But, you can't fall in love alone... [The Polygamy Post]

TLC's "Sister Wives," the story of modern American Plural Marriage

It premiered in late fall, maybe even winter, of 2010. It immediately picked up steam as one of the hottest nights on cable television for pushing boundaries of societal norms and expectations. It went were, as average Americans, knew yet so comfortably ignored. It is TLC's "Sister Wives," the inside story of polygamy in modern day America.

As a Muslim I grew up probably more aware of polygamy than I would argue the average 20-something American is. Experience meant nothing however as I, along with my faithful Sunday night TV buddy, Carly, tuned in to TLC's Sister Wives. Words can not accurately express the emotions from happiness to sorrow that filled my soul every time the credits began to role. We gasped and even questioned along with millions of other viewers episode after episode at the Sister Wives and their surprisingly normal lifestyle. By the end of the season it seemed as though more often than not I found myself forgetting they were different.

HBO's"Big Love"

The season ended with a (spoiler alert): new wife being added to the dynamic and one wife contemplating the possibility of an exit. Left w/o a Sunday night show to watch I looked into alternative television programming about polygamy to find a gem, HBO's Big Love. The parallels between the scripted version and the TLC reality version are unreal. There I was again along for episode after episode of polygamy. The difference however was that because Big Love is scripted I felt more at ease with fully judging the characters. This was until of course I realized there was a part of me that wanted to be one.

This sudden urge to become a sister wife myself could be logically assigned to a many number of factors: my age, my location, the weather (icepocalypse), the date, Beiber, etc. But, I say that beneath all the "OMGWTHHOW?!WHY" of both Sister Wives & Big Love there is a certain level of undeniable humanity that I crave. Despite their jealous tendencies, uncontrollable tantrums over nightly arrangements, and soccer practices galore I like the companionship, rush and commotion of the lifestyle that polygamy seems to create. I think of it like a sibling relationship who knows what your family is going through better than your siblings who also grew up in the same family w/the same issues?

Again, this is all nothing more than an over exaggerated thought process as I frequently tend to wish I was living someone else's life, --even if they do share their husband on a rotational basis with me. As I watched the final episode of the season and the constant running/hiding the women had to go through just to be in this life I realized polygamy is more than likely not the lifestyle for me. The companionship just wouldn't amount, in my opinion, to the sleepless nights and possible weight gain from stress acquired by the whole ordeal. Still, a girl can dream can't she?

No regrets, Just love....

My life is too much of the "I can't sleep" and not enough of the "don't ever look back." Or for that matter not enough of any of the Teenage Dream.




Feeling like you need the lyrics to appreciate the full experience? Teenage Dream/Just the way you are

Sunday Snippets # 3- Who'd have known where this was going when you said, 'hi.'?

"He loves me...he loves me not."

There's a couple, who've clearly been drinking, arguing outside my window.It's cold so they've got to be pretty dedicated to this argument. I just heard him scoff at her. Apparently lil missy is very 'friendly' with a swig or two of liquid courage pulsing through her veins. He made them leave the party early because she "couldn't keep her hands to herself." He thinks she's lying when she says "I love you." So she shouts, "If you don't believe me, just put your hands on me." He's drunk and thinks the alcohol is just making her really horny. But, arguments can sober a person up really quickly. I know what she means when she says, "just put your hands on me." She knows love can only be felt. Maybe love really is blind.

Further Reasons Why I Want Children: To Exploit Them Via Youtbe

Maybe Kanye (West) was on to something...




Now this lil mama damn near puts Beyonce to shame. Ironically enough I have to 'recreate' the Single Ladies dance for a Henna/Bridal shower this weekend. fun



But, I refuse to wear a leotard. Refuse.

When A Heart Breaks, It Don't Break Even

Boom went the thunder and lighting and ring went then phone. I lay still on the twin size bed as his sister clinched my hand tighter, afraid the tornado would take her away. Boom went the thunder and clinch went her fist, grasping at my skin, barely asleep, yet, wide awake. Crash went the wind slamming against the window pane and ring went the phone. The house, the weather, the family finally lay still, ring went the phone, "Yes, I love you" went him.

Love is in the air, the very air that I breathe. It's the very air that hung so heavy last night, sinking in deeper, knowing that after I heard love, I found hate. Many would assume that love is a positive thing but, love like change, requires both now and then. The then to this story is me. It's less the physical representation of me and more the mental. I am Muslim. He is Muslim. But, she isn't. So he loves what isn't me. He loves her, she who isn't Muslim, she who shouldn't be.

For centuries, culture has played a tug of war with those of ambition. Those souls who dare to think, or rather, love outside of the box. Think of the Boleyean girls daring to marry up for power, wealth, and status. Think of Princess Diana and her Egyptian boyfriend, or perhaps more recently with Kobe Bryant and his Caucasian girl wonder. Think of those who joined in union because of love but, divided communities, families, and lives because of the hate the union brought on. Think of Pochantos and John Smith, the tale of a man who wasn't afraid to show his parents what he loves, who he loves. Now think of yourself and what role you play into all of this.

A great friend of mine, Ms. Latifa, a Muslim slam-poet, from Atlanta, Georgia receives high acclaim for her poem 'My 9/11 story.' My favorite poem however is entitled, 'Plan B', in it she writes, "honestly, I didn't think you would marry me. Maybe Aliyah, or Zakiah, but at the community picnic the other day you introduced me to your new wife, Tamika." The poem continues, telling the story of a girl enraged by the pattern of Muslim men dating outside of their religion. And while in Islam such a merger is allowable, I, too, am enraged.

