Although my mom drives me insane, and vice versa on my part, she will always be funny. She will always provide me good content to write about on my site. Few minutes ago was one of them.

My mom is different, if you think I am a crazy, blunt and a sarcastic person, well, I had to learn from the best, and dear God my mom is 10 times worse than me. People who don’t even know her and just met her can tell that she has charisma and tough.

That’s why I grew up to be defensive and retaliate ever so quickly, it’s cause of HER!

So what did my mom say today that made me laugh so much and think, dear God, I love being the spawn that came out of her!

Mom gets a lot of phone calls and such from people, and few minutes ago was pretty funny. It was a lady who wanted something for a wedding that is in the end of July, and my mom is going to Lebanon next week for 5 weeks. So she kept telling her I WON’T BE HERE! Why you people in a hurry?

After she ended the call and she was helping me iron something so delicate to wear for the wedding I am going to in a few hours, she then sits there talking to me so loud in utter disgust and I am like wow.

This is a rough translation. Obviously my mom only speaks Arabic to me!

She said, “Arab men in Canada are wusses! They are spoiled brats and want their moms to do everything for them. Even find them a bride. Who the hell picks a bride from a picture!? That’s the stupidest thing that people are doing till now. What year is this? I didn’t even do that. Our family is not that stupid. You want to get married, YOU find SOMEONE! Not your mom.”

I looked at her with eyes wide open and shock. She was talking about a particular stupid ass hole that we ALL know and hate through my blog.

You know what’s funny? :lol: My ex-boss is hilarious. I see him every week for lunch. Although in the back of his head he still thinks he is my boss, and I still think he is my boss, but him suggesting that I should just take the rest of the afternoon off yesterday and relax was completely funny. I was like ah? Anyways, he just works downtown and it is easy for me to go meet up with him for lunch. So yesterday morning on the phone he asks me where I wanted to go for lunch, and I didn’t really care. As long as I eat. So he said, “anywhere but this Shawarma place.” I thought, aah.. ok. I wasn’t in the mood for Shawarma to even suggest it. He then said, “I don’t want to see HIM anymore. I am sick of it. The first time was a fluke, but not again at the same place. He hangs out there.” Every time he mentions him I just laugh. I feel he hates him more than me, but I have an excuse. A bloody long excuse. But my ex-boss? Well? I think it is just a mutual agreement.

Then I told my best friend Lisa about it, and she said, “aren’t you afraid to see him? Like ever? In the street. He lives in your city! The chances are so high.”

I kept thinking about it and wondering what if? But then again, meh. I wouldn’t cry about it, and just look at him in disgust. That’s about it.

Funny, They said what?, Whatever!

Guest post by Moey Halawaty.

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Rebellion. Being rebellious and possessing this quality.

I am not talking about a certain subject that I wanna rebel about, because this will take a lot of time. I simply wanna rebel about everything I see around me! So I’ll speak about rebellion itself.

Not a lot of people these days have the guts to be rebellious, or even care to define themselves as rebellious, or anything else. People are over-consumed in their daily lives that they don’t care whom they are or what they are.

Taking an example of myself, I have never really cared to ask my myself whether I was rebellious or not, until I came across this blog and saw how Mona defines it to be. I figured out that I was somehow rebellious, but not just quite enough to be called that. I decided to be a true rebel and say no to whatever I don’t like.

At that time I only have started a blog for a little time, and this gave me a lot of input in my life, a lot of reasons to be rebellious, and a lot of material to write about.

I needed to understand that I could say no to a lot of things, to people that posses power over me, to bosses, to teachers, and to parents. I want things my own way and thats how it is supposed to be. I started crafting my own way though with people, caring about who cared about me, and not giving a damn about people who don’t deserve attention. I also needed to stick up for my opinions and my rights. Being a stuck up isn’t bad, if you’re right. If you don’t want someone else, whoever it may be, to tell what to and what not to do or say.

Being rebellious is being different. It’s about standing out of the crowd. It’s simply being yourself and like no other.

There is always one different person, and the rest are all like sheep in the cattle, following life blindly without thinking. I’d like to be that person, the different one, the rebel. I never confirm to a large group of people. I have my own ideas and way of thinking, simply because I have my own mind. Whether it’s a big decision I’m taking in my life, or picking out clothes.

You see me, you notice everything I have is different that other people’s. If something is common among people, I’ll never own it. It’s not different.

That’s what I concluded from being rebellious. It’s the power to say NO. It’s the power to change something that you don’t see right. And again, I don’t mean that in a wrong way, you have to be right to be rebellious, or else you’re just starting something that you won’t be able to handle, and when someone else proves you wrong, you will be put down and what kind of rebel gets put down? But it’s not your choice in that case.

They said what?, Whatever!

Guest post by my friend “Lisa.”

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Rebellious.

Ok, if you all think I’m trying to practice some kind of creative writing method, then you’re wrong. I really just had to write it (even a few more times scribbled on paper) to really get my mind sparked on what it means to me; that WORD. (On a side note, I can’t even remember the last time I wrote anything, so please forgive my lack of fancy wording, sorry Yasir, I also will not impress you).

