless, I told him I had nothing to say, and when he started to push the wrong buttons again, I hung up and I made up my mind not to answer him for a longer while now.
Today, his aunt called while I am in the midst of writing a boring report and having my dad on the other line making plans for the weekend! He told me to hang up and call him back after answering her. I did not want to answer her because she’s the one I lived with, she’s the one who called him when I last went to pick my stuff and asked his cousins to not let me. But well, sometimes I am forced to a3mel be asly.
She kept talking as if I still lived there!! how could she do that?? How can they all keep doing that?!!! You can’t humiliate someone and talk as if nothing happened to avoid an apology! You can’t just expect me to be that mature about being insulted by him!! Damn it.
She went on and on about how I was, how the kids were, and if beem talks more, and of course she asked about their health and all because of the season. Then she asked if they could visit or at least meet outside (how typical). I told her she’s most welcomed to visit them (although I am sure I didn’t sound that welcoming). She kept telling a story about how she can’t drive at night, I told her we can meet at my parents’ on Friday or Saturday, and so we hung up after we agreed that I will call her back to tell her if this Friday is ok.
My back is killing me… it’s the kind of pain I feel when I am upset. I HATE them… well I don’t like the word 'hate'; it’s too intense and they don’t deserve intense… people who stab you in the back and hurt you beyond measure then smile at your face and expect you to do them favors are just scum that normally I shouldn’t pay any attention to… but they are my kids’ family… Damn, I will pay for falling for the wrong man for the rest of my life just because I had the cutest two kids with him.
Ok… breathe in… and breathe out… not that much better
I really don’t wanna whine anymore, I don’t!! I don’t like it when I whine!
So he called me the day I arrived at Luxor. I answered only to honor my word when I said I would answer the phone to discuss when he can meet his sons. I had totally forgotten that it was just one day before the court hearing and he was probably sucking up for some reason!
So this is what the conversation revolved around minus all the how are you’s and how are the kid’s… he wanted to know if my kids could visit his grandma because she’s too sick to come visit them at my parents’, my reply was “alf salama 3aleeha, but my kids will not go to a place of which I was practically thrown out, remember how you filed a police report saying i hit her and you claimed that was what she said!”. He said it was all made up by him like I guessed before and kept asking me to have mercy, I told him it had nothing to do with mercy or payback like he kept suggesting; it had more to do with principal and had to do with him and his family never anticipating a day like that would come when they would need me to bend the rules but I simply wouldn’t be able to because I no longer trusted them.
Instead of arguing in a civil manner, he accused me of being subjective and said “leh ya insomniac sootek beye2leb ma3aya keda, leeh ba7es en beyerkabek meet 3afreet lama betetkalemy ma3aya”… it pissed the crap out of me and ruined the whole day for me because it was true. I still flinch when I say or hear his name, I still hurt when I hear his voice or talk to him. I hate that! I hate how he gets on my nerves, how no matter how much I smile and joke about it and actually feel no pain, somehow I still hurt when I have to deal with him. Damn you X.
The second thing was to ask me if I really want a divorce (I wanna scream again!) or it’s just me teaching him a lesson, or am I playing legal game!!! What the hell!! Legal games!!!!! I filed a divorce case, how is that a legal game?? However, my better instincts registered that he wants me to say I want out for alimony purposes (now who’s playing games you &^%&*%^*^), so to piss him off, I told him I was clear on my requests, he asked me to repeat them nonetheless, I told him I had nothing to say, and when he started to push the wrong buttons again, I hung up and I made up my mind not to answer him for a longer while now.
Today, his aunt called while I am in the midst of writing a boring report and having my dad on the other line making plans for the weekend! He told me to hang up and call him back after answering her. I did not want to answer her because she’s the one I lived with, she’s the one who called him when I last went to pick my stuff and asked his cousins to not let me. But well, sometimes I am forced to a3mel be asly.
She kept talking as if I still lived there!! how could she do that?? How can they all keep doing that?!!! You can’t humiliate someone and talk as if nothing happened to avoid an apology! You can’t just expect me to be that mature about being insulted by him!! Damn it.
