Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Murder...

I wonder what drives a person to end another life. I wonder what kind of rage or stupidity must be present in a person’s heart to be able to end someone’s life.
Two men start an argument. They yell. They scream profanities. They say shit they do not mean. This is an everyday occurrence here in Cairo. There are always fights on the street. Most Egyptians are peaceful people, they yell and then they go on their not so merry ways. In Egypt, you hardly ever hear of fights that go further than yelling. You hardly hear of fights that get violent.
On a street close to the street I call home there was a fight. Men were yelling. They were angry. They yelled and they fought. One went to his car and got a knife. A really big knife. He used that knife. He used it to fight the man. He stabbed the man in his stomach. Blood gushed out and covered his body in seconds. Blood filled the man’s shirt. The man’s eyes filled with fear, shock, and disbelief. It was like you see on TV; the man looked down at himself and opened his mouth in shock. He swaggered. The knife yielding man got in his car and parked further up the road. He walked back to the blood drenched man. He fought him again. He kicked and punched the man. The blood drenched man was helpless. He sat there and took in his last remaining breaths of air. He watched the last seconds of his life fly by. His last memory of life was of a man fighting him. He looked down and saw his own blood. He died.
His body laid there for hours. This man became a newspaper covered lump on the side of the road. This man went from being something to being nothing. This man, with all his hopes and dreams, just stopped existing. This man became a horror story that keeps me awake at night. This man was murdered…

Saturday, April 19, 2008

My relationship with food...

I just ordered food. I was starving. I wondered how I would wait the 30 or 40 minutes until the food arrived...
I am always like that. I don't feel normal levels of hunger... I am always bordering starvation.
The food came. I opened it. I took a bite. Another bite. Another bite. I started to feel full. One more bite.
Shit, I am stuffed.
I feel like I will be sick if I eat anymore...

Damn, why does this always happen to me? I eat very little. I usually finish half of my plate. I used to think that I was acting in front of my ex-boyfriend when I would do that. I did not think that I could really be full. I used to think that I was trying to be a girly girl. Umm, I wasn't very good at that game. Our conversations went something like this.

Me: Umm, hey how are you habibi?
Him: I am good. How YOU doin?
Me: Good. So, what are your plans for lunch.
Him: Nothing. I was going to go home and take a nap.
Me: Good. I'll meet you under your house at 2:30. We'll go to Lucille's. I am starving like a bitch. I don't know if bitches starve or not... but you get the idea. I am hungry. I am bitter. I want a lot of meat now....
Him: umm, ok. Sounds like a plan. See you then.

We hang up....

A few hours later he calls back.

Me: If you are calling to cancel I am gonna kill you. I have my heart, mind, and stomach set on hamburgers. Forgiveness would be impossible...
Him: Umm, no. I was calling to see if you're running late or not. Should I take my time and drive slow and shit?
Me: Oh, heheheheheh, umm, yeah. Drive slow.

See, I am not a girly girl. I do not know many girly girls that threaten men with death when they suspect that they will be denied meat. I don't usually order salads... and when I do it is seriously because I am craving one.
So, why am I not able to eat? Why do I get full so fast?
This is kinda annoying...

I have become a not credible person... when I say I am starving most people already know that I will only take a few bites and I will be full. This is a fucking pain in my ass.
I seriously want to eat. I want to eat so much and enjoy it...
4 bites and I am stuffed?!?!?!?!?!
What the fuck????
Pathetic!!!!

:o)

Friday, April 18, 2008

Happy Birthday to me!!!

Well, my birthday came and went. This year the birthday was different. I had so much fun. I was not disappointed at all. I spent it with some kick ass people.
It started the weekend before my birthday. My weekend was laid back and amazing. I had so much fun. I hung out with some friends that I do not hang out with much.. so it was cool. I had some people over for a movie night and that was fun. The movie was stupid... but the sarcastic comments made us all laugh more than we have in a long time.
My students remembered it was my birthday which was impressive. I mentioned it 3 weeks before my birthday. I hardly remember things if you tell me 3 weeks prior. These 6 year olds amaze me day in and day out.
Sunday night I went out for dinner with some friends. We had amazing food at a great restaurant. I got a coffee pot.. which means no more crappy coffee! YAY!!
After that, kareokee and stupidity! We went to a grand opening of a new kareokee bar. It was empty pretty much.. which just meant we had more room for stupidity. Some more friends were there and we sang, and danced, and were stupid. I laughed so much. I had a great time.
My family all called me. Which was cool. My brother was in a great mood. My niece was adorable. My mom was happy. My sister was sarcastic. My dad remembered it was my birthday. My aunts and uncles all called too.
A guy who was an asshole to me years ago apologized... which was great. I was touched.
After that, I sang. I danced. I was stupid. I got felt up by another girl or two. I danced the YMCA song. I made everyone dance to the YMCA song with me...
I went home, slept for an hour and went to work...

It was a crazy day. It was the "funnest" birthday I have had in years. It was the introduction to my "theme-party" birthday which is tonight!

Thursday, April 10, 2008

Weekly Randomness...

This week and its randomness..

