Missing…

March 4, 2009 at 10:27 pm (JT, annoying people, betrayal, confessions, depression, frustration, happy thoughts, lament, longing)

Looks like I’m on the morning shift for a while now – for the next few months at least. Another person might – might- be leaving so I may have to do the weekend shift, despite finding Sunday (a weekday here) is the public holiday for us and I will get my lieu day for working then. So with the one weekend day and Sunday, I’ll get the two days I need for the GRE in April.

It’s been a chain reaction at work. Person A got laid off, person B had to resign due to her spouse I believe being transferred or leaving the country. Now person C might leave too, due to being person A’s partner and kinda the solidarity thing. I heard that person A got a job due to a big dude who recently left the place, and hence I guess got the cut too. But person A isn’t worried cos he and big dude are friends and will find him something, which means that perhaps person C isn’t bothered.

But means the DE, NE and me are left, working at double time on half-capacity. Kinda fun to be getting more responsibilities, but kinda sucks because I’m unsure about my future ‘cos of the recession and so many cuts. Bonuses I’m not bothered, but I do wish I could get a pay rise now that I’m doing more than I should, especially as I’m just a month old into the new stuff and way too much being put on me. Plus extra shifts. And I’ve been here in the company for about two years now, with only one pay hike six months in the job. I’m not fussy, but a lil extra would really help, plus make me feel just a lil less like everyone’s work-whore here. Lol – work-whore – I do surprise myself sometimes.

On the other hand, I really do like the new place and it’s helping me in visualizing what I want to do with myself. Film production is taking a back seat for sure – I can’t give it up completely, but I’m thinking more writing, more scripts, perhaps venture into broadcast journalism. Things are looking up for me definitely if I can look past the doom and gloom and frustration I feel most times. I’m not ungrateful. I do feel thankful for the things I have, and am grateful that despite the crap happening world over, someone is looking out for me – be it Allah, or well-wishers. I apparently have done something right in this life to so far survive the recession. It could be worse.

Doesn’t mean I’m not bummed out, or feel unhappy about the way certain things have turned out. Personally, things are still a little frustrating and messy. Family issues for sure, but I decided long time ago not to go too deeply into them anymore – I just get slapped in the face for expressing how I feel, even if it’s a bit nasty and I was blowing steam. People never like dirty laundry hanging out for all too see, but it doesn’t make them anymore pure. I’m not pure for sure and I don’t go around thinking I’m any better. I have tons of probs, issues, and I have many, many flaws. I know it. I am rather nasty to myself – probably the most. I’m my own worst critic. I hate myself most days. But not enough to kill myself – yet. Probably because I have way too many responsibilities. Things or people depend on me and I try to keep my promises. If I didn’t, I would have knocked myself off a long time ago. For sanity’s sake, I’ve decided to just end many things, close chapters and never open them again. And I wish people understood that and let me just move on, instead of quoting everything I say in an effort to criticize, ridicule or hurt me. Just leave me alone.

I guess part of the frustration is also hormonally linked, and the fact that there’s no set date for JT’s arrival back here. It’s ‘asap’. But doesn’t make the date any closer. It may not even be March anymore, might go on to April, perhaps longer. Depends on how soon he can replace and train the guy he went to sub for in the first place, and how much work needs to be done there. And in reading the wires daily, it doesn’t seem to be ending. In fact, there’s talk of expanding things, more back-up, more everything. Crap. Damn you gov. For me, the curses are more personal, but I’m sure JT would see it as being un-patriotic. I honestly don’t care which country attacks who at this point, as long as he can come home. Alive, and in one piece.

I miss him so much I have no words to describe it anymore. I can’t be mad at him because I’m sure he doesn’t want to be there any longer or more than I do. But it’s work, he’s stuck, and he’s a responsible person. I’m sure I probably would be happy, but think just a little less of him, if he flicked the middle finger and just came back. Plus the fact he’d get fired too. Doesn’t change the fact I don’t miss him any less. I don’t want to look around, meet new people, see my options. I want him. Only him. Right now and right here. Thinking about it just hurts all the more. So I just pass time taking impossible shifts, working and going home to crash. Hopefully time will pass by soon enough and he’ll be back. But the waiting is agonizing.

