So you think you know what Love is huh ?
Well think again...because you know nothing.
Tuesday, 30 June 2009
Friday, 26 June 2009
An Electrifying Argument...
My mother, God bless her, has this very annoying habit of leaving the lights on even though she's not using that particular room at that particular time.
This is almost always a cause for an argument. Of course, I am the one who starts it.
- Yumma (mom in Iraqi), you've left the lights on again !
- Ohoo, stop nagging me
- Think electricity bills
- Ohoo, Layla, "mat juzeen" - you never cease...
- Okay, think that you are contributing to global warming. Do you want to be an extra cause for global warming ?
- Global warming ! You are worried about global warming, when they burned us alive!
Obviously the money and ecological twists have failed...
- Okay, think about your brothers and sisters, they only get 2 hours of electricity a day, no running water and it's 50 C.
That kind of does the trick.
- Tayyeb, tayyeb, I will switch it off, ohoo...
6 years down the line and Baghdad still has no electricity.
The "opposition" which is now the current puppet mafia ruling Iraq, used to claim that the "dictatorship" was deliberately cutting electrical output to oppress the Iraqi people.
Of course, the current ruling mafia cannot explain why there is less electricity today in the "free" Iraq than during sanction times where one could not even find a light bulb to buy...
One thing is for sure, occupied Baghdad is not contributing to global warming with excessive electrical consumption. Nor is it contributing to global water shortages and desertification, since there is no water...
Now that's a thought for the "Green movement" to ponder upon.
This is almost always a cause for an argument. Of course, I am the one who starts it.
- Yumma (mom in Iraqi), you've left the lights on again !
- Ohoo, stop nagging me
- Think electricity bills
- Ohoo, Layla, "mat juzeen" - you never cease...
- Okay, think that you are contributing to global warming. Do you want to be an extra cause for global warming ?
- Global warming ! You are worried about global warming, when they burned us alive!
Obviously the money and ecological twists have failed...
- Okay, think about your brothers and sisters, they only get 2 hours of electricity a day, no running water and it's 50 C.
That kind of does the trick.
- Tayyeb, tayyeb, I will switch it off, ohoo...
6 years down the line and Baghdad still has no electricity.
The "opposition" which is now the current puppet mafia ruling Iraq, used to claim that the "dictatorship" was deliberately cutting electrical output to oppress the Iraqi people.
Of course, the current ruling mafia cannot explain why there is less electricity today in the "free" Iraq than during sanction times where one could not even find a light bulb to buy...
One thing is for sure, occupied Baghdad is not contributing to global warming with excessive electrical consumption. Nor is it contributing to global water shortages and desertification, since there is no water...
Now that's a thought for the "Green movement" to ponder upon.
40 Years of Performance...
Had it not been for Michael Jackson, the stupid, racist MTV would have not allowed a black man. M.Jackson was the first black man to appear on MTV with his Billie Jean, paving the way for subsequent black artists...
A controversial, eccentric figure. Some loved to hate him and some hated to love him and some could not, not love him.
Whatever one believes about Michael Jackson, he nonetheless remains one of the greatest international performers, who made millions move to his beat.
Rest in Peace Michael and thank you for all the good you gave.
A controversial, eccentric figure. Some loved to hate him and some hated to love him and some could not, not love him.
Whatever one believes about Michael Jackson, he nonetheless remains one of the greatest international performers, who made millions move to his beat.
Rest in Peace Michael and thank you for all the good you gave.
Thursday, 25 June 2009
An imperfect Ode to Authenticity...
If there is one word in the English language, I absolutely revere, it is this one - Authenticity.
Authenticity and authentic people turn me on. It's that simple in my case.
When I say turn me on, I mean they manage to capture my attention, interest, energy...
We may have totally different view points, ways of being, tastes and a thousand other things...but none of that matters to me in those instances of authenticity.
I deeply respect authentic beings, precisely because they are authentic.
There is no veneer, no bullshit, no façade, no masks, no act, no comedy, no play...there is coherence and there is congruence -- there is just them being who they are...
Authentic people don't impose themselves, but they are not doormats either...they speak their own truth and content themselves with following their true higher selves...regardless.
What a liberating feeling to come across or be with someone like that, be it for short moments...
Authenticity goes beyond all borders and frontiers...it has no passport, no nationality, no religion, no race, no color, no class, no gender, no age...it is timeless, spaceless...it is a gift, it is a blessing, it is a precious gem and that is why it is so rare and so hard to find.
I do not know how to exactly describe it, but when you do come across it, you will instantly recognize it. For some it may be intimidating and they will eventually shun away, for others it is the elixir of their quest...
If you are in tune, you will immediately know who is authentic and who is not. Sometimes words are not necessary. Most of the time it is just a presence, a demeanor, a way of being...at other times it may be a few words -- some simple, essential stuff...
Authentic people are not loud, they do not shout their truths...nor do they silence it...they just are.
Another thing I noticed, authentic people become so...they strive for it, seek it, labor for it, and some forsake many worldly goods for it...their higher calling comes from deep within themselves - being authentic to themselves, to what they truly believe in and live accordingly -- is what makes their paths.
Authentic is not perfect - far from it. Authentic is just that - authentic.
There are no lies, no manipulations, no agendas, no tricks, no maneuverings, no stratagems, no mind games...There is no need for them in an authentic mind.
I don't know how to explain it in words - it is an experience.
You will know when you meet with it because it will never fail to touch you.
Youtube: A.Rieu. Shostakovitch Valse no.2.
Authenticity and authentic people turn me on. It's that simple in my case.
When I say turn me on, I mean they manage to capture my attention, interest, energy...
We may have totally different view points, ways of being, tastes and a thousand other things...but none of that matters to me in those instances of authenticity.
I deeply respect authentic beings, precisely because they are authentic.
There is no veneer, no bullshit, no façade, no masks, no act, no comedy, no play...there is coherence and there is congruence -- there is just them being who they are...
Authentic people don't impose themselves, but they are not doormats either...they speak their own truth and content themselves with following their true higher selves...regardless.
What a liberating feeling to come across or be with someone like that, be it for short moments...
Authenticity goes beyond all borders and frontiers...it has no passport, no nationality, no religion, no race, no color, no class, no gender, no age...it is timeless, spaceless...it is a gift, it is a blessing, it is a precious gem and that is why it is so rare and so hard to find.
I do not know how to exactly describe it, but when you do come across it, you will instantly recognize it. For some it may be intimidating and they will eventually shun away, for others it is the elixir of their quest...
If you are in tune, you will immediately know who is authentic and who is not. Sometimes words are not necessary. Most of the time it is just a presence, a demeanor, a way of being...at other times it may be a few words -- some simple, essential stuff...
Authentic people are not loud, they do not shout their truths...nor do they silence it...they just are.
Another thing I noticed, authentic people become so...they strive for it, seek it, labor for it, and some forsake many worldly goods for it...their higher calling comes from deep within themselves - being authentic to themselves, to what they truly believe in and live accordingly -- is what makes their paths.
Authentic is not perfect - far from it. Authentic is just that - authentic.
There are no lies, no manipulations, no agendas, no tricks, no maneuverings, no stratagems, no mind games...There is no need for them in an authentic mind.
I don't know how to explain it in words - it is an experience.
You will know when you meet with it because it will never fail to touch you.
Youtube: A.Rieu. Shostakovitch Valse no.2.
Monday, 22 June 2009
To A Father...
21st June 2009,
I am glad that the 21st June is considered Father's day...It also happens to be the longest day in the year.
The 21st of June is the Summer Solstice. The longest day where the Sun takes its sweet time to set...
There are no coincidences.
Traditionally, the Father/the Masculine is associated with the Sun.
And without the Sun, there is no Growth. Without the Sun, there is no light for Guidance, Guidance in worldly affairs -- day light activities. The Moon is reserved for the night and this is traditionally associated with the Feminine domain...But I will not get into that, because today, the focus is on the Sun.
The Sun is also associated with Authority, Rule of Law, Leadership, Logos, the Intellect...
The Father in his manifested "daylight" dimension is all of the above and more...
So for me, it makes total sense that Father's day is celebrated on the longest day of the year - the Summer Solstice.
I do realize that many Fathers fall short of the Sun's ideal...
They probably have embodied the negative aspects of the Sun...They burn, scorch, set ablaze...
They might fail in guiding, in providing, in giving the warmth...the growth.
They are the human embodiment of the Sun...and humans are so terribly imperfect...some more than others...
But still, had it not been for that father of your's, you would still be a coagulated tiny sperm, buried, hanging around, in some testicle...
Thanks to him, and to whatever turned him on, you are here today...you are here reading this post, thinking, contemplating, feeling...you are here today, very alive...
Probably cursing your father, but you're still here.
God bless him for bringing you here.
No parent is perfect, and fathers are no exceptions... There is NO perfect father...
And some are way more imperfect than others - granted.
