cold wind, hot soup

September 19, 2010

It’s the fall already.

It seems only yesterday the summer started and I was looking forward to all the picnics and lazy afternoons.

Whatever happened to those lazy afternoons?

Summer flashed by me, mocking me having so much work and so little time for it’s warm invite. The sun slithered teasingly in my room every sunrise, teasing me with it’s rays, and laughed at me while departing at sunset, making misfortunate shapes on my wall. Another warm summer day gone, and no leaving this wretched room.

And now it’s the fall. Cold and crisp. And I miss home. The sun and the dust and the hotness of it all. I want to go home and I want to sweat in the sun, like I always worry I shouldn’t. This thing, the desire to stay clean and smelling like Comfort and Chanel, has to be squashed and spitted on. Live, I say, live! And sweat.

Then shower of course.

It is the luxury of being single. The stupid luxuries. I don’t have to wax my legs, or keep my feet as soft as a baby’s ass. I am very much a living gorilla right now, and I so enjoy it. Not long ago when it was still sunny, I was having a jog in the park, and I sat on the grass afterwards. The sun was playing beautiful colour tricks and I was in awe.. I looked at my arms, and how the sun was reflected on the hair on them, pure magic. I don’t understand why I have to strip them bare when they look so beautiful hairy. Silly tradition, silly culture, silly feminine rules.

Soup.

Sure does warm your heart, and insides. I am getting over a cold. And it is so funny.. I thought it could be hey fever, and not a cold. And then I realized I wasn’t craving cigarettes. My mother always said she hates smoking when she catches a cold. And then I had it, sheer truth, I have a cold, and I am definitely becoming more and more like my mother everyday.

It is almost as though I am in a preparation period. I have changed so much in the years I lived in London. And yet somehow I always plan my life in Kuwait, as though I need to validate these changes by embedding them in my “normal” life. If I go back home, and I am the same undergraduate I used to be years ago, then nothing has really changed.

I can’t ever truly live the way I want in Kuwait though, and this has nothing to do with limitations of the culture (although that is also a problem). I can’t because of the heat, and lack of green. I will miss the pleasant weather (won’t miss the rain). I will miss having a park to sit in close by no matter where I go. And I will miss preparing my own meals and having so much alone time to think and work.

I will not, however, miss being without my family. They are what I miss the most. In fact if they were here, I probably would miss Kuwait much less than I do.

Such vanity, these blogs.

I can write this in a diary, but there is something about seeing it on a screen. I suppose I shall delete all those personal entries at one point. But not today. Today I treat myself to a cup of hot leek and potato soup, and some vanity.

Utter Horror

May 17, 2010

I miss home.
It’s been years for me here and I really oh-so-do miss home.
However…

I realize that going back home means being once again the only child of two very loving (and controlling) miracle-making parents. I say miracle-making because they may be the last couple I know who are still going strong after over 20 years of marriage.. Which means, of course, that they are kind enough to be there to control my every move when I go back home.

I have not gone too wild, I must confess, in my long stay in the city of broken rooftops and ugly poodles. I have not done drugs and I have not tasted a non-virgin drink (although had the pleasure of tasting a non-virgin woman, I must admit). However, even if my wild days were not too wild, I will miss the freedom and being my own boss. Something silly like keeping my dishes in the sink overnight. Yes,  mother, it is your utter horror here, my life. No one to watch me not separating my whites and colors while doing laundry, and no one to remind me that having breakfast comes before a smoke.

I miss home.

But I will miss having my very own home even more.

So I’m guessing a few more years is not a bad thing after all ­čśÇ

…is it’s fucking cold.

Looking forward to…

April 29, 2010

White hotel sheets and poached eggs in the morning. Long walks and shopping sprees in the noons. Chocolate treats and photographs in the afternoons. The twinkle in your eyes under the city lights in the evenings. And your softness at night.

Who says reality is never better than dreams?

One more time I want to have that boat for us. (elsha5toora).To sing for you and me. Mawjoo3 bejroo7 elhawa shu byenfa3o? Mawjoo3 ma be2ool 3alli byoja3o wet3n 3abalo layali elwaldani, ya 6ayr…. One more time I want to have you, all mine, before he takes you away.

I remembered something today… The first time you said you loved me… It was a text message.. I was sitting on his sofa, in his house.. It was his birthday… 2003..

And now he takes you away.

Looking forward to seeing you a bride…
Looking forward to seeing you happy, glowing, even if for someone else.. I want to be there for you, make sure you’re okay, make sure you don’t worry too much and remind you not to frown on…
Looking forward to holding your babies… A baby that lived inside of you… A miracle that I am already in love with! Your children, will they look like you? Will he let you name one after me the way you said you wanted, always, when we said we’d babysit each other’s children?

I am looking forward to all of this. Isn’t it enough that you’ll be in it?
I will not be sad but I will be in pain. I deserve you. And I’m not sure how I lost you in the first place. Way too soon.

Memories are not enough.

I tweet

April 27, 2010

therefore I am (not so much).

https://twitter.com/cruxine

Yes, I finally gave in.

The on-going headache

April 26, 2010

So today my supervisor at uni finally liked the idea for my project. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a pleasant smile on that face… It really did make my day except for this headache I have that doesn’t seem to want to go away.

Apart from that, I have to hand in a 2500 words project proposal by friday, which I haven’t started writing yet. Good thing the ideas/words are all crammed in my head, I just hope 4 days is enough time to put them on paper. And on Saturday I’ll be flying – enshallah – for a short holiday coz God knows I need one. I am home sick and need a change of scenery, with disregard to the fact that I’m flying even further away from home – enshallah if volcanos decide it’s time to be civil.

There’s this bug in my room that I can’t seem to get rid of. It keeps flying in front of me, flaunting its speed and taunting my bad aim. I thought fruit flies only lived for a day. Ok, I just remembered that I have an over-ripened banana on my shelf while typing this.. This must be why the fly won’t leave. Idiot!

If every time I get a headache I think I’m dying, does that mean I’m watching too much grey’s anatomy/house md? Or does it simply mean I have too much free time and occupy it by fussing?

My life lacks a penis

April 22, 2010

She was upset.

I said: “I wish I was marrying you.”

She said: “I would marry you for free.”

She was very upset.┬áBut she’s just made me happy for days to come.

So now all I need to do is be re-born with a penis.