The Good Life

There are some moments in life that makes it all worth it somehow. Those moments are scarce, they are short, but they do exist. 

I had one of those moments a couple of nights ago when I was with my friend at her workplace. We had just finished dinner and were about to head to the coffee shop. But since she still had some things to finish, she suggested that I have an espresso while I waited. A Nespresso to be more exact. 

You might not know this, but I love coffee. And I came to love it even more that night. 

My friend offered me a selection of Nespresso with the catalog to choose which one suited me better. I went for a Ristretto, the one with the highest "intensity" she had available, and she placed the matching Nespresso longo cup in the beautifully carved machine, and when the coffee was ready, we waited till the foam seperated from the coffee and floated on top of it. 

That was a beautiful cup of coffee. A truly amazing one. It looked great, smelled fantastic and tasted wonderful. 

That cup of coffee had me dreaming of someday owning the same coffee machine with an even wider selection of Nespresso  in my own home, a home I am yet to buy, I am even a long way from buying, but still, a home I would like to have one day. And you know what you will get if you visit me there... someday.

Today I had another one of those lovely moments. And it seems food and beverage are my number one source for such moments. Because the moment I had today had something to do with sugary watermelon crushing between my teeth. It was so good I couldn't believe I had to miss on this taste all winter. And I am a winter person. But it seems even the summer I hate conceals in itself some good things it keeps stashed to compete with my winter. 

I know this must be disappointing, to feel the greatness of life in such petty things, but it is enough as long as I get to feel it, no matter through which means. 

I am having another great moment right now actually. The old singer guy with his Tarboush is sitting across me singing old Arabic tunes that I love and people are tossing coins towards him. I like this guy. I like afternoons sitting outside at Sassine Square, sipping my bad coffee and listening to this old guy. I just love it. I wish I had some of my friends with me, or that special someone sipping bad coffee with me too, but I think it is nice enough as it is. Company would have made it a lot better, true, but sometimes loneliness isn't so bad after all.

My Cat Made Me Cry

It is true. I am not sure if this should be ranked as embarrassing and pathetic or as sensitive and fragile. Mainly because I am not sure which of the aforementioned categories I actually belong to. 

I never thought that I could be so much moved and annoyed simultaneously. I am not sure which of these feelings dominated the other or which was the actual ignition for my tears. Nevertheless, I cried. I cried like I haven't cried - or allowed myself to cry to be more specific - in ages. 

In fact, I am lying. Not too many weeks ago I cried endlessly. But it had been a long time before that time since I had cried. And this is the truth.

I used to cry effortlessly before. Now it takes tons of problems, a huge amount of stress and exaggerated emotional wounds to topple one over the other to make me cry. And they are never the direct reason for the flow of tears. It is always another irrelevant yet significant incident that gets me going. 

My cat is in deep agony. She is a fantastic cat, but like any cat, she has reached that period where she needs to mate, and it is torturing her so much that she is spreading her anguish all over the place. It is distressing us all. We haven't slept in a week. We are kept awake by her constant never-ending mewing, if that is what it is called, because I am pretty sure there is another word for the horrible sounds she is making while she turns on her back and starts rolling around. She is growling, she is hissing, she is shrieking, she is screaming. 

Tonight, I was alone with her. I begged her to stop it, to shut up just for five minutes so I could catch up a bit on my sleep, to do me the favor of going back to being a "minor" cat that is just fuzzy and cuddly; she just wouldn't. She kept looking at me with those big passionate cuddly eyes while rolling over herself under my feet. I am not sure what was the first thought that came into my mind that second, but it was followed by a quick bunch of other frustrating thoughts, and all of a sudden I felt deeply depressed and tears came down flowing over my face. 

Yasmina - my cat - understood. Don't ask me how, don't ask me why, because I am anything but a cat expert. She just did. She stopped all the sounds and all the movements. She climbed up next to me, tuned around me cuddling my back, sat on my left, and she looked at me with the most understanding look ever, a look so piercing with sympathy and perception like you couldn't believe. She started caressing my hand with her paws. Yes, my cat cuddles me just like I cuddle her. It was her apology to me. And I accepted it with a wide open heart. 

