Archive for April, 2009
the big move home
One day during my Christmas trip to Lebanon, a switch went off in my head. I’d been living in Boston for the past three years, but this particular year had been especially hard. My job wasn’t going anywhere and I’d felt empty in other aspects of my life. I came home another person. A sad person. And this wasn’t who I am, or wanted to be.
A decision had been made. I was going to move back to Lebanon as soon as possible. I left with an optimistic outlook and comfort in the fact I was finally ready to do this. My parents had tried endlessly to convince me to move back, but I was determined to build my life here. Everyone holds this image of the USA as the place where you can make your dreams come true and where life is so much better. That was my doe-eyed expectation when I decided to live here too. The media and god-knows-who had promised me that living here would open palatial doors, and I’d attain a level of success that I never could in Lebanon. Looking back at this now, I’ve learned it’s not the place you are that will make you this, but YOU. Just look at Elie Saab and other successful Arabs. They started right at home and rose. I leave America disenchanted, and more Arab then when I was living in Lebanon.
Three years later and I’ve learned so so much.. I’ve learned to file taxes, how to buy a car, how to rent my own apartment, to pay tons and tons of bills (usually on time), change a tire, master the art of interview bs, and how to write my own graphic novel. I’ve become very independent and quite proud of it! My big brother’s been my best guide to American living – just ask him how clueless I was my first year. I also got to meet so many diverse people, and I got to know what I was really made of (surprised myself at times). I’d never felt such extreme freedom, yet extreme loneliness all at once. My greatest hope is that I continue to grow when I move back and keep my eyes on the bigger prize = happiness and a constant self-discovery.
fluttering butterflies
I’m thinking about you..
Although I know I shouldn’t.
What are we anyway?
It’s too soon to tell.
I hope the butterflies in my tummy
keep fluttering
when we finally meet.
The Betsey Johnson Show
Celebrating 20 years of fashion in Boston, the Betsey Johnson show at the Estate was an eclectic display of outrageous hairstyles, sexy-cute dresses and the dancing talents of one of models.
The show began inside-out – three of the models sat on the stage and had their hair done out in the open as their stylists bobbed and danced to the music. Each model must have had at least 4 hands managing her ‘do. One of the models wore a wreath of flowers on her head and did a beautiful modern ballet piece at the start.. Both events were very interesting twists to the typical runway show.
I’ve become an even bigger fan of Betsey Johnson after that night and admire the wit she infuses in her fashion. As we waited, one of her previous shows played on the screens and I loved how all the models in wedding dresses wore handcuffs. I found that incredibly cool! Although the crowd of (mostly) over-excited gay men and over-made-up girls got on my nerves – it was a very inspirational night. Some pictures I took that night:
Now, if only I could actually afford her dresses…
a glimmer
A glimmer of love
and you were stolen away.
Once in my arms
but never to hold.
A glimmer of hope.
A glimmer of excitement.
The kiss that started it
was the kiss that ended it.
I’m alone once more.
watching us from above
I lost a dear friend two weeks ago. He was only 22-years-old and how he died still baffles me till today. It’s just not fair. The doctors didn’t even know what was wrong with him until after he’d been put into a coma and was losing organ function!! In our day and age, how can the medical field leave so many question marks in the air?
After two weeks of hospital visits, not sleeping, crying and consoling, we’ve all started making steps to move on. His wife – and one of my best friends – is who I worry about most. She lost no only her husband, but her soul mate. I hope she’s holding strong in Lebanon.
[A small note to Alber]
Little things in Boston constantly remind me of you, Alber. I shall always remember you for the time the three of us used to spend together. I never minded being the third wheel because you and Farah always felt like family to me. You were more like a little brother than a friend.
Yesterday I was at the Natick Mall and had sushi at the place we all ate once. I haven’t eaten there since the last time we did. And till today, I cannot look at an ad for a watch without wondering what you would think of it. Your advice about my love life was always interesting and you approached life with a breezy non-chalant. There would be time for everything, your walk would say. No rush.
I’ll forever associate Boston with the memories you, Farah and I created. Thank you for coming into our lives and rest in peace dear friend. Hope you’re watching over us.
