Open your arms to change, but don't let go of your values.

I have been thinking a lot lately, and I know most of you who are reading this are saying to yourselves, “Oh no, not again! Wait, isn’t that why I am here?”

Interestingly, what I have noticed as a blogger for over four years is that you become your blog. You are it, and it has sucked you in and there is no way out. I have been checking out a lot of famous people’s blogs, and even active bloggers who think that their little voices will make a difference (which it does, kudos to them!). I discovered that they are successful not because of the money they earn, and not because of their voices or messages they are trying to convince others with, but with their perseverance and learning on their own to think about life from all angels, and to take constructive criticism and even ignorant insults.

It’s hard, believe me. It is very hard to maintain a blog. In the beginning, I thought of it as a little ranting area and that’s it, and it will not last long because I have zero patience and short attention span. However, things changed, and people kept wanting more, and even wanted my feedback on issues that were so foreign to me. It helped me stay on track, and build on something that I have created. I started this, and I think of it as one of the highest achievements so far in life. Corny as it sounds, but it is true.

Being a blogger helps you in many ways. It helps you improve your writing skills. It helps you think every day, and come up with new ideas and keep your brain active. It helps you build a community and bring people together on issues that are hardly ever discussed.

Comfort Zone

On those days where I am really depressed, and feel that the world is against me, I turn to this little website for comfort. Someone out there sort of agrees with me, right? Which is better than nothing eh? You guys will not believe the number of times I wanted to shut down this blog, but something sparked inside of me and told me, “Hell no! What are you about to do and why?”

This morning, I had the itch to shut down this blog, and I have more reasons to do so than to keep it. It has nothing to do with my professional life, or me being scared. Surprisingly, last year, while I was looking for work, I thought of it as a road block to why I wasn’t accepted in the professional world, but then I realized, who cares? It’s like people not accepting me for who I am, and I don’t need them in my professional life or being a part of theirs. Then I thought of it some more as a road block for real friendships, and that’s why people don’t like me anymore for who I really am, but again I realized, who cares?

I know a lot of people will start bombarding me with comments and tell me, “Stop saying who cares!! Because you do!” I won’t lie to you and say that I don’t, but I won’t lie to you even more and tell you that I really do. It’s that middle zone that I can’t really explain on this blog, because I don’t know how.

Barriers

I realized that I can’t put a red line between me and others, but at the same time, I cannot let others create this line and choose to jump in and out whenever they please. I feel used. I feel hated and then suddenly loved. I feel that there is something about me that I cannot understand, but others do. I can’t get a grasp on what makes me totally different than others, but at the same time, I don’t understand why they treat me just like any passer by they met in their life.

I am a person with very deep feelings. I suffered a lot growing up, and I keep on suffering because I don’t know what to do. I say what I want to do, but I feel that I am not taking the necessary actions. Is it being scared? Is it too hard? Is it beyond my limits? Maybe it is all those combined, or maybe I just don’t know where to start.

Change

I keep encouraging people to change, and to think outside of the box, but I cannot do that. I am the one that is preaching, but I cannot practice what I preach. Why? I keep asking myself why. It got to the point that people are continuously telling me that they feel sorry for me, and I am the one that needs help. It just makes me feel labeled as only a thinker, and not a thinker with actions, or maybe that’s what I want to believe.

Fortunately, after I re-read this post before publishing, and the hour and a half I spent thinking and writing it out, I realized that there was some action on my part. I did something. I clicked the publish people. I am heard, and someone else will get affected by my words and react to them. I guess I am doing something eh?

I know I have been writing pathetically stupid posts the past week, but I have been hiding my true anger and discontent of people’s actions. I am very angry, and writing this post will not calm me down that easily, but it helps a bit.

People piss me off

I am sorry to say this, but in general, people have serious problems. They don’t understand the meaning of “Leave me alone. I am not a child. What the hell do you want from me? I don’t want to be your friend. I am not this lost soul that you feel obligated to save.” Oh, and for that person, don’t bluntly lie to me saying you don’t go on my blog. After you insulted me, do you expect things to change for better or worse? You think I am stupid or something? I have an IP address tracker that emails me on every visit, and one of my statistics tools sees behind those stupid anonymous proxy sites and reports back to me the real IP address. I got over 5 statistics monitoring tools, and I check them almost every day to see where people are coming from, because that’s what a website owner does to make sure everything is alright and no one lies to me. It also helps me stop those stupid hackers from the middle east to get into my blog again by running those stupid scripts and sql injections.

Secondly, let’s think of this logically, even though my intelligence was questioned a million times, and so was my horrible grammar and English (You know us foreigners with our bad English! We just can’t help it!), I am not offended, but it really makes you on my list of past memories that will never be revived.

Anyways, I am sick and tired of people talking to me. No one understands the pressures from my job every day, and the crap I have to endure from stories about Arabs when I get home. No one gives a crap, and that’s why, I have no reason to give a crap about anyone. If I bluntly tell my parents to leave me alone, why wouldn’t I do that to you?

My parents feel sorry for me

Finally the guilt is creeping up on my parents. They know I don’t talk to any human being, and I don’t go anywhere. And they know that I am taking courses toward my certification to fill that empty gap in my life. They don’t know the real reason why I became like this, and I am not going to open a huge debate of how much I want to seclude myself from this bitter world filled with liars. I am not going to explain to them my discontent of this Arab mentality that I am forced to live by every day. I am not going to explain to them that I have met and known enough people in my life that I choose to act like a bitter 60 year old.

I am tired of explaining.

I work with the wrong people

You guys think I like my job? I do sometimes, but most of the time no. It was fine in the beginning, but the more I know people at work and the mental age gap that is hindering production, the more fearful I am of the way things are going. I just can’t wait to leave work at 4:30 pm sharp. Unfortunately, sometimes I work over time if I was told explicitly to get things done ASAP.

