Steaks and Burgers…
March 23, 2009 at 11:55 am (JT, MM, P, anger, annoying people, dating, depression, ex files, frustration, lament, longing)
I’m feeling incredibly sleepy and a little down too. As for JT, I think I’m going to drop off the radar and see if he even notices. No more calls, emails (not even going to reply) and not going to be online for longer than I have or want to. Part of me is scared that he really won’t notice and if I were really dead, I’d have been eaten by stray dogs by the time he realises I haven’t been around.
I miss him and I love him, but I’m not ready to give up on him. I’m not interested in anyone right now, and considering my options, I don’t think I even want to. I don’t to break-up, yet I don’t want to cheat. Yea, there are a few exs in my office I could use for a ‘pick-me-up’ b-call, but I’m not interested in making a fool of myself by putting out feelers and getting rejected. I’m not afraid of rejection; I’m just tired of it. Plus remembering how things went, I’m not sure if they’re even quality b-calls. I mean, I do have some standards. I want my A-grade Texan steak home, but if I am so hungry that I need to eat, the burgers on display are not enough to nip the munchies. Plus, they’re not good for me and I’ll get a stomach-ache or worse – like food poisoning.
I want my steak dammit!
Thinking of you…
March 22, 2009 at 12:23 am (JT, MM, anger, depression, frustration, lament, longing)
Just got back from “He’s Just Not That Into You”. It was a pretty awesome movie, but part of me wishes I hadn’t. Because I was supposed to watch this movie JT – not to mention many others I didn’t go to because I said I’d go with him. Plus I missed him wayy too much after this movie.
Like the book, the movie covers so many aspects about relationships and why women torture themselves for men who are jerks and the answer is simple – he’s just not that into you. But what do I do? My situation with him is complicated, and I’m not trying to make it complicated or add extra drama. Trust me, I don’t need anymore drama in my life.
But what do I do? He can’t call me because he’s in a rather difficult place. I’m currently having a steamy affair with his voice-mail the past week because he’s probably either super busy or not on site. The most I ever got hold of him was when he came online for a while. I feel like an army wife/gf. When he doesn’t reply, I don’t know if its because he’s busy or dead. I try not to think it’s about losing interest because I know him enough to be upfront about that. I miss him so much, yet missing him doesn’t help one bit. How do I deal with this? What do I do? When I hear his voice, every doubt, suspicion, frustration and loneliness disappears. But then, after I keep the phone, I feel all alone and single and frustrated.
I told him I loved him. He didn’t reply. I didn’t say it to expect a reply. Perhaps that wasn’t the smartest move to say it so soon. But I said it. I got tired of having to say ‘I miss you’ everytime I wanted to say how much I missed him and loved him and how it hurts not having him here with me. I just want him back home – I want him here with me.
I’m sleepy and cranky. I’m heading to bed – alone.
I also found out today from friends of friends and quite accidentally through conversation that MM pretty much had a girlfriend when we hooked up. And still does. I shouldn’t care, but I do feel rather idiotic. I didn’t bother asking at that time because like reasonable people, him showing interest in me implied he was single. I’m not the hottest babe that anyone would hit on me. So why would someone who is already with someone look at a plain Jane like me or even try to pursue me? Oh, and just to confirm a few facts, I found out he also stopped being my FB friend. Like in the movie, it’s exhausting being rejected by different portals of communications and technologies.
Office Rants…
March 18, 2009 at 11:13 am (anger, annoying people, frustration)
The internet and connection speeds are so fast in my office that I simply have no time to do anything else. Or blog. For the naïve, that was being sarcastic.
Mom messaged me and so far she’s fine and hopefully nowhere near. So that’s a sigh of relief.
On the other hand, I’m feeling really down today. And the inactivity and slowness of our internet speed just gives me more time to think about things I’d rather not. I’m missing JT, yet the distance is very frustrating. And even though I know I’m being totally unfair in saying this, I wish he’d be more attentive to me. I right now feel pretty ignored and very alone. And being depressed makes it worse. Or is it the loneliness that furthers the depression? Chicken and egg story.
Good news though is that today is my last day for the week and I now get Thursdays and Fridays off. Not too happy about waking up early on a Saturday, but I rather like working on a weekend as no-ones around or breathing down my neck. Like my paranoid boss’ boss. For those not knowing Dubai weekends, it’s normally Friday-Saturday, with Friday as the official day off.