You see unlike marrying outside of color, or culture, in a community where religion is life, it's hard explaining why your best friends' brother lay awake at 2am, in damn near tears, over a Catholic girl from Indiana. My beef isn't with her as a person, she's nice, polite, quaint but, in many ways she's everything I'm not. At the end of the day she isn't Muslim. She doesn't hold the same beliefs, values, customs, as we do. And while it may seem that I'm jealous, I'm more disappointed than anything. Because within the Islamic community there are plenty of nice,polite, quaint, girls but, he chose her.

As Ms.Latifa so boldly states, "And this is not about her, its about the fact that you could of had any muslimah, any Zakiya, any Alliyah, but instead of you trying to keep our community intact, you want to start from scratch." I'm sick of these non-muslim chicks who don't know the struggle but, are getting all the perks, when we have been putting in all the work. How can we build our ummah if your wife is going to church? Some might say but, 'there are so many other Muslim men to choose from, why do you need him' but, in all honesty there isn't. And now we're one less.

Ms.Latifah continues, making the point that perhaps the Muslim men seek such women, because us, Muslim women, serve as a reminder, and they just don't want to be reminded. She doesn't know that verse in the Quran when you are wrong, but you know that I will find it. So, as one of those reminders, just let me remind you how much it hurts. It's not like marrying outside of color, or culture, it's religion. And it's more than acceptable as the Prophet Muhammd (saws) married a Christan women, as well as a Jewish one. And for him I can see why, he was an example that it is allowable for Muslim men to marry any woman of the monotheistic religions, conditionally speaking. If he hadn't done such, and it wasn't allowable it would provide grounds for further segregation and divisions, which is not Islam. But what about all the other Muslim men, the non-examples, the ones who insist on "starting from scratch?" What about those just like my friends brother who had every oppurtunity to create a Muslim family but, decided to leave yet another Muslim sister without a husband instead? And, I don't mean for us to sound like charity cases, or dependat upon the Muslim brothers that don't deserve us, I mean the men, not the boys. To the men let me be the one to ask why?

Boom went the rain and down fell my hopes of him not being with her.

Waffles,Egg Hunts, & Wet Dreams: The Ultimate FMyLife Tale

Confession of The Month:

Time to rack up some points in the Russian Roulette game I call Get into heaven/avoid hell., which of course requires being nice to people, picking up trash, easting my veggies and the like.The only problem is that I fail at games, my attention span is never long enough for Monopoly and every time I have won it's because I've cheated. So in the game of life does this mean I fail or does this mean that the only way to survive is to cheat? I tried exhibiting some good karma this weekend but, all I learned is that life seems alot easier as a Christian.
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The good news is that I had a safe and fairly uneventful trip home this weekend. The bad news is that I came home to siblings that aren't even my own. Remember the Griffin's Egg-citing Egg-travaganza? In case you are blessed enough to have forgotten or can't tell by the title, their family is a bit too "egg-cited" about the notion of Easter. There youngest daughter is a parrot, mimicking every phrase of Easter agitation ever created. This Spring she graced us with her renditions of "Peter Cotton Tail". I too thought Peter was cute hopping down the --whatever it is that he hops down but, after singing the song 150+ times Morgan forgot the words. Most people who forget the words either hum or lowly mumble through the forgotten part but, not Morgan. Morgan blares out different variations, all with the same tune but, with very apparently wrong lyrics. Or perhaps the song really does go "Here comes mummy bunny fail, jumping down the egg trail, hippity hop and Christmas's on it's way!"

--Now play that back about 30 more times, with the sound of an 8yr old. Cute? I think not. Besides Peter looks like a pedophile to me. Then there was the Griffin's middle child, Danny. Ever notice how bad children have names that have a bite to them? Luckily for me, God answered my prayers and Danny had chicken poxes! I know think of my luck. Then think about how contagious chicken poxes are. *sigh* Because her other children haven't been exposed to chicken pox and the annual Spring Easter Olympiad just "had to occur" guess who's mother offered her daughter, the 'elementary teacher', to be of services as the Griffin's Weekend long "Nanny." I wouldn't have minded watching the Griffin's and the Cutter's children for about 12 hours but I wouldn't be surprised if one of them ends up prego in the next say 1-3 months.

Saturday I took the children put-putting and then out for ice-cream before I delivered them home. That was my personal way of 'repaying' my delightful neighbors for the 'gems' of children. But, when I took Morgan next door I noticed the fire engine red Mustang convertible in the driveway. Geoff. Geoff is the Griffins' eldest son. He's 24 and apparently going to become "something" in life. Really? Because in my experiences if your name is Jeff but spelled 'Geoff', like the freagin Toy's R' Us giraffe, the only thing you're going to become is a failure. Geoff is however a fortunate looking young man with an unfortunate case of DBMW (douche-bag-man-whore). Why pretell didn't he watch his siblings during his religious holiday? Because the neighborhood is conspiring against me.

At 16 we moved in next to the Griffin's but Geoff didn't realize this until the summer after I hit puberty. Now he thinks me "exotic" and "feisty." Feisty, is what he calls all females that loathe his very presence. Ah, yes nothing like a visit home to suburbia to remind you that you're still unwed and a little more than useless.
But Sunday I volunteered to take the kids to Mass. Why? Simple :

• Escape meaningless conversation with Geoff, he avoids the Church like it's the black plague
• I got paid.--I later found out the parents gave the children the $ to give to me. (2 lost it and one donated to Geoff)
• It's Easter and I was feeling generous.

