On Friendship

I turned to ask my friend, "You know what's sad?"
"What?" She replied, locking a look of concern into my eyes.
"Well... I'm not sure if I still believe in God."
She cringed and shifted uncomfortably while she broke eye contact with me.
I held my breath until I could continue, "That's not sad. The sad part is the reaction I knew I'd get from you."

Hello Birthday

Raincheck this year?

Butterflies and Hurricanes

I got to thinking about the different roles I play in life. And I've narrowed it down from a long list into a few blurbs. These are the two roles I struggle with most, they will probably be the death of me.

Daughter

I am number three. Frightened of number one, and can’t win with number two. Black sheep to all.

My role as daughter is so hard to define that this is probably the hardest paragraph to write of all my roles. My brother, number one, is a stranger to me. He is accomplished and a total family man, and I spent my entire childhood looking up to him. So it eats away at me that I can never get his approval or support.

My relationship with my sister, number two, is a simulation of friendship, in that it is full of love and laughter, but there are oh so many conditions involved. I used to share a lot with her, now I keep a lot to myself. I just realized she's not interested anymore, and is sick of me to an extent. No offense if you're reading this, sis, you know I love you.

I grew up in a more diverse community than they did. I became more open to things. I learned music and had primarily foreign friends. They did not. I risked falling in love . They did not.

They both married young, so it is probably I who is a stranger to them, with my single life and quest for self-fulfillment. My parents wish I could be more like one and two and settle down, and I’d like to give them that more than anything. It just doesn’t happen so easily with me. I was a rebel turned compliant-child. I’ve been working on developing my role lately into “adult”, but they’re simply not having it. I’m always a child. Never mind that I’m the only one not to move back home after college and am paying my own rent and am pursuing my passions while putting aside some savings. No, I’m still a child. I am sure that even if I fulfilled their wishes, I’ll still be a child, so I’m not about to go down that path just yet.

Romantic

Such a stupid, stupid girl sometimes. I think a big part of my confidence and strength came from the emotional hurricane that slapped me out of my shell when I was younger. By emotional hurricane I mean the cheating, obsessive, possessive, mentally ill, passionate, self-involved, musician boyfriend I had for most of my college years. It must have been over five years ago when it ended, but the truth is it’s still very much under my skin. I exist in a different world now, thanks to him, and that old world of mine is a distant memory that I recognize in some other naïve women. It makes me angry when I see it, and I can’t be around them, for fear I will crush their spirit.

I’ve loved another and another since, and have become more cynical about romance and love, but there’s that little stupid, stupid girl that still frolics within me and wants to find romance. Her problem is not that she can’t find it – it’s that she finds it ALL THE TIME. I really think she should get over it already, but it’s just in this little stupid, stupid girl’s nature. I’m likely to still get butterflies well into my 70s, because, the butterflies, they never go away. Somehow they manage to survive hurricanes.

Vicious M

The Maneater

Vicious M is the worst kind of female a man can get involved with. Not because I'm reckless or abusive, or nagging or neglectful, but because I come with promises of serenity and understanding, warm eyes, a soft shoulder and a listening ear, pseudo-endless support, and a sprinkle of seduction that stays under your skin.

And then nothing. I move on.

There is a chance at love. But it's going to hurt.

Dreamy Eyes

I recently came across an old photo of a good friend of mine and her boyfriend at the time. It was taken when they first got together and were crazy about eachother. The photo hurts to look at now because he recently left her and really broke her heart. Like, REALLY broke her heart. He's with someone else now and traveling with this new one. Put some salt and lemon juice on a wound why don't you. I know the kind of pain she went through - not that I am saying I understand her very unique situation at all - I'm just saying, I've been there, when you have so much faith in your relationship with someone, and it is something very difficult to come back from.


They were both sitting on either side of a hotel bed, the night stand lamp blanketing the room like a psuedo-sunset, and they are both looking to the left side of the room, in the same direction. The only thing is, she has her head on his shoulder and her eyes are, unbeknownst to him, seeking to meet his gaze. She's positioned like him, as if they are on the same ride, except that he's looking down at the ground, and she's looking up, for him. Every inch of her spells it out, it's so hopelessly devoted.




I thought he was an odd one to begin with. Like a child with a social disorder, and she seemed to have made her way into his isolated mind. But the look in her eyes was not completely in union with his. She's dreamy-eyed. Is he dreaming the same thing at that moment? I don't know. No one could tell. I wish she wasn't so dreamy eyed about him.

In all fairness, it wasn't just her that was dreamy-eyed. I browsed some more and there are loads of sweet moments between them where they're mutually indulging in eachother.

I can't help it now, and can't pinpoint why I feel this way, but makes me sad to hear people talk about someone they are in love with sometimes (refer to previous post in August - Sad State of Single Women). How is it that this one person becomes your answer to everything? I sometimes go past sad and straight to angry. I've sounded like that too, don't get me wrong, and it's just as irritating. So it's always a little (okay, more than a little) disappointing when someone doesn't meet your fantastic expectations. Can you blame Dreamy Eyes over there for being hurt? Doesn't a little part of you want to throw something at Sedated Eyes on the left?

This is the first slap in the face for us dreamy-eyed folk. A fantasy about another person in your head will never be. You are basically setting yourself up for disappointment if you expect a crazy love story with a happy ending.