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Kiss The Rain…

February 20, 2009 at 10:44 am (JT, Jukebox in head, betrayal, depression, emotional suicide, frustration, lament, longing)

I am so numb that I don’t thin I can say anything anymore. I messed up everything once again. It is just me – I’m in so much pain that I stopped feeling anymore. I’m the type of person who either gives all or nothing. And it’s even harder to go back to nothing once you’ve given all. I care about people way too much, and that will ultimately be my undoing.

I will let the song express what I feel now. I don’t like the video here, but I couldn’t link the original – the original video pretty much describes and shows my state of mind and feeling:

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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.

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Angry and Sad…

February 10, 2009 at 10:03 pm (JT, anger, annoying people, betrayal, depression, mom whining)

I am a little mad at my mother. Disappointed, saddened and frustrated. We had a talk about JT.

If she had said things about this a month back when I first told her, it would have made sense. Understandable. Expected even. But after a month of being cool and collected, this just blew my mind away. I’m very hurt and confused about how my mom can be so easily led stray by her so called ‘friends’.

Anyway, the talk was about how much I really knew about him. I said of course I don’t know everything as it’s new and we’re getting to know each other, but I know enough to know he isn’t some crazy stalking serial-killer and he is who he says he is. The fact that I even told my mom about him means I’ve done my homework and I’m serious about him.

She said I should find out any dirt about him online. Already did that and found nothing. Or anything alarming. She asked why a man his age stays with his mother. I said even desi men do that – what’s wrong with it? She says western guys don’t do it as it’s not in their culture. I said just because a man decides he likes keeping his family close and values family doesn’t mean he’s retarded. Or would she prefer me dating someone who prefers sending his folks to retirement home and getting rid of them?

She then said why he hasn’t had a girlfriend or married by now, being 40. I then asked if she preferred I dated him while he was married or seeing someone else. I said perhaps he’s waiting for the right person, that person perhaps being me.

She then said why don’t I ask him for his social security number and find whatever I can on public records. That’s when I lost it. I was like are you fucking crazy??!!! That’s like asking him for his bank account number and password, or something as personal. So far JT and I have been honest, and our relationship has not yet reached a point where legally and financially things are joined. Long way from that. The fact that he gave me his work number (which is on a base) is intimate enough that he’s telling the truth and he trusts me not abuse it. I do not need to dig dirt on him, nor do I have any reason to do so. The initial mistrust I have has gone and I trust him in terms of the fact that he says what he means, and he isn’t a crazy freak.

I know what brought on this change. My mom went to Mombasa recently, where she met with her sisters. The same sisters who keep poking into everyone’s affairs and meddling with them. They can’t handle their own kids, yet need to mess with my mom’s. My mom obviously wanting to share news of her daughter seeing someone told her, and possibly my grandmother. And since JT isn’t exactly the ‘ideal’ man in terms of age and culture (to them mind you, not me), they freaked out. And started telling my mom the above things.

My mom, instead of relying on her first instinct, which is to trust that I know what I’m doing, ends up going along with her meddlesome sisters. And thus comes back with all this. I mean they are stupid reasons. If she said she thinks he’s too old for me or that he’s non-Muslim, they would be valid concerns that I understand. But stupid things like that? That made me very angry and very sad. And offended. Did she really think I would be serious about someone like that? Serious enough to introduce to her?

I am hurt and disappointed that my mother could be so easily manipulated. I mean it’s not the first time it’s happened. But after a recent outbreak of drama, I had hoped my mom understood that even though her sisters might mean well, most times their advice is unneeded and that they need to mind their own affairs first before being in any position to tell my mom what to do. But she always loses common sense and gets stupid when her sisters are involved.

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Alone…

January 14, 2009 at 11:45 pm (JT, P, anger, annoying people, baby, betrayal, cats, confessions, dad whining, depression, frenemy, frustration, funny links, lament, longing, sister)

Have you ever had days where you feel so alone despite being surrounded by people? Where you feel isolated in your own world, and unable to reach out? Where you are just so numb that no pain, no emotion, can change the void of feeling?

