Welcome Fellow Campaigners!!

I'm participating in the Platform Building Campaign. If you're a fellow campaigner stopping by, make sure to leave me a comment if you follow me so that I can find you. Sometimes there's not a link in your profile on the GFC so I don't have a way to figure out where you came from. I'm looking forward to meeting everyone and to reading your posts!!

Thursday, March 31, 2011

Expose Yourself

Eww. No. Not like that. Geez put your clothes back on. I was talking about your blog, pervs.

The other day I was thinking how much I love blogging and also how much I love making money. I mean who doesn't. You can buy nice shiny pretty things with money. So I was wondering if it were possible to combine my two loves into one. You know like Reese's did with two of my all time favorites, chocolate and peanut butter. I asked Mr. Google if he knew. He gave me a bunch of different answers. Some were totally bizarre and I slowly walked away from them, but one thing did catch my eye.

Have you heard of this? After several clicks, I ended up on Blogadvertisingstore.com. I have only been a member for a couple days, but so far it seems like a nice place to be. They accept both bloggers and advertisers. Right now, they are looking for advertisers so it is the perfect time to drop in and check out what they're offering.

If you stop by, let me know what you think and tell them I sent you. I am Dafeenah there too.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Things I Don't Understand

Now those of you who follow me on Twitter may be slightly confused as to why I have this listed. You may even have read some of my tweets, but appearances can be deceiving because I have no clue how to work Twitter. You see all of those pretty tweet tweets are automatic. I don't have to actually DO anything. So it appears I know what I am doing, but I truly have no clue.

I mean if I tweet, then who hears it? If I follow stalk someone, do they hear my tweets? Or only those who are following stalking  me? What if I want to tweet to a particular person? How do I get their attention? How do you FIND anyone on Twitter? I get lost in my own house. Twitter is way more complicated. I also don't know how to share my Twitter ID @DafeenaJameel . Whenever I put the link anywhere, it never works. Watch it work now just to make a liar out of me

Facebook I get a bit more than Twitter. I almost got an aneurysm trying to figure out Twitter so I gave up and moved onto Facebook.

Facebook is aware that morons non geniuses are using it so they have made it a bit more moron non genius friendly. Even so there are a few things I don't get. For example, when I "like" a page, how do I return to it without having to bookmark it? Is there a "like page" section like there is with groups? I am lazy busy and don't have time to search for the group/page every single time I want to visit it. What if I don't want  every move I make on Facebook broadcast to the world ? How do I stop Facebook from telling everyone I have to go pee?

There are many more things I don't understand, but we will start with these two. I do have some pride. There might be a few people who think I am smart. I don't want to ruin their delusions all at once.

Edited: Thanks to Nannie I have now learned how to create a Facebook page. I can now cross this off my things to do before I rule the world list.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

A-Z April

I am super excited about finding the A-Z Challenge for April. You post everyday except Sundays and each day is themed around a letter in the alphabet. There are more than 600 people already signed up to participate. Arlee from Tossin' It Out is host. This is the second or third year he has done the challenge I am not sure exactly. The one thing that I truly like about Arlee and everyone I have met so far is the feeling of "family" and helping each other, supporting and encouraging each other.  There is still time to sign up if you haven't yet. Just click the button in my sidebar.

I haven't got any posts or anything planned out. I have read several people's blogs and they have their posts already written. I don't know how they could do that. I am so not that organized. I am looking forward to meeting new people and I am certain this will be the boost I need to get my writing more organized and focused. Since I don't really know what to expect with this being my first year I am just gonna wing it and see what happens. I normally post daily anyways so I don't expect that to be an issue. The issue will be making my posts themed around the letter of the day. I have a few ideas so we'll see how it all works out.

Monday, March 28, 2011

Say What?!

This is the conversation I just had with my 5 yr old niece:

Niece: "Where is Uncle Shahjee's channel?"

"His what?"

Niece:"The channel. You know Uncle Shahjee's channel. He wants it and told me to bring it to him."

For 30-45 secs I ran through my head all the possibilities I could think of that she might be saying, but for the life of me I could not figure out what "channel" she was looking for. So I just said "I don't know".

Niece:"Ok let me go ask him where it's at."

Two minutes later she returns and walks over to his desk, looks in the top drawer and pulls out his phone CHARGER. She looks at me, smiles and says "See his CHANNEL"  and skips out of the room at which point I busted out laughing because I  swear she was saying "channel" and not "charger".

She is very proud of the fact that I speak english. Her mom is always telling me how she tells all of her cousins and friends at school how her auntie speaks english. Last night I went to the kitchen to get something and she was sitting in the TV room with her dad and a cousin. I heard her "whisper" to her cousin:

"That's MY auntie. She isn't YOUR auntie. She is MY auntie and she speaks English. YOUR auntie doesn't speak english like MY auntie does".

She is a handful, but I love having her and her little sister here. They only come a couple times a year. They have A/C in their house and we don't so it's very hard on the little one to stay here especially during the summer months and then in winter they have school so they don't get to visit often. Although Snoball might be slightly happy they don't come often. He's been hiding out in our room ever since they decided to play dress up.

