Sometimes i wonder if i was born the right person?
Since i was born i had every opportunity a human being could ask for.. I had a loving well to do educated family who has always been there for me....
I had been sent to the best schools, it was instilled in me that anything but "A," is unacceptable.. I was a good student by any standards..
my grandfathers both started from dirt poor and made something out of themselves..
one of my grandpas started from not having shoes to wear in rainy days as a child to being one of the biggest patrons of art and literature.. He even married my grandma because of her family connection..
my other grandpa started off as an orphan and ended up traveling all over the world in his cargo ships..
my ideal jobs are Brista in a coffee shop, bar tender, assistant in the whole foods bakery, tour guide...
I have promised myself not to ever go back to cubesivlle.. even if it means i have to work minimum wage for the rest of my life..
I don't even like to own a car, i wish i could walk to all my destination and occasionally ride buses..
i prefer hostel to hotels..
i hate overachievers,and their success story.. i prefer to have cancer than spend time with those kinda people..
i have no future plans or ambitions..
sometimes i think i am taking up the space of that smart ambitious girl down in Afghanistan or Africa who has tons of dreams but is forced to get married at the age of 12 and has 4 kids and is widowed by the age of 27!!
Sometimes I wonder what would my hardworking grandpa said about me had he been alive?
sometimes i wish i wasn't born into ambition and success!!!

A most annoying misconception of the modern times has got to be that of acknowledgment. She is indeed a literary person, a total over-analyzer, herself being no exception to her first law of being : Facts must be identified, discussed and acknowledged. She has most definitively identified herself as a perfectionist, and she acknowledges her own annoying behavior. She fails to realize that acknowledgement does not in anyway justify her unreasonable expectations, or help her come across any less annoying for that matter.

Thinking of it, my boss (ab)uses the exact same technique. So did my mom when she didn't like who I was going out with at the time, makes me wonder if I do the same. I most certainly do : I acknowledge my miseries, then conveniently do nothing about them, as if they're supposed to vaporize once I talk about them; they never do.

I'm a filthy rich real estate investor in New York; At the moment I'm sipping on my scotch in the back seat of my limo, slightly buzzed, stuck in traffic on fifth avenue, watching a cheap drama on the tilted flat screen in front of me. I've been watching this movie for quite some time now, almost thirty years, but the limo doesn't move, and as pulp and pathetic as the plot is I still like to know how it all ends, so I keep watching...

It's about yet another average joe, average height, average weight, average eye color, average IQ, average income, average sense of humor, short hair, averaged out by his long nose. He too hates his job, he too thinks he's bored, he too feels ripped off, he too believes he's different. The plot, if any, is excruciatingly incoherent. It's sort of a reality show slash stand up comedy, only it's not funny. Think un-american idol with only one contestant who keeps qualifying due to lack of competition, think a kpbs special on jim smith : the nonachievement, demotivation and narcissism. The episodes resemble those of the twilight zone's, not related at all, yet consistently vague and ambiguous.

I sometimes wish I could have had his life, sometimes pitty the guy, sometimes stop watching him repeating his mistakes for the gizillionth time, no i don't, i can't, i just can't stop watching him. This last episode started on a thursday evening, supposedly after an eleven hour workday. He heads off to a bar to meet some people, a flashback from last week recalls he's told some guys he'll be there for the happy hour. Scotch on rocks, again, and again, and then it's the dark ale on tap marathon, british malt only, makes him feel intellectual. He'll be playing tennis at 6am, meeting with boss at 8am, a conference call at 10 and a support session at 2pm. Instead by 11:32pm he heads home, packs, calls his usual rebound, picks her up, leaves for vegas.

Now one might sense some spontaneity in his impromptu escape from his mundane dailiness, but the avid follower of this show knows better. Spontaneity conceptually holds only in contrast to a perfectly and precisely planned routine which would otherwise entail, and yet his life is anything but. Indecisiveness is often underestimated on its strong drive towards chaos, a particle of no momentum would join each and every flow with no resistance whatsoever, and so does he, goes with every single flow, every other way, be it a rank in a national test, be it an admission to some degree program he utterly despises, be it an impulsive urge to break free.

He wakes up in the next scene in his bed on a monday morning, sober for the first time in seventy two hours or so, takes a shower, heads for work, and stares at his monitor. An average few days and a few hundred bucks, an average weekend, average drinks, average sex, average seasoning on the steak. I sometimes hate the guy with my guts, I sometimes wish I could live his life for one day, I sometimes do, I sometimes don't, regardless, I can't stop watching, the scotch keeps me going, and the traffic never moves.

Today I found my Baby sister's diary, 9 years ago she wrote:
" Oh Eid How I cant wait for you to arrive. Everyday me and my friends in School count the days left...
And then you arrive, with You Aunt M and Aunt I arrive too.. Everyday we just go to someone's home have food, just talk and talk get bored to hell.. Doing nothing and learning nothing new..
Oh Eid How I love you and How I hate you.."

