I’d forgotten that

… there is a frenzy that takes hold of shopping malls around this time of year.
… once Remembrance Day is out of the way it’s consumer madness to the bitter end.
… the carols are now absolutely inescapable.
… the only plants of color for the longest while are the pretty Poinsettias and the balls of holly
… clothing decorated with snow men, reindeers and bells are now no longer a faux pas.
… long drives now have a new found purspose that of which entails ohhing and ahhhing at pretty lights with hot chocolate in hand.

But its coming back to me now and I love it!

It should be fun having Eid roll around at approximately the same time, be able to join in on the festivities and have it relate to something personal. I rather like the idea that three of the world’s major religions will be united in their celebrations!

A picture is worth a million words

I was browsing through some of the week in pictures on some news or media sight when I came across a photograph of three soldiers fully dressed in all their protective gear. Helmets and riffles in hand. The one soldier was lying on the ground with his arms at his side seemingly unconscious or severely injured. While the second soldier is hunched over pulling him by the collar “out of harms way”. This soldier’s lower back was slightly exposed, his shirt was un-tucked due to what could only be the struggle of dragging his fellow comrade’s entire weight across the ground. In the distance… There was a third soldier, his boots dusty from the rubble, his rifle perfectly positioned under his arm, his forehead soaked in sweat, skin bright red from some kind of a struggle and most expressive of all he wore a distressed but in control look on his face as he ran past the other two soldiers courageously towards the conflict and at the same time perfectly facing the camera. A paint by numbers horror war scene wouldn’t you say? A man down, another trying to save him and the third facing the fury of the enemy. I couldn’t bear to imagine the horrific scene that the running soldier was willingly and consciously running towards. As I was about to flip to the next photo I got this itch of curiosity as to where the photo had been taken and by whom. So I’m glancing over the text around the photo when I read a TINY caption that read “an Israeli soldier helps a friend after being injured by a stone thrown by an 8 year old boy”
This image was what allowed me to truely grasp Noam chomsky’s “indoctrination”.
Much like the partial blindfolds placed on a horse so as to control its straying from the middle of the road, I was lead to believe that this poor man had been injured while heroically defending the policies and rights of his people. What a crock of crap that turned out to be. War just like everything else has now become commercial. The news stations sell nothing short of propaganda. They don’t lie but don’t present the whole truth either. They only give you the portion that will naturally lead any rational person to the same conclusions they(those in charge) have arrived at. And that being

This is a necessary evil. This is a legitimate Cause. We are not only fighting for our personal benefits but for those of humanity as a whole.

And so like the partially blind folded horse that they are, people go out and buy bumper stickers that read “support our troops” and go around deeming anything remotely related or similar to their invisible monster as a threat. And because it is this form of media that keeps them “informed” and gives them a false sense of security they return to it time and time again jonesing for more. Information junkies addicted to a drug that eventually will cause nothing more than massive internal hemorrhaging due to misinformation. And so the launch of the English Aljazeera has me giddy with excitement. Their visuals are impeccable and their presentation in English makes them harder to ignore. Why you ask will this media source differ from the rest? How do we guarantee we’re not seeing only a part of the truth. Well the answer is simple. We don’t. But given the circumstances under which this little channel surfaced I’m tempted to think they have no prerogative or agenda. Unlike CNN’s financial dependence on it’s sponsors, who can’t be blamed for perusing their own interests, this channel is owned by one prince with loads of money to spare all with the intention to simply have his people heard. Some ways down the road I suppose It potentially runs the risk of being a personal agenda campaign but as it currently stands… I’m enjoying the alternate stand point, the variety in story coverage and the multi cultural staff.
From the very few stories I’ve seen on it so far It is clear that hiding the ugly is something they don’t want to do.
I imagine it’ll be closed down fairly soon due to some sort of legal mumbo jumbo but in the mean time I think its about time CNN and the BBC got a little run for their money and dealt with some competition.

Married manitis!