Last night he came running into our room at full speed, jumped up in my lap and started meowing very loudly. Apparently the girls had decided to play dress up and Snoball was their baby. They had put little bows in his hair and put a little dress on him. Now whenever he hears them coming he goes and hides in the corner behind the curtains.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Jasmine Business Web Directory Review

Web directory review

An inexpensive but extremely effective way of advertising is to submit your business url to a business web directory. Making customers aware of your product is sometimes more important than having the best quality product available on the market. Even if your prices are lower than your competitors, it does you little good if no one knows your business exists. Most business owners assume advertising is expensive, and for the most part it is. However, there are many alternatives to traditional advertising that are just as effective and in some cases even more effective. By utilizing the power of the internet, you can increase your customer database from your local city to worldwide with just a few clicks of the mouse.
Online business web directories such as Jasmine Directory  have become the new yellow pages. When people need their leaky kitchen sink repaired, they often jump online and start checking through the business listings to see which business in their area not only has the best prices, but also has good customer feedback.
This is why it is important to submit your site to a reputable business directory. Jasmine Directory thoroughly researches each link that is submitted and ensures that each link adheres to its strict and demanding criteria. Not only is this beneficial to customers, it is extremely beneficial to small business owners. People are known by the company they keep. If the directory has a bad reputation, then their bad reputation will rub off on you. At Jasmine Directory, all links are 100% SEO friendly as well as W3, CSS, and HTML valid.
 Jasmine Directory also allows you to submit up to 5 extra URLs of the most accessed pages of your website. You can highlight your weekly specials, new products, and customer testimonials. Not only can you include your website's title, description and URL you may submit (optional) your company's address, phone and even a relevant to your niche article. They also collect two thumbnails from your site to enhance your business listing. If you're a business owner wanting to gain traffic to your business website, then Jasmine Directory is the way to go.

 "This is a sponsored site review, but the content of this post was not in any way influenced by monetary compensation and is soley based on my personal opinion."

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Whose Voice Am I Using

Many of the writing blogs and sites I have visited lately talk a lot about "finding your voice". This is strange I didn't realize I needed a "voice" in writing, but after reading the obvious, it does make sense. I definitely think it is something I need to work on. I know my writing is "good" but not "great". I know there are many many things I need to learn. I never realized how much work went into writing before. So much behind the scenes stuff .

Until recently I never realized that I might actually could be a writer. Writing is for smart people. I am not smart. Writing is for talented people. I am not talented. Writing is for (insert adjective here). Then immediately my inner critic would chime in, that's not you. I write the best when I just write without thinking. Just let the writing flow out of me, but I know I have to learn how to harness that so that I can write more on "demand" as opposed to when the notion strikes.

At the moment I don't know whose voice I am using. If it's mine or someone else's, but I think that pretty much sums up my life at the moment. If I don't know who "me" is then how can I possibly find my own voice. I definitely think that through this challenge I am going to work on direction and my voice. It is a good time to try new things out. See what feels good. See what's me.

What about you? Do you know your voice? How did you find it? Was it always present?

Friday, March 25, 2011

Liar Liar Pants on Fire

I recently stumbled upon Tossing It Out. He is having an A-Z challenge for the month of April. It seemed fun and exciting so I joined up. Then today he passed  this lovely on to me:

I am suppose to tell 3 truths and 1 lie. You have to guess the lie:

  1. I have 2 cats.
  2. I speak, read, and write in 3 languages
  3. I am married.
  4. I don't eat bhindi (fried okra).

So which one is the LIE?  Thanks again to Arlee for passing this on. I can't wait to start the A-Z challenge next week.  Ohh I think I will pass this on to the ever so lovely

Deus Ex Machina
Sapphire Dragonflies
Destination Unknown

Dumb or Dumber

I am not sure which I am at the moment. Whichever suffered the most pain I guess. I think I broke my toe last night or at least stubbed it back up to my ankle. I wish I had some heroic tale of rescuing baby kittens from a tree, but no I could not be that lucky.

I had just brought a cup of tea to Shahjee and went back to close the door of our room. As per usual I was running off at the mouth without realizing my foot was in the path of the door. If I was a bit smarter I would have stopped closing the door at the first sign of pain but oh no. I continued to close the door as pain began shooting up my leg. By the time I realized what was the cause of the pain my toe was wedged firmly under the door. I had to pull my foot out from under it.

Normally I can handle pain. When I stepped on a piece of metal last year and it went through my foot. I simply pulled it out and wrapped it up. Took 2 ibuprofen and that was that. No doctor no morphine. I can do pain, but this was the worst pain I ever felt in my life. I admit I almost cried. So yea now it's all swollen and purple. I can walk on it for the most part. If anyone asks though, I was rescuing kittens or baby seals.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Wake Up Tremor- Aftershock

My sleep was interrupted this morning by falling plaster. I was actually sleeping which is something I don't do often. I think the earth took offense to that and ever so slightly jiggled itself beneath me. It knew it wouldn't take much because I am a light sleeper. The sound in my own dreams wakes me up at times. So when the plaster began to fall on me, I awakened slowly and slightly confused. Not sure what was going on or why it sounded like it was raining in my room. I turned the light to see why the ceiling was falling before I started to screech like chicken little and confirming to all I was in fact a little bit crazy.

That was when Shahjee came in the room and I said, "Did you feel that?"

He confirmed what I suspected.


It wasn't anything major and it actually happens quite often. A couple times a month. The first time it happened I didn't even realize that it was happening. I was sat on the floor or I wouldn't have even felt the ripple as it passed underneath.

Shahjee looked down at me and smiled, "Did you feel that?"

Not sure if I had actually felt anything I asked, "What was that?"


I have to admit it scared me a little bit. I am from the south and the earth doesn't move there. The wind yes. The earth not so much. It was the moment I realized just how far from home I had come. Since that day there have been numerous ripples, bomb blasts, floods. Things I never imagined would have a direct impact on me but have. So this morning as I sat in the plaster rain and felt the earth stretching I smiled and slowly drifted back to sleep. In my home over the rainbow.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Blame It on the Crazy

Trying to be aware of current events while being overseas is not easy. The news is often delayed or censored. A lot of USA/UK news agencies are banned. I have my ways of getting around this ban, and no I am not sharing how, but one so called "news story" that I keep seeing is about Charlie Sheen. At first I ignored it because to me it is NOT news. However, as the weeks have gone by I keep reading reports where it appears that people are trying to excuse his behavior by saying he is "bipolar".  Today I saw a news article that read "Are we STIGMATISING Charlie Sheen?"

This article was in reference to the recent reports of Charlie Sheen having bipolar. Somehow labeling him with bipolar is more of a "stigma" than him just being an addict on a binge. I have bipolar. There is enough stigma already attached to mental illness and whether these people realize it or not they are not helping the situation. His PR people are trying to find a way of excusing his behavior. Bipolar or not there is no excuse. His behavior is way out of line.