With the cuts that happened recently, things have become Big Brother in the office. If I even breathe about something non-office related, I get told off oh-so-subtlety. I’ve been given the task of trying to help increase our site’s traffic through social networking. Now, I’ve made the official ones for twitter and FB, but I also log on to my personal to see how it looks like to a non-admin member. And make sure non-admin people don’t have unwanted functions or access. My luck seems to be that every time I log on to my personal to check my changes, the big B passes by and asks what I’m doing. Despite mentioning what I’m doing, I get a kindly warning from my boss (who understands btw) that the BB thinks I’m doing ‘nothing’.
I can’t be always having stuff to do on the site! Doesn’t mean I slack off. Before I do my extra assignment, I finish every single daily task required on my shift, before time and mostly accurate, considering the short time I’ve had learning the ropes and the fact that I’m new to journo after years of training in broadcast. If I take a five minute breather to either do the extra optional tasks given to me, or God forbid, update my personal budgeting on excel, I get told off for doing no work. I am rather bugged. And another reason why I like night or weekend shifts – no BB breathing down my shoulder.
I don’t understand what these people want. I mean I understand the need for efficiency, but not at the rate or risk of demoralising everyone or working them to death. I’m fed up, yet I want to stay because I am passionate about my current job, despite annoyances. Just give me a break ok? Haven’t I just worked 10 days in a row, including weekends, sometimes working solo despite being a newbie, with no complaint?
Random Stuff…
March 16, 2009 at 11:31 pm (JT, anger, annoying people, depression, frustration, lament, longing, mom whining)
You may have noticed I tweaked my blog a little for more space. And cooler features. There might be more tweaking as I go along. Damn custom name hasn’t kicked in yet. With the help of a friend, cookiemonster, I managed to atleast get a redirection: if you click on www.the-media-junkie.com, it will take you back to this blog. But if you comment, it goes back to my blogspot address. Oh phooey.
Don’t go changing the blog address yet. Still too many kinks to have fully moved to my custom name.
That aside, I’ve been feeling totally down in the dumps the past few days. Probably triggered by my best friend’s birthday, and the fact that mine’s about a month away. Birthdays suck. As JT said: “You’re not 4 anymore.” To which I replied: “No I’m not, I’m just 4+21 years old!”
But I also think the downer is due to the fact that I stopped taking all my medications and my hormones are all running loose again, including my personal favorite, depression. Ever since the meds, I’ve only had to deal with this annoying bugger a few days before Aunt Flo’s visit – in other words PMS. But I stopped this month because I’m low in cash thanks to the fact that I spent about half my salary in repairing my car and for registering it. And the meds and doctors visit cost quite a bot every month, so I skipped a month and said I’m not in town to save that extra cash. Except now I’m suicidally depressed. Again. Oh no, I’m not going to kill myself, but most days I feel like I have no reason for being or existing. The smallest slight seems like the biggest offense. I’m moody, irritable and just feel about as big as a proton. Or neutron. Or electron. Whatever is smaller. I never enjoyed physics much.
And being in a rather frustrating, but circumstantial, long-distance relationship doesn’t help when I’m like this. It’s not his fault and he is in a war zone, but I wish I had more time with him. It’s not that he won’t, but can’t give the time I want. I just hope he comes soon. I do miss him so. And I hope he is safe.
Mum’s going away for a 10 day trip to the Cape and Pretoria, so it’s just me and myself at home for the next few days. Even more depressing. There was a time when I’d be glad mom is gone so that I could do all the things I normally wouldn’t do when she’s here, like stay out late and come home, rather than sleeping over at a friend’s. Or perhaps invite my current squeeze at home, if I had any. Or go to theirs overnight. Whatever. I’m now just boring. I go to work, come home, cook and clean, catch up on my TV, news and blogs online and then sleep, to repeat the cycle. On weekends perhaps sleep in late and do a slightly more thorough cleaning of the house. Oh crap – I’m turning into my mom without the kids and divorces!
