famished for meaning

i love how a lot of my virtual friends know me so well. ali nailed it on my old blog with a comment about how my relationship prevents me from thinking out loud online, the way i used to. and that is practically all i spoke about: love, relationships, marriage along with some bitching about paki men (which i SO can’t do anymore!), religion and bushy boy.

i’ve lost my anger and steam.

i need more than words.

i am feeling increasingly sick of the lack of action - baron is out there, marching for what he believes in while i am still trying to figure out what i believe in.

i asked the boy today whether he knew what he wanted and he said yes.

i envied him so much because what i want changes everyday. i have a new plan almost every day and a new desire almost every day. i decide to get married one day, decide that i could NEVER do that the next day, make plans to move out and then realize i love mommy and daddy too much. i think about going off to afghanistan (i have become obsessed with the place) to fight for womens rights there, then figure i must take my trip to thailand first or buy my car.

and nothing changes.

i never act on any of it.

from the outside, i look like such a stable person, with jobs and men that i stick to for years. internally, i fight everything everyday; i hate stability as much as i love it. i fear change more than anything yet i crave it.

the boy often hates the way i am because of my new plans every day which i never follow through with. i told him that it sucks to be me because its even worse - i am the one doing all this thinking, while not following through with it.

indecisiveness is such a bitch.

i know i am childish in my desire to be ‘different’ - i am such a cliche - i don’t want to end up like everyone else but i will; i already have.

my friend just gave birth to a baby and sent me pictures. i was horrified looking at it because it represented so much responsibility and change of lifestyle. i’d die if that THING was mine and i had to wake up in the middle of the night to take care of it and change its diapers and allow it to suck my tits.

eww.

fucking hell, i really thought i’d be more grown up by 27. i have acquired most of the symbols - job, gym membership, travel plans, about to buy my first car, etc but i really don’t know if i want it. i know its all necessary though.

you know, this sort of a whiny, incoherent post belongs on the old blog, which by the way (if i don’t change my mind AGAIN), will be going live soon. i no longer give a shit if the whole world knows who i am - i can’t be one of the anonymous fuckers on the internet, writing strong opinions and words that they are too afraid to stand by.

so yeah, this is my update - same ol’ crap.

also, in other random news, i encourage everyone (except ali) to buy this poster.

and in even more random news, michael jackson hired out a water park in dubai (he invited lots of parents and children to join in the fun) and roamed around in a white lycra body suit.

scary shit.

the days leading up to my birthday were horrible. everyone around me was acting retarded and suspicious. i was convinced that i would end up having the worst one ever - yes, even worse than last year when the psycho ex girlfriend of the boy i was dating turned up at his house at 4 a.m. and broke everything in his house!

i was thinking about just sitting at home and sleeping it off but i wasn’t allowed to. one of my friends sent me this e-mail after i whined about how i did not want to do anything, about how i wanted to be left alone:

yes, whether you like it or not, kicking and screaming, you have to be dragged through the whole getting older thing. Actually let me remind you why we celebrate. Yes i have to bring in the apes, jungle, genetics…i know you love the arguments. Its to celebrate the fact that you have managed to reach a luscious delectable age of 27, escaped natural calamities, typhoons and stuff, dreadful wild animals ( i don’t mean the male variety of our species) who might have had you for dinner…or in your case should i say a snack. So fuck the typical response of ‘oh my gawd i want to be a pre-pubescent with a pea for a brain’ and go out and have fun. Celebrate!!

i love this girl!

so anyway, the boyfriend knew that i wasn’t interested in going to a stupid club and being surrounded by strangers so he threw a surprise party for me - which wasn’t such a big surprise because everyone had been acting SO weird that day that i knew something was up. but it was BRILLIANT because a lot of friends were there and the boy took care of every single detail, down to the kinda music i like, my favourite cake, the helium balloons, confetti, alcohol and FIREWORKS!!

unfuckingbelievable.

and the next day, i was treated to flowers, lunch, a massage at some place and a spa treatment!

and the day AFTER, when i had thought that it was all over, he gave me my gift:

an iPod!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

and a playboy bunny mug:)!

i am completely impressed by the boyfriend who has by now more than made up for his suspicious and retarded behaviour of last week (which i could not have dealt with, without the extremely wise kristie’s advice - thanks, babe).

however, the boy has some major competition because i am falling in love with the iPod…although i actually had SO much trouble installing it and getting it to work that i am actually NOT that impressed with my first experience with an apple product (sorry baron, i know you’re a mac man).

plus, i got a TON of wishes from everyone i know in my city, everyone from back home and everyone online!!

so basically, i’d say that this has to be the best birthday EVER - turning 27 and becoming a budhee* isn’t so bad when you’re surrounded by such awesome people and so much love!

