On the 20th of June

I sat in my office next to my window. The wind blew, and the hot air outside seemed to penetrate my insides although I sat completely protected. The tree leaves rustled.

I sat on this chair in the midst of my scattered papers. I listened to this song and realised...
I truly am in love with love.

For the first time in a very long time, my heart is stuck in my throat.
Oh have I missed you...

"I am the war of Head vs. Heart"

And it's always this way...

That's What I've Always Done...

I've been an avid Dashboard Confessional fan since I was 15. I cannot begin to describe their geniosity, all that can be done is listen to their music.

Listen to their music starting with  Hands Down (my all time favorite), Stolen, and all the way down to Belle of the Boulevard and you should get a sense of their brilliance. There is no official video for the track I've posted yet, but the music and the lyrics say it all.

Dashboard Confessional genius

Personally, I've never done anything else. And I'll continue to do that right this instant too, because it only takes a small word, a small sentence or a small gesture to change eveyrthing that's been in the making for months. In the end I'll always blame it on the changes.

As much as I like living my "right nows", as much as I'd really really like to fast forward 3 years in to the future. You know... just to check where it's going and if things would ever fall into place, or where I'd really end up in that time.
Suddenly, I feel 16 again saying that... and listening to Dashboard Confessional... and not making a shred of sense.

Say Hello To The Real Thing

Photo taken by Mehdi Slaoui

Just wanted to post the real thing. The real tremendous view. This is it during dusk, as beautiful as the Nile river could possibly be. The photo itself is taken by a colleague (and friend!) of mine- he went ahead, got himself one of those nice big cameras, and started taking pictures, that I have to honestly say are pretty good.

I suggest listening to this today.

This Morning, Last Night

Did I ever mention I have a Death Cab T-shirt? I do.


I got it from a thrift store when I went broke in the US. It didn't bother me the slightest that this was owned and worn by someone else, on the contrary, I was surprised someone let it go, not matter what had happened to it. I like it. I wear it too. I washed it a couple of times before I did that, but I do wear it.

This is my this morning and it is my last night.

Doubt and Decision

Damn you Jason Mraz, for making so much sense.

Even though I've been keeping myself out of the blogosphere the past month up until yesterday -due to many irritable blogs that just make my blood boil- this man's blog was just too difficult not to keep updated with.

The fact that he's an internationally renowned artist (genius musician I say) and still blogs almost twice a week and allows people to comment on his posts, just blows me away! Respect, respect, respect.

His topics are genuine, they're humane, they're thoughtful and they make you feel that other than the fact that he has a gazillion fans, deep down there, he's just like you and me.

It also seems like he's out to get me. While my previous post had a mini rant against new year's resolutions and all the hype that goes with it, he posted this. Now, I'm still a 100% convinced that new year's is overrated, but I have to admit I can back off a little and recognize the fact that this is a begining of a decade.

In a decade, you will be grown up and moved out, possibly married and a parent of your own. In 10 years, our planet’s population will be almost double what it is now while the possibility of losing your own parents are even greater. The food demand will almost-certainly still be supplied by a military-industrialized system while our armed forces will either be assisting and rebuilding the world or adding more fuel to the fire. No matter what age group or demographic you’re in, 2010 is now and you are its generation.

That's just the tip of the iceberg.

It's my generation at stake here. We're going to be held responsible. We aren't kids anymore- I'm 21 for God's sake! Who saw that coming?!

I don't know about the getting married and having kids part; it seems highly doubtful right now (ha. ha. ha.), but oh dear do I know about the other big and small messes we'll have to manage. I believe in the power of possibility too Jason, but I also believe in the power of responsibility. It's scary.

I still won't come up with a list of things I will committ to doing for the year (nor for the decade for that matter), I know I won't follow through. But what I will do is two things:

1. Take pride in the fact that I actually admitted I might be wrong, and that I opened up my ears and mind to someone else's take on things
2. And I'll committ to being committed to daily resolutions that encompass not only myself and my tiny life on Earth, but also to my country and to Earth itself.

I will not hinge my life in the next year or 10 on one night, I'll hinge it on every night.

How about that for grand decisions?

Two Thousand and... Oh Give Me a Break!

I refuse to be the resolutions-forming kind of girl. I won't waste an entire week of my life thinking of sassy, witty, creative "new year's resolutions" that I'm bound to forget about a week later. It's a week like every other and time is precious.

