There is nothing like a handsome, dark, tall, husky, thick hair, wide eyed man to approach you and express some interest. OK, maybe not everyone has the same taste as me, but that's what I like, and I have no shame! Take a moment and think, think of the man that you would see yourself with. Think of your fantasy man. He's handsome, smart, stupid, ugly, short, tall, fat, skinny, whatever. Just think. This is your dream man. Now, this dream boy approaches you and talks to you and asks you questions and tells you all the good things a girl wants to hear.
Then, you see it. In my case, it's a cross. This dream boy has a cross hanging from his neck. He's one of them! He's The Other Religion! *GASP!* OH NO! You thought you met The One! Guess what! He's not because your parents will kick your ass from here to the territory of Hamas if you even thought about looking at this guy again!
Has anyone been swept of their feet by this guy? Isn't it depressing when it does happen? Doesn't it shoot your faith in finding The One to shit? Ladies and gentleman, if you say no, then:
1. You have never experienced The Other Religion
2. You are currently in a relationship with The Other Religion (FYI, one of you will get dumped)
3. You are 12 years old and have no business reading this blog
4. You're my mother
Now, if you have never experienced this, I recommend you try not to. Unless you like being hurt because one loves Jesus and the other loves Mohamed and you like to fool yourself thinking both families will except it, be my guest. However, it most likely won't work. Our culture will not allow women to "explore" other religions. It actually won't allow men to explore other religions, but being the stupid Arabs that we are, according to us, we are invincible and no one can touch us. Can't nobody hold us down, can't nobody take our pride, oh no! We got to keep on moving! Hey guess what Arabs, you're fucking idiots!
Go in a relationship with one, whether you're Christian or Muslim. I dare you. I guarantee you this: the guy, because men effing suck most of the time, will make an advance to you in which you will sit and contemplate your own moral value when this is brought up. What is the advance you ask? Touching the danger zones. What are the danger zones? The milkers (boobies) and the inserts (va-jay-jay) that God gave you! If you need more explanation, then you people need to take an anatomy class. I'm no where near a teacher/educator/professor. For some reason, The Other Religion (again, this could be either Christian, Muslim, or any other cult/belief/whatever you want it to be, so long as it is not your dysfunctional belief) will take it upon himself to constantly talk about sex. Sex this and sex that and I wanna do this to you and I wanna do that to you. After the handsome, intelligent man feeds you what you want to hear, the dirty boy comes out!
Here's what makes my case even more ridiculous than it sounds. The Other Religion is some sort of figure/believer in their deen (religion). This can be the guy that prays five times a day, or the one that is at every church picnic finding donations for the new cross to erect in the front of Sunday Service. This guy is The Guy To Go To when their organization is in need. What's even funnier is how he is so down low about it! SHHHHHH! Don't tell anyone about us, Shhhhh! My reputation is on the line! WTF! Fool! What about mine?!?! Moron! If you were so worried about it in the first place, why are you shutting me up now? Why did you even open your mouth and tell me all the bullshit a girl wants to hear? Fucking moron! Kuss im el yahood I say! It seems that The Other Religion's intent was to get tail!
So, why go to you? First, it's already enough to approach an Arab girl and "talk" (ha, yea right, just talk). You don't want to soil the preset notions that Unimportant Acquaintances have already established for you. Second, they don't feel bad when they approach Their Other Religion, because when it comes down to it (in the Arab culture) the men have a bit more power. They have the key to talk about a female's reputation. However unfortunate it is for us (females), Unimportant Acquaintances will look at the female and judge quickly. They haven't realized that THE GUY just said he slept with her or ate cookies with her or talked to her or whatever shit ruins reputations nowadays. They only heard the girl's name. Third, you can't try to pop a cherry of a girl that is the same as you! Oh NO! That's disrespectful! Their Other Religion can't marry me, so why not! When I get what I want, I can go and I don't have to marry the girl!
Yeah, I said it. The Other Religion is out to get you so he can try whatever dirtiness he can to put it in you. Then, when he does, out the door he goes. This explains why many Arabs go to the White Backups. Men "have needs" bullshit plays into effect here. The ones with the White Backups go to them for sexual solace, thinking they respect the Arab girls, and have their way. When their hornyness has been tired and rid, they become The Suitor. Ahhh, lucky Arab women. Is that burning you feel between your legs? Thank your husband. He was The Other Religion with the White Backup who got it from her ex boyfriend that was in jail and got that from a man named Bubsy. Nothing says I love you like a burning blister.
The only lucky mat here is the one that belongs to the White Backups. They don't have to end up marrying these dumb asses, unless they need a green card.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
UKBAL 3NDIK (WISHING YOU YOUR TURN)
I find the Arabic phrase "Ukbal 3ndik" (paraphrase: wishing you your turn) to be utterly annoying. It is a great phrase to hear when one graduates college and it is said to you after you congratulate the new graduate on their achievement. It is a fantastic phrase to hear when you congratulate one on his/her new home. It is the most annoying phrase to hear at Debacles. At The Debacles, it is always followed by a "Why aren't you married yet?" which drives me b-a-n-a-n-a-s!
In 2008 alone, I was invited to 18 Debacles and managed to attend 14. Yes, I was broke that year because of all The Fools that created a hubub in The Debacle to celebrate the future The Mistake. Now, needless to say, some realized The Mistake was a mistake and took an oath of The Escape (divorce). The Escape will be a whole other blog one day. But today, let's focus on the "Ukbal 3ndik" (in fala7y (farmer) terms, "Uchbal 3ndich"). The Debacles in 2008 were not all Arab weddings, but most were. Being (at the time) 25, a hefty amount of Nobodies (aka: Unimportant Acquaintances) were quick to approach me with the "Why aren't you married yet?" and "You're not getting any younger" bullshit. That's always nice to hear. Thank you, Nobodies. I cannot find what it is that is wrong with me because I am not in The Mistake just yet. My response was that I was trying to set myself up, financially. I wanted to make sure my credit is good, there is money in my account, and all the drama is out of my life. Paraphrase to Arabs, I'm not ready yet. Apparently, I need not worry about all of that because my husband will take care of me and that there shouldn't be any drama in my life, anyways. I guess I missed the memo about living in a box until I make The Mistake or die.
