a vein-bursting question

Alone, where a a king sized bed once stood, laid a king sized mattress. "Very comfortable." I thought, as I positioned myself on the mattress, facing the wall. The mattress covered in soft clean white sheets; looked new and hardly ever used.

The door of the semi-deserted room swung open, and entered my cousin, who's holding a diet coke can in one hand, and a glass full of ice in the other "What are you doing?" she asked.

"I found this IPod station stuck between the wall and the mattress."

"Well, that's an odd storing place."

"It's not a storing place..it probably doesn't work."

"Well, I have my IPod, and you can plug it in right there..lets see if it was stored, or if it lost it's way to the bin and somehow ended up between a wall and a mattress in a room almost never used."

"Ok, Let's see.." I plugged it in, placed the IPod and it worked!

"What do you know.. It works!"

"That really is an odd place to store an IPod station.."

"Yeah..haha" I turned around, and asked "So? Who's the can and who's the glass?"

"Excuse me? I'm not sharing."

"Come on.."

Fine..You're the can."

So.. a comfortable mattress, music in the background, and coke. What else is missing?
Conversation! We went on talking about school, university applications, driving license, weddings, etc..etc..Until we came to the question that is the highlight -­or at least supposed to be the highlight- of this entry.

"So Nella? What's the best thing that's ever happened to you?"

I answered without putting much thought into it. It doesn't need much thought anyway, I already knew what's the best thing that has ever happened to me. "my mom."

She looked like she heard an answer to a totally different question; her facial expression was a mixture of shock and suspicion.
I was waiting for her to blurt out a "what?" but instead, she blurted out something I wasn't expecting at all.. a "why?"

Now I wasn't sure if I should feel offended by that question, `cause lets be honest here..It does seem a little offending if someone asked you why you consider your mother the best thing that has ever happened to you, specially if said with that tone.

Well I dunno, skipping the 9 months of pregnancy, the several hours of excruciating labor, the 2 years of some serious breast feeding, and all the things almost all mothers go through.
Maybe because she makes the best Bechamel? (Speaking of Bechamel, I noticed that everyone I know whose mother cooks bechamel says their mother's is the best. personally, I've had many mom-made bechamels throughout the years, and they were all good; they all had a special flavor. I guess it's that special flavor we consider the best, the nostalgic familiar flavor of home)

Maybe because she is the smartest woman I've ever known? The reasons are endless, and obviously biased!
The harder I tried to put them all in an answer -­an answer I felt was good enough to justify why I think she's the best thing that has ever happened to me- the faster they slipped away. I was boiling inside, not only because of my inability to properly answer the damn question, but because of the damn question itself. "why?"

For a moment there, a semi-bald, short, fat Italian guy in his mid-forties, appeared in my head and furiously asked "what the **** is wrong with my Ma Huh? FIGLIO DI MIGNOTTA! VAFFANCULO! CAFONE!" (Translation: You son of a *****! go **** yourself! ***hole!)

Anyhow, this whole thing makes me think, is it because we take mothers for granted that it seems weird to think of them as the best thing that has ever happened to us? "You know..Mothers are supposed to be there for us, they don't happen!" Or is it because of how she sees her own mother?

Well, to cut it short, being the easily led to self-doubt person I am, I started wondering, Does it have to be something else? I tried rephrasing that question in my head so many times, I tried looking at it from different angles, but I kept getting the same answer; My mother.

Finally, I answered. "Well, because, she is the best thing that has ever happened to me!" I couldn't have answered any other way. And to avoid any other vein-bursting questions, I fired back the same question "what's the best thing that has ever happened to you?"

But before she could answer, the door opened and a voice called "Nella? Yallah 7abeebi, We're going home.. it's late."
I was a little disappointed I didn't get the chance to give her a taste of her own medicine, but I had to go, the best thing that has ever happened to me was waiting for me by the door. And as soon as I saw her smiling face, I thought: maybe it's because she just stopped me from offending someone who probably didn't even mean to offend me? Well, I guess it's safe to say that, my mother was the best thing that happened to my cousin that night.

