A line in the sand

It's 2:00am and for the first time in my marriage i have left our bedroom to sleep on the couch; I am that angry. I put my head on my borrowed pillow in an atempt to sleep, and this sentence pop into my head: "you always draw a line in the sand". Used as an ingenious manipulation tool by a sociopath ex, who was indeed extremely intelligent and extremely right. I always do draw lines in the sand. On this side of the line lies my couch and on the other side lies our bed. A line in the sand.....

The emotional roller coaster: Egypt's uprise

Every single day of this revolution to date, is worthy of several posts. Several. But i was too busy being awakened as an Egyptian, to write. I was too busy following facebook and twitter, then too busy trying to figure out illegal ways to get internet access, then too busy trying to find a phone line, then too busy trying to protect my home and family, then too busy packing to go to my mothers, then too busy convincing my husband to let me go to Tahrir, and in between all this time i was too busy watching BBC, Arabiya, CNN, Al Hayat and dream and reading 3 newspapers daily, and reading articles on the washington post, the independent and every other reputable online news portal available. I was too busy to come to this corner of my world and write. I did not know what to write. I still am not sure i know what to write. So forgive how disconnected this will be, it will be as it is in my head.

Let me just say a few things here before i go on. I have been a disconnected human being. I did not read the papers prior to jan 26 2011. I was actively passive and alienated. Why? My answer is very logical to me: why get worked up over something i don't intend to get up and change? As selfish as that is, that was my reality and i was quite comfortable with it. Let us get something else out there; i am completely and entirely pro this revolution. Completely and entirely. No doubt, no argument, nothing.

i will try to break the experience of the past month into phases, or days, linked to emotions. I think that would make the most sense to me, as i have changed my emotional position many times amidst this "uprising". My emotional position, not my rational one.

Jan 25: i am an oblivious citizen who has seen somewhere on facebook that today something is going on. i know there will be protests, so i plan my day around it. I go to my doctor at 11am, she is right off gam3et el dowal, my husband takes me for safety reasons in his head. i finish, we get into the car, we stop by the gas station in gam3et el dowal, it is very very quiet. And then the gas station tells us they are closing, and we look down the road and see the protesters coming. Hundreds walking towards us, we get into the car and head in the opposite direction and find our way home.

Jan 26th: i am entranced by the coverage and the scene from the day before. I hear the stories of violence. I am angered. I am furious. I fear that this will be the last of it and that the people will go back into their homes. I start nagging my husband to join the streets, without much success. (note: my husband refused that i take part as i have asthma and a leg injury that would have made me quite a burden to him, and i consented in staying home willingly as i chose not to burden him with worrying about me)

Jan 27th: I am proven wrong. I am glued to facebook and cheering it on. I am glued to Al Jazeera (the most channel offering around the clock live coverage at the time). I am flipping between all afore mentioned news channels and i am transfixed and i learn how to access the internet through.... Romania..?

Jan 28th: I wake up to no mobile lines, no internet, no land line! I wake my husband up in panic, i drive over to best friend 5 minutes away, use her phone and camp there for the day watching TV in awe.... violence, live ammunition, people dropping dead, blood, cars running over protestors, live abductions, violence, violence, violence, army take to streets, jubilation, the peace before the storm for like 10 minutes, fire, looting, prisons breaking, neighborhood committees, hiding money and valuables around the house, people calling the TV screaming, weapons, neighborhood, water boiling on the stove, baseball bat in hand, pledge as self defense? husband in the street, gun shots, shouting, repeat, repeat, repeat, 6am meltdown, finally sleep. Somewhere in the middle there was a half ass speech from the then president that i recall nothing from. Was this when he fired the government?

Jan 29th: we abort ship and head to my mothers, where we spend even more time glued to the television if possible

Jan 29th - 30th - 31st, Feb 1st: We watch minister after minister take the screen while we hear gunshots in the background. we hear sporadic rumors that the army has orders to shoot (the one day i had finally convinced husband to go). We watch what seems like a lot of news, but is no news at all. I fear that we have reached stagnation. Shafik makes the infamous speech "3ala re2abty ye7salohom 7aga", referring to the safety of those in Tahrir. I watch Mubarak say that he wants to die on this land, that he will not run again, that he has done the best he could and that history will have the last word with him. I cry. I friggin cry over his speech. I believe that enough is done, he will leave, let him do one last good thing for the country. I abuse my last chance at believing that he really isnt all that bad.