But I believe in honoring the memory, regardless. Regardless if they were "good" or "bad", regardless if they are alive or dead, regardless if they were the Sun or just its shadow...
I, personally, loved my father. He was a kind, generous, highly sensitive, highly intelligent man...he was not perfect either...
And still, I love him today, more than ever.
I am indebted to him in so many ways...I only realized how indebted to him I was, was when he was gone.
Even what appeared as negatives, I realized today, were absolutely necessary for my growth...He was a teacher "malgré" despite of himself...
Our parents are our best teachers, our best gurus...even though for some the lesson is very hefty...
It's okay. It really is. Because deep inside yourself you know it was meant to be that way, for a specific purpose...
I hear many complaining of their parents, their fathers (since this the subject of the day).
He was/is hard, cruel, authoritarian, stubborn, cold, unavailable... he abandoned me, he beat me up, he abused me, he was never there...etc...
Yes, all of that may be true. But look at where you are at today.
Thanks to his cruelty and hardness, you are developing compassion or trying to. Thanks to his stubbornness you have become a rebel espousing greater causes...
Thanks to his coldness, you are asking yourself questions about relationships...
Thanks to his unavailability, you are here today reading this post about Fathers...
Our parents are our best gurus, our best teachers...I will never cease repeating that.
Some of you may argue -- "I have become like my own dad...I repeat the same stuff over and over again..."
I say to you -- not really.
If you can say I have become like my own dad, then you cannot be.
There is already a separation in consciousness...A germinating seed that is growing apart, again thanks to him...someone you can compare yourself to, hence you are already separated...de facto.
Okay so what's with this introduction ?
Nothing much. Just to tell you, that your dads however imperfect they are, are still your dads...and your best teachers...your best guides for growth, just like the Sun.
And of course, being an Iraqi, I cannot but think of the thousands of Iraqi fathers, however imperfect and "patriarchal" they may be...
I can't help think of how much they have already sacrificed either with their own lives, forsaking it all - family, wife, children, fortune, fame - for a higher cause, for a higher Logos...
I cannot but pay tribute and reverence to those who sacrificed worldly matters for a just higher cause/mission...
I cannot but pay my respects to those who are still in cages, imprisoned in an eternal night, dying to see the light of day, who despite the horrendous torture they are subjected to, have only one wish, greater than dying - that of seeing their wives and children one more time...
I cannot but acknowledge the thousands of fathers, who labor day and night with a great sense of guilt, angst, worry...to provide for their families...
I cannot but honor the Iraqi man, whose daily life is made of extreme hardships, humiliations, dangers, risks and sacrifices...
This is his way of loving under Occupation.
And to Him I dedicate this post.
Painting : Iraqi artist, Saad Najm.
Saturday, 20 June 2009
A Mirage - "Fata Morgana"
"A "fata morgana" is a mirage, an optical phenomenon which results from a temperature inversion. Objects on the horizon, such as islands, cliffs, ships or icebergs, appear elongated and elevated."...
A big THANK YOU to Y. for sending me this. Where would I be without my friends ?!
The lyrics are just...wonderful.
A big THANK YOU to Y. for sending me this. Where would I be without my friends ?!
The lyrics are just...wonderful.
Stupid Men...
I want to share with you a secret...
I know some of you will think am way off, way off the wall....but trust me, what am about to tell you is very true.
Men in general...I repeat men in general, really believe that if you express interest in them...give attention the way they fantasized, expected, hoped for...if YOU have expressed interest in them...they translate that into meaning that THEY have conquered you.
I know, on the surface it sounds really silly, kind of stupid, but most men are stupid because they react to their own "thing" inside of their heads...
This is particularly true for men who believe relationships with women are about an eternal seductive, cat and mouse game.
Men like that are very stupid...
They always fail to understand that the one who gives can also withhold.
I know some of you will think am way off, way off the wall....but trust me, what am about to tell you is very true.
Men in general...I repeat men in general, really believe that if you express interest in them...give attention the way they fantasized, expected, hoped for...if YOU have expressed interest in them...they translate that into meaning that THEY have conquered you.
I know, on the surface it sounds really silly, kind of stupid, but most men are stupid because they react to their own "thing" inside of their heads...
This is particularly true for men who believe relationships with women are about an eternal seductive, cat and mouse game.
Men like that are very stupid...
They always fail to understand that the one who gives can also withhold.
Training Grounds...
It just hit me. Bloody hell, it just hit me.
Every single thing I have experienced, the hard and not so hard stuff...every single thing I rebelled against with a "that is so fucking unfair, unjust...", every single thing that cut me apart, that wrenched my guts out...
Every single thing was nothing but a preparation to face something greater and be better armed for, in the process...
No point fighting it. It is nothing but training grounds for something bigger than yourself...
Every single thing I have experienced, the hard and not so hard stuff...every single thing I rebelled against with a "that is so fucking unfair, unjust...", every single thing that cut me apart, that wrenched my guts out...
Every single thing was nothing but a preparation to face something greater and be better armed for, in the process...
No point fighting it. It is nothing but training grounds for something bigger than yourself...
Tuesday, 16 June 2009
Entries and Exits...
There is something that never fails to amuse me...
I have a stat counter. It is no secret, it's right at the bottom of my blog page. Do not get all paranoid now, I can't tell who actually visits me, I can only tell which countries and the "entry words" or "entry points"...also called "word activity".
So I amuse myself by reading what the recent word activities are and how people land on my blog. A few examples...
Some come through with the usual - Arab Woman Blues.
But most others come from queries like :
- arab woman fuck
- hot arab woman
- sexy arab women
- arab woman black man fuck
- arab woman, white man fuck
- older arab woman fuck
- sex, arab woman
and the wordings are funny...people need to learn how to spell before using the net
like,
fock instead of fuck
wemen instead of women
sixi instead of sexy...
Then I get a LOT of the following :
- rape, american, iraqi women
- american soldier fucking iraqi women
- american soldier paying iraqi women for fuck
- rape, arab women
- Iraqi women sucking...
Do you think the above entries would have existed without your occupation ? Of course not !!!
Then I get some other real weird ones like
- mother fucking son
- son fucking mother
- bottle in ass
- masturbating with bottle
- donkey fucking arab woman
Then I get the other stuff :
- do arab women bathe
- how to look like an arab woman
- what are the sexual practices of muslims
- how to pleasure an arab/muslim woman
- arab men why so deceptive
- what muslim men like in bed
I also get benign entries like :
- how to make tabouleh
- what is traditional Iraqi food
- recipe for hommos and falafel
Hahahahahahaha.
Seems my blog is a brothel, or some porn site for the perverts of this world, or an American torture dungeon or maybe a kitchen for some mega salad for Internet jerks...
I suppose this is the cross I need to bear...alternatively I must stop blogging altogether.
Come to think of it, I believe I need to look at these entries in a sociological fashion...as representing on a microcosmic level, a macrocosmic truth.
What do they indicate ?
They indicate the following :
- MOST people are not interested in Iraq or the Arab world.
- Those who are, are either looking for some exotic sex/romance, cooking recipe or some American occupation rape fucking from the "brave and free".
In other words that type of "curiosity" is clothed with the convenient cloak of "truth seeking"
- Or if they are females, they have just landed some Arab and/or Muslim guy and are looking for tips to be more like an Arab woman or some other secret to "keep him" - hoping they will find it on my blog...
The above are just simple headlines for something more pernicious...
It seems to me that the Internet biggest and sole activity is prompted by SEX, as in sexual quests, sexual curiosity, sexual satisfaction, sexual romance and even sexual politics or sexed up politics... all the above afforded by the anonymity that the net provides.
But more importantly, as an Arab Woman blogger, I can tell you for sure that the long outdated stereotypes, "orientalist" - short of a better word - of " Arab/Muslim woman" "Arab/Muslim sex", "Arab/Muslim practices" are far from Dead.
I suppose in the case of this blog, both Sigmund Freud and Edward Said were right. It really all boils down to "sex", death and representations...of the Other.
I have a stat counter. It is no secret, it's right at the bottom of my blog page. Do not get all paranoid now, I can't tell who actually visits me, I can only tell which countries and the "entry words" or "entry points"...also called "word activity".
So I amuse myself by reading what the recent word activities are and how people land on my blog. A few examples...
Some come through with the usual - Arab Woman Blues.
But most others come from queries like :
- arab woman fuck
- hot arab woman
- sexy arab women
- arab woman black man fuck
- arab woman, white man fuck
- older arab woman fuck
- sex, arab woman
and the wordings are funny...people need to learn how to spell before using the net
like,
fock instead of fuck
wemen instead of women
sixi instead of sexy...
Then I get a LOT of the following :
- rape, american, iraqi women
- american soldier fucking iraqi women
- american soldier paying iraqi women for fuck
- rape, arab women
- Iraqi women sucking...
Do you think the above entries would have existed without your occupation ? Of course not !!!
