A Conversation with Tubby – 7

He sat there, side-eying me with a sly smile. I tried to ignore him but you can only ignore silent gloating for so long; so I gathered every bit of anger and ferociousness I could find in me and then paused to let them simmer for a moment for the perfect defense mechanism…

Me: Stop with the stupid smile, I get it, you’re pleased, you had it your way, happy now?

Tubby: Why so tense? Relax. I’m just happy for you

Me: Oh, of course you are, you just thrive on seeing me do things against my better judgment

Tubby: Only when it makes you feel better

Me: It did make me feel better. Then it made me feel like crap, and then it made me feel better again, you know why? Because things didn’t go as you planned, thank God.

Tubby: That’s the whole point, you did something differently, you ventured out of your comfort zone, you expressed your anger, blew off some steam…

Me: Hold on there. It’s not expressing anger that made me feel good. That made me feel good for a couple of minutes, maybe hours, but it was really just a quick fix. What made me feel eventually better, I must say, is that the whole thing helped me move on to a new phase after I was stuck in one phase for too long.

Tubby: You’re welcome! What can I say, someone had to give you a push. After all who gets stuck in denial for that long

Me: sigh… I know, this was a nice reality check. The anger phase wasn’t too bad, bargaining was confusing, depression sucked but thank God I didn’t linger there for too long and I resisted the temptation to fight it off with chocolate. Acceptance is pretty cool. But you know what the problem is?

Tubby: I think I might have an idea…

Me: shut up, it’s a rhetorical question. See, I’m aware of the fact that I don’t just want to feel better, I want the things that make me feel bad to change. I don’t want to bask in acceptance so much that I’d get comfortable in it. I accept it but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to change it.

Tubby: Well, I can feel the change already

Me: Baby steps. Hopefully pretty soon I will have no need for you and you will vanish

Tubby: You can’t do that. You can’t just kick me out of your life like that

Me: Don’t underestimate my powers

Tubby: I’m not. But you can try. Actually I will go away and you will never hear from me again and let’s see how that works for you

Me: No… I mean, yes totally, but leave me some contact info so I can call you if I need you, maybe?

…….

………..

…………..

Tubby?

The Ultimate Business Dictionary

Disclaimer: to all the good people/companies I’ve worked or still working with, you know this is not aimed at you, no need to sever any ties

 

You know how sometimes different words seem to mean different things for different people? Specifically in the world of business, sometimes it appears as though there is some special dictionary some people refer to when doing business with other people. So, I imagine if there was such a dictionary it would probably have entries like this…

 

Freelancer [n.] A person who works for free. The word comes from the idiom “free as a bird” as they are free form the constraints of the capitalist world and basically live on love and leftover bread. Hence, a freelancer would never have a loan to pay off, they don’t need to eat, they don’t pay rents, so anything you give them in exchange of their work would be out of generosity.

Deadline [n.] 1) for business owners: A fictional legendary monster that will eat you alive if you don’t deliver on time. 2) For employees: An imaginary concept made-up by business owners to make your life miserable. If the word dead is any indication, there’s no hurry, it’s not going anywhere. The living is more important than the dead.

 

Entrepreneur [n.] Anyone who can describe themselves as such, regardless of their ability to spell the world itself. In Jordan they are basically like Kia Sepias, you find one between every other 2 cars.

 

Social Media Marketing [n.] Bombarding people with materials related to your company that even you wouldn’t  give a dead rat’s tail if you weren’t paid to and doing it every day until they wish they never knew you even existed.

 

Facebook [n.] An evil website that is designed to distract your employees and prevent them from doing their job, because otherwise nothing in the world could distract them from their fun and exciting work behind the computer screen.

 

And it goes on…

Untouchable

There’s a certain heartache when you’re standing at the shore, with the mountains of Palestine in full view, knowing they are forbidden for you of all people to touch.

There’s a certain confusion, a mix of anger and sickness that takes over you when you try to make a call and suddenly a strange  automated response in Hebrew goes on with what seems like utter gibberish to your ears. You just wish the man on the phone could hear you so you can tell him that you’re still in Jordanian territory, regardless of what your mobile network thinks, the same mobile network that moments ago welcomed you to “Israel” with a message few minutes ago, then welcomed you back to Jordan few minutes later.

