A letter to my father

 

 

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Dear father,

Don’t worry, this is not a hate letter. It’s a thank you letter.

Thank you for being away all those years, as it taught me not to let people in easily.

Thank you for giving my mother such a hard time as I would never have become to strong independent woman she raised us to be.

Thank you for keeping us on a budget so tight that we had no choice but to appreciate every step we took forward.

Thank you for smoking so much that it forever made me disgusted of the habit.

Thank you for leaving us behind so that we could dig up and create our own path to a comfortable life.

Thank you for not teaching me about boys so that I could meet and experience first-hand who the biggest assholes on earth are and how to spot them.

Thanks for teaching us how addictive and destructive gambling can be to a family.

Most importantly, thank you for never changing. I would rather live the rest of my life knowing that you lived yours exactly the way you wanted to and not tied down to the idea of happiness.

By all means, thanks for being a less than average father and husband but a great role model for all the wrong reasons. I will forever look up to you and the valuable lessons you didn’t even know you taught us.

RIP. 9/01/2013

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The story of any lebanese idiot

Although I haven’t lived in Beirut most of my adult life, nor do I speak the language, I have met and observed the reactions of the many people I’ve met from different ethnicities and backgrounds throughout my short life when I mentioned where I come from. And being the Lebanese Idiot that I am, I would sometimes hide the truth. I would deny that I am; in fact, Lebanese or that I have anything to do with my own home country.

It’s so easy to judge a person based on their name/ color/ religion/ home address/ ethnicity these days only because of the actions of a few assholes. I just preferred to avoid the conversation all together. It is so much easier to just say “I’m Armenian” or have some fun and say that I’m Irish or Swedish to the people who I know I will never speak to again (I’m talking to you, nosy salesmen).

I would therefore like to shed some light on this topic on behalf of all socially retarded caught-up-in-the-middle Lebanese idiots out there.

Let me start off by listing by order why being Lebanese has it’s positives:

  1. falafelLebanese_Falafel_Chickpea_Recipe

2. lentil saladlebanese-lentil-salad-recipe-kalynskitchen

3. hummuspicf7HXuL4. wara2 3enabstuffed-grape-leaves5. Tabboulehtabbouleh

 

If that’s not enough to make us look amazingly awesome, I’ll gladly give you more reasons.

We are the sad little tiny beat up country squeezed between Israel and Syria and we are constantly in trouble. Beirut did get destroyed and rebuilt 7 times and we never know when the next bomb is going to hit us. But please be my guest and try to find a country where all the citizens are harmonically fucked up and happy about it, where “khayye” and “3amo” (respectively mean “brother” and “uncle”) are commonly said to taxi drivers and your local mini market’s cashier, and where you always have a family friend/ neighbor to stuff your face with food and make you feel at home on your down days.

There are two Lebanons.

This one:

 

And this one:

 

So next time you meet one of us, be careful of which Lebanon you think of before you start conversating. Some of us do make Beirut look bad (I’m talking to you sleezy men with too much gel in your hair and grumpy old racist women) but the rest of us need to stand up for ourselves and be proud of where we come from. I am still constantly reminding myself that I should not be ashamed of my country because I grew up in one of the most diverse and beautiful places in the world. I’m a proud Lebanese Idiot from a small, fucked up country. Nice to meet you!

 

Just another feminist post

Paper doll graffiti in a public street - Rome
Paper doll graffiti in a public street – Rome

So I was sitting in the metro the other day on my way back from the beach (yeah, we get to go to the beach in December here in Dubai. DIEE), I was astonished. Not by the looks I was getting from men, but by the fact that I found it so extremely normal that it was an automatic reflex of mine to zip up my jacket over the shorts and shirt I was wearing. This little scene got me thinking every time I received a disgusting look from other men at the bar, a mall, the supermarket or the beach. I am positive that not all men are the same, but this post goes out specifically to the ones I’m talking about.