Then I get some other real weird ones like
- mother fucking son
- son fucking mother
- bottle in ass
- masturbating with bottle
- donkey fucking arab woman
Then I get the other stuff :
- do arab women bathe
- how to look like an arab woman
- what are the sexual practices of muslims
- how to pleasure an arab/muslim woman
- arab men why so deceptive
- what muslim men like in bed
I also get benign entries like :
- how to make tabouleh
- what is traditional Iraqi food
- recipe for hommos and falafel
Hahahahahahaha.
Seems my blog is a brothel, or some porn site for the perverts of this world, or an American torture dungeon or maybe a kitchen for some mega salad for Internet jerks...
I suppose this is the cross I need to bear...alternatively I must stop blogging altogether.
Come to think of it, I believe I need to look at these entries in a sociological fashion...as representing on a microcosmic level, a macrocosmic truth.
What do they indicate ?
They indicate the following :
- MOST people are not interested in Iraq or the Arab world.
- Those who are, are either looking for some exotic sex/romance, cooking recipe or some American occupation rape fucking from the "brave and free".
In other words that type of "curiosity" is clothed with the convenient cloak of "truth seeking"
- Or if they are females, they have just landed some Arab and/or Muslim guy and are looking for tips to be more like an Arab woman or some other secret to "keep him" - hoping they will find it on my blog...
The above are just simple headlines for something more pernicious...
It seems to me that the Internet biggest and sole activity is prompted by SEX, as in sexual quests, sexual curiosity, sexual satisfaction, sexual romance and even sexual politics or sexed up politics... all the above afforded by the anonymity that the net provides.
But more importantly, as an Arab Woman blogger, I can tell you for sure that the long outdated stereotypes, "orientalist" - short of a better word - of " Arab/Muslim woman" "Arab/Muslim sex", "Arab/Muslim practices" are far from Dead.
I suppose in the case of this blog, both Sigmund Freud and Edward Said were right. It really all boils down to "sex", death and representations...of the Other.
Saturday, 13 June 2009
A Surreal Evening...
What a day! What a bloody day !
Layla is in bad, bad shape...
I had a nasty fall earlier on this evening, like real nasty...my knee is bandaged, my wrist is bandaged, my elbow is bandaged, and am typing with 7 fingers, unable to move the remaining 3...
It all happened around 7 pm. I had just finished running some errands, the weather was stupendous, I was in a pedestrian area, full of terrace cafés. And I just love sitting in cafés doing nothing...I think they should award me a Phd in cafés "flâneries" (I don't know how you say flâner in English - the closest is being idle in a pleasurable fashion - and they say the one who is idle, is free)
I can literally spend hours, sipping my coffee, reading a book, writing in my notepad, watching people, silently talking to myself (am not that crazy to do it out loud, not yet anyways) and just being there...
The sun was setting gently, I had forgotten my sunglasses at home...and was a little blinded by the light.
I was savoring my iced coffee, to which I added cinnamon and vanilla powder, watching them dissolve with the ice cubes...
The pedestrian area was packed with people at this time of the evening. I read some, watched some, talked to myself some...and said to myself - why the rush girl, take your time and go home when you are ready... I did have an appointment at
10 pm. Was supposed to meet with Z. and his friends for drinks...but I had time, I was in no hurry to be anywhere else...
I noticed this fairly well built guy, very bald, like totally bald, standing not too far, talking to a friend of his. He looked like something in between Yul Brynner and Kojak, more like Yul Brynner than Kojak. Not bad looking actually. And I have nothing against bald guys. I actually find them quite sexy.
Anyways, this stranger's friend left and he just stood there, not too far from my table...he kept moving left and right, and I thought to myself -- okay this guy is hitting on you...but of course since I was blinded by the light, I could not even look in his direction without blinking and frankly I did not want to look ridiculous...vanity I suppose. Hey, am entitled to vanity too, you know.
But when this Yul look alike turned his back, his head was shining, like a polished mirror...Had I stood up, I could have caught a glimpse of my own reflection...honestly.
I thought to myself, I wonder why is it shining the way it does - did he put gel on his bald head, suntan lotion, olive oil, car oil - what the hell was that ???
I mean, it's not like he had to run his fingers through a mane of hair or anything like that.
After a while I gave up trying to figure out, why his baldy head was so shiny...I said to myself - Yalla, enough of your nonsense girl, you better get moving...
So I gathered my handbag that looks and feels like a suitcase, and 2 bags full of groceries, stood up, and was heading towards...when bang, one huge bang and I fell onto the asphalt...
Right underneath my nose were three hard steep stairs leading to the street below...
A dickhead of an Englishman had just passed by right as I made my first step, dragging along a 4 feet long trolley/luggage on wheels...I saw him but did not see the bloody suitcase, I was blinded by the light and my mind was still too busy figuring out why this guy's head was so shiny.
I tripped on his bloody luggage and fell right on my face, my nose and chin dangling right over the edge of the stairs...
The English dickhead did not even stop. I remember screaming in English - thank you sucker. I could not get up. The pain in my knee and wrist were/are obnoxious...
The weird thing is that the place was packed and no one moved a finger. I sat on the asphalt rubbing my knee, my knuckles bleeding, and in a daze...
Finally Mr.Bald Head walks towards me and says in English -- are you okay ?
What do you think ? I can't get up. Do you think am okay or not ?
And this piece of conversation was the most surreal of it all...This is what he textually said :
- you must have been absent minded... (I was still on the floor)
- actually I was blinded by the sunlight (did not want to tell him the UV rays from your head blinded me)
Up to this point, Mr Bald Head did not even offer to help me get up. I was still sitting on the shitty asphalt, gathering all the groceries and the stuff that fell out of my bags...
So where are you from ?
I could not fucking believe it.
What does it matter where am from, I just busted my knee and wrist, do you have a tissue, my knuckles are bleeding...
No sorry, so where are you from ? I am from Egypt.
No shit, I thought to myself...all I need right now is some bald Egyptian prick
He finally said (after about 10 mn) Can I help you ?
Thanks but no thanks.
Look after yourself, he said
Yeah right.
By the time I got home, limping like a duck, it was already 9.00 pm. I called Z. and apologized for not making it tonight. He was nice about it. He said :
I'll get you some soup
Soup ? I don't have the flu, I just fell. I can't bloody walk...
So what ! soup is food, is it not ? So I will get you some soup...
So Z. got me some lentil soup in this heat!
I gracefully accepted it, ate it and now feel on top of my swollen knee and wrist, a distended, bloated abdomen, about to explode...
Moral of the story ?
1) I was being punished by the politically correct Gods for venturing into Starbucks after a long absence.
2) be very grateful that my head did not hit the edge of the stairs.
3) should be less absent minded
4) never ever forget my sunglasses
5) watch out for English dickheads with trolley bags
6) never ever stare at a bald man's head, ever again, specially if he is from Egypt.
and last but not least,
7) lentil soup in the summer heat is still food...eat it and shut up.
My, all these pearls of wisdom from one surreal evening.
Okay enough for now.
I really am in pain (and I know some of you will rejoice at this bit of news and secretly say to themselves - serves her right - so in advance, I say to you -- fuck you)...and I still need to digest those lentils...
Yalla, nite nite.
Layla is in bad, bad shape...
I had a nasty fall earlier on this evening, like real nasty...my knee is bandaged, my wrist is bandaged, my elbow is bandaged, and am typing with 7 fingers, unable to move the remaining 3...
It all happened around 7 pm. I had just finished running some errands, the weather was stupendous, I was in a pedestrian area, full of terrace cafés. And I just love sitting in cafés doing nothing...I think they should award me a Phd in cafés "flâneries" (I don't know how you say flâner in English - the closest is being idle in a pleasurable fashion - and they say the one who is idle, is free)
I can literally spend hours, sipping my coffee, reading a book, writing in my notepad, watching people, silently talking to myself (am not that crazy to do it out loud, not yet anyways) and just being there...
The sun was setting gently, I had forgotten my sunglasses at home...and was a little blinded by the light.
I was savoring my iced coffee, to which I added cinnamon and vanilla powder, watching them dissolve with the ice cubes...
The pedestrian area was packed with people at this time of the evening. I read some, watched some, talked to myself some...and said to myself - why the rush girl, take your time and go home when you are ready... I did have an appointment at
10 pm. Was supposed to meet with Z. and his friends for drinks...but I had time, I was in no hurry to be anywhere else...
I noticed this fairly well built guy, very bald, like totally bald, standing not too far, talking to a friend of his. He looked like something in between Yul Brynner and Kojak, more like Yul Brynner than Kojak. Not bad looking actually. And I have nothing against bald guys. I actually find them quite sexy.
Anyways, this stranger's friend left and he just stood there, not too far from my table...he kept moving left and right, and I thought to myself -- okay this guy is hitting on you...but of course since I was blinded by the light, I could not even look in his direction without blinking and frankly I did not want to look ridiculous...vanity I suppose. Hey, am entitled to vanity too, you know.
But when this Yul look alike turned his back, his head was shining, like a polished mirror...Had I stood up, I could have caught a glimpse of my own reflection...honestly.