That’s pretty much how I felt today. Dreaded getting out of bed, to only dread getting out of my room. Once getting out of my room, I dreaded changing out of my PJs. When I changed, I dreaded going out of my house. Got in my car, and dreaded starting it and moving. Once I went on auto-pilot and drove to work, I dreaded stopping and parking. Now parked, I dreaded getting out of the car. Got into work, not in the mood to talk to anyone. Luckily, I’m invisible so for the most part, no-one bothered. I needed to go to the bathroom. I dreaded getting out of my hidey-hole of a desk and going past people, having to plaster a smile and say hello on my way to the bathroom. Once I realized it might be more embarrassing having an accident at 25, I got up and dialed fake numbers on my phone on the way so as not to notice people. Once in the stall, I refused to get out of the bathroom after doing my business. But then I realized I’m a bigger germophobe than being inert, I reluctantly left the toilet to wash my hands immediately – I think I have hand washing OCD. I always need anti-bacterial soap. If it isn’t anti-bacterial, I have a hand sanitizer in my bag. That still doesn’t stop me from getting infections either up or down.

Then I left for work, not wanting go home and having to chit-chat with mom or my gran. So got home and went straight to my room before anyone noticed. And vegged out till I started blogging this post. JT hasn’t been online since yesterday. He must be traveling still. They’ve been shifted around a bit and ever since I finally got a hold of him after Dubai, he’s always informed me of where he is. Not exact location or anything, just when he’ll be online, when he won’t or when he’s traveling to different locations. He said he’d be on sometime today and maybe morning if possible, but no sign of him yet. I’m not worried. I’m sure he has his reasons.

I lost alot of people dear to me last year. As the years pass by, my circle of friends and family diminish, and so has my trust and faith in most people. The people I imagined closest to me have betrayed and hurt me. So what can I really expect from strangers? And today the loss and loneliness really hit home. I don’t like losing people, which is perhaps why I’m always the dumpee in any relationship, not really the dumper. Last year was different. I decided to cut people out of my life for my own sanity. I thought it would feel different, that perhaps I’d be relieved or not bothered like the many cruel and heartless people had before me.

Instead I feel miserable. And numb with pain. I feel like I cut body parts off me without anesthesia and with blunt, rusted stuff. That’s how I really feel. But I know it was necessary at the time. It still doesn’t make it any better. And for now, I do not want to reconcile. Perhaps I never will. I don’t know anymore.

I do know what I do sometimes to cheer me up. I go look at pictures of my munchkin, of my fave pic of JT, icanhascheezburger.com, and recently, all cat photos at ADB’s blog. Those pictures put a smile on my face on days like these.

Nowadays, I feel like this.

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A Tale of Three Girls…

January 13, 2009 at 8:56 pm (USA 2008, anger, betrayal, boy whining, depression, frenemy, frustration, happy thoughts, surprise trip)

I had a rather looooooooooong chat with one of my best friends today. Before I go on, let me explain the background a little.

We are a group of three friend and have been together since 4th grade – that’s about 15+ years now. Elementary, middle, high school, A-Levels, College (well the first two years atleast). There’s me, Hammy and Cammy. Hammy and Cammy went to ACD, a sort of transitional college where you can complete first-year and second-year college before transferring to the States for your degree. Most credits generally get accepted. Whereas I stayed here, studied my entire degree at AUS in Sharjah. So off they went to the States, Cammy in Texas, where she met her college sweetheart and got married last February, where both Hammy and I were maids of honor. And Hammy studied in Carbondale, completed her Bachelor’s and Master’s and is now returning to Dubai to help in her dad’s business.

As for the dynamics of our relation ship, Cammy and I are best friends – like she is my best, best, best friend. Hammy and her are also best friends. As for Hammy and me, things have always been on the two extremes of the spectrum. The first 7-8 years of the triangle was spent on Hammy and myself competing to be Carmen’s BFF. It wasn’t the most fun part of school. But then came junior and senior year and we had to chose our specializations: Science, Commerce or Design. Hammy took Commerce, while Cammy and I chose Science. So Hammy got shipped off to another class, but unfortunately, Cammy and I also got split, thanks to a teacher who wanted to keep us apart. So with the three of us in different classes, we stopped being obsessed with being the better BFF and got on being better friends all around.