I have yet to talk to dad and wish him a happy New year, we missed the baby sis phone call today and I got to talk to the older sis before I went to class yesterday morning...
I talked to Aunt M and she said Toronto is damn cold.. Aunt A said L.A is nice
Aunt S is not answering the phone, we are worried.....
I too Love Eid, I too Hate Eid...
It's still about doing nothing...

Folks, Happy New Year.

Today I was extremely cranky, and while driving I noticed this car plate frame which said :" Jesus Loves You, Smile :) ( an actual happy face!)"
I was still cranky
So I went to this Greek food joint close to my home, ordered a falafel sandwich and Humus.. Sat down for a while just watched people.
Then ate the Greek food made by Mexicans
went to the Chinese Bakery, bought some cake and ate that too...
finally I was full and happy...
Happiness is the result of sufficient Glucose and Proteins and stuff... Not Love I suppose

...you know how you can supposedly only hate things that remind you of yourself, well I figured if I make a list of all the things I truly hate I'd have a somewhat clear idea about who I truly am. I used to hate celery but not anymore, so I must have been a celery and apparently I'm not anymore. I used to hate my boss, but then I found out he's lost his first wife when she gave birth to their second son, naturally I couldn't hate him anymore, so there I'm not my boss either. I used to hate sitcoms, and every single romantic comedy, but then I was told its all some freakin f'ed up defensive trick my mind plays on me supposedly after my lovelife went downhill the first time, of course I couldn't hate anything for long with such a pathetic reasoning...

I so wanted to hate my ex-roommate, or this other PhD candidate guy who married an imported virgin after sleeping with 80% of the female population, or my Electrical Circuits(II) prof from undergrad, or Mayonnaise, or corn bread, or J Lo, or at least that Basiji guy who beat the crap out of me some 15 years ago for literally no reason at all, but then they all managed to come clean when I put myself in their shoes; I mean I could have probably done/reacted similarly under their circumstances, so as much as I despise them all I can't truly hate any of them... even the Mayo.

After some time my list was full of crossed-out names and things. I can't truly hate anything : I'm truly nobody.

Not that I don't enjoy the attention, it's just that after four years of watching the same crowd from above you start wondering if you were ever down there, that high, that joyous, that young, jumping up, jumping down, head over heels, the heat, the sweat, the screams, the flesh.



And yet I'm treated as if I am the heart of it all, its heartbeat under my fingers. I click, they jump,I click, they scream, I click, I jump, I click, I scream. I don't know all the words anymore, at least not like they do, and still they look up to me from so far away. Every so often I feel another stranger on my side, sometimes a hug, sometimes a flash, sometimes a bottle on my lips, same alcohol, different colors, sometimes a pat on my shoulder, sometimes a stinking breath, sometimes a wet shirt, sometimes a soft body next to mine, sometimes a wild drunk crawling up my back, all reminding me that I'm physically there, if not mentally...

Sometimes I raise my head to find you, sometimes I feel like I just caught your eyes and I look back, sometimes I feel like you're watching me. You're never there, never watching me, never. Oh well, noone's there anymore, not you, not S., not Sh., not me.
We're all gone. We're all done.

This weekend I didnt do anything.... all I did was to forgive all the people who had made me angry recently...
And I won...
I even recieved two appologies...
today in Gym, I tried too hard.. we lost
The Asian guy stood in the back and recieved all the backs...
He even compensated for me...
I was running around court nervouse..even couldnt tell right or left.
He said nothing, just covered everything I couldnt get.. and with his racket guided me to the right serving spot..
At the end we lost 14-15
he was so quite and calm..
everybody came to him and shook hands with him :" Nice game man!!"
He won..

i still don't understand why people like me... i'm perplexed... i think i'm a figment of their imagination... i read words that my friends write me and i feel that they are talking about an alien from out of space... is that really me i ask myself?! how can it be?! very very strange... that i exist that is... cause i always thought i'm invisible... i must be a figment... a fig... ment... figment.

In Search of FEB 29

I was supposed to file my FAFSA ( which is something like free financial aid thing form...) before march, in order to be qualified for more loans and stuff...
YOu know finance my education..
Last night I noticed Februray only has 28 days..
And I was too busy to file that thing anyways..
Well I will be short like 50k next year I guess. Even if I move out of state to save on the living cost...
time for plan B I guess...
does anybody know if Warren Buffet is looking for a trophy wife?
I would've been happy with Larry Ellison too, but I heard he is an ass...
P.S: I have a cousin who was born on Feb 29th!!!
She just celeberates the whole week, to compensate lack of an actual B.DAY!!!
P.S1: I heard Georg Lucas is single.. not a huge Star Wars fan though...