I thought to myself, I wonder why is it shining the way it does - did he put gel on his bald head, suntan lotion, olive oil, car oil - what the hell was that ???
I mean, it's not like he had to run his fingers through a mane of hair or anything like that.
After a while I gave up trying to figure out, why his baldy head was so shiny...I said to myself - Yalla, enough of your nonsense girl, you better get moving...
So I gathered my handbag that looks and feels like a suitcase, and 2 bags full of groceries, stood up, and was heading towards...when bang, one huge bang and I fell onto the asphalt...
Right underneath my nose were three hard steep stairs leading to the street below...
A dickhead of an Englishman had just passed by right as I made my first step, dragging along a 4 feet long trolley/luggage on wheels...I saw him but did not see the bloody suitcase, I was blinded by the light and my mind was still too busy figuring out why this guy's head was so shiny.
I tripped on his bloody luggage and fell right on my face, my nose and chin dangling right over the edge of the stairs...
The English dickhead did not even stop. I remember screaming in English - thank you sucker. I could not get up. The pain in my knee and wrist were/are obnoxious...
The weird thing is that the place was packed and no one moved a finger. I sat on the asphalt rubbing my knee, my knuckles bleeding, and in a daze...
Finally Mr.Bald Head walks towards me and says in English -- are you okay ?
What do you think ? I can't get up. Do you think am okay or not ?
And this piece of conversation was the most surreal of it all...This is what he textually said :
- you must have been absent minded... (I was still on the floor)
- actually I was blinded by the sunlight (did not want to tell him the UV rays from your head blinded me)
Up to this point, Mr Bald Head did not even offer to help me get up. I was still sitting on the shitty asphalt, gathering all the groceries and the stuff that fell out of my bags...
So where are you from ?
I could not fucking believe it.
What does it matter where am from, I just busted my knee and wrist, do you have a tissue, my knuckles are bleeding...
No sorry, so where are you from ? I am from Egypt.
No shit, I thought to myself...all I need right now is some bald Egyptian prick
He finally said (after about 10 mn) Can I help you ?
Thanks but no thanks.
Look after yourself, he said
Yeah right.
By the time I got home, limping like a duck, it was already 9.00 pm. I called Z. and apologized for not making it tonight. He was nice about it. He said :
I'll get you some soup
Soup ? I don't have the flu, I just fell. I can't bloody walk...
So what ! soup is food, is it not ? So I will get you some soup...
So Z. got me some lentil soup in this heat!
I gracefully accepted it, ate it and now feel on top of my swollen knee and wrist, a distended, bloated abdomen, about to explode...
Moral of the story ?
1) I was being punished by the politically correct Gods for venturing into Starbucks after a long absence.
2) be very grateful that my head did not hit the edge of the stairs.
3) should be less absent minded
4) never ever forget my sunglasses
5) watch out for English dickheads with trolley bags
6) never ever stare at a bald man's head, ever again, specially if he is from Egypt.
and last but not least,
7) lentil soup in the summer heat is still food...eat it and shut up.
My, all these pearls of wisdom from one surreal evening.
Okay enough for now.
I really am in pain (and I know some of you will rejoice at this bit of news and secretly say to themselves - serves her right - so in advance, I say to you -- fuck you)...and I still need to digest those lentils...
Yalla, nite nite.
Friday, 12 June 2009
Killing me Softly...
Stuck in a traffic jam, with all the car windows down, playing some of my favorites from Cuba - Buena Vista Social Club. The wonderful Omara Portuondo was blasting through...
The guy in the car next to me, smiled and said,
" Nice music, Buena Vista ?"
" Yep, you like ? "
" I love, this killing me softly..."
I wanted to reply - " be my guest " but unfortunately the traffic lights changed...
Men keep confirming what I have always known to be true.
The guy in the car next to me, smiled and said,
" Nice music, Buena Vista ?"
" Yep, you like ? "
" I love, this killing me softly..."
I wanted to reply - " be my guest " but unfortunately the traffic lights changed...
Men keep confirming what I have always known to be true.
On Qaddafi
I am not a fan of Qaddafi myself, the President of Libya, but I must admit that I find his eccentricities rather amusing and somewhat endearing...
I love the way he usually dresses with the traditional Libyan robe and I liked the way he looked with his pomp military outfit decorated with a zillion medals...next to plain, face lifted, mafiosi, Berlusconi.
Of course, one wonders how did Qaddafi earn all those medals to start with...but nevermind...I thought he looked very cool. I especially liked the picture of Omar Al-Mukhtar which he pinned on his chest...must have pissed, quite a few Italians, off...
I also saw a picture of him with a couple of Libyan female body guards instead of the usual hunks/male bodyguards with Ray Bans, who traditionally accompany all heads of states.
And I heard that he had a huge Arabic tent, set up for him, in the middle of some famous garden in Rome...
I like it. I definitely like it.
I love the way he usually dresses with the traditional Libyan robe and I liked the way he looked with his pomp military outfit decorated with a zillion medals...next to plain, face lifted, mafiosi, Berlusconi.
Of course, one wonders how did Qaddafi earn all those medals to start with...but nevermind...I thought he looked very cool. I especially liked the picture of Omar Al-Mukhtar which he pinned on his chest...must have pissed, quite a few Italians, off...
I also saw a picture of him with a couple of Libyan female body guards instead of the usual hunks/male bodyguards with Ray Bans, who traditionally accompany all heads of states.
And I heard that he had a huge Arabic tent, set up for him, in the middle of some famous garden in Rome...
I like it. I definitely like it.
Wednesday, 10 June 2009
Toning It Down...
A friend of mine who knows of my blog, wrote to me, saying that she was not at all amused by my last post on Ze Lebanon, and she concluded her mail, asking me to -- tone it down, okay habibtee !(darling or chérie)
Iraqis who communicate with me also ask me to tone it down. They say to me --our struggle is one, tone it down on the Shiites and Kurds, okay ya hababa ! (good girl)
Other Arabs also tell me to tone it down. They say -- you will have the mukhabarat (security) on your back - and don't forget our "kadiyeh" (cause) okay, ya shatra ! (smart one)
Iranians tell me to tone it down too, saying -- you are very bad vomaan (woman) for insulting our Ayatollahs. Or something to this effect...
Jews and Israelis ask me to tone it down saying -- you agh (are) an aghab (arab) teghoghist ! (terrorist) and the liberal artsy fartsy add - revisionist anti-Semite !
The Americans ask me to tone it down, saying -- ya know somethin' hon, you're just a hateful person, you're just jealous of us and what we stand for ! (when they're walking around like Rambos carrying their dicks and guns on their shoulders...raping and killing everyone in sight)
The English and other Westerners also ask me to tone it down, saying -- we did what we could, you can't possibly generalize that way, you are biased and this is most disappointing - we really expected better from you ! (you can include the anti-war clowns in this lot)
Tayyeb - okay what is left now ?
If I write about gays, then am homophobic. If I write critically about women, am a sexist. If I write critically about men then am a castrating bitch. If I have a jab at Asians, Africans or Martians... am a racist. If I have a nice go at Shiites, am a sectarian. If I criticize Muslims in general, then am "munhata - a fallen woman"...If I criticize Christians - am an oppressor of minorities...
Tayyeb - okay what is left then ?
If I write about Islam, a subject that interests me personally - I get castigated with -- who do you think you are, some religious Faqih ?! (a learned one)
If I talk about my hatred of housework -- am a bourgeois spoiled bitch.
If I allude to my personal life as an Arab Muslim woman, then am not only a bourgeois spoiled bitch, but a slut who imitates the occupier, with his foul language, because a good Arab Muslim woman will never unveil her personal stuff online and she must always watch her language...
If I forget all of the above and write fiction - am told my writing sucks and I should stick to the other blogs...
So what should I write about then ?
I will write about the weather and my day to day activities - some sort of an online diary. This the kind of stuff you find on many female blogs, not excluding Arab ones. And it will go something like this...
-- It's been a hot day today. I woke up at 8 am, peed, brushed my teeth, showered, grabbed a coffee, read some boring emails, went for an appointment, came back home, grabbed a sandwich, made a few calls, went out again...
But overall it's been such an exciting day.
The weather was nice and sunny, I even went for a swim in the afternoon, and by the way, I lost 10 grams since yesterday :-) :-)... I was a good girl, I avoided choco today...ooh, and the nicest thing about today was when I met this incredibly good looking guy, sooo charming, woooooow...we chatted and he took me on a tour, in his red convertible car...WOOOW...
We exchanged numbers and am so thrilled to meet him again, in a couple of days, for a posh dinner. I wonder what I should wear for the occasion. I have this really nice sexy dress :-) :-) or do you think I should wear something less eager ??? Do you think red nail polish is okay on a first date or should I go for French manicure ??? Thanks for giving me tips coz am getting sooooo anxious, my tummy is in knots :-( :-( and I need all the support I can get.
