Yay! I finally have something interesting to blog about.

So now that my class teaching days are over, I no longer have to struggle with division, conjections and ill-bred kids. I am still a teacher, though working in my field of expertise. ART!

The Art Department in our school is just SUPER. The kids learn how to use all things crafty, messy, artsy and unique. We do anything art related. Oil paint, sculpting, sewing, crafting, candle making..anything that pops in our head really! The best part is the giant storage that has everything needed for any art project. Old soda cans, toilet tubes, pastel colors, newspapers, paint, wood boards, fabrics, buttons, foam, cardboard, crystal beads, gold paper, dry food, magazine cut outs, millions of brushes, a hundred types of glue, and a giant Iron Man made out of aluminum foil and silver paper tubes that was used for the Wizard of Oz play.

Art heaven really, just walking into that store house was enough to inspire me for months to come, and I thought inspiration was long gone!

We are currently working on this project:

http://alphamom.com/family-fun/holidays/snow-globe-soap/

I'm so excited.

End.

Photos from the Chinese Cultural Center

My reset buttons save me from misery.

If I'm having a horrific day. If I'm feeling down... these things have been serving as my reset buttons for a long time now. It's amazing what simple things in life can do to your mood.

The Bubble Bath:

The hot water relaxes my muscles and the fragrant soap refreshes my senses. I feel rejuvenated after one of those. I wrap myself in my giant, fluffy, warm towel and treat myself to a pedicure. The results give me instant happiness.

The Nap:

Not always applicable, but when I do manage to fall into one of those deep slumbers I wake up feeling happy again. It's not just because my body has rested, it is also because most likely I would've had a lucid dream where I've been lying on the beach, sunbathing, lemonade in hand. Pure bliss.

The Shay Belaban (Tea with a spot of milk):

Just a spot of milk mind you. Too much milk ruins it for me. My sister brought home amazing Yemeni black tea that hits the spot. Of course I pour it into my favorite mug, two thirds tea, and a third of milk. A tea spoon of sugar. A bonus would be to have it with a grilled cheese sandwich. This drink is a remedy for my soul. Once the scent reaches my nose, memories of a happy childhood flash in front of my eyes. Life's complications become simple again.

I've been having a rough day, it was shay belaban that did it for me this time.

My friends make me happy.

Dee is the glue. She sticks the rest of us together. She's the only cool mommy I've ever met. I didn't know she was a mommy right away, that's how cool she is. She loves food. Like me. She loves dining out. I can tell her everything and she won't judge me. She understands my humor. She backs me up when I'm having a rough day.

I love her.

Nur is the fashionista. She knows all the hot places to shop. Her sense of style is perfect. She knows what goes with what. She'll tell you what to wear. She has a huge wardrobe, and she'll let you pick anything out of it to borrow, except her grey scarf, she doesn't give that to anyone. She loves stilettos. Like me. We wear the same size. She laughs at my jokes. She listens to me, and I listen to her.

I love her.

Lula is the intellectual one. She always has something interesting to tell. She doesn't say I don't know, because, she knows everything. She'll talk to you about politics, religion, art, science, music, food, religion, travel..whatever you feel like talking about. She doesn't gossip. Like me.

I love her.

Rere is the good girl. She's the voice of your conscious. She'll know how to bring you back when you're lost, and she doesn't even know she's doing it. She reminds me of the good days, when we were young and carefree. She was the reason I learned Tajweed and prayed all prayers regularly. She likes to go for walks. Like me. It's okay to cry in front of her, cause she won't make you feel bad, instead she'll cry with you.

I love her.

Myself

I come to this space when I have no one to talk to. Or no one to understand what I'm trying to say. Or when I just don't want to try and exert an effort in trying to make another person understand me.

I find myself talking to Myself. Myself understands me better than any other soul in this world. Myself knows my worries and my problems. Myself listens to me when I need to talk. Myself is always there for me. Myself is never too busy to answer my calls, or too tired to talk. Myself tells me what I need to hear. With Myself, I don't even have to speak the words for it to understand. I find myself doing a lot of things with Myself. We have tea together on the balcony, or play an online game. We have a lot in common. We like to read the same books. Watch the same movies. Wear the same clothes. The same jokes make us both laugh. The same situations also makes us both cry. We both like to dance.

So... the problem?

It gets boring after a while.

Children inspire me.