Is it possible to emit these magnetic forces from some sort of device embedded under your skin without even knowing you’re doing that?
I’m honestly starting to wonder if I’m in some Truman show movie replica where the twist is that married men are the way of the world.
Why does it seem like every corner I turn introduces a wonderful but “unavailable” man into my life?
How is it humanly possible for this many similar incidences to occur without me having some sort of premeditated intention to want to recreate them?
Is it true that you attract the type of person you think you can’t do better than?
I’ve seen it a million times. Girl thinks she can’t be with anything better than a drunk so all her boyfriends have a bit of a drinking problem. It’s like a self fulfilling prophecy of sorts. Cuz really, if that’s the case then Sand-e has some serious issues to deal with wouldn’t you say? How screwed up is it to think you deserve and in turn attract men that aren’t emotionally available and even more fucked up belong (in a metaphorical sense) to some else?! How sad is it to realize that, should I, under some sort of impaired frame of mind, agree to be in this sort of relationship, that that in it self has some huge bearings on my stance on polygamy? Maybe I’m overanalyzing and hyperventilating for no reason. I have after all made it clear time and time again that this sort of thing, if not for my sake but for the wifey’s sake, is entirely unacceptable. I’d hate to be with a man and find out that some other chicky is cool with him being married to me and being with her at the same time. The Do unto others as you’d have done unto you totally applies in this case. Not to mention that alongside the psychological and moral issues that such a situation presents there’s the inevitable trust issue. How can I possibly be expected to trust my and someone else’s Mr. Johnny bravo if he was in a “committed” relationship with a previous Mrs. whose bond of marriage provided him no sanctuary from temptation or desire? And in all this analysis and thinking I’ve come to feel a little naïve. The proposals are entirely preposterous and insulting at the same time but surely there are signs in body language and conversation that should tip me off. Red bells and sirens need to go off that read “this man has no understanding of the word commitment!” “He’s Married and chatting u up!”

....

N: “So things look pretty good with respect to getting that job after all but I think they’ll require you take a couple of courses first. Two more should suffice I imagine.”
Me: “Has the fact that I’m leaving escaped you?”
She continues to flip through the pages of her magazine and smiles a little.
Me: “I don’t understand why no one is taking me seriously? I’m so going to do it! I will! I’ll do it and you’ll see! Do you think I’ve been going on about it just for the sake of going on about it?!”
S laughs and knows exactly why N is laughing but I’m seething and in an attempt to dampen the fire he goes: “are you hearing this? She says she’s leaving. Don’t do the thing you do where you’re ok with it until its time for her to go and then all of a sudden there are all these reasons and restraints to hold her back…If you’re not cool with it you should tell her now.”
N: “Let her be… She’ll go only to realize she’s coming back”
Its amazing how just like that they’ve managed to deny my existence in the room and they’ve carried on conversing as if I was a part of the furniture.
Me in an attempt to regain my presence: “Or she’ll find what she was looking for and rejoice because she had the guts to make it happen and decided to go”
N: “You think you’re so smart Sand-e? Everyone wants to be where you are and you… you’re running from it”
Me: “I’m sure there are a million people that want to be where I am but just the same there are millions of other shoes I’d rather be wearing. I’m not happy here! Why can’t anyone understand that?”
N: “It’s not where you are Sand-e. It’s who you are. And you Sand-e… you want but don’t act on it….Everyone needs to want… everyone needs to have a purpose… What makes you think being somewhere else will change all that?”
Me: “I don’t know that it will. I just feel like my mindset will get a jumpstart and consequently bring on the change”
N: “I wish you’d see that there is a world here that you’ve been too scared to explore. You live your life like those that require someone to put them on the ladder’s first rung. You need to be one of those looking for it! Where is your sense of exploration your sense of self worth and your sense of adventure?”
Me: Sigh… she’s so right… she’s sooo right that the thought of it alone makes it hard to breathe. I live in a bubble. I have blinded muted and made myself deaf to the world around me.
N: “You need to realize your potential and bloom… its time to bloom Sand-e. Let the rivers flow and get rid of all the stagnation. I can not give you that! You have to want it and want it bad enough to find a way to get it”
Me: “Well that’s what I’m doing. This is what I think will fix things for me. This is what will give me the oomph to want with grandeur!”
N: “But you’re fixing one problem by replacing it with another. What’s the use of wanting at that point if you don’t have the means to achieve?”
Me: “I think I’ll have to cross that bridge when I get to it.”
But what if she’s right?
What if I’m crazy to leave?
What if she knows best?
And worse still what if she knows me more than I know myself?
Why can’t I find the peace of mind I need here? I so wish I could.
What if I can’t make it happen and just as always get too scared to leave?
What if I leave, find out it was all a sham and come back empty handed?
Not only empty handed but less the hope that I might have at one point had a solution.
The waiting game and the logistics are clouding my vision. The anticipation is killing me and the outcome of it all an oh so personal mystery.

