Writing

Summer of ’79

It was evident that her weight wouldn’t help her merge with her school friends. During the summer vacation between the 9th and 10th grade, she started to skip meals, count calories, and live on the scale. Her attitude was the worst: she never listened, stopped having fun, and didn’t want to spend time with her family. She wanted to be like the models in magazines. She wanted to lose weight so that they would stop calling her ‘chubby Chloe’ in school. She knew that she only needed to lose five to ten kilos and she would be perfect.

What is perfection?

She exercised and reduced her food intake to the minimum but the results weren’t evident. Her weight loss wasn’t fast enough. She only had two months to get in shape so she obsessed and started to lock herself in the bathroom after every meal just to get rid of it. Her throat was sore but she didn’t care. All that mattered was her image, her career as a teenage model, and how well she fits in school. She lost weight but couldn’t see it; she only sees “chubby Chloe” looking back at her.

By mid summer she was taken to the hospital after her organs gave up. By the end of summer, she was able to sit up straight in the bed and take a few steps. By December, it was evident that she learned her lesson. In school, she wasn’t called ‘chubby Chloe’ anymore, she was ‘bulimic-Chloe’

April 26, 2015 0

Grey and Grey

For those of you who are still faithfully watching Grey’s Anatomy and caught last night’s episode I am as shocked as you are. How? Why? Who? Seriously?!?! 11 years of great episodes, ups and downs, airplane crashes, patients, Neuro-surgeries, debates, heartaches, and losses, we are faced with this? Sigh. The story goes as the story goes, do not question the author.

Although some things in Grey’s Anatomy are far-fetched and aren’t very realistic (such as the cloned cancer Meredith took home with her), it’s still a fairly reasonable series to follow. It seems like it won’t last much longer but we can always watch reruns. Come on, we had the same feeling of utter loss when Friends was over so we need to prepare ourselves. We can always live on reruns.

Meanwhile, keep Thursday nights for your TV shows and the rest of your week for reading. Grey’s Anatomy shook us for the past 11 years and another type of Grey shook the world: 50 Shades of Grey.

So here I am, a couple of years ago, walking naively in what I believe to be the Virgin Mega-stores in Dubai when I see piles of beautifully stacked books. I walk up to the pile and, out of curiosity, pick it up: 50 Shades of Grey. Hmmm… Interesting. I think I had a mental link to Grey’s Anatomy and assumed it was good. The way it was marketed around the bookstore was ridiculous! They must have had at least 20 piles of 30 books each AT LEAST! The author apparently signed a GREAT publishing deal and the marketing team did a great job to encourage people to buy it.

Mental note to self: do not judge a book by its cover or by the way it’s being displayed.

Let me be clear about something, I don’t read the back cover unless it’s REALLY necessary but since it seemed like a great book, I decided the front cover was enough regardless of the fact that it was fairly ambiguous. The image of the tie was honestly very intriguing and it seemed like a nice little romance, it seemed to be the “it” book of the season. Therefore, being the very fashion forward person I am, I bought it.

Fast forward: a few months after being piled up in my “to read” pile, I talk about it to one of my friends who tells me that it’s basically a dirty little book. Everything she said was news to me. I was like a five year old being told that Santa didn’t exist and couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I had flashbacks to the book store and how I looked to make sure people saw me buy the fashionable book, then I had a flashback to flipping the book over and thinking I won’t read it because it would ruin everything. Ah the many times I could have said NO. The many times I could have saved that money. And the way I felt about being a blind follower was just painful Then it hit me, what if I READ it!!! What if I started reading it and the confusion grew with every page? That would have been something!

So what did I learn from this incident?

1- Not every Grey is good, some Grey is bad

2- If you have a bad book, you’re stuck with it forever because you don’t want to seem tasteless for giving it to someone else. Hence, the book will stay in your shelf until one of your grandchildren finds it and will assume you had a weird life.

3- Spoilers are better than wasted time and money. Read the back cover of the book.

4- Don’t buy a book because it’s in fashion, but a book that you will enjoy and is worth buying even if you have to spend time choosing it.

5- Listen to your friends, they usually have something important to say.

April 24, 2015 2

Truths Untold

Childhood is filled with great memories and hopes. The first time you slept over in your friend’s house, the first time you stayed up till midnight, the first time your teacher acknowledges your hard work and recognizes you in front of your classmates.