She went on and on about how I was, how the kids were, and if beem talks more, and of course she asked about their health and all because of the season. Then she asked if they could visit or at least meet outside (how typical). I told her she’s most welcomed to visit them (although I am sure I didn’t sound that welcoming). She kept telling a story about how she can’t drive at night, I told her we can meet at my parents’ on Friday or Saturday, and so we hung up after we agreed that I will call her back to tell her if this Friday is ok.
My back is killing me… it’s the kind of pain I feel when I am upset. I HATE them… well I don’t like the word 'hate'; it’s too intense and they don’t deserve intense… people who stab you in the back and hurt you beyond measure then smile at your face and expect you to do them favors are just scum that normally I shouldn’t pay any attention to… but they are my kids’ family… Damn, I will pay for falling for the wrong man for the rest of my life just because I had the cutest two kids with him.
February 3, 2008
Second/Multi Marriages in the Egyptian Society*
*(OMG, that sounds very much like one of my old Sociology projects)
I went on a six-day trip to come back and find that very controversial topic about second marriages vs. cheating discussed by fadfadation. Reading the post, I had too many thoughts that just wouldn’t fit into the comment space, so here it goes…
All through my life, I’ve heard my dad’s jokes with friends about the whole having-a-second-wife thing!! He’d always say how it is 7alal and that men are entitled to do it and no woman should “te7arram” what was deemed 7alal! Nonetheless, when the females in the discussion (either friends or friends’ wives) start attacking his thinking, he’d say with his well known sarcastic tone “howa elly yetgawez marra ye3melha tany… Bas bardo da 7aga rabena 7alelha le sabab we 7alelha be shoroot” (he’s basically mocking marriage and saying that he who marries once should be wise enough to never do it again! Yet, if religion allowed second marriages, it must be for a reason; moreover, it’s governed by certain rules)
I remember a childhood friend of my age, who got engaged around the same time I did insisted on debating with my dad saying “… but what about love”… my dad being the biggest cynic I know (who somehow still believes in morals in away) told her something like “fe thawabet, al 7alalo bayen wal 7aramo bayen.. manlakhbatsh nafsena be mostala7at nesbeya zay el 7obb” (rules are rules, religion is crystal clear about right and wrong… there is no need to confuse ourselves with relative terms such as love). It did not convince my friend, she argued about the certain rules and what they should be. She was not able to imagine what could possibly be a good reason for a man to remarry and put the first wife whom he loves/loved through such misery. At that point, I told her “if he no longer loved her, then she should not be with him, and if he did, yet he still wanted to be with another one, it’s either she accepts it for it’s better than adultery, or she can walk away with her pride well preserved”… the look on my friend’s face was indescribable!! It was like I betrayed women every where by believing that love fades!! She did not believe that I could speak that way despite being in love and planning to marry that man I loved.
I think it goes without saying that the whole second marriage never shocked me really!! I have to admit though, I always found it hard to believe that men are indeed capable of loving two wives, but like everything I find hard to believe, I did not spend much time dwelling on it. After all, I had the “perfect guy” who was going to love me forever and ever. **insert a cynical looking smiley right here to judge me**
Now, six years later, I try my best to think of second marriages that actually worked without having any negative impact about those involved… I can’t seem to find any! You see, in every case, the man would say he had “reasons”, but who defines reasons? Him? Either of the wives? Society? Religion? I am not that strong religion wise as my readings are pretty limited, so I am sorry if I don’t know what good religious reasons are! Here are a few cases from real life, of which I would like to get opinions from you…
Case No. 1:
T… T is a friend of my dad… a supposedly extra religious figure (whom I think gives religion a bad name sadly) who had been imprisoned for a failed attempt to murder late President Sadat. He married his wife while he was in prison (as in katab ketabo) and I have to say that I never understood why on earth she married someone who was sentenced that long, let alone someone who believed that murder was a good idea!!
Of course by the time he came out, she was too old to give birth (late 30s or 40s, I am that bad guessing people’s age!!). However, they visited a number of doctors until they were convinced that she cannot bear children. Of course, since adoption and surrogate parents are not an option in Islam, his remarrying was the only left option.