Not being Catholic however, I was unaware the parking headache that is Easter Sunday in the Catholic church. Some might aliken it to the Muslim equivalent to Eid-al-Fitr. Bascially, everyone you haven't seen for the past 6-8 months or the last major holiday--whichever comes first--is there. Wasted? Unshowered? Not Catholic? No problem! Because that Church was at least 150 people OVER fire-hazard capacity which also meant no seats. So there I stood Hijab, plaid summer dress, and Chanel shades at a service not my own, in a place of worship not my own, celebrating a religious holiday not my own, with about 5 kid who were not my own when suddenly I got a whiff of an odor not my own.

The child in the seat in front of us had fallen asleep and urinated. Then this conversation ensued.

Child #1:"Oh Ms.A eeewww. He's wet!"

Child#2: "He's having a wet dream."

Child #3:"No no no. That's not how wet dreams happen. They come from your ears."

Of course all of this happened in Church, during silent prayer and needless to say we weren't too quite. Before the giggles got any squeaker, whispers got any louder, and glances got any more obvious I decided it was time for us to go. We arrived home and the main reason why I had volunteered (to escape the community-wide egg hunt) was STILL going on. Apparently Jake's Nanny, who was left behind(it was her day off) misunderstood Geoff when he said "oh yes, that Griffin's single." In case you missed it Geoff speaks in third person as most morons do. The Nanny however mistook Geoff's ignorance to mean his father was single. The nanny began hunting alot more than eggs, if you know what I mean and a huge fight ensued. But this is the 'burbs and so no crack or weapons were involved. But, Rx meds and pacifiers were flying left and right...or at least left.

Annoyed by the days activity and feeling the need to shower I avoided the front door, opting at an attempted break in to my own house instead. But, suddenly a heavy sense of guilt and moral obligation overcame me. This isn't what Easter's about. Whatever happened to setting a good example or learning self-control and patience? So, I backed away from the sun room window, doing the right thing and round up the kiddies to finish the "Where my peeps at?" section of the Easter Olympiad. The fact that as I jimmed the lock into the kitchen I heard the words "50$" and "Best-Buy gift card" may or may not have influenced this sudden epiphany.

As Geoff would say, "In the end it's not how many eggs you collected on Easter but "how many eggs you fertilized."

Friday Fragments// Jum'uah Jottings #6 - She's Always Buzzing Like Neon, Who Knows How Long She Can Go Before She Burns Out?

Doubt. Doubt's a word I've struggled with for a long time. "Raised" by two attorneys I quickly learned that in order to believe with certainty, one must begin with doubting. My problem however isn't doubting, my problem it forgetting not to blame. First I doubt my ability and then I blame myself for incapacity's. A man is not honest simply because he hasn't had the opportunity to steal, so am I really a better person today than I was yesterday simply because, it's no longer yesterday?

No. I want to change and am eager to grow but, I must keep in mind the power of limitations and boundaries. Change requires both now and then. Everything has it's maximum and much like my step-monsters credit limit, I'm about to max out. So before I hit that mark let us adapt my mothers wisdom "The difference between genius and stupidity is that genius has its limits." I know my limits, what are yours?


Friday Fragments//Jumuah Jottings #5

Today, I was walking out of a Starbucks and saw someone walking out behind me, thinking it would be the nice thing to do I held the door open. I was holding the door for about 30 seconds before realizing I was holding the door for my own shadow.

- FMyLife

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Anyone else heard of the Walk of Shame kit? First, let me explain that here (at the #6 party school) the walk of shame or walk a female takes after a one-night stand is quite popular. In fact, best friends and future in-laws are made it's so common, which is also quite sad. Anyways, some genius/creeper designed an entire kit to aid when the walk away from his place. When asked why he did it he said, "I'm just tired of chicks waking up and taking my shirts cause they lost theirs." --Now that ladies and gents is a true blue citizen. Get him an award!



Included:Dress - Flip flops - Backpack - Sunglasses - Pre-Pasted toothbrush-Wipes - Call/Don’t Call leave behind note card - Awareness bracelet
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Over Heard Moments in Ptexan's Life:

Girl on cell: Do you think it’s suspicious that I just bought five bottles of cranberry juice? People drink cranberry juice without vodka all the time…right?-- uh yeah in AA they do

Male coworker: My lips are still recovering from Vegas. --Glad I skipped Cabo

Guy #1: I know how to get your kid back, easy! I'll just put a bag of crack in your mom's car and call the cops and say "there is this old lady with a bag of crack and a baby in her car!" (laughs)
Girl: That would be so cool.

(Do we really wanna waste a bag of crack though?)

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This week in Science class I was teaching the Rugrats about conscious Vs. unconsciousness decisions the body makes.

I told them that your brain can have a conscious override over breathing. However, it is hard to stop breathing intentionally. Then a student in the back yelled "Oh, ya! That's why it's so hard to drown people!"

uh, what the ...what!?
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Lent's almost over and I finally get to eat Oreos. But, will I want them?

More than anything I just don't want to get invited to the Griffin's for the Egg-citing Egg-travaganza. The Griffins are our prude neighbors that are always elaborating on how I need to get married, and be a housewhore..err wife.