Had an interesting conversation today on genetics and gender. Something on the lines of what gender you can expect your kids to be, based on the number of boys/girls in previous generations. Also, since gender is linked to a man’s gene, it’s more important to look at the dad’s lineage of any family to get a guess or odds on what gender kid you can expect. From my lineage, I have a greater chance of having boys than girls, as backed up by the fact that I have a nephew. Also, with whatever I know of JT’s history, he has a very good chance of having a boy. So with those two facts, there’s a very good chance I will have a boy. Although frankly speaking, I’m not sure if I want to have a boy with JT. I’d be scared for him as much as I’m scared for JT now. Because it’s a family tradition in his that all boys serve in the forces. And I personally do not want that. Nor do I want him to be considered a pansy either. So I’d much rather have a girl – less worry, until she decides she wants to make her daddy proud and join the army *shudder* Can’t really predict these things can you? For all I know, regardless of gender, my kids with him (if any and if we do eventually get married to have them) will do the exact opposite of what I want – which is not go into war zones. Although the irony of life is the person who he’s now replacing survived the chaos of another country, only to get attacked in his own town on vacation.
It’s late and I need to get up early. G’night.
The B’day Blues…
March 15, 2009 at 10:15 am (anger, annoying people, birthdays, depression, ex files, frustration, spooky stuff)
There’s a feeling I’ve been wrestling with since this weekend. A feeling of unfairness, to a point of petty jealousy, which is something I don’t enjoy feeling.
Birthdays depress me. Be it my own, or anyone else’s, the joy has long since left – perhaps at around the age of 16, which was a defining age for me in many ways. A year I became a woman in more ways than one. A year where I lost my innocence and rose-tinted optimism for life. Where I saw people for who they are – where every person became grey rather than black and white, although they were deeper shades of grey than an off-white. Where I had to grow up pretty fast – I felt like I I went straight from childhood to being middle-aged, missing out the fun teenage years, but stuck with the crappy stuff.
Anyway, back to birthdays. Most people love it because it’s the one day they can get away with practically anything and people are generally nice to you. A day when you’re made to feel special, loved, needed and wanted. Where you feel like someone does care whether you exist or not. Since hitting my 20’s, this hasn’t been much the case. I mean my birthdays overall sucked: either my current squeeze was out of town, only to dump me just before, or in town to personally dump me just before. Or stand me up on my birthday. As for friends, the really close ones weren’t in town, the acquaintances say they will come but stand me up anyway (without bothering to inform me) and the silver-lining friends surprising me unexpectantly. As for family, it’s been pretty much a tug-of-war for who gets me on what day. I suppose I should felt flattered that I celebrate my birthday on so many days, but most times I just wished I had everyone together instead of feeling like a custody-kid. I’m not ungrateful: the people who eventually did remember and call or showed up did make my day just that much nicer.
But what I wish for is really people asking me what I’m doing for my birthday and wanting to come see me, rather than me chasing everyone around for the event. And no dumb excuses like no ride, early curfew, no money and what not. I don’t really care about gifts – I mean I like ‘em, but showing up is much better than a material possession. Or even hand-made, cheap-to-almost-nothing cost stuff, but thoughtful. And being in town would be nice too. And preferably a month gap after my day to dump me, if you must.
So I find it really hard to have empathy for a girl who has everyone looking out for her whining about ‘being single’ this time in five years on her birthday. She has an intact family who spoil her on her day. Friends who show up, including me. Guys who like her enough to mail a birthday package all the way from US. People care. It could be so much worse – she could have my crummy luck.
Sometimes, life can be so unfair. It gave me a pretty decent work and career life, but a really sucky personal life. And birthday too – it had to fall on exam times.
UPDATE: My horroscope for the day: “Enough thinking about yourself, Mars! The hour has now arrived to draw some conclusions. You are at the end of the lengthy tome you were writing on your inner life. You will have to integrate what you have learned with the different emotions and situations that you are in now. “Normalization” will be the key word in the days to come…“
Daniel Cleaver…
March 11, 2009 at 11:24 am (JT, MM, anger, annoying people, confessions, frustration, lament, longing)
I think I have found my “Daniel Cleaver“. The person who is annoyingly charming, who I unfortunately see every day at work (his shifts seem to magically synchronize with mine – how unfortunate), and the person I utterly detest and despise, yet I keep looking over whenever he’s around and get a slight pinch of lust. Or is it envy? Or perhaps just desperation and loneliness due to circumstances I can’t really help?