There’s a certain urge to set sail, cross that lake void of life to reach that other shore, without permission from anyone, just to make sure it is still there as a tangible reality, a land like any land in a away, yet different from them all in every other way…

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What Happens in Marrakech…

So I’ve finally been to Marrakech, one city I’ve always wanted to visit, a very lively city with so many contradictions, a bit chaotic but it seems to be working out for them just fine. A unique city in its own way, and I thoroughly enjoyed being in a totally different Arab culture than my own, actually I suspect that is one reason I felt I was way out of my comfort zone, for I’ve never missed home like I did this time, in addition to the fact that I was very conscious of the physical distance and how much time and jet-lag it could take to get there. Actually the trip from Jordan to Morocco was something, especially the connection flight from Rome to Casablanca, here’s the picture: imagine a plane full of Arabs and Israeli Jews, I mean, if you were allowed to carry a knife on board you could’ve cut the tension with it. Boy do we Semites make each other uncomfortable! Well, at least nobody tried to kick me out of my seat and settle on it. And the cherry on the top of it all: An Italian crew. I mean, have you ever seen a plane that starts landing with people standing and moving around? Have I gotten into a public transportation bus to Napoli by mistake?

So, the reason I was in Marrakech was to participate in the women bloggers network meeting. I’ve participated in 3 previous meetings with this network and each time I come out from it having made new friends, met inspiring beautiful people and learned a whole lot. This time was no exception as I’ve had the chance to meet amazing women, some of whom I’ve met before and was delighted to catch up with again and others who I was meeting for the first time, and no matter how much you might disagree with them on certain subjects you cannot but admire and respect their courage and dedication, whether they were developing and running their own projects, fighting for women’s rights and freedom of expression, building their careers, etc. The most beautiful thing is that you get to connect with people on a human level, regardless of everything else, which puts to rest the myth that any woman hates every other woman unless it’s Oprah. The fact is, I was inspired and encouraged to start working on something I have never ever considered doing, but being among such a diverse and amazing group of people can give you a huge push and make you explore new possibilities. So it turns out that what happens in Merrakech actually goes way beyond Marrakech…

Back to Marrakech, as I said it’s a beautiful city, I recommend that you add it to your bucket list, and if you’re from the Estern part of the Arab world you might want to take it easy on the Moroccan food, trust me, it might be nice to have it every once in a while and it’s absolutely delicious but to live on it for more than 3 days in a row would probably make you don’t want to have it again for the rest of your life, our stomachs are not conditioned not to have rice on regular basis or to sprinkle sugar on our lunch, but of course if you’re in Marrakech you have to try all that because it’s all part of experiencing the city and the culture, so suck it up and deal with the upset stomach.

A Beautiful city and an interesting culture mean lots of pictures too, enjoy

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Money Talks?

The other morning Ghazal, my 5 year-old niece had some sort of a costume day at school so she  donned her princess dress, complete with the wreath and everything, and apparently there was some sort of activity they have to pay for as it always is with her school, which is a good school but a very materialistic one as they already pay an arm and a leg for the tuition fees and then they keep paying throughout the year for the activities held by the school. Anyway, her mom gave her 6 JDs that she was supposed to give to the teacher, but I’m guessing there was some sort of misunderstanding because what happened is that Ghazal gave 5 JDs to the teacher, as for the remainging 1 JD she decided for some reason to do this:

Now, I’m not sure what happened, but I have a couple of theories. The first is that Ghazal had to give only 5 JDs to the teacher, and when she found that she still had 1 JD she perhaps thought “Why, I don’t need that,  I’ll just go ahead and tear it to shreds”. Of course I immediately tried to defend her so that she wouldn’t be punished, I said that she’s just a kid and she doesn’t know the value of money. But then I thought: Maybe what she did indicates that she actually does know the real value of money. I mean, what if, instead of tearing the 1 JD bill apart she gave it so one of her friends? I mean, it was useless to her, and money is good when  you have a use for it, while if you don’t then it’s better to give it to someone who needs it. Maybe she got the basics right, she just needs to know how to go about it. You know, I once thought that a good idea to teach a kid the value of helping others is for example when you get some change after dong some shopping with  your kid and if that change consists of shiny coints or if you have brand new bills fresh out of the bank you can tell your kid that since this money look so fresh and shiny you should go donate it to the needy, just some thought I had, ut apparently that doesn’t make a difference for Ghazal because the one JD bill she tore apart was quite a nice piece of paper.