Don't you dare laugh at me. This is an absolutely true story. You could always ask Yasmina if you don't believe me. You probably should actually; the communication I experienced with this tiny beautiful cat tonight was far beyond any I have had with another human being in quite a while now.

The Trap

I haven't made an entry in here in a week or so. The reason for this is that I wanted to wait until I found something cheerful to talk about, because my last article was so melancholic. But alas, the week has passed, and nothing good ever came out of it.

I so desperately wanted to retrieve the mood I was in when I wrote the Musical. But it is just not happening. I wake up every morning with the hope of hearing some good news, any good news, but none reaches my ears.

I am even asking if the plumber came and fixed the water problem, because if he did, that would be considered good news, although I don't live where the water is running and I never will.

Work sucks. I am not even officially working actually. I am taking petty jobs that I despise just for the money.
Money. Humanity's tormenter. I hate it. I love it. I have the same relationship with it as everybody else basically. I love it when I have it. I crave it when I don't, which leads me to hate it at those times. 

Now is one of those times.

Now is one of those times when I wake up in the morning craving a purpose, lusting for something to do, for people to meet, for conflicts to arise in my life, for challenges to step up to.

Now is one of those times when I simply can't understand what is happening and can't figure out what is about to happen either.

Now is one of those times when anything could go either way; I can make a mountain of grieves over nothing, and I can also look the other way over serious stuff.

Now is one of those times when I feel useless, when I feel powerless, but when I feel beautiful.

Beautiful because now I have all the time in the world to make myself beautiful. Because I wake up to no schedule, no perspectives, no special people, no specific plans, no nothing. Because make up seems a good activity when you have stopped eating, stopped reading and stopped thinking.

Thinking creeps up on me in the evenings though, and it doesn't leave me alone until I have surrendered to the ugly dreams I am having.

I miss the time when I used to dream of random stuff. All I have been dreaming about lately - and that is a considerable while - are cats, mice and yes, cockroaches.

I am being haunted in my sleep.

I am being haunted by being so careless about my cat. I am neglecting her, and it is torturing me in my sleep.

I am being haunted by cockroaches because I hate their guts. They disgust me to the core.

I am not sure what the mice are about though.

I could truly use a change of scene. I am so bored in here. I so deeply wish I could wake up somewhere where I can see new faces, unknown people. I so desperately wish to overhear a conversation and not be able to grasp a word of it.

I am so sick of people in here, of their dull faces and their meaningless stories.

Maybe people everywhere are like that, true, but, at least they will sound, look and feel new and fresh for a while at least. That would be a very welcome change.

I need to be away for a while in order for me to be able to handle the fact of simply seeing, let alone talking or interacting with the people around me.

In hope that the next entry would be a little less grim, I bid you farewell.

People In My Life, Forgive Me

People in my life, you deserve an apology.
People in my life, forgive me.

Forgive me for I have sinned.
Forgive me for I have lost my mind at times.
Forgive me for I haven't been totally honest with you.
Forgive me for I got scared.
Forgive me for I lost control.
For I gave in to an outburst.
For I got you entangled in my misery.
Forgive me for I am miserable.
Forgive me for I sometimes wipe my fake smile away.
For I use you.
For I abuse you.
Forgive me for I felt sorry for myself.
Forgive me for I have claimed innocence.
Forgive me for I cried.
For I lied.
For I was lied to.
For I took advantage of you.
For I let you take advantage of me.
Forgive me for I am weak.
For I am weaker than you.
Forgive me for my impatience.
Forgive me for my hastiness.
Forgive me for my ego.
For my vanity.
For my shallowness.
Forgive me for I have been selfish.
For I took it to extreme levels.
For I believed.
For I got deceived.
Forgive me for I was obnoxious.
Forgive me for I have treated you wrongly.
For I have let you treat me so.
Forgive me for the nostalgia I feed on.
Forgive me for my routine.
Forgive me for my dullness.
Forgive me for my security.
Forgive me for my self confidence.
Forgive me for my lack of confidence.
Forgive me for I seemed strong.
For I was not.
Forgive me for I let myself shatter.
Forgive me for I have let you shatter me.
Forgive me for my ambitions.
For my talent.
For my faults.
For my stubbornness.

