Saturday De-Junking

I woke up early this morning with the instant realization that today was mine. My apartment was a mess, my car needed to be picked up from the garage, my laptop needed to be personalized, my dishes needed to be saved from walking down the steps all by themselves, my hair needed to be dyed to cover the fiasco that is the golden summer streaks in November, my nails needed to be filed, i had a million things to do that would inevitably contribute to getting my life together. Yes, i know its sounds silly, but a clean house, a fixed car and freshly dyed hair can equal a fresh start, yes, believe me, it can.
I have accomplished all of the above, except the dye which is in my hair as i blog, the nails, and attacking the new laptop, it's only 6:30 pm, not bad, not bad at all.
While organizing my wardrobe i decided to put aside all the clothes i do not wear to give away, all you have to do in antibes is put a bag on the street and someone will find it in two minutes flat. Then i decided to throw in all the make up i do not use, and all the perfumes i do not use (ok, perfume), and all the kitchen utensils i do not use. I have decided that i want no more clutter, in my wardrobe, in my apartment, in my head, i want no more clutter in my life.

The dye is dripping down my neck and even though it is semi-permanent i still don't want auburn skin, so i will have to end this post. To everyone out there with a bit of a jumbled head, i invite you to de-junk your personal space, it will make you feel less crowded and its a bit of charity on the side.

Have a great day.

Something's Gotta Give...

Do you believe in signs?
I do....
Do you think that whenever there is a beginning there must be an end?
I don't want to, but I am forced to accept this.
However... when our lives take the form of many consecutive stories, many simultaneous over lapping phases... are we then to be rendered exciting and making the most of our live, or unstable people?
My life is a series of phases, if I were to sit down with a paper and a pen, I would map out 26 years broken down over tens of phases, each phase hardly lasts more than two - three years. There are constants of course, childhood friends and some picked up along the way, family, studies, but not much more, not much more at all....

From how I look, to how I feel, to what I believe in, to who I am, every phase presents new experiences, harder choices and new lessons, with that said the hardest lesson that I am yet to learn is the passing from one phase to the other, the ending of eras, letting go.

Though all the pain in my life comes from endings, and withdrawal symptoms of letting go, letting go of places, friends, jobs, regrets, bad memories, lovers.... Though more and more I detach myself from everything around me but myself, though I have learnt to feel much less to things I know could go, I am yet to learn that lesson as I should.

I don't want to be any more detached than this, any tougher than this, with any more control over my emotions than this, yet in this moment of utter breakdown I find myself turning to God and asking him to make me numb. I just don't want to feel the consequences affecting me from other things, other people, other lives...

I am grateful to all I have learnt living in France for all this time, but I know that I was not meant to stay here for longer than this, to save my happiness and my sense of identity I need to leave this place. I think it's time to go home.

Managing Upwards

Today I blog to stop my face from falling right into the keyboard. I am at the office, I have my own office, I have no music on as this is a borrowed laptop, I have my fourth cup of coffee sitting next to my laptop smiling at it's victory over my nicotine addiction, and I am half asleep.
The reason I am half asleep is not that I have not had enough sleep, the reason I am half asleep is because I am bored out of my wits. Yesterday I sent Boss #1 (the one that hired me and sent me here yet doesn't manage me really) an email, that email basically entailed that as now monster man (Boss #2 who doesn't want me to work here as I uncover his corruptions and is forced to manage me and does so by answering my questions with bare minimum input) has finally suggested that I sell directly from our Cairo office to be able to price more competitively, I expect to have a functional job. The email stated that he is now to make a decision regarding me, if he is to extend my contract he is to know that he will be expected to invest in me as an employee who does international sales and properly pay my compensation as agreed upon two years ago on time and covering all aspects agreed on. The email stated that if he feels this to not be a worthy investment to refrain from extending my contract end of year, and let me know now.
Since then I have been on strike till I receive a response, (on strike being working as usual with daily tasks of ongoing sales and quotations and preparing reports required by monster man who is currently in the office).
Note: monster man is only in the office for two weeks every ten
On strike means zero initiation. So as I am awaiting the same piece of missing information that has been missing since last week to launch my market report, and since I have sent out all the samples for the day, and since I have replied to all my emails and sent out all my quotations, I am now falling asleep, as my strike prevents me from reading my "sales for dummies" book, my "Marketing Management" book, and the first issue to arrive from the key magazine of the industry. I have no budget to plan business trips, well I never do, but I wont fight for a budget for a business trip. I will do nil till I have a response on that email. Nil.
But I am seriously falling asleep at my desk.... more coffee?

