All the Hydrogen in the World

Humpalicious

2007-01-03T17:08:00.000+02:00

There's something wrong with my computer at work. Every time I open the page i get numbers instead of words. The whole screen is covered with these tiny little figures on top of each other. They look like little ants humping. Actually they look like little ants frozen in place after being caught humping. Cute. Mostly.

BUT... I would like to check out my blog from work. I can post ( I happen to be at work right now), but I can't read anything I've written. Call me egocentric (actually please don't), but I like reading my blog after I've posted a new entry. It makes me feel ultra-cool. One day I might even start commenting on my own entries and having one sided debates with myself. Cute. Maybe.

In A Little While

2007-01-02T22:46:00.000+02:00

It's been a while. I had so much to say, and then suddenly..the well ran dry. Or maybe i just lost interest.

2007 is supposed to be massive for me. Maggie Farah said so herself :0. I'm a Cancer you see, and we're in for something big. I'm hopeful. I've had some amazing things happen to me, and some real shit moments. All in all 2006 was good. Maggie Farah was right about that, so I'm thinking she must be right about this year. All's good in rock n' roll. Whatever.

Anyway, updates. I'm totally in L. Love, like.. the works. It feels good. I'm getting a paycut at work if things keep going down the drain here in Beirut. I'll cope. I mostly like work. Like the people, the boss, the work itself. It's too bad they're turning the country into a ginormous shitpile. Too bad indeed.

We had a mini HNY party at the office this afternoon. The big boss asked each one of us what we wished for this new year. I couldn't come up with a single thing. I don't make wished anymore you see. I just hope for the best and see what happens. It takes a lot less effort, and makes you less aware of your unhappiness. Not that I'm unhappy or anything, but if I am, I'm just not aware of it. Not too bad, eh?

I'll just wait and see what happens in a little while.

HNY everybody.

My best friend's (a) girl

2006-06-13T09:35:00.000+03:00

So my best friend is moving to Qatar by the end of the month. The implications are as follows:

1. My life is to fall apart (automatically)
2. The voice of reason and logic at my disposal will no longer be available
3. My nag/cry buddy will be gone
4. The glue in my relationship will slowly begin to crack
5. I will fall apart at the seams

FRINDS FOREVER NAMA.
I love you.

Sound familiar?

2006-06-06T13:03:00.000+03:00

The Cynics, members of a school of Greek philosophers dating from the 4th century BC, believed that civilization was an artificial, unnatural state that should be held in contempt.

All the best, A.

2006-06-02T09:41:00.000+03:00

I opened my inbox the other day to find what I can probably call the oddest email I've ever received. Let me give you a little background info. I went out with this guy (we'll call him A.) for around 3 years on and off. It was an "I'm young and think I'm in love" kind of relationship that ended up breaking my heart and opening my eyes to the way relationships really work. A., you see, after moving to America, starting becoming a little over zealous about his religious beliefs and that put me in situation after situation where my moral principles were questioned and the goodness of my heart was not so apparent anymore. To him, that is. It's the sort of thing I look back on and think "what the???". But that was over 2 years ago and I've since moved on to better things.

So I'm checking my email and I find an email from A. Last thing I expected let me tell you, and this is what I got to reading:

Salaam Rasha,
I hope this email finds you doing great. I pray that everything is
going great for you in-terms of work, family, friends and anything you
are pursuing right now. I just wanted to mention that I have NO
regrets whatsoever, and how would I as a result of meeting a great
honest and sincere person like you? Although I'm not happy with every
single choice I made, I do know that overall I have learned from this
experience and can actually be a better person as a result of it
insha'Allah. Be sure that these years have gone a long way in shaping
the Ahmad of today, and I am thankful to you for showing me countless
virtues at their exemplary form. For any negativity you see when you
look back at those few months, I ask your forgiveness, as I'm sure
that, like me, you embrace your past in effort to become the Rasha
that you are now and the Rasha you will be in your hopefully
successful, joyful, healthy, and happy future insha'Allah. May Allah
grant you all your wishes and reward you with a successful career that
you deserve and I know will work hard to earn.

All the best,
A.