It’s fascinating though, when you think of it. I mean, money is after all just paper, printed under strict laws and conditions and in limited amounts apparently but still, paper. And yet wars are waged over it, family ties are severed, people are killed, etc. It has to be the most symoblic thing on earth if you know what I mean, all that value in a colorful piece of paper. Like when you buy a car, a Mercedes Benz or something, after all you’re getting this awesomely designed genius invention for a heap of… paper.

Anyway, my other theory for why Ghazal tore that bill apart is that she hears voices in her head, you know, mysterious impulses to do crazy stuff for no good reason, like I used to have when I was around her age: like neice like aunt.

إيمتى رح نبطل متخلفين؟

الموضوع مش فيل قاعد بزاوية الغرفة وعاملين حالنا مش شايفينه، أظن صار من الواضح خلال السنوات الأخيرة إنه احنا بشكل عام، ورغم وجود نسبة من المتنورين، أمة متخلفة.00

السؤال: متى رح نبطل متخلفين؟

الجواب:0

لما يكون ولاءنا مبني على مصلحة البلد اللي عايشين فيها والناس اللي عايشين معهم، مش على أساس المنطقة اللي جد جدنا انولد فيها

لما نصير نحكم على الناس من خلال تعاملنا معهم مش على أساس وين جد جده انولد (كمان) أو الديانة المكتوبة على هويته

لما تروح على دائرة حكومية بدون ما “تسأل عن فلان الفلاني” عشان يزبطك

لما الواحد يبعت ابنه عالجامعة بدون ما يعطيه تعليمات بالابتعاد عن المشاكل والطوش لأنه ما في طوش أصلاً في “منارات العلم” وبدون ما يحذره من المشاركة في أي احتجاج أو مظاهرة حتى لو ضد إسرائيل أو الشيطان نفسه عشان ما “تصير عليه نقطة سودا”0

لما الواحد يتخرج من الجامعة وهو حاسس حاله إنسان جديد غير اللي كان قبل 4 سنين ومعلوماته زادت بنسبة 100% في مجاله

لما الواحد يصير يفرح بالمولود البنت زي ما بيفرح بالولد

لما نبطل نخلف ونزت الاولاد يتربوا بالشوارع أو مع الشغالات

لما نبطل نتعامل مع اولادنا كإنهم ممتلكات شخصية

لما نبطل نقول “الزواج زي البطيخة” الزواج إشي والبطيخ إشي مختلف تماماً

لما نبطل نعمل النصيب شماعة نعلق عليها عواقب قراراتنا السيئة. النصيب على عيني وراسي، بس ربنا أعطانا عقل عشان نقدر نختار نصيبنا

لما نبطل نحكم عالإنسان من نوع موبايله أو سيارته أو إذا كانت أواعيه ماركات أو لأ

لما يبطل الموضوع الأساسي اللي بنتسلى فيه بقعداتنا هو شللان عرض الناس، (العقول العظيمة تناقش الأفكار، العقول المتوسطة تناقش الأحداث، العقول البسيطة تناقش الناس)

لما البنت تقدر تقدم على وظيفة بدون ما تخاف تنرفض عشانها محجبة

لما تصير البنت تمشي في الشارع بدون ما تسمع تعليقات سخيفة، ولما يبطلوا المتحرشين يفكروا التحرش حق طبيعي، ولما يصير المجتمع بحاسب الرجال على غض البصر زي ما بحاسب المرأة على طريقة لبسها

لما سواقين السيارات في الشوارع يبطلوا يفكروا إنه بطلعلهم يعملوا اللي بدهم إياه ولو كان في تعدي على أولويات غيرهم

لما يصير الواحد يصف سيارته زي البشر، مش ياخد محل سيارتين عشان هو حر

لما نبطل نستخدم كلمة “منغولي” وخاصة لما نستخدمها كمسبة

لما نبطل نحكي عن كل شغالة “سيريلانكية” ونبطل نعتبر الشغالة عبدة اشتريناها بفلوسنا