Reassurance of the Self

You say you fear the staleness of sameness
yet you resist the storms of change
you believe so much in all that is freedom
so how can it disturb you so
when free things go?
you say you know the path is happy
if we want happy, if we want right
you say you know that destinations
are only a changeable far away light
now I implore you to reach within you
and find the girl who chose all that
and tell her that this hour of torment
is a small price to pay
to be her today

Confession

Maybe it needs to be said out loud, I think it's getting to be a tad too much for me, I don't think I'm doing very well. I am sleeping too much, or I want to anyway, the urge to sleep is always there. I can't read. I am lazy, much lazier than usual, and if I am not seeing T, I find it a considerable effort to leave the house. I do of course, as it will be the end of me if I allow myself to only leave the house to see T. And when I do leave I enjoy myself, some of the time, but the symptoms are with me.... I'm pensive, I'm restless in that deadly quiet way, I am reproachful with myself for being down. One of the problems of being aware that everything you do is up to you, and most bad feelings are consequences of your own behavior and choices, is that you find it very difficult to allow yourself to be upset or down, complaining is not even on the table. You are so aware that you can and should fix yourself, that this constant strain in your shoulders from being hard on yourself doesn't let up.
So back to my day off from that, I am not coping as I would like to, at all.
I am currently writing an email to my boss, that could be the end of France for me, I am currently saying goodbye to the only man I have let within an arm's length from me in two years (which is where he stays). I have pushed away people again, I have been considerably ill, I have lost much of my faith in my religion (please don't try saving me in your comments), the familiar is also the suffocating, the refuge is cold, the dreams are jumbled, it's time to make a move, but where to? Where to? Towards goals and aims that are now jaded. Between people who are so much more messed up, heaven help me if I am to burden them with my traumas that are all self inflicted.

You see the problem is that I know I have it better than most, but that doesn't stop me from wanting it all, you see the other problem is that I know I can get it all, just not tonight, or these series of nights...

To the Man

My "Daddy" is leaving Paris, I always spend my time with him in Paris...

The man is going home... I envy him, a little..... and going to Paris and not finding him will be a bummer....

Here's to the man, who made me start blogging; France is gonna miss ya.

P.S: Don't start bitching about worlds colliding! You hear??! :)

Tagged

Tagged by Kareem, but according to him "only if I'm into tags", not especially Kareem, but am not one to be a spoil sport....

So here goes:

1) Are you happy/satisfied with your blog with it's content and look?

The look I liked for a while, and now I am bored with it, however I don't like any other template enough to replace it, and I can't be bothered to go looking for one I like and figure out how to change it. The content is what I feel like putting out there, it's an outlet really, I don't look at it that way...

2) Does your family know about your blog?

Nope

3) Do you feel embarrassed to let your friends know about your blog or you just consider it as a private thing?

Hardly, but sometimes my posts include them and I wouldn't want to upset them, I also enjoy the feeling of not having someone's opinion at the back of my mind while I write, it makes it less self conscious, so I guess I opt for it's something private.

4) Did blogs cause positive changes in your thoughts?

An outlet, which makes me feel unburdened, so yes.

5) Do you only open the blogs of those who comment on your blog or you love to go and discover more by yourself?

No, I go searching for them, I hop from blog to blog through links people make.

7) Did you try to imagine your fellow bloggers and give them real pictures?

Pictures? A little bit, but more of character traits. I already know maxxed out, but imagining him would've been fun :) Freudian is intelligent, hip and a bit in her own head, Herlock makes sure he stays in shape and on top of things, and is a lot nicer and softer than he lets on, Carmen has a very charming feel about her, yet the woman has much substance, Sand-e is analytical and quite developed as a person, La Gitana is a free spirit creating all over the place, Will is the male version of me :), Lou lou is a sweet heart, conservative yet open minded, Alluring is very sure of herself, Tainted is venting but she has a heart of gold... you get the idea

8) Admit. Do you think there is a real benefit for blogging?

Same benefits as any hobby, outlet, pastime, entertainment...

9) Do you think that bloggers society is isolated from real world or interacts with events?

Thats like asking if I think all engineers are geeks... I'm sure your average blogger has a life, and I'm sure there are tons of people who fixate on blogging and lose touch, it depends on the character.

10) Does criticism annoy you or do you feel it's a normal thing?

Criticism doesn't sit well with me, it feels like interference, but I'm learning to take it easier. Judgment on the other hand is absolutely unwelcome, criticize constructively or stay away from my blog.

11) Do you fear of some political blogs and avoid them?

No, most of them just bore me...

12) Did you get shocked by the arrest of some bloggers?

I didn't really follow that, that was before I started blogging, were they actually arrested for just blogging?

13) Did you think about what will happen to your blog after you die?

That is the least of my concerns.

14) What do you like to hear? What's the song you like to put its link in your blog?

I wouldn't, no one song could capture all these moods.

15) Five bloggers to be the next "victims"?

Lets see, who hasn't been tagged... Freudian (if she bothers), Will (if he has the time), maxxed out wont so I'll skip him to begin with, Mechanical Crowds, Tainted, Loulou, La Gitana and Carmen (if they drop by here to find out). I think we should get a response from 3-5 of those.