Next, the questions begin with what I do for a living and where do I live and other nonsense that initiates the scouting of females for desperate Suitors unable to find The One on their own. Instead, Mommy goes and searches for what she wishes she was when she was my age and hopes for beautiful and smart babies to gloat about to other Unimportant Acquaintances (aka Nobodies, or other Arabs that like to gossip). After the whole, "I'm just not ready" response, Mommy seems to give me a look as if I have just deceived them! It is as if I had told them I was interested and then decided to change my thought and they feel deceived! The funny part is that I told them from the get-go!
The worst part of "Ukbal 3ndik" is when The Pushy Mom (guess, who's mom this is) spills out of her mouth like water in a fountain. This is then followed by a "I cannot wait until your (enter English work for Debacle here) and you have many (Monsters (children)) and I can't take care of them while you and (The One) go out!" Well thank you Pushy Mom for reminding me that I will need a Monster Tamer (babysitter) for my Monsters because I will eventually have no life because I made The Mistake. This is then followed by a, "Why aren't you married yet? I want to see you happy. You should be happy!" Seriously? You and other Unimportant Acquaintances are asking this stupid question as if I had leprosy and I am hiding it from the world (sometimes I wish I had it, it be a much more valid excuse to Nobodies).
I never knew that The Mistake would make someone complete, or happy. I always thought that one is at the happiest stage of life when The Escape takes place (you should see how happy some people get when the papers are finally signed, it's quite entertaining). It irritates me because "Ukbal 3ndik" really means, "You aren't happy, so get married and give me something to talk about to other Unimportant Acquaintances. And when I see you through a problem, I will not help you out, I will instead talk bad about you because I'm that kind of prick." This is what that shit really means.
It is now 2009, and I have attended about four weddings (much more money in my bank account...WHEW!). Some Unimportant Acquantaince told me "Ukbal 3ndik" with their, what seems to be scripted, followup questions quickly thereafter. My response, "Khalto, I am a lesbian. Mom didn't tell you?"
Ahhhh mat, you are so lucky with your careless life on your back.
In 2008 alone, I was invited to 18 Debacles and managed to attend 14. Yes, I was broke that year because of all The Fools that created a hubub in The Debacle to celebrate the future The Mistake. Now, needless to say, some realized The Mistake was a mistake and took an oath of The Escape (divorce). The Escape will be a whole other blog one day. But today, let's focus on the "Ukbal 3ndik" (in fala7y (farmer) terms, "Uchbal 3ndich"). The Debacles in 2008 were not all Arab weddings, but most were. Being (at the time) 25, a hefty amount of Nobodies (aka: Unimportant Acquaintances) were quick to approach me with the "Why aren't you married yet?" and "You're not getting any younger" bullshit. That's always nice to hear. Thank you, Nobodies. I cannot find what it is that is wrong with me because I am not in The Mistake just yet. My response was that I was trying to set myself up, financially. I wanted to make sure my credit is good, there is money in my account, and all the drama is out of my life. Paraphrase to Arabs, I'm not ready yet. Apparently, I need not worry about all of that because my husband will take care of me and that there shouldn't be any drama in my life, anyways. I guess I missed the memo about living in a box until I make The Mistake or die.
Next, the questions begin with what I do for a living and where do I live and other nonsense that initiates the scouting of females for desperate Suitors unable to find The One on their own. Instead, Mommy goes and searches for what she wishes she was when she was my age and hopes for beautiful and smart babies to gloat about to other Unimportant Acquaintances (aka Nobodies, or other Arabs that like to gossip). After the whole, "I'm just not ready" response, Mommy seems to give me a look as if I have just deceived them! It is as if I had told them I was interested and then decided to change my thought and they feel deceived! The funny part is that I told them from the get-go!
The worst part of "Ukbal 3ndik" is when The Pushy Mom (guess, who's mom this is) spills out of her mouth like water in a fountain. This is then followed by a "I cannot wait until your (enter English work for Debacle here) and you have many (Monsters (children)) and I can't take care of them while you and (The One) go out!" Well thank you Pushy Mom for reminding me that I will need a Monster Tamer (babysitter) for my Monsters because I will eventually have no life because I made The Mistake. This is then followed by a, "Why aren't you married yet? I want to see you happy. You should be happy!" Seriously? You and other Unimportant Acquaintances are asking this stupid question as if I had leprosy and I am hiding it from the world (sometimes I wish I had it, it be a much more valid excuse to Nobodies).
I never knew that The Mistake would make someone complete, or happy. I always thought that one is at the happiest stage of life when The Escape takes place (you should see how happy some people get when the papers are finally signed, it's quite entertaining). It irritates me because "Ukbal 3ndik" really means, "You aren't happy, so get married and give me something to talk about to other Unimportant Acquaintances. And when I see you through a problem, I will not help you out, I will instead talk bad about you because I'm that kind of prick." This is what that shit really means.
It is now 2009, and I have attended about four weddings (much more money in my bank account...WHEW!). Some Unimportant Acquantaince told me "Ukbal 3ndik" with their, what seems to be scripted, followup questions quickly thereafter. My response, "Khalto, I am a lesbian. Mom didn't tell you?"
Ahhhh mat, you are so lucky with your careless life on your back.
Friday, November 20, 2009
THE ARABLOUNGE EXPERIMENT
Have you ever tried the drudgery of online dating? Well, I have. Now, many of you may already have a preset notion that it sucks. Others may argue otherwise, claiming to have found The One on it, or in the process of it. My situation is not so fortunate! I have a devised some stories of my online escapade from ArabLounge.com.