And so it happens...

A relationship that did not exist, a break up that did not happen
a good bye that did not jade my heart, a wall I did not allow to crumble and a pride I did not offend.
Today I am worthy.

we have lift off!

I finally managed to launch a decent looking photoblog.
I'm hoping it'll inspire me to create stuff on a regular basis and in the process highten my awareness of my surroundings. Be apart of my world and check out what
Sandy Seez
.... dan dan dannnnnnnnn

Jester’s “ monthly ranting” coincided with some of the things floating around in my head lately and instead of leaving a long winded comment on the poor fellow’s blog, I've decided to post it here.

Side note: I hope jester is in fact a fellow... me thinks my memory serves me correct and he is... but if not then I hope she forgives me for the whole heshe bit.

My cousin held a birthday party at some fancy shmancy coffee shop where they served alcohol whilst my parents were on vacation in Egypt last week. Upon their arrival, in our casual exchange of what went down while they were away, they made mention that a small part of my cousin's guest list included girls who were veiled. They told us how, after the party got underway, the owner of the place approached the two girls and asked them to leave. This of course instigated a lot of aggression from the guys who in turn ruined the evening for my cousin, the girls, and the owner in an all too typical brute 3alaya w 3ala 2a3da2y fashion ( which I guess best translates into kamikaze mission). The discussion naturally became about whether or not their actions were justified and inevitably about the owner’s right to ask the girls to leave with a “we serve alcohol here and this is no place for you”. I found it strange that I could, on some level, identify with both parties. On the one hand I could understand that this was a private establishment and on that basis one could argue when in Rome do as the Romans do or better still and more to the point "my house my rules". Just like certain places have a dress code whether it be the basic shirt required, the no jeans or even the snootier suit and tie required I found it generally acceptable that this man control the type of attire his clientele bring into his establishment. Question then is...are we being over sensitive just because the scarf is in itself a symbol of religion? And on that note did the 6pack boys react the way they did because they intrinsinclly object to the owner’s re-enforcement of the all too familiar faulty inequality ,higab != shiyaka/ more loosely modern thinking that exists in Egyptian society0 today or was this just a misguided display of who is bigger than who?
But on the other hand I am enraged by the fact that a country packed to the brim with people who take Islam on as a faith of their own would allow such behavior. I mean really how disappointing is it when people who don’t embrace the practice are being shunned for their actions, namely France, while this sort of madness is going on at home? I think what this whole scarf thing boils down to, as a friend of mine pointed out, is that being a higabi is a part of who you are just as is being of color, Middle Eastern descent or short. Shouldn’t there be rules and regulations to prevent this sort of thing? With all that mess out of the way…What then is to be said of mean coffeeshop owner’s assumed position of piety? Who is he to say to a higabi or a non higabi where she should or should not be? Is it not her decision? And since when did religion become something between two people? Last I checked it wasn’t this umbrella that gave every tom dick or Harry a carte Blanche to pass judgment, preach and control!? But I think if nothing else this thought experiment has tought me that there are 2 sides to the coin.