Everyone's Story

There was a little girl, with a braid, and a smile
she had a little place in everyone's heart
she had a skip in her step
she had mashed potato marks on her dress
she had sunshine in her smile
and she put the sunshine into people's smile
There was this little girl and she sometimes went quiet
almost as if remembering the time when she was old
and in her eyes you'd see, the wisdom and fatigue
from all the years she'd spent getting from here to there
this little girl sang as she played in the sand
as she built castles and watched them get washed down by waves
she never cried and she never frowned
her soul just accepted the loss of her hours worth of work
Her parents they worried, she was almost unreal
she was too dreamy for this life, and too soft for this world
they didn't see the strength in how simply she glided
through hardship and disappointment
through long days and dark nights
And after they left her, and she lived as she had to
after the little girl became a person with a story to tell
after the little girl inevitably became the woman
she came back to her haven of sand castles and waves
she had with her nothing, but a sunny little girl
a little girl with a braid, a skip and a smile
and a happy stained dress
They sat together in the wind, and played in the sun
one remembering a time when she was young and peaceful
and one conjuring up a time when her soul was old
Who is the stronger? Who is the older? Who is the wiser?
In mind and in heart
One mother, one daughter
One woman, one girl
a life time ahead, or a life time behind?
Like mother like daughter, they flung their braids behind their backs
found pleasure in having each other
and started building from scratch.

Random Crap

On Bingeing:
Someone ought to explain to me why women eat more when they are stressed, or is this the lack of nicotine? I feel like I'm on an eating marathon, and I hate the feeling of being full so I am in discomfort most of the day, it is a compulsion like no other, it feels much worse than smoking too much, or drinking too much, this feeling is intolerable.
On Taxes:
So let me get this straight, I pay 19% tax when I eat or shop or use my phone, I pay tax on the rent that I pay, and then I pay a month and a half's salary as income tax? Let me explain; I am Egyptian, where I come from they tax you 5% when you breathe and 10% (if they dare) per month, we know it is pocketed, we have no expectations, we don't expect to see that money again, so someone sit me down and explain to me where all this money of mine goes, as if I understand correctly the company already pays the equivalent of my salary to cover social security and cover 70% of medical care.
On Spending:
What is this obsessive compulsive disorder? I have close to nothing for the next ten days and yet I cannot not stop by the super market and pick up items that are nearly finishing, lest I have to use another plastic bag instead of the ones I use for garbage, lest I - heaven forbid - finish my shampoo bottle when another is not sitting right next to it. What if someone comes over who wants juice? People need the juice! I am irritated with my irrationality beyond explanation.
On Work:
I do my job, well, in under three hours a day. Don't get me wrong, there are business trips that have me working 18 hours a day, and conferences that have me working more, but for the most, in my everyday, 3-4 hrs max, and that is me being generous. Now where is the problem? I am not that good, I am severely underloaded, how do you overload someone doing overseas sales? Suggestions? Anyone?
On Sports:
I played squash on Sunday, the first time since I got back from Cairo, that would be the first time in 8 weeks. Every muscle in my body aches, my lower back, my middle back, my neck, my arms, my ass! Yes, even those muscles hurt, damn cutting the regular schedule of Squash.
On Blogging:
A lot of my blog roll bloggers have been inactive lately, most of them actually, making me blog more to fill the time left on my hands with no blog material to read, that is quite sad, so I will stop blogging now and go read a book.

I Knew It!

You Belong in Barcelona

When it comes to Europe, you don't want to decide between culture and fun. You want art by day and a big party by night. Barcelona is ideal for you. You can check out some Picasso, eat some tapas, take a siesta, and then dance all night!

What European City Do You Belong In?

The New Seven Wonders

They're thinking of taking out the pyramids, and they're choosing all over again, Vote for the New Seven Wonders, and as they say, make history...

Who is Responsible?

If you start to expect things that i do not want to give you
If you feel that i feel more than i do
If our paces are different, if our criteria is different, if our idea of one's personal right is different
If i don't want to stay
If i change my mind
If i stop feeling
If i walk away

Who is responsible? Me for being true to me? Or you for wanting more?

Order, ORDER

Alrighty, had enough with chaotic negative every day's now, I am enforcing some order in my life, I am going to take charge!

I picked up Y from the airport yesterday night, he was in Paris for work and dropped by for the weekend, perfect timing, it really is. I picked him up, as his luck would have it we have our first bout of thunder storms this weekend, but we didn't care.. I took him into town, and we hit the coziest frenchiest restaurant there was in the old town down an ambiguous alley... mussels, anti-pasti, entrecote, wine, the whole deal, and hours of him relaying everyone's news, this wedding, that break up, his travel and work, my travel and work, etc.. Went back home, we had a brief episode with the sofa-bed, managed to maneuver it into sleeping position, had tea on my terrace, he offered me a job in the petroleum field, I cockily turned it down, and I bid him good night as he started watching series 8 of friends (I have the whole 10 series, and I am not ashamed).
Poor E was informed very casually that Y is spending the weekend at my place, so casually that he found no room for possible objection, god I'm really good sometimes! The poor guy however was texting me at 1am, "how are you? Having fun? Erghy ma3aya kedda". I could see him seething through the messages, trying to distract me from jumping into bed with Y out of incontrollable lust, men can be hilarious, they really can be...