That man went bride shopping, looking for divorcettes/widows who already had kids to ensure he’d have kids of his own, given that he had done the necessary lab work for himself and proved fertile. He forgot that the first wife spent a good number of years waiting for him (I don’t understand why, I just never will!!) He did not stop to consider her feelings knowing she can never have kids of her own, and only worried about having his own kids; I am sorry, I think that was cruel of him… If he was to get married, he should have done it more decently; talked to her, gave her some time to feel supported and appreciated before tossing her aside the way he did.
She did not ask for a divorce because she had no one else to support her, you see, she paid for the apartment where they lived, but it’s in his name (I am seriously doubting her IQ level as I am writing this), and she had nowhere else to live except with her brother; therefore, she accepted being the first wife/nanny for his kids while he married that other woman and provided her with another apartment (also in his name, which means he could afford buying another apartment!!).
Again, I try not judge, but this man hurt his first wife and abused the right God gave him. I don’t think women should stay in a marriage because they have no other option, neither should men for that matter. People stay in a marriage because they want to, or at least they should only stay because of that. He should have done the honorable thing and changed the ownership of the apartment in her name, and then gave her the option. I would have respected him if he had done it that way, but I think he’s too much of a greedy pig who wants to have it all: the wives, the kids, the apartments!
Case No. 2:
Uncle MA… now that one married his beautiful cousin and I am saying beautiful not just because she really is, but because this is how he always bragged about her looks!! MA comes from a religious background; however, his parents have been separated long time ago, splitting him and his siblings in the middle for no apparent reason! He left to Kuwait long ago with his wife; he has three daughters within the same age categories of my sisters and I. During gulf war, they moved back to Cairo and he spent months unemployed while she worked and provided for the entire family! I am not saying she did it all by herself, but the whole concept of her sticking by him should have meant something when he decided to marry the ‘beautiful’ flight attendant he used to see regularly on his flights from and to Kuwait.
Of course the wife got offended big time, she insisted on a divorce, and since she had 3 daughters, she was entitled to their Cairo apartment, not that she needed it! However, he did not divorce her!! His argument was, my parents are separated and it’s working and she wouldn’t remarry anyway!! He married the flight attendant and gave birth to a boy (did I mention he said he wanted a son!!)
Now he lives with his second wife and son in a huge apartment (three apartments combined) in the name of two his daughters plus his son. And has the other apartment where his first wife and the girls live in the name of the middle daughter and he thinks he did them well!
Now, the girls, the older two have serious eating problems in addition to a somehow anti-social behavior. Those two girls are the same girls who used to tell me I should let my hair loose the first day I ever say them, did not even start a conversation last time I saw them!!! Their mom, developed cancer and got a divorce shortly after, since the second wife demanded that.
I don’t know how MA sleeps at night. I mean yes, he did not commit adultery… but does wanting a son serves as a justifiable reason, and if it is, shouldn’t he have taken better care of the daughters he already had?? And shouldn’t he have granted his first wife the divorce she asked for when she did, instead of divorcing her after she got sick upon the second wife’s request??? To him, he thinks he was being fair by dividing apartments on his kids… but I wish to tell him that when he dies, the apartment, the big one, will only go to the son and the second wife the way things work in Egypt.
Case No. 3:
Mr. AA, the husband’s previous employer. He is a multi millionaire, from a well known family who believes he is religious enough because he happens to pray and refrains from drinking! It’s strange he gives minimum wages to hard working people and still believes that way, but who am I to judge!
He married his secretary and had two sons and two daughters. 22 years later, he married his 25 year old secretary at the age of 50. What was the reason? I think refraining from adultery, although it wasn’t announced. So his new wife got a wedding gift of 400000.00 EGP worth, in addition to a latest Lincoln Grand Marquise model which she had specially ordered. I don’t care how judgmental I would sound when I say she married him for the money.
The day his family found out, the wife collapsed and I think she hit hysteric paralysis, yet she never asked for a divorce, probably for financial and social reasons! His daughter almost had a car accident as she got into her car right after he told her himself he was marrying someone a couple of years older than her! his mother and brothers refused to attend the wedding (yes, it was a big white wedding!!), and the new wife’s sister got promoted in the company and of course the new wife herself was not stupid enough to quit work and leave room for another Twinkie (I am sorry, I just couldn’t help it)!!
