"In A New York Minute..."

In a matter of 15-20 minutes yesterday evening, I lost my cell phone, found out it had been picked up by so man who then sold it to another man for $40, then that 2nd man (who happened to be Arab) then told me he would sell it pack to me for $50 if I met him in the next 10 minutes on some street corner. Can you believe that?

This all happened yesterday near 34th Street in about 20 minutes. Habibi and I are calling my phone trying to talk some sense into this guy who's then trying to get us to sympathasize with him because if he just gives it back, then he'll be out of $40. Right, I'm sorry my sympathy lever was on a empty for somebody who buys and re-sells "hot" goods.

So Habibi also ripped into him about Arabs taking advantage of other Arabs and probably threw in a quote or two from the Koran. The guy calls back about a half hour later, offering to mail us the SIM card but not the phone. Habibi told him shukran but no shukran. My phone company has already mailed me out a new phone and SIM card at no charge.

In retrospect, I'm sitting here laughing, thinking how funny this guy must look because the crotch area in his pants must be huge, filled with two inflatable balloons that he's been condemned to walk the earth with (hence the balls on some people)

"I Got A New Attitude..."

Do you remember that song? I think the Pointer Sisters sang it. Gosh, I'm showing my age here. LOL. It's true though, I don't know if it's from the rechargeI got from Florida, change in diet or the weather but I'm feeling good, happy and more importantly positive.

I'm always reflecting on my past "challenges" that have happened to me or to us and how we got through them. It always seems like it was just yesterday that Habibi lost his job or we were on the verge of breaking up, or so and so was sick, somebody died, yadda yadda. This June will make 6 years that Habibi and I have known and loved each other. When did it all happen? How? Well, that's a real good story maybe I'll save that one for another day.

I know everyone's got a great love story but mine is really great. It always seems so cosmic and crazy to me, maybe because I'm a girl and I focus on silly sappy crap like that. But I don't care, my story is mine and I love it and hope to make a book out of someday, even if it is just for me and my kids--it's that important and special.

It seems insignificant in the grand scheme of the world's rotation but let's face it, it's the world you live in that matters most to you. We don't have enough of the good news in our daily lives and the media. So why not announce your own. Don't make it up, celebrate it! Isn't that what blogs are for?

"Hotel Morocco"

I spoke too soon and positively about moroccan hospitality. We had a surprise guest this weekend and we're getting another one today who's staying until this weekend. It's really not such a big deal, I'm happy to see Habibi ecstatic about spending time with friends he hasn't seen in years. I really am. He was like a kid counting down to summer the other night. I just miss spending time with him whenever I want and I had made plans for us which of course got pushed aside. Just a little frustrating is all. And embarrassing....

SIL spends all her time with BIL. She's quite demanding with him and his time. SO she always looks down her nose whenever Habibi goes out without me or comes home late. It doesn't bug me often but lately its been more so cause I have a little scrutinizing bug watching our every move.

Thank you's
Just wanted to thank those of you who were kind enough to donate to the Miller's Walk over the weekend. They raised quite a nice junk of change for the cause!

TURN OFF YOUR TV
It's turn your tv off week which cracks me up because last night I watched 2 hours of tv and the night before 3 hours. before that, its been months since I've watched anything but the news for maybe like half an hour. Before you do though, read this excerpt about the new positive role that TV mom's are playing.

"Moroccans in the News"

As of late, usually when you hear about Moroccans in the news, it's never good. Tingis, a Moroccan magazine and wafin.com recetly did a story about this topic. And how true it is.

from CNN: Zacarias Moussaoui, the only person charged in the United States in the terrorism conspiracy behind the September 11, 2001, attacks, has pleaded guilty to all six counts against him.