Feb 2nd: Darkness. I watch 16 hours of a live battle between armed thugs and unarmed citizens. I watch, and the world watches, while no one stops it. We all watch as this is left to happen. A day before there were ministers all over TV, and a day after, but on that day there was only one thing happening: murder in broad daylight, with no one stopping it. Till the second i write this i cannot believe that this was left to happen. I do not care who caused it, the fact that it remained unstopped is a crime unlike any other, and it was intentional, and i wait to see who will be held responsible, and he better be hung.

I cry, i do not sleep, i sleep at 7am after the battle ends, i cry myself to sleep over the violation of my innocence and the death of those i am sure died that day, even before we got a count.

Feb 3rd: I watch and watch and watch for some explanation for the night before. Nothing. A feable apology with the excuse of "having no idea". I am even more sick to my stomach.

Feb 4th: I go to Tahrir, i throw such a huge tantrum that led me to Tahrir. And i saw, the chants from a distance, the signs, the humor, the civilized checkpoints, all walks of life. I always understood it, but now i get to see it.

Feb 6th: we go back to work - if you can call it that- and we try to do our part by working hard and do our part by going to Tahrir. Work by day Tahrir after work. The week of perseverance.

Feb 10th: at work, rumors rumors rumors. "He will step down", "Badrway said", "Shafik said", "my mother said". My boss tells whoever wants to go home to leave, while i stay with her till 5:30pm. I go home and sit infront of TV for another 5-6 hours, waiting. I watch "al bayan al awel", and realize that there is conflict between army and president. Build up build up build..... everyone i know in Tahrir (i wanted to watch the speech in a quiet environment, i was not about to miss the presidents stepping down speech!)... build up build up build up........ the worst speech ever given by anyone who ever had an audience. I remember looking at my husband afterwards, so what exactly did he SAY??

I fear the blood.

I pray... i pray that protesters hold themselves peaceful, and i curse a man so narcissistic that he would burn a nation to hell.

Feb 11th: proud, honorable victory..... was it really that easy? Euphoria, Tahrir sq. Dancing and singing to "watany habiby al watan el akbar". Fireworks, Egyptians dancing on the streets. jubilation in all its meaning of the word.

Feb 12th: tears, tears for those who died, tears for not being there the whole time, tears and tears and tears while the magnitude of all we have been put through as a nation sets in.

The next two weeks: the realization of the extent of the filth that this county was turned into. talk show after talk show after talk show. Blood donations, street cleanings, slums visits, how on earth was this country left to be so raped and mutilated?

Tomorrow: uncertainty..... but thats another post.

2011 - the year of being 30

I have plans for 2011. Big plans. I have plans of getting out of debt, of saving money, of earning a promotion, of losing the rest of the "first year of marriage weight" (5K down, 5 to go!). I have plans of sticking to yoga this time, of traveling to a country i've never been to before (Croatia? Greece? Bali?). I have plans for peace of mind as well. I have intentions to stress less, do more. Worry less, live more. Cocoon less, go out more. I have plans of reading great books, practicing french, and starting my book. I have all the plans someone who is excited about life would have, tailored to little me.

I also have wishes for 2011. I wish for my mother to be better. For my mother to stay with me and to get better. That is my biggest wish, i would trade in all my other wishes and previously declared plans in a heart beat, for this one wish.

I have wishes for my husband to find his peace at work and reap the fruits of all that hard work. I wish him success, in abundance.

I have one last wish that my best friend moves back from the states. That somehow her husband decides that his 15 year plan is not worth it, and just calls it a day. You never know....

Lastly, i am grateful for 2010. I am grateful for my mom's perseverance and stubbornness :)

I am grateful for the miraculous opportunity to change industries and careers without taking a pay cut. I am grateful for the ability to work 12 hour days for weeks on end and being able to prove myself worthy of this opportunity, and being recognized for it so quickly.

I am grateful for the proximity of this opportunity to my home! I am grateful for one year of marriage, peaceful and happy and as smooth as one can hope for it to be.

I am grateful for my 20's being over with all their drama, confusion and intensity. I am grateful for moving into a more grounded era of my life.

