Category: Home (to me)

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I got a new keyboard

Actually, I took my supervisor’s keyboard because mine is somehow broken, and I thought I would write as new keyboards excite me. I like writing with new keyboards; I like seeing/feeling my fingers typing on new key letters.

This is the weirdest thing to be so excited about, but it is what it is.

When I move to Venice, the first things I will get are a typewriter, a gramophone, and a mattress. I’ve dreamt of typing in a typewriter for so long, might as well have one in my little one-room apartment on the Grand Canal.

Today’s weather is an absolute beauty. It’s raining, and it’s cold, and my mood drastically improved due to the aforementioned. The idea of summer in a month or two is absolutely killing me.

What else? Well, I’m pleased with work these days, and I’m very much happy with my colleagues. They’re fun to be around and, ten months later, I finally broke from my social anxiety, and I’m comfortable with being myself and talking without saying absolute nonsense. (yey me!)

I can see the sun trying to shine behind the clouds, but even that won’t disrupt how I’m feeling; I know today is a rainy day, so it can try to shine as much as it wants, it’ll still be gloomy. I have a new keyboard, and I was just given a fun task to finish, and I’m drinking my caramel latte and thinking of lunch, and I’m listening to a really homey song, and I’m doing well.

The fun task is basically compiling publications and sorting them out as per date of publication, name, and branding, and I am absolutely excited to do it. Do you have any idea how grounding sorting and organizing make me feel? For the past week two weeks, I’ve been sorting all kinds of HR/procurement and donor reporting files, and I feel so content with my work.

Next week is a bit scarily exciting. I have two long field visits with a colleague of mine I only began to like and a little bit of extra pressure and expectation, and one of them is in Tripoli, so that means two hours ride in a diplomatic car with colleagues, so hoping for the best.

For now, I have to go back to my sorting. Thank you for reading this absolutely meaningless post (more meaningless than my usual posts)

Also, NOUR STOP BUYING SO MANY CLOTHES WHEN YOU’RE BARELY GOING OUTSIDE AND WHEN YOU ALREADY HAVE MORE THAN YOU NEED.

I needed to hear this.

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I hope to lose myself for good

sometimes ignorance

rings true

but hope is not in

what I know

it’s not in me..me

it’s in You, it’s in You

You by Switchfoot

When did we become so grownup? So old and responsible?

When did we become so grown up that we started being responsible for our own life, and the lives of others? When did we start taking care of my parents, when all we ever knew was them taking care of us?

How did we grow so old in a heartbeat, making our own money and shopping for groceries for the house? When did we come so old that we are paying for vegetables and shampoo with our own money?

We grew up, even though we didn’t want to, even though we were not ready. We grew up, and nobody asked us if we’d like to take all these responsibilities or remain safe in our beds on a Sunday morning, not thinking of what to cook for our dependents, not getting worked up for laundry day.

I’m not saying it was easy, or fun, or happy, but it was just not as hard. Our problems were a “me” problem, and not the whole world carried on our shoulders. Or it just me? I never know.

I’m listening to You by Switchfoot, and it’s one of my ‘nostalgia’ songs. I was 15, and I just broke my leg on a snow day the first day of 2013, and I watched A Walk To Remember. I thought that the movie is good, but not one of my personal best, but I got You by Switchfoot from it, and You was on repeat for a year. When I wanted to sleep, I would listen to it as a lullaby.

I downloaded my Twitter archives a week ago, and I’ve been looking at all those pictures, all those memories I’ve forgotten, and the rush of nostalgia has made my heart so, so, heavy. I searched the whole house for one of the shirts that were my favorites when I was 16, and I’ve been wearing it for a few days. As if wearing it would make all the responsibilities go away.

Anyway, here are some memories that might not make much sense to you, but I hope you can feel them.

