So I haven't blogged in a few months, I know...
But I guess I'm in Beirut right now or to be more specific Khalde(Abu Deeb street)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Khalde
Everything just seemed to have happened so fast,I was just packing my bags a few hours ago, literally.The plane ride was a complete trance of nausea and sleeplessness, but to my satisfaction Dubai had some of the most convenient bathrooms I've seen at an airport yet..It was my first time taking a non stop flight, it was supposedly 15 hours but due to technical difficulties it was more like 18.I watched three Lebanese films, two which were directed by Marwan Najjar and of course the award winning, "Caramel".
When we finally arrived in Beirut, all of the passengers were dashing out of their seats, and the flight attendants were screeching for everyone to sit down.Regardless of how long one stays abroad in the diaspora, once you set foot back in Lebanon all boundaries are broken.
The airport was a tad bit of a disappointment for me there as there was no toilet paper, or paper towels! Right after our passports were stamped we had to get our bags searched.I didn't quite understand why and I told my dad to just go ahead and that it was unnecessary.But he went anyways and got in some sort of misunderstanding with the security.It was funny how he kept referring to my dad as "kareem". I felt as if we were in Sryia, no offense to any Syrians but your checkpoints are a living nightmare! And then as we were exiting the airport my bag got caught in the automatic turning glass door and it started beeping,I hope they dont have cameras.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Monday, February 02, 2009
it's official
2/2
12:12
I cried on my 18th birthday. I thought 17 was such a nice age. You're young enough to get away with things, but you're old enough, too ~ Liv Tyler
12:12
I cried on my 18th birthday. I thought 17 was such a nice age. You're young enough to get away with things, but you're old enough, too ~ Liv Tyler
Saturday, January 31, 2009
notes from the bus
Opening my keepsake box, reminiscing on the past...letters, postcards,ticket stubs, and photos.I find a particularly thought-provoking note.Two years ago... why had I waited so long to reply? There could have been more then a hundred and one reasons why I couldn't contact you.I should have let it go, but I decided to hold on.I feel sorry for what an unsentimental person you are.You have absolute zero knowledge on the essence of nostalgia.Your decaying memory is utterly despairing.
Once again my earnest intentions of a simple hello have been misinterpreted for harassment.
Hello is this " " ?
Who's asking?
Well I am just wondering if this was " " , that's all.If I have the wrong number please let me know.
How did you get my number and why are you calling me?
Well I was looking through some of my old papers and I found your number.
WHAT, when did I give you my number?
About two years ago on the bus.
So you're telling me that I gave you my number and after two years you decided to call me?
Yeah
I don't know why you are calling me or what the hell you want from me.First of all why would I take the bus if I have a car?
I don't know
What bus was this?
To " "
What did I look like then how tall was I?
Well I don't exactly remember I mean it was two years ago.Why don't you just save us both the trouble and tell me if your name is really " " or not.
background noises: Just tell her you're married
Here talk to my daughter
Once again my earnest intentions of a simple hello have been misinterpreted for harassment.
Hello is this " " ?
Who's asking?
Well I am just wondering if this was " " , that's all.If I have the wrong number please let me know.
How did you get my number and why are you calling me?
Well I was looking through some of my old papers and I found your number.
WHAT, when did I give you my number?
About two years ago on the bus.
So you're telling me that I gave you my number and after two years you decided to call me?
Yeah
I don't know why you are calling me or what the hell you want from me.First of all why would I take the bus if I have a car?
I don't know
What bus was this?
To " "
What did I look like then how tall was I?
Well I don't exactly remember I mean it was two years ago.Why don't you just save us both the trouble and tell me if your name is really " " or not.
background noises: Just tell her you're married
Here talk to my daughter
Friday, January 09, 2009
Coming of Age
I have been counting the days ... and today marks the end of the first week of the new year. Three weeks left until I am an adult ... a full fledged member of society. I will be 18.
As accustomed when a birthday proceeds to slither and lurk around, the typical questions are asked. My answer is freedom and respect.