The ArabLounge experiment
What I did was look for my options. I signed on, behind my mother's back (because in her eyes, she would believe that I was looking for husband, thus thinking that her goal of me getting married by December would come true). Yes, she implemented a goal. More like a deadline, but I like to call it a goal. It was my goal specifically to wait and NOT get married by December just out of sheer spite for her even mentioning that ludicrous timeline. Anyways, I told most of the men a fake name, and a fake life...meaning, I live alone in the city, I have a super amazing job and that's about the only lie I told them. My personality was no different and I did not upload a photo. However, if I seemed to have like a person, or didn't think anything shady of them within the first few minutes of our "chat", I would tell them the real truth, my name and the fact that I don't live alone. The results are as follows. Enjoy!
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The Stalker
The Stalker contacted me because he was "in love" with my profile, that lacked a picture. He claimed that I was hysterical. Well, he didn't use that word because I don't think he was quite the articulate kind. But, for those of us who know English, I used a synonym. The Stalker seemed nice. However, he was quite older than I, and had a child. Being a never married "girl", I wasn't ready to allow myself the extra baggage. Besides, women are already branded as crazy, and I have enough issues on my own to deal with. Either way, he was kind and a bit funny. Not too much. But, he tried and I give him credit for it. Well, I eventually lost interest with our chats because I knew I wasn't going to allow it to go further than online. I started receiving email messages wondering where I was, giving me his number, and eventually it led to, "WHERE ARE YOU?"! Yes, all in caps. The Stalker yelled at me via email. How nice. Needless to say, I became even more distant. I eventually wrote to The Stalker and told him that his inability to back off was quite scary. That was my first experience with the wonderful world of ArabLounge.com.
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The Christian
The Christian was a nice fellow. He was a stetson young fellow working for a good company in the city. He lived downtown, seeming to do well for himself. He was also new to the area. His point in case for ArabLounge was to meet new people (he really wanted to meet women considering he was a frequent flier of ArabLounge) and was doing so-so with that. Him and I were chatting for quite a bit. Honestly, I didn't tell him my real name or situation because I didn't feel that I could trust the man. What was ironic was that he trusted me with everything (or at least that is what it seemed like). The kicker was when he told me that he went on a date and thought of me throughout the whole date. I thought it was quite brazen of him to admit that and I admired him for that, although not enough to give him a phone number. After chatting with him, I looked a bit more closely at his profile and found that he was Christian. If you didn't see the news today, I'm Muslim. I became a bit frustrated with the fact that it stated on my profile that I was looking for a Muslim! When I eventually deleted the account, I failed to notify him of my departure. Well, at least Jesus loves The Christian.
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The Divorce'
This man was also 10 years my senior (The Stalker with the 12 year old was 10 years older than me. I failed to note both their ages of him and his child). He seemed very nice. He was Sweet, educated, had a sense of humor, and wit. However, his taste in music is accustomed to a man smack dab in the middle of a mid-life crisis, ridiculed of DJ Tiesto and other nonsense of noise that are pointless to my ears. I told him the fib of my life, living alone...blah blah blah. His response entailed that he was "cool" with it because it showed my independence and lack of need. I thought, "Very nice! This guy has an open mind."
Now, his name is strictly what it is, he is divorced. Let me clarify, I have nothing wrong with anyone that is divorced, and it is none of my business to why this man was divorced. We were not close enough to discuss it, plus I didn't want to damper our conversations with his past issues. I have never been divorced, but This One sure as hell made me think I was in one! I eventually told him the truth; my real name, my real job, and the fact that I lived with my mother (typical Arab unmarried girl). Let me state again, my personality was no different. His response, he was glad that I do not live alone. Girls shouldn't be living alone. It seems that someone is a bit on the contradictory side, fun future! After giving him more of the benefit of the doubt (because hypocrisy seemed to be prevalent with his personality after the I shouldn't be living alone comment), I gave The Divorce' my number and we began talking. He became upset of the fact that we did not speak daily. I simply didn't have the time for a conversation everyday. Those who know me, know that! Plus, I hate talking on the phone. Yes, a girl just said that she hated talking on the phone.
One day, he had sent a text, and I responded with a joke of the topic that he sent me. It was a very meaningless text. I don't remember what was said, that is how pointless it was to me. He then responded back with a phone call and few other people to back up his personality. One person began telling me (after handing the phone to this person) that The Divorce' was really a great guy and very trustworthy and handsome, etc. My eyes were practically bulging out and near the floor along with my jaw. Another person soon exclaimed to me how fantastic and helpful The Divorce' is and how I am a very lucky person to be talking to him! Now that's great and fantastic that Divorce' is capable of being a great man, but why the testimonies? Regardless, I apologized that he took whatever I said to heart and had to explain to him that I am a trustful person and that he gave me to reason not to trust him. We must also consider the notion that this was not really a relationship. These were just mere phone calls that lasted no longer than an hour.
We then decided to meet, or go on a date in the words of an American. Well, I was happy that I can actually meet this person and see what he was about. After a few more conversations, we began to talk about The Mistake (the mistake is the cause of The Debacle, aka Marriage). I ask why he spoke so much of The Mistake. He told me that it is one of his "to do's", as if it were on a checklist of some sort! I told him this, if you make it seem like a task, then it will be a task. He apparently didn't like that. Reason to why I know he didn't like that...he canceled our date the day of. FAIL Divorce', fail.
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The Whitewash
The Whitewash was of Middle Eastern decent, who had no idea of where he was from. He thought our culture was devised of hummos, baba ghanoush, bellydancers, and hookah. He was completely oblivious to the fact that there was a language attached to the culture! He lacked any real interpretation of who he was because he was, in his eyes, white. I also went on a date with The Whitewash. In fact, I was honest with him from the get-go. He wasn't my type at all, in fact a bit too skinny for my liking, but seemed very laid back and Americanized. Little did I know how Americanized he was!