Almost 2 years later, he lost a good franchise to his competitor (yestahel) and his company has been liquidized and divided between him and his siblings since I don’t think they could trust him with their money anymore. I don’t know anything about his family or his business since I don’t know anything about the husband to begin with, but I can’t help but wish he gets a taste of his own medicine when the new wife decides she’s still young enough to find someone her own age.
I remember how much I despised that man when it all happened. He did not stop to consider the impact his second marriage had on his wife, that I can barely understand… but what about the negative impact it had on his kids??? His daughter could go marry someone his age just to spite him, and he wouldn’t even argue, but I’d like to see him try!!!
Talking to my father (who kept laughing cynically as I was telling him the whole story with passion enough to start media war on that man), he was like “he thinks he did nothing wrong, he still provides for both of the wives, and supports his kids financially”… I insisted “but what about destroying his kids emotionally, I mean don’t fathers have obligations towards their kids”… he continued “he thinks he did the best he could, his calculations are merely financial, and he thinks it’s more than enough… not just him, a lot of people think that way… and it could be right to an extent you just never know… you see, justice cannot be applied as far as emotions are concerned”… I know what my dad meant, it just wouldn’t register in my head!! I know and I understand why one cannot be fair when it comes to their emotions and I understand that fairness can only be applied with tangibles, but those men I mentioned caused tangible emotional damage to people whom they should care more for.
I am not saying it’s religion’s fault, I am only saying that the way people apply religion SUCKS, and it does our religion great injustice.
I don’t know how to say that the “right” way, but I think second or multiple marriages are only ok if no one gets harmed; at least not the children!! If women in our society are forced to stay in dead-end marriages just for the sake of the kids, then perhaps men should reconsider second marriages for the same reason.
However, if the choice ever comes between second marriage and adultery, I would vote for second marriage because no person in the right mind should choose what’s wrong over what’s right, and like fadfadation said, marriage protects the rights of all parties involved, not just money wise, but also social acceptance wise, which is very important, especially in or society.
I know it’s hard to believe, but I will say it nonetheless: if he had come to me saying “insomniac, I think I am in love with her and I will marry her, it’s your choice to stay or walk out on this marriage, but I am doing what I have to do!” I would have left. I know I would have cried rivers, but my tears would not have the same bitter aftertaste of the humiliation of being cheated upon, of being compared to a person I have no respect for, of being lied to and hurt just to cover up for several moments of weakness… after all, I would like to think I deserved better treatment, and I would have liked to think that I was worth more than an affair, that I was worth something legitimate.
But hey, that’s just me!!
I went on a six-day trip to come back and find that very controversial topic about second marriages vs. cheating discussed by fadfadation. Reading the post, I had too many thoughts that just wouldn’t fit into the comment space, so here it goes…
All through my life, I’ve heard my dad’s jokes with friends about the whole having-a-second-wife thing!! He’d always say how it is 7alal and that men are entitled to do it and no woman should “te7arram” what was deemed 7alal! Nonetheless, when the females in the discussion (either friends or friends’ wives) start attacking his thinking, he’d say with his well known sarcastic tone “howa elly yetgawez marra ye3melha tany… Bas bardo da 7aga rabena 7alelha le sabab we 7alelha be shoroot” (he’s basically mocking marriage and saying that he who marries once should be wise enough to never do it again! Yet, if religion allowed second marriages, it must be for a reason; moreover, it’s governed by certain rules)
I remember a childhood friend of my age, who got engaged around the same time I did insisted on debating with my dad saying “… but what about love”… my dad being the biggest cynic I know (who somehow still believes in morals in away) told her something like “fe thawabet, al 7alalo bayen wal 7aramo bayen.. manlakhbatsh nafsena be mostala7at nesbeya zay el 7obb” (rules are rules, religion is crystal clear about right and wrong… there is no need to confuse ourselves with relative terms such as love). It did not convince my friend, she argued about the certain rules and what they should be. She was not able to imagine what could possibly be a good reason for a man to remarry and put the first wife whom he loves/loved through such misery. At that point, I told her “if he no longer loved her, then she should not be with him, and if he did, yet he still wanted to be with another one, it’s either she accepts it for it’s better than adultery, or she can walk away with her pride well preserved”… the look on my friend’s face was indescribable!! It was like I betrayed women every where by believing that love fades!! She did not believe that I could speak that way despite being in love and planning to marry that man I loved.