Beqaa at 5am.
The first rainy day on the last school year
This was more of a bi-weekly outing with people who were the closest to me. I cannot believe I was underweight at that time, because sometimes we would add to that mix waffles. We were a group of eight, and we would spend most of our nights at our friend’s house. Now, the only people who are still in my life are two of them. (thank you for all the memories)
Bkassine walk. It was a warm day in September and it was so peaceful.
I was all alone that night, talking to my back-then favorite person and feeling so loved.
Saturday mornings
I don’t think I appreciated this beauty enough back then.
My favorite days were when I would write my story on our village balcony. Songs I was probably listening to: shesmovedon by Porcupine Tree and Polyamorous by Breaking Benjamin
My teta was probably sitting next to me, offering me grapes.
It wasn’t a beach day without our turkey and cheese sandwiches.
This day was hard on me. My anxiety levels were so high that I had to get out of the car and walk home from school. When I got home I skyped my back-then favorite person, and all my anxiety went away.
Yes, I played the Kim Kardashian game. Here is me with Kim.
When I was 16, I had taphophile; a major interest in graves and cemeteries. I would spend quite some time searching photos like the above, and I would visit my grandpa’s grave on a weekly basis. (I was never that sane).
I was too afraid to wash my hands. Too afraid it would fade away.
That week was the very first week I practically lived independently. My best friend’s family was out of the town so we had the house to ourselves.
Reading the Fault In Our Stars, and crying for three days after. (also: that was my favorite Christmas holiday)
I think we can all relate to the serenity of this. We all had our moments at the “waterfront”.
This was the only spot in our village house that we had wifi in. I remember that night, vaguely.
Why did I ever have those gloves and why don’t think still exit?
This weekend is still one of my favorite weekends.

I know I’m making no sense, but all those were perfect moments to me. Oh what I would do to live in a moment.

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I want to live again

Just give me
Your wild young heart
Let me borrow it 
Just for a while


Let me be a teenager again
Experience what's like to be careless and free
Free of commitments 
Of responsibilities 
Of the person I don't want to be 


Give me a one night on a cliff
Holding sparklers and running around
Dancing to the loud music
Feeling the breeze
Feeling what's like to live in a moment


Leave me someplace I was never in
With a memory I never lived
With an experience I never wanted 
With a person I never met
Give me the chance to live again


Let me borrow your love of life
Your teenage blues
Your sunset cruises
Your red lipstick and your waterproof mascara
Your happy eyes and genuine smile
Give me back the feeling that everything is okay
Because we are living now
And tomorrow will never be


Give me your young serenity 
The long days at the beach
The long hours of swimming in cold pools
The long hours of tanning on a lava sand
The sunburnt skin and the red slippers
Give me back a day where it was okay
To live


Take me back to a time 
We drank colored frappe 
And avoided grown up black coffee
We ate greasy burgers
And laughed at people who order salads 


Take me back to the first text
The first smile
The first touch
The first hug
The first warmth
The first time we felt alive


Give me your young life
Just for a day
Let me breathe again
Let me feel like I exist solely 
To dance
To sing
To laugh
To love
To live
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Alone I am with the mirk, my sorrows, and my confusion

A dusky night, an everlasting rain, a seraphic touch, and your voice humming to the red Betelgeuse in the Orion.

It was only the night and I, and the tears in my eyes, all my loved ones slept, why didn’t you sleep too? Everybody slept, and you were still awake. I looked at the sky, and the Betelgeuse was still awake; I asked it what’s wrong? Why are you still awake? I heard it said: “The rhythm of the humming enchants me; I am in love.”

I am lost, my friends. I hope my voice reaches you; I hope it tells you how much I feel, maybe that’ll lead your way back. I hope it tells you you changed me, you confused me.

Was it just the hum that swept me off my feet? It was breathtaking. It’s been a while, and I’m still humming it and closing my eyes to see it, to see your deep voice with the light shudder and the cold breath.

We talked for hours, and I put my hand on my chin and listened without any interruption for hours. Remember?