I work hard every day to just be "normal". I fight my brain constantly. It is not easy. It is a huge struggle. I don't make excuses when I do things wrong. My bipolar doesn't excuse my wrong behavior, but I don't think he has bipolar. He is an addict. Not every addict is crazy. Not every crazy is an addict.

I find it extremely sad that somehow saying he is "bipolar" is much more of a stigma than saying he spent the whole weekend snorting coke up his nose with 3 prostitutes. I don't get it. Bipolar is an illness. Just like diabetes. I didn't choose to have bipolar anymore than a diabetic chooses to have diabetes. If I had a choice, you better believe I would pick Not Crazy for $1000, Alex. Charlie Sheen is an addict. He has a CHOICE. He can choose to get help. He can choose to remain an addict. Either way he has a choice. Someone with bipolar does not. It is a lifelong disease. It will never go away. It is beyond the control of the person who has it. By writing articles such as that one, it only re-enforces the prejudices people already have against the mentally ill. Crazy people have enough to deal with. I am tired of celebrities using mental illness as an excuse for their behavior. It is belittling and does more harm to those who truly are ill. I realize most people don't care what my opinion is, but it's my two cents I will spend how I want.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Across the Pond

If this is your first time to walk across the pond, you can read the guidelines HERE. If you prefer you can wait in the Q with Sabzi Wala. It's totally up to you.

The Bahrain International Circuit hosts Formula 1 every year. I am not a Nascar or racing fan, but I LOVED going to the track and watching the races. It didn't matter what or who was racing. I loved the atmosphere. Loud noises, fast cars. It was amazing. People fly from all over the world to watch the Bahrain leg of the Formula 1.

Here are a few fast facts. You can read more over on the BIC website:

  1. This year’s FIA Formula 1 world championship will take place over a grand total of 1129 laps. That’s a distance of 5795km and an average of 59.6 laps and 305km per grand prix
  2. At 6.3km, Bahrain is the second longest track on the 2010 F1 calendar. The longest is the 7km Spa-Francorchamps circuit, home to the Belgian Grand Prix. The shortest is the 3.3km street circuit in Monte Carlo, used for the Monaco Grand Prix

Racing whether on or off the track is a huge past time in Bahrain. There is not a weekend that goes by that a race doesn't occur.


(HAYABUSA aka "Busa)

Right up from my flat was a empty stretch of highway. It was the "unofficial" track. Every weekend I would go up on my roof and watch the bikes vs cars. Guys popping wheelies or stoppies. Doing burn outs that rip their tires to shreds.

(Saudi/Bahrain Causeway)

Being a tiny island, there wasn't far you could go so racing cars and bikes was one way the locals entertained themselves. Guys from neighboring Saudi Arabia often drove over the causeway every Thursday and Friday to show off their latest ride and challenge the "locals" they deemed inferior. Although the Bahrainis usually beat the crap out of the Saudis and sent them back across the causeway licking their wounds.

This racing fetish leads to another fetish.  The number plate. Having a number plate with 4 numbers or less showed a very high status. They were not easy or cheap to get. Royals had number plates with 2 or less numbers. The higher up the monarchy the fewer numbers in the plate. 

If anyone ever got a good number plate, then they would starve or sell their first born child before they would sell that plate. Think I am joking ask any Arab who was raised overseas. Not just the number plates but mobile numbers are highly sought after as well. Another thing I never quite understood. I had a friend who was offered 4000 dinars ($10,700) for his mobile number. I almost pissed myself when he said "No, thanks".

I guess it's a guy thing. All the testosterone coarsing through their veins and more money than they know what to do with. You might go your whole life in USA and never see a car like this one, but they are commonplace in the Middle East. That was something I never could get over. I always thought having  a BMW or Mercedes was "high class". There that is what the maid drives.


Monday, March 21, 2011

Your Very Own Slice

Pizza is one of my favorite things to eat, but I hate the greasy crust and tons of sauce that is usually dumped on it. Even though I ask for light on the sauce, heavy on the cheese, I usually end up with just the opposite. By using pre-made garlic bread, I found that I could make a quick and easy personal pizza just the way I liked.

You can make your own garlic bread, but I just usually buy whatever is on sale that week at the store, throw it in the freezer, and pull it out whenever I am in the mood for pizza.

I do make my own sauce, but you can easily use a storebought can of pizza or spaghetti sauce to make this recipe even simpler.

Ingredients for sauce:

1lb ground beef
2 tomatoes
1 tablespoon tomato puree
1 green pepper diced
1 onion diced
4-5 mushrooms diced
2-3 green chilies diced (leave out if you don't like spicy)
1 garlic clove crushed and minced
1/2 tsp Oregano
1/2 tsp dried Basil or 3-4 leaves finely chopped
2-3 Bay Leaves
Salt to taste
Black Pepper to taste

Directions for making the sauce:

Heat a couple tablespoons of cooking oil over medium heat. Then add your diced onions. Let onions cook until translucent but not browned. Then add tomatoes. Once tomatoes have cooked down and a gravy mixture starts to form, add in all of your spices (oregano, basil, bay leaves, garlic, salt and pepper). Cook for a couple minutes then add in all of your veggies (peppers, chilies, mushrooms etc). Make sure to coat all of the veggies very well with the tomato/spice mixture. Then add in your ground meat. Cook meat until browned all the way through. Then I add a tablespoon of tomato puree and 1/3-1/2 cup of water. I don't like my sauce runny. I prefer it to be a bit thicker however if you like more of a thinner, tomatoey sauce, then add more water and more tomato puree until it reaches your desired consistency.

Simply spoon the sauce over the top of the garlic bread and top with shredded cheese. I use a mexican 4 cheese blend, but whatever cheese you prefer is fine. You can also top with pepperoni or for a vegetarian pizza, make the sauce as directed above just don't add the meat.

