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| I'm not sure what triggers it exactly. But you go through the day unaware, until you realize. You are alone. At first it doesn't upset you. In fact, you enjoy the solitude. You enjoy the fact that nobody is bothering you. You like the peace, the quiet. But suddenly there is something that's tugging at your insides, begging you to seek companionship. A deep sort of ache. There's an overwhelming sadness, but you can't quite put your finger on it. Maybe its because you see everybody around you who seems to be happy. You don't want to intrude on their happiness. You feel that if you do, you will just ruin things for them. But inside, you are yelling, "Ask me what's wrong! Please listen to me. Just be there for me. Acknowledge me. Tell me I exist." But when you try to get their attention they don't even meet you in the eye. Their gaze just slips past your face, looking for something else that will satisfy their needs. You clearly do not. And you cannot bring yourself to yell out because once again you don't want to disturb their world of happiness. So you laugh at the appropriate time and act like nothing is wrong. But even when you're laughing a facade, nobody notices and you can't figure out why. Was it your fault that you've become a wallflower? You're sitting there crouched against a corner, wishing somebody would ask you why you're acting the way you are, why you aren't normal. But nobody does. Nobody pays attention. And the loneliness just won't go away. And you feel yourself drift away.
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I once read a book where the narrator (Some teenage girl, and I cannot remember the book's name either) said how disgusting it was that adults called having sex, "making love".
She proceeded to describe how it was in the first place, awkward for her parents to talk to her about it, but to go ahead and use a euphemism instead of the actual action...
But I don't really see what's wrong with the term "making love". And actually, now the more that I think about it, there is a difference. A huge one.
When I think about sex, it is just the act. The act of taking ones clothes off, sticking a penis in a vagina (or a butthole, if you're gay) and having a one-night stand. One just to get on, experience the short-term pleasure, then get off. That's sex to me.
Making love. Well, it seems different to me. It is more than just the act of taking off one's clothes, and sticking a penis in a vagina (Or... you know if you're gay...). Yes, it is about pleasure, but it is about a long term pleasure. Its a private secret only you and your partner share. Like a smile or a glance that only lasts for a second, but it is still a moment. It isn't only about experiencing a sexual desire for yourself. Its about pleasing the other person. And it isn't only limited to sex. Its about curling up into each other's arms. Its about holding hands while walking, or hugging them from behind. Its about learning to accept each other's faults, and look at them as even more unique because you realize that what doesn't make them perfect, just makes them even more perfect. Its about discovering new things, things that most people don't know about him or her. Really? She likes it when you kiss her wrist? Really? He enjoys it when you play with his hands? She prefers hard pillows. He prefers eating his cereal without milk.
Making love is a process that just keeps going on. To me, its just spending time with him or her. That's what making love is.
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| For some odd reason, I found myself watching shows I used to watch when I was younger (I'd still watch them today, if only they came on! Cartoons nowadays are just terrible :\)
It got me thinking. Usually whenever I pick a favorite character, the character usually is green, or its "color" is green. I mean, I know I like the color, but I never really paid attention to them when it came to watching shows. I'm not even sure why I like the color green or what it means about me, I just like it. Its a pretty sound color. But maybe I unconsciously WAS picking out characters based on their color, or what they wore. Cases in point:
Teen Titans - Out of the five superheroes my favorite was definitely Beast Boy, followed closely by Raven and then Starfire. He was pretty funny, and his super power was pretty awesome (I wish I could shape shift into green animals!)