Who am I talking about? MM. His smile – no matter how irritating – has a roguish appeal that makes me smile instead of wanting to pummel him, a deep voice that sends shivers rather than make me want to silence and a silhouette that *sigh* makes me think of things I shouldn’t when I really should be thinking of ways to make it black and blue.
Not good at all. But not to worry. I’m not interested beyond eye-candy and stolen glances, and we both just avoid each other most times, unless there’s an IT problem. Which there always is because we have the most amazingly fast, stable and efficient machines and servers in Dubai (sarcasm for those who are naïve). So I get my eye-candy as he reaches over to fix a wire, or bends down to check a connection (I get a glimpse of weird fish-bone boxers :S).
Dammit JT!!! Just come back here super soon. I’d rather be thinking saucy thoughts of you than stupid fish-bone-patterned boxer-wearing IT jerks.
"If you don’t like it, you can leave"
March 8, 2009 at 6:39 pm (anger, annoying people, frustration, prejudices)
I pretty much had my point proven in the following comment on a previous post:
You should leave. We dont want you here, and unless you can make parata, or good tea with karak, you wont get much respect. Oh, AND on top of that you’re a woman.
So a parata woman who bitches and is “too good” for her own country that she needs to sulk here.
This situation is AMAZING. because trust me, if the UAE ever smells any democracy, and Emaratis are given any kinds of rights in terms of voting, it WILL GET MUCH WORSE FOR YOU.
Probably one of the biggest reasons why we dont see a push towards that, is that we would start voting against foreigners in every way possible. THAT would be progress. Letting you take over my country (I dont care what you feel cunt bag) isnt going to happen.
THESE are the feelings of the new, and educated, lower higher class and higher middle class of the UAE. Beware. Be afraid.
Somehow, it’s just so – I can’t find the word – that I can’t even be offended anymore. Or laugh. Or cry. It just makes me very sad. I’m sure this isn’t the end of it.
A part of me thought of not publishing it, or deleting it. But then I realized that it’s no point censoring maliciousness or stupidity (in my opinion), so I published it.
And yes, I’m going to get a lot of “if you don’t like it you can leave” comments, so save yourself the trouble from doing so. Get the office boy to do it instead. It’s a running joke now – if you don’t like it you can leave.
PS: For the record, I have no interest in politics or government, I’m not even crazy about citizenship – I can live without it. All this ‘cunt bag’ wants is some frikkin’ RESPECT.
PPS: You can’t even spell paraTHA properly, nor is there such a thing called karak. Karak means ’strong’. And not every frikkin Indian here is a domestic help. Douchebag.
Work Whining…
March 2, 2009 at 12:22 pm (anger, annoying people, holiday)
Looks like I’m on the morning shift all week this week. And thanks to the recent date skirmish, I have to probably work 6 days instead of 5 to get my extra free day that I need for my exam in April.
I’m working two extra days from now till April so I don’t have to take days from my annual leave just for the GRE. And since it was to fall this Sunday, it would be a normal day for me but I’d get the extra day because it would be a public holiday. But thanks to some morons, it’s now on Saturday, when I’m supposed to be off anyway. So to get that extra day, I’ll have to work six days. Boohoo. Idiots. Morons. A-holes. I’m super mad.
Also another one of us left. Even more double shifts. Ugh. Not fair.
More later when I’m home.
Ms. Hyde…
February 16, 2009 at 1:45 am (JT, anger, annoying people, depression, frustration)
Today was my first day at the night shift, starting at 3pm and ending by midnight, sometimes later depending on when all the stories from the print newspaper are available for processing and publishing online. It is more peaceful, and at the same time, more busy than the mornings. It’s a different environment. I like it. No-one looking over my shoulder, less people and rather friendlier ones. Not that the morning staff isn’t. But because there’s a rush and more staff, it’s nothing more than polite conversation. At night, on the other hand, it’s just the night editor, me, and one web guy who handles the processing of the print articles from Quark to a form we can use online.
Anyway, I was happy about not having to wake up so early, although my morning shift starts at 10am. Even though I’m up by 7am most days, I tend to lounge around a bit and then end up feeling sleepy by 9ish, when it’s time for me to mosey on to work. So rather happy I could have a lie-in instead for today.