After you have the sauce prepared, the kids can each make their own individual pizza. You can always puree a few veggies and add into the sauce. It is a great way to get kids to eat veggies without knowing they are eating them.

After you have your bread topped, simply place in a preheated oven until cheese melts and bread is toasty. It shouldn't take more than a couple minutes so make sure to keep an eye on it so it doesn't burn.

There are also endless ways that you can make your pizza. You can use meatballs, ground chicken or turkey instead of beef, shredded chicken instead of ground. This is also a great way to get rid of any left-overs you have especially if it's not enough for a whole meal but enough you don't want to just let it go to waste.

Linking up with Meals on Monday at The Blog Entourage

Please visit my recipes page for more quick and easy recipes.

Remember(RED)- Taming the Beast

This was for a writing prompt for Remembe(RED) at TRDC. The prompt was forgiveness. I know this seems like it has nothing to do with forgiveness, but it is how I felt once I had reached the place of forgiving myself for my past.

“Where do I go from here?”
I had been asking myself that question for days. After 20 years of imploding and exploding, I had finally managed to tame the raging beast that lived within me, but now that it was tamed I had no idea what to do. I had no idea who I was. I had spent the last 20 years attempting to tame this wildly savage animal. That was my identity. It was what I did. It gave me purpose. It was my reason for existing, but now what was my purpose?
I was ecstatic to have finally conquered my demons, but a part of me missed them.  While at times they nearly destroyed me, they also gave me courage and inner strength. They made me push through the fear. Now without them, I would have to push myself. That thought alone terrified me.
There I stood. Suspended in time. Afraid to move forward, but even more afraid of going back. I missed the beast, but I feared him even more. Feared what I would do if he remembered he was a wild animal and not the docile creature laying at my feet. Every now and then I would see him stirring in his sleep. During those moments, I would hold my breath. Afraid the sound of my breathing would awaken him from his deep slumber.
I had to make a decision and soon. I couldn’t stand there forever. It was only a matter of time before the beast would remember his wildness. I had to be prepared when that time came.
Suddenly, I had a new purpose.  A new identity. I knew which way to go. I started packing my things. I had made a decision. I had to move quickly before I changed my mind. I feared waking the doubt as much as I feared waking the beast. If doubt came, then all would be lost. I would be forever trapped in this limbo.
Taking one last look around, making sure I had packed all I would need for the journey ahead, I turned off the light and closed the door. As soon as I stepped out of limbo, I could feel the warmth of the sun upon my face. A new day had just begun. I stood there for a moment, taking it all in. I closed my eyes and turned my face upwards. I was standing there exposed, naked, for the entire world to see, but I didn’t care. I loved the warmth of the sun, the way the breeze tossed my hair in my face. I loved the coolness of its touch on my body. I could feel its hand running all over me.
Breathing the morning air deep into my lungs, I forced my legs forward. As much as I wanted to stay there, I had to put some distance between me and the beast. If I was going to be the keeper of the beast, then I needed to learn how, and there was only one person that could teach me. That person was me.

Sunday, March 20, 2011


I am feeling just blah today. Not sure what it is. The weather changed like 4 days ago. This time last week I was sitting under 4 layers of clothing and wearing my winter jacket. Waiting for 9:00 p.m. to come so I could turn on the gas heater. Today I am sitting in a short sleeve t-shirt. Shahjee feeling a bit warmer than me has the fan turned on as well. It's funny how quickly the weather changes. In a few more months it will be well above 50 (celsius not fahrenheit that's 125 in case you were wondering). I am pretty sure that is what has got me feeling kinda funky today. Knowing that in two months time I will be sitting here in hotter than hell weather. Having PMS doesn't help either. 

The Cricket world cup started. I had hoped to get our TV repaired before it did, but no such luck. I don't really watch TV except for Cricket. I am not usually a sports fan, but for some bizarre reason I have become a Cricket addict. It only took about 100 matches and two months for Shahjee to explain it to me. I just could not understand why the batsmen kept running back and forth or why there were two batsmen to begin with. Isn't it illegal for the pitcher, I mean bowler, to hit the batsmen? No, I told you that last time Shahjee would reply. The rules were definitely made up as they went along when this game was first invented. "Is that out?" Ummm yea sure why not. That's out. Add that to the rule book".

I think I like it because you never can truly tell who will win. Just because someone is in the lead at the moment doesn't mean they will stay there. A lot can happen in an over. A few sixes, a couple 4's,  a new batsmen, and the tide of the whole match can change after just six balls. 

I also heard the ice cream wala yesterday. That is a definite sign summer is coming. If you have Wall's ice cream in your area, you have got to try it. OMG! It is the absolute most delicious ice cream I have ever eaten in my life. I have eaten a lot of ice cream in every flavor imagineable, but Wall's ice cream is to die for. Ben 'n' Jerry have nothing on Wall's.

So yea that is my day, PMS, cricket and funk. Not necessarily in that order. 

Saturday, March 19, 2011

I Bleed Red too

Chun chun.

The sound of metal hitting against metal. It's the sound that sets me apart in a sea of black.
Chun chun.

People stop and turn their heads and try to figure out where the sound comes from.  Neighbors run quickly to their roof tops just to get a glimpse.  Children stand outside my door waiting to hear the sound.

Chun chun.

The sound that is unique to me. The sound so ordinary that it is heard everyday, but so extraordinary when it comes from me.

Chun chun.

In a world where you must fit in. You must be the same. I stand out. Even amongst a sea of veils. I am uncovered. Exposed. Naked.

Chun chun.

The neigbhorhood women stand outside my door, waiting. "Is your bahuu here?" they ask. For three years I have been either sick or sleeping, but the sound of my tell tale heart beats loudly giving my hiding place away.

Chun chun.

"How many do you wear?" they ask. "Eighteen", I reply. Then there is the enevitable "gasp" of shock. "You know one is enough", is always the first reply. Only to be followed by "Don't they feel hot? or Who gave them to you? Shahjee?"