Our date consisted of a quaint Middle Eastern restaurant in the city. It is actually one of my favorite places. He was not dressed for the occasion. A white tee shirt (more like undershirt...Arab hillbilly), jeans, baseball cap, and gym shoes clearly expressed the lack of respect for a first date. It could have also been that he was that low maintenance. I, on the other hand came causal (slightly lifted up a notch) with a bit dressier shirt (which didn't belong under anything, it was a regular shirt), also known as the blouse. It was something nice, you get the point. Oh yeah! I wore heels and had makeup on. I don't always where too much makeup. On this day, I wore mascara! I only wear mascara to weddings! So yes, I took a bit extra care that day. Sorry for the digression, I tend to do that on occasion. As I was saying, we go to the restaurant and he orders an appetizer, of course it was hummos. He then decides to order the specialty wine (which was far better than my date). He then apologized for the fact that we are ordering wine to the owner! "Sorry to have Arabs do this, but can we have a glass of .....".
Really?!?!?!?!?!?! YOU FUCKNUT (thought in my head)
First, did they have to know that we were Arab? Second, did you NOT know that NOT all Arabs are Muslim? Third, SHUT THE FUCK UP! OMG!
After watching this creature eat, and having to continuously point out that he had something on the side of his mouth from the food (more than twice), the bill came. Yes, the wretched bill. As always, because I am not expecting him to pay for everything, I offered to pay. He accepted. I was not surprised. I'm a bit old school in that sense, a gentleman always pays and holds the door open and blah blah bullshit that I expect in a man. Although, it was kind of him to knock a few dollars off because I drove to the city (considering I don't live in the city, but the 'burbs are boring as hell and full of chain junk). Just in case you couldn't tell, the last sentence was sarcasm. We then went for coffee. The coffee escapade was quite the trip. He paid (thanks jag, very nice of you to dish out an extra $4 on shitty coffee) and then told me of his business plans. I told him my two cents, and he didn't like it. Needless to say, the no-phone call back to one another was a mutual feeling.
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The Hornball
The chat went as follows:
Hornball: "Hi"
Me: "Hi"
HB: "You horny?"
Me: (clicking the exit button)
HB opens window again:
HB: "You horny?"
Me: (wondering at this point if he got the message that I thought he was a douche. AL notifies you when someone closes their window) "I'm a transvestite and my dick is probably bigger than yours." (close window)
Never heard from him again.
SAVE!
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My Screw-up with the one that was Out of My League
For him to even have agreed to go out with me that day was quite interesting to me. It showed that handsome men see more than appearance. It was a breathe of fresh air. It was nice. I have a preset notion that good looking men are shallow.
Too make a long story short, I'll give you the juicy part. I did the biggest faux-paux that could have ever been done (actually there were two major fauxs). One of them consisted of me drinking more than I can handle. Can I just say that sangria is a silent effing killer! It's like the AIDS virus! You don't know that you have it until you have it! Well, then with a bit more peer pressure (this was a double date/meet), I had something else and that topped me off. Now, this was consistant throughout the night (the drinks) and eventually, I came to the part to where I told the guy he was (second faux paux) out of my league. However, I don't regret it. In fact, I thought he was.
I couldn't understand why it was me that he spoke with. I didn't get why he had taking a liking to me! I couldn't fathom it! In many ways, I end up feeling that I have a different personality online in comparison to actually meeting the person. I tend to be a bit more reserved in person. Online, I was witty and had the ability to hide behind my laptop and say whatever I wanted to say. He couldn't see me or do anything to me. The only thing he could have done was close his magical chat window. We get to meeting, and I froze. I was not the normal me. I was back in the box and shut it closed. The sangria opened it up slightly. Because of the sangria, the box had fell to the side and opened in a ditch of filthy waters.
If I could apologize, I would. In fact, I tried but I'm sure I scared him off. By the way, I'm really good at scaring people off. You will see. No worries, I am not perfect, in fact, I'm far from it (if you weren't able to tell by my horrible grammar already).
So this is to you Mr. You're Out of My League. I am sorry. I am sorry for hiding and allowing alcohol have me open up on the wrong side of the murky waters. I am sorry for having one too many sangrias (freaking silent killer, it's like effing venom!). I am also sorry for making you feel uncomfortable by telling you that you were out of my league. If I was in your situation, I would...well, I would tell me off and tell me how ridiculous I am.
However, you are very cute. I thought I should throw that in. In fact, your eyes mesmerize me. You are also very smart, funny, a gentleman, hospitable, and your vocabulary tantalized my mind because I didn't think Arab men had the ability to be articulate.
WHAT? I'm sure he'll never read this...and if he does, well then he does. That's life folks.
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See people, no one is perfect. In fact, I am far from it.
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From all this, what did I learn? I learned that white people are incognito in the form of Arabs, hornballs exist everywhere in all cultures (in fact, I knew this from before), Jesus lovers are attracted to what they cannot have, The Mistake is now on the "to do" list of life, and stalkers are much better when they don't know where you live. Also, I need to cool down with the lack of confidence. There is more that meets the eye. I'll admit, when one lacks confidence, it is a turn off. Although, so is over confidence. Really, conceited is the better terminology.
Not so lucky of a mat here.
The ArabLounge experiment
What I did was look for my options. I signed on, behind my mother's back (because in her eyes, she would believe that I was looking for husband, thus thinking that her goal of me getting married by December would come true). Yes, she implemented a goal. More like a deadline, but I like to call it a goal. It was my goal specifically to wait and NOT get married by December just out of sheer spite for her even mentioning that ludicrous timeline. Anyways, I told most of the men a fake name, and a fake life...meaning, I live alone in the city, I have a super amazing job and that's about the only lie I told them. My personality was no different and I did not upload a photo. However, if I seemed to have like a person, or didn't think anything shady of them within the first few minutes of our "chat", I would tell them the real truth, my name and the fact that I don't live alone. The results are as follows. Enjoy!