But am not too worried coz I can tell he's so gallant, and comes from a very decent background... And he didn't even try to kiss me or anything because he's soooo respectful and well behaved...yay!!! this is sooo cool...wish me luck guys!!!! :-) :-) :-) --
I toned it down...see I can do it.
That's the sort of stuff that is neutral and will win the approval of everyone around...except maybe for the sexually obsessed religious fanatics who will still find fault and say -- " Oh my God how could you go for a ride in his car and mention sexy dresses ??? You must be such a loose woman....no morals whatsoever. "
But I am toning it down, wallah, I promise...
And since it was such a wonderful, exciting day, and I toned it down, can I tune it up instead ? Please say yes, please...
Adapted from Monty Python.
Iraqis who communicate with me also ask me to tone it down. They say to me --our struggle is one, tone it down on the Shiites and Kurds, okay ya hababa ! (good girl)
Other Arabs also tell me to tone it down. They say -- you will have the mukhabarat (security) on your back - and don't forget our "kadiyeh" (cause) okay, ya shatra ! (smart one)
Iranians tell me to tone it down too, saying -- you are very bad vomaan (woman) for insulting our Ayatollahs. Or something to this effect...
Jews and Israelis ask me to tone it down saying -- you agh (are) an aghab (arab) teghoghist ! (terrorist) and the liberal artsy fartsy add - revisionist anti-Semite !
The Americans ask me to tone it down, saying -- ya know somethin' hon, you're just a hateful person, you're just jealous of us and what we stand for ! (when they're walking around like Rambos carrying their dicks and guns on their shoulders...raping and killing everyone in sight)
The English and other Westerners also ask me to tone it down, saying -- we did what we could, you can't possibly generalize that way, you are biased and this is most disappointing - we really expected better from you ! (you can include the anti-war clowns in this lot)
Tayyeb - okay what is left now ?
If I write about gays, then am homophobic. If I write critically about women, am a sexist. If I write critically about men then am a castrating bitch. If I have a jab at Asians, Africans or Martians... am a racist. If I have a nice go at Shiites, am a sectarian. If I criticize Muslims in general, then am "munhata - a fallen woman"...If I criticize Christians - am an oppressor of minorities...
Tayyeb - okay what is left then ?
If I write about Islam, a subject that interests me personally - I get castigated with -- who do you think you are, some religious Faqih ?! (a learned one)
If I talk about my hatred of housework -- am a bourgeois spoiled bitch.
If I allude to my personal life as an Arab Muslim woman, then am not only a bourgeois spoiled bitch, but a slut who imitates the occupier, with his foul language, because a good Arab Muslim woman will never unveil her personal stuff online and she must always watch her language...
If I forget all of the above and write fiction - am told my writing sucks and I should stick to the other blogs...
So what should I write about then ?
I will write about the weather and my day to day activities - some sort of an online diary. This the kind of stuff you find on many female blogs, not excluding Arab ones. And it will go something like this...
-- It's been a hot day today. I woke up at 8 am, peed, brushed my teeth, showered, grabbed a coffee, read some boring emails, went for an appointment, came back home, grabbed a sandwich, made a few calls, went out again...
But overall it's been such an exciting day.
The weather was nice and sunny, I even went for a swim in the afternoon, and by the way, I lost 10 grams since yesterday :-) :-)... I was a good girl, I avoided choco today...ooh, and the nicest thing about today was when I met this incredibly good looking guy, sooo charming, woooooow...we chatted and he took me on a tour, in his red convertible car...WOOOW...
We exchanged numbers and am so thrilled to meet him again, in a couple of days, for a posh dinner. I wonder what I should wear for the occasion. I have this really nice sexy dress :-) :-) or do you think I should wear something less eager ??? Do you think red nail polish is okay on a first date or should I go for French manicure ??? Thanks for giving me tips coz am getting sooooo anxious, my tummy is in knots :-( :-( and I need all the support I can get.
But am not too worried coz I can tell he's so gallant, and comes from a very decent background... And he didn't even try to kiss me or anything because he's soooo respectful and well behaved...yay!!! this is sooo cool...wish me luck guys!!!! :-) :-) :-) --
I toned it down...see I can do it.
That's the sort of stuff that is neutral and will win the approval of everyone around...except maybe for the sexually obsessed religious fanatics who will still find fault and say -- " Oh my God how could you go for a ride in his car and mention sexy dresses ??? You must be such a loose woman....no morals whatsoever. "
But I am toning it down, wallah, I promise...
And since it was such a wonderful, exciting day, and I toned it down, can I tune it up instead ? Please say yes, please...
Adapted from Monty Python.
Tuesday, 9 June 2009
Winner takes it All...
Is that true ?
Maybe if they've truly won. But what if they believe they've won, when they haven't ?
Things are never what they appear to be.
Remains one of my favorite Abba songs...so am posting it, for the "winners" and the "losers."
Maybe if they've truly won. But what if they believe they've won, when they haven't ?
Things are never what they appear to be.
Remains one of my favorite Abba songs...so am posting it, for the "winners" and the "losers."
Impressions from Ze Lebanon...
Was watching a couple of videos from Al-Jazeera English, called the Arab Street.
The 30.05.09 two parts series were devoted to Ze Lebanon. The information was a little outdated since it dealt mainly with the elections but not only...
It interviewed some Beirutis in the Hamra Street area. Young and old, AUB students and more "ordinary" people...
And there is something I cannot shake off every time I watch anything pertaining to Beirut - a very annoying, irritating feeling that lingers on well after the "show" is over.
And the cue lies in that word "the show". I find a big majority of the Lebanese as the most show off people I have ever encountered...It is really, really bad.
A social disease which I call Ze Lebanese "show".
I have travelled throughout the Arab world, and I'd say extensively so...never, ever have I come across a people who are so into appearances like the Lebanese. It is beyond annoying, it is simply sick.
You would think that only a certain class of people or a certain strata of society or a certain religious group or sect suffers from this typical Lebanese social disease. Well you got it wrong - ALL Lebanese suffer from it. The haves and the haves not.
It is deeply insidious in Ze Lebanon, it sometimes scares me...but most of the time I find it VERY offensive.
When you are sitting with a Lebanese, the first thing he/she will do is comment on your looks. Lebanese women do that all the time. And it goes like that.
Yay, you have lost sooo much weight, yalla give me your diet now, now !!!...or the opposite, ya Allah, tu as tellement grossi, c'est pas possible...shu hayda !!! (you've put on so much weight, what is this !!!)
It's okay if this is done between girlfriends, but these are women you've met professionally or on some other occasion, and you really have no relationship with them...but Ze Lebanese women always allow themselves to judge, constantly judge and criticize others...
With the men, the focus is on your watch, cell phone, car...The make, how much did it cost, is it hype, is it recent, is it expensive, is it up to date, is it in vogue....
And Lebanese men just like their women, always allow themselves to comment on your looks or find fault with you, even if you look fucking perfect.
And accordingly, both the men and the women will know where to fit you, in which category...are you an interesting prospect or not ? Because this is the bottom line with ze Lebanese - interests.
It is a society that primes the outside to the detriment of the inside and the result is truly disastrous and this, I noticed, regardless of any political affiliation.
The above is just one example of this constant harassement one is subjected to when in Ze Lebanon, but only non Lebanese Arabs feel it. The Lebanese are too subdued in front the Khawaja - the foreigner, the non Arab (in this instance the Westerner and/or the Iranian - depending on the political climate) whom they hold in great esteem. And again this is regardless of political or religious affiliation.
The Lebanese honestly believe they are the créme de la créme of the Arab world. All other Arabs are beneath them - ALL.
Only they have education, only they have taste, only they have beauty, only they have etiquette, only they have culture, only they are real entrepreneurs, only they are smart and intelligent, only they are sexy, only they are talented...
Everyone else - other Arabs, are either Bajam or Nawar. (cattle/animals or gypsies but meant as a slur here) because only Ze Lebanese are the civilized ones in the Arab world.
I have never ever met a people who suffer from as many inferiority complexes as the Lebanese. And they cover up these complexes by literally farting higher than their asses....It is not only most aggravating, it is actually sad.
When I watched the videos, I saw that all too clearly. There were a few men and women featuring in these series. All the women, with one or two exceptions have had plastic surgery done. Their noses looked identical, it was pathetic.
A couple of them were so deformed by the surgery, they looked like miss Piggy from the Muppet show. It was most sad. But even the men are not spared. They too have recourse to nose jobs, lipos, botox, face lifts, and the rest - except breasts and cheek implants...thankfully. Most sad again.
It's as if Ze Lebanese are collectively obsessed with erasing any traces of their semitic heritage and this is made most evident with their noses looking like bimbos from California.
And for the average lebanese, even if he or she is financially broke and without a job, el-moda (fashion) is most important, it is essential...
El-Moda includes everything - cars, clothes, accessories, cell phones, places one frequents, music one listens to, books one reads... - they have to have one thing that is al-moda - in fashion. They have to look it, own it...one way or the other.