 I've also never met a guy whose vegan. But it didn't stop there. Another favorite show of mine was (and still is) The Powerpuff Girls. I think three little kindergartners who save Townsville before bedtime makes a pretty awesome show. My favorite character there was Buttercup. The tomboy. Out of the three, I think I related to her the most. She was tough, and never acted like a girl. Kind of like me at the time. :\  In case you didn't know, she was the "spice" in the "sugar, spice and everything nice" ingredients. That wasn't the only favorite green character of mine. I also used to watch Totally Spies! too. Yes I know. It was probably my guiltiest pleasure at the time. Even there I picked out the "green" character. I despised Clover - She was everything I was not. In real life, Clover was one of those people I probably would've beat up, sorry to say. :\ And it sucked because usually she was the "leader" (The leader was usually the character standing in the middle of all the rest of the "team" or characters). I liked Alex, but she was really clumsy, and she had nothing to offer to the group except funny lines and lucky breaks - kind of like Shaggy in Scooby Doo, you know, catching the culprit by accident? That was Alex. She was pretty stupid too... But Sam had long hair - Something I wanted at the time, but only in theory (I cannot manage long hair) and she was really smart. She was the brains of the group. She was also, by coincidence, wearing green.  Yay, smart, mature, and redheaded (Actually most redheads I know in real life aren't that pretty...) She also didn't have an annoying voice like AHEM Clover :| Even in Pokemon! When the first 150 (Or was it 151? I always forget -_-) Pokemon came out, I adored Bulbasaur before I realized its attack strength sucked (The only thing good about it was its special, which were all leech seed, mega drain, vine whip, and razor leaf. And even then your rival could own with Charizard, because Charizard, as everybody knows, has the greatest attack strength ever, PLUS he's fire. Yes, I still remember all this mmk? shaddup.) I eventually graduated to Squirtle being my favorite because Charmander's so overpicked, and Squirtle can beat Charmander, and Bulbasaur sucks as a Pokemon anyway. But I was first and foremostly drawn to Bulbasaur as a Pokemon, and in the Gold and Silver versions, Chikorita WAS my favorite (This was because everybody predictably picked Cyndiquil, and Totodile was kind of ugly) . Was it a coincidence that they were green? I THINK NOT! Actually, I'm not sure.
But it didn't even stop there. Now that I think about it in the Mario Party games, I always used to pick Yoshi. Then I stopped because my cousin was drawn to Yoshi and started picking Peach instead. And I used to prefer Luigi over Mario (But maybe it was because Luigi was more skinny and taller...)
Was it destiny though? Was it? Was it? I can't really be sure. I just thought it was weird and wanted to share it with you. :\ That's how boring my summer has been, really.
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| Or at least, it was mine. I've always had bad experiences in public bathrooms. I can only count two instances really, that made me scared of them.
In Pre-K, the worst thing you could do was go into the opposite sex's bathroom (Why exactly did they have a girl's room and a boy's room anyway? There were no urinals in the guy's bathroom, and I doubt anybody got their period when they were 4 or 5). Which was exactly why PJ, nasty kid that he was, dared me to go into the boy's bathroom, with the lights closed for two whole minutes.
Here's the deal. Me and PJ really hated each other. He'd make fun of my hair because well... It was up in a palm tree (I totally blame my mom!) I tried looking for a picture, but I'm not exactly sure what the style's called. But basically all the girls in my grade had longer hair, and I had... Well, a boy cut! I guess that was another reason. But anyway, I hated his guts because he was blond, obnoxious, and kind of had that Macaulay Culkin look going on... Which made him look really prissy and girly. So I guess he made fun of me because I didn't act or look like a girl, and I made fun of him because he didn't look or act like a boy. Weird.
So quite obviously, I couldn't and wouldn't refuse a dare like that, even if I was scared of the dark. I would never back out on a dare coming from him! So I said yes, confidentally.
"Don't do it!" Aamna begged, but a group of kids crowded around the restroom, interested, and it was too late to back out with all of them watching.
"Ready?" PJ cracked a malicious smile.
He opened the door and pushed me in and came in too. I didn't know he was coming in! That was not part of the deal. This made it worse. Great. I couldn't even be scared properly now. It was really dark in the bathroom too. I rocked my heels back and forth. How long was two minutes anyway. More importantly, did PJ even know how long two minutes was? Because I certainly didn't know.
"Scared yet?" he sneered. I jumped. He sounded closer to me than I thought.
"N-No..." I lied. He heard the waver in my voice and laughed. Then he grabbed my arm and that's when I started screaming. No way would I let that kid touch me!
Apparently my blood curdling screams were heard by Mrs. Ansari, my teacher. She opened the door, and demanded, "What's going on here?!"
Instantly PJ adopted the priss attitude he always wore. "Mrs. Ansari, Mariam walked in on me." Sheesh! What a liar!
"With the lights off?" Mrs. Ansari raised her eyebrows. She was a very smart woman. "You are not having any recess, both of you."