Nella Says: Frogs are perverted? *

How do you miss a voice you’ve never heard before? A face you’ve never seen before? Or a conversation you never really had? Even though it feels like you have at least a million times.
You know, nothing gets my thoughts going better than being cut off from everyone.. (Well, almost..)
Loneliness and anxiety is what I call enemies with benefits. Along the many visits they seem to be frequently making lately..I noticed my brain activity increase. with all these thoughts, and ideas running in my head. I’ve also noticed that I use my brain much more when I’m in a desperate need for ‘vitamin P’.
Wait.. Does that mean that when I’m deliriously happy, my I.Q drops? Hmm.. ’cause if it does, it explains a lot!

It’s probably because I become so emotionally worn out to the point that my heart announces it’s time he takes a vacation from all the crap I keep getting him into. Leaving all the work to my brain for a few days.. (or weeks, depends) which isn’t bad at all really. I actually like the only-brains Nella better to be honest.

Oh yeah..Almost forgot!
Ramadhan Kareem everyone! =D

Not that anyone reads this blog anymore, But I just can’t give up on this place..Not yet anyway.
A few years ago, I came to realize that I love talking to myself..guess it’s ‘cause I’m a very good listener (funny I said that..My family still believes that I’m not much a daydreamer as much as I’m partly deaf. they even had me go through an ear surgery back when I was a kid, just to make sure I’m not really partly deaf, which was obviously unsuccessful?) Besides, who understands you better than yourself? I usually turn to myself when the road gets a little bumpy.. and writing instead of talking to myself out loud (even though I do that sometimes too) seems like the more sane way of holding a somehow interesting (or maybe not) conversation between me, myself and I.

Anyhow, speaking of Ramadhan, This is probably the first Ramadhan I felt very very unready for. It came so suddenly this year..like the year skipped a few months thinking it’s time we have Ramadhan visit us again. a holy visit I’ve always looked forward to, with the exception of this one time. Because for the first time in my life; I’m spending it all alone. I really wish no one welcomes Ramadhan alone. specially if you don’t know how to warp a samboosa (even though you’ve genuinely tried at least a thousand times throughout the years, till you’ve ruined half of the wraps and your mom decides it’s time you stir the soup instead) It’s not a nice feeling, but if you ever had to..Well, you’ll live.

It comes fast and leaves just as fast. I can’t believe we’re moving on to Day 13 in a another umm..16 hours? Now I know it’s a little early to talk about this, but, doesn’t it feel weird when you wake up on Eid.. and someone downstairs calls you for breakfast? The Idea of having breakfast seems so strange! (but you get over it real quick once you have a glass of water). I think I’ve said it every Eid so far haha “Hey! Guess what! We can drink water! In the MORNING!” One of the many stupid things I refuse to stop saying (or doing) on Eid. Stupid things I can now proudly announce are officially on the ‘are you worthy of becoming an Eid Ritual?’ waiting list, In hope of becoming the new nice little Eid ritual. Alongside Oud, Insomnia, stealing Chocolate (even though we can just go and get some from the living room now, but it’s not as fun as getting it from the men’s side..mission impossible style lol) and the ‘lets-go-check out- the-guys-from-the-second-floor’s-window-as-they-bring-out-the-Shuwa’ gaze haha!

At any rate, I’ve talked about Eid a million times in here..and as tempting as it is for me to give the famous “Nella’s Eid Speech” ( I’m already half way through it anyway..i think) it would be unfair of me to make you go through the damn thing every single Eid.. I’m not that mean. =)

moving on..

A few days ago, I was fortunate -or perhaps unfortunate- to find out (to my utter astonishment) that some people are stupid enough to not realize that actions have consequences. It’s beyond their comprehension to understand That you can’t clip a bird’s wings, lock it up in a cage all it’s life, and then one day, decide to open the window for it, assuming it’ll fly like any other bird who’s been soaring the skies for years.
Likewise, You can’t raise a child unexposed to life, inexperienced, and completely dependent on you. Clipping his wings by constantly telling him he’s a good for nothing nobody, and then one day, take off the leash, and expect him to lead a normal independent successful life, like the rest of the normal folks out there. For god’s sake! Even the lucky ones (who’ll somehow manage to come out of this with a little bit of confidence intact) won’t lead a normal life.. at least not immediately!