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The Stalker
The Stalker contacted me because he was "in love" with my profile, that lacked a picture. He claimed that I was hysterical. Well, he didn't use that word because I don't think he was quite the articulate kind. But, for those of us who know English, I used a synonym. The Stalker seemed nice. However, he was quite older than I, and had a child. Being a never married "girl", I wasn't ready to allow myself the extra baggage. Besides, women are already branded as crazy, and I have enough issues on my own to deal with. Either way, he was kind and a bit funny. Not too much. But, he tried and I give him credit for it. Well, I eventually lost interest with our chats because I knew I wasn't going to allow it to go further than online. I started receiving email messages wondering where I was, giving me his number, and eventually it led to, "WHERE ARE YOU?"! Yes, all in caps. The Stalker yelled at me via email. How nice. Needless to say, I became even more distant. I eventually wrote to The Stalker and told him that his inability to back off was quite scary. That was my first experience with the wonderful world of ArabLounge.com.
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The Christian
The Christian was a nice fellow. He was a stetson young fellow working for a good company in the city. He lived downtown, seeming to do well for himself. He was also new to the area. His point in case for ArabLounge was to meet new people (he really wanted to meet women considering he was a frequent flier of ArabLounge) and was doing so-so with that. Him and I were chatting for quite a bit. Honestly, I didn't tell him my real name or situation because I didn't feel that I could trust the man. What was ironic was that he trusted me with everything (or at least that is what it seemed like). The kicker was when he told me that he went on a date and thought of me throughout the whole date. I thought it was quite brazen of him to admit that and I admired him for that, although not enough to give him a phone number. After chatting with him, I looked a bit more closely at his profile and found that he was Christian. If you didn't see the news today, I'm Muslim. I became a bit frustrated with the fact that it stated on my profile that I was looking for a Muslim! When I eventually deleted the account, I failed to notify him of my departure. Well, at least Jesus loves The Christian.
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The Divorce'
This man was also 10 years my senior (The Stalker with the 12 year old was 10 years older than me. I failed to note both their ages of him and his child). He seemed very nice. He was Sweet, educated, had a sense of humor, and wit. However, his taste in music is accustomed to a man smack dab in the middle of a mid-life crisis, ridiculed of DJ Tiesto and other nonsense of noise that are pointless to my ears. I told him the fib of my life, living alone...blah blah blah. His response entailed that he was "cool" with it because it showed my independence and lack of need. I thought, "Very nice! This guy has an open mind."
Now, his name is strictly what it is, he is divorced. Let me clarify, I have nothing wrong with anyone that is divorced, and it is none of my business to why this man was divorced. We were not close enough to discuss it, plus I didn't want to damper our conversations with his past issues. I have never been divorced, but This One sure as hell made me think I was in one! I eventually told him the truth; my real name, my real job, and the fact that I lived with my mother (typical Arab unmarried girl). Let me state again, my personality was no different. His response, he was glad that I do not live alone. Girls shouldn't be living alone. It seems that someone is a bit on the contradictory side, fun future! After giving him more of the benefit of the doubt (because hypocrisy seemed to be prevalent with his personality after the I shouldn't be living alone comment), I gave The Divorce' my number and we began talking. He became upset of the fact that we did not speak daily. I simply didn't have the time for a conversation everyday. Those who know me, know that! Plus, I hate talking on the phone. Yes, a girl just said that she hated talking on the phone.
One day, he had sent a text, and I responded with a joke of the topic that he sent me. It was a very meaningless text. I don't remember what was said, that is how pointless it was to me. He then responded back with a phone call and few other people to back up his personality. One person began telling me (after handing the phone to this person) that The Divorce' was really a great guy and very trustworthy and handsome, etc. My eyes were practically bulging out and near the floor along with my jaw. Another person soon exclaimed to me how fantastic and helpful The Divorce' is and how I am a very lucky person to be talking to him! Now that's great and fantastic that Divorce' is capable of being a great man, but why the testimonies? Regardless, I apologized that he took whatever I said to heart and had to explain to him that I am a trustful person and that he gave me to reason not to trust him. We must also consider the notion that this was not really a relationship. These were just mere phone calls that lasted no longer than an hour.
We then decided to meet, or go on a date in the words of an American. Well, I was happy that I can actually meet this person and see what he was about. After a few more conversations, we began to talk about The Mistake (the mistake is the cause of The Debacle, aka Marriage). I ask why he spoke so much of The Mistake. He told me that it is one of his "to do's", as if it were on a checklist of some sort! I told him this, if you make it seem like a task, then it will be a task. He apparently didn't like that. Reason to why I know he didn't like that...he canceled our date the day of. FAIL Divorce', fail.
*******************************************
The Whitewash
The Whitewash was of Middle Eastern decent, who had no idea of where he was from. He thought our culture was devised of hummos, baba ghanoush, bellydancers, and hookah. He was completely oblivious to the fact that there was a language attached to the culture! He lacked any real interpretation of who he was because he was, in his eyes, white. I also went on a date with The Whitewash. In fact, I was honest with him from the get-go. He wasn't my type at all, in fact a bit too skinny for my liking, but seemed very laid back and Americanized. Little did I know how Americanized he was!
Our date consisted of a quaint Middle Eastern restaurant in the city. It is actually one of my favorite places. He was not dressed for the occasion. A white tee shirt (more like undershirt...Arab hillbilly), jeans, baseball cap, and gym shoes clearly expressed the lack of respect for a first date. It could have also been that he was that low maintenance. I, on the other hand came causal (slightly lifted up a notch) with a bit dressier shirt (which didn't belong under anything, it was a regular shirt), also known as the blouse. It was something nice, you get the point. Oh yeah! I wore heels and had makeup on. I don't always where too much makeup. On this day, I wore mascara! I only wear mascara to weddings! So yes, I took a bit extra care that day. Sorry for the digression, I tend to do that on occasion. As I was saying, we go to the restaurant and he orders an appetizer, of course it was hummos. He then decides to order the specialty wine (which was far better than my date). He then apologized for the fact that we are ordering wine to the owner! "Sorry to have Arabs do this, but can we have a glass of .....".
Really?!?!?!?!?!?! YOU FUCKNUT (thought in my head)
First, did they have to know that we were Arab? Second, did you NOT know that NOT all Arabs are Muslim? Third, SHUT THE FUCK UP! OMG!