لما نفرق بين “العيب” و”الحرام”

من باب التفاؤل ممكن نقول إنه إن شاء الله إذا بنشتغل على الجيل الجديد مزبوط ممكن خلال 40 50 60 سنة بس يموت الجيل الموجود حالياً… ممكن، بركي، احتمال نبطل متخلفين

The Tale of the Cake

This has been long overdue; I finally decided to take up a new hobby: cooking. Well, to give you a little background I’ve always known that I loved cooking, not only because I love food, actually I used to have this notion that if you cook it you won’t enjoy it, I prefer to have people cook for me, so it’s not about the love of food it’s more like the art of cooking itself, it is something you can be quite creative with. I remember what one of my favorite professors at university once said, she was a very elegant, cultured and well-educated woman and a women rights advocate and what not, and she said that with all her academic success and achievements, when she makes a dish that is so delicious she feels like she’s earned a higher education degree, or something to that effect.

So, I love cooking, I enjoy cooking, it’s just that my previous experiences weren’t very encouraging and at times epic failures so I gave it up and convinced myself that it is something I can’t do. But then I realized, if everybody else can then why can’t I? In fact, the problem with my previous cooking endeavors was that I tried to improvise, and as it turned out it’s not very wise to improvise in something you know almost nothing about. S, I decided to go by the book, looked up some easy recipes and decided to make a cake.

You see, a friend told me it’s better to start with easy desserts and move up the scale from there. I also like baking more than cooking itself, I guess. The problem was I’ve never lit an oven in my life, not comfortable with them, I feel like they’re going to explode and take my eyebrows away. But of course I need to get over that, hopefully it won’t be an obstacle.

So, baking it is. I looked up this recipe on the internet, and may I say that there are some fantastic facebook pages with easy step by step recipes, with pictures too. It’s nice to see facebook pages serving a purpose instead of just making up stupid stuff to collect likes and fans. Anyway, back to the cake. The cake I made was Blackberry and milk cake. My first cake to make from scratch (Actually I’ve made one when I was at school but my mom walked me through it and she did the whisking and stuff so that doesn’t count). So before I go through the steps let me lay out the ingredients I used, I played with the measurements to make a bigger cake since I was taking it to the family gathering at Grandma’s.

 

3 cups of flour

2 cups of sugar

150 grams of butter (that is one and a half sticks) update: that was too much butter, use 50 or 75 grams

1 and a half cups of liquid milk

3 eggs

A sprinkle of vanilla

A pinch of salt

1 and a half tea spoons of baking powder

Blackberries (or strawberries, or blueberries, whatever floats your boat)

 

So, I got all the ingredient out on the table, 30-minute meals style, you know watching cooking shows gives you some pointers, not that I watch any, it’s just that I translate them. Actually at first I realized I was going too slow and thought that wouldn’t work, I should be fast, Rachel Ray’s fast –another cooking shows influence- there’s a certain energy about her that I like, makes you feel like she’s cooking at home not on TV and h=the way she eyeballs everything and just pours things down and throws in chunks of ingredients and cheese like there’s no tomorrow. But again she doesn’t bake, and we’re taking about baking here, so preheat the oven to 400 degrees and back to that.

So, I put the butter and the sugar in the pot and put them on low heat to melt slowly. At the first glance I was a bit skeptical whether the sugar will start to caramelize or even burn before the butter melts, it looks that way, but as soon as the butter starts melting you get that amazing texture and color and once you add the vanilla, which I was quite generous with not just a sprinkle, you get that delicious smell that makes you feel this would be enough, you can just stop here and you got yourself a dessert. Then of course the milk, I used low fat milk because when you’re using that amount of butter you might want to cut down on the saturated fat a bit.

In a separate bowl, I mixed 3 cups of flours, using the same cup I used to measure the sugar, you can’t go wrong using the same cup –hopefully- and then I added the baking powder and a pinch of salt to balance the sweetness out. Then I started to add the dry ingredients to the butter mixture, in batches of course, and I kind of panicked a little because it was a bit lumpy, but then I remembered we had a magical instrument called the electric whisk, and there was a smooth silky delicious cake batter (after lifting it off the heat of course). So that was kind of reassuring, you know, if the batter tastes good then hopefully the cake itself will taste good too.