This continued through A-Levels, college and when both of them went away. We’ve all gone through everyone’s good and bad times. Cammy’s parents and my mom take us as their children – we’ve grown up together. I don’t plan on missing any milestones in Cammy’s life unless I can’t help it. Hammy’s parents, on the other hand, think my mom is legally separated from my dad, because if Hammy’s folks were to know that my mom divorced and remarried, they’d think I’m a bad influence on her and wouldn’t allow her to go out with me. I’m not ashamed of who I am, or what my family has become. But for keeping the peace, I keep my mouth shut. Hammy doesn’t mind, but she won’t go against her parents if they forbade her too. Cammy’s parents, on the other hand, know everything. And as I said, they’re like my second set of parents. When I turned 21, her parent’s came to wish me and even gave me a present even though Cammy wasn’t around. I still have that watch, although the leather strap rotted from my germophobe tendencies to wash my hands everytime I do something.

As for Hammy, it’s always been rather hot and cold. And it isn’t so much about being Cammy’s BFF as it about how different we are in lifestyle, culture and many others. I’m from a broken home and had a very difficult teenage life, with parents splitting, remarrying, again splitting, on top of my own set of problems of being a teenager. We weren’t poor, mom managed to keep us very well, but there are many things I’d like to do that I couldn’t because the money didn’t stretch as far. I don’t complain much as it’s taught me to treasure things even more. And not be spoiled as much. And since dad left, I’ve had a considerable amount of freedom in socializing and going out. I wasn’t too bad – I hope. I admit I did many things I’m not proud of, but that taught me to treat freedom with respect. And now most times I prefer staying at home. And I was never a party person so it’s not like I partied, boozed and drugged.

Hammy, on the other hand, is rather well off – she stays in a lavish duplex with her folks and pretty much can afford many things that I couldn’t. Her family is intact. However, her father is extremely strict with her and her curfew until perhaps 2-3 years back was at 8pm. On the dot. No later. Now it’s till 10pm. And we’re all about 25. And of course no boys at all. Not even as friends – although I think her mum helped her relax that a little as on one of her birthdays, some of her guy friends from college came home. She has to sneak out to see her friends and generally can’t go to events that go beyond 10 and she doesn’t have a ride back home.

So the main fights we’ve had were when she would go out with her friends and kinda ignore me just a bit. The reason being I work hard, studied hard and my timings were such that I wouldn’t be free till 7-8pm. Plus if we were out somewhere where I had to stay past 10, I can’t promise her a ride back. So you can imagine how things went. She had to please her parents, and I felt like I didn’t matter to her. And her college friends would sometimes get her out of the house beyond 10. Which irked me because if I asked the same, she’d be too scared to ask her dad.

These kept piling up among other things. Now everytime we have a get-together in Texas, I live on a hitch-hiker’s budget as most of my money went on getting the plane ticket there. Hence I unashamedly crash at Cammy’s place because I can’t afford a hotel. Whereas in Hammy’s case, she can afford the ticket (it’s cheaper going domestic than international duh!), accommodation and so on.

But sometimes I need to be kicked out of Cammy’s place – like her wedding night. So I planned on crashing at another person’s place again – to save cash. Hammy insisted I stay with her and I not pay a penny, which in my head made me feel rather, I can’t get the word – indebted. And most times I hate feeling that. I hate feeling like I owe someone something. Because most times, I’ve never been allowed to forget that they did something for me and therefore own my ass forevermore.

Anyhow, recent events just made things worse and worse between us two until the final push happened in July during the last get-together. I felt very taken for granted and ignored the entire trip – a trip of my planning and my idea to do something special for Cammy’s Bday. I kept feeling out-trumped every minute – an example was me showing up from Dubai as a surprise on Cammy’s bday. Versus staying in the Trump tower’s in Chicago for 3 days. Which sounds cooler? By the end of the trip, I wondered why I even bothered doing anything for anyone anymore. I felt miserable.