I think it goes without saying that the whole second marriage never shocked me really!! I have to admit though, I always found it hard to believe that men are indeed capable of loving two wives, but like everything I find hard to believe, I did not spend much time dwelling on it. After all, I had the “perfect guy” who was going to love me forever and ever. **insert a cynical looking smiley right here to judge me**
Now, six years later, I try my best to think of second marriages that actually worked without having any negative impact about those involved… I can’t seem to find any! You see, in every case, the man would say he had “reasons”, but who defines reasons? Him? Either of the wives? Society? Religion? I am not that strong religion wise as my readings are pretty limited, so I am sorry if I don’t know what good religious reasons are! Here are a few cases from real life, of which I would like to get opinions from you…
Case No. 1:
T… T is a friend of my dad… a supposedly extra religious figure (whom I think gives religion a bad name sadly) who had been imprisoned for a failed attempt to murder late President Sadat. He married his wife while he was in prison (as in katab ketabo) and I have to say that I never understood why on earth she married someone who was sentenced that long, let alone someone who believed that murder was a good idea!!
Of course by the time he came out, she was too old to give birth (late 30s or 40s, I am that bad guessing people’s age!!). However, they visited a number of doctors until they were convinced that she cannot bear children. Of course, since adoption and surrogate parents are not an option in Islam, his remarrying was the only left option.
That man went bride shopping, looking for divorcettes/widows who already had kids to ensure he’d have kids of his own, given that he had done the necessary lab work for himself and proved fertile. He forgot that the first wife spent a good number of years waiting for him (I don’t understand why, I just never will!!) He did not stop to consider her feelings knowing she can never have kids of her own, and only worried about having his own kids; I am sorry, I think that was cruel of him… If he was to get married, he should have done it more decently; talked to her, gave her some time to feel supported and appreciated before tossing her aside the way he did.
She did not ask for a divorce because she had no one else to support her, you see, she paid for the apartment where they lived, but it’s in his name (I am seriously doubting her IQ level as I am writing this), and she had nowhere else to live except with her brother; therefore, she accepted being the first wife/nanny for his kids while he married that other woman and provided her with another apartment (also in his name, which means he could afford buying another apartment!!).
Again, I try not judge, but this man hurt his first wife and abused the right God gave him. I don’t think women should stay in a marriage because they have no other option, neither should men for that matter. People stay in a marriage because they want to, or at least they should only stay because of that. He should have done the honorable thing and changed the ownership of the apartment in her name, and then gave her the option. I would have respected him if he had done it that way, but I think he’s too much of a greedy pig who wants to have it all: the wives, the kids, the apartments!
Case No. 2:
Uncle MA… now that one married his beautiful cousin and I am saying beautiful not just because she really is, but because this is how he always bragged about her looks!! MA comes from a religious background; however, his parents have been separated long time ago, splitting him and his siblings in the middle for no apparent reason! He left to Kuwait long ago with his wife; he has three daughters within the same age categories of my sisters and I. During gulf war, they moved back to Cairo and he spent months unemployed while she worked and provided for the entire family! I am not saying she did it all by herself, but the whole concept of her sticking by him should have meant something when he decided to marry the ‘beautiful’ flight attendant he used to see regularly on his flights from and to Kuwait.
Of course the wife got offended big time, she insisted on a divorce, and since she had 3 daughters, she was entitled to their Cairo apartment, not that she needed it! However, he did not divorce her!! His argument was, my parents are separated and it’s working and she wouldn’t remarry anyway!! He married the flight attendant and gave birth to a boy (did I mention he said he wanted a son!!)
Now he lives with his second wife and son in a huge apartment (three apartments combined) in the name of two his daughters plus his son. And has the other apartment where his first wife and the girls live in the name of the middle daughter and he thinks he did them well!
Now, the girls, the older two have serious eating problems in addition to a somehow anti-social behavior. Those two girls are the same girls who used to tell me I should let my hair loose the first day I ever say them, did not even start a conversation last time I saw them!!! Their mom, developed cancer and got a divorce shortly after, since the second wife demanded that.