Chun chun.

Prying questions from nosy women. The gossip my poor husband has to endure simply because of a sound. A sound they can't understand. A sound that is out of place on me. A sound that doesn't belong when you're a gori.

Chun chun.

"Do you wear them in America?"


"Really?! In America?"

"Yes". (If they only knew what some people wear in America, this is nothing in comparison)

Chun chun.

No matter how lightly I walk the sound remains ever so faint. The chun chun follows me like a shadow. Firmly attached to my every move. My every breath.

"Where are your shoes?"

"I don't wear shoes."


"Yes." ( Please just let them leave. )

My MIL can tell when I have had enough. She quickly ushers them out.

"She has work to do" then slowly they leave one by one. A touch on the head as they pass by. A mark of respect. Of belonging even in a place where I don't belong.

Chun chun.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Warning- Detour Ahead- Proceed with Caution

I am taking creative license to the max for this week's writing prompt for TRDC. The prompt was about a time when you took a detour. Where had you intended to go and where did you end up?

Actually I had an extremely hard time with this prompt. It wasn't that I have never taken a detour. It was that I have taken so many detours even my detours have detours. How was I going to pick just one? They were all jumping up and down shouting "Pick me! Ohh ohh pick me! No not her, pick me!" While I almost took one or two detours as inspiration, at the last moment I would swerve back onto the highway. Just trudging forward in search of inspiration. I still had a few miles left according to the flashing lights so I was in no hurry to pick one just yet. However, as with most trips I started feeling a bit bored and hungry so I started flipping through some blogs clicking on links and that is how I found this. The mother of all detours.

After seeing that I no longer could concentrate on writing. All I could think about was that ooey gooey yummy mother of all chocolate cakes and omg why haven't they invented scrach n lick computer monitors yet?!

Ahem! Where was I? Oh yes, the writing prompt. So while I had hoped to have a wonderful beautifully written story for you instead I took a detour and have brought you this yummy chocolate cake. I hope you forgive me for my lack of inspiration, but after witnessing this gorgeous specimen, my brain refused to come out of its Homer Simpson chaaawk-lit coma. Hopefully I will be more inspired for the next prompt and if not there is always chocolate and chocolate with coconut and chocolate with peanut butter in the middle. I have to go now I just gained 10 lbs from reading his blog.

*I really did stumble across this blog while I was searching for inspiration procrastinating. All of his recipes look as yummy as this. So if you're looking for some great new recipes I suggest you check out The New Chef's Journal. I am sure you will become addicted just like I did.

A Tangled Love Web

"Why are you doing this, Joe?" Annie pleaded, tears streaming down her face.

"Walk," was the only reply she got.

"Please, Joe, don't do this. You said you loved me. How can you do this to me if you love me?", terror flowed through her veins, replacing every drop of blood with the fear of certain death.

Silent, Joe kept the gun pointed towards, Annie. With a flip of his wrist, he motioned towards the water. "Get in", his voice was rough and his words slurred from the combination of alcohol and valium he had been taking since he found out the awful truth about Annie.

Her body began to shake uncontrollably as she stepped into the frigid water. Partly out of fear and partly due to the freezing water. Luckily the water only came to her knees, but even so it was the middle of winter, Annie rapidly began to lose all feeling in her legs. The numbness slowly traveling up the length of her body. Teeth rattling one against the other, "P-P-Please, Joe, why are you doing this?"

"You said you loved me. Why, Annie, why? I would have given you anything you asked me for," Joe screamed at Annie.

"I do love you but I...," Annie began, but before she could finish, Joe began shouting  "Shut up you lying bitch. You never loved me. You used me. To get close to him. My own brother. You used me, Annie."

Startled by a sound, Joe looked up at the top of  the riverbank. He had been too lost in his rage to hear the car approaching. It was only when Jamie screamed, "Mommy!" that Joe even knew anyone else was there.

Before Bill could stop her, Jamie raced down the river bank. Stumbling on the loose rocks, falling on the wet snow as she made her way down to the troubled man at the water's edge.

"Joe, please don't hurt my mommy," Jamie pleaded.

"Your mama is a lying cunt," Joe slurred. "Joe!" shouted Bill from above. "Don't you take one step, little brother," Joe warned. "If you do, they'll both be dead before you reach the bottom."

Bill knowing full well his brother was capable of making good on his threat, stayed firmly rooted at the top of the river bank.

Jamie, with a wisdom far greater than her 10 years of age, realized it would be up to her to get them out of this alive. "Joe" she began. "Do you love me, Joe?"

Confused by Jamie's question, Joe didn't answer, but he kept the gun firmly pointed at Annie. "Joe" Jamie asked again, "Do you love me, Joe?"

"Of course I do," Joe's voice was barely a whisper. If there had been a sound, Jamie wouldn't have heard his words, but even the woods remained silent out of fear of what Joe might do.

"Then give me the gun, Joe", Jamie inched slowly towards where Joe was standing. She held out her tiny hand, hoping that she could somehow get through to Joe. Could somehow get the gun away from him.

Jamie's words hit Joe like a ton of bricks. Joe slumped on the wet, snow covered ground. His head in one hand, the other wrapped tightly around the gun, still pointed at Annie. Jamie could hear the sound of Annie's teeth rattling. She knew she didn't have much time left. Again but with more force she said to Joe, "Give me the gun. I want to go home. It's cold out here, Joe. Please I am cold. Please take me home."

Before Jamie realized what was happening, she felt the coolness of the metal touch her skin. Her hand dropped towards the ground from the heaviness of the gun. Joe placed his head in both hands and began to weep uncontrollably. Bill raced down the riverbank. Grabbing the gun from Jamie's grasp as he rushed to help Annie out of the freezing water.