I woke up smiling, calm, serene, I look forward to a weekend of taking care of a good friend, Sunday morning he leaves, and then I will have to prepare myself for Monster man's arrival. Monster man is Boss #2 (to be introduced in another post).

Back to enforcing order, the 28th is the day that I will again have money in the bank, accordingly the following to do list will be finally done after months of doing nothing but enjoying the summer:

1. Pay for Yoga classes (to start next Monday)
2. Buy Squash shoes (cannot play with walking shoes ANYMORE), maybe racket too
2'. Book Sunday court at 2:00pm before W finds a more committed squash partner
3. Get hair cut, six months really is a long time.... (yikes, yikes, yikes! juste les points!!!)
4. Pay back P (hate the feeling of owing money!)
5. Get car checked: cooling system, oil, tires, suspension (please god be kind)
6. Do tests and go back to doctor
7. Book laser appointment
8. Buy decent mascara and eye cream (cannot be 26 and not have both!)

Estimated cost of previous: 925 EUR, will be broke again next month!

But at least I will have a brand new laptop that needs hours of personalizing, and I will have a life that is in order!!

In Silence

This morning I received an sms from K: "hey, there's something I need to tell you".

My heart raced, not as much as when we were together, but it did, that speeding up of pace out of one emotion: fear.
What is he going to tell me now that will ruin my day? What bad news is he bearing? Back in the old days it was always what is he going to say now that will rip through my sides.. that will make me twist in the pain of degradation, self destruction and tolerance while outwardly holding myself lest he leaves..
It's been 22 months, 22 months since I left the country to get my sense of self back from the only man I ever loved beyond reason. It's been 18 months since I went against all my sense of want and left the one person I had substituted the world by. The person I saw myself through, the person I wanted to be, my comfort and discomfort, my refuge and my prison, my reason and lack there of, my obsession, my mistake, my learning process, my best friend, my lover, my every day for 3 years....
It's been 18 months, and I have recovered from that one relationship in everyone's life that teaches them the basic rule of life. To go through life with nothing else, if not your sense of self.

I replied: "Shoot"

K: " I proposed to her, it is still unofficial, but it's a matter of logistics"

Her would be the girl he cheated on me with several times through out our 2 year relationship that followed 5 years of friendship. Her would be why I left him eventually, her would be the reason me and him could never again be on speaking terms when we broke up.
Her is why I was stripped of 8 years of daily memories with one of the people that at one point meant a great deal in my life. Her and him of course, but this is not about placing blame, if I start doing that then I'm the first to go...

I replied: " Mabrouk :) Thank you for telling me yourself"

K: "Allah yebarek feeky, I learned :)"

N: "So I guess we officially part ways now..."

meaning that the odd conversation, the text sent by mistake, the brief request of a common friends phone number, the asking for a recommended book or place in France, the random contact every few months that had been the norm over the past year, the very thin transparent line holding two people who used to share everything together, will in fact, be finally cut.

K: " I guess so..."

N: " I wish you happiness. Take care"

K: " You too"

And so it is, just like it should be. Chapter closed, people crossing paths so very intensely only to be repeatedly reminded by mother life, that no, you are separate entities, you are individuals, your choices reap consequences, and there is no safety in the aura of another. Familiarity is a sharp double sided blade, and life will move on, regardless of you hopping on or not.

I feel no anger, I feel no spite, I feel no need to understand, I am left with only the acceptance that where that person used to lie, now he doesn't and never can in any way, and sometimes even when you are done with that person, just that is enough to make you a little sad.

On Getting a Grip

Yesterday my laptop died on me, and after rummaging through the yellow pages to find an HP service center within the vicinity of the region to determine the enormity of the problem - which took two hours - and getting there to find that the telephone conversation I had with the repair guy was in fact void of meaning as they do not repair HP laptops - which took an hour - after more yellow pages, more phone calls, vague directions to Sophia Antipolis to where the actual service center does exist (seriously surprising), after arriving there with the miracle of not ending up in the Alps somewhere, I was told (after 4 hours) with a broad smile that only the French adopt while delivering bad news; that my laptop is beyond repair. The mother board is burnt, and it would cost just as much to fix it as it would to buy a new one.