After watching this creature eat, and having to continuously point out that he had something on the side of his mouth from the food (more than twice), the bill came. Yes, the wretched bill. As always, because I am not expecting him to pay for everything, I offered to pay. He accepted. I was not surprised. I'm a bit old school in that sense, a gentleman always pays and holds the door open and blah blah bullshit that I expect in a man. Although, it was kind of him to knock a few dollars off because I drove to the city (considering I don't live in the city, but the 'burbs are boring as hell and full of chain junk). Just in case you couldn't tell, the last sentence was sarcasm. We then went for coffee. The coffee escapade was quite the trip. He paid (thanks jag, very nice of you to dish out an extra $4 on shitty coffee) and then told me of his business plans. I told him my two cents, and he didn't like it. Needless to say, the no-phone call back to one another was a mutual feeling.
**************************************
The Hornball
The chat went as follows:
Hornball: "Hi"
Me: "Hi"
HB: "You horny?"
Me: (clicking the exit button)
HB opens window again:
HB: "You horny?"
Me: (wondering at this point if he got the message that I thought he was a douche. AL notifies you when someone closes their window) "I'm a transvestite and my dick is probably bigger than yours." (close window)
Never heard from him again.
SAVE!
********************************************
My Screw-up with the one that was Out of My League
For him to even have agreed to go out with me that day was quite interesting to me. It showed that handsome men see more than appearance. It was a breathe of fresh air. It was nice. I have a preset notion that good looking men are shallow.
Too make a long story short, I'll give you the juicy part. I did the biggest faux-paux that could have ever been done (actually there were two major fauxs). One of them consisted of me drinking more than I can handle. Can I just say that sangria is a silent effing killer! It's like the AIDS virus! You don't know that you have it until you have it! Well, then with a bit more peer pressure (this was a double date/meet), I had something else and that topped me off. Now, this was consistant throughout the night (the drinks) and eventually, I came to the part to where I told the guy he was (second faux paux) out of my league. However, I don't regret it. In fact, I thought he was.
I couldn't understand why it was me that he spoke with. I didn't get why he had taking a liking to me! I couldn't fathom it! In many ways, I end up feeling that I have a different personality online in comparison to actually meeting the person. I tend to be a bit more reserved in person. Online, I was witty and had the ability to hide behind my laptop and say whatever I wanted to say. He couldn't see me or do anything to me. The only thing he could have done was close his magical chat window. We get to meeting, and I froze. I was not the normal me. I was back in the box and shut it closed. The sangria opened it up slightly. Because of the sangria, the box had fell to the side and opened in a ditch of filthy waters.
If I could apologize, I would. In fact, I tried but I'm sure I scared him off. By the way, I'm really good at scaring people off. You will see. No worries, I am not perfect, in fact, I'm far from it (if you weren't able to tell by my horrible grammar already).
So this is to you Mr. You're Out of My League. I am sorry. I am sorry for hiding and allowing alcohol have me open up on the wrong side of the murky waters. I am sorry for having one too many sangrias (freaking silent killer, it's like effing venom!). I am also sorry for making you feel uncomfortable by telling you that you were out of my league. If I was in your situation, I would...well, I would tell me off and tell me how ridiculous I am.
However, you are very cute. I thought I should throw that in. In fact, your eyes mesmerize me. You are also very smart, funny, a gentleman, hospitable, and your vocabulary tantalized my mind because I didn't think Arab men had the ability to be articulate.
WHAT? I'm sure he'll never read this...and if he does, well then he does. That's life folks.
*********************************
See people, no one is perfect. In fact, I am far from it.
*********************************
From all this, what did I learn? I learned that white people are incognito in the form of Arabs, hornballs exist everywhere in all cultures (in fact, I knew this from before), Jesus lovers are attracted to what they cannot have, The Mistake is now on the "to do" list of life, and stalkers are much better when they don't know where you live. Also, I need to cool down with the lack of confidence. There is more that meets the eye. I'll admit, when one lacks confidence, it is a turn off. Although, so is over confidence. Really, conceited is the better terminology.
Not so lucky of a mat here.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
THE SETTLING SUITOR
The Suitor is the guy The Girl wants to avoid. The Suitor is the guy who's getting married to settle. The Suitor really has no clue to what he wants. He wants to find a wife, settle, please mommy and daddy, and continue with life as usual. The exception to the rule is the wife and the fact that bachelorhood is over. No more late nights, no more boozin', clubbin', dates with hot chicks from the bar, or random trips with the boys to Vegas; done. Over. No mas.
Why does The Girl need to avoid The Suitor that wants to settle? Well, because he wants to settle. That is it. The courtship is pretty traditional to The Settler (aka The Suitor). The Suitor has no idea that The Girl is somewhat a good human being. He sees her more as the person that will please his parents because he married her. No matter what, his parents see The Girl as the completion of The Suitor.
The Girl, who is oblivious to this, does not think that this is what The Suitor is looking for. That is, he is looking to settle. The Girl thinks that all his kind gestures to win her naive heart is a display of affection and a growing love that they will obtain at some point of their lives (and possibly lose). The Girl is planning parties to display her Suitor/Settler with a mirage of pre-wedding parties and The actual Debacle called The Wedding itself. Yes, The Debacle. She then has the talk about what to do after the wedding, the having sex part. The part where The Girl becomes The Woman.
It is The Debacle, The Wedding. It is a raunchy display of a potential divorce waiting to happen (at least a six out of ten chance in the U.S.). It is gaudy and pointless. I say, when my time comes, that we sign the papers that the leader of the cult/religion/whatever you call it says that shows God that we are in it for good and have sex till both our danger zones become black and blue. But noooooooo! Mommy and Daddy live miserably together, so we have to wait until the stupid white dress (that will soon become red after some little shit spills juice on it) is worn and taken off by The Suitor and The Suitor alone. And why would a virgin have sex with the dress on perverts? No, it would not become red from her vagina. Geez.
So, how does The Girl and The Suitor get to know one another without the sex? They don't. Instead, they feed each other a bunch of bullshit that makes both their dysfunctional lives look normal.