Dear men,

I am waiting for the day that I, an many other women on planet earth, will be confident enough to go out wearing whatever the hell we want and not think about looking “slutty” or getting looks and comments by you.

I do not know what makes you think that you can grab, whistle, or whisper when we did not give you any opportunity to do so. You are losing respect for yourself and lowering yourself to the level of dog shit on a sunny day. 

I don’t understand how you can even look at other women when your girl is standing right next to you. She is there for a reason. She is probably putting up with a whole list of your bullshit. At least give her enough respect not to look like she is dating a dick. That will only make her look bad.

I get that you’re so confident that you can get any woman you want, but the one you’ve always dreamed of and wanted will not come to you if you keep looking at every single one you find attractive like a sex object. 

If I invite you over to my place, please don’t use it as an opportunity to try to get into my pants. And  if I get invited to your place, please don’t think that I automatically want to sleep with you. Again, remember the dog shit story. 

I will wear whatever I want because it makes me feel good about myself. Not to please you or your pathetic friends, trust me. 

Last but not least, if you respect your own mother or sister, please stop being a little shit and respect other women no matter who they are or what they look like.

Just because we own our sexuality does not give you the right to exploit it.

Thanks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

15 reasons to date a third culture kid

 

 

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You are probably wondering what a “third culture kid” actually is.

Here’s a short definition I googled: “Third culture kid (TCK) is a term used to refer to children who were raised in a culture outside of their parents’ culture for a significant part of their development years.”

AKA – In the real world –

Normal person: “Where are you from?”

Me: *clears throat and prepares to let out the speech she so thoroughly learned by heart* “I’m Lebanese Armenian but I grew up in Muscat and I don’t speak Arabic because I went to a French school and leaned English through TV and had friends from all over the world. I’ve never lived in Armenia and I don’t feel like I belong in Lebanon but we do share a lot of similar traditions in our culture. Don’t talk to me about the guy you know who is from Armenia because I have nothing in common with him and our language dialects are actually completely different. Muscat is my home although not legally and I somehow ended up in Dubai now. What about you?”

Normal person: *blank with just a hint of confused look on his face*

Now that you know exactly where I, and many others are coming from (perhaps including yourself), here are  15 reasons to date a third culture kid! huraaaaaah! Nothing negative about us here!

1- You will make friends from all over the world who by the way, will also be TCks

2- You will taste food from all over the world – and she will know exactly what to order, every time. 

3- You will know random shit you never thought you’d actually be interested in – yeah, you might as well listen to her random facts about the daily life of sea turtles.  

4- You will adopt an -interesting- sense of style. And if you don’t, you will have to accept the fact that she may or may not walk around covered in henna with oversized sunglasses and a turban wrapped around her head. 

5- You will learn to swear in 3 different languages, at least. Because one just isn’t enough. 

6- You will understand others and be more compassionate towards cultures. In other words, stop being a racist asshole.

7- She will always inspire you – especially if you’re a designer/artist/writer

8- She will be you personal dictionary in the grocery store. – “Babe, what the fuck is this Thai green stuff?” – if that’s you, go back to point number 6. 

9- You will never get bored talking to her. She might end up talking about the lesbian dog of her hippie best friend back in her second home town

10- She’s independent and a free thinker (and will sense a bullshit person from miles away, by the way)

11- She knows exactly how to pack a suitcase in less than ten minutes and can also organize, pack and tape moving boxes perfectly

12- Her family is fun and open minded. Each of her family members has even more awesome stories to tell

13- She’s not a follower; she has an opinion about EVERYTHING. Remember, she’s seen a lot with her own eyes. 

14- Life never, ever gets boring or annoying with her. Unless if you piss her off. You might end up being sworn at in 5 different languages. 

15- Interesting food combinations – She will convince you that using palak paneer as a sauce for spaghetti is actually a good idea.

 

Got any to add? feel free to share!