Upon reading this little piece of literature, I didn't know how to react. I wanted to laugh, I wanted to tell him to fuck off, and I wanted to tell him that I too have no regrets. I did none. I till don't know how o react. I keep wondering why he sent this email. Is he trying to make amends because he has a guilty conscience? He really did screw me over at the time. His reason for our last and final break up was that he wasn’t ready for a commitment (believe me I wasn’t ready for a commitment either). Lo and behold, he was engaged to be married to a conservative, veiled young lady 4 months later. Whatever.

My take on this is as follows:
I belive that A. is following some religious cleansing program, sort of like AA but for those of us who have found God and decided to devote their lives to Him. Some sheikh probably told him that he has to undo whatever harm he’s done in his past. I’d really like to help but I can’t get myself to forget that his actions, as juvenile as they had been, did leave me bitter and angry though they did make me realize my self worth (maybe a little too much).

What bothers me the most, however, is that just like those years we were together he continues to make me feel guilty. After screwing me over time and again, he thinks he has the right to take the moral high ground and send such a sneaky email. Whatever. Maybe I'm reading too much into this, but he hurt me at a time when I was very vulnerable and I can't forget that. At a time when my friends were having problems with their boyfriends about stupid shit, I had to prove that, just because I wasn't as religious as he was, I was still a good person. On several occasions he said that I was the one thing preventing him from a becoming a virtuous person. Just what every girl wants to hear. Young love, eh?

In any case, I don’t know if I can say that I regret those 3 long years I spent with A.

BUT…I can say that it was a waste of my time and youth. All the best, A.

HIM

2006-04-23T00:34:00.000+03:00

I miss having happy thoughts. I haven't been happy in a while. I've laughed, had good times and enjoyed myself. But I haven't been happy in ages. I'm surprised really. I think something's wrong. I don't think it's normal when I've spent the past 2 days in my room alternating between the same 2 songs for hours at a time. I miss being happy.

I don't know how to deal with things sometimes. With people specifically. It's really hard when when you first meet someone you think they're one type of person, but then as your relationship progresses you come to realize they're not really that person. It's hard to deal with when things or mannerisms you never knew of creep up behind you slowly. Then overnight you find yourself fighting hard to keep something together. How do you know if it's worth all the hassle? How do you decide when enough really is enough? I could really use an answer. I've been trying to figure out whether things are wrong because I'm going through a rough patch or because this just isn't working. I've never been a good judge when it comes to figure this sort of thing out. How upset can I really get?

Lately I’ve found myself taking more and more deep breaths, hoping that with each breath I can rationalize things better and get a better grip on things. The fact is, I’ve never worked so hard on making a relationship work. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I don’t know if it means this is real and this will last because I care enough to want it to last, or of it means there’s a lot wrong with the relationship and it just won’t work no matter what. I’m almost 24 and this is the first time I’ve tried to have a “mature” relationship...whatever that means. I’m trying. I real am trying. I know I am. Am I incapable of making things work, or am I just a spoiled brat who wants to bail out as soon as things aren’t going to my liking or as smooth as I think they should. I don’t know anymore.

I know that I don’t want advice from friends…or strangers… telling me that if I’m not happy then it’s time to move on. I know that every time I have an argument with HIM I don’t want my mind to directly jump to “maybe we should break up”. That’s not right. I think I am spoiled. But I also think I deserve good things. HE gives me good things. HE makes me feel good things. I want to be with HIM. I want things to work with HIM. We’ve only been together for 2 months, but I can see myself being with HIM for a long long time. We should be ok. I should be ok with HIM, and HE should be ok with me. I see us being ok. But every time I try to assure myself that we’re going to be ok, something comes up. It’s like we have a cloud of bad karma hanging over our heads. It won’t go away and sometime I feel it’s partly because HE won’t help me make it go away. I don’t know if I’m being unfair. I don’t know if I’m expecting too much of HIM. Sometimes things feel so right with HIM. They are so right. But things are going so wrong. How do you stop things from going so wrong?

I just feel like if I can’t make things work between us, I’ll never be able to make things work with anyone. It’s never been so right. It has to be ok. I just want to make things ok. HE has to help me make everything ok. That’s all I want. I know I’ll be ok after that. Things will brighten up and we’ll all be happy. Happy thoughts. That’s what it comes down to. It’s all about happy thoughts.

...

2006-04-22T03:06:00.000+03:00

way up North I took my day
all in all it was a pretty nice day
and I put the Hood right back where you could taste heaven perfectly
Feel out the summer breeze
didn't know when we'd be back
And I, I don't...didn't think
We'd end up like this...

silver lining:
n. A hopeful or comforting prospect in the midst of difficulty.