During break duty, I take my place on a bench. Arms folded. Sunglasses on. Looking strict and stern. The role that I have to play. Twice a week. I have to be the meanie. The one who imposes the rules. The one that punishes those who wouldn't follow them. Running children would slow down if they felt my obscured eyes following them. Trash would immediately go into the bin. Older kids would stop bullying the younger ones.
Yes. I had power. I had the power to control. I decided the fates of many. I could humor or humiliate. Praise or punish. The truth was, the children knew little of what was truly going inside my head. All they saw was a teacher. Sitting on the bench. Putting limitations on their every move. Forcing them to behave in a way that the adult world would accept. Teaching them how to follow the adult's world rules. How to understand their language. Stopping them from excess play, and excess noise, and excess chocolate.
What I saw in them were liberated souls. Running on infinite energy. Affected by the smallest of things. A tiny sticker shaped like a star would boost their esteem so that they felt like they conquered the whole world. A grasshopper would make them squeal in delight. Permission to let them help you with something made them feel like they were worthy. If you ask them to rub the board for you it would make their day. If you ask them to carry your books they would fight over who gets to carry the bigger pile. Red markings on their homework sheets determined their fates; A series of neat ticks on their sheets made them beam with delight. One tiny X, and their world would crumble.
The most amazing thing, is the fact that no matter how much you punish them, or yell at them, or enforce your rules on them, they still love you unconditionally. If they see you walking on the other side of the playground, they squeal your name, and come scrambling towards you. When they reach you they would fight over parts of you to hug. Three would wrap their arms around your waist, two others would hug an arm each, and a tiny one would grab a leg. There would be a lot of pushing and giggling. One kid might get hurt in the progress. When he starts crying, the girl who bumped him would apologize. Instantly they would go back to being buddies again, and they would start laughing again before his tears had a chance to dry up and were still resting on his cheeks.
They squeeze you making it difficult to move. They forgot that a lesson ago you let them stay in for P.E. They forgive you and hug you and carry your things for you. They write little "I love you" notes on bits of paper that they tore from their classwork notebooks.
These children, for some reason unknown, look up to me. I wish I could tell them that it is I who look up to them, but instead, I have to sit on my bench, with my stern face, making sure they follow the rules.

When I want to blog, I can't

The past couple weeks have been hectic. And I got a gazillion ideas for new posts during that time. I never was able to blog about what I wanted to blog about. Instead, I'm blogging about this:

The fact that when my life starts getting interesting, I don't have time to blog about it. When my life was boring, I had all the time in the world to blog, but I didn't know what to blog about. I don't even know why people blog, or why I started blogging in the first place.

Right now I want to blog but I'm just to tired to arrange my thoughts in meaningful sentences. I'm just going to type randomly. Unorganized and messy.

I like my new friends at work. They make me laugh. I am not on good terms with my mother and that is making me sad. I am going on a very interesting trip. The trip is about self discovery. I didn't come back yet but I'm enjoying every minute. I am listening to the song "You fill up my senses" as I type this. A fly flew into my shay belaban cup and died in there just now and I'm so glad it died because it was buzzing around me for the past half our. Flies make me angry. I am proud of myself because I had a problem and I was freaking out about it, but then I got my act together and actually got it solved (for the time being). I've been neglecting a few of my friends and I need to make it up for them. My best friend is seeing a guy that she calls "el taweel" because he's very tall... obviously...I think that's funny. I love my new crazy busy life but I'm missing myself when I had time to chill. I have a bunch of books that I wanna read and a bunch of movies that I wanna watch and a bunch of things that I wanna buy.

I actually took the car out alone a couple days ago.

I had to write that in a sentence on it's own because I'm so proud of me doing that. You know what, that fly that just died in my cup just got up again and started buzzing. Man, I hate flies. I'm very scared of failing. I'm also very scared of losing it. But I have an amazing person to back me up and I love what's going on with my life just now. I'm loving the roller coasters and the fatigue and the laughter and the tears and the entertainment and the midnight snacks. I think I'm sixteen again. The year 2009 was different. The year 2008 was sad. The year 2007 was lonely. The year 2006 was not me. They year 2005 was all about fear. The year 2004 was when I graduated, and the year 1982 was when I was born. The year 2010 is coming soon and I'm not going to worry about it. Because all the previous years happened and I'm still here. I'm still alive and I still know that I'm going to be okay.

Don't ask for explanations because I won't be providing them. Just read this and feel what your heart wants you to feel.