Forgive me, but I can’t remember anything you said, I wasn’t listening. I was too distracted by the way you were talking, the way you smirk with every sordid detail, and how your nose twitches when you’re talking about something morbid, and your eyes, God, your eyes. I can’t remember what color they are; I remember they were my favorite color in the world.

I wish I can save your hum in a frame and carve at the bottom: here lies the humming of my darling abyss; so melancholy yet so divine. I could draw it if you let me, I could draw the way your voice fades, and then chirp a little like a nightingale.

Was it twilight? Or was it night? I can’t remember, you were sitting in front of me with crossed legs and talking, how can I notice anything else? And then, at one point, as we sipped our hot coffee and then looked at the skyline, you started humming the ever-most stunning hum, so beguiling that it could be mistaken for a hymn.

And I’m still stuck there at that one moment past 9 pm on a gelid night, looking at the skyline, but the only thing I saw was your warmth beside me. I closed my eyes because it was so beautiful, your warmth, it was so beautiful that I didn’t want any view to distract me from it.

I’m stuck at a hum.

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A little randomness

It’s been quite around here.

We’re 24 days into 2021, and I haven’t even begun to write any 2021 resolutions, or check any of the simple tasks I had in mind, or even begin to think of how my days post lockdown will look like. Is it going to the same? Is it everchanging?

I feel like, for now, I am floating, and not necessarily in a good way, but not necessarily in a bad way either. It’s as if I am walking on a light cloud, and the only thing that is keeping me from falling is pure luck, or maybe the big guy has more important things to deal with that he’s letting me wobble around for a while.

I’ve had a serene week, away from the hustle of the city and the people and the empty streets, and close to the people dearest to my heart. This is now considered a usual, an addictive getaway that, if lost, will hurt so much. I watched the first snow of the year, and I felt the warmth radiating from my people as we snuggled next to the chimney, laughing at everything and nothing in particular.

I think this has been said already here and outside of here, but what would I do to live in a moment. I wouldn’t want to repeat the whole day, just one moment out of it all, one moment when it was too idyllic to think of horrid or the bleak little somebody living in me. Is that how heaven is? Letting us relive our happiest moment over and over and over, with the same mindset and bliss?

But… I’ve been overthinking; I’ve been overthinking a lot. I can’t say this week was similar to the others, I can’t say I was similar to the person I was, and it weirded me out, to be honest. There was something off about how I anticipated my surroundings and the way I felt about everything. Could it be that, as always, the closeness suffocated me? Or could it be that we weren’t close enough?

I’m not sure.

I do know that I need to sort some things out, put some new rules and regulations to myself so I stop repeating all my previous experiences because honestly, this is getting ridiculous. I can’t continue living the same events every time.

Hope you’re having a good Sunday.

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NEO Gourmet is where you’ll find me

Let me tell you about the last pastry shop I visited. On my first day back to work, I promised myself that I would wake up an hour earlier and walk to the pastry shop to try almost everything they have, then walk back to the office.

It’s a tiny bakery/pastry shop located in a quiet neighborhood in Beirut. The pastry shop is called NEO Gourmet, attributing it to “Nelson, Edward, and Oliver,” Nada’s (the owner) sons. On the day of the explosion, Nada was in the shop with Freddie, her husband, when everything fell on their heads. She thought that Freddie was dead as the blood on the floor was enough for her to think the worst.

Five months later, NEO Gourmet reopened with the same warmth but less enthusiasm as the destruction and trauma remain, even if not visible. Nonetheless, the aroma of the fresh bread and choco-flakes are stronger than the smell of pain. Actually, it’s more of ‘pain’ au lait. (this is the worst pun ever, I’m so sorry)

Can you imagine more pastry shops like this in Lebanon? It’s not your normal cute coffee shops, because believe me, I know. It’s similar to the ones you see in Christmas movies and movies shot in small and unrealistic towns.