Starting Over - The Career Version

2006-04-22T02:09:00.000+03:00

I quit my job a couple of weeks back. This coming week will be my last week at my first ever job. It's a weird feeling. I thought I'd be jumping with joy knowing that the hell I've had to deal with for 10 months now will finally be over. Instead, i find myself having to deal with mixed feelings. Suddenly I've come to realize that I in fact am attached to Design Consultancy X. Much like someone in an abusive relationship, I don't wanna leave. I’m really going to miss it. I’m gonna miss my much-in-need-of-a-good-fuck boss, my I-must-prove-I’m-more-senior creative director and all the shit that’s been stinking up my life.

Changes are an odd thing to deal with. They’re usually more than welcomed, but they always throw you in a loop. My daily routine drive to Design Consultancy X will now have to be replaced by a daily routine drive to Ad Agency Y. Yes people, I too now have a new media job. No, I don’t feel like a hypocrite at all. Not at all.

The point is, according to my calculations, it’s taken me somewhere around 8 months to get used to my work environment, job specifications and work buddies. This worries me. I don’t think I can take another 8 months of learning how to deal and cope with a new job. I’m hoping that the first job is always the hardest to get used to. I’m hoping that I’m gonna sit my behind in my new chair quite comfortably and that I will not be driving back everyday after work hoping I have a car accident so I don’t have to go to work the next day. I really don’t want another case of Design Consultancy X. I’m really going to miss it there. I’m gonna miss everyone and everything. But I’ll forget. I’ll move on and have a whole bunch of new stories about the characters from work.

A change would do me good... This is going to be hard.

Perfect

2006-04-17T02:37:00.000+03:00

I've come to realize that it's one thing to make yourself happy, but it's quite another to make someone else happy. Relationships are complex and no matter how hard you try, it’s never enough. It’s funny how the perfect start to the close-enough-to-perfect relationship can dissipate so quickly. I really could use a Judith McNaught moment right now.
It seems that overnight things change. Expectations change, attitudes change, and people’s ability to withstand each others faults suddenly grows to a standstill. I’m really disappointed. And I’m really hurt. I’m almost 24 years old and I still don’t understand anything. Every time I think I’ve gotten a grasp on the way things work, I get mulled over by god knows what and I find myself lying in a ditch covered in dirt and wondering what hit me. What did hit me? How do things suddenly turn so sour? I don’t remember getting a bad taste in my mouth... I just suddenly felt sick. I hate feeling sick. I’m really upset. Really am. And I need to vent. I don’t know if I’m angry or if I’m hurt or if I’m just confused. I’m a little bit of everything I guess and I hate it. I freakin hate it. It’s almost 3 am and I’m too upset to sleep and I have work tomorrow and that makes me angry. I have to go to work tomorrow and I’m gonna be dead tired and I’m gonna be upset because I’m so disappointed at this point I just wanna scream. It’s just not fair. Things might work out, but for the time being everything’s in shambles. I’m supposed to be having a good year but this month fucking sucks. I hate April. I hate everything it’s brought me so far. March was good. February wasn’t half bad. January was ok too. I hate April. Had I been someone else I’d be sitting in bed with a bottle of alcohol drinking my sorrows away. I’m that upset… and angry… and confused. It just so happens I don’t believe in drinking by yourself. It’s a sad sad state and right now I’m a lot of things but I’m not sad. I am sad. It’s not fair.

Happy Days

2006-03-13T04:15:00.000+02:00

Ahhhh...so good to be back home. Back in my little bed, all curled up and ready for a good night's sleep. It's too bad I seem to have developed a bad case of insomnia. Oh well. I'll keep myself busy.

These past couple of weeks have been good to me. With the exception of a few (actually several) arguments with my parents about disrespecting the rules of the house and ignoring the rules of the society we live in. Yeah, whatever. I honestly don't know where my parents think they live. I've also been going through a hard time trying to decide whether to quit my job or stick to it. I really don't know. But all that seems ok in the light of day. Why you ask? Well..maybe it's the ultra-sexy, ultra-soothing voice of Mr. Howie Day blasting from my stereo, or it could be thanks to another gentleman who's been keeping me company. Yeah people...I'm still so in like.