Do you know people who think they're above everyone else and have awful children?! I want to encage her middle son. I swear she must have dropped him as a baby. Any suggestions?

[Actual photo]

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The class took a field trip to the zoo this week. Question: Why did a parent offer to chaperon and drive with a license and vehicle that weren't his? Also, since when did the zoo become such a scandalous trip?

The sad part is I'm not even the one who realized what it resembles.He was 9.

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Word of the Week

FriendTM
function- Noun/Verb

When a friend low on cash (the paper kind) pays the group's bill on their debit card in order to get the cash from their friends--therefore avoiding both the ATM surcharge and the inconvenience of finding one.

Hey guys, can I FriendTM this? I don't have any cash.

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Remember when the 'ex-bestie' was discussing the value of v-day and relationships? Yeah, I found a gift he gave me almost 2 years ago for valentines day. I never opened it. I was too afraid I would love it. My mom says it's not the gift I'm afraid of loving. The gift and my heart remain unopened.



P.S. I think we should give 'him' a nickname. Any suggestions?
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For those of you who are fan's of my eldest brothers' increasing ignorance. Get aload of his AIM status. "K***** is Barack in '08. Broke in'09."
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The ex-fiance used to call me Bay. I hate pet names that make no sense. I tried explaining that a bay was a portion of water. He replied "Don't worry you're filled with liquid too"-- Word to the wise, if your potential partner gives you a crappy nickname/pet name it's not meant to be.

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Anyone else know about the wonders of K-Pop (Korean pop)? I didn't. I'm not hip with the kiddies these days. Apparently, behaving as though you from a culture that isn't yours/dancing/ singing in a different cultures' language is the new thing.

I had to let lil Susy know, I'm well aware of what a Cha Cha is--considering I'm HISPANIC- same for belly dancing. Then, I had to explain to Jane, in 6th grade, that she has NO clue what Super Junior is singing in their Korean song--except for the part where she was singing in English (lol).

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Useless information I learn as a Marriage and Family Relationship therapist

1.)In Hong Kong, a betrayed wife is legally allowed to kill her adulterous husband, but may only do so with her bare hands.

2.)85% of men who die of heart attacks during intercourse, are found to have been cheating on their wives.

3.)Women who read romance novels have sex twice as often as those who don’t.
-- uh Mrs.Cullens ;)

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Random Text of The Week//Where Do I Find these People?

"Hey PT-- if you stop by El Bistro can you grab my purse, I forgot it."

-- turns out my genuis of a friend was pissed at the waiter and so dined-and-dashed. Then she forgot her purse, with her wallet, and photo I.D.

:|

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Welp, I'm off to class, work, and home for Easter. Yes-- these will most assuredly result in lots of blogging tales. Best to everyone and have a productive/safe and blessed weekend!

Friday Fragments//Jumuah Jottings Post # 5- I'm Not a Princess, This Ain't a Fairytale

Despite popular myth much of reality is false. And when an angry client graced me with his cold shoulder because I wouldn't 'massage his pain' I realized I was wrong.

Now I'm not saying I should've stretched him as his actual personal trainer would have but, I could have mentally soothed his pain. Too often in my life I bandage mistakes and ignore bruised egos pulsing forward till the end. But, it was in that moment that I realized I wasn't living at all, I was functioning, coping, surviving. But, for what? Shit, you've only got one life to live...unless you're a kitty. And, I'm no pussy, and this is no fairytale. It's Friday and I'm alive, finally.


Friday Fragments//Jumuah Jottings #5

Whenever my sister (16) calls customer service reps about random complaints she usually gets her way. Then of course they turn on her and start trying to sucker her into 'NEW and IMPROVED' offers. It's beyond amusing because instead of just hanging up like normal people she begins screaming "I believe in Jesus! I believe in Jesus! (pause) Sir, my other line is ringing and it might be God. I have to go."

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Did anyone else hear about Johnny Depp converting to Islam? I say it's true and not just because I'm the one to marry him. Personally I’ve always thought that Johnny Depp and Hamza Yusuf had an uncanny resemblance. Fine, don't believe me.


Read the full story here.
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Over Heard Moments in Ptexan's Life:

Hipster teen:Are you pissing on that building?
Rich teen with faux fur coat:Welcome to the recession, buddy!

Hobo with cup of change in hand: You have any change?
College kid: Sorry, I don't have any money.
Hobo: Get a fucking job, you bum.
College kid: Fuck you! You first!
Hobo: I'm working right now, asshole.

Hot Physics Lab Instructor: "There's a little bit of failure in everyone."-- some people deserved to be hurt.
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Did You Know?!

• The only place in the universe where a flag flies all day, never goes up or comes down, never flies half-mast and does not get saluted, is the moon.
• Halle Berry’s stunt double, in the movie “Catwoman”, is a man.
• The mother of the boy Michael Jackson is accused of abusing is named 'Janet Jackson'.

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Today, a 7 year old girl randomly came up to me and told me to fuck myself. I told her to watch her language or else I'd tell her parents. Her mom happened to be nearby and actually heard this conversation, she came up to me and told me to fuck myself as well.

-FMyLife

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Sometimes I wonder what the hell I was thinking becoming a marriage and family relationships therapist. One should never begin there mornings at 10am overhearing:


Grey-haired grandma to another: "Of course, it was worse for him because she left to become a lesbian. (pause) And you can't help thinking of all that licking."

woah...at least I can't.