I feel intrigued about making this my new scavenger hunt for 2021, hunting down small and unknown pastry shops, to my thighs’ despair. I’m still thinking, still contemplating what’s more important to me, insanely lukewarm pastry shops or a nice light number on the scale.

I love these little pastries so much, and I plan on visiting one coffee shop and one pastry shop in every country I travel to in the future, especially the European ones. There is a certain culture in these brown little shops with their bitter coffee and cheap croissants; there is certain heaven in foreign creme patisserie and glorious frames decorating the walls.

For today, I will settle for having NEO Gourmet as my new to-go spot, the one I seek for safety. For tomorrow, let it be a little coffee shop in Europe, Eastern Europe, where time stopped a few decades ago in the poverty of communism and little match girls.

I’m feeling quite warm, do you?

If you know any pastry shop similar to the one I described (and is in the cover photo), do tell me about it, maybe we can go together? I’m not sure I have a comment section here, but you can always reach out to me anywhere; I’m easy to reach and 65% responsive.

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Merry Christmas

I wanted to finish and publish the posts that I have started but didn’t finish, and I found this written on Christmas day. So I have no idea why I didn’t finish it, but I don’t think I can finish it now, as I am not feeling the same bliss I did back then. Sharing, nonetheless:

It’s Christmas, people; it’s that time of year where everything is so Godly and beautiful, and all the other things fade away. It’s Christmas; I hope you’re having a merry one.

I just painted my nails black, and I have my heating pad warming my freezing feet, and I’m still listening to the same songs I was listening to while I was car cruising an hour ago, and I’m so in love with this world.

It’s not a feeling of apathy, and it’s not fear, it’s just

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Today is kind of those days, the mystic ones

Hi there,

I just noticed that I haven’t posted anything here for four days, not sure why. Life, I guess?

Update on Thursday; it was a really good day. It’s always a good day when I’m out of the office and doing more fieldwork and seeing the people we are impacting; it’s the breather I truly needed.

Have I ever mentioned to you how much I love visiting the houses of people? Walking in their things, getting the chance to see life in their shoes, getting to hear their stories through their little bookshelves or that one chair they sit in.

Especially if it’s someone you love, it becomes more of “wow, I want to meet their mum, I want to see the littlest thing that indicates they were here, I want to hear and see and touch everything that has anything to do with them.”

Anyway.

I got to be part of the Christmas of four families over the weekend. How beautiful is that? I got to decorate their tree, wash their dishes, set up the table, the lights; I got to talk to them, I got to listen to their stories.

There is nothing more wonderful than people, than being there to people that need you. I don’t see it as selfless because it’s so rewarding; being there for people, it brings more peace than we might even deserve.

I’m in so much peace right now. The wind is cold and brushing my cheeks delicately, and I’m wearing my wool jacket and waiting for the sunset—song on repeat: Si Je Perds – ZAZ. I am in a whole different world; I am so mystic that you can’t reach me.

Two of my friends dreamt of me this week; one dreamt that I was some kind of a manager, and the other dreamt that he visited me in my “castle” using my helicopter because my castle can’t be reached except by a helicopter.

Lol. I love my friends, and I love the way they see me. They think so highly of me even though I am the worst in this friends life, I have a hard time committing to people, and I often am too much of everything that I can go on for weeks without talking to them. I can take them for granted a lot, and then when I lose them, I get upset because I loved their existence in my life, but I’m, I don’t know.

I was apologizing to my friend, who I love so much and who now lives in Canada, because I always promise her to call and I never do, and she said something that I’m still thinking of.

“You are a free spirit; you don’t like to be bounded or put in any frame; you like to stay free, flying outside the cage, and landing whenever you want. To be bounded by a friend and having to ask about them? Being put in that photo frame of happy friends? I can’t imagine how bounding that could make me feel.”