The Suitor: I graduated at BLAH BLAH BLAH with a BLAH in BLAH.
The Girl: Wow! I always wanted to do that. Instead, I graduated at BLAH BLAH BLAH with a BLAH in BLAH. I love BLAH BLAH BLAH'ing because I do it so well.
TS: Well I love to BLAH BLAH BLAH'ing, also! We're perfect for each other
Then when The Debacle is said and done for and becomes this:
TG: Where are you going? We had plans with unimportant acquaintances that we must show that we are happy to!
TS: I am going to BLAH BLAH BLAH
TG: You're probably cheating on me!
TS: I think you and (some friend met at the wedding because he crashed looking to settle with another Girl) are doing something!
My question is this: What happened to falling in love with a person who has respect for you, your ideals, your personality, and your quirks? What happened to love and lust at the same time? Why is settling such a trend now? Why am I even worried about this? Well, I have the answer to the last question. It's because I'm in my, what is now, late twenties and I'm a virgin waiting for The Debacle to occur so that my Settler and I are both black and blue once The Debacle is over.
However, I chose to date and meet people on my own (or maybe through the help of sites, shutup) and see where personality can take me. It turns out, The Suitor is incognito online. Freakin' invading my space in cyber hell. I'm screwed, and not the black and blue kind.
I still envy the lucky mat.
Why does The Girl need to avoid The Suitor that wants to settle? Well, because he wants to settle. That is it. The courtship is pretty traditional to The Settler (aka The Suitor). The Suitor has no idea that The Girl is somewhat a good human being. He sees her more as the person that will please his parents because he married her. No matter what, his parents see The Girl as the completion of The Suitor.
The Girl, who is oblivious to this, does not think that this is what The Suitor is looking for. That is, he is looking to settle. The Girl thinks that all his kind gestures to win her naive heart is a display of affection and a growing love that they will obtain at some point of their lives (and possibly lose). The Girl is planning parties to display her Suitor/Settler with a mirage of pre-wedding parties and The actual Debacle called The Wedding itself. Yes, The Debacle. She then has the talk about what to do after the wedding, the having sex part. The part where The Girl becomes The Woman.
It is The Debacle, The Wedding. It is a raunchy display of a potential divorce waiting to happen (at least a six out of ten chance in the U.S.). It is gaudy and pointless. I say, when my time comes, that we sign the papers that the leader of the cult/religion/whatever you call it says that shows God that we are in it for good and have sex till both our danger zones become black and blue. But noooooooo! Mommy and Daddy live miserably together, so we have to wait until the stupid white dress (that will soon become red after some little shit spills juice on it) is worn and taken off by The Suitor and The Suitor alone. And why would a virgin have sex with the dress on perverts? No, it would not become red from her vagina. Geez.
So, how does The Girl and The Suitor get to know one another without the sex? They don't. Instead, they feed each other a bunch of bullshit that makes both their dysfunctional lives look normal.
The Suitor: I graduated at BLAH BLAH BLAH with a BLAH in BLAH.
The Girl: Wow! I always wanted to do that. Instead, I graduated at BLAH BLAH BLAH with a BLAH in BLAH. I love BLAH BLAH BLAH'ing because I do it so well.
TS: Well I love to BLAH BLAH BLAH'ing, also! We're perfect for each other
Then when The Debacle is said and done for and becomes this:
TG: Where are you going? We had plans with unimportant acquaintances that we must show that we are happy to!
TS: I am going to BLAH BLAH BLAH
TG: You're probably cheating on me!
TS: I think you and
My question is this: What happened to falling in love with a person who has respect for you, your ideals, your personality, and your quirks? What happened to love and lust at the same time? Why is settling such a trend now? Why am I even worried about this? Well, I have the answer to the last question. It's because I'm in my, what is now, late twenties and I'm a virgin waiting for The Debacle to occur so that my Settler and I are both black and blue once The Debacle is over.
However, I chose to date and meet people on my own (or maybe through the help of sites, shutup) and see where personality can take me. It turns out, The Suitor is incognito online. Freakin' invading my space in cyber hell. I'm screwed, and not the black and blue kind.
I still envy the lucky mat.
THIS ONE
Let's start with This One. This One, I thought at the time, was The One. This One did weird things for me. He went to plays with me, he went out to eat with me, he talked to me endlessly on the phone, he told me his problems, he had me help him with his problems, he introduced me to his family, he met my family, and he was (at the time) The One. It was the plays. What man in his twenties volunteers himself to go to plays? OK, rephrase, what straight man volunteers himself to go to plays? This One did! This One knew that I had to go for class, and came with me! WHAT?!? I KNOW! I found a keeper! WOOHOO!
This One had a sense of humor. He made me laugh, and I made him laugh, which then made him jealous because I was funnier. However, he liked that. Huh? I don't know either. I showed him how to be more ambitious, and he showed me a bit more of my religion. Then shit hit the fan. I started being a bit more religious again because of This One. He was subconsciously teaching me ideals of Islam, then he would go gamble. Yes, a bit ironic. However, I thought to myself, This One is bringing me into his world. This One is going to make me a better person. This One is showing me NO AFFECTION whatsoever because he respects me! WOW! This One is The One! (Note: No affection means "No Affection". No hugs, no pecks on the cheek, no handshakes, no nothing. NO AFFECTION)
This One then stopped calling. This One did not give me a reason to why. He just stopped. I called a couple of times to try to figure out where I went wrong! ME! I CALLED THIS FOOL! (Yes, I yell quite a bit. In person, I am a bit on the animated side, also) This One gave no explanation. Then one day, he called and I answered. Yes I did. (SIGH) I thought he was The One because he came back. Fate had brought me back!
Well after This One played this game of calling and not calling months at a time, it was time that our three year stint should have come to an end. The relationship (or lack there of) was not the same. I trusted him less. I thought his religious take on life was a crock of shit, realizing that he loved Vegas and the boat a bit more than God himself.