After that I poured the batter into a pan, needless to say I enlisted my mother’s help at several stages like to decide which pan to use and how hot the oven should be, and she lit the oven I have to say not because I wouldn’t do it but I think she didn’t want to take the risk of her new kitchen blowing up.

After pouring the batter into the pan I put the blackberries on top. The original recipe had strawberries but I thought blackberries are more interesting, not to mention that they have a nice tang. You can use either fresh or canned ones, I used the canned ones because I like the moisturizing effect of the syrup and as you may know fresh blackberries are ridiculously expensive here and they don’t taste as good as they look. If I may make a disclaimer here, I thought the blackberries would sink to the bottom but they didn’t, had I known that I might have done a better job esthetically.

Now into the oven, I must say it didn’t give that amazing cake aroma that fills the house when my mom bakes a cake but it’s a different kind of cake, I guess that’s because I didn’t use any lemon or orange zest.

I want also to point out that in the course of writing this post I got excited and got up and made quick chocolate fudge. Well, I discovered that being excited about cooking makes you don’t feel like eating, I didn’t have lunch today, so there. But I also think I might be trying to fill a certain void here, this has gone a bit far… but I’m enjoying it, no need for philosophy now.

So, here is the final product. Looks good, no? And it tasted great too

There was a little problem though, it was a bit undercooked. Well, it was really undercooked to be perfectly honest, I think I just had to use a hotter oven, that was the mistake. I admit I was disappointed and it really make me feel bad, like a failure, which is ridiculous as it’s just a cake, but the thing is it’s really not, I actually thought of writing a post called “the psychology behind  a cake” after that. To tell you the truth for a moment there I was like: “I’d better stick to writing” which made me think that maybe I got interested in cooking because I’m not doing much writing these days, I mean, other than my blog there’s nothing, so maybe that was it, and when the cake failed me I felt like I had nothing which is ridiculous. And yes, I can write and cook at the same time. And that’s just part of the things I concluded after that baking experience, but I’m over it now, maybe I’ll try again sometime later in sha’a Allah. Why do I have to philosophize everything? Why can’t I accept that life could be simple sometimes, and that it is just a cake? A freaking undercooked blackberry cake?

P.S: If at any point you planned to make the “isn’t there an iPhone cake too?” joke then please save it, I’ve already heard it twice!

Update: I think the cake didn’t rise because I used too much butter

 

A Conversation with Tubby – 6

He sat in the corner, curled up in a fetal position, looking exceptionally sad. The poor thing always looked sad and withdrawn but this time it was at an alarming level that it was very hard to dismiss. Actually, in retrospect, I think he made a point of making me feel obliged to ask, knowing fully well that if I could deal with the guilt of ignoring such a carefully designed scene, my curiosity would spiral out of control. And so it happened…

Me: Hey, why the long face?

Tubby [with a feeble voice]: I’m bored

Me: is that it? Well, go check out the memory closet, knock yourself out. Check 1993, that was an interesting year.

Tubby: No, thank you. The boredom I’m suffering isn’t something your third grade memories can cure.

Me [sitting up straight and assuming a more serious look]: What’s this about? This isn’t just boredom, come on, tell me.

Tubby: Well, I’m not sure you’d understand

Me: I can’t promise you that but at least Ii can try to

Tubby: Okay… I’ve been… feeling… as of late… a little bit…

Me: Aha?

Tubby: lonely

Me: hahahaha Oh good old Tubby! You’ve gone soft

Tubby: See? You’re making fun of me. I shouldn’t have told you

Me: Oh no, sorry. You feel lonely, that’s totally understandable. Now, how can I help you?

Tubby: Well, maybe if you can get me some company…

Me: Company? What am I doing here?