Lastly i am grateful for for all the gifts that God has given me to be able to live my life as i live it.

May 2011 be as kind as 2010 and as fruitful.

Love and joy to all,

N

.......

8 people have died from my school class. One of which was my best friend since i was 4, she died 11 years ago, she was 19.

one died from a jet ski accident
4 in car crashes
one from diabetes
one didnt wake up
and lastly, one from cancer

Its so shocking and sad. They were all so young, it fills me with fear. Fear for my loved ones, pure raw fear. Fear and sadness.

Time

I have turned into a workaholic
I am so tired, but i can't stop
I do everything else in between
Except making love
That is the only time i completely disconnect
And collapse in the arms of my man
It feels like i am working for my livelihood
for my sanity
for my existence
when all i want to do deep inside
is have kids and walk barefoot in the sand

this life is passing too quickly
time passes so slowly when you are waiting for something to happen
and when you are finally done waiting
it flies

The Writer in Me

I am never happier than when i am writing. It is the one thing i can do for hours on end, it is the one thing i can for hours on end and lose all sense of time.
It is the one thing i do that gives me energy, not takes energy away from me. After the hours on end i am left so energized, i could start a whole new day.
I have always wanted to be a writer, i have always wanted to be published. First it was poetry, then it was prose, then it was short pieces, and then came blogging.
Blogging for me was so beneficial, on so many levels. Blogging was my first venture into receiving feedback on my writing. Every positive comment i got was elevating and self assuring, my favorites coming from insomniac, Juka and faisal :) The reassurance that i actually could write, was the most rewarding i have ever received.
Blogging was as well to me a self exploration process. If you have been a follower of this blog you would know just how personal it can get. I was not always so readily expressive. I used to be tied up in taboos and self denial. Maxxed out could attest to that, the one that got me try out blogging to begin with. I was very very closed up and defensive. This blog offered me a medium where i could talk about love, sex, death, religion and so much more...

Back in feb, when i realized i hated every aspect of my job, i thought the time had finally came for me to find a way to write for a living, or get into an industry where i could get closer to writing. I shortlisted all the publishing companies and bookstore chains and targeted them all.
There was no room there for an established manager with relatively high salary expectations. I had to ask myself just how willing i was to take a pay cut... I wasn't very willing, with marriage and kids and mortgages on the horizon, it would not have been very smart of me.
So i resigned myself to doing something i loved, but was not necessarily in love with, and started looking into working with houses - a love i realized when i was making up my own house.
So Sunday i start my new career in something i am very excited in working with.
But now remains the writing issue. I must write. I was born to write, and as i hit 30, i must start realizing that dream as well.

A lot of you bloggers write as well, do you have ideas how i could start this journey?
Have any of you written books and published them? Do share your experiences in this safe haven of a space, i really would love to get started...

Thank you in advance....

N

New Beginnings

After three years and a half, i have left my job. I am no longer a senior manager in retail, i am no longer the person people go to when they need help, i am no longer doing a million things across a million functions, i no longer exist in the company to solve problems.
Starting Sunday, i am a middle manager in another industry. I am doing one specific thing, i am doing my favorite thing in all the things i have done. I have switched industries and careers all in one go. I am now part of a successful growing company, a leading company in its field, and i am a level 4 not 6. There are two people between me and the CEO. My boss and my boss's boss. I look forward to working at my desk with earphones in my ear marketing away.... for slightly better pay in a much better and healthier working environment.

I am anxious, i am excited, i am elated, i am a fish out of water; i am happy.

I have put a down payment on a beach chalet. its really a 2 bedroom apartment, 95m. My last 3500 EUR savings from France went into the first installment, and i am broke till end of year to pay back the money i needed for the second installment. It's my dream come true :) my house at the beach.

I will be 30 in two weeks. Thirty. THIRTY. It is terrifying, such unfamiliar territory... Officially grown up... in my head i am still 27. Really. I am thinking about having kids in the next few years.. i am married. I swear i do not know when it all happened. 9 month married after tomorrow.

Everything is new, i have a new home with an olive wall and a red wall - not in the same room i assure you - and contemporary furniture that i picked piece by piece. I cook for two and wash men's clothes.

A new home, a new job, a new beach house, a new decade ahead.

And i will finally start writing again, i had been so unhappy in my last job, and so busy doing all of these grown up things.