So does my period of adolescence end once I turn 18? Do I began to take complete responsibility for my actions or do I still get an allowance of two more years to discover myself, considering that the particular suffix "teen" is still attached to me for a little while longer? I never had much of a fulfilling childhood and now my so called “teenage hood” is over as well .I’m rebelling.
I can’t conceive the idea that I actually started this blog three years ago. I often go back and read posts from the previous years and laugh, thinking how something of such frivolity could be of any importance. I am always tempted to delete them but then I pause… and let them be. I keep them there to see my progression throughout time, I suppose. I want to change the name of my blog and the layout. I have been debating this for months now.
It's been a while since I have really written anything... Could be writers block, possibly loss of confidence, or post partum depression. Maybe even a bit of bi polar or borderline personality disorder. I just love to label myself.I have more than I can bear to hold in one palm to reflect upon. I seem to be at ease with my expression via short stories.
People have accused me of being evasive or a communist because I usually jump and plunge from topic to topic. But they cannot apprehend or even began to perceive what is in my head. They do not know that my thoughts are overflowing and tend to accidently spill, dripping leaving trails of my presence and aspirations.The past few years of my life have consisted of complete obsession with marriage and other sort of explorations that shall not be named (hint starts with the letter "s").
I have made a compromise to postpone marriage for a few years but I will not postpone my education as well. I’ll be willing to forget about marriage for a while if you allow me to drown in an endless pool of books, reading and only coming to the shallow surface for a breath of air.
You accuse me of wanting to grow up too fast. I know what I want from life and I’m going to get it, that’s all it really is. Some things have become more or less of a priority for me. Maybe my ultra passive personality has forced me to have an aggressive outlook on life. I can change my mind as I please, so I am kindly asking you not to interfere with my changes. “A wise man changes his mind, a fool never”
Being Arab has never felt so arbitrary for me. I’m not losing my religion I just refuse to associate myself with sectarianistic ideologies and live off an illusion called Arab nationalism.
I hear the news in the background
As accustomed when a birthday proceeds to slither and lurk around, the typical questions are asked. My answer is freedom and respect.
So does my period of adolescence end once I turn 18? Do I began to take complete responsibility for my actions or do I still get an allowance of two more years to discover myself, considering that the particular suffix "teen" is still attached to me for a little while longer? I never had much of a fulfilling childhood and now my so called “teenage hood” is over as well .I’m rebelling.
I can’t conceive the idea that I actually started this blog three years ago. I often go back and read posts from the previous years and laugh, thinking how something of such frivolity could be of any importance. I am always tempted to delete them but then I pause… and let them be. I keep them there to see my progression throughout time, I suppose. I want to change the name of my blog and the layout. I have been debating this for months now.
It's been a while since I have really written anything... Could be writers block, possibly loss of confidence, or post partum depression. Maybe even a bit of bi polar or borderline personality disorder. I just love to label myself.I have more than I can bear to hold in one palm to reflect upon. I seem to be at ease with my expression via short stories.
People have accused me of being evasive or a communist because I usually jump and plunge from topic to topic. But they cannot apprehend or even began to perceive what is in my head. They do not know that my thoughts are overflowing and tend to accidently spill, dripping leaving trails of my presence and aspirations.The past few years of my life have consisted of complete obsession with marriage and other sort of explorations that shall not be named (hint starts with the letter "s").
I have made a compromise to postpone marriage for a few years but I will not postpone my education as well. I’ll be willing to forget about marriage for a while if you allow me to drown in an endless pool of books, reading and only coming to the shallow surface for a breath of air.
You accuse me of wanting to grow up too fast. I know what I want from life and I’m going to get it, that’s all it really is. Some things have become more or less of a priority for me. Maybe my ultra passive personality has forced me to have an aggressive outlook on life. I can change my mind as I please, so I am kindly asking you not to interfere with my changes. “A wise man changes his mind, a fool never”
Being Arab has never felt so arbitrary for me. I’m not losing my religion I just refuse to associate myself with sectarianistic ideologies and live off an illusion called Arab nationalism.
I hear the news in the background
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