And I know this has nothing to do with anything, but I hate infatuation... (I like the sound of the word though) I hate it’s guts! Not only do I immerse myself into the person I’m infatuated with.. But I somehow start to sound like them..Be interested in what they’re interested in, etc, etc.. (Unconsciously of course). And it freaks -the hell- outta me! Every time! I often find myself wondering: “Am I going to suffer from this syndrome for the rest of my life?”
They should have pills for infatuation! It’s dangerous! Some people lose their identities! And I can’t really imagine something worse than losing the person you are and becoming a not very well copied copy of somebody else. (note: a little exaggeration might've occured in this paragraph)

Not like it’s incurable or anything..I mean, I survived them all. I eventually get myself out of it, but by then it would’ve consumed me to the point that I can’t return to the Nella I was before.

It’s Evil! It’s evil with a little tiny halo floating somewhere above it’s head. Because when you become so infatuated with someone, so infatuated to the point that you start to sound like them, look at things through their eyes, and share their views and interests.. You learn new things. It comes with the territory I guess. You submerge into this person, and their interests become your new interests, and you learn..

If he is into cars, you become a car expert. If he is into books, you become a bookworm (major bookworm f you were already a bookworm, like myself). If he is into Movies, you become a movie fanatic. And if he is into Nail Polish and all things pretty….well, you move on faster than you thought you would.

I’m not sure if it’s to impress them, or if it’s psychological.. But I know that every time I’m infatuated, i hear a voice in my head saying: oh girl, you’re in deep shit!

And one more thing, I don’t think that recalling silly jokes or hilarious incidents, or even looking through your memory archive for that tape you had recorded of your sister falling on her bum in public and playing it in slow motion is sad! If it makes you laugh just as much as you laughed before, then you go ahead and reminisce! Even if you happen to be in a waiting hall full of people, and suddenly start laughing hysterically. Note: from personal experience, once you realize you’re actually laughing like an idiot in front of all these people..You’ll most probably find yourself unable to stop laughing (which is also good to recall and crack up on in some other waiting hall haha..I hate waiting halls/rooms. Specially when you don’t have anyone to kill time with, and they’re no decent magazines to read.)

Out of Nella’s Book of “Kitchen Adventures/Disasters”

My parents and my older sister had to go away for a day while I was home ‘super-vacationing’. and being the second person in charge (and the superb Chef I am).. I took the liberty of making dinner.. and came up with a “white sauce and cheese pasta with a pinch of turmeric” recipe. But after everyone (including my grandma, who qualifies as the pickiest person alive) had (with the help of divine powers) ate, I had to change the name of the recipe to “turmeric with a pinch of white sauce and cheese pasta”.

You see, I accidentally poured half of the turmeric jar into the white sauce. You can imagine how yellow and turmeric-y it became. I honestly believe that I made the yellowiest, turmeric-iest dish in culinary history. Thank god my parents came back with a lot of Pizza leftover that night.. (I also think that was with the help of divine powers)

Word of the week.. “Viet-fuckin’-nam!”

Guess this entry makes up for the almost 3 months long time in which I didn’t blog, lol!
Is it obvious (from the length) that I miss blogging? ‘Cause if it isn’t..I really do miss blogging. =)

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* I recently heard an Omani joke about a perverted frog. I would’ve told you the joke, but it’s really really nasty. Well, the joke is basically about a smartass frog who wants the lion to bring him bitches lol (the longer ‘Omani’ version is a lot funnier I promise you).
Anyhow, I found myself thinking about the fairytale frogs, and when you think about it, frogs really are perverted. From the frog who was drooling all over Thumbelina, to the ‘prince’ frog who had to be kissed to transform. Kissed? Seriously..