That kind of made sense, a lot. The only thing I’m not so sure of is being a free spirit, even though I get called that a lot. I am more structured than I like to be, and I can be so uptight in so many different ways, but yes, do not put me in any frame, and if I asked to be left alone or wanted my personal space, you better give me that.

There are still 4 minutes till sunset, but I’m not sure I’ll get to see it; there are a lot of clouds, and the only thing I could see for now is a tiny light behind the many many clouds. That’s okay; I could still feel the sunset, the “give me your pain, all your pain, let it set with me” feeling I get during sunsets.

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I finished my coffee challenge and I’m happy about it

Hello.

This is me getting back on my coffee challenge for this week. I finished it, and I loved it because 1) it helped me finish tasks I should’ve finished weeks ago in the areas where the coffee shops are, and 2) I got to drink coffee.

I’ll be breaking down the list of coffees I tried this week; the story behind the coffee shop, and the coffee itself, but before all of that, I have a few disclaimers to start with:

Disclaimer #1 my knowledge of coffee is zero. I love drinking diverse coffee, but I have no academic background in anything coffee-related, and I don’t find myself appreciating high-end coffee; I only know that Ethiopean black coffee is an amazing energy boost because my waiter friend at my old favorite coffeeshop (now closed) would tell me; “looks like you’re staying here for a while, let me get you an Ethiopian black coffee to stay awake.”

I’m just a very coffee drinker enthusiast, and I love trying all kinds of coffee. Thereby, my feedback is purely based on illiteracy and my love for coffee shops and the aforementioned.

Disclaimer #2 I’m not sure yet, but I might have missed the blissful sparkle I was feeling last week, but I’m not sure yet. I know that having Black and Breaking The Habit on repeat isn’t a good sign, but I’ll try to keep this as cheerful or neutral from whatever I’m feeling as possible.

Day 1; Starbucks

First things first, no, I don’t love Starbucks for its glamour; I genuinely love their coffee, I genuinely find it so good. My favorite is Caramel Macchiato, and it’s absolutely addictive, much to my pocket’s despair.

Any notable story: Just one. It was back in June of this year, and it was during my 4 days anxiety blackouts. I left home at 6 pm on terrible terms, and I had work outside of Beirut, and I could not stop crying all the way. When I finished, it was already 9pm, and I knew I could not go back home.

I waited 30mins until I found a car, with 3 men inside, that agreed to get me to a place close to Beirut. They let me ride with them until I found a bus, which took me to a place close to a Starbucks. Not having anything to eat since morning, I got myself a Caramel Macchiato and walked another 30mins to my best friend’s old abandoned house that I had the keys to (I spent the night there, but that’s a story for another time). I felt like death, and the only warmness was my coffee, so thank you, @starbucks (sponsor me, will ya?).

Day 2; Concierge

Concierge is a cute little coffee shop in Badaro, with a very cozy interior and perfect quietness for studying/working remotely. I had Caramel Macchiato, which tasted good, but not how I remember it used to taste like.

Any notable story: Concierge was the last place I went out to before the March COVID-19 lockdown. I had happy moments there, but they need to brew their coffee the way they used to.

Day 3; Backburner

The reason why I chose Backburner is to try a new coffee shop that has been on my list for a while. I tried their Spanish Latte; it’s good; the coffee is a bit intense but in a pleasant way, but it was way too sweet, which I later discovered is one of the specialties for Spanish Latte.

Any notable story: Not much, but I met our head of office’s husband there, so that was a bit awkward. I also tried out their chocolate chip cookie, which was INSANELY expensive, and I regretted not asking for its price before I bought it.

The size of my overly expensive cookie. Look at the size.

Day 4; B Hive

B Hive might be the busiest coffee shop in all of Beirut, maybe as crowded as Sip. I love their B Hive Latte, and I love their friendly waiters, who I for sure find more common topics with than the husband of my head of office.