And also Cammy’s brother getting in the mix didn’t help. I was single at that time and he was so nice to me I developed a kinda crush on him. Nothing big – if it happened, it happened. If it didn’t, no biggie. Kinda like a vacation fling. Well he didn’t reciprocate, but he didn’t stop me either. However, he had a thing for Hammy and although I had my suspicions, I didn’t think much about it. Well, we all got drunk one night in Chicago and it became pretty obvious to everyone how into Al (that’s his nickname) I was. And Cammy didn’t like it at all – I get it, protective sister saving brother from rather ‘experienced and loose’ best friend.

And the vacation ended in a slightly awkward note. Well, after I left, the entire group met up again twice – sans me. Because they’re all in the States, but I’m not being on the other side of the globe. It made me feel very left out. And that’s how I found out about Hammy and Al hooking up. It didn’t bother me so much that they hooked up, but the fact that Al hadn’t been upfront with me from the start. If he said he fancied her in the beginning, I wouldn’t have had that stupid drunken moment and wouldn’t have made a fool out of myself infront of everyone.

And hence why I was trying to be rather polite and gracious when both Cammy and Hammy told me. I felt awkward, not to mention a little embarrassed and hurt. And a little betrayed by both of them. Apparently, Cammy was ok with it all. It just reinforced the idea that I felt she saw me as ‘loose’. But I might have annoyed Hammy , which lead to her saying some rather nasty things to me and me finally having enough with all of them.

After all that drama, I decided to not be proactive in the friendship anymore. I felt I had done more than enough, and then some. Flying all the way from Dubai is no joke – each trip I make takes time out of my annual leave, a big chunk of my salary as well trying to not piss relatives off who say I never visit them by keeping quiet about going. Whereas it was just a hop, skip and jump from her to fly down to Texas, or for them to drive up to Carbondale. I feel like if I were in their shoes, they would never do as much as I’d do for them. Like my wedding. Whenever it happens. I feel like if they can’t make it, they won’t bother coming. Whereas I was willing to risk my new job by flying out before my probation period. Because I would never miss her wedding ever. We promised each other when we were little girls that we’d be there for each other’s weddings, and if possible, on the birth of our children. And I remember that promise.

Anyway, Hammy’s coming back to town by end of January. We spoke the whole morning. In the process, all these feeling of hurt and anger and everything just came out. And she had no clue how I felt. How miserable I was feeling. She said she was sorry and never knew I saw things that way. In the end, we made up and hopefully we can start fresh. I’m being cautious though, because all this took a toll on me.

I honestly don’t think Hammy is a bad friend. We’ve had many good times together. But I do know that we also can push each other’s buttons and no matter how much we try, the differences in our lifestyles, family and culture make it hard for us to be ever as close as we both are with Cammy.

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Losing It…

January 11, 2009 at 12:45 pm (JT, P, anger, betrayal, depression, frustration, lament, longing)

I stayed at home today. All the late nights, crappy sleep, and now infections up here and down there piled up. I just couldn’t get out of bed today. So I called in sick.

My gran didn’t even notice I was at home until I rose out of bed at 12. I feel like nobody notices me anymore. That I’m invisible. That life somehow passed me by. Nobody notices if I’m even at work or not. I could have not called in sick and no-one would realize I’m not at work. But for the sake of not absconding, I called anyhow.

Even P hasn’t called in a while. And I’m not going to call him either because I’m rather pissy at him. We were supposed to meet up, but he had family plans last minute. I know things will be ok with him later, as I can’t be mad at him for long, but I’m just giving him attitude anyway. He has no idea about JT disappearing. I need his support, but a part of me feels too proud to go to him. And the fact that I’m supposed to be mad at him.

As for JT, I feel numb now. I broke down last night and cried pretty much the entire night. I didn’t sleep well. I feel lost. I’m not sure what to do anymore. I did what I could to contact him, and now I just have to wait I guess. I know he has good reasons, if he’s still alive. But the waiting is eating away at me. Perhaps it’s just me over-reacting. If it were a normal and sane person, they would have lived their life and not worry so much.

