The best years of your life...

I always heard that the best years of your life are your college years... Come to think of it; I always hear that the best years of your life are your childhood years. Ironically, I always hear that the the best years of your life are always in the past. That you never know that you are actually living the good years.

Today I went for a walk and I was thinking about life, my friends, my job, and my upcoming plans... and I realized that these are the best years of my life. I realized that life has all kinds of drama, bullshit, heartache, stress, and so many other nasty things... but when I thought about being at a friends for coffee, or hanging out at our favorite kareoke bar, or walking into my classroom in the morning, or my usual Saturday plans, or myriad other things I realized that I love my life.. I am living the best years of my life.

Optimistic much... maybe it is the yoga. Maybe it is something in the air. Maybe it is just the fact that I made a lot of great things happen for myself this year and I am proud. Maybe it is just being lucky to have the friends list that I have. Maybe I just kick ass....

:)

Leave me alone...

Ooofff...
I am in a not so good mood.
Everybody annoys me. Everything annoys me.

I am feeling quite antisocial...

Everybody, just leave me alone for a while...

Flying, Sleeping, and Jet-Lagging...

A week ago I was in Cairo. I was just hanging out trying to decide what I will do for the summer. It was cool. I was enjoying the lazy days of my summer vacation. It was Saturday. I decide I will leave with my sister on Monday.
I have always been a last minute kind of person... but that was more than I could handle. I was stressed and freaking out and so many other things.
I hate flying... and the thought of a 12 hour flight was making me feel sick to my stomach.

I get the wonderful idea that I will take some kind of medicine that will help me sleep. I just did not have the time to set myself up for the flight.. so I would just sleep through it.
Anyway, I get on the plane in London heading to DC and I take Nytol. It is supposed to last 4 to 6 hours. I figure that is perfect for the almost 8 hour flight.. I am awake for less than the time it takes me to finish dinner. I slept through almost the whole flight.
I wonder why I never tried Nytol before... The Nytol tag line is "Nytol will help you catch your Z's" and it definitely did that.
I get home and fall asleep.
I am basically asleep for 3 days. I wake up every once in a while for water and to ask what day and time it was.
I have never had jet lag like that before!
I am still confused as to what day it is...

But.. I am here! And I am having an amazing time so far! I'll write about the stupid and crazy stories I've accumulated so far.. but after I take a nap...

Worthy of worry?

I noticed something about myself... I am tough on myself and I blame it on my detest of drama. I don't want people to worry about me. I don't want too much attention when things are not going so well.

A friend of mine read my last post and he called me to check up on me and on how I was doing. I was ok, but not completely ok. I felt alone and hollow inside. So, when he asked.. I told him I am fine. I told him it was not an emotional experience at all. He told me that I wrote that it was... I just stayed quiet. I think he knew I was hiding the fact that I was not ok...

My sister and brother call me regularly and ask me how I am after having seen a man get murdered. I always say that I am fine. That I barely think about it at all. Truth is, I do think about it. I see his face almost daily. I see his fear almost daily. I remember him if I am walking down a dark street. I remember the knife everytime I hear a noise in my building. I see his face at night in my dreams.
I never told my dad that I saw it. I just did not want to talk about it. I did not want him to worry about me. I tell my sister and brother that I am fine and I change the subject when they call. I just want to avoid having people worry about me.

My friends call me and ask me how my back is. I always say that it is ok. I rarely tell them that at times, after a long day, I feel excruciating pain. I rarely tell them that I have not been going out on the weekends because I am usually in too much pain. I can't sit down at work and when my boss asks me if I am ok, I always just say that I need to stretch my legs for a bit.

There is some freak that sent me some weird messages on facebook asking me about things that I had done that day. I don't know who he is. I asked him and he ignored my question. I am scared that this random guy that I don't know had followed me around. I am scared that he knew who I was. I am very paranoid these days. My tazer has been put back into my bag and I am always looking behind my shoulder. I feel uneasy most of the time... but if anyone asks me, I always say I am fine...

So, I just wonder why I do this? Is it just my detest of drama? Is it a deep and suppressed idea of not being worthy of peoples' concern? Do I feel I am not worthy of worry?
Is it all just low self esteem? Or is it strength and a desire to do things on my own. It is a desire to not lean on people so much and to stand on my own feet and handle shit?

Wasted relationship...

I did something I never thought I would do.
I stood up to my father.
I told him that I thought he failed as a father. I told him he was given six chances and he has screwed them up. I told him that he needs to wake up and try to do better.
I listened to his excuses, and I proved they were bullshit.
I told him that he needs to man it up and deal with life. I told him that he needs to seperate his problems from his being a father.
I told him that when you become a parent you are no longer allowed to run away from it all and hide. I told him that he has a responsibity and he needs to deal with it or admit failure and let someone else do his job.
I told him that I think he is weaker than I ever thought he was. I told him that I understand he is going through a lot of shit, but I still can't accept that as an excuse.
I told him that I don't see him capable of being my father in the sense that he will teach me anything... and that I am trying to think of some other way that I could consider him a father.
I told him that he broke me and crushed a lot of my thoughts, dreams, and hopes. I told him that I grew up thinking was an amazing person... but I came to realize he is lacking in too many areas...
I told him so much crap that hurt me.
I cried my eyes out as I said it to him.
He responded with his cold and aloof ways. I hated him then.
The next day he called to tell me that he will take my car to be fixed so that I do not have to deal with it.
Two days later he told me I could come pick up my car.
He was out with I friend. I met them at the restaurant. He hugged me and told me that what I said did affect him. He told me he loved me.
I started to tear up in the restaurant again.
I don't know if I cried because I wanted him to say that... or because deep inside my heart I felt it was too late.
I am not able to give this man anymore of myself. I am not able to view him or love him like I did before.
I cried because it is a wasted relationship...