But it was one of those ‘Hyde’ days where I get so hormonal that even my strongest will cannot keep it in check. I become a crazed, clingy, sobbing mess of emotions that even the smallest thing can trigger my waterworks. Even nothing at all. I chip a nail – sob. I see a cute cat – sniffle. I get an email – leaky faucet. I burn my pancake – waterworks. My download fails – dam bursts.
I even sobbed at work, that’s how bad it was. I generally am quite good at keeping my emotions at check, even when I’m boiling inside or so angry I could cry. I’m very good at that. Infact, one professor in college, known for being quite cutting if you ever incurred his wrath, admitted grudgingly that no matter what he said, I never showed any emotion. I’m quite the poker face.
So there I was at work with a runny nose, puffy eyes, red nose and silent, heaving sobs because I had difficulty breathing from a blocked nose. It wasn’t very obvious unless someone strolled upto my desk and saw the roadkill that was my face. But luckily, no-one walked up to my desk and when I realized I couldn’t sniff my snot back up, I went to the bathroom for tissues and a clean up.
Part of the continuous waterworks was the frustration at being so far from JT. It’s been over three months and the hormones made it worse. I felt crappy that I make an effort, but he doesn’t. But I know it isn’t because he won’t, it’s because he can’t. He’s swamped with work in a place where mistakes can mean the difference between life and death. I understand that. And whenever he can, he does little things to show he cares and misses me. Unfortunately, Saturday was not one such day, which made my lil gift giving anti-climatic. He loved it and appreciated it, but couldn’t reciprocate in return, but would if he could and will when he can. I understand. But not when I was hormonal.
I kinda exposed my Hyde-side to him earlier in the day when he unfortunately could not respond in support to a sobbing, emotional mess of a girlfriend. He did take the time later to email me and say what he felt, so things worked out OK. But in between the phone call and email, I felt even worse because I felt like I made a fool of myself and that he’d realize like my exs that I’m a loon and that he should run as fast as he can away from me. But he didn’t Not yet. I’m always worried one day, somehow or somewhere I will slip up, make a mistake and he’ll just vanish like everyone else. I’m paranoid like that. Even more so when I’m Hyde.
Valentine Weekend…
February 14, 2009 at 8:26 pm (JT, anger, annoying people, betrayal, cars, frustration, happy thoughts, holiday, lament, longing)
It’s been a while. I’m blogging infrequently nowadays as things are taking up my time and brain space. I simply get too exhausted to write once I’m home. I wouldn’t be surprised if this turns into a weekly, rather than daily thing.
Anyway, I promised to tell you all today what I had in store for my lovely JT. I had planned this little project sometime in January, and enlisted the help of my best bud Hamy who’s returned from US to Dubai for good. What I did was dress up in some costumes I had, and some pretty lingerie (nothing too revealing) and took snaps of myself ala Playboy meets VS catalog and made a faux Playboy Special Edition 6-page spread for him, including all the write up and centerfold and layout of the mag.
I found a digital copy online – obviously as Dubai won’t allow these types of magazines in unless you sneak your own personal copy in somewhere – and che4cked it out. Expecting much nudity, I was very surprised to find it limited to perhaps 10-15 pages in total on a 100-page edition. Most are articles, jokes, interviews, short stories, etc. Anyway, my focus was on the Playmate of the Month – as that was the style I was going for. Don’t worry about me though – I’m very, very paranoid about photos of myself leaking online, so I usually never take any ‘risque’ photos. They were more on the lines of tiny top, short skirt, stocking and a dressy bra peeping through something I might wear to a slutty costume party. So I did two types – the cabaret performer and the naughty school girl. Photoshopped it to desaturate the background and focus on the bright colors I wore – red and black & red and magenta.
The whole point of that exercise was that he told me he had the ‘naughty school girl’ fantasy in his head, even more so when I told him I went to one for A-Levels. Not that my real uniforms are remotely sexy – anything but. My first school made me resemble a walking green graph-sheet or checkered tablecloth, while the other was still comparably decent in a white-shirt-with-navy-skirt combo. And since things are so long-distance for the time being, I thought I might send him a teaser of what the fantasy would be.
He loved it. He said it made his day and he really loved the effort and appreciated it. Mission accomplished. I miss him so much. I wish he’d come back soon. March is way too far away.