I was annoyed to say the least. Stupid dare. Stupid PJ. Stupid kids staring at me. Stupid Mrs. Ansari. Stupid bathroom.
The second most traumatizing event involving bathrooms that I had was in 1st Grade. Me and my friend April went to go fetch jump ropes for recess and on the way, I had to take a piss. Real bad. So we stopped at the bathroom next to the principal's office. Nobody ever uses that bathroom, but I was desperate, so we both entered, and April waited, while I used one of the stalls. After I was finished washing my hands and stuff, I went to open the door.
But it was jammed.
"It wont open," I announced.
"You're joking," April laughed nervously.
"No I'm not," I grunted and pushed my weight against the door. It budged a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of an inch. No joke. April came to help. It would not budge. Stupid door!
We started yelling, praying that somebody passing by would hear us.
"Help! We're inside! Somebody save us! We're going to die!" But the door was made of metal and it was very heavy.
Finally, I gave up and sank against the wall and started crying. I started praying, asking for forgiveness. I'm sorry that I lied to you Mom, about doing my homework. I'm sorry I told you that I wanted to stab you in the back Ahad. I'm sorry I called you bossy, Iman. I'm sorry I told Ms. Lima about your crush on her, Ben. I'm sorry I cheated off of you, Alex, I just don't know my multiplication tables that well.
April began to cry too, but she didn't give up. Finally, she backed up, and rammed her shoulder against it. The door opened.
"That was so close," April said. She breathed a sigh of relief and started massaging her shoulder.
"We could have starved," I said. "And nobody would've known." I loved being dramatic.
"Well, we could've survived for some time. There was water," April reminded me.
I think we got in trouble that time too. Because by the time we got back class time had already started and Ms. Lima was furious that we skipped recess. She wasn't convinced about us almost dying, but honestly, who skips recess on purpose?
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| I probably had one of the most heated arguments with my dad over the subject of polygamy. It started off innocently enough... Actually, I don't even remember how it started. All I remember was that we were discussing it in a nice enough tone until he said this: "Mariam, I'm going to tell you the wisest advice a father could ever give."
"What is that?" I asked, completely oblivious. If I knew the next words he was going to say, I would've put cotton in my ears and made sure I didn't hear them.
"If your husband wants to take on another wife you should agree to it, and not divorce him and not cause trouble for him."
Okay, WTF. That was seriously the biggest WTF moment for me ever. I stared at him, shocked, disbelieving. And then that's when the explosion started. I'm not even kidding. We had this argument around the house. At one point I went upstairs to calm myself down, but it did not work.
Because honestly what kind of craptacular advice is that? Aren't fathers supposed to teach their daughters to stand up for themselves? The truth is, I hate the idea of polygamy, or polyandry, or whatever you want to call it. I would rather be a bitter, divorced woman with five kids without any child support, than have my husband married to another woman. And that's big. Divorce is another taboo term in my boat.
Islam says that you're allowed to have up to four wives, but only one is preferred. This is because you're supposed to treat all your wives equally. YA RITE. That's never going to happen, so that's why they say one is preferred. The reason why that rule is there though, is because usually there's always a surplus of girls and in the past not getting married was the worst thing that could happen to them because their parents would have to provide for them until they died or whatever. And plus, girls aren't really supposed to live alone because its easier to get raped and stuff. So really, when you take on another wife, it shouldn't be because you fell in love with her (or in lust with her; I think that's more fitting) it should be for another practical reason. And if you marry your second, third, or fourth wife for a practical reason, and your first one for love (or in a different order), you wouldn't be treating your wives equally, now would you?
 "I couldn't be faithful to one woman, so now I'm faithful to all of them!" Honestly though, is it so much to ask for? Why is it so hard to stay in one committed relationship? If you see an attractive woman (or man in the case of polyandry), and you think you might hit it off, why even go there?
I know, I sound like some jealous person, but I cannot stand thinking about him sleeping with another woman. I'm NOT okay with that. And you know what? In my book, its just as bad as cheating, because that's really what it is. You're cheating on your spouse by taking on another wife/husband, except for the fact that its out there in the open, and the other woman or man is now sharing your family. Sharing to me is definitely not caring. I'm not sharing my husband with anyone, and if he doesn't think my opinion matters... To-da-loo mothafuckaaaa!
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