Once a year we celebrate a night that takes us into a new year. We have this absolute conviction that the New Year will bring us happiness, that we'll change our lifestyle, that we'll lose weight, that we'll fall in love, that we'll be successful and independent. God bless man's forgetfulness; to repeat the same night and same mental routine year after year. I say "we" because, up to this point, I am a part of it. But that is no longer.

I'm a part of last year, I'm part of next year, I’m part of every year to date. Every year is a part of me.

A friend told me a couple of days ago "if you can't beat the system, be part of the system"... or something like that anyways.
I laughed it off at first. It just sounded too... preach-y. But then I gave it second thought this evening. I've never tried to fight the system. I was born different, and I did my absolute best to systemize myself ever since. Excuse me, but I think I've succeeded to an extent- at least I'm capable of humor that other people actually get.

Freak the system.

Self-righteousness is unbecoming. I am flawed. Seriously and in all the ugliness the word could imply: flawed. I hate it, I accept it, I do not brag about it. At least I try not to- I can at least admit that.

Borrowed from Postsecret

My graduation was on Thursday the 24th and it was to be one of the most signifcant events of my life. It was absolutely amazing to be there in cap and gown. My older sister was in tears the second she saw me step out in the march. Her tears brought tears to mine, only then did I realize how major it was. The excitement, the day, the rush, it flowed through my veins; I was high on "graduation-stacy". Yet the second my foot crossed my home's threshold, the bubble burst. It was imperfect, it was unsatisfactory- it was not what I expected. I ignored it and moved on. Just like I did my high school prom.

Actually when I think about it, I'm rarely ever satisfied. That's one more very common human flaw (duh?). Some people get over themselves and learn how to be contented and fulfilled, and some people fail miserably. I can safely say I'm with the second group. I'm not satisfied with the job I have even though I like it plenty. I'm not satisfied with my financial situation. And I won't even begin to discuss my personal life.
Will I ever be satisfied though? Do I need to be? Or does this come automatically with ambition?

Another friend snapped me out of it for about two seconds though: "saying that you lack inspiration and achievement is just lame, you just achieved something you sought for the past 18 years: you're a college graduate. From one of the best schools too!"

Eye-opener, while it lasted. But it has its repercussions.

Achievement is engraved in the depths of me. "Demotivation" is a big recurrent word in my dictionary, but "quitting" is nonexistent.

She's the mommy, she's the sister, she's the motivation

A third friend whom I truly do appreciate got me a new truly fantastic book (that my mother started reading before me. So much for the concept of "property"!).

As I sat and stared at the book's cover and smelled its -then- unread pages, I made a grand discovery: I am not in the least bit interested in writing a book. I do not care about seeing my name in bold on a book's spine- I've already done that. I'm not one with fiction-writing talents either. Not the least bit. And I do not have a certain message that I'd like to convey to the world that I cannot articulate through my blog. Not that anyone would read a book I write, people barely read my blog.

There is a saying in Arabic "من يطلب الولاية لا يولى". He who asks for authority, should not be given authority.

Based on those exceptionally wise words I theorize the following: who ask for fame, should not be given fame. Fame, power, authority and all other similar concepts are consequences, they should not be targets. Does that sound too self-righteous? I apologize.

I have my eternal inspirations. I have inspiration that pops in every six months. I cannot be brought down -intentionally or not- for long. To a lot of people's misery, I do re-surface.

(Again this is someone's secret as much as it is mine)

And that is all I need to know to go on.

Part-Timing My A**

I have no idea why I'm in this office right now. No seriously... no clue! I also have no idea why in heaven and hell I volunteered to come in the office today... what an idiot.

I'm supposed to be a part-timer. I'm supposed to work 3 days a week. Felxibility is good, stupidity is bad.
But I always try to get some sort of kick out of it anyways. So..ahem.. right now, in stead of working on an introduction to the hugest presentation I had ever seen in my life and in stead of working data on (yet another) excel sheet, I decided to watch Glee! My new absolute favorite show.

Glee!

Into good music, highschool retards, outrageous slushie-smacking and a whole load of perfectly delivered lines by an ex-army-hitperson-horse steroids-consuming cheerleading coach? Watch it! Just let me say that this show isn't for everyone, this kind of show isn't in the grey area at all either; you'll either love it, or you'll hate it.
You have been warned.