If a Moroccan is mentioned in a news headline, it usually has something to do with terrorism, explosions, stowing away on a boat to Spain, dying in a cargo box or washing ashore on the Algerian coast, being turned away for residence on the Canary Islands, being held for suspicion on Guatanamo Bay or maybe in your local jail cell, being in the US or any other country illegally, killing a popular person in Northern Europe, or scribbling on a synogogue or church or winning the marathon....

You rarely hear about the Moroccan who solely supports his family, who won a greencard in the lottery, who got a promotion at work, or who heads a successful international company (Lancome), the one who just got his medical degree or was forced out of his aprtment cause his landlord has tunnel vision; what about the Moroccan woman who works 7-days a week so she can decorate her apartment in an American style....

I know Moroccans are not the only ones that this happens to and that I'm not the first nor the last to notice and comment on this. But it just gets me going because people will ask me what my husband thinks about this latest verdict and we'll have to respond..." hold on please, while I diall directly into the stupid-bad ass Moroccan hotline to get an official comment for you." That's the phone line I have right next to the one for Bin Laden and Saddam I used after 9/11 to ask them if they were planning anything else. IDIOTS!

What I know about Moroccans is personal. What I know is that after soccer, their next favorite pasttime is hospitality. That they are just as scared and angry about what is going on as we are, maybe more so because of the fear and anticipation that the suspected culprits could be one of their own. They understand tolerance and respect better than anyone because of their religion and way life. I've seen a Moroccan literally take his shirt off to aid a man he didn't know, a family with no money feed a feast to a stranger, I've felt the warmth, sincerity and kindness all the way from Casablanca to New York, from the man in the marketplace to the man who sleeps in my bed.

What I know about humankind is that we f*ck up and do evil, destructive, vile things to people without caring about who they are, and how it will affect the people they know. "Every action has a reaction," eh? Challenge your reaction the next time you get an e-mail update with some breaking news.

"Tid Bits"

SUPPORT THE CAUSE
Some of you have followed the happenings of my favorite extreme preemie (see the link list to your right), well, just a few days shy of her 1st birthday, her parents have decided to show their love and support for by walking in the March of Dimes Walk this weekend. If you are interested in sponsoring the Magnificent Miller Family visit them here.

GIRLS SPORTS UNDER ATTACK
In many high schools in America, girls' teams still get the short end of the stick when it comes to athletics funding and facilities.

Title IX is once again under attack. Last month, the U.S. Department of Education released a so-called “clarification” of Title IX that undermines the law and jeopardizes future sports opportunities for women and girls. It is vital that Congress hears from as many people as possible that Title IX is in jeopardy. Please click on the link below to email Congress and encourage all your staff and friends to do the same.

Support Title IX

SAPPY GOOP
I love henna and I love movies about 3rd world girl meets 21st Century guy and the cultural challenges that ensue. Check out this new movie: The Night of Henna


GREAT QUOTES
"Commerce and art always merge, unless it's some hermit who takes his creative ability into a cave."
BARRY WEISSLER, co-producer of the revival of "Sweet Charity"

"Sex Has Ruined Me..."

A quote taken from the magazine about relationships - Tango:

"Sex has ruined me. I can almost pinpoint the very day it ruined me. I'm not exactly sure why, but my mother recently sent me a bunch of old papers, including a copy of my sixth-grade diary. According to this diary, I was involved in some very interesting projects,: I was composing a full length opera about the unfairness of my parents. I was in the midst of teaching my two cats the power of human speech, a project I felt quite sure would win me the Nobel Prize.... Then one day, my diary of opera lyyrics and detailed scientific notes was interrupted by a fateful entry that took up an entire page but was only one sentence long. "Eric Lindstrom is so cute." I never finished the opera, my cats died without speaking a word of English, and I devoted years of my life to worshipping men, writing terrible poetry about them, dreaming of them, crying over them." - Cathryn Michon

It's so true though. I have tons of journals and poetry I've written solely devoted to the trials and tribulations of boys. Nothing marking my successes, dreams or goals unless they are linked to a successful makeout session with a boy. I even have a journal now that I looked over recently and I only seem to write in it when Habibi and I have a fight. I recently thought hard about stopping that type of behavior because if/when we have children and they get their hot little hands on my journal, they're going to think their daddy is a jerk. (He's not) I don't want that. I have taken slow and moderate steps to controlling what and when I write because I want to be known as a fun, positive person--not an angry, crying complainer. It's the other reason I revamped this blog. Constructive and positive, my new mantra.