Ala MasterCard

Brisk walk in the mall during lunch time…………….........…. $0
Fashion accessories for new black dress…………...…........... $21.99
Long distance calling cards…………………………………........…$10
Bottle of Coke……………………………………………..............……$1.15
Bag of white cheese Kernals popcorn……………………..........$3.75
Realizing you have a piece of popcorn nicely nestled in
your ever so slightly exposed boobage after having sat
across your boss during your annual employee evaluation
meeting for a good half and hour........……………………....…. $ Priceless

The best things in life are for free but luckily for everything else there’s MasterCard!

Retention no more

My brother and I used to play these games when we were little in the car to keep us entertained. One of those games was to hold our breath the entire length of a cemetery. We’d turn red and grasp onto the car seat and window as we watched the tombstones go by. It was a challenge. Each of us holding our breath in and desperately trying to beat the other at a game we’d deemed a notable cause. There’s all this mental work involved before you take the deep breath. You slow down your breathing and think I’ve gotta take as much air in as humanly possible and retain it for as long as needed. You inhale and hold not trying to think about how much longer you’ve got but focusing on the fact that it’s a do or die sort of situation. The graveyard would pass and in a great exhale all the air would rush out. We’d gasp for a bit but would smile with glee none the less as the words “I won” shimmered in our eyes. We’d do this for all sorts of things. Train tracks… the rule was to keep your feet as high off the ground as possible without allowing the bumpy tracks to make you loose your balance. At the pool it was how many laps you could run without taking a breath, my personal record 2 laps and a half. At the amusement park it was if you could keep your hands lifted through the biggest dip on the rollercoaster. All these things have a few things in common. A challenge we’d placed on ourselves, a big breath that would need to be taken, a dramatic release and finally a high from being able to let go. After writing my test last night it hit me again. This was one of those things, not exactly as much fun but similar nonetheless. There is this big inhale in the form of information retention, a holding on till the test then the quick release of all the information as I frantically wrote away hoping my memory wouldn’t fail me. The fun part in all this was by all means the high from being able to let it go. Until about 12 pm last night I was on a high…. From what? From the release. And so perhaps my accounting test, the graveyard, the rollercoaster, the train tracks and the pool have taught me one thing… in order to feel the high of letting go I’ve first gotta make the decision to hold on, challenge myself no matter how silly and later reap the rewards of conquering it and letting go.

All things peachy

I ask too many questions and play too many games within the vicinity of my mind.
My self discipline plays hide and seek with temptation and desire.
I do not utter any of these uncertainties and dare not ask confirmation of the certain.
I know what I am to you, and you, just as I, know what you are to me.
Unable to bring down the walls for obvious reasons it is reason that has cornered us here.
It has managed to mold our interaction into this slowly tightening mould.
I shed my clothes and with them most of who I am. Self respect detached and dilapidated on the floor, mental stimulation no where to be seen and imagination and inspiration out the door.
Everything I want outside the scope of this moment is left behind.
There is a burning desire that motivates but will not sustain.
I am momentarily moved.
I have given you the benefit of the doubt. Unearned and perhaps undeserving.
I have given you more than you can appreciate and in the process have unconsciously allowed your value to depreciate.
To you I am the giver of attention, the seeker of naughty, a means to an end but by no means an end.

why worry?

I’m jonesing…
Nine inch nail’s closer.
Nickle back’s Figured you out
Nirvana’s Rape me
Blue october’s Drilled a wire through my cheek
And Johnny Cash’s Hurt are on all the menu tonight!

Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!