I almost forgot the best part, the cheating part. Yes, I was the Other Woman. The One was not This One. This One has now realized that lies have short legs and you cannot get anywhere with a six foot torso with a three inch leg (no I'm not talking about a penis. Considering after he cheated and lied, it was probably an inch or so anyways). Oh yes, the courting of Other Women. It's really not fun to be the Other Woman to This One's Women and be This One's Other Woman to Other Women. It actually sucks. I thank This One for making me realize that I cannot really trust many folks now because of it. Not only I, the Other Woman, didn't know what he was up to. Other Women and This One's Woman had no reason to think anything was going on! How could I know? He was like Houdini with a disappearing act that I kept accepting!
Well, This One is now living happily whipped ever after with his life. I'm sure that he enjoys every minute being wrapped around a finger of a woman who probably lied to him just like he lied to This One's Woman, Other Women, and the Other Woman (which is me if you haven't gotten it by now).
This One, I thank you for not falling even harder in love with you. I thank whatever spirit is out there that you didn't take my cherries. Because if you did, it would probably dissolve in the cheap ass vodka that your ass is afraid to drink at the poker table because it is against the religion to drink.
Three years vested in a no affection relationship. If you're wondering where the losing the virginity part is in this story, it doesn't exist. Just in case you couldn't pick that up from the NO AFFECTION.
Lucky mat.
This One had a sense of humor. He made me laugh, and I made him laugh, which then made him jealous because I was funnier. However, he liked that. Huh? I don't know either. I showed him how to be more ambitious, and he showed me a bit more of my religion. Then shit hit the fan. I started being a bit more religious again because of This One. He was subconsciously teaching me ideals of Islam, then he would go gamble. Yes, a bit ironic. However, I thought to myself, This One is bringing me into his world. This One is going to make me a better person. This One is showing me NO AFFECTION whatsoever because he respects me! WOW! This One is The One! (Note: No affection means "No Affection". No hugs, no pecks on the cheek, no handshakes, no nothing. NO AFFECTION)
This One then stopped calling. This One did not give me a reason to why. He just stopped. I called a couple of times to try to figure out where I went wrong! ME! I CALLED THIS FOOL! (Yes, I yell quite a bit. In person, I am a bit on the animated side, also) This One gave no explanation. Then one day, he called and I answered. Yes I did. (SIGH) I thought he was The One because he came back. Fate had brought me back!
Well after This One played this game of calling and not calling months at a time, it was time that our three year stint should have come to an end. The relationship (or lack there of) was not the same. I trusted him less. I thought his religious take on life was a crock of shit, realizing that he loved Vegas and the boat a bit more than God himself.
I almost forgot the best part, the cheating part. Yes, I was the Other Woman. The One was not This One. This One has now realized that lies have short legs and you cannot get anywhere with a six foot torso with a three inch leg (no I'm not talking about a penis. Considering after he cheated and lied, it was probably an inch or so anyways). Oh yes, the courting of Other Women. It's really not fun to be the Other Woman to This One's Women and be This One's Other Woman to Other Women. It actually sucks. I thank This One for making me realize that I cannot really trust many folks now because of it. Not only I, the Other Woman, didn't know what he was up to. Other Women and This One's Woman had no reason to think anything was going on! How could I know? He was like Houdini with a disappearing act that I kept accepting!
Well, This One is now living happily whipped ever after with his life. I'm sure that he enjoys every minute being wrapped around a finger of a woman who probably lied to him just like he lied to This One's Woman, Other Women, and the Other Woman (which is me if you haven't gotten it by now).
This One, I thank you for not falling even harder in love with you. I thank whatever spirit is out there that you didn't take my cherries. Because if you did, it would probably dissolve in the cheap ass vodka that your ass is afraid to drink at the poker table because it is against the religion to drink.
Three years vested in a no affection relationship. If you're wondering where the losing the virginity part is in this story, it doesn't exist. Just in case you couldn't pick that up from the NO AFFECTION.
Lucky mat.
WHEN ON RIDE, PLEASE BE SURE NOT TO POP A THING
I am a 26 year old, outspoken, extrovert, educated, a professional, cultured, and a virgin. I am a virgin. How many 26 year old single women in Chicago can say that? Not very many. I like to call myself "moral" because of it, but it really has nothing to do with morals anymore. It is all personal. It was religion, and now it is not.
Being an Arab and Muslim is pretty hard nowadays. I used to have fear instilled in me every day from my family. Don't do this because fury fires will burn your vagina off, or something crazy like that will be told to me if I were to do something close to THINKING about sex. However, it is everywhere. Welcome to my world of horny cornucopia folks. Nothing but people injecting body parts into one another like heroin and not being part of the fun! BOOOO!
So, you may ask yourself, why are you 26 and a virgin? Well, again, I'm Muslim. It was instilled in my head that boys and sex are wrong. Then I grew up and found that it really isn't that bad. No, foreplay didn't give me that sense of thought. It was that the Arab society made everything seem so much worse than it already was. It became a religious standpoint when I was a teenager. Walking in high school, I would see pregnant teenagers and think to myself, "Wow, I'm not foolish like these girls because I'm good to God." After junior year, I sort of lost faith. It then became an issue of finding "The One".
The One is going to take to me to far away lands with flowers and cookies and kites and kiss me here and there and love me forever and ever. The One is going to be exactly what his name is, The One for me. The One is going to have my heart and soul. He is going to have every piece of me, including yes, my virginity. Well, you will learn that after This One, I realized that The One may not exist, but it doesn't hurt finding him. God really is not the reason anymore, nor is it the ridiculous tightly bound Arab culture in Chicago. It is the fear of me giving my grenadine to a dude that will no longer be in my life and the endless regret I will have thereafter. Yes, I called my virginity grenadine. I also have a sense of humor.
The welcome mat is currently laid on the floor for you. It is, by far, the only thing that gets more action then me. Considering that it is on its back 24 hours a day. So come on in and take a ride, just be sure not to pop anything on the way in. Stupid mat, I'm jealous of you. Lucky mat.
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