And even though I personally have nothing against plastic surgery (within reasonable limits - if you are on a brink of suicide because of how you look, then plastic surgery is one option) and while I have nothing against nice cars and the rest of el-moda, in the case of Ze Lebanon is it truly overdone to the point of having become ridiculously pathetic.
And am afraid, ze impressions am left with from ze Lebanon are just that - a pathetic people in a pathetic country.
P.S : My Lebanese friends don't fit the bill. Otherwise, they wouldn't be my friends.
The 30.05.09 two parts series were devoted to Ze Lebanon. The information was a little outdated since it dealt mainly with the elections but not only...
It interviewed some Beirutis in the Hamra Street area. Young and old, AUB students and more "ordinary" people...
And there is something I cannot shake off every time I watch anything pertaining to Beirut - a very annoying, irritating feeling that lingers on well after the "show" is over.
And the cue lies in that word "the show". I find a big majority of the Lebanese as the most show off people I have ever encountered...It is really, really bad.
A social disease which I call Ze Lebanese "show".
I have travelled throughout the Arab world, and I'd say extensively so...never, ever have I come across a people who are so into appearances like the Lebanese. It is beyond annoying, it is simply sick.
You would think that only a certain class of people or a certain strata of society or a certain religious group or sect suffers from this typical Lebanese social disease. Well you got it wrong - ALL Lebanese suffer from it. The haves and the haves not.
It is deeply insidious in Ze Lebanon, it sometimes scares me...but most of the time I find it VERY offensive.
When you are sitting with a Lebanese, the first thing he/she will do is comment on your looks. Lebanese women do that all the time. And it goes like that.
Yay, you have lost sooo much weight, yalla give me your diet now, now !!!...or the opposite, ya Allah, tu as tellement grossi, c'est pas possible...shu hayda !!! (you've put on so much weight, what is this !!!)
It's okay if this is done between girlfriends, but these are women you've met professionally or on some other occasion, and you really have no relationship with them...but Ze Lebanese women always allow themselves to judge, constantly judge and criticize others...
With the men, the focus is on your watch, cell phone, car...The make, how much did it cost, is it hype, is it recent, is it expensive, is it up to date, is it in vogue....
And Lebanese men just like their women, always allow themselves to comment on your looks or find fault with you, even if you look fucking perfect.
And accordingly, both the men and the women will know where to fit you, in which category...are you an interesting prospect or not ? Because this is the bottom line with ze Lebanese - interests.
It is a society that primes the outside to the detriment of the inside and the result is truly disastrous and this, I noticed, regardless of any political affiliation.
The above is just one example of this constant harassement one is subjected to when in Ze Lebanon, but only non Lebanese Arabs feel it. The Lebanese are too subdued in front the Khawaja - the foreigner, the non Arab (in this instance the Westerner and/or the Iranian - depending on the political climate) whom they hold in great esteem. And again this is regardless of political or religious affiliation.
The Lebanese honestly believe they are the créme de la créme of the Arab world. All other Arabs are beneath them - ALL.
Only they have education, only they have taste, only they have beauty, only they have etiquette, only they have culture, only they are real entrepreneurs, only they are smart and intelligent, only they are sexy, only they are talented...
Everyone else - other Arabs, are either Bajam or Nawar. (cattle/animals or gypsies but meant as a slur here) because only Ze Lebanese are the civilized ones in the Arab world.
I have never ever met a people who suffer from as many inferiority complexes as the Lebanese. And they cover up these complexes by literally farting higher than their asses....It is not only most aggravating, it is actually sad.
When I watched the videos, I saw that all too clearly. There were a few men and women featuring in these series. All the women, with one or two exceptions have had plastic surgery done. Their noses looked identical, it was pathetic.
A couple of them were so deformed by the surgery, they looked like miss Piggy from the Muppet show. It was most sad. But even the men are not spared. They too have recourse to nose jobs, lipos, botox, face lifts, and the rest - except breasts and cheek implants...thankfully. Most sad again.
It's as if Ze Lebanese are collectively obsessed with erasing any traces of their semitic heritage and this is made most evident with their noses looking like bimbos from California.
And for the average lebanese, even if he or she is financially broke and without a job, el-moda (fashion) is most important, it is essential...
El-Moda includes everything - cars, clothes, accessories, cell phones, places one frequents, music one listens to, books one reads... - they have to have one thing that is al-moda - in fashion. They have to look it, own it...one way or the other.
And even though I personally have nothing against plastic surgery (within reasonable limits - if you are on a brink of suicide because of how you look, then plastic surgery is one option) and while I have nothing against nice cars and the rest of el-moda, in the case of Ze Lebanon is it truly overdone to the point of having become ridiculously pathetic.
And am afraid, ze impressions am left with from ze Lebanon are just that - a pathetic people in a pathetic country.
P.S : My Lebanese friends don't fit the bill. Otherwise, they wouldn't be my friends.
Sunday, 7 June 2009
A Different Perspective...
Someone I know in Real life as opposed to Virtual life, has as of late, been complaining about me.
Mind you he is not the only one who complains about me. A few others around me, complain about me...
They say am not "available" and they add -- "you are losing touch with reality - out there."
I don't take words and complaints at their face value anymore.
I am physically here, so I am available. And am not losing touch with reality out there, either. I am actually zooming in, on one corner of reality out there, a corner that most people care not to look at. Actually am zooming on a reality out there that most people are terribly silent about...
And even though I agree that "my corner" of reality is not the only reality out there, I have also learned from childhood that secrets are buried in corners...
It's a bit like dusting, really. Dirt usually gathers in corners and you cannot have a clean home if you don't go for the corners...
And corners don't make your whole home, but can you imagine a home without corners ?
It would simply cease to exist.
Mind you he is not the only one who complains about me. A few others around me, complain about me...
They say am not "available" and they add -- "you are losing touch with reality - out there."
I don't take words and complaints at their face value anymore.
I am physically here, so I am available. And am not losing touch with reality out there, either. I am actually zooming in, on one corner of reality out there, a corner that most people care not to look at. Actually am zooming on a reality out there that most people are terribly silent about...
And even though I agree that "my corner" of reality is not the only reality out there, I have also learned from childhood that secrets are buried in corners...
It's a bit like dusting, really. Dirt usually gathers in corners and you cannot have a clean home if you don't go for the corners...
And corners don't make your whole home, but can you imagine a home without corners ?
It would simply cease to exist.
Friday, 5 June 2009
Tapping into some Yin !
I have finally found out what my mission in Life is -- How to tap into Yin and not go crazy. Yep that's it.
Well, some of you know that I absolutely loathe, detest, abhor, hate, despise...housework.
Yet each day, I find myself doing what I hate most. It's like an Abu-Ghraibian (a new truism) prelude to me...the 1st act before the tragic occurs...
Each day, I find my elbows deep into soapy dish water and I curse the minutes...
Each day, I have to dust, I feel like tearing the whole upholstery apart...smashing the furniture, kicking the table, chairs, lamps...anything that reminds me that it needs to be dusted...
And the mopping, oh God, the mopping...how I detest you mops and buckets...
And the window cleaning, ahhh the window cleaning...how I want to smash you into tiny bits...
Oh, and the laundry, how can I forget the laundry...taking off the sheets, pillow cases, towels, carrying them to the machine, taking them out the friggin machine, hanging them to dry, not too dry otherwise the ironing becomes mission impossible.
And the ironing, what can I tell you about ironing except that it is torture itself...
Yes, this is how bad I react to housework. So when A.called me all chirpy on the phone, I wanted to slap her too.
- Hey, what's up, you sure sound in some bad mood.
- You bet, bad mood is an understatement, am doing the fucking housework...
- Take it easy ya Layla, look at it as character building.
- Surely there must be other ways to build character no ? Besides everyone complains that I have too much character, next ?
- Okay then, approach it with a Zen attitude...
Of course A. has just come out of her morning Yoga class.
- What friggin Zen, am going crazy here...
- Okay Layla, you know what the Yoga teacher taught us this morning ? She said use every moment of your day to tap into your Yin/Feminine energy - yielding, surrendering like water...
- Oh yeah ? Is that what she taught you today...well let her come and be yielding in this zoo if she can...
- No, Layla, you don't understand...look at this house work as a way of enhancing your Yin, your Femininity, diffuse your feminine energy all around the place and watch it bloom...
- What feminine energy A ?!! I am telling you am hysterical, this is the state of my feminine energy right now !!!...and surely there must also be, other ways of enhancing my Yin, no ? I cook, that's Yin enhancement, I plant, there's another one for you, I dance, I paint, I pray, I write...but sorry A, am very sorry, I have failed to develop a surrendering rapport with the frying pan, pots, brooms and mops, yet...tell your Yoga teacher that I have tried very hard, very, very hard...building my character and enhancing my Yin through chores that I absolutely detest, and nothing bloomed A, nothing...except callouses and blisters on my hands...got it ?