I wonder if the bilingual French sales rep had any idea how close to a nervous breakdown the girl in front of him was...
Here I was, dead laptop in hand, my life as I know it ending, being told that no I can't purchase a qwerty keyboard English version windows laptop in France, no, wait, maybe just for me he could get me an older model for around 800 EURO to be delivered in 2 weeks. I could feel the blood in my temples signaling the beginnings of passing out...

In my head I was going through the gory tedious process; text boss with death of laptop, ask for money, hope that boss replies this week, hope that budget is approved this month, hope that transfer comes through this year, and hope that C will then be able to get me that Dell laptop which is apparently the only option of a functional one that I can deal with that will arrive in France within one week. My world was crashing, my laptop had died, and I needed a replacement, NOW!

Tsk, tsk, what have I been reduced to? The absolute loss of faith and hope at the parting of ways with a machine? Is this what it has come to?

And it became apparent, as it is not that time of month, that I was going through a bout of hysteria... What was this about really? Is all this about T leaving? Deserting me in the south of France amongst the lost souls and the severely independent, every man for himself individualistic culture? Is this about him living the life I was meant to be living? Barefoot in St.Martin renting out sailing boats and wake boarding every day at 6am and dozing off after sunsets on glasses of rose? Forever happy, forever free... Is this about the lack of meaning in my day? In my job? The harshness of the void left behind? Is this the pleading of my conscience to go back to a home where I am stable and secure and have needs beyond the fun and sun?
Shit, is this an identity crisis? I can't be bothered... Just when I knew I was happy, was going where I wanted to go, was at peace with myself....

I need to get a new a laptop, and a grip.

September Apathy

Third glass of wine, at home, T just left, he's leaving for Amsterdam tomorrow morning and I am to be spending the next few days sorting through the oddments of my current life. Three glasses of wine and a slight September breeze, my music is on, my favorite boxers, my pink sweatshirt (yes pink), where does one start...
Ok, I live in the south of France, that much I know, my job is beyond demotivating, that much must be obvious from the lack of mention of it to begin with. My hair has blond streaks in it now.. wait, that is not of importance. I've packed in smoking, that's ten days today, and I have no desire to smoke! Maybe that's still the chest pain attack talking, but my allergies have been surprisingly calm and I feel no urge to light up, beautiful. I have less than 200EUR to spend till the 29th (when I get paid), one of my good friends is coming over for the weekend, not good timing financially, but eh..we'll manage.. again, not important...
Must be the wine... I sent my boss a text yesterday, good move, channel your anger, if I am not to go to that conference, if I am not to get an approval and a budget for the end of this years action plan, I am going to sit on my ass every day till my contract ends in December. Yes, I will. Blogging and browsing and making nothing out of my job. Enough is enough, I am putting my foot down! God I miss being productive...
Rambling on wine and listening to Nickleback, been calling Cairo alot lately, I know I'm not homesick, I can't be, but this feeling of being so unsettled, so uprooted, so spaced out. If I was in Cairo something now would be going on and I'd be taken away with it, or else I'd be on my couch rejoicing in escaping from it. I would be content, or would I?
I look around my flat, all 50m2 for me, my couch, my terrace, my kitchen with my food, oh how simple yet joyous are the pleasures of living alone... rambling again..
Oh, it's September 11th today, as BBC world has been going on and on all day... My absolute lack of interest in things that make the world go insane surprises me for the millionth time, is this self absorption? To not care about massive issues that affect the world yet seem to never end?
I know where I stand, everyone should give it all up and join me in the world of choice and consequence, if you insist on tormenting yourselves should I still bother? I think not. I am probably just severely self involved...
How did we get to this topic? Oh, September 11th, enough on that, pain is pain, and lessons are not learnt, moving on...
Not much more to say... don't feel like I've said anything anyway, love life is funny, but ain't it always? Boss is an irresponsible asshole, isn't everyone's? People are mourning lost one's in NY, isn't someone doing that somewhere every second of the day?
The summers over and it's the time for getting into pajamas and wondering if anything is worth thinking about, or if it all, as always, will work itself out....

Good night.

Endings

I sit on the deck of that harbored boat
It's chilly enough for a sweatshirt and tea
You're on Armagnac, looking at me
It's our last night here
It's one of our last days
Spending mornings and nights anchored off different bays
Your hair has gotten blonder
We both knew this past year, would take us here
and being the grown up I promised I was
I wrap myself silently in my own arms
I gaze at the stars, I take in the breeze
I ignore that rare soft look you're giving me
And in the unlikeliest way of your ways
"I'm going to miss you" I hear you say
"Don't start saying things like that to me"
And in my suppressed weakness "it's not time yet.."
"It will pass quicker than you think, it's been on my mind, and I'm going to miss you"
Just a few tears, silenced by strokes
Shushed away by kisses
By tender words that make it worse
Just as if this parting of ways was not -
A choice
Oh drama, how we embrace you
How we rummage you for salvation
and blame you for the souls starvation