Hopes…dreams…aspirations.

Childhood is when everything was simple. When you don’t watch the news because, to you, the only news you need to know is what you see in your everyday life. When it was unforgivable if you talked back to your dad and hamburgers are not an option since your mom thinks chicken burgers are better for your health.

You hear glimpses of grim conversations about your far cousin who passed away from an overdose and you don’t dare ask because you know that you were eavesdropping. You hear about the married teacher who has an affair with the foreign administrator and know it’s a hush hush thing so you act all cool in front of her, not really knowing what “affair” is. You join the after school activities to fit in with your classmates and feel ecstatic when you get invited over to one of their homes.

Going to your friend’s house after school is a privilege. Having lunch that isn’t like the conventional one you have at home is an experience. And seeing their room for the first time is a discovery. You play “hair dresser” and actually cut one of your friend’s braids. Her mom’s not happy.

Then you hear of something grim like war and don’t realize what is really going on. You only think of the gas masks that your parents didn’t buy and worry. You don’t know why you are actually worrying but you do. You think of your cousins who have gas masks. You check on the safe room your parents designated and open the cupboards to check on the canned goods. Yum. It feels like a serious matter and you feel scared. You don’t know why but you pick up on the overall fear going on.

You fear monsters in your grandmother’s house. Your eldest cousin makes up stories and they haunt you when you go to bed at eight. You wrestle, you play, you get hurt, you buy a bike because everyone has one and you ride. You ride around the block and have the wind blow in your hair. You put up your hair in a high ponytail, go out to lunch with your family, and lock yourself in the bathroom when reading the I love you letter you got from the boy who sits next to you in class. And your heart skips a beat. Then your younger brother pukes and you go home thinking of how embarrassed you feel (totally not considering his feelings because, come on, everyone’s watching you!)

You run. You take tips from your brother who tells you to keep your hands open and push your head back so you run faster. So you do that without questioning his knowledge. You compare dolls with your friends and realize you don’t have the latest, so you ask your parents who buy it for your birthday. You cherish that doll for a year, and park it at the corner of your room with the other previously cherished dolls.

You listen to your parents shout behind closed doors and worry. It hurts to hear them shout. You don’t understand what’s going on but it just doesn’t feel good. To hear your mom’s voice change from relaxed to unhappy isn’t nice. But by morning, everything is fine. Your parents are fine as if nothing happened and you act like you never heard a thing.

You miss you father when he’s away on business. You enjoy vacations and going out with your siblings. You live your life without thinking of the future. All you care about is yourself. Your happiness, you simple requests, your toys, and whether or not you’re getting pizza today. And it’s usually not a worry.

You hear of someone sick. You try to find out who but no adult gives you any attention. You don’t even ask. You hide behind the sofa and peek at the movie Jaws and have your heart race at the music… dan dan dan dan dan dan starting out slow and becoming faster. You can’t sleep that night, so you end up sleeping on your parent’s sofa. And it’s the best sleep ever.

Then you grow older.

You realize that you like beef burgers, you realize that mayonnaise isn’t so bad, and you realize that overdose means drugs. You grow older and realize that the war that was in your region wasn’t in your country, and many people died. You grow older and realize your classmates won’t care what you do in your life, they are too preoccupied with theirs. You grow older and realize couples have problems and it’s strength not to show kids they exist.

You grow older and realize that sick person had cancer and didn’t live. You grow older and commend movie producers for scaring us (then end up watching some action or chick-flick instead.).

You grow older and watch the news. Grim news all day, everyday. You hear of car accidents, and realize that the policeman who came over in the third grade and tried to teach you that seat belts are important was trying to save lives. You realize he probably came across some painfully realistic accidents. You realize your married teacher was cheating and got caught, her boyfriend got deported, her husband made a scene at school, and she got fired. And then you realize the meaning of affair.

You grow older and see things differently. The happy place we called life is now more realistic (and not so happy). A world where cancer kills, racism hurts, and war destroys homes. You realize that the stories you read every night are fairy-tales and you can never be a princess. You realize your father had to go away on business trips to afford that doll you ignored after a year. You realize your mom was tired.

You grow older and you lose the innocence you once had with every step towards adulthood. Your dreams, hopes, and aspirations remain your dreams, hopes, and aspirations. You realize the world isn’t as simple as you thought it was, and the glimpses of conversations you heard were the truths untold to children.