Nothing makes sense anymore. I’m afraid I’m losing it.

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Girl Gripes…

December 29, 2008 at 10:56 pm (anger, annoying people, betrayal, boy whining, dating, prejudices, religion)

Out sheer boredom and procrastination on my thesis proposal – which I still haven’t finished – I went through some online ads. Don’t get me wrong. I’m in no inclination to look for someone. I read the ads sometimes to get a few laughs. Unfortunately, most of the ads make me sick. All about no-strings, paid girls, married girls, and some weird shit. Whatever happened to putting an ad for the purpose of meeting someone you want to be with and have a future with?

Those ads are too few and far in between the junk. That’s why I got rather sick of the online thing. Despite saying I’m looking for a long-term thing and marriage, I still got the weirdest propositions and rather crude and vulgar responses. As well as rather cruel and mean ones. I don’t get it. If you don’t like the ad, don’t reply. Why send a message belittling the person who wrote the ad?

Although some of the ads I saw did make me want to hit the ‘Reply’ button just to give them a piece of my mind. Some were just filth. And alot of married men looking for discreet stuff. Some even wanted a ‘halal’ thing or a Mut’ah, which disgusts me. In brief, it’s a contract marriage that is temporary and dissolves on expiration. It allows Muslims to have sex under the pretext of a ‘halal’ marriage. I understand there are some rules and such that makes it a necessity, like being able to cohabit platonically with a marriageable woman without sex. But most times, it’s abused and used to satisfy the lust of men, the same way polygamy in Islam is abused.

I understand and accept that polygamy and the Mut’ah are necessary – but in special circumstances and as a last solution. However, I personally would never want to be ‘temporarily’ married. It’s a moot point since I’ve dated and already sinned in the intimacy department – so why bother trying to be all halal now? Second point – I would never, ever, EVER share my man. Even if I was infertile (which is a possibility). I would rather divorce him and leave him free to find fertile, nubile things than to share my house and man with another woman.

Why is it always ok for a man to leave his woman because she can’t have kids? Even understandable by some. You married the woman because you loved her – I’m hoping that’s the main reason. No matter what religion you are, you marry someone for sickness and in health. Which includes being barren. So where are your promises of being with her through it all? Invalid because you cannot continue the line and produce an heir?

Oh and also a woman being blamed for having too many daughters. The irony of it all is that the sex is determined by the father, not the mother. So if any fingers need to be pointed at, it should be at the father. Apparently, he shot up too many X-chromosome sperms to have a girl. And the importance of having a BOY as your heir. Apparently, girls can’t really be good enough to be the heir(ess).

However should the situation be reversed, it is unthinkable for a woman to remarry or divorce someone because the man is infertile. How could she be so selfish to leave a poor, crippled man? How can she leave the love of her life? What a slut.

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Nightmares…

December 10, 2008 at 12:06 am (Jaggu, anger, baby, betrayal, confessions, emotional suicide, ex files)

I’m awake. Wide awake. Because of nightmares that won’t go away. And the fact that I’m still itchy down there, despite attempts to keep it clean (not that I don’t normally, I’m quite hygienic. But more than usual). I’ve kept it dry, scrub it with dettol and feminine wash, yet the itchiness and some TMI info – some nasty gunk surfaces every time I clean. Damn him. I think it’s a yeast infection.

Anyway, nasties aside, the dreams. There are two nightmares that keep me up at night. One is the one I keep talking about – the rather traumatic times with my ex’s best friend. Except worse happens in the dream. And in addition, I remember my first time. I mean, you’d think you know better after it happens the first time, wouldn’t you? I can’t even say the word when it relates to myself. Because then it would be too real. And yet I let it happen again. I should have known better.