Panic

I got sick, he got a job
I fell flat face, he got cold feet
He pursued, I saw faults, in both of us and the world
I got sick, and all I wanted was to run away
Where to? What from?
To someone else's sureness
To someone else's game of twister
To another's life in the sun
To another's daring to be free
Even more free than I have become?
Bring out the ruler, and tell me
Just how free is this new me?
But first let's establish which world we are measuring in
The world I come from?
The world I have aspired to and fitted in?
Or the world in my head?
I sat still for three days and all I saw was torment
Objectivity, relativity, high bench marks and questions
Left all up to me
I got sick, and all I feel is the urge to run away
Again

Too Many Men

I'm on my couch, alternately browsing/cooking/resting, I haven't spent this much time alone doing nothing in ages. I followed up on my loathsome job via phone and email, and for the millionth time acknowledged the fact that if I didn't have a conscience I should've given up long ago. I used to believe this job would go somewhere, but now I have accepted that I am doing it for the experience, that is the experience of trying to reach a goal against all odds, the sales experience, the money, and most importantly the opportunity it gives me to spend 2-3 years of my life living alone and traveling flexibly and regularly to try to figure out what it is exactly that I am looking for, who exactly after all this versatility and adaptability I have displayed, do I want to be....
But at this specific day, I am crowded, crowded with too many men in my life, in my day!
And I hate, HATE, how every one of them speaks to a different part of me....
Me and T have been on splendid terms, as previously mentioned, he is leaving in what I assume is max 3 months. T is the man I have been dating for almost a year now, we see other people, but as we are both living in this town full of lost souls and drama queens, we have learnt to appreciate each other and adapt to our differences. He is now never crass around me, is conscious that being a little less selfish doesn't mean he is selling his soul, and he is close enough to me now to manage his geminian restlessness and if he absolutely can't, he has learnt to be tactful instead of rude. I am quite proud of him, he has come a long way, and I love him, in a familiar, sexy, intimate, fun way. I must admit, I am getting more attached to him, and a bit sad he will leave, as I know for a fact, it is very unlikely we will cross paths again. He is a gypsy, and I am allergic to the pain of missing. It will end abruptly, and it will upset me. Damn men like T, they are ironically the only men that make me feel safe.
E is someone who has decided to enter my life full force, we met by coincidence in the most unexpected place, he liked me, he went for me, and he had his mind made up in days. I was the one for him, and he means it. I have never met someone so straight forward, so balanced, so attentive, so committed and disciplined, so open to communication, so willing to make me happy, yet he is confident, focused and has very clear standards to what he can and cannot tolerate in a girl. He is not closed minded, but he is oriental, I have tried in every way to tell him there is much of me he would not accept, then he presses for more clarification, and I shy away from this exposure, this violation of my privacy. I know this is not an emotional attraction for me, I am attracted to him because I know he will treat me right, will not cause me heart ache, will provide a warm ethical home for me, and be a good father and a good partner. I find myself trying to let myself be loved first for a change, be the receiver instead of the giver, I am trying something I have never done before, waiting for my emotions to grow...
And as fate would have it, out of nowhere, G called me today. I cannot explain how I feel about G, after my last horrendous break up with K 18 months ago, G is the only man I wanted to be with with all my soul, we fell together, and he decided that the long distance emotional passionate ride was too much for him. I swallowed my pride and put on my brave girl face, ended it when his confusion was too painful, and decided to get on with my life. I would not once again waste my time on someone I want more than he wants me. Hence going back to T for comfort and distraction, and giving E a chance in the name of sanity.
And G called today, after two months of silence, just to hear my voice, see if I'm well, he sounded like hell, and without asking I know why. G has a tormented soul, he is never satisfied, and his zelousy for life wears him out, and his voice breaks through me, breaks through my detachment with T, and my toughness with E, and my confusion with the world.
G takes me back 6 years, where the decision to spend the rest of my life with someone is taken at a glance, with the first kiss, with the feeling of a hand belonging there.
G takes me to a place where I know who I am.
Why can't I have a simple love life, ever?