Forgive me for I have sinned.

Forgive me for last night, for I was lost and now am found.

Forgive me for using biblical terms.
Forgive me for I have lost my faith.
Forgive me for I have problems.
For my trouble.
For yours.

Forgive me for my denial.
Forgive me for my pushiness.
Forgive me for my fantasies.
Forgive me for the world I built for myself.
For the nutshell I live in.
For the countries I have never visited.
For the trips I took.
For the trips I will never take.
For the sacrifices I made.
For the ones I will never make.

Forgive me for I was ingrate.
Forgive me for I have lost my grace.
Forgive me for I haven't been nice.
For I have given up.
For I have shown the truth at times.
For I have been myself at times.
For I have forgotten who you were at times.

Forgive me for I have ignored you.
For you have ignored me.
Forgive me for I had hoped.
For the hopes came true.
For the truth didn't last.

Forgive me for I was frail.
For I was fragile.
For I am frail.
For I am fragile.

Forgive me for I still have ambitions.
For I still have hopes.
For I yearn.
For I yearn for success.
For I yearn for health.
For I yearn for love.
Forgive me for I will never change.
Forgive me for I want to change.
Forgive me for I can't change.

Forgive me for I have let opportunities slide.
For I haven't made the effort.
For I have made the effort.
For I have stopped making the effort.

Forgive me for I am but human.
For I speak my mind.
For I don't.
For I love.
For I hate.
For I am needy.
For I am greedy.
For I never get enough.

Forgive me for it takes me time to withdraw.
Forgive me for I don't withdraw.
Forgive me for I can't leave my world.
For I take it with me wherever I go.

Forgive me for I want to let go.
Forgive me for I can't.

People in my life, forgive me.
Forgive me for my regrets.
Forgive me for I want to repent.
Forgive me... for I can't.

The Musical

I woke up in a good mood today. I had music playing in my head. It was early.

I kept singing in my head till 2:00 p.m. That is when the electricity got cut. 

I said a heartfelt thank you in my head to my good friends who bought me an IPod for my birthday. Such a great invention!

The music started blasting in my ears, and for once, I let it lead me to where it wanted.

I caught myself getting up and dancing on the balcony. Alone.

I wondered if anyone could see me from the cracks of the curtains, and if anyone did, what would they think? Not that I care, not today, today is the day of me not caring, but I was just curious.

I don't feel like reading these days. My mind is simply elsewhere. I cannot concentrate.

I was dancing in front of the book, as if to spite it, as if to tell it that I had found something better to do with my time, at least for today.

Today is such a peaceful day. I am catching up with work. I am not eating a lot. I am enjoying privacy.

I miss my privacy. I miss independence, although even for a one day reminder, I recalled how annoying it could be at times, especially since I had to shower in a most primitive way AND using candlelight.

I kept wondering, what if I opened the curtains, would my dream of living a musical come true?

I guess I will never know now, simply because of my cowardice. I am sure 100% of you would - logically - love to assure me that no housewives would come out to their balconies banging on their pots and pans if they saw me dancing, and that no, musicals do not really happen.

But I would like to hold on to the part of me that still finds it in itself to fantasize, to live a little, even if it was only in my head.

Just imagine how nicer the world would be if housewives took a live musical break once per day. What a fantastic lunch break it would be for workers to watch them, and then join them.

I imagine a happier world, a simpler one. A world where you don't have doubts, questions or grieves for just an hour per day. An hour just to shake it on the beat of wonderful melodies.

I forgot to mention I was wearing my pajamas, well technically I am still wearing them, but anyway, and when I caught my reflection on the TV set, I wondered whatever the hell happened to pajama parties. I am not sure if I had ever been to one, but I felt it was a great shame that no one throws those anymore. I would love to go dance my head off in pajamas, just what a blast it would be! How comfy! How refreshing and liberating!