I was asked if someone could masterbate to my pictures.
I planned a vacation.
I consoled a widower.
I went to a doctor.
I felt sick.
I kissed a boy.
I confronted someone.
I was re-friended on facebook.
I had a good conversation with an ex.
I had a not so good conversation with an ex.
I was followed home.
I sang.
I laughed.
I flirted.
I cried.
I confessed a feeling.
I suppressed a desire.
I was running late.
I met an old friend.
I ditched an old friend.
I felt good.
I cooked a meal.
I stood up for myself.
I defended someone.
I helped a child.
I helped a grown up.
I felt pretty.
I changed an opinion.
I acknowledged a fear.
I procrastinated.
I kicked ass at work.
I missed a deadline.
I met a deadline.

Sunday, April 06, 2008

The day I became a racist...

I don't watch the news. I stopped sometime towards the end of 2001. I was in New York on September 11th. The whole nation was plastered in front of their t.v.s watching FOX, CNN, ABC, etc news.. Everybody had to have their fix. We all needed to know what was going on. I personally watched it because I was scared. I was hoping that knowledge would make me feel better. I was hoping that knowledge would make me stop sitting in bed at night wondering what the hell is going on in this world.. wondering when the world became such a scary place to be...
It didn't...
I was petrified for months. I would hyperventilate when I would think about my upcoming flight. I would not want to travel. I became scared of the dark. I became scared of loud noises. I became scared of the sound of a plane's engine. My fear of flying was magnified. I was living in fear.
A few days, weeks, months, something after September 11th I had to get on a plane. I was going to London and then Egypt. I was in line for one of the many security checks at JFK and I remember seeing a man with a beard. A muslim man with a beard. I do not remember if he was with a family or alone. I do not know if there was more than one or only one.. but I remember him. I saw him and I saw his beard and I freaked out. I did not want to board my plane. I did not want to fly. I was petrified that this man might be on my flight. I was petrified that this muslim man and I might board the same plane. I was petrified of a man who shares the same religion as myself.
Extremely religious people have always weirded me out. I have memories of priests in churches, religious family members, sheikh friends of my father, etc that have left me uneasy. I never hated them. I just never understood them. This was the first time that I felt extreme fear solely based on appearance... because this apperance happened to represent religion.
I became predjuiced. I became racist. I became a person that I never thought I would be.
I was torn... I remember realizing the fact that I am racist. I remember understanding that I am generalizing. I remember still being scared and hating myself for it.
This is when I realized that that was the effect of news on me.
News had somehow managed to influence me. News changed me and changed everything I believed in. I guess I am to blame as my beliefs should not falter.. but I am not perfect. My beliefs do falter. My convictions are lacking.
This is when I decided to not watch the news.
This is when I decided that political ignorance is much more attractive.

Thursday, April 03, 2008

Snapshots...

They say a picture is worth a thousand words...
I felt that when I was going through some old pictures I have.

My graduation pictures...
Me, 2 of my closest friends, my aunt and her husband, 3 cousins, and an uncle.
Notice the absence of my dad. He could not be bothered to fly to attend. It broke my heart. I wanted him to see me that day, I wanted him to be proud, I wanted him to see me as a grown up...

My brother's Marine picture...
This is the first picture he took as a Marine. He went through a lot to become a Marine. He endured shit that I cannot imagine. He wanted to feel strong and invincible. He wanted to escape all the pain he felt. I didn't know what he was trying to escape from when he took the picture. When I saw it I felt the pride that anyone with a Marine in their family feels... but my heart broke when I saw the cold emotionless look on his face. To me, it looked like my little brother was a cold, broken man... This picture breaks my heart more now.. now that I know what he was trying to feel strong against.

My dad's wedding picture...
He married a whore. She looks like a cheap whore in the picture. I was not there. Neither were my brother or sister. We were never really a part of their life. I think that is how she wanted it. She wanted my dad and his money for herself... and she got it. She took the money and broke the man I call "daddy".

Picture of my mom and my niece...
My niece is wearing a "galabaya". She is cute. My mom is holding her. My mom looks beautiful. She is smiling from her heart. You can see the love she has for my niece in her eyes. She is happy. I bought the galabaya for my niece when I first found out that I would be going home to visit her. I had never seen her before and I was excited. I loved the galabaya and I loved how my niece looked in it. This is one of my favorite pictures of her.

Picture from my sister's honeymoon...
They went to Italy. She looks so happy. He looks happy. It is a black and white picture so it has this timeless and nostalgic feel to it. Everytime I see this picture I regain my faith in the instituion of marriage and relationships.

Recent pictures of me...
I used to hate pictures of me. I like the recent pictures of me. I am always smiling. I am happy. I am not self-conscious and covering myself up. I am not hiding from the camera because I want to hide from the world anymore. I am comfortable being me.

Pictures from my engagement...
We broke up years ago.. but I still like the pictures. I don't harbor negative feelings. My heart doesn't break when I see them. I don't want him back. I was happy that day. I couldn't stop smiling. I liked my dress. I liked the party. I liked being the superstar of the day. My favorit picture from that day is a picture of my uncle and me sitting next to the pool after the party. He is my favorite uncle and I loved the fact that he surprised me and came.

Pictures of my students...
I love them. They're tiny. They're cute. They remind me that life is simple. They help me see the wonder of everything. They amaze me when I think about how much they have learned in one year. They are six years old. They are tri-lingual. They can use computers, cell phones, they memorize songs and verses from the Quran, they play and they study, they are learning responsibility and at the same time want nothing more than to run around and play. They are smart. They are sarcastic (my influence!). They are funny. They are six years old.