A bit of Reality

Too many blogs, I keep jumping from one to the other, I am getting addicted, but I like to get to know bloggers, their styles and stories, I like to connect with them. So I have spent most of today adding blogs to my favorites list, so I can get to know these people better, it's an endless process.. I'm tired now.
Today my chest nearly failed on me, for years now I have been allergic to dust and humidity, that basically means I am allergic to the air in any non-dry polluted place, limiting my options really and giving me a hard time as I am usually either in blissfully dusty Cairo, or residing by the beach in the South of France. My allergy kicks in around May, goes full blast in July and August, and becomes non-existent in the winter, so obviously, I am currently recovering from the last two months. So over the summer, I have apparently over-abused my ventoline inhaler, making my heart go too fast, and forcing my lungs to open up too much, I have been smoking and partying regardless of my knowledge that my allergies plus my cholesterol levels mean that I simply cannot afford to smoke. This morning I woke up with a lymph node swollen into another chin, inflamed and blocked ear and throat. I drove myself to the doctors clinic, relayed the allergy history, where she informed me that all my allergy medicine and dosages need adjustment and that I have run down my respiratory system, the swollen gland was my immunity system telling me that it has crashed, and that it is sick of me and fighting my idiocy.
I was tired and in pain, but nothing to complain about, she said it was normal I am tired, and told me to rest for a few days. I left her feeling as I do when I leave doctors clinics, I did my part, will follow instructions, now lets get on with one's life. Then it began to happen, at the pharmacy I could not stand up from the escalation of the pain in my chest, I sat on the floor till served, walking to my car I saw a friend and ignored her, raced to my car with only the thought of getting home on my mind. Once home my chest felt free to almost completely stop functioning, I speed dialed best friend, who is very aware of my chest attacks, and only managed to say one word "come". Well acquainted with how much it takes me to ask for help let alone anything, she was over in 5 mins, by then I was immobile on my couch, trying not to panic, move as little as possible and to get my breathing to be as least painful as possible, when I saw her I started crying, and I am not one who cries easily unless I'm at the cinema. I was terrified, and when she said lets go to the hospital, to my amazement I instantly agreed, it felt like a hospital worthy state, but I could not move and breathe at the same time apparently, it was not even an option. God bless France, when she called for an ambulance, explaining the minimal information she could get out of me, after 15mins they refused to come for me, they told her since I have seen a doctor I should sit through and it will pass. After three hours they were proven right.
E has been texting me all day, worried sick, T has been over to make sure I am still in one piece which is touching as T is anti-worry and sympathy which I love him for, and has promised to come back after his work meeting so if I have another attack he will be there. I hate feeling helpless, and I loathe sympathy. I wish T would come back and watch a movie with me and make fun of me so I can sleep.

I am Clinton

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The Mushroom Experience

I was in Amsterdam last weekend, meeting up with my school girlfriends who flew all the way from Cairo to attend the Madonna concert (my friends are extravagant). There were four of us girls, and one guy, one of the girls cousin.
I found Amsterdam to be a city unlike any other I have been to in Europe, the architecture has a beautiful somewhat eery feel to it, but what it lacks in grandeur it makes up for in character. Amsterdam was built by people from a different culture to the Italians, the Spanish, the French and the British, that much was very apparent, no sweetness, no endearment, it just is, boldly and in your face. I've been in close contact with Dutch people since I moved to France, so I already knew of this culture, however seeing the place was enlightening as to why my friends were like that.
The first day was spent wandering around and coffee shop hopping, one must now clarify that I am fairly familiar with hash and weed, by fairly familiar I mean when a joint is passed around my group of friends I will take a few drags, this could be as regular as several times a week, or once a month, or every few months, I am not anal when it comes to smoking up as long as it is in moderation and I don't get sick on it. My friends on the other hand, are alien to the concept even, surprisingly we spent the whole of Friday bouncing from one coffee shop to the next, where my friends devoured one space cake after the next, and one joint after the next, they tried everything, space tea, space hot chocolate, weed joints, hash joints, Columbian, Afghany, etc etc... I had severe allergy attacks so I stuck to the space cake, and since there's only so much cake one can intake, I spent all of Friday watching my previously sheltered friends off their heads on soft drugs, fair enough, fair enough, we are in Amsterdam after all, it was a hilariously enjoyable day.
Come Saturday, I thought alright, lets get to see Amsterdam, we did some site seeing and light shopping, and before I knew it one of my dearest friends walked up to me with two brown paper bags.
Me: what's that? (very innocently)
Her: Mushrooms (very naturally)
Me: WHAT?? You bought them??
Her: Yes (smiling mischievously)
Me: How many did you get? (preparing to get pissed off at getting pressured into something I quite clearly said priorly that I would not do)
Her: Four
Me: Four?
Her: Enty 3ayza?? Mesh 2olty you wont
Me: grrrr (secretly)
out loud said: How long is it's trip?
Her: 5-6 hours
Me: A7a, I won't watch you four being idiots for 6 hours, I'll do it too (I'm like that, I will change my mind in a second and break boundaries with no guilt involved)

In a flash I had a brown bag in my hands with my little plastic box of mushrooms.