All four slowly climbed back up the river bank. Bill helping Annie, whose legs were frozen from standing in the river. Jamie helping Joe whose heart had been shattered by the betrayal of his love. The silence of the ride home was broken only by the sound of Annie's chattering teeth and the hiss of the car heater turned on high to help the warmth return to Annie's frozen body. Jamie occasionally glanced at the 3 adults that sat in the car around her. "Please God just let me make it back to Ma's. I swear I will never come here again," she silently prayed. "Please" she whispered as a tear slowly slid down her cheek. All she wanted was to get back to the safety of her grandma's house. Back to where sanity lived. Where she could be a 10 year old who didn't know how to talk a mad man out of murder. Back to where love lived.

Mama's Losin' It
This is for a writing prompt for Mama Kat's workshop. The prompt I chose was a story of love. Not necessarily your typical "love story" but a love story it is none the less.  

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Stand in the Q


If this is your first time to take a walk across the pond, you can read all about what it is HERE
  When I decided to move to the Middle East, I picked Bahrain because English is widely spoken there. In order to get a job even the locals have to be able to speak English so it seemed like the best choice. However, I didn't realize I would have just as much trouble understanding the "English" spoken there as I would the Arabic. You see Bahrain use to be ruled by the British Empire so they speak "British English" which is quite different from "American English".

My first day on the job my supervisor told me to take the nightly deposit to the bank and wait in the Q

Not wanting my boss to think I was a total idiot on the first day I didn't ask what the "Q" was, and proceeded to the bank hoping that the "Q" would be big enough for me to spot without having to ask anyone where it was. When I reached the bank on the first floor, I didn't see any "Q", but I did see a "line" of people waiting to deposit their night's deposits. Luckily one of them was the manager from the shop next door to me. So I asked her , "Is this the "line" for the bank?"

She replied, "Yes, this is the "que"."

That was when my brain went A-HA! They speak British English here and I wasn't looking for a Q

but for the "line" for the bank. Feeling pretty happy that I hadn't made a total idiot out of myself I finished the deposits and returned back to the shop. Things were going great. After a few hours my supervisor returned just to make sure I was settling in ok. I was. She asked me if I would like some "biscuits".

In my mind I went "biscuits?"

(google images)

but fortunately my mouth only said "No, thanks" because she then proceeded to reach into her purse and pull out  some "biscuits".

Otherwise known as "cookies" in USA. At that point I busted out laughing and was forced to admit that I was actually have much more trouble understanding the "English" than I was having understanding the Arabic. After that whenever anyone asked me if I was "multilingual", I would say "Yes, I speak both American and British English."

Friday, March 11, 2011

You've Got Mail

Today I received a very unexpected email. I guess right as I started this blog I also joined a forum for people with Bipolar. I didn't make any introductory posts or anything. I just made a post asking one question. Lots of people replied with very helpful suggestions. The one suggestion I kept getting over and over was to journal write, but that wasn't really going to cut it for me. Instead I ended up here blogging. I think I replied and thanked the people for their suggestions maybe, but other than that I didn't make any more posts and didn't talk to anyone on the forum.

I never really thought about it because I was just one person, one post. I wouldn't be missed. No one would notice I wasn't there. Then today I got an email from one of the administrators. He just wanted to check if I was ok. If I needed anything. It wasn't one of pregenerated emails. It was personal. Hand written or typed in this instance.

It really made me stop for a moment and think how when you live with bipolar, it's like being a horse wearing blinders. Your vision is so limited. You're in a constant state of flight or fight. Moving from one crisis to the next. Unless you're medicated and have a good therapist and a support network. Without these things you will never ever move out of this flight or fight survival mode. I have been in survival mode for 30+ years.

It made me wonder how many others along the way I hadn't noticed. How many others had possibly extended a helping hand, but I was so intent on getting out of the burning fire that I never even noticed the fireman that had come to save me. I wasn't worth saving so it never occurred to me that someone would even try. So I never bothered to look for help because I honestly didn't even know there was help for me. I was crazy, worthless, unwanted, unloved, trash, whore, slut. This is what I saw when I looked in the mirror. Well on the rare occassions I looked in the mirror.  

It scares me looking back at my life to think of all of the extremely dangerous situations I have put myself in. While I do have consequences, reality is the consequences could have been far greater than what they actually turned out to be. I definitely have had someone looking over me all of these years. Even if I never noticed. It's a strang new world I find myself in. I am not quite sure how to navigate it.

While my life will always be  a struggle, I will never be able to "relax". I will always have to be aware. The same way a diabetic always has to be aware. No one ever explained it to me like that before, but this is the reality of Bipolar.

I also realize I have been given a very unique opportunity. I am so many non stereotypical things, but for all of my oddities, I have been given the gift of voice.

Strange how all of that came from one little email.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Honesty & Some Other Stuff

To say that yesterday was a day of enlightenment would be an understatement. I learned more about myself after a few laughs with two friends than I have in the whole amount of my time on this planet. I learned that I almost allowed myself to be sucked back in by the fear. It almost got me but it didn't. So if you just followed me recently, and suddenly you start seeing some new posts and go WTF? Who is this? Then it's because I am going to attempt to actually do what it is I keep saying I am going to do. Although I haven't actually done it yet.

Confused, much? Me too.

I am going to actually publish the posts that are sitting in my drafts folder. The ones I write but don't publish because of fear. They are the real things I want to talk about but don't because I don't know what people would say. I have one almost finished so if after meeting me. The real me. You decide to unfollow me. That is ok because I get it. I cheated you. I lied to you. I pretended to be something that I wasn't.

For those who have been here just for me I am gonna get to know you. To really know you. I have never done that before so I might be awkward and not know whether to lean right or left so please be patient with me while I figure this all out.

To those of you who reached out to me and I didn't hear you because I had my blinders on and was too busy paying attention to myself. I am sorry. I am sorry for not really hearing what you were saying. I am sorry that I almost missed having you as a friend, but so very glad that I didn't.

So now I am gonna just be me. In all my dorkiness and cheesiness.Because I really am those things and I like it that I am.