- Okay Layla, seems you are not very Zen this morning...try going for a walk, or reading a book, or something...put music on...
- A. you don't understand, I have kept procrastinating by precisely going out for walks, reading books and listening to music...and now I am immersed in dust...
- Layla, then just do it with a smile...do it with an open chest, with serenity...
- I can't do it with an open chest, am asthmatic to dust...by the way A. how is your house help doing these days ?
- Oh Layla, she's a gift sent from Heaven...a jewel, a precious angel...so what was I telling you...ah yes, do it with....
Well, some of you know that I absolutely loathe, detest, abhor, hate, despise...housework.
Yet each day, I find myself doing what I hate most. It's like an Abu-Ghraibian (a new truism) prelude to me...the 1st act before the tragic occurs...
Each day, I find my elbows deep into soapy dish water and I curse the minutes...
Each day, I have to dust, I feel like tearing the whole upholstery apart...smashing the furniture, kicking the table, chairs, lamps...anything that reminds me that it needs to be dusted...
And the mopping, oh God, the mopping...how I detest you mops and buckets...
And the window cleaning, ahhh the window cleaning...how I want to smash you into tiny bits...
Oh, and the laundry, how can I forget the laundry...taking off the sheets, pillow cases, towels, carrying them to the machine, taking them out the friggin machine, hanging them to dry, not too dry otherwise the ironing becomes mission impossible.
And the ironing, what can I tell you about ironing except that it is torture itself...
Yes, this is how bad I react to housework. So when A.called me all chirpy on the phone, I wanted to slap her too.
- Hey, what's up, you sure sound in some bad mood.
- You bet, bad mood is an understatement, am doing the fucking housework...
- Take it easy ya Layla, look at it as character building.
- Surely there must be other ways to build character no ? Besides everyone complains that I have too much character, next ?
- Okay then, approach it with a Zen attitude...
Of course A. has just come out of her morning Yoga class.
- What friggin Zen, am going crazy here...
- Okay Layla, you know what the Yoga teacher taught us this morning ? She said use every moment of your day to tap into your Yin/Feminine energy - yielding, surrendering like water...
- Oh yeah ? Is that what she taught you today...well let her come and be yielding in this zoo if she can...
- No, Layla, you don't understand...look at this house work as a way of enhancing your Yin, your Femininity, diffuse your feminine energy all around the place and watch it bloom...
- What feminine energy A ?!! I am telling you am hysterical, this is the state of my feminine energy right now !!!...and surely there must also be, other ways of enhancing my Yin, no ? I cook, that's Yin enhancement, I plant, there's another one for you, I dance, I paint, I pray, I write...but sorry A, am very sorry, I have failed to develop a surrendering rapport with the frying pan, pots, brooms and mops, yet...tell your Yoga teacher that I have tried very hard, very, very hard...building my character and enhancing my Yin through chores that I absolutely detest, and nothing bloomed A, nothing...except callouses and blisters on my hands...got it ?
- Okay Layla, seems you are not very Zen this morning...try going for a walk, or reading a book, or something...put music on...
- A. you don't understand, I have kept procrastinating by precisely going out for walks, reading books and listening to music...and now I am immersed in dust...
- Layla, then just do it with a smile...do it with an open chest, with serenity...
- I can't do it with an open chest, am asthmatic to dust...by the way A. how is your house help doing these days ?
- Oh Layla, she's a gift sent from Heaven...a jewel, a precious angel...so what was I telling you...ah yes, do it with....
Thursday, 4 June 2009
3 Types of Attractions.
According to a female friend of mine whom I greatly respect for her wisdom, intuition and experience, there are three types of man/woman attractions.
First type : a sexual attraction that culminates in a relationship which is mainly triggered by sexual desire, lust, chemistry, infatuation, call it what you like...
Second type : an energy attraction. In this kind of relationship the other is attracted to your energy, may project on it and may eventually feed of it like some parasite, but does not see you as a person.
Third Type : an attraction based on the whole of you, and that of course is the ideal, as it combines all three types.
I am not much into classifications myself, but this time I will make an exception and accept my friend's typology for Truth as I find it to ring a few bells...maybe more than a few.
First type : a sexual attraction that culminates in a relationship which is mainly triggered by sexual desire, lust, chemistry, infatuation, call it what you like...
Second type : an energy attraction. In this kind of relationship the other is attracted to your energy, may project on it and may eventually feed of it like some parasite, but does not see you as a person.
Third Type : an attraction based on the whole of you, and that of course is the ideal, as it combines all three types.
I am not much into classifications myself, but this time I will make an exception and accept my friend's typology for Truth as I find it to ring a few bells...maybe more than a few.
Tuesday, 2 June 2009
Means & End...
This is my 4th post for tonight...who the fuck cares !!!? As the Iraqi proverb says it too well - "the one who is bent on getting drunk, does not count the glasses."
Oh well, I guess I must be drunk with my keyboard and the letters of the Alphabet tonight...who the fuck cares !!!?
This is my little garden, my private territory, my space, my little cyber home, my corner of one side of my own Truth, my little patch of megabytes, this is me...this is part of me and this is part of who I am...Not all of me, because I am not my blog, but just one side of me...And the one who wants to get drunk, does not count the number of posts either...
Means & Ends.
Do the means justify the End ? Does the End justify the means ?
For me this is a very important and complex ethical question.
I am not too sure...Sometimes they do and at other times they don't...
Sometimes they are absolutely necessary and sometimes totally -- counter productive and anti-ethical.
Think about it deeply yourselves. That's not an easy one to crack.
I guess, bottom line, it all really depends where your ultimate loyalties lie.
Hell, I did warn you, it's not an easy one to crack...
Oh well, I guess I must be drunk with my keyboard and the letters of the Alphabet tonight...who the fuck cares !!!?
This is my little garden, my private territory, my space, my little cyber home, my corner of one side of my own Truth, my little patch of megabytes, this is me...this is part of me and this is part of who I am...Not all of me, because I am not my blog, but just one side of me...And the one who wants to get drunk, does not count the number of posts either...
Means & Ends.
Do the means justify the End ? Does the End justify the means ?
For me this is a very important and complex ethical question.
I am not too sure...Sometimes they do and at other times they don't...
Sometimes they are absolutely necessary and sometimes totally -- counter productive and anti-ethical.
Think about it deeply yourselves. That's not an easy one to crack.
I guess, bottom line, it all really depends where your ultimate loyalties lie.
Hell, I did warn you, it's not an easy one to crack...
Monday, 1 June 2009
Warped & Twisted...
Sorry to be so blunt, but there is something fundamentally wrong, warped and twisted in Men, OVERALL, generally speaking, and in particular Eastern Men.
I don't know what the fuck it is. Maybe a combination of being spoiled rotten by mama for being the little dick that he is, plus a deformed understanding of religion, plus a culture that does not hold men accountable and responsible for their acts, plus personal psychological baggage and deep complexes, plus God knows what else...
All I can tell you is that the end result of this explosive combination is LETHAL to women's sanity - at least it is to mine.
Of course, I know women can be as fucked up and terrible manipulative bitches too, but frankly men fare much worse on that front...
I have been kind of reviewing all the men I have met in my life time, in all walks of life - professionally, socially, intimately, etc...and there is one thing that keeps sticking out like a sore thumb -- the male ego is a disaster producing entity.
Now we all need egos to function in society. I have nothing against the ego per se, and there are a few "healthy, balanced" egos around but trust me the unhealthy, unbalanced ones are way more numerous...
And in Eastern men, that's what you get...really. I am not trying to be unkind here, just giving a "spiritual" kick in the ass because it's about time these men wake up.
From personal experience, from listening to women's stories, from observation, from reading, from seeing with my own two eyes...I am aghast, honestly aghast at the amount of bullshit men can come up with and the amount of grotesque acts and behavior men are capable of...
It's as if these guys know nothing about Verticality, it's as if they have lived their whole fucking lives in some mental cave, and in a horizontal position.
The lack of self awareness, the lack of self introspection, the lack of self honesty, the lack of genuine principles (as opposed to paying lip service)...this lack is frightening and appalling indeed...and you think to yourself -- have I gone mad with lucidity and is there a way out ?
I see emotional cripples, emotional handicaps walking around, puffing themselves up for nothing...really nothing except "I am a MAN". Yeah you are, so fucking what ?!
They allow themselves the most crass behaviors and acts - from stealing, to lying, to cheating, to betraying, to manipulating, to fabricating, to conning, to abusing, to battering, to insulting, to humiliating, to...and you can add your own...but God forbid anyone touches that little ego of theirs. After all they are the "men."
And the women who surround them are idiots, true idiots, because they know the truth and they just shut up about it. They masquerade their chronic miserable lives under the titles of "loving, tolerant, patient, enduring, sacrificing..." and whatever other bullshit they can justify it with...thus enabling those assholes -- because men like that are assholes, to continue doing what they do...
This is really beyond me. I don't understand it, I don't accept it and I can't put up with it either...nor should you.