The instructions on the pack (yes, there are instructions) said to first take half the portion, and then after two hours, the second half. We took the first half at 5:00pm, and headed to the park..
We got giggly, a bit trippy after an hour, things were just funnier, so we decided to take the rest of the pack and get it over with, this can't be what the fuss is all about. And so we did, and so it began. I remember all of that trip, all six hours of it, it was such a powerful experience, I had the most mild ones, so nothing was moving or talking and I didn't hallucinate, but all my senses were sharp to an almost overwhelming degree. Bright colors were brilliant, trees were so much greener, and my eyes spotted every detail in any object they fell on, the cracks in the tree, the brownish dieing segment of the leaf, the colors of the miniscule gravel composing the ground. I felt light, innocent, free and happy like a little girl skipping in a park.
I urged everyone to leave the park so we could hit town, I didn't want to waste this clarity and enhancement on only the park. My friends being the comfort zone formers that they are were reluctant at first, but my enthusiasm swayed them. The following few hours I can only describe as sharp, brilliant, clear, enhanced and emotional. All my senses were wildly alive, and as I looked around at the people closest to my heart, I saw every one of them stripped down to their basic characters: insecure, attention seeking, serene, free, my emotions were all clear and positive, later I was told that that was because I am essentially a happy person in a good place in my life, if I had been down or depressed it would've just enhanced that, I will have to take their word for it.
With an hour to go, I was tired, it's draining to feel everything so much, to see so much detail, to be so alert and aware of everything, to see the awe in a purple jacket worn by a cycler across the park, I was ready to go back to normal now, and eventually I did.

I never thought anyone could learn anything from drugs, on hash and weed I just relax and chill, or am put in a slightly better mood, I suffer no after effects to my mood, I wake up hazy and fuzzy if I over do it, but it has never given me food for thought.
I have always been against drugs, hard core drugs, and this experience however enlightening it may have been, has re-enforced my conviction that drugs should be banned from the world.

That mushroom trip taught me two very important things:
1. How much we let our senses wane... every day I eat food I don't taste, hear sounds I don't listen to, and see colors that I fade into the background. I have powerful senses, windows to the little joys of life, I will slow down and appreciate everything I sense more.
2. Living in the now is the key to happiness, we've heard this a million times, we know this, but after spending an hour and a half enjoying, divulging, embracing and rejoicing in a cheese burger, like that cheese burger was the sole center of the universe, and then 15 minutes later being so engrossed in the color of a tree that I had to ask myself when was the last time I ate, absolutely forgetting the cheese burger episode, I have to admit, I have never seen such a live demonstration of how focusing on now is rewarding. From now on, I will not dwell, nor fret.

I will never take mushrooms, or any form of hard drugs again, I don't regret my experience, but that drug is a short cut to happiness, it grants stolen moments from the you that would've been happy had you worked on your mental perceptions, self acceptance and inner peace. It's a ticket to six hours of how you could be interacting with this world, and that ticket expires, and you're left with the bland comparison of how you really see life, and that comparison is depressing. If I were 16 not 26, and I'd tried that, I would not have stopped.

Note:
Mushrooms are the natural form of LSD, they mess with your chemical balance.
Many stories of bad trips and followed depressions are recounted, i.e. most experiences are not this pleasant.
Even drugs that are not biologically addictive can be psychologically addictive.
Please don't follow this example.

Tolerating You

I'm sitting on the sofa in this temporary room, and I watch you drink in laughter and I watch you mask your anger. I'm sitting on this sofa comfortable in my skin, for my skin has gotten used to being numb, while being bruised.
I wonder where your drink will take you tonight, I wonder and I think of ways to make you soften like I do - so very often.
I look at you with the shame of someone helpless to the pain of being so aware of more emotion than the skin and bones can bear. I smile for you in silence and contemplate my blindness. I smile as your hollow laugh echoes through the room and I watch safer from afar, only I know how angry you are.
I let my eyes slowly trace every detail of your face, I watch every trait in you materialize in motions of the body and diversions of the eyes, in the nervous self absorbed way you twirl your curls and act like I am no one really, in your world.
I watch you, aware of how badly I want to touch you.
In two weeks you will have left me with the anguish of no reason. In two weeks you will have shaped my newest bruises, in two weeks you will have raped me of my delusions. In two weeks you will have pushed me to the edge of my forbearance, where I can no longer plea this complete loss of me.
And today you drink your drinks and shove me away. You look at me with the shame of your abuse, and the burden of the blame of your misuse of everyday I give to you. You look at me in such anger that I half anticipate you smash your glass across my face, and I wait. Maybe then I'd walk away, maybe then when you kiss my hair in tears I will not stay.
I watch you, torn between your selfish and your weak, and I curse my vision through the hateful to the meek.
I close my eyes and try to still my compassion for your wrongs. Today I wish that I would walk out of this temporary room and forget just how hollow this life is and not wait for you to follow, with whims of gentleness, or moments of helplessness, or rushes of the defiance of the mind that last less than it takes for me to smile.
Leaning on the sofa right now, are you really that unkind?
I watch you drink away; I wish you'd smash away and lash out the anger that is really at the cleansing of my sins. I can see the edge of my forbearance, where I will walk away in peace and hold no grudges.

Note: I wrote this in March 2004, I was with K then, the best and worst love story of my life, the only man I put before myself, is this why I don't want to get into another relationship?