How wonderful is it to feel cared for? Fabulous I say. Absolutely fabulous. You tend to forget how wonderful it really is be with someone who makes you happy, someone you're perfectly happy to sit next to and say nothing but feel a connection slowly building in the undertones of the whole experience.

Recently, I've been finding it hard to come up with something to write about. For some reason my stories about reckless alcohol consumption and nights on the town seem less compelling than before. For example, I could be writing about how I fell off the chair at a fairly empty pub earlier tonight when I decided to stand up and lip sync the lyrics to a popular Coldplay track (yes, embarrassing). But instead, here I am at 5 in the morning talking about a connection that has come out of nowhere and made me focus on less trivial things going on in my life. I want to sit at my laptop and bitch about this and that, but I can't get myself to do it. AND I'M USUALLY SO GOOD AT THE BITCHING! Kinda sucks, but I'm sure I'll get my groove back...just like Stella.

Why am I sharing all this with you? I really don't know. Maybe it’s just because I'm going through a different kind of happy right now, and I seem to find it pretty cool. Happy is always good, but a different kind of happy is just…different. It mellows you down as a person and somehow winds you down; you're still the same person, but more content at one level. Changes come and go very quickly. I’ve come to realize that to make most out of your life, you have to keep your eyes open for these changes so when they do come, you’re there…mind and body…and you can fully grasp the intensity of what’s going on around you.

Blame Canada

2006-03-08T15:22:00.000+02:00

Greetings from Canada.

Been away from the homeland since Friday night on a nice little getaway with the family. An excuse to shop like a mad person really.

So being all the way up north sort of clears your mind. I think it's the cold air or something of that sort coz things really do seem a lot more vivid. In the past few days, I've reassessed my career (or lack thereof), my past/current relationships (friends, parents, boys) and my taste in broccoli (can anyone say YUMMY??). My horoscope claims that this year is going to be marvellous, fabulous and all that. I think so. I can feel something brewing around me (might turn out to be the northern winds but I'm willing to keep my fingers crossed). So I'm thinking, is this a case of self-fulfilling prophecy, or am I gonna crash and burn and end up having a year worse than 2005? Can’t be. I would die. Better yet I would kill myself. Slit my wrists maybe...or hang myself from the balcony rail. Nah…too dramatic. This will be a good year. Yeah...this will be MY year. Thank you Semisonic.

The Lifestyles of the Rich & Moronic

2006-03-01T09:46:00.000+02:00

I went to this engagement dinner party last night and Oh My God!

Let me begin by explaining what an engagement dinner party is. It's when you invite 100 of your "closest" friends and relatives to the stiffest restaurant you can find and give them a venue to shmooze and talk about their new media job. I do have to point out that I did in no way choose to go to this piece of shit engagement but it was more of a favor to my parents. Not that I don't wish the future bride and groom the happiest of fairytale lives..I just really couldn't give two shits about last night's social scene.

The girl getting engaged went to the same high school I did. We were never friends but were fairly decent to each other. To my great joy she'd invited some of her school friends, people I haven't seen in years (totally by choice) and again, Oh My Freakin God. Picture this. The girls on one side of the room, wearing the lamest of pink floral dresses, posing for pictures like they're actually hot (ya right), pouts and big ass hair. Hmmm. The guys right across, all decked out in their black designer suits looking all sharp and jagaly. Of course, looking at the guys you really couldn't tell one from the other since they all stood the same way, one hand in their pocket, slight slouch, whiskey glass in the other hand, and their cigarette or cigar of choice.

What happened to you people? I distinctly remember being 17 and 18, watching you play fuck the tree and laughing your ass off thinking it was the funniest shit ever. I also remember playing ja7sheh with a whole bunch of you and taking piggyback rides on quite a few of your backs. Seriously, what happened? All this of course was topped off with 32 or so 97 year old ladies with big hair, bright red collagen injected lips, and cleavage no one really needs to see.

My sister stood by me all night, revolted almost as much as I was, and explaining how you know you're getting old when your school friends start going bald. I was seriously considering slitting my wrists just to get out of there. I went to the same school as these people, hung out at the exact same places, and grew up in the same environment. So why do I have no interest in posing for pictures like a moron, and eyeing the guy sucking on the cigar in the corner of the room? Am I missing a gene, was there something in the water at my house growing up? Where along the line did I choose leading a life so different from these fuckers? And was it a choice I made consciously or did it just happen? Why was I not standing there talking about my complete career shift a few months ago and my new media job?