You see, here’s the ironic thing. Me and Mona complete that WORD, her in her writing, and me in my actions. Do I think Mona is rebellious? No. And here’s why. Speaking out to, for the most part, unknown strangers, is what makes someone normal. And by normal, I mean compliant, because that someone is relieving their frustrations through WORDS. The thin line between compliance and rebelliousness is drawn when those feelings are NOT voiced. That’s when danger zone hits. That’s also when my demented thought process is going to begin. Oh yeah if you’re Arabic, Male, between the ages of 26-35, enjoy long walks on the beach, AND understand what the hell I’m saying, please feel free to propose to me .

The truth is that I never do voice my rebelliousness. So does that mean I’m sneaky? Well I’m not telling you anything! But do I have a “friend” who will sit amongst a group of Arabic women, not knowing how the hell she should smile or even take a seat because she feels like she will give something about herself away. Somehow she feels that her mere presence will speak her story of sneaking out late at night, of partying, of merely experiencing life to its fullest. It’s almost comical her extent of rebelliousness. Actually, I’m wrong, it’s definitely edging on eerie. Living two separate lives of who you are and who you should be is precisely how I would define that WORD. In other words, rebellious actions, minus the voice (and this is why my “friend” refuses to tell you her story herself). Hopefully you are beginning to understand what that WORD means to me, but what are rebellious actions exactly? That’s when I give you free reign. So take your horse out for gallop. It could be getting a nipple piercing for you, or it could be wearing a shiny leather cat-suit with black platform ankle-boots for my “friend”. Just remember, living life on the edge isn’t so if those Arabic women mention your lovely cat-suit casually around the dinner table. In that instance, you might as well lounge on a lazy-boy and get comfy. Maybe even invite Umm Wajdee and the gang for a dress-up party.

-Lisa

They said what?, Whatever!

So this is how it feels to be drunk?

By the way, I never drank and I never will. I don’t find any pleasure in intoxicating my body with any substance or smoke. Did I ever mention how much I hated smoke? I am allergic to it (I just tell people that so they won’t smoke in front of me), so walking in the street and being surrounded by smokers is not my cup of tea. Although I try my best to withstand it, but some people smoke really nasty heavy stuff. What’s wrong with you people? Bleah. Drinking is bad, smoking is bad. Stop harming your body, or what’s left of it.

Anyways, I am not hung over, but my head hurts a lot and I am tired. I am here at work and I spent the past 1.5 hours just reading emails from you guys and replying. I got a couple of good essays so far for being rebellious. Anymore would be appreciated. You don’t even have to write that much. I think people are more attracted to short sarcastic blurbs or random questions.

Like, why is the sky blue? If it was green would it be any different?

Why do children have so much energy and adults have 1/10th of that energy that allows them to just walk from their cars to the door?

Why do animals live in communities and get along so well, and humans can’t?

Why do I have a blog and I have so many MEN as the poll indicated yesterday visiting? I am a good theorists by the way. I come up with legitimate stats!

Anyways.. people missed me opening up the comments, but it gave them a chance to write me long emails and stories. Much appreciated.

Now, to Celine Dion. She is good at singing how I feel. I told her to and she complied! Isn’t she awesome or what?

Random Thoughts

Don’t we all? Let me talk about life in general. Life sucks. Life sucks so much that there is no point to dream, to hope, or to plan anything. Best thing to do is just sit and wait for nothing. At least none of us would have to bother with what tomorrow will ever bring. Who cares. Really.

Well, planning. I don’t plan anything. You could say I am carefree, but in reality I am just uncaring. Then the hope. I used to hope. I used to have some hope that tomorrow is going to be better than today. That went down hill sometime between last year and today. Then there is a dream. Dear God why do I bother to dream? The worst part is, that I dream of ever such great things in my unconscious world. Don’t I wish I just lived in my unconscious world? I mean seriously. We spend 1/3 of our life sleeping. Why not just sleep the other 2/3? At least life seems a bit better there.

Why am I talking like this? Cause my life as we know or as I know it is collapsing in front of my eyes. I think I had an anxiety attack around 11 am and it all went down hill from there. I tried to calm my self and be cheerful. Nop. Can’t do that! Then around 1 pm I pretty much couldn’t breath anymore and just sat there hoping I would just die. Am I depressed or what? Then around 2:30 pm, I pretty much lost it. I think I pretty much had an epiphany of what really my life has become. It has become nothing. It winded down to nothing.

I was always at the edge. Just hanging by a rope, and today, of all days I became what I feared that I would become.

A lifeless soul with a sugar coating of depression.

For those people who want to be philosophical and tell me that I should think of other people and how life is a lot worse for others, all I can say is BITE ME! We are all individuals and each to their own.

Fuck I hate having a blog. Worse place to write this crap.

Angry, Blah Blah, Whatever!