Tubby: Not you. You’re a human, always busy with your human stuff. I live inside your head alone. I need someone of my own kind… A girl

Me: Tubby you realize that at your astronomical age asking for a girl makes you a pedofile

Tubby: Oh shucks! A woman… and I promise I’ll be good to her. I’ll spoil her, and cherish her and…

Me: Hold on there. Tubby, I’m sure millions of women would kill to fill such a coveted position. I mean, it’s you, a 100+ year-old man with white exploding hair receding to the sides of your head and the cutest gaps between every other tooth… yeah, that should be a piece of cake, I’ll just snap my fingers and your fairy princess will be her

Tubby: When have you become so shallow? I know I’m not exactly a sight for the sore eyes but ugly people need love too. I don’t care how old is she or how she looks, she can’t complain about me being a beast if she wasn’t a beauty herself. Haven’t you seen Shrek?

Me: Well, Tubby, it’s just that I’m not sure she will deserve you. What if she breaks your heart? I don’t have the time or the energy to nurse your wounds

Tubby: Why would she? She will be a figment of your imagination, just like me, you can control here

Me: No, forget it, I won’t have two love birds singing around inside my head. I have more important things to focus on

Tubby: Oh I get it. You’re jealous

Me: What? You worthless piece of rubbish, how dare you? Why on earth would I be jealous of you?

Tubby: Because I’m capable of human feelings that you’re not capable of

Me: You’re not even human

Tubby: My point exactly

Me: you better season your words mister because you might have to eat them later on. I’m perfectly capable of these whatever human feelings you’re talking about. As a matter of fact I have abundant amounts of love and what not that I don’t know what to do with, honestly I can just lend you some of that to solve your problem

Tubby: Really? Define “love”

Me: Well, it’s too general a concept…

Tubby: No, the specific meaning for which I’m asking you to find me company

Me: Okay, let’s see… It’s a condition characterized by the singling out a human being out of the whole earth population that suddenly you worry about that person and you crave their attention, it becomes like oxygen you know except you don’t want to share it with everyone. It’s also being aware of that person’s special qualities as well as their needs and being sensitive to them, so it’s not just what they say about butterflies and all these stupid hormonal side effects. It’s that feeling that everything you do or say is connected one way or another to that particular someone. Of course that’s the theoretical part to it, because it is not just a feelings or a myriad of feelings, it’s also the set of actions based on those feelings, like respecting the other person, making compromises, trying to make each other happy, you know. You can’t say you love someone if you ridicule them at every chance you get or shout at them day and night. Now, if reciprocated this condition could lead to that certain someone becoming the only one of their kind, they seem almost indispensable. But of course it only feels like it because nobody is indispensable.

Tubby: God! That felt like you were reading from an encyclopedia. What are you, a robot?

Me: Shut up, you wouldn’t give such an answer in a million years you dim-wit

Tubby: of course, because it’s not a mathematical equation.

Me: Well, maybe it is. You see, that’s why I can’t help you fulfill your wish, because I can define it but I can’t reproduce that feeling, I don’t know how it feels, the whole reciprocated fulfilling thing. And there’s no shame in it, it’s perfectly okay, not everyone will have that and not everyone is worthy of it, no? However, I have a good suggestion for you

Tubby [discouraged]: What?

Me: Go to sleep and maybe you’ll dream about it. I mean, I was reading that dreams are wish fulfillments, even the dreams that distress you, they fulfill a wish one way or another. Freud believed that and I tend to agree with him on that regard, I just hope that wasn’t his “medicinal” cocaine speaking

Tubby: you mean even when I dream about being chased by a bear?

Me: Yeah. Even the dream I had two days ago about me being accused of murdering a Syrian actor, who’s already dead by the way, and my father wanting to turn me in to the police and then me planning to escape but not before writing a book about that actor. It was a horrible dream but when I analyzed it I found that it was fulfilling a certain wish I had.

Tubby: the wish to kill an already dead Syrian actor?

Me: Of course not, silly! Dreams can be “disguised” fulfillment of “suppressed” wishes. It meant something to me and it’s none of your business.

Tubby: Even if I dream about it, the feeling of fulfillment will evaporate as soon as I wake up and I will feel even worse

Me: yeah… I really wish I can help you buddy but… please, stop this nonsense. What happened to our interesting conversations?

Tubby?

Tubby?

Don’t you disappear on me…

A dose of Excitement

I just love it when exciting things happen unexpectedly, totally out of the blue, or kind of.