I've always thought that my school was the most kickass school in Beirut. I know that people generally saw us as spoiled rich kids, but we never saw ourselves that way. We were just fun and open-minded school kids. Turns out everyone grew into the spoiled rich kid image, and I'm still running around in my flip flops.

:)

2006-02-28T23:54:00.000+02:00

I'm so in like...

Not An Addict

2006-02-28T00:43:00.000+02:00

It's been brought to my attention that a lot of my entries deal with alcohol consumption. I would just like to point out that I am not an alcoholic. I also don't try to make a habit of crazy nights out on the town and I do not hang out with a bunch of drunkards. It just so happens that alcohol is fun, and with fun come stories.

So thank goodness for wild nights on the streets of beirut, and the alcohol that fuels them.

Moderation

2006-02-26T19:26:00.000+02:00

Saturday night. Monot. (Yes, people still go to Monot).

A few rounds of margaritas, followed by a few rounds of B52, Sambuca and Absente shots and the topic of conversation has somehow shifted to "beb il badan" and the perks of having a future doctor right there with us. This of course is followed by a "I'll prove I'm not drunk-ask me any question" game:

Ok Rasha. What's 100-7.
66.
Wrong. What's 7+4.
51.

My math teacher would've been proud.

Fast forward a couple of hours and we've completely embraced the idea of "moderation is masturbation". A friend's semi decent apartment, someone using a rather narrow halogen lamp as a dancing pole, a rather tall gentleman bally dancing, and 2 other ladies on a tabletop dancing to Need You Tonight. Very nice. Approximately 37 seconds later, and a lady is screaming at us from a balcony across. "Ya zo3ran, ya bala marba, taffouli hal mousi2a w ndabo! Ya bala akhla2...." etc etc, the latter part of the reprimand drowned out by a combination of the gasps and giggles of drunken fools really.

I wonder what was REALLY going on in her mind watching that.

Freedom

2006-02-26T19:23:00.000+02:00

Tomorrow marks the day I get fired.

Absolut Bumming

2006-02-24T03:53:00.000+02:00

So it's 4 am and I just got home. Not a very good idea, considering I have work at 9 a.m. tomorrow morning. A bunch of us spent the evening at my friend's house, just drinking, talking..blah. We always get together at the same place, drink the same alcohol, play the same game (truth or dare) and ask the exact same questions. But for some reason, it never gets old. We've figured out a way to see a new dimension in every question every single time we play. Weird.

I don't know what it is about truth or dare that's so captivating for us. Every time we play we end up acting like lame-ass teenagers binge drinking for the first time. We' just can’t get enough. It's like we're doing what we couldn't do growing up. And for the oddest reason, we never cease to be amused by "i dare you to kiss ... (insert name)". Ah the innocence.

The latter part of the evening consisted of just me and 2 other friends sitting around, listening to Damien Rice and belching out the lyrics to tracks 1 through 7 (some even in arabic...haram Damien). I say belching, coz there really is no way of justifying what we were doing as singing. Way too much Absolut. Again, haram Damien. It was a good night though. I haven't done the whole "let's sit around and listen to records" thing in forever (ok maybe not records but u get my drift). I felt like a student again. Nothing like it.

And so in keeping with the student spirit I seem to have reconnected with, I'll be ditching work tomorrow to go hang out with the same people and listen to more records. We've made a pact, and I’ve never wanted to honor a pact more than now. I’ll mysteriously be getting a really bad migraine/tummy ache/case of severe nausea. Yay for me.

More Senior

2006-02-23T00:02:00.000+02:00

So I got a promotion at work today. Ok it wasn't exactly a promotion, but considering what a miserable person my job makes me, I may as well consider it a promotion. I was informed that I would now be responsible for all artwork done for one of our clients, a major bank. My creative director's exact words were "so basically ur now more senior when it comes to **** Bank's design work". Oh yippie. MORE SENIOR. Love that. I love the emphasis. More senior...like I've been anywhere near senior since I started working there 8 months ago.

Honestly, I'd rather be Ego Trip's full time caretaker than **** Bank's bitch, coz basically, that's what they should change my business card title to. Oh wait. I still haven't gotten my own business cards. Right. More senior.

Does anyone out there have a job for me? Something that doesn't entail me having to deal with an old spinster for a boss (ok she's only in her early 30s, but she acts like a mean old spinster), a creative director who insists on changing any design that comes out of the office (even if it's only moving a line 1 mm to the left) and having to refer to a lame-ass bank as my biggest client?