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Word of the Week

VOCD-"Volume Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder"
Function: Noun

A psycho-neurotic disorder in which the television viewer is beset with obsessions or compulsions or both to adjust the volume on the television to a "perfect" number, such as 15, 20, 25, etc. and suffers extreme anxiety or depression through failure to adjust the volume or witnessing an "imperfect" number (9, 16, 31).

Joe has VOCD bad it's worse than Christina Bales anger issues.


(thanks to my bff Zahra for having such strong OCD)
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The almost not-so-boss-boss asked me out to lunch on Saturday. It's not a date type of asking out though. I told him I couldn't because I didn't speak the language of cheesy pick up lines.


Then he said "So uhh..because I'm trying to make a deposit you just lost interest?"

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I absolutely loath tea and anyone who knows me knows I avidly collect satchels from all over the world. Like coffee, a good cup of tea is all in the brewing and steeping. Steep it too long and it tastes bitter; too short and you’re drinking muddy hot water. TeaCubes make it easy by placing the tea bag on a timed retractable spool. Hands free and a good cup of tea. What more could a tea lover ask for!


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One of the kids in my 4th grade had a birthday this week. I don't exactly conduce in class partys
but, her family's not so well off and she deserves something. So we had cupcakes and sparkling fruit juice. One of the boys slammed down the plastic cup exclaiming, "hey they bought the cheap stuff!" No kid we didn't, you're just used to the real stuff.

(for those of you who didn't understand he's been getting a bit tipsy before recess)
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(click image for larger view)

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Ron Paul has no alarm clock, but instead wakes every morning to the call of freedom.

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Remember the in class party? (above)

Yeah, we handed out cards. When James gave his card to Kylie he said, "I bought this card in the ghetto supermarket , that's why it smells like dead chicken."

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Does anyone ever stop to wonder why it's taking them so long to do a task? Sometimes it takes me about 20 mins just to put shoes on, no lie. Perhaps Youtube is decreasing my intelligence.

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Useless information I learn as a Marriage and Family Relationship therapist

1.)A man's beard grows fastest when he anticipates sex - That explains almost every Muslim I've ever met.

2.)Sex is the safest tranquilizer in the world. It is 10x more effective than Valium.

3.The first couple to be shown in bed together on prime time television were Fred and Wilma Flintstone.

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D- Bag of the Week

my doctor

For those say 2 of you who care about my weight endeavors I bitched the doctor out about lent to which he said "Don't blame Jesus for your fat lil missy." Apparently obesity is one sin He won't take credit for :|

Apparently my cortisol(a stress hormone) levels are so high they could build a staircase to the moon. Doctor says even if I tried starving myself or working out for hours upon hours the fat won't budge. The ONLY way to loose the 24+ lbs is by de-stressing. Yeah, hearing that stressed me out.

Give Me Something To Believe In Beacuse I Don't Belive In You Anymore...

Confession of The Month:

I think I've fallen. Oh yes, it was soft, sweet and so gentle I barely saw it coming. In fact, I didn't see it coming. The worst part of it all is that neither did he. Or perhaps he did and part of him wanted me to be left trapped falling in his loving gravity. And as often as I claim I fall I would be proud to fall for such a dimpled brunette. Yes, he's prefect. He'll fit in great with the family, especially considering he's already part of it.
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So there you have it I, Ms.PerplxinTexan, on March 19th of the year 2009 fell for her cousin. I know, I know 'how could you!?'. But, I instead ask how couldn't I? He's such a smart ass, and yes plays the guitar.But, before we get into all the blaming and gasping let us backtrack to the beginning. It's the night before we leave for D.C. and when I head to pick mom up from work; she dances right into the car barely whispering 'so we aren't going'. Now I'm sure at least half of you are thinking 'well damn that sucks, I mean you only rearranged you're entire life to go on a trip with your mother you didn't ever actually want to go on.' But, it doesn't suck. This is to be expected. This is what my mother does. I wouldn't be surprised if she had never actually booked any plane tickets.

In the same 'oh I kinda effed up your spring break' breathe she sighed out 'so they're coming here!' How mother is this exciting? You know I hate being seen in public with these things you produced known as my siblings and now you've gone and stepped it up by introducing cousins to the mix. What ever happened to breaks where I get to sleep all day? Can't I go back to being worthless? Of course she replied with, "Why of course not, you've got to clean the house and make tea". FYI- I'm allergic to tea. Ok, maybe I'm not but, I refuse to drink it and become all domesticated and refined.The night before the whole gang arrived for 'quality times of amusement' my mother announces (again in passing) to pack our bags we're visiting their house. Uh, WHAT!? We couldn't' go to their house, so they came to our house just for us to pack about 150 miles BACK to their house?!Fmylife.

Apparently the wretched economy doesn't impact everyone and my Uncle invested in another house. This house happens to be in a small neighborhood in Ohio which had an extensive amount of furniture missing. I asked where it went to which my aunt answered 'oh, darling you expect too much'. But, is it really expecting too much for you guys to have furniture?!

Out of the 3 bathrooms 1 is full stocked, out of the 5 bedrooms 2.5 are actually furnished, and in some parts of the house there isn't even electricity. The 6'0 ft creature of crisp golden honey skin comes down the stairs to instruct me to 'stop looking for furniture, the thieves aren't coming back'. This is my family's way of joking. Apparently they only bought this house because it has a pool. Everything else is a facade. Yes, even the people.