And then when I tried to concentrate on the moves I was making, I noticed that nothing I was doing would ever make sense to anyone since I was the only one hearing the music that made me move this way or that. I imagined yet another great party theme, an IPod party! Oh man are the Apple people going to be grateful to me for throwing such a genius idea towards them! Yeah yeah I know I am babbling, but I do believe I am still drunk, last night's effects mind you.

Did I mention yet that I am now an official fan of white wine? I recently acquired the taste and I loved it. Now it doesn't seem that I can stop sipping it.

The few brain cells I still have left are sending me yet another wonderful idea. What about mixing the two great themes together and having a pajama IPod party?? Wouldn't THAT be something??

Yours truly,

A wine and apple juice addict.

Do You Believe In Luck?

Do you? I do. I do because I believe in everything that offers both a thesis and an antithesis. 

The thesis goes as follows: You are lucky.

The antithesis is therefore logically: You are unlucky.

Luck. People crave it. People want it more than anything. They want it to interfere with every aspect of their lives. Work, family, cards, games, school, love, finding a cab, buying a house, traveling, lottery, etc...

People even depend on it. Take poker players for example.

Well let us get back to our constant subject, me. Me and my luck. Or my lack of it to be more precise.

Have you ever had the feeling that it is all backfiring on you? That somehow whatever you do and no matter how much effort you devote to your ends, something always gets in the way?

I am sure you have. But I am also sure you have never experienced it for 25 consecutive years.

I have.

My sole wish at the moment is that something, anything, works for me. I don't really care if it is as simple as finding a ride to work easily. Even that will leave me content and most grateful. I am that desperate for some luck in any shape, any.

I would love it if one day I would manage to skip the insomnia part and go right to the part where I snore.

I will wrap it up with this thought in hope it will come to life tonight.

You Guessed It, I Am Bored Again

You know you are so bored when you start playing minesweeper again. Take it from someone who knows, who has been there and has done that, playing minesweeper that is.

You know you are so bored when you advertise your boredom on your Facebook page and then you snap at anyone who tries to either joke about it or make it easier on you.

You know you are so bored when you wish your friends would come back to Lebanon for the sole purpose of entertaining you.

You know you are so bored when you are one step away of tossing your laptop and trampling on it.

You know you are so bored when you are unconsciously eavesdropping on people around you in the coffee shop and suddenly you feel exasperated but without knowing why. It takes you at least 10 to 15 minutes before realizing it is their banal exchange that is getting on your nerves.

But then again, any exchange at the moment, no matter how banal you might esteem it to be, could be a cure to this suffocating boredom.

Boredom and loneliness if I may add.

Or are both words synonyms? Are they the two facets of the same coin?

Getting back to the subject, you know you are bored when you start creating or even recycling nonsense philosophical matters.

You know you are so lonely when the void in your stomach isn't a sign of hunger. And that is not philosophy, that is simply a fact.

You know you are so lonely and so bored when you start doing things you wouldn't usually do, things you wouldn't usually approve of others doing, let alone you.

You know you are so lonely and so bored when you try to push it forward although you are not convinced. You know you are wrong, you know it is wrong, you know this is leading nowhere, well nowhere good at least, and yet, you do it.

You know you are so lonely and so bored when you don't really care. You say you care. You know you should care. But you simply don't. 

You know you are so lonely and so bored when you take hours to shower, pick some clothes, get dressed and do the make up and hair parade.

You know you are so lonely and so bored when after you are done with the parade, you head to the coffee shop with hopes that you will have enough energy to go somewhere else after a while. But you never go.

You know you are so lonely and so bored when you get stubborn. 

You know you are so lonely and so bored when you write a blog for the sake of writing it. You have nothing to say, nothing new to add, nothing meaningful to share, and still, you do it just to do something, something that is not necessarily new, not necessarily different, just another variety of your favorite activities; you love to read, you love to write, and you love to use your dying laptop, therefore you write another blog.