 I probably won't have as many followers as I would have if I had just kept saying the things that I know people would want to hear. But I learned yesterday that the number 3 is the most amazing number in the world and I am a part of that.

I learned that the 2 stooges who actually visit my blog and read what I write. Every single word of it. They are much more important to me than you because seriously? A minivan? That is so not me. I am more of an Evo.

I learned how freeing it is to just be. I have been in survival mode for most of my life. In survival mode you do things you wouldn't do when you "live". Don't believe me? You'd be the first to eat my ass if we had been on that mountain. Don't lie. You know you would have.

That is how I live every day. Eating frozen ass. I think I would like to try something different from the menu. Chocolate sounds good. Yes, I think I will start with chocolate.

I Raise My Glass to - Sapphire Dragonflies


So raise your glass if you are wrong, in all the right ways, all my underdogs, we will never be never be anything but loud and nitty gritty dirty little freaks won't you come on and come on and raise your glass, just come on & come on & raise your glass

Today I read a post called Keeping It Real and at first I was going to just write a single blog post about the person who posted it. Then I thought no that isn't enough. Then I thought I would start a "blog of the week", but there are so many already cheesy awards and things so that was out, but I had to do something.

So in honor of her post I want to also "keep it real" because sometimes it's something I have a difficult time doing.It's much easier to be numb than it is to feel. So since she is the one who mentioned the song "Conversations with My 13 Year Old Self" which also led me to finding "Raise Your Glass", that is why I decided instead of a "blog of the week", I would  "Raise My Glass" to whoever has inspired me that week and since her post led to the creation of this I raise my first glass to

If you don't know her, then you are definitely missing something in your life. Secondly I would like to also honor another friend and while only she might understand the importance of this or at least I hope she understands the importance of what this means to me. For my wonderful friend

I give the "My Sam"


"I cannot carry your burden, Mr. Frodo, but I can carry you"
Vanimle sila tiri
Cormlle naa tanya tel'raa

I have so many people I want to raise my glass to. I will to each and everyone who has brightened up my world and given a helping hand to a frightened little so she could go play with dragonflies. For the first time in my life I feel I have friends. Thank you to all of you.

Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder

This is "my spin" on the writing prompt from TRDC. The prompt was to take something ugly and find the beauty in it. I decided to choose something that is more "socially ugly" than "physically ugly", and I only exceeded the word limit by 15 25 words this time which is an improvement over last time. Oh, and if you can, when you're reading this, imagine it being read by someone with a strong southern accent. It's hard to write  a southern draw.Those aren't spelling mistakes just in case it wasn't obvious.

Growing up living in my grandparents house, we didn't have much. There was no indoor plumbing. Instead you just picked an unused spot outback in the weeds. If you had to go at night, there was an old tin can at the end of the front porch. It was too dangerous at night to use the weeds. A snake might crawl up your pant’s legs and try to take a bite outta ya. At least that is what Pa use to say.

 I wasn’t allowed to use the weeds at night.

Our water came from a well outback. In the winter it would have to be heated on the stove. Then Ma would quickly fill the bathroom sink so I could take a bath.

It was fun when Ma helped me wash my hair.

We didn’t have a normal washing machine. Instead we had one of those old timey ringer washing machines. My arm got caught in that thing more times than I can remember trying to get the sheets through the ringer. We also didn’t have a dryer so clothes had to be hung out on the line.

 Sheets take a long time to dry in the winter.

You also had to be careful where you walked. Some of the floor boards weren’t too sturdy and you could fall through. Like the time my uncle forgot and stepped on the wrong one and fell through the attic. I never laughed so hard in all of my life. Me standing at the bottom of the stairs looking up at his legs dangling through the ceiling. Him yelling at me to get Pa. Me doubled over, tears streaming down my red face, trying my best to suck air back into my lungs. I thought I was gonna suffocate right there.  Finally, air seeping into my lungs just as Pa came to see what all the ruckus was about.

Times were tough. Dinner sometimes was just cornbread and buttermilk. I liked those nights the best. Filling my glass up with ice cold buttermilk. Then crumbling the freshly baked cornbread into it. After each spoonful, taking a bite out of a crisp green onion that I had just picked from the garden. Much better than the nights when we had poan bread and salmon patties. 

I didn’t like poan bread. I tolerated the salmon patties.

Saturdays were the best. Pa and I would go to visit Pa’s sister, Aunt Giddie. Her house smelt like dog piss, but she made the best turnip greens and macaroni salad I had ever eaten in my whole life. As soon as she would hear our car pull in the driveway, she would start fixing my plate. By the time I walked in the door, she would be saying, “There’s a plate on the table fer yee. Help yurself. The rest is on the stove”.

 Aunt Giddie didn’t get any visitors except on Saturdays when Pa and I went there. I didn’t really like Aunt Giddie, but if I went there, then she would always let me take an extra piece of chocolate pie home with me for later. Along with a big bowl of macaroni salad.

 I loved macaroni salad.

Some people called us poor. Others called us “white trash”. I didn’t mind because on Sundays I got to go exploring in the woods or fishing with Ma, and when we would get back, there was Aunt Giddie’s extra piece of chocolate pie waiting on me, and sometimes Ma would even make her homemade banana pudding.

Homemade banana pudding is my favorite. It's the only dish Ma knew how to make.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Is it Strange?Should I be concerned?

..that whenever I start setting up for dinner the cat goes and sits in "his spot"to the left of my husband and waits his turn to be "served"?

..or that if you open a bag of potato chips and he is within a 10 mile radius he will hear you and before you can eat the first chip he will appear out of nowhere and then rip the bag out of your hands and eat them all?

..or that if after ripping the bag of chips out of your hand he discovers they are "plain" instead of his favorite "hot n spicy" flavor he will leave the bag laying there spilled all over the floor and not eat any of them?