They made us go camping in the backyard because apparently it's cute. I left once I found out the 6 yr. old twins weren't potty-trained or wearing protection. The eldest cousin, 23, said I could stay in his room.-- mind you now this room was literally a room. He brought in a stack of Uno cards, Oreos, and John Mayer Cds. He said he couldn't swing the new Twilight DVD but, to 'have fun'. I asked him to stay awhile and 'just be.' He asked why I was forever so mysteriously enticing. I thought it weird my cousin just semi-hit on me but, let it slide for the sake of the Uno.The next 2 nights we spent basically memorizing each other.

I learned things I shouldn't have like the family's Farsi trends. My Aunt and uncle always speak in Farsi when they don't want us to know something. He's been listening in since 5, he knows everything. I told him about how I considered pricing myself on Ebay just to see how much I'd go for. He challenged me to a dance to the lamest of ignorant Miley Cyrus songs (Hoedown Throwdown), he showed me a picture that a girl sent him one time in hopes that it would catch his eye and he'd propose. She had a grill, and it was purple and lit up. I nearly died laughing.

I told him I blog, he said so does he. We sat quietly wondering if we've ever bumped into each other in cyberspace. Suddenly he grabbed my arm and said to follow him. His 'room' had a small crawl space-like attic with a piano, couch, and guitar. I knew better than to let him play so I instead offered. I played about a minute of Adele's First Love. I played until the 'I'm the only one in love' line when he nudged me aside and played Matt Nathanson's "Come on Get Higher". I stopped breathing when he sang "Just hold me down hard and drown me in love." As though he could hear everyone of my thoughts he stopped. He didn't dare look at me for I was the forbidden fruit.

Or so I thought.

Our mothers walked in like a gang of cackling hyenas. "Aren't you two cute!?" his mother gushed at me. Whatever. I crawled out of the confined space before I needed some serious CPR. His mother spoke in a Farsi-Arabic blend towards my mother. From what I understood, I got 'lucky they'll never work out'. Was this her way of saying I would make an unfit match for her son!? Well excuse the hell outta me for NOT having a neon-glow-in-the-dark grill. I spoke no more than 12 words until the next afternoon when we headed home.

That's when it happened.

He drove with me to pick up some on the road snacks from CVS. He let me rant about how selfish my mother was, how she was going to destroy me via cupcakes and hadiths. He laughed, I tried not to smile but, failed. The way home however, we resisted talking at all. Then he asked if he 'apologized would it matter?'. I had no clue what this was supposed to mean and in a sudden fit of oral diarrhea blurted out the 'lucky they'll never work out' comment and told him I don't have time for games. We would never be anything but, two people existing. Immediately ashamed I lowered my head and looked out the window. We arrived in silence, my family left for home soon after. We never said good bye.

About an hour outside of my suburban haven my mother asked what I said this time. I told her about what my aunt and the whole shabang. She laughed. She kept laughing. Then she explained that 'sometimes you don't have to say everything'. What my aunt whispered in Farsi was for my protection. It means "Lucky they aren't actually matches." In English that roughly translates to "lucky they aren't actual cousins."

I'll Stop The World & Melt With You...

The problem with community and mandatory family activities is that not only do they interpret the regularly scheduled programming that is, my life but, they also aim to ruin my life. My mother swears she told me about the 'Spring Community Picnic' before she forced me to go but, I know this is false. Because if she had told me about the picnic I would have created an elaborately in depth scene of illness in which I had an incurable/undiagnosed version of chicken poxes which prevents me from attending anything with the words family and community in the same phrase.

But, she didn't tell me about it and I assure you it was intentional. She didn't tell me because she knew he would be there. He is 3mu Ahmed, my 'uncle' --who actually isn't my uncle but, a meddling neighbor, who is forever eager to engage in unnecessary conversations geared towards getting me hitched and teaching me what 'real women act like.' Yes, he was sent here to destroy me.

It's a brisk 68 degrees outside. The sun is high but, not scorching and the grill is blaring in the wind. There's hamburgers, shawarma, hot dogs, and even emanpadas cooking away. The women are gossiping, as expected. The kids are terrorizing each other and it took the brothers 2 1/2 hours to set up a volleyball and badminton net but, only took them 5 minutes to arrange cars and trash cans for soccer goals. I put on my Welchs smile and gave my hugs/kisses/salams to more 'aunts' and 'uncles'. Thankfully we arrived an hour late; right as the food was ready but, he was still there.I look past him doing the 'I see you but will act like I don't ' glare then pattered off to the opposite end of the 'park'. I headed to play Volleyball with who I knew to be his visiting nephew (aged 16), his youngest son, and about 3 others. I tucked in my shades and asked, 'if girls can play to.' The strikingly attractive nephew answered me yes but, I heard him ask his cousin (in Arabic) if he knew who I was. Logan answered telling him(in Arabic) that I spoke Arabic.

I looked at the nephew, smiled, and prepared to embarrass him. I contemplated not embarrassing him but, my mad V-balling abilities & competitive nature wouldn't let me. Sucks for him. I was thirsty and started walking away. The nephew yelled "oh, quitting already?" I instructed him "Good thing you've got looks, cause you def. ain't got no game!"Yup, my game is legit and my trash talking is better. A sandy-haired, hazel-eyed, guy walks by and says "Never threaten girls with arms like hers." He glanced my way and flirted a smile. I was initially crepped by the fact that he had obviously been watching me but, was unnecessarily flattered at the same time. My sister acted as my brain and shouted towards him "That's not all those hands are good for!" Too bad she meant something non-overtly sexual.