I don’t know how MA sleeps at night. I mean yes, he did not commit adultery… but does wanting a son serves as a justifiable reason, and if it is, shouldn’t he have taken better care of the daughters he already had?? And shouldn’t he have granted his first wife the divorce she asked for when she did, instead of divorcing her after she got sick upon the second wife’s request??? To him, he thinks he was being fair by dividing apartments on his kids… but I wish to tell him that when he dies, the apartment, the big one, will only go to the son and the second wife the way things work in Egypt.
Case No. 3:
Mr. AA, the husband’s previous employer. He is a multi millionaire, from a well known family who believes he is religious enough because he happens to pray and refrains from drinking! It’s strange he gives minimum wages to hard working people and still believes that way, but who am I to judge!
He married his secretary and had two sons and two daughters. 22 years later, he married his 25 year old secretary at the age of 50. What was the reason? I think refraining from adultery, although it wasn’t announced. So his new wife got a wedding gift of 400000.00 EGP worth, in addition to a latest Lincoln Grand Marquise model which she had specially ordered. I don’t care how judgmental I would sound when I say she married him for the money.
The day his family found out, the wife collapsed and I think she hit hysteric paralysis, yet she never asked for a divorce, probably for financial and social reasons! His daughter almost had a car accident as she got into her car right after he told her himself he was marrying someone a couple of years older than her! his mother and brothers refused to attend the wedding (yes, it was a big white wedding!!), and the new wife’s sister got promoted in the company and of course the new wife herself was not stupid enough to quit work and leave room for another Twinkie (I am sorry, I just couldn’t help it)!!
Almost 2 years later, he lost a good franchise to his competitor (yestahel) and his company has been liquidized and divided between him and his siblings since I don’t think they could trust him with their money anymore. I don’t know anything about his family or his business since I don’t know anything about the husband to begin with, but I can’t help but wish he gets a taste of his own medicine when the new wife decides she’s still young enough to find someone her own age.
I remember how much I despised that man when it all happened. He did not stop to consider the impact his second marriage had on his wife, that I can barely understand… but what about the negative impact it had on his kids??? His daughter could go marry someone his age just to spite him, and he wouldn’t even argue, but I’d like to see him try!!!
Talking to my father (who kept laughing cynically as I was telling him the whole story with passion enough to start media war on that man), he was like “he thinks he did nothing wrong, he still provides for both of the wives, and supports his kids financially”… I insisted “but what about destroying his kids emotionally, I mean don’t fathers have obligations towards their kids”… he continued “he thinks he did the best he could, his calculations are merely financial, and he thinks it’s more than enough… not just him, a lot of people think that way… and it could be right to an extent you just never know… you see, justice cannot be applied as far as emotions are concerned”… I know what my dad meant, it just wouldn’t register in my head!! I know and I understand why one cannot be fair when it comes to their emotions and I understand that fairness can only be applied with tangibles, but those men I mentioned caused tangible emotional damage to people whom they should care more for.
I am not saying it’s religion’s fault, I am only saying that the way people apply religion SUCKS, and it does our religion great injustice.
I don’t know how to say that the “right” way, but I think second or multiple marriages are only ok if no one gets harmed; at least not the children!! If women in our society are forced to stay in dead-end marriages just for the sake of the kids, then perhaps men should reconsider second marriages for the same reason.
However, if the choice ever comes between second marriage and adultery, I would vote for second marriage because no person in the right mind should choose what’s wrong over what’s right, and like fadfadation said, marriage protects the rights of all parties involved, not just money wise, but also social acceptance wise, which is very important, especially in or society.
I know it’s hard to believe, but I will say it nonetheless: if he had come to me saying “insomniac, I think I am in love with her and I will marry her, it’s your choice to stay or walk out on this marriage, but I am doing what I have to do!” I would have left. I know I would have cried rivers, but my tears would not have the same bitter aftertaste of the humiliation of being cheated upon, of being compared to a person I have no respect for, of being lied to and hurt just to cover up for several moments of weakness… after all, I would like to think I deserved better treatment, and I would have liked to think that I was worth more than an affair, that I was worth something legitimate.
But hey, that’s just me!!
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