I have a slight suspicion that parts of me changed along the way.. or maybe i just don't know how to be me and be married at the same time, so much of me was about my stories in love... now love is all about sharing movies and dates and chores and funny banter... now love is so stable, there is no drama to channel my intensity through...

It's sort of exciting to see how i will manage to stay me in this docile role..

New beginnings....

The Rest of My Life

I want to write for the rest of my life.
I want to write a book. A clever book that is insightful that you can't put down.
I want to write a book about people, and what they have to get through just by being people.
I want to start my own magazine. I want to rent a studio, paint it in bright colors and turn it into a buzzing magazine mania. And when i have kids i want to take them to work with me.

I am sick of being employed. I am loathsome of the business world. The top line, the bottom line, the expansion strategy, the development path, the remuneration strategy, the flip side, the product mix, the aging report, the positioning, the branding.

I want to write. I want to switch to mac and write in my terrace.

I hate money.

Ordinary Love Story - Tribute to K'

It was era's ago. I still wore baggy shirts and took my own notes.
It was two years before we spoke, two years of playing cards every day, a group of four, two of four.
We shared a hand, then shared a laugh, we were inseparable, at the card table that is.
I fell in anguish with his friend, he fell in need-fullness with a girl in my class. A new group of four, those were fun times.
I graduated, he graduated. He wore a band, my heart got crushed, unrelated incidents at the time.
I left the country, he drove me to the plane, he held my hand, he was my friend.
My heart got butchered, his girl left him for more cash. I picked up the pieces, we found comfort in picking up each others pieces. He was my best friend.
He took me to and from every plane that touched home. Little words, no touches save for twice in ten years, the touch of a hand when i left home and when my heart got butchered.
No kisses on the cheeks, no hugs, no looks. He was my bestest friend.
I fell in lust, i let myself ride the wind, i went here and there and let my hair down. Then i went home. He picked me up and took me home.
I lost faith, i swore off the whole thing, i was done. He was the only man i believed. He was my truest ever friend.
He waited. A while. A very little while. He spoke, he wanted, he saw, he knew.
A risk, two friends, of years and years. So much trust, so much love, so many pieces picked up along the way.
It was 6 months before i hugged him back. It was a 100 i love yous before i felt it too. It was a million reassurances before i could really give it a chance.
It was mostly hard for a very long time.

Today, we both smell like our washing detergent. I do not cook if he is not eating with me. I do not sleep if he is not next to me. I cannot sit far away from him. I cannot tolerate the thought of harm to him. My hands find him before i tell them to. My lips reach for him while i am half asleep. My heart goes to him whenever i am away from him. I am as he sees me. I am lovable because he loves me. I am good because he believes in me. I am safe because he is still my best friend. My truest ever friend.

I do not know how long it will last. A month, a year, a lifetime... I do know that today, we both believe it can last forever, and want it to. As naive as that is.

A tribute to you Kaf, may your doubts get overshadowed by your idealism, and may your heart leap in faith despite yourself.

Love you,
N

4 days

I am signing off my single status on Friday. I am officially going to be a man's wife in 4 days.
For the past three months all I have done is work my ass off to put a house, honeymoon and wedding together. My hand bag has carried catalogs, magazines, wood samples, fabric samples, knob samples and handle samples, sporadically and sometimes all at the same time. I have made lists of people, items, food, gifts, dates, songs and lists of the lists themselves. I've gone through three notebooks and all the favors i have been offered. My finances have been stretched beyond anything i could ever imagine and any decision is only taken when the excel sheet of my life approves.
I have discovered in these three months that i am undoubtedly a nerd. My budget goes down to the towels and serving plates.
I have also discovered that i like olive green enough to paint a wall in it and furnish alot of my house in it. That i will not get along with my mother in law and that the best i can hope for is her not stopping our getting married before friday, and that brides are actually slaves/maids that wear themselves out completely by the time they get to the wedding date. And that the reason people have honeymoons is to recover from the pre-wedding slavery.

I am getting married on Friday. I do not comprehend it. Amidst this madness i got caught up in the details and forgot that huge fact.

Today while i was driving i realized that i am deciding to stop exploring the options of the world and am deciding to go through the world with this one companion, always.
I have decided that i need not try to search further, i am set.