My Banking Hiatus...

So, Barclays has two mounds of dirt that they think are gardens. They have sprinklers to water them and everything. The sprinklers also water the few marble stairs leading down to the bank entrance... apparently if you water them, they will grow.
So, I think that the steps are just wet, not flooded with water. I take my first step.. and my foot actually never touches the marble... I guess my flip flops surfed on the water for less than a second and then my feet flew out from under me. I landed sitting upright on the step. I scream out in pain. Tears are already covering my cheeks. The pain was hideous. The sprinklers are still watering the steps.. and now the sprinklers are watering a teary and pained me. I can't move. Then I notice the big windows all along the walls of the bank. I can see the tellers.. which means that they can see me... Not a big deal, except for the fact that the hot banker dude is there today. We have been flirting back and forth for a while. Random text messages and so on... The flirting was fun.. SHIT!!! Cute banker dude can see this hideous, crying, wet version of me... Not a look any girl wants to be seen in!!!
Well, I begin to wallow and think to myself "could this get any worse".. As soon as I acknowlede the thought a few coworkers from work drive up. Crap! Situation has just gotten worse...
I am still in more pain than I can bear.. but I force myself to get up.. I carefully stand up. I cannot really stretch my back out.. so I am forced to waddle back to my car...!!!
I sit down. The bank manager rushes out to see me. My coworkers crowd around my car. I am just crying and trying to act non-chalant...
Umm, yeah, that was a bad day... I am off banking for a while!

Icelandic Brotherhood...

Ok, today's random fact...

"...geneticists have found that all Icelandic citizens are related."

(I am easily entertained!)

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…

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)

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!

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.

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.

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.

10 random things you might not know about me...

Ten random things most people don't know about me...

1. I have conversations with myself.... sometimes. Normally it is me thinking out loud.. but sometimes I feel stupid after I realize what I am doing.
Me: "Uh oh, I think we put too much salt.. How can we fix that? Hmm, maybe we can scoop it out. Yeah, that's a good idea."
or
Me: "I have to buy more juice. I should write that down so that I don't forget. Well, you're only going to the store for 3 things... will you really forget? Maybe it is better to write all three down and this way I am sure I will not forget anything...

2. I know no moderation. I do everything at an extreme. I spend money extremely. I drive extremely stupidly. I talk extremely quietly. I talk an extreme amount. I can be extremely loud when I yell or scream. I am extremely nice or extremely bitchy. I waste extreme amounts of time on the internet or I spend no time on the internet.

3. I take most of my pictures after I have had a drink or two. There is something about alcohol that makes me want to take stupid pictures.

4. Most nights I have horrible nightmares. I wake up in the middle of the nightmare and most times I am unable to fall asleep again.

5. I normally buy things in bulk. I do not know why I do this. I live alone. I do not really need anything in bulk... but I feel like I just have to buy shitloads of everything.

6. I think bald guys are sexy. I think bald guys in suits are incredibly sexy.

7. I love men's undershirts. I wear them under my shirts a lot. I wear them with my pajamas. Funny thing is, I hate women's undershirts....

8. Feet disgust me. My feet and other people's feet too. Sometimes I freak out if someone's feet touch me... on better days I just get incredibly uncomfortable and move away very very quickly.

9. I am addicted to stationary shops. Whenever I go into one I spend hours just looking. I always buy things that I do not need. I always convince myself that I need 50 more pens.

10. My purse is always filled with a shitload of crap that I do not need. I am able to go out with just my cell phone, money, and cigarettes.... but when I go out and I have a purse with me.. for some reason I think about weird shit that I might need that night. Bandaids, a pen, paper, safety pins, make up, gum, a charger for my phone, medicine, perfume, chapstick, a camera, etc, etc, etc.... Things are much worse when I have one of my huge bags with me... I'll start carrying even more random shit....

So, what are 10 random things about you?

(Fesh.. Umm, I noticed that nobody asked you to answer this one. Just another point that proves my case!! Anyway, if sympathy tags exist.. than I guess that's what you could call this..)

Teaching is not always easy...

Sometimes you have to decide if you should correct sentences like these or not...

So, if I change the sentence and the girl asks me why her sentence is wrong... what do I say...?

Hmm, I think I will leave it for now, I am sure somewhere along the way she will understand why this is wrong!

My goal can beat up your goal...

I was asked what my goals in life were...
I did not have to think about it at all, I know what my goals are.
Actually, I know what my goal is...
My life goal is to be happy...

When I said this the guy asking me just laughed. He said he wanted a serious answer. I told him that I am serious... and that I know that my one goal could beat up all his little goals... (ok, at times I am a bit competitve.. in a child-like way)!
So, I explained...
With my one goal I keep myself on track. I think about life, I evaluate where I am and what I do not like.. and then I start to change things.
Being happy is not a momentary feeling. It is not only a feeling associated with partying. It is not only a feeling from being with a guy you like.. it encompasses all.
I know that I want to be more independent, that will make me happy.
I know that I want to save more money, that will make me happy.
I know that I want to travel the world, that will make me happy.
I know that I want to be a stronger person, that will make me happy.
I know that I want to be a good friend, that will make me happy.
I know that I want to think about religion more, that will make me happy.
I know that I want to be respectable in all that I do, that will make me happy.

So, my one goal encompasses all.. but at the same time it is a very easy way of determining what I want oout of life...
Hmm, that is all the money I have in the bank. Am I happy with that? No. Ok, So I need to spend less and save more. Ok..

So.. I bet my goal can beat up your goal!!

;oP