Thursday, March 14, 2013
Packing their tents and moving on
My dad used to tell me that Arabs pack up their tents and move on in the middle of the night. Perhaps years ago they did; Our camp took 2 days and a team of workers, 2 flatbeds and a crane to dismantle.
I feel like someone tore down my house. It is a horrible feeling. It is the end of the season and everything has to be moved, but it has been a really traumatic experience; maybe more so because Desert Guy and I broke up (again x3) at about the same time. (We got together again briefly and it was the happiest I've ever been with him, but very short-lived). Anyways, a whole lifestyle has been shifted and I'm feeling very unbalanced and out-of-sorts.
I know I'm not grounded when I unconsciously stop calling my mother for days at a time. She knows there is something wrong by the tone of my voice, so I avoid calling her. Not intentionally, but time passes.
I haven't felt like socializing. However, a dear friend asked if she could have her birthday party at my house and I agreed. I'm not so sure it was a good decision because (one reason but only part of it... read on....) my mood has been so bad that I was in no state to have visitors. I haven't entertained at my house since Thanksgiving and there was a reason for it. I hope everyone had a good time at her birthday. I think they did. It wasn't until a few days later, upon reflection, that I got really upset over it. I hope it hasn't ruined our friendship. Time will tell.
I've become best buddies with Desert Guy's cousin and close friend, Teddy (I'm going to call him that because when The Romanian and I first met him, we kept saying that he was a big teddy bear). He was, until recently, The Romanian's boyfriend. My friendship with Teddy annoys DGy to no end (The Romanian knows me and has encouraged our friendship); DGy is not happy with it (jealousy is a bad bad thing) and in some very childish and hurtful maneuvers, has communicated it to me in ways that vocal chords apparently can not. (Why can't people just talk? I don't get it.) The birthday party was just a culmination of events. By 3 am, I was alone in a tearful rage, burning Desert Guy's ghutara and aghal in a temper tantrum on my barbecue grill. He wasn't there (had left it behind). I sent him pictures on WhatsApp and then posted in on Instagram. Tee hee. I didn't know that aghals could burn so quickly. Who knew? Up in flames: quite dramatic and symbolic. (Yes, it felt really good. Don't judge me.)
This shit is all going into my book/film script later. You'll see.
I was left with an achy heart, an incredibly messy house and a flooded terrace, a ruined carpet and no leftovers in my refrigerator. Not a happy weekend por moi. 2 days of cleaning and disappointment. Calgon, get me the phuck out of here....
Due to my poor judgement (wanting to spend holidays with Desert Guy), New Years Eve sucked, Valentines Day sucked even more, National and Liberation Days weren't much better (only in that I wasn't with him). The next major event on my calendar is my birthday next month and I'm determined not to let it be sucky: I'm going back to Virginia for a little while to be with my family.
Pity Party moment: Like... no one is going to throw me a birthday party here and if they did, it would be at my house and I would end up hosting and cleaning. No thanks. Now, just so I'm not such a whiny coyote, complaining about negative things: Let's have some positive now....
I've been quietly visiting with old friends at discreet and remote locations. I've been effectively packing my own tent and moving on. I've been spending time with friends with horses and animals and a few with camps that are still up until the end of this month.
I spent last night at my friend's camp under the stars, laughing until an unreasonable hour and I was sure I wouldn't make it to work on time (although I did - nursing a hangover, but an Absolut-ly gooood one). I've known Bu Nawaf for 30+ years. He and my x-fiance are my oldest (longevity) friends in Kuwait (although the X doesn't keep in touch as well as Bu Nawaf has over the years. BN says, "People change," and they do. My x used to be my very very very best friend in the whole world and I thought that nothing would ever break up our friendship. People change. Bu Nawaf has managed to stay in touch and is always there if I need a shoulder or just to recharge the positive energy batteries. He's the kind of guy who could call after 10 years of not seeing him, and we would pick up right where we had left off.
This weekend, I'll be back in Kabd visiting other old friends. Bu Khalaf has his diwaniya and yet again - I'm the only female allowed. I love being one of the guys but being a girl at the same time. His friends are all religious and there are even a few mullas in the mix. We talk about cars; our common ground. They go to pray together and then return and make chai 7alib. Bu Khalaf would rather be with his old buddies and his animals than in the city; although he lives only a few short blocks from my house. I go to his farm, hang out with him and the guys, look at the goats and walk around while the weather is still good. I go home and sleep well.
I have new friends with horses. I think that animals are my grounding element at the moment. Although this will all change when it is 150 degrees outside. I might find the grounding hard at that temperature. It suits for now.
and then on to the next thing.