In short, I knew his best friend had a thing for me. And I kept my distance. But when I had a rough patch with my ex, he wanted to meet me to mediate things. I agreed to see him. And I poured my heart out, and was crying because of my ex. And what did he do? He hugged me, and then proceeded to kiss me and feel me up. I was shocked and ashamed and angry at the same time. I should have left immediately. But I let him drop me home. And I didn’t call my ex until the next day. By then the damage had been done. He didn’t believe me one bit. He said I was using his friend to get back at him and I was a ‘manipulative, conniving bitch’. I was too shocked to say anything.

Which leads to the second dream. The nightmare of choosing to end a life. I found out that I was knocked up. And by then, I was rather helpless in what to do. I loved that man, no matter whatever pain I had gone through. I knew what his answer was. But I didn’t care. My job was informing him, not really waiting for his predictable answer. But of course, I never got hold of him. And when I did, it didn’t come out the way I wanted it to. It came out very spiteful, like to get back at him. Of course he thought it was another trick, another ‘manipulation’.

For a long time, I wanted to keep it. I thought of how I was going to manage in a city as harsh, judgmental, and unforgiving as Dubai. I thought about leaving, seeking shelter with people I knew in USA or Canada, where I wouldn’t be condemned for being a single mother. I wanted to do the right thing and take care of this miracle. I believed it a miracle more than a curse. Because with my PCOS condition, it was a miracle that I even got this way. I felt alone, isolated. No one in my family knew, and knowing so would have made things much worse. I’d lose my family too.

But I had just finished my degree, and I was unemployed. I had no prior experience beyond small, part time jobs. How would I ever do this? I needed work, but in my condition that would be impossible in Dubai. I’m not married. No company would hire me in that state. And after that, definitely not. I thought about giving it away for adoption. Anything but killing it.

But in the end, I took the easy way out. And I regret doing it till this day. I feel so guilty, so horrible. I took an innocent life. I killed my own child to move on in life – to get a career. I walked out on it. I’m the most horrible mother in this world. And a murderer. What sort of a mother am I? I should never have a child again. I don’t want to. And I probably lost my only chance in ever having a child again. I OD on the pill and bled for days. I was bedridden and depressed. The only thing that pulled me through was my job. I was emotionally comatose.

It was after that that I promised myself to never be so vulnerable again. To shut myself off. Yet I get hurt again and again. I never really learn. I hadn’t dated for almost two years after that, and only attempted half-heartedly again. And found no-one who was worth it. Or anyone who could look past the wreck I have become.

And I haven’t told anyone till now. I mean publicly. Because for my mother, it is just shameful being all that. And I do feel ashamed. And guilty. I should have known better.

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Ex, Cuts and Goats….

December 7, 2008 at 10:18 pm (Jaggu, anger, betrayal, ex files, food, sick)

I’ve decided to cut my ex out of my life completely. It was the final straw for me.

He invited me to go out yesterday. I said ok as I had nothing better to do. Said he’d call back. So I continued with my life. No call. But an SMS at about 11pm. He wanted to hang out with me, him AND his best friend. Yes, the SAME best friend who molested me. The one my ex felt I was ‘manipulating’ to get back at him, instead of defending, protecting and believing me. That was it for me. He either is really stupid, or really insensitive. I don’t care one bit for him anymore. I don’t even hate him. He means nothing to me.

On other news, remember the doors I was talking about? Both are quite ravaged and have nicks and cuts and chips in the wood. It makes for rather painful cleaning and itches the entire day. Finally bought some antiseptic cream for stuff like that and not eat and drink till it heals. Going to the loo is quite an excruciating affair.

Other than that, everything’s just peachy. Tomorrow is Eid-ul-Adha (commonly known as Bakri Eid *goat sound*). We generally don’t do much for Eid anymore as it’s just mum and me. We perhaps make a sweet dish, kababs and maybe go out for dinner somewhere. We don’t cook for an army as it’s a total waste of food.

But I asked mum to make biryani this time as I haven’t had her biryani in ages. I think the last time I had any home-made biryani from mum was like 3-4 years back. Mum prefers making a khichdi with the meat in it as its easier than all the long process of layering and cooking that biryani requires.

I’m going to learn how to make it tomorrow and maybe a future post and recipe with pix coming up soon!

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