And some of these idiotic women, would come and tell you in their mousy voices that you need to "love unconditionally and be forgiving"or " what can we do, God created them that way " -- or some other crap concept they read in some equally crap self help book or heard on their local religious station...And they continue being martyrs of "love" and of screwed up, toxic, miserable relationships...
What unconditional love and what forgiveness ? What is this nonsense ?
You love unconditionally only in TRUTH and you forgive when the person changes...but one does not love unconditionally -- liars, deceivers, cheaters, abusers, batterers and the rest of the psychotic psychopathic bunch. Things in life just don't work that way.
We are talking about men and women here, about adults seeing eye to eye, not about some Mother Teresa icon figure nor some super mythical Mama to whom he will run to and say "sorry mama, please forgive me" and run back out and repeat his shit all over again...because this is exactly what they do.
He wants unconditional love ? Sure, let him go to God, some Saint or the Sisters of Mother Teresa in some convent and be mentally and spiritually rehabilitated, atoned, and redeemed there.
Another line women often fall for is "if you accept me as I am" (me being a liar, cheater, deceiver, abuser, batterer - chose what fits you best), "then I will change into the stable, responsible, blah blah blah, man..."
More bullshit and more bullshit. If I can accept you as you are, then am in the wrong vocation dear, I must go and join the Sisters of Mother Teresa myself.
Of course, no one is perfect, and no relationship is perfect, but for God's sake stop deluding yourselves with nonsense ideas that things will change if you love unconditionally and/or accept the unacceptable...
This is good material for conversations when you are stoned or high on some shit or during your meditation classes with your Swami or your favorite Guru, but this does NOT work for relationships where the male ego is fundamentally warped and twisted...
It does not work. Simple.
But what bugs me even more is the following. Those same creeps parading as men, and there are plenty of them around, expect you to have NO ego. In their warped, twisted, screwed up minds women don't have egos. Women are there to ENDURE them...
If you only knew how many men told me - "you know Layla, men are bastards", they would add "I am one too" because they either lied again, cheated again, wronged again, whatever...and they would say it with Pride, like some trophy thing they were capable of getting away with, again, one more time...
And they secretly expect the woman (thank God, I am not one of them nor would I be, ever !) to say to them -- " I understand darling, and I love you just the way you are...you are still the most wonderful man on earth..." or some other crap along these lines...
And he also expects from the woman he wronged to remain -- faithful, loving, loyal, tender, caring, understanding...and more blah blah blah...you know why ? Because in his eyes she has NO SENSE OF SELF or is NOT SUPPOSED TO HAVE ONE. And he will keep on trashing her that way until she finally ends up in some mental hospital ward, living on anti-depressants...or somatize his toxicity into some incurable illness.
And if she is not "modern" enough to seek psychiatric care, then she will run to the local sheikh and ask for someone to exorcise her from whatever jinn "possessed" her and the local sheikh will give her more shit about how she should be a good, enduring, sacrificing, woman...
Don't laugh, because this is EXACTLY what happens...but everything is swept under the carpet, and facades are kept intact, well polished...
However you see more and more court cases with staggering number of divorces in this part of the world...but no one ever addresses the real crucial issue, behind it all...no one...
That of a screwed up, warped, twisted, male ego incapable of questioning and re-evaluating itself.
Painting: Iraqi artist, Dia Al-Azzawi, 1995.
I don't know what the fuck it is. Maybe a combination of being spoiled rotten by mama for being the little dick that he is, plus a deformed understanding of religion, plus a culture that does not hold men accountable and responsible for their acts, plus personal psychological baggage and deep complexes, plus God knows what else...
All I can tell you is that the end result of this explosive combination is LETHAL to women's sanity - at least it is to mine.
Of course, I know women can be as fucked up and terrible manipulative bitches too, but frankly men fare much worse on that front...
I have been kind of reviewing all the men I have met in my life time, in all walks of life - professionally, socially, intimately, etc...and there is one thing that keeps sticking out like a sore thumb -- the male ego is a disaster producing entity.
Now we all need egos to function in society. I have nothing against the ego per se, and there are a few "healthy, balanced" egos around but trust me the unhealthy, unbalanced ones are way more numerous...
And in Eastern men, that's what you get...really. I am not trying to be unkind here, just giving a "spiritual" kick in the ass because it's about time these men wake up.
From personal experience, from listening to women's stories, from observation, from reading, from seeing with my own two eyes...I am aghast, honestly aghast at the amount of bullshit men can come up with and the amount of grotesque acts and behavior men are capable of...
It's as if these guys know nothing about Verticality, it's as if they have lived their whole fucking lives in some mental cave, and in a horizontal position.
The lack of self awareness, the lack of self introspection, the lack of self honesty, the lack of genuine principles (as opposed to paying lip service)...this lack is frightening and appalling indeed...and you think to yourself -- have I gone mad with lucidity and is there a way out ?
I see emotional cripples, emotional handicaps walking around, puffing themselves up for nothing...really nothing except "I am a MAN". Yeah you are, so fucking what ?!
They allow themselves the most crass behaviors and acts - from stealing, to lying, to cheating, to betraying, to manipulating, to fabricating, to conning, to abusing, to battering, to insulting, to humiliating, to...and you can add your own...but God forbid anyone touches that little ego of theirs. After all they are the "men."
And the women who surround them are idiots, true idiots, because they know the truth and they just shut up about it. They masquerade their chronic miserable lives under the titles of "loving, tolerant, patient, enduring, sacrificing..." and whatever other bullshit they can justify it with...thus enabling those assholes -- because men like that are assholes, to continue doing what they do...
This is really beyond me. I don't understand it, I don't accept it and I can't put up with it either...nor should you.
And some of these idiotic women, would come and tell you in their mousy voices that you need to "love unconditionally and be forgiving"or " what can we do, God created them that way " -- or some other crap concept they read in some equally crap self help book or heard on their local religious station...And they continue being martyrs of "love" and of screwed up, toxic, miserable relationships...
What unconditional love and what forgiveness ? What is this nonsense ?
You love unconditionally only in TRUTH and you forgive when the person changes...but one does not love unconditionally -- liars, deceivers, cheaters, abusers, batterers and the rest of the psychotic psychopathic bunch. Things in life just don't work that way.
We are talking about men and women here, about adults seeing eye to eye, not about some Mother Teresa icon figure nor some super mythical Mama to whom he will run to and say "sorry mama, please forgive me" and run back out and repeat his shit all over again...because this is exactly what they do.
He wants unconditional love ? Sure, let him go to God, some Saint or the Sisters of Mother Teresa in some convent and be mentally and spiritually rehabilitated, atoned, and redeemed there.
Another line women often fall for is "if you accept me as I am" (me being a liar, cheater, deceiver, abuser, batterer - chose what fits you best), "then I will change into the stable, responsible, blah blah blah, man..."
More bullshit and more bullshit. If I can accept you as you are, then am in the wrong vocation dear, I must go and join the Sisters of Mother Teresa myself.
Of course, no one is perfect, and no relationship is perfect, but for God's sake stop deluding yourselves with nonsense ideas that things will change if you love unconditionally and/or accept the unacceptable...
This is good material for conversations when you are stoned or high on some shit or during your meditation classes with your Swami or your favorite Guru, but this does NOT work for relationships where the male ego is fundamentally warped and twisted...
It does not work. Simple.
But what bugs me even more is the following. Those same creeps parading as men, and there are plenty of them around, expect you to have NO ego. In their warped, twisted, screwed up minds women don't have egos. Women are there to ENDURE them...
If you only knew how many men told me - "you know Layla, men are bastards", they would add "I am one too" because they either lied again, cheated again, wronged again, whatever...and they would say it with Pride, like some trophy thing they were capable of getting away with, again, one more time...
And they secretly expect the woman (thank God, I am not one of them nor would I be, ever !) to say to them -- " I understand darling, and I love you just the way you are...you are still the most wonderful man on earth..." or some other crap along these lines...
And he also expects from the woman he wronged to remain -- faithful, loving, loyal, tender, caring, understanding...and more blah blah blah...you know why ? Because in his eyes she has NO SENSE OF SELF or is NOT SUPPOSED TO HAVE ONE. And he will keep on trashing her that way until she finally ends up in some mental hospital ward, living on anti-depressants...or somatize his toxicity into some incurable illness.
And if she is not "modern" enough to seek psychiatric care, then she will run to the local sheikh and ask for someone to exorcise her from whatever jinn "possessed" her and the local sheikh will give her more shit about how she should be a good, enduring, sacrificing, woman...
Don't laugh, because this is EXACTLY what happens...but everything is swept under the carpet, and facades are kept intact, well polished...
However you see more and more court cases with staggering number of divorces in this part of the world...but no one ever addresses the real crucial issue, behind it all...no one...
That of a screwed up, warped, twisted, male ego incapable of questioning and re-evaluating itself.
Painting: Iraqi artist, Dia Al-Azzawi, 1995.
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