April 22, 2015 0

Little Girl

The little girl loves to skip, dance, and run. You hear her little feet tread so softly on the sand and her little steps are everywhere. She goes outside to hold her pet duck disregarding the fact that it’s double her size and smells so bad. She climbs on sofas and jumps from chair to chair just to hear everyone in the house shout “stop!”

She seeks attention all day, everyday. She holds onto her mother’s hand (and leg, and head, and shoulder) with her sweet soft hands. A butterfly. She holds onto her aunt’s hand (and leg, and head, and shoulder) with her sweet soft hands. She does the same to her grandmother, grandfather, and uncles. Her touch, so soft, so sweet, and so manipulative.

She shows compassion to others. Her love for her family shines through her big eyes… and she smiles. Beams and fills the house with warmth.

She giggles, laughs, and dances like a princess. She wears her long Elsa dress and knows very well the accessories that go with it. Knows that it’s supposed to have a long tail and her hair must be braided. She plays the role so well and takes the issue seriously. It’s Frozen! Her favorite!!

She wants to go outside. I tell her she needs to change and she does. Gets her thin legs into her leggings so quickly “Let’s go!” she says enthusiastically. And we leave.

Sheer innocence while she swings, “higher, higher!” And I push her higher. She drops her slippers into the sand “My slipper!” So she stops, gets the slipper, and gets back up.

She falls, and tears run down her cheeks.

“There’s blood!”

“It’s just a scrape”

“I need ice!”

Minutes later… “Is it gone?”

“No, it’ll be gone by Friday.”

A few more minutes later… “Is it gone?”

“No it’ll be gone by Friday”

So Thursday, she falls on her lip.

Don’t grow up too fast. Stop growing and just be. Be free to play, be free to run, be free to dance. Be free, little girl, to play with your duck and your toys. Be free, little girl, to watch TV and listen to stories. Be the little three year old we love and cherish and skip over into our heart and soul.

Dedicated to my little niece: Malak. You bring happiness wherever you go, sunshine.

April 21, 2015 0

ابتسمي لأعيش

كوني، يا سيدتي، سواد عينيّ

وكوني، يا سيدتي، نبضات قلبي

فلا عين لي ولا قلب دونكِ

ابتسمي

فأنا أرى الدنيا في وجنتيكِ

ابتسمي

وخذيني بيدي إلى قصركِ العالي

لنجلس تحت آمال النجوم

خذيني لنعيش حياتنا معاً

دون ازعاج الدنيا

دون ازعاج الناس

لنكون أنا وأنتِ لوحدنا

نرقص، ونغني، ونعيش

ابتسمي لأرى مستقبلي واضحاً

ابتسمي لأرى ضياع عمري معكِ

فلا حياة معكِ

ولا حياة دونكِ

April 18, 2015 0

New Year Resolutions should be SMART

Everyone has a boost in motivation when writing their New Year resolutions and, honestly, why not? It’s a great time to start something since everyone else is doing it. It’s usually the time when people are very optimistic about the 365 days coming up they feel that they can do anything, everything, the thing they never got around to, and thing they vowed will be done, and the thing they will probably stop doing in a few months.

Now why is that?

Well, beginnings are always hopeful. The start of a new job, the start of a new relationship, the start of a new goal, and so on. The problem is the start is usually where we make mistakes.

When setting goals, you should make sure that they should be SMART goals. I’m sure many of you know the concept of SMART goals in work but, as a reminder, goals should be Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Relevant, and Time-bound. We apply SMART goals in our jobs and it honestly travels well into our lives.

Now let’s take the classic example of losing weight. The usual resolution is “lose weight” or some more specific version such as “lose five kilos this year”. Alright the second one is a bit better but the goal is so vague Future-You would look for (and find) the loop holes. Future-You would say “well, I lost a kilo so I’m alright” NO! You’re NOT alright, you must be stronger than Future-You. You must be SMARTer 😉

S- Lose five kilograms

M- measurable with a weighing scale

A- it is most probably attainable

R- yes it’s relevant as it has to do with your weight

T- by June 30, 2015.

(Motivation: one slice of chocolate cake- this addition would help keep your eye on the goal. But internal motivators should be used for better results).

Aha. Now you can apply the same method to your other goals.