You're quite lucky, are rare to come by if that's your story, but make it easier for the dreamy-eyed girls and don't share your story. You give us hope that way, dammit. Be kind. I have not met a crazy love story with a happy ending thus far.

Feel free to prove me wrong and show me that they do exist and live happily ever after.

Seriously.. feel free. I await your commentary.

New Classes at the Gym

You want to be healthy, right? You want to get off your ass and get a bit of exercise so that your ass actually has muscle in it, and that it's more recognizable in your pants than on your couch?

And that when you die your hands aren't frozen in the Mavis Beacon position?

Remember this?

I'm looking to start an exercise routine. Something I know I'll commit to and will be good at. I was chatting (yes, at my computer) to a friend of mine and we came up with the following alternatives:

aerobic pole dancing

water jenga

meditative sprinting

seaweed mud wrap wrestling

competitive lounging

speed typing (i hear its gonna be in the olympics)

high impact tickling

intensive coffee grinding

inappropriate gym talking

embarrassing stretching

elastic snapping

gas passing

leg shifting

twitching

phone checking

lint picking

knuckle cracking

back scratching

and finally:

pay and stay at home... ing

I'll let you know how the workout goes.... :)

Going Metro in Dubai

metro |ˈmetrō|

noun ( pl. -ros) (also Metro)

a subway system in a city, esp. Paris.

• a subway train, esp. in Paris.

• Metro is an abbreviation of metropolitan, and is the name of many products and services relating to urban areas, in particular rapid transit rail systems.

• See also: "metrosexual", a neologism for a male (typically heterosexual) who spends large amounts of time and money on his appearance and lifestyle.

I wasn't optimistic about trying out the Dubai metro for the first time. One tourist to Dubai, predicted it would be a perfect addition to a crowded system whose public transport "is in desperate need of nurturing". I expected BO and herds of loud children stuck to their mommies, teenagers clustered together giggling hysterically. But I figured, it's about a quarter of what it would cost me to take a cab towards the same destination so let's give it a shot. It was really quiet at first, but then the escalators brought the crowds along. I was right. But there are expats, locals, and all kinds of internationals walking the platforms. I liked it.

Instead of buying a one-way or roundtrip ticket, I bought one of those cards that you can refill and reuse. Like an Oyster Card, for those of you who have been in London. Everyone was asking the poor lady behind the glass the same questions about tickets and stops so I just bought one and asked her to fill it with 50 Dirhams. Honestly I just wanted to save time, she was taking up to five minutes with each customer. It's like Metro orientation month. Which means it takes forever for people to understand how this works.

When I reached the platform, I waited. It was actually the only time I had to think about what I needed to do, because everything else was automatic. I'm not good with waiting. So my next task was to choose a waiting pose and go with it. I fluctuated between 'bored pacing' and 'leaning back on the rail and staring at my reflection in the glass'. I had nothing else to keep busy with, so vanity is always an easy out. Actually I did that because I noticed that I looked really pale, and should probably get some sun sometime soon.

But in those few minutes of waiting, especially when a couple of kids walked passed me with their skateboards - emo haircuts, tight black pants and everything - I suddenly had a flashback of being in Europe. I remembered this one junkie in the London Underground with a mohawk standing about 20 meters away from me at around midnight. We were the only two waiting for the last train and he was staggering closer and yelling obscenities into the security camera, threatening to take a 'wee' on the tracks if the train didn't show up. I didn't wait long enough to find out if he did, I picked up my bag and opted to take a taxi to my friend's house instead. Junkie aside, I have fond memories of being in Europe, and those moments waiting on the Dubai metro platform took me there. I thought to myself, "Wow, it feels like I'm back in Europe."

My favorite part of the whole ride was this newlywed couple that got on the train. They looked like they were in their early twenties. They looked like they might have been from India. She was wearing a black Abaya and had a scarf around her head - Khaleeji style - and they were arm in arm, walking like they were on their honeymoon. They found a place to stand to my left, in between two of the train-cars, but had nothing to hold on to. So they stood facing eachother in an embrace. He had his arm around her waist, and she had hers up on his shoulder with her head resting on his chest. The train started moving and they barely budged, just sharing their position and the train ride in a quiet moment together. It was so sweet. I started painting a picture of what's behind their relationship. He married her recently and brought her to Dubai from her hometown. It's her first time in Dubai, whereas he had been working here for a while and is some sort of business man, dressed in his white collar with a classy watch and phone in his other hand. She was in wedded bliss, proud to be held by him, eager to send photos of her new life to her friends and family back home. She probably can't handle him talking to other women but has nothing to worry about given the way he's holding her so tight. They probably can't wait to start a family -

"Hey... you..... eksecuuuse me. YOU." A middle aged gentleman in local attire standing to my right interrupts my imaginary scenario and yells over me to the couple on my left. "You i'm atawking to you."

The Indian man looks over, chewing his gum at a steady pace, unfazed by the elder gentleman's hostile tone.

The Khaleeji continues, "Please ... *gestures for them to separate* this is un - ax - eptable. You have to be considerate, there are children on the train. Do not do this."

The husband, still poised, goes "I'm just HOlding her."

"I am warning you this is not acceptable. You have to respect others here. I am here for this reason ha."

They release.

So maybe it's not quite Europe. But that's going Metro for you. It looks like a liberal but deep down it's a homophobe.