He walked under the pavilion and immediately greeted 3mu Ahmed. Damn! Just my luck the one reason I would have actually wanted to come just willing hugged the #1 reason why I didn't want to come. I sat down next to my mother, my aunt (who actually isn't my aunt either), and my sister. My non-aunt-aunt smiles her so-lets-talk-about-when-your-gonna-start-making-babies-smile. I already knew this was bad news but before I could fake another chicken pox epidemic she bashfully glances over never Logan. It took me a moment to realize that she was insinuating that I should look into the prospect of her nephew. I place my watermelon down and inform her that I might have robbed his attention but, I'm not into robbing the cradle. The boy is what 16?! I asked how very old she actually thought I was. She said 15-17. First of all, 15-17 is not one age. Second of all, I don't think any boy aged 16 is ready to fully support a family involving me. 3mu Ahmed overhears my witty remark and feels so inclined to 'offer advice'.

The problem with Muslim men giving advice is that usually it's in blended English and references events that actually have nothing to do with their actual point. Somewhere in between 3mu Ahmed attempting at introducing me to the older of the two nephews he started talking to me about how "proper wives" let their husbands watch Law and Order. Apparently last night my no-so-aunt-aunt wouldn't let him watch the episode because she feared he would have nightmares....AWK-ward. [Insert F My Life here.]

I informed 3mu Ahmed that "proper wives" know how to please their husbands while maintaining their self dignity, and please God all the while.

He asked:" So you will not wear heels and look good?
Me: "Well, I tend to look good anyways but, I think heels could have their purpose."
Him: "Burpose like what?"
Me:" Uh..I don't know, slamming down the pedal and driving to Wendy's for dinner."

He had a huge fuss about women not knowing what a kitchen was made for and burning biryianni/Cous cous. I let him know that I don't do biryanni. I can eat it; but no biryanni cooking would happen on my behalf. The older, gorgeous, nephew let out a chuckle and said, "sounds like my kinda proper wife." I said, "a proper wife knows how to use all of her available resources, including Wendy's." While I may cook well that's not my entire worth. Besides, if I should end up in a Law & Order type episode I'll need a good alibi. "@ 10pm, Oh I was at Wendy's last night, drive-thru, all on tape" works wonders. And then, they'll search my trash and find the remnants and I won't go to jail.

So you see 3mu Ahmed a "proper wife" saved her husband from prison, put dinner on the table, and caught an episode of Law & Order all in a pair of heels. I ended my argument stating that while he might have had nightmares last night, to some man out there (that isn't 16) I am his dream (waiting to) come true.

Be Soft, Be Sweet, But, Darling Be Discret.

Confession of The Month:

It's 3 am on Sunday when he looks up, smiling, and strumming the chords to 'A Whole New World' when I realize for the past two weeks I've been flirting with a married man. What's worse is that after he finishes, he stares contently into my Auburn-Grey rimmed eyes to say 'sometimes, I'm amazed by you,'

.................................................................................................................................................................

A long and semi-unnecessary story precedes why and how I ended up at 'guy's night'. I assure you it's ridiculous and will probably never happen again. From the very beginning I failed to understand why Maria wanted us girls at guy's night. But, I told myself we wouldn't stay too long and considering the fact that the only guy I was remotely interested was not only visiting but, engaged, there would be no pressure. The first night we went over I only stayed until 1:30 am, I say only because the following nights were just unacceptable. I didn't bake, dance, or try any other cheap shots at getting his or anyone's attention. I was there in support of my friends.But, then he opened up his case and pulled out his guitar.



He's not too attractive but, when he sings he let's my heart on fire. Then just like that god-forsaken Taylor Swift song I thought, "Romeo take me somewhere we could be alone;" my spine straightened and cheeks flushed a hue of crimson. Thankfully, this didn't happen but, for the next 36 hours we spent an indescribable and far too temptingly intimate distance to one another. My personal shaytan whispered how the ring on his finger wasn't a marriage it was an engagement. About 5 hours later she whispered again, besides rings don't make marriages.

His dimples are far too enticing.

By this time half of you are probably think, "yeah...but did anything happen!?" And, the short answer is, no. We didn't touch, make babies, or anything super scandalous like that. But, we did feel each other. I don't know how to explain it but, like I've said before you don't have to touch in order to feel. As a young Muslim girl I shouldn't have even been in such an environment especially, given the circumstance. A woman's intuition never fails. My intuition is telling me that his weak week long engagement will last, with a troublesome, if not impending failure of a marriage. But, that's none of my business. What kind of marriage counselor intentionally ruins marriages, just because she can!?

In fact, what kind of person sends signals of seduction luring her prey just to watch him crumble? I'm not even into him, and yet I invested hours into making him feel comfortable enough to trust my temptation over his fiances love. Luckily he's gone home now and back to his loving fiance who doesn't know the otherwise. It happened too fast. We were all but, too close, too close for comfort.Part of me feels immensely guilty but, an even bigger part of me is proud of the fact that I could accomplish such a task in a matter of 2 and 1/2 days with 12 hours of sleep, Rockband, Wild Blueberry Muffins, a futon, and a guitar.