Challenge yourself, set your goals and make sure to keep milestones that would keep your motivation up. It helps when you can see the end that’s why 30 day challenges work well. For writers who plan to write a book, milestones can be the chapters written or reviewed. For photographers, milestones can be a certain number of pictures taken and shared or sold, and so on.

Identify the goal so you can keep it right in front of you. Identify your goal and work towards it. Identify your goal and reward yourself when you reach. Pat yourself on the back and be proud.

Stop giving yourself excuses, start somewhere SMART.

April 18, 2015 1

أنثى

دعني اشعر بانوثتي

لا تتركني رهينة الأحزان

دعني ارش رقبتي بعطر البنفسج

والون اطرافي بألوان الخريف

والربيع والصيف والشتاء.

دعني اضحك لكل سبب

ودعني ابكي بلا سبب

دعني ارقص

دعني أسدل شعري الطويل

واحرك قدماي مع موسيقى قلبي

واطير…

April 17, 2015 0

Afternoon Tea

The first memory she had of her grandmother’s house was the scent of freshly baked blueberry muffins. She loved how the aroma filled the entrance and loved the traces of flour on the surface of the working area. She would draw little hearts and her grandmother would tease and ask if the hearts were meant for her or the muffins, and she would answer the muffins. She loved her grandmother who introduced her to this wonderful world of baking.

She remembered the sweet lemon pies they would make in the summer to accompany the swimming trips and the warm apple cinnamon crumble that would accompany the winter winds. She was her grandmother’s little helper. The person who would hold the rolling pin and the person who would garnish the cake tops with chocolate shavings. She was the person who would cut the two day old bread to cover with the custard, raisins, and nuts and turn it into warm home-made pudding. She would always choose the floral tablecloth and tea set for their days together and would help serve afternoon tea to her family and enjoy every second of their tea time together.

All her free time was spent in the kitchen with her grandmother. she learned everything in regards to the temperatures, recipes, and baking tips. She asked her father for a set of baking pans for her tenth birthday and was ecstatic when she unwrapped the pink wrapping paper and saw them in the box. Her first baking pans.

She always wanted to settle down and start a family of her own. She met Owen once she started college in orientation and things just clicked between them. Her short dark hair and warm hazel eyes penetrated his heart and he knew that she was the woman of his dreams.

They had some joined classes and Owen was so happy to help Catherine with her work. They spent so much time preparing for projects and presentations. After two years of college, Catherine told Owen that she will not be continuing her education and a Diploma was enough. Her grandmother have passed away and she had to go back and spend her summer in the old kitchen. He understood her passion and wished her well but didn’t want to lose her so he promised to take some time to visit her for a week during the spring break.

She walked into the old kitchen and ran her fingers across the top of the working area. Dust in place of flour. She opened the cupboards that once held the dried cranberries and vegetable oil and they were empty. She sighed. She opened the fridge that was once packed with eggs and cream to have an empty space stare back. She took the rolling pin in her hand and started to think of a way to bring life back into her grandmother’s house.

She smiled and started to work on cleaning up the house. She started with the kitchen, then the rooms, and finally the living area. She made sure the place was warm and welcoming as it always was when her grandmother was around. She left the house and came back with bags of groceries.

She started by making a basic vanilla cake. She sliced the vanilla bean and used half in the custard she was cooking on the stove. Her heart skipped a beat when she thought the eggs curdled but was satisfied to see that it all went well. Her grandmother taught her well.

she was expecting her father, mother, and sisters to arrive soon and Owen also confirmed he would be coming over for tea. He had a different plan in mind and coordinated with Catherine’s mom to propose. She was ecstatic to hear and gave her blessings.

Catherine chose the floral table spread and got her grandmother’s floral cups and saucers. She started boiling the water for the tea and was piping creme patisserie in her eclairs when the doorbell rang.

It was nobody. She felt a bit of wind across her face so she had to make sure the draft was managed by closing the windows. Catherine arranged the eclairs, vanilla cake, mini sandwiches, scones, and oatmeal cookies on the table and took a seat next to her grandmother’s chair. She placed a plate with one piece of each baked good and a cup of warm tea as tribute to her grandmother. She was content with the outcome of four hours of baking and felt her grandmother would be proud.

The guests walked in and were impressed. Her sister beamed and Owen didn’t believe she didn’t buy the cakes. She smiled and sat down, making sure every one had a taste of her cakes.