Any notable story: old B Hive, the one in a building with a small nice garden and a snug upstairs studying area, was my to-go studying coffeeshop at university because it was quiet and because my friend liked it. I don’t get how people still can study and work in it now with all the crowding and buzz.

Day 5; a coffee from a street espresso

We all know this only tastes good when we are cold, thirsty, hungry, or not feeling okay. I personally love it a lot when they don’t overdo it with Coffee-Mate and condensed milk.

Any notable story: I never enjoyed street coffee until 3ammo Abu Mohammad, our coffee guy from FoodBlessed’s office. He might be more home to us than our actual homes, went through so much with us, so many days where we ate nothing and only drank his coffee. “It’s 3000 LBP for everyone, but it’s 2500 LBP for you,” he tells us every time. (It’s 2500 LBP for everyone)

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I started university today

You know it’s an overthinking kind of night when I’m listening tghayarti by el far3i. And not only because I think this is the most beautiful song ever made, but because I genuinely cannot listen to it without reminiscing.

I’m going through a lot of emotions, and they’re not necessarily bad ones, but they are a lot to fathom and absorb. I started caring again, and even though at times it makes me feel most alive, there are other times where I regret it. Caring for people only makes me vulnerable, and it’s not a color I like on me.

It’s funny how this world works, strange how different we are and how bizarre our lives might be, yet are all linked through eerie pretense of interdependency and social integrations.

I started my second BA today, and even though I could not attend any of my classes, it feels good to be back learning. Even though I would love nothing more than to exist in a university atmosphere and the excitement of still being a learner and observant of the later-on life, I know it is not possible.

Yet, I’m an optimist. I feel a certain ego of knowing so many things and being in so many places yet still learning the basics of social sciences and the methodologies of calculating demographies.

I’m not a study-type of person, I never studied as much as I should, and it’s not something I am proud of, but it’s also not something I was capable of doing. Even though I went through four years of university and 15 years of school, I never had an “overnight”. It’s not that my major didn’t require studying, because I know that most of my friends spent so many nights awake trying to study the hundreds of pages we were asked to memorize. But I never did.

I am not a study-type of person, but I am a learner. I love learning, I love people teaching me new stuff, and I would never skip an opportunity to learn about culture and history and the philosophical theories of being.

I may have a bad habit of wanting to know everything about everything, which is unfortunate as knowing everything leads to knowing little of every topic but never in-depth enough to discuss. Nevertheless, I still aspire to someday know everything about everything.

Even though my classes conflict with my working hours, I hope to attend a few classes. I attended the first 30 minutes of my demography class this morning, which was funny because our professor was a typical red-headed Lebanese University professor with tattooed eyebrows and a flattering red lipstick.

And even though one of the students had themselves unmuted and her baby was heard crying all the way to my supervisor’s office, and the professor freaked out because “why are you holding your baby in the middle of a class!” and a member of the student council introduced her to the gift of “mute all,” it felt like home.

What else?

Well, today, I woke up with morning anxiety, which was a first in three weeks. This morning, I realized that I hadn’t had morning anxiety in three weeks, which was the first time in I don’t know how many years.

What happened that even morning anxiety was gone, and why did it return today? I keep asking myself, and I might know the answer, but I don’t think I’ll tell you. I can tell you that a big reason behind my sudden tranquility is for sure due to the beautiful winter and due to the fact that Christmas is soon.

Also, I just started watching The Queen’s Gambit (thanks to bands for recommending!), and so far, I like it. I haven’t watched a good series since Brooklyn Nine-Nine, and it felt nice to escape reality for a few hours.

What else? I’ve been eating so much unhealthy, and I am very not proud of myself. I have also been drinking coffee a lot, which I know I will regret very soon. I was raised to stand against anything that is unhealthy and unsafe for my body, and the fact that I am eating so much chocolate and sweets every day makes me very wary.

Also, it’s Christmas soon.

I hope you’re doing well yourself.