The first exciting encounter I had was 2 days ago. I was at my cousin’s place and she told me that her husband’s uncle, who passed away 3 years ago and who was an avid reader/writer/translator, had left a large number of books and his wife wants to give them away, she doesn’t want them to just sit there stagnant, not if someone can read them and make use of them. So she said I could go down to the basement, where the books were and pick whatever I wanted. Can you imagine going into a place with things you like and being told to pick whatever you want and take it away with you? A child in a candy shop! Yes it’s exciting, but I hadn’t realized how exciting it was until I actually was in the middle of that treasure vault.

I can think of several ways to express this but let’s just say this: mounds and mounds of books stacked on shelves and inside cabinets, books of all genres, history, politics, literature, Arabic, English, old, new… I’m telling you, less than half an hour there and I felt like I was losing my mind, of course I could’ve spent more time if I was willing to be a little bit more rude and selfish as my cousin was freezing so I had to cut it short, leaving with around 10 books only but I told the lady of the house that I know people who can make good use of them and can take the whole quantity, those are none-other than the guys at Inkitab of course.

The highlight of it all was when I picked a poetry book by Mourid Barghouti and as I opened it I found a dedication to the late owner of this library, Salah huzayyen, calling him his dear friend. So I was standing there in the legacy of a man I’ve never met, with a part of him still hiding between the pages of these books. Now if that’s not emotional I don’t know what is.

So, I took the books home and I realized I have no way to put them, and I started thinking that I really need a new room, which leads me to the other exciting thing which took place less than 24 hours later. We’re moving! Yes, suddenly we found a new house and we’re moving by the end of this week in sha’a Allah. And it’s quite exciting for me because I’ve been living in the same house for the past 25 years. Now we have to pack our things and go through them to decide what to take and what to leave, it’s like a personal inventory. Although we’re moving within the same area, actually the new house is 2 blocks away, but I still think it’s going to be a hopefully good change as the new house is much different and bigger than our current house, and I’m actually happy that we’re staying in the same area because I really like it, it’s quiet and cozy and we know the people here.

So that’s pretty much it, it’s an interesting time, hope everything goes well

My Best Friend’s Wedding

I always say I am a lousy friend. Thankfully this, I’m so blessed to have some of the most beautiful people in the world as friends, and blessed yet more that I can easily name 4 or 5 people as best friends, those who put up with my apathy and schizophrenia over the years, and those who I can go for weeks without calling or seeing them, with everyone being busy with their own lives and the different paths we chose, yet when I see them it’s like we’ve had dinner together the night before, nothing has changed.

In the course of my life I’ve married off some of my best friends, most of them actually, and each time there would be these mixed feelings, you know, joy and disbelief at how much we’ve grown up and how far we’ve come. You know, I’d be happy, very happy – despite my reservations sometimes but let’s not get into that, I’ve learned to be supportive- but tonight, it’s different. You see, tonight I feel like it’s my little sister who’s getting married, a sister I;ve met only seven years ago and now she’s all grown up and ready to tie the knot. This is what I realized two days ago when I was at her pre-wedding party, the kind of parties I tend to avoid but this time I really wanted to be there, and it all made sense when I looked at her and had that moment of pure, utter joy, and I then realized how much this person means to me and how happy it makes me to see her happy.

Now, I’m not usually a fan of weddings but I’m actually looking forward to this one. My best friend’s wedding, now I realize the movie under that name didn’t make it justice, it shouldn’t be about a girl going to the wedding of her best male friend bent on ruining it because she’s in love with him, that’s sick. A best friend’s wedding is one of the most emotional celebrations you can attend. I don’t remember being so excited about a wedding, not even my sister’s. I have to admit I’m also eager to try on these new shoes I bought yesterday, I know they’re going to kill me and but it’s okay, I can handle high heels for a couple of hours. At least I figured out one part of the problem: I used to wear 38 size heels, which were half to one size too big for my feet, hence it was a struggle to walk in them. Now I bought 37 size one, still not comfortable but at least I won’t look like I’m trying too hard.

So, Sarah, I wish you all the happiness your heart can take. W 3o2bal 3end your best friends everyone!