Owen proposed. He went down on one knee and told her how she filled his life with happiness and what an honor it would be if she accepts to be his wife. He slipped the ring on her finger. Her family congratulated them and soon the get together was over.

Catherine was alone in the house, cleaning up and putting things back. It was the perfect day in her grandma’s little home. She was wiping the working area and unconsciously started drawing little hearts. She was exactly where she wanted to be.

“These are for you, grandma,”

April 16, 2015 1

The Floral Dress

She stared at her reflection in the mirror and a stranger looked back. It has been a while since she took a hard look at herself: her hair was hard and brittle, her skin looked dull and lifeless, and her eyes just looked old. She looked back at the major events in her life and felt content.

She married early in her twenties and had her first child a year later. She chose to stay at home and be a full time mom while her husband was working to support the family. The first few years of her marriage were fine until she got pregnant again. It was as if her husband didn’t want another child, as if her girl would cost so much and there was no way to support her. She proposed to work part time from home and got a job as a data entry officer; this way she was able to be home with her kids and still earn some cash.

Then she got pregnant again and it wasn’t as easy as her previous pregnancies. She would doze off when her second child naps and would wake up barely in time to prepare dinner. The house was a mess, the laundry was piled up, the dishes were stacked, and the kids were dirty. Her work was never done on time and she still had to manage play-dates, birthday gifts, homework, and doctor appointments. It was getting out of hand but she still stayed strong. Still managed to take on more responsibilities.

Years passed and things settled a bit. Her kids were at school and they were very much independent. She still had to raise and discipline them, it’s just easier without late night feedings and diaper changings (at least).

During all those years, she ignored herself. Ignored her dreams and ignored her aspirations, ignored her desires and needs. Her friends drifted apart from her as she became more consumed with her family. She knew that her family is her life. She chose her family over her life. She sacrificed herself to make their lives easier: to make her husband and kids happy.

And today, she gets to celebrate her family. Her little boy got accepted in the college of his choice and is leaving the next day so they were all gathered for a farewell dinner. Her husband made the reservations and told her to “dress up” because it’s a very high class restaurant. She opened her cupboard and got her floral evening dress out. She put on her makeup, smudging the eyeliner over the creases of her lid and put her lipstick on quickly. She brushed her hair over the little bald spot she just realized and clipped it in place. She looked for her expensive perfume and sprayed it on her neck and wrists. She grabbed her shawl, glasses, and bag and went down to meet her husband who was already waiting in the car.

“I tried to be quick” She said.

Silence.

“I’m sorry, you only gave me 15 minutes, I barely got out of the shower when I heard your car come up the driveway.”

Silence.

She didn’t say anything else. She wanted to concentrate on the positive so started thinking of the previous years. She remembered the sleepless nights and difficult days, the books they would read at night and the homework she ends up writing just because one of the children was tired. Now they have their own life. Her eldest works as an accountant, her girl is still studying to be a doctor, and now her baby is going away to pursue his dreams.

She looked over at her husband who looked dead serious. She didn’t want to speak to ensure that the night’s not ruined and she started fiddling with her shawl.

They walked in. Her husband didn’t bother to wait for her and reached the table where their children were sitting and flipping through the menus.

“Finally, mom! We thought you’d never make it! Why are you wearing heels? You don’t even know how to walk in them!”

“Dad, couldn’t you at least make her wear something better? I’ve seen this dress a million times, it’s the one she wears for everything!”

“Excuse me, I have to visit the ladies’ room.” She walked into the stall and started crying. This wasn’t how she expected the night to start. She didn’t think her children would be so mean. Didn’t they know of everything she has done for them? Don’t they know she’s their mother.

She stopped crying when she heard the bathroom door open. A lady in heels walked in. “Yes, Janice, I’m here already. He’s telling her tonight. They’ll just have dinner then he’ll tell her. We planned it so well! I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she finds out we’ve been together for 10 years. I’m not a home wrecker, she doesn’t deserve him. We already established our new office in Delaware, he says he doesn’t want to be around anything that reminds him of her. Yes I’ll get her ring, that old hag! He says giving her his mother’s ring was the worst decision he made after marrying her. No, I won’t let her keep it. Did you see the diamonds on it? She doesn’t even know how to wear it. Hahaha yes she’s wearing that hideous floral dress…”

Silence…

April 11, 2015 0

Bedoor Bluemoon

Everyday writing to expose the soul

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