Geez, why's it always gotta start with a guitar?

When a man tells you that he got rich through hard work, ask him: 'Whose?'

Thanksgiving Day Part I

It's 4:45 am. It's amazing how perfect strangers impact the person you are both today and tomorrow.I stand in line at Khol's watching the man in khakis lay on the ground. Then there's an 8 month pregnant chick being smashed into the sliding glass doors. Over and Over and Over again. Then there's that 35ish yr. old man who suffered a severe head trauma after being trampled by angry 'bargain shoppers'. I wonder if he could buy back his life if they had killed him. Or maybe a bit of self-conscious dignity would be buy-one-get-one 50% off. Funny how the mob has several heads yet no brain. I was angered for a had no new shoes, then I met a man who had new legs. And appreciation is something that only comes with loss.

The 3 of us arrived at Saxs that morning in Jessie's 2006 Land Rover. We are dressed in Uggs and designer jeans. It's not about the labels though. It's about the meaning they carry. For me, Uggs are like walking on clouds. They are a comfort. Jessie values the fact that her parents can afford them. They are a symbol of status. And for Zahra her Uggs mean accomplishment. She earned the right to wear them. They are only a reflection of her inward sense of accomplishment.
We giggled our way past the cascading doors and by the man in the red suit. He was a tall man but of medium build and rings a bell for a living. His job is simple; raise funds. Proceeds benefit the Salvation Army & Riley's Hospital for Children. It really is a good cause, but I didn't give a dime.

He bothers me and won't stop watching my expressions. He sees something in me that I don't see in myself. I wish I knew what it is. I grow nauseous glaring at his sign which reads "Need has NO season. Now is the time." Here I was about to drop an easy 300$ within an hour but, I couldn't stop for 1 second to donate 1$, to a dieing child. I was sliding my card for a new iTouch when a tear escaped my eye. Temptation was killing me. But, ignorance would be the death of me. I knew better. Zahra squeezed my hand tightly, almost breaking my circulation and silently walks me out of the store. "I couldn't stand it either" she whispered. I put a 50$ bill in the mans red bucket and a 10$ bill in his pocket.

The world went still. He was proud. He looks at me, "you know sunshine, If you really want to know what god thinks of money, just look at the people he gave it to." The sudden need to vomit disappeared. The temptation to overindulge subsided. We left the mall in the same shoes, same clothes that we arrived. We just sported different labels.

Thanksgiving Day Part II

Way back when me and "Mr.Hopeful" still had a possibility of being together and getting married he said something that really bothered me. He said, "even if you leave and are happy I'll still have a part of you." He meant it in a semi-enduring manner, a - oh yeah well if you leave i'll still love you- type tone. The only problem is now it's become the truth. I haven't spoken to him in about 9 months, I mean we speak but, we don't talk. You see when people say "Hey how are you?" They don't really want to know how you are. It's a common courtesy to check- ya know just in case. The thing is somewhere along the lines of me maturing, challenging my own ideals and discovering self, he lost his. He's fallen into habits like you wouldn't believe.

Before we left his place his mother asked him to go into the kitchen and fitch something. Because he couldn't find it he got in her face and called her a "dumb fu*k", and no unfortunately he didn't stop there. And she, well, she just took it. We left his family's headed for mine and the brilliant Thanksgiving spread which awaited us. We dropped him off at a friends house. He stole an unwanted hug and waved g'bye. She glared at me like she knew me. But, after the whole ordeal on Black Friday I was in NO mood to be labeled. Sarah's the latest fling on his list of things 'to do'. She's a small brunette too tall for her weight and more conniving than most give her credit for. [See post here] She's found a way to capture his attention for now and I'm ok with that. In fact, I'm thinking, I'm the only one "Ok" with it. I do not believe anyone wants them to be happy, not even themselves.

Anyways-Me, his mom, and sisters sat in the black Camry heat on high, windows rolled low. My bangs escaped my scarf and fluttered into my blushed face. The music was blaring the mood was soft, exact. Then his mom swiftly glances back and says "you know this is all your fault" She wasn't angry she just seemed so certain, matter of fact. 'This whole thing, with her-Sarah. It's your fault.' My fault?


Even now the words haunt me.

Yours Is The First Face I've Ever Seen. I Must've Been Blind Before Thee....

Eid Mubarak!

Gag me with a shoe....Why dot Muslim women seem to think they know whats better for you than you do for yourself? Apparently Ramadan ending+ Me in heels= Halal hookup at Eid salaht. I mean we only just exited a month of purifying intentions and checking motives.What offended me most was not my khalto's* offer to 'introduce' me to her nephew. What offended me most is that she said I was 'good enough for him'. Thank you? Uh, sorry but since when did love come with a package of terms and conditions? More importantly when did I waiver away my rights? Maybe when I was way younger I didn't read the fine print my parents forever warned against and now must suffer my eternal fate.

Maybe.

Height,weight, color/race,religion, account balance, location, age, siblings, lifestyle. So many factors, so little time. I'm no Bella Swan, I need a commitment. One thing I AM sure of about my future husband (if any at all) is that he will be mine, and I will love him like the world is ending. I refuse to allow her simple factors and preferences to dominate my life. So as she moves to smile and peck a kiss on each of my perfectly blushed cheeks I say 'Thanks for your offer to rule my life but, I think I'll pass....besides, I want inter-racial babies.'