Oh the stories I could tell.

Who Wants To Be A Porn Star?

2006-02-21T06:07:00.000+02:00

Last night I endured 2 full hours of pulling, stretching, and tugging. I came home after work and spent the better part of the evening with a lady called Ghada who was on a mission to remove any evidence that I, in fact, was not a prepubescent teen. Over the 2 span of our 2 hours together, this is how our conversation went.

Me: Ay.
Ghada: Baddik Imlik kil sha3ra.
Me: Ma daroori.
Ghada: Yi ma tisti7i.
Me: Mish Mist7iyeh.
Ghada: 7a tshoofi ba3ed ma tit7ammami 7a tseeri mitel il baby. Ma 7a ykoon fi wala ay fare2.
Me: *GASP
Ghada: Ana hek. Min period la period ba3mol 7afleh la 7ali. B7ot hal mreyeh w yalla. Ma bkhalli wala ay shi.
Me: Lok keef btista7ikmi?
Ghada: Yi 3adi. Yalla brimi ta illik. Tawbzi, w shiddili jildik min hon, w khalliki hek.
Me: Ra7 ou2a3.
Ghada: La2 ma btoo2a3i.

Surely enough I lose my balance and desperately struggle not to fall on my head.

Me: Kinet ra7 ou2a3.
Ghada: La2 3adi. Yalla msikili il culotte, 3ali, 3ali.
Me: Ya Ghada wein ba3dik ray7a.
Ghada: Ma baddi khalilik wala ay sha3ra aw wabra.

The rest of the conversation alternated between an extended version of the "ma baddi khalilik wala sha3ra" routine, stories about "we7deh zbouneh khityara" (who turned out to be only 45) who likes to remove everything except for 1 line down there (a design as she likes to refer to it) and the occasional not so subtle reminder that "Nadine njem, maliket jamel libnan, hiyeh zboonti". Interesting.

20 minutes after she'd gone and I could do nothing but look in the mirror, questioned whether any of the events of the past 2 hours bordered on molestation, and think "I look like a porn star. A prepubescent one, but a porn star non the less".

Biology

2006-02-19T23:48:00.000+02:00

Is it the heart that follows the mind or the other way round? I don't remember any of my biology teachers every tackling the subject, and if they did, I must've been pondering something completely different at the time. Is it possible to suddenly develop a slight infatuation or be willing to hold talks between your heart and mind, between you and friends desperate to see you "involved", and between the whys and why nots in your head. What is it about a person that turns that neon sign in your head that flashes "potential" in bright red precision? Is it personality, a certain look, or just knowing that there is interest from the other party? Could that really be all it comes down to?

Makes me wish I'd paid more attention in class.

Von Hump

2006-02-19T12:27:00.000+02:00

Screw Karkar.

2006-02-19T01:13:00.000+02:00

Who the fuck is Karkar? And what the fuck gives it the right to screw up people's lives.

Everybody join me in saying SCREW KARKAR.

Goodbye and farewell.

6th Sense

2006-02-19T01:07:00.000+02:00

I'm at my friend Dima's place. A friend of hers is attempting to analyze another friend's personality through an empty shot platic cup with cigarette ash inside. He sees, thick eyebrows, a goatie and her trying to escape through a hole.

Apparently, all you really need to know about a person lies in alcohol and nicotine remnants tossed in a cheap plastic.

Honestly now, is this a 6th sense or the alcohol talking? And more importantly, is there really no better way to spend a Saturday evening?

My Bloody Valentine

2006-02-18T20:47:00.000+02:00

I remember it like it was yesterday. A line like this belongs in the movies, but then again so do the events of February 14th 2005. I wasn;t in Beirut when it happened, but I should've been. I remember I was still in bed when I got a txt from my friend in Beirut. All she said was that there'd been a huge explosion in beirut that day and no one knew what'd happened. I got up, walked around my apartment in Austin and really didn;t think much of her txt. I always felt disconnected from everything back home when I was in Austin. It was like I led 2 different lives, each on a different continent. I little later she sent another txt saying that they think Rafik Hariri, our ex-prime minister, had been targetted.