These are big things to decide. Does one really decide these things consciously?
I think not. One meets someone, likes them, they get to know each other, they get to love each other, the good times outweigh the bad and one grows attached and things unroll smoothly till it is time to move forward. The excitement of the many festivities then overshadows any real thinking, and the rest just happens.
Till one day when you have an hour to yourself for the first time in months on your bachelorette trip while your friends are decorating the house for the big bash, and your wedding is two weeks away, you realize; you are marrying this person.

You realize the responsibility of the decision, and you do one of two things; brush it off as nerves and do not think about it, or actually revisit the idea if this is what you really want.

I want to say i did the latter, but i will not lie straight to your faces.

I brushed it off and put on my hot top and went downstairs to play all these fun violating games and then went dancing all night with my girlfriends and drank so many kinds of alcohol its a wonder i have any recollection of that night at all. I had the most fun ever.

And then i went back home and fought with my fiance for 10 days straight. I think that was my way to try to push him away one final time from the damaged girl that i am. Try to see just how much he can take; i AM marrying him after all.

Two days ago we sat down and had the talk; should we really be doing this? If we have so much to fight about, should we really be getting married when everyone knows that things get worse after marriage?

"If i was still your best friend i would tell you not to go ahead with this, but i am not your best friend anymore, i am the man that loves you and wants to spend his life with you and i am telling you that marrying me is the right thing to do"

I laughed, we laughed. "Leap of faith it is then?" "Yes, leap of faith" he said.

It is idealistic to think that binding yourself to another person raised in a different house with a different family will work out for you. It is idealistic and downright naive. There is so much to fight about. "We do it this way", "but we do it that way!". So so naive.

But i think of our mornings in bed together to come.
I think of us watching a movie on our couch.
I think of coming home after a long day to a warm house and a man that is waiting to take me in his arms.
I think of the trips we are yet to take and the plans we are yet to make.
I think of our terrace with the view.
I think of the little things and i say what the hell? I'll be naive like everyone else and get married.
Eshme3na ana?

Wish me luck, i am getting married in 4 days....

Leap of Love

i leap
out the window, down the steep
you catch, our roles
were assigned from days of old
we play, our parts
we walk the footsteps
and check the marks
the fear, so real
it manifests itself in me
why leap? why go?
why change the few things that we know?
why must? why more?
why take my anchor off its shore?
we love
i know
we leap together because we know
i leap, with you
with my feet feared to the floor
i try, i do
to only think that i love you
the fear, so real
it manifests itself in me

Love II

I love him so much, it hurts
I am about to marry him
I know he loves me
Every day he tells me he loves me
Every day i ask him "how much?"
"As much as the whole world" he says
"As much as the sea is blue"
"As much as you ask me"
"more than you want"
"More than i ever loved or will love anyone"
He always tells me how much
It makes me fall more and more in love
And it hurts
This complete falling
This complete surrendering
This dependency
This feeling that a part of me is missing if i am not touching him
This amount of care and tenderness i feel to one person
Even when love is complete
It still manages to ache somehow
This constant want
This constant want

Trousseau

I've been in the states for a month, hence the disappearing act. I was in Philly for an advanced executive education in Wharton Business School and then i was in NYC buying my getting married gear.
I've always wondered what that was. I'd always hear about girls going abroad to get their "trousseau". I have genuinely truly always wondered what the hell that meant. So for the benefit of all my single friends reading this out there, let me let you in on a little secret, trousseau is french (i think) for guilt free shopping spree.
It does however entail some no brainers:
1. your wedding dress / gear (veil, shoes etc)
2. lingerie (for those of you who only ever do cotton basic like myself and need to take it up a notch)
3. honey moon outfits (the super little cloths that you will wrap around your body when you are thinner than you have ever been as you have been starving yourself to be the thinnest version of you on your big day), i am yet to be the thinnest version of me, but after ten days of ten hour shopping marathons carrying weights (shopping bags), i am not too far behind. The soundest piece of advice anyone will give you is not to get all your clothes in that ridiculous size you will not sustain.
4. nice clothes for all the events to come, as somehow when you embark on getting married and enter into that form of coupledom formal events that require soiree outfits seem to pop out of nowhere weekly
5. your katb kitab outfit and shoes
6. shopping spree! swimsuits, shoes, makeup, pajamas, more clothes, that estee moisturizer you always thought you deserved, a new toilet case (i mean everything else is new why stop there?), that super expensive guerlain blusher that transforms you with one stroke (surely if not now then when?) the designer belt, the CK bag, etc etc
7. Whatever you convince yourself you must buy for the house from the country you are in. In my case this amounted to table cloths, napkins, runners and place mats (you'd think i was going to be spending my life camped under my dining table), a down duvet (yes, i carried it ten blocks and packed it cross Atlantic) and bathroom sets. Oh, and an apron, a pealer and kitchen towels. (i really don't know why i was so obsessed)