On the other hand, the day before completely fucked up my mood. I met up with Hamy and decided to head to MoE on Friday. Bad idea. There is absolutely no parking to be found on a Friday evening there. After spending 45 minutes going in circles for parking, we spotted one. But I went a little too ahead from the car and backed up on the side to claim my stake, as well as to allow traffic. I wasn’t completely infront, so it’s not like I was reversing. I was at level with it, so needed to back a little to allow the car to leave.
That’s when Miss Bitch from behind rode my ass and wouldn’t allow me to back just an extra foot. I asked my friend to get out of the car and block the spot as the guy was leaving. Miss Bitch starting honking. I kept reversing bit by bit. I miscalculated a little and touched her car at like 2kmph. Emphasis on touch. Yes, it was my fault. I admit that. At the same time another parking space two cars ahead cleared so I moved in to not block traffic. I parked and immediately went to deal with the lady to apologize and assess damage and exchange numbers if necessary. The woman (by now I realized she was Emirati) went postal on me and started screaming. I still tried being polite, checked my car, checked hers saw there was no damage. No harm done. Hers had a dent in the front on the wrong side – plus it looked much more serious and older. She started screaming at me and saying that I purposely hit the car, screaming insults and said she would call the cops. I said look, no need for all that as there was no damage and I apologized many times and admitted it was my mistake. She just kept screaming and insulting me and I finally said “Fine, call the police. See if I care.” Bitch sniffed and walked off in a huff.
My mood was completely ruined. If I was Emirati or she was Indian, this would have never happened. No matter what accident I’ve been in, my fault or theirs, big damage or not, no-one has ever been this rude to me. Angry yes. But civil regardless. The minute she saw I was Indian she felt like she could say any crap to me and take it because she is God’s gift to the world being Emirati.
Everyday, small things like rude drivers, people who cut in queues because it’s their country and other miscellaneous rude behavior piss me off. And again emphasize the fact that I am a stranger in my own home. Dubai is home. Unfortunately, I was born of the wrong race. I’ll never be accepted here and will be treated by dirt by those who are of the ‘right’ race. Which is why I want to leave. And they want me to leave. Never mind the fact I worked here, my parents worked here, gave so much to this place. And that by birth, this is my land. My passport defines me here. And my passport tells them I am worse than scum. Forget the fact that I’m educated from here, can do my work much better than many of the nationals, forget people from my ’supposed’ country. I will still be paid much, much, much less than I deserve. Because my passport says so.
Now I do know not every Emirati is rude or obnoxious. Many of the locals I work with and have also met elsewhere are awesome and humble and friendly. Unfortunately, I also noticed most of them are also ‘half-n-half’s. Their fathers/mothers either married a foreigner, or they are 3-4th generation North/East Africans or Iranians.
I’m just so frustrated. I want to stay here, yet situations are making it harder for me to stay. I just wish someone realized that this will not keep a population ‘pure’ nor will they endear themselves to anyone by keeping it up. There’s too little of them to run the country on their own. No matter what, they need expats. Expats who want to call this place home and be part of the local population. And no, it isn’t about getting an Emirati citizenship. Not in the sense of “Oh, I’m just dying to be an Emirati”. They want to be naturalized. Have a home and not get kicked out when they have no job or retire. Live here, die here. Raise children and grandchildren who will be proud to have Dubai as their home and consider it home, despite whatever their original race was. Not everyone wants to come here, earn loads of cash and then leave to wherever they came from.
But who cares? Who listens? No-one. Because they don’t care about my opinions and have said so quite bluntly and rudely whenever I have mentioned something. I have no say at all. I am a nobody here. The only way people will listen is when it’s too late. Or I marry and Emirati or was wealthy.
I am not dissing Dubai, nor is it my intention. I love Dubai and those who can afford, it is an amazing place to be. But it is no longer the welcoming home I once felt. Even when my family stayed in USA for a short period and tried to settle in after immigration, it didn’t work out and we came back. For me, Dubai was always home, and that’s what I’d tell my school friends and teachers when asked. “Where are you from?” I’d reply Dubai, not India nor Bangladesh. Those are just summer holidays where I see my relatives, but it was never home for me. I was never ‘going back home for the holidays’. I was always ‘going abroad for the holidays’. Dubai is my home dammit! I’m born here too! All I want from all this is respect and dignity. And treated equally. Treated like a human being, not like beneath someone with all those arrogant people.