Although some people at work noticed my talents, and that’s what they want, a person that can do it all, but them also noticing my discontent with some things thrown at my face is making them fearful. Sure, I can do it all, but I am only human. I am trying to learn from this other guy at work, and just work at the bare minimum to what I was hired to do. It’s hard to do so when I want to do more, I want to prove myself, but is it worth all this pressure? Am I getting compensated enough for it? No!

Also, like I mentioned in the paragraph before last, the age gap is killing me. I don’t eat lunch with my co-workers anymore, because I am sick of listening to them, and them asking the stupidest nosiest questions. Then they talk to me like a five year old, and want me to talk to them only in utter respect. Who the hell are they? I bow to no one or give any respect except to God. I don’t care anymore that I should be nice to older people, screw them. They have no respect for me, why should I be for them?

Attitude change

I have to become even more bitter or I won’t survive with such people. My plan is to be as calm as possible till I finish my certification courses, which will take two years, and find another job. In the meantime, since I have no real friends that want to ever listen to me or talk to me, I will use this blog as a ranting area instead. I know you guys will listen to me, email me your thoughts, and tell me that you have the same problems too. When you do that and tell me your stories, I don’t feel alone, and you don’t feel alone, and I am more at peace with myself and can sleep at night.

I am sorry, but I have to excessively rant a lot more from now on, or I will go crazy or very physically sick.

Finally, this song has been keeping me a bit sane the past couple of days. I like the words. No wonder. So me.

Muse: “Uprising”

Every single day, I have to do the inevitable deed of checking my emails. The emails I receive from this blog are funny, really. Actually, any email now a days that you get from another human being is really funny. People still spend time writing emails? Emails are so last year! But hey, for some it is still the solid sure way to get an answer.

Aha, and I will give them an answer alright!

New Rule

Any email that you send me through my blog and any comment you post on this blog is mine. I can do whatever I want with it. I can post the email (but I am nice and I will ask you first sometimes), and I will delete comments whenever I want.

I am the one that maintains this website. I pay for the domain name and monthly hosting. Therefore, I can do whatever.

You don’t owe me anything, and I don’t owe you anything.

I am Not Hot

I have been getting some weird emails lately. I will post some, but no names.

Dude 1

hello girls just want tell im very kind person quit very shy and helpfull if youe intresting in my personalty pleae you could contact my eamil address i will not dispoint you meny thanks

My answer: I thought the blog’s title was Rebellious Arab Girl, and not Rebellious Arab Girls. And I am only interested in people who spell don’t worse than a 3rd grader.

Dude 2

Hello dear. My name is XXXX. I receive yout comment and wish to contact you. I am living in Jeddah looking for a hot girl for longterm relationship. Please reply. And if u need my picture then please ask.

My answer: Of course I need a picture to prove that you are worthy to drag around a mannequin under your arms!

Dude 3

how i can marry an arab girl

My answer: ???

I got a lot more weird ones, but some of them are just people who blog hop and have no idea where they are and who they are talking to.

I was watching Jeopardy yesterday, and one of the questions was pertaining to one of Alfred Hitchcock’s movies Oscar winning song with the words “When I was just a little girl.” Obviously, I knew the answer and said to myself, “Gosh! I haven’t heard that in a long time.” So I picked it for this week’s Tuesday music tune.

I have a very eccentric selection of songs that are stuck in my head. I don’t like a certain genre only, and I always memorize and only listen to songs that have a meaning behind it. The music is moving, the words make you think, and everything about the song is chilling. It also gives you comfort that someone else out there thinks like you.

This song I know by heart, because I used to hear it when I was little, and now as I am way older, I still listen to it when I am contemplating life, and wondering what the hell is wrong with me.

So, what is wrong with me? Why am I not like other girls and have the same ideology as them? I may have the same questions, but my answers are way different. However, like everyone else, I rather live my life as whatever will be will be.

I enjoy listening to this version the most. I like the blues… and I just need a glass and a sheesha to go along with it to complete the mood.

Ps. I don’t drink or smoke. However, most people think I do because I am always out of it all the time!

See what happens when I work with more than 85% women in one place? I get grilled with many questions, and my answers are either told after a 5 second pause in order to think of something that is not too personal and reveal my evil side, or blurt out the first thing that comes to my mind.

You guys know I am stubborn and very opinionated, so whatever comes out of my mouth is usually a very stern opinion that has its reasons. So, one lady that is beyond joyful and upbeat (freaky I know!), who has children almost my age asked me the following question:

“Mona, so how old are you?”

I said smiling, “I am 29.”

She said, “Oh dear, you are still a baby!”

In my head I was like fuck! I am not a baby, or even that young! It’s 29!! Not 19! Uff.

Then she asked, “Well, are you planning to get married?”

I unconsciously replied back, “No. Never.”

She said, “My kids are like that too. What’s wrong with your generation?”

I said, “Who wants to get married and raise kids in this world? Look at how corrupt it is.”

I wanted to start blaming her generation, but I didn’t want to appear more evil than I already am.

She said, “It doesn’t matter. It’s your choice how you raise your kids.”

I said, “Of course it is, but I cannot prevent them and lock them up forever so they won’t get affected by the outside capitalistic materialistic chauvinistic selfish world.”

She said, “True.”

Then I walked away, and I did not want to continue that conversation, because it will lead me to an endless argument. It would be an argument that philosophers (me) would classify as the following: “The biggest generation gap in history of thinking endless argument!”

Adults born before 1980! Funny and living in happy town. Young Adults! Confused. Unfortunately, some tend to rebel cause they have to find fault in everything. Sucks to be me.