8:37 I made it in to the office just in time to get a cold stare from good old Jerry the receptionist. I’ve totally decided that Jerry is so in the wrong business. I think he was kidnapped from one of those military camps that secretly doubled as a hooked on phonex commercial… “b rrrrr ennn daaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh mooooo rrrrr iiiiiiis sssss please call 5862 breeeeeeee ennnnn ddddd aaaaa hhhh moooorrrr iissss please call 5862”. He’s the sort of fellow that makes people answer a page just to get him to stop calling their name. Rocking back and forth in the fetal position on the floor they go… make it stopppppp make it stopppp. You’d think he’d get bored or put two and two together and figure you’re out of the office if you don’t answer after the 5th page… la ya lolooo la! laysa howa tilk al rajol! He’s the sort that perseveres till the end! And not the smart sort of perseverance either… He’s the kind that walks into a glass door and keeps walking into it just because he doesn’t stop to think that perhaps or just maybe the bump on his forehead is indicative of the fact that he’s not Patrick Swayze from ghost. Jerry my love, you need to open doors to walk through them! I bet you people have gotten fired because of his incessant nagging over the PA system. I’ve tried to make my peace with jerry. He works like clockwork… and follows rules to a t. yeah ok he blushes and gets all awkward when I joke around with him but when he really to each their own. I’ve managed to deal with his need to teach me the rules of being at the lobby and his need to maintain order at all times. I keep wanting to shake him silly… DUDE RELAX!
The other day I come down to pick up a package and so instead of waiting my turn after all the “customers” were out of his hair I buzzed myself in… picked up my package and left quietly. Later on that day I get 7 messages on my phone from jerry sounding like he’s hernia ting and in dire need of surgery. “Hi sandy this is Jerry from reception(like I’d confuse him for some other hooked on phonex Jerry) please call me back its crucial” I kid you not… he left me 7 messages within the span of my lunch hour. I get back to my desk and of course think there is a calamity that has befallen him. I run downstairs dually noting where the gurney is should the need arise for me to tow him to the hospital. I ask “what’s wrong? Is everything ok?” He casually looks at me and goes “you had a package here. You musn’t buzz your self in without informing me first. The hand book says blah blah blah blah…you musn’t this u musn’t that …section this states section that states. I look at him nearly about to choke him but force a smile because I totally understand that this poor guy probably hasn’t been laid in years and really all that build up makes a person anal. How can I possibly blame him? After all the rambling about “Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!” I’ve just remembered that my point in all this was to vent about why my morning was a bee with an itch but I’ve now lost my umph to do it hardcore. Soooo…..Softcore it is.
First off um kalthoom (my alarm clock) decided not to sing this morning and so I basically got up in a state of hysteria instead of my usual state of wondering “ana feen wel 7ob feen”. So I started off running around like a headless chicken thinking it was 7pm and that I’d slept through Tuesday morning all together. I must have made 3 unsuccessful trips to the washroom before it was finally my turn in the queue. My toothpaste ran out so I had to use that shitty apple kind…. How do the good people at crest expect me to get that minty fresh squeaky clean feeling without the mint?! The taste of my mouthwash clashed with the crap apple wanabe toothpaste and I unintentionally found myself hugging the toilet looking at last night’s dinner! Which, according to my cheeky sister, was lacking garlic. If it weren’t for the chastity belt that my father back in the home land held the key too I’m sure I’da been hyperventilating about possibly being pregnant. WTF is all that about? No clue myself… random crap that comes to me out of thin air… anywayssssss I managed to shower in nearly half a second but slipped on my way out and rammed my shin on the corner of the tub. I got stuck behind 2 school busses and wanted to run over a mother that was keeping the second bus waiting as she tightened the scarf around her obviously roasting son. I nearly slammed into a tow truck who decided on a whim it was ok to pull out of a gas station at full speed. I stopped at every single traffic light from my house to the office which made the trip take a whopping 20 minutes instead of its usual 7. I am running in when I loose my shoe in the middle of the parking lot and have to limp back to get totally allowing me to fully fathom the feelings of a dog with its tail tucked in between it’s legs. Like the looser that I am I walk in and think 7 minutes…. Not bad… maybe no one will notice… but alas I’m greeted by good old Jerry with that look of “I’m onto you and I’m not amused” on his face. There was this stare down for a couple of seconds as I tried to figure out if he’d been publicly announcing to the world that I was running late on the PA system and while he gloated in the glory of knowing that had he really wanted to he possessed that kind of power. I smile and break the silence with a “CRAIIIIIIZEEEEEEEE morning Jerry crazy morning” He smiles because he thinks he’s intimidated me into giving him an explanation and I smile because otherwise al inte7ar or murder are the 7al.