When I read that I began to worry. I had never cared much for Lebanese politics. It was all a load of bullshit, the ravings of a bunch of overstuffed pigs looking to wake from the lethargy they'd gotten used to. Total bull i thought. And I honestly never bothered with it. I did know though that Hariri was sort of a contraversial figure in the Lebanese political scene. Not contraversial in the provocative sense, but just in the whole Lebanese "is he a godsend or just out to make more money" kind of way. A lot of people never liked him, I'd always been neutral. I knew of teh charitable acts he'd been involved in and, naive as it may be, I just figured he was relatively a good person. End of story.

The next message i got practically froze me in my place. I think i was somewhere between the kitchen and living room when i pressed teh read button on my phone. "Hariri's dead...." was all it said. I couldn'e believe it. I became so upset, felt like someone had targeted me personally, like i wasn't safe in my own apartment. I couldn;t breathe. i'd never felt like that before. I'd experienced death before, death of people I'd actually cared about and it's always been upsetting to me. Hariri's death somehow managed to force me to react differently. I didn't understand it at the time.

A year on, and I still haven't fully grasped the impact of the death of a public figure like Hariri. A few days ago marked his 1-year passing. I went to the demonstration they'd organized to mark that day along with what they said was over a million other people. I wasn't here last year to denounce this act of terror, and I wasn't able to make my voice heard. No one in Austin particularly understood the impact of what had happened. I couldn;t explain to them how upsetting his assasination was, and how it would affect the country. So I left it at that.

In Martyrs Square, or Freedom Square, or whatever they're calling it these days, I saw nothing that helped me voice my opinion. It was typical Lebanese jargon, supporters of the milliona and two Lebanese political parties, and the occasional insult to our much respected president. Very disappointing to say the least. I held on to my flag, held my head up high and left. I figured I'd sort of left my mark, or at least allowed strange men to momentarily leave their hand prints on my back and buttocks while pushing through the crowds.

So much for national pride and integrity. Welcome to Lebanon I say.

One Hell Of An Ego Trip

2006-02-18T19:33:00.000+02:00

I have a pet iguana. His name is Ego Trip and I love him. I refer to Ego as him although I'm not quite sure of his gender.

I went to the supermarket to buy some pie filling and ended up bringing Ego back home with me. He tends to poop a lot and when he does his little bum makes a squeezing noise. Weird and disturbing. He likes lettuce and seems to only remember me when I have some in my hand. I love my little Ego Trip. He brings joy to my life on a daily basis, and he's oh so beautiful.

This is a picture of him last summer. I like to think of him as my baby, although it's obvious to anyone that he has no particular emotional attachment to me. I guess that's just the way it goes. Just because you care about something, don't expect to get anything back from it. Aside, of course, from occasionally being able to gloat or boast about your pet/baby/ little bundle of joy..even if it is a bit scaly.

Hydrogen

2006-02-18T17:57:00.000+02:00

It's not so much about hydrogen as it is about being. Being, much like hydrogen, is colorless, odorless, nonmetallic, univalent, tasteless, and highly flammable. But enough with the formalities. Welcome to my blog. My name is Rasha, and I'm not the blog-posting type. I'm also not the sort of person to stick with anything. Boredom, I fear, is my kryptonite so to say. And with kryptonite comes the end of things.

When i was a kid growing up in Beirut, I used to sleep in our apartment corridor on nights when the bombing was more severe. I remember staying up after my mom, dad, brother and sister had fallen asleep, and just staring out the window for what seemed like hours. I loved watching the lights. I liked to think of them as lights, when in fact they were works of fire..fire art. I loved the colors, the magical mesh of oddly colored shapes and lines, and the way they all came together. Fast forward a few years later and I began to remember the lights as the beauty of destruction. These days, I remember the lights as exploding hydrogen, brightly colored, intense and pressured to the point of explosion.

Or implosion. Afterall, is that not the malice of everyday. Everyday, faced with stories, pictures, trauma and all that causes us to distort or inner body into malnutritioned bundles of loss. Sad really. Nothing is what we say it is, and nothing is as at should be.

Now, all the drama and glory of hydrogen put aside, I think this blog should be thought of as the glory of thought. I also think this is a happy occasion and this blog should be filled with happy thoughts. Happy thoughts make the world go round, and happy thoughts make everyday fun. I'll try to remember that everyday brings about a new story to tell, something fun to think back on and laugh, and that being young is not something I'll remember forever. So cheers darlings, and happy thoughts everyone.