..or that when I am asleep he sits on my pillow beside my head waiting for me to wake up careful not to disturb me but occasionally just to check if I have woke up yet or not he will put his face less than 1/2 in from my face and STARE at me

..or that after he has been staring at me for about 5 mins like this I finally open my eyes to make him go away because he is freaking me out just to have him touch my shoulder with his paw and then suddenly run out of the room as if we had been playing a game of tag and he was waiting for me to wake up just to say "You're it".

.. or that whenever he is cleaning his rear paws sometimes he will hit himself in the face because he thinks the foot belongs to another cat?

..or that after he kicks himself he will bite the foot of the "other cat" in retaliation for kicking him in the face only to then kick himself again in the face because of the "other cat" who had just bitten his leg?

..or that his favorite toy is an old "fed ex" box that if we try to throw it out he goes out and brings it back just to sit inside of it and play with the "other cat"

..or that if you hold open a large plastic shopping bag, he will jump inside and if you don't swing him back and forth he will shout at you until you do

..or that when I go to the bathroom he insists upon coming too and if I don't let him in, he slides himself under the door only to then come and sit on my shoulder while I "take care of business"

..or that when I am trying to do something and he is extremely annoying and won't stop getting in my way, I go and start to pretend to set up as if we are about to have dinner so that he will go and sit in "his spot" for at least the next ten minutes and I can finish whatever it was I was doing

..or that I have used this method of distraction so often that now when I actually do set up for dinner he comes to kitchen just to "check" that I am actually about to bring dinner and only then will he go and remain seated in "his spot" and wait to be "served"

None of that is strange, is it? Nahh, I didn't think so either.

Linking up with Adventures in Mommyhood's Weekly  Sunday Funday

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Sugarplum Fairies

Sleep. It is something I very rarely do. When I do sleep, it isn't  because I feel sleepy. Often times I sleep because well it's been 27 hrs since the last time I slept so it just seemed the right to thing to do. Majority of the time when I do sleep it is often due to help from some OTC aid, but this lack of sleeping doesn't stop me from dreaming.

While most people dream when they are asleep, I dream while I am awake. I dream about a lost little girl sitting alone. Singing lullabies to her stuffed animals. Gently rocking them in the safe comfort of her arms. Even from a distance, I can see the sorrow etched across her soul. I find myself longing to know what she dreams of.

Does she even dream?
Does she ever long to be a ballerina or an astronaut?
Does she hope to be a doctor or  a teacher?

Even though her haunting eyes reveal so many things, they keep her dreams safely hidden. Far from the prying eyes of those who might steal them. They are her treasure. Hers and hers alone. Like a fierce warrior, she defends them. Protects them. They are her only possession.

Suddenly she looks up. She is aware of my presence. Aware of my watchful stare.

I wave to her, but frightened she disappears. Saddened by her sudden departure, I return to my own dreams. Hoping to find her there.

This was for the Studio 30+ writing prompt "Childhood Dreams"

Wanted: Used Car

This is for the writing prompt from TRDC "RemembeRed". The prompt this week was to Imagine you are meeting someone for the first time. You want to tell them about yourself.Instead of reciting a laundry list of what you do or where you're from, please give us a scene from your life that best illustrates your true self. "

“Where is he?,” I wonder aloud.  Teeth chattering between syllables. “He was suppose to be here five minutes ago. “
Headlights appear out of the darkness. I jump up from the park bench and strain my eyes to see if it’s him. “Finally,” I mutter.
Leb parks the car a few spaces down, jumps out. He has a friend with him. “Sorry for being late,” he says. “This is my friend, Joe. He drove me here,”
Joe extends his hand and says, “Hi.”
I quickly look from Leb to Joe, and stammer, “Sorry I don’t shake hands with men. It’s a religious thing.”
“Oh”, Joe says looking a bit embarrassed. “That’s right. Leb told me but I just forgot.”
“No problem,” I say. “I am use to it. Happens all the time.”
For a few seconds we all stand there in silence. Each waiting for the other to break the ice. Finally unable to bear the winter’s chill any longer I hand the keys to Leb. He was buying my mom’s old clunker . She had been trying to sell it for years.  I had managed to get her to come down a couple hundred on the price because it needed quite  bit of work done to it. However, it was well worth the $300.00 he was paying for it.  
“I can’t thank you enough for doing this,” Leb says. “Forget it,” I say. “It’s what we do for each other, right?”
“Does your mom know you’re the one who paid for the car?” he asks.
“No, she thinks the money came from you. It’s better this way. You can just pay me a $5 or $10 a month until you get it paid off. The title is already signed over to you though. This way you can get everything sorted out without any problems.”
“Thanks again,” Leb says. “I guess you will need a ride back to your place. You drove the car here right?”
“Yeah, but I will just get a cab or walk back or something,” I reply. I didn’t want to trouble him with having to drive me the 3 blocks back to my apartment, but a part of me secretly hoped he would insist, and he did.
Joe no longer being needed had already jumped back in his car and left. Leb got behind the driver’s wheel and I got in the back seat. This way there could be no confusion as to what would happen once we reached my place. An unspoken language that we both were fluent in.  Leb instantly understanding and not crossing the boundaries I had set.
When we reached my apartment, I got out. The night was dark. The security light had been broken by a couple of the neighbors kids. Unspoken understanding, Leb got out and walked me to the door. While I wasn’t his sister by blood, I was by faith. He waited till I was safely inside and the door locked. Then slowly he made his way back to his newly purchased clunker.
As I closed the door, I wondered if he would really repay all of the money. Little did I know I wouldn’t have to wonder for long. A few weeks later I would end up moving to another state. I would release him from our agreement.
“Consider it a gift,” I would explain by email. “Take care and be safe”, was his only reply. Nothing more was needed.  Even though we were basically strangers, we both understood the unspoken language that passed between us.
 “If not brothers by blood, then by faith. If not by faith, then by humanity”. This was the foundation of my faith.  I had based all of my life's decisions upon this one simple rule. It was etched across me like a tattoo. While I had kept much of who I was hidden from others, this one truth was written upon my soul and body for all to see.


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...