*old woman

i read a fantastic book (the kite runner) over the weekend…i actually had to skip work on saturday, because i didn’t sleep till seven in the morning - it was one of those books that i couldn’t put down.

immediately after, i looked up reviews of it online. i was slightly depressed to read the criticism, a lot of which was admittedly well-deserved: “contrived”, “implausible plot turns”, “cliched”, “whiny, pathetic hero”, etc. and of course, the timing - shortly on the heels of the war on afghanistan, a touching story about an afghani boy is told. charming.

i still loved it though.

there are few things comparable to being absorbed completely in someone else’s world, via visuals or words. selfishly, it helps us forget or mimizes our problems, for the problems worthy of being communicated through film and books are often far bigger than a bad hair day or a job one hates.

the book revolved around two childhood friends and one’s desperation to earn his father’s love and approval. he was willing to go to any length for it, and he did. and he got what he wanted but it didn’t feel as good as it should have, because of the cost he paid for it.

i think almost everyone can relate to wanting to make the parents feel proud, happy and make them love us.

i think i am still doing it.

i realized, with quite a shock last night, that almost all of my desire to settle down had to do with the look i imagined on my parents faces, on hearing the news. while quite unlike most paki parents, they haven’t paired me off with someone yet, nor tried to arrange any marriage, i know that it is right there…they want to see their kids ’settled’ before the end of their lives. and while i don’t really want to marry, nor believe that it could last forever (for me), sometimes, i know that i would do it, simply to please them.

so much in my life revolves around pleasing them…

i am still living with them, primarily because of that hurt look i’ll get if i tell them i am moving out.

i have started to chase huge commissions and paychecks, only to ensure that my parents never have to worry about money, as they grow older. i want to see them taking vacations, buying their dream cars and house, playing golf and enjoying their years, not having to worry about a thing.

almost all my focus, as i grow older, is on making them happy. and it is not in a self-sacrifical, noble, holier than thou way. it’s just in a laid back, ‘i am doing this because i want to, because they deserve it’ kinda way.

i want to be the best daughter…i have their love and affection and the thought of losing it terrifies me.

i suppose that’s why i could relate to the little boy in the book, who did quite a horrible thing, just because his fathers love was more important to him, than anything else in the world.

i question myself often though…am i just hiding behind my parents and their goals? i even wonder whether i will end up hating them for the amount of influence they unknowingly exert on each decision of mine.

may be in a couple of decades, i will regret all that i did, but for now, it just feels right.

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also, on another note, i haven’t been posting much because i am suffering from the “shit, i am growing a year older” blues. the big day is only three days away and i’m depressed…i was supposed to be in amsterdam or anywhere else. however, obviously, due to my laziness and that of those who were supposed to accompany me, it never panned out. and i am stuck with the same superficial crew that i don’t really want to be with, but HAVE to invite. i wish my blog/virtual friends, who feel more real than the real life friends i have, were here…

if i write in the next few days, it is ONLY going to be to whine excessively, like a li’l bitch.

consider yourself warned.

i went to a friend’s performance the other day (he sings incredibly well - some of you might remember him as the english teacher/singer that i was ’seeing’ last year). he introduced me to jeff buckley last year with his rendition of ‘we all fall in love sometimes’ (great song). and this time, he sang ‘lilac wine’ which is haunting.

When I think more than I want to think
Do things I never should do
I drink much more that I ought to drink
Because it brings me back you

haven’t we all been there?

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so once again, it’s thrusday night. i have a number of options, none very appealing. i have invites to the top parties in town and messages from the clubs keep flooding my mobile inbox, all claiming to be “the venue” with the best DJ, the best drinks and the usual marketing bs.

what does one do when they get tired of quiet nights in and repulsed by mad parties? there isn’t an in-between, at least not in my city.

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i find my job extremely frustrating.

i think it is because i have to deal with people. i suck at dealing with people, because most of them are stupid.

or perhaps i am too arrogant.

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this is a pretty pointless post, isn’t it? but then, aren’t they all? i am shamed by the story telling abilities of the crew on my sidebar. on top of that, i miss my old home (blog) - it allowed me to be far more whiny than i can here…i don’t know why.

you know how we all crave routine/order in chaos? the reverse holds true, doesn’t it? sometimes, one just wants something, anything to break the monotony of knowing exactly how tomorrow will begin and end. there are times when our cushy lifestyle is severly lacking in ‘life’…when eating, sleeping, fucking, working, writing, whining, all the bloody ‘ings’ aren’t enough.

i am convinced that there has to be more.

do you think it is normal to sometimes think of shooting your brains out, just to add some excitement to the dullness of life?

i know that has to be the most morbid thing i’ve ever said, but the thought often crosses my mind. i am too much of a narcissist/superficial (and ill equipped) bitch to ever seriously consider it since you know, i’d end up looking like one ugly corpse then. plus, i’m relatively content. and that’s all i ever wanted.

they were right though, sometimes it is a bitch to get what you wanted.

It’s not what you thought
when you first began it
You got what you want
now you can hardly stand it, though
well, now you know

It’s not going to stop
It’s not going to stop.

(aimee mann, wise up)

i am extremely excited about this new blog.

i can finally tell you stories about my silly city.

this feels unbelievably liberating.

if i go to madinat jumeirah, i can actually write about how much i love that place.

i wish i had done this before…i think this may help me snap out of my sulky, childish ‘i’m so bored’ phase.

i wonder (over-analytical me kicks in) whether i am craving change or excitement because i am in a real relationship that may actually go somewhere (gasp!). he laughs often and tells me that i would be the ‘runaway bride’. relax, i am not getting hitched. it’s just that there are no barriers anymore. i always chose men that i couldn’t marry, because they belonged to a different religion, different country. and this time, he is the same religion, same country and everyone keeps asking, ’so when are you guys getting married?’ - it gets on my nerves.

changing blogs, changing hair colors (drastically), changing the way i dress and developing a booty short obsession to replace the thong one seem to be the only way to address the fact that it doesn’t look like i’ll be changing my man anytime soon.