Girls, trousseau is fancy for take some money and go spend it at your every whim. I had to save up this money myself so i was a bit more careful, and took the rest out on my credit card and will be paying it off for the year to come. But for once i do not care i am in debt again, it's my trousseau! It is meant to be guilt free.

After 14 ten hour days of simulation, role playing, lectures and extreme business practices, it was a fine break to invade Manhattan in such a way. Should anyone need to know where to buy what of the above from NYC, i am an email away, do not let all this research go to waste!

May you all be well and happy and look forward to that shopping spree.

Soft

I see his faults.
I see them as clearly as i see the sun or the stars.
I see them and see how i could let them turn our life into a living hell.
I see his stubbornness, his over sensitivity, his insecurities.
I see them, so very clearly i see them.
I remember a very far away time, when i was blinded of faults by love.
Where i could have sworn that every inch was perfect, every trait endearing.
Where i had no need to change a thing.
So long gone are those days of innocence, of blinding passion, of naivety.
I never thought i would be this me of today.
Where i see his faults, like the sun in the sky, and at the same time see my smile in his eyes.
I am always smiling, i am always loved, it is always gentle.
It is so very soft, this thing we have.
We can talk, and we can laugh, and we can argue, and we can get angry, and we can hurt and get hurt, but it is at the end the softness that always wins.
I see his faults, and i see the choice to let them ruin us or let the softness smooth it all out.
Growing up has it's virtues, you get the chance to choose happiness.

4:00am terrors

I didn't know what that meant. I thought i did, but i didn't, not really.
I go to bed tired, having spread myself too thin across the various areas of my life that demand my full attention.
I go to bed exhausted from the decisions, responsibilities and the commute.
I go to bed to face the only time in the day when i am truly alone.
The weight on my chest fills into its full heaviness.
The pain in my shoulders from all the clenching becomes prominent.
The muscles of my face are tense from all the frowning.
I am alone with my thoughts.
I try to trick my mind into going elsewhere.
I am too tired to even do that, so i just close my eyes and hope for sleep.
And i start to feel the fear.
I feel it starting in the pit of my stomach and flowing slowly and steadily outwards stretching into every part of my body till it is all consuming and overtaking.
I am aware of the flow of my fear through my soul, and it scares me.
Fear itself scares me, i know what is coming.
I feel my nose tinkle with the warning of tears that need to be let out.
I will not cry. There will be no cracking of the dam.
I bite it back and will myself to sleep.
Out of sheer misery i sleep.
It is somewhere between 1 and 2am.
I dream, i dream that i am sick.
I dream that i will die.
I dream that worse things happen than what is actually happening.
I wake up traumatized and tired.
It is 4:00am.
I have had one hours sleep and nightmares that would grey the hairs of some.
I look forward to an hour of terror.
Where i contemplate getting up to sleep next to her to ease the pain.
Where i will try to comfort myself that it was just a dream, and remember reality, and remember that it is not that much better than the dream.
I start feeling that my heart might stop.
That i might not get through the night.
I wonder if dying would a solution.
I remind myself that i am happy by day, and that this is not rational.
I yearn for the day where i am not so afraid.
I wonder how i will get through the next few hours to sunlight, to safety.
It's 5:00am.
I know that sunlight is near.
I calm down enough to sleep.
I sleep.
I snooze the alarm 4 times and drag myself out of bed an hour late.
I have slept 4 hours in total, for the tenth day in a row.
Except for the weekends. I can sleep in on the weekends.
But it's ok, it's daytime, and i am good at the day time.
I can get through the day where my daily duties distract me from the pain.
I consider taking a valium at night before i sleep.
I discard that thought, as i discard the thought of therapy and many other thoughts.
If only i could get through the nights.
If only i could get through the nights.