Speaking of cute boys, you should check out this comedic cutie.

"Superman Unzipped"

It's funny the events that occur during your daily rouintes that make you think of weird things. I was riding the train home from getting my haor cut last night and I was feeling especially confident. The cut was great, I had some makeup on, it had been a good day and more than one guy on the subway platform did a sort of cartoon double take at me. So I was feeling good...

I was thinking to myself, "why don't I feel like this all the time?" Why did it take something like a hair cut to get me to buy flowers for myself and walk with a certain skip in my step? Am I that wrapped up in my looks that there's a direct link to my emotions? As I'm arguing with myself in my head, this very large, broad man enters the subway car. He looks a little "scary-crazy" but harmless. He obviously works out and the way he carried himself was brilliant, to top it off, he was wearing a blue visor with a Superman "S" symbol on it. He was the confident mascot to my in-head conversation until, my eyes traveled downward and I saw that his fly was unzipped. Not in a "oh, I only zipped half way or it slipped down unzipped", but completely unzipped as in, I completely forgot or I was doing something qrong and got caught up in what I was doing unzipped.

My broad silent hero crashed and burned before I got to my subway stop. I couldn't resist laughing at this.

"The Politics of Breasts"

While I was in the wonderful state of Florida, not too far away from where the whole Teri Schiavo "standoff" took place, a news sound bite kept playing over and over.... "coming up next, the politics of breasts".

Of course this was about the recent plea from the silicone implant industry to Congress to let them back into our bodies. What struck me as odd was the term....politics OF breasts. I mean, I know my "girls" are front-runners but the idea that they have more weight and balance in the White House than in my own house brings a snarky smirk to my face.

I won't tirade about women being in charge and how the old white men in black suits are afraid to put a women in office cause we might push the big red button during one of our PMS episodes but this did get me thinking about the things we do to our bodies in order to keep our lives and the lives of our families in line...

toe-tight high heels, over-spending on wardrobe, varicose veins from working the 2nd or 3rd night job as a waitress, while we squeeze into a too tight suit and invisible cape by day, one baby on our back the other on the hip, the 3rd in our bellies, control top pantyhose, an 18 hour bra, cardio classes, treadmills, Atkins, South Beach, Dr. Phil, trying to be Oprah while our homes look like Martha's and our meals taste like Betty Crocker, laundry by moonlight, lifting groceries, plastic surgery, too much of our hard earned money spent on infomercial products to make our lives easier...NOT!, dishpan hands, nicks on our legs from shaving, broken nails, nose jobs, using pills and chemicals as the quick fix solution for all our problems, running to the market, the train, to a meeting, back home in time to make dinner, off to work, to school, to strip tease class to the bedroom to satisfy the man whether you have a headache, pms or what not.

My point, we need to do more good things for our bodies: massages, 15 minute uninterrupted showers, quiet mornings, bubble baths, back rubs, good sex, hand holding, hugs, soft kisses, pats on the back from the BOSS, firm handshakes, looks in the eyes and not at our breasts, thank yous to the ears, good cries, good books, Nicholas Sparks movies, carousel rides, ice cream cones with healthy eating habits, water, the beach, free reign to laugh, bra-less days, mental health days and sleep.

Nevermind the politics of breasts, mind the politics of you and your body, be politically correct and kind to yourself. You're the only you we've got. I'd miss you if you weren't you.

P.S. In case you would like to add your 2 cents about silicon implants go here.

"Around the World in Just One Blog"

Hey All,

My weekend was quite an international one, thought I'd share some of the highlights on my international tour:

A quick thank you and shout out to my new friend in SPAIN!! Yes, I did receive your fun-filled, goodie-sweet package while I was in Florida. Hubby thought I had ordered him a Barcalona soccer jersey and was chomping at the bit to tear the box open. It took me a second to realize that it was for me and that he had to wait. Thank you for the wonderful treats! Some of those candies are found in Morocco too and it took DH back to his childhood--so your package was a double surprise for us! I'm sorry I haven't had the chance to write you a proper e-mail (I promise I'll send you one tomorrow) I have so much to say and ask you. Yeah, I have a new friend!!!

Now to my friend and Fellow WOM in FRANCE. Just want to say how pleased I am that your family is happy and healthy. You all looked so great in the photos. I know that the past couple of months have been rough but it was worth it to hear the happiness in your post. Hope things stay like this for awhile.

On my way out of the gym on Saturday, I ran into a friend of DH's-Moroccan guy who owns the local pizzeria. Finally, after 4 years met his wife and 3 adorable children. Spent 4 hours hanging out in an ITALIAN pizzeria speaking MOROCCAN with some new little friends.

Sunday was the best day by far, went over to Prospect Park to watch DH play soccer, brought my softball glove along just in case. The day was a great mix of cultures blending international lines as well as game boundaries. The cricket game, interfered with the softball game I was playing which was briefly interrupted when DH rolled in pain onto our field after being pushed out of bounds, and I swear I did not mean to scare the girl playing frisbee but she got way too close to the ball. The amount of languages being spoken on that sunny patch of hilly grass could probably compare to the floor of the UN. I did get a good laugh at watching the Jamacian soccer players smoke it up before they got on the field. World Africa (really World Morocco) defeated Mexico and one scary looking Hungarian girl... The best laugh was showing DH how to put a baseball glove on and when I threw him the ball (real hard) it actually knocked him on the floor. He made me laugh till I was too full yesterday.

We ended the evening at this fabulous new Turkish restaurant where we were able to catch our breath and re-connect from all the Moroccan madness at our house. Slept with a smile on my face and a chatter of international words and flavors on my mind.....

"I'm a New Yorker Lost in Florida"

That's where I've been all this time...FLORIDA. Visited mom and dad, spent some quality time with the tractor and nature. Mainly went down to de-stress and gather my thoughts. Came home to an Extreme Homemake Over but in its mid-week process.

Habibi surprised me by painting our bedroom an amazing Moroccan Red color using a fantastic brush stroke design. It's a completely different room. The only bad thing was he didn't have enough time to put some things back and decorate. Although he did score major points for using all and I do mean all of the crazy throw pillows I use and that he complains about: "why do we have to have so many pillows?"

I'm a girl, that's why.

"Click, Click"

The language challenge in my house, the last few years has been ok. I pretty much well understand what's going on and when I don't care to know, I just tune it out.

But since SIL has gotten here its been all Moroccan- all the time. This I've noticed. Especially after DH promised that it wouldn't be that way because she's learning English and needs to practice. I think that if it is possible, her English has gotten worse. So this has posed a problem between DH and I because he'll go on and on about something about work to them and by the time he comes back over to me, he's too tired to rehash it in a way that I can understand or participate in. Then I find out that major decisions are being made while I'm in the next room between the 3 of them and I'm not being consulted. So after a few gentle reminders from DH that I need to remember that we are all a family and to include SIL in things, I turn the proverbial table around and wallop him on the head with it.

I was hurt, I was upset, I was the one doing all the bending and still getting left out. So last night, there was a moment of clarity that I almost missed had it not stopped in its tracks to put its hand on my shoulders and shake me. DH was relaying a story about something that happened at work. I was only half listening like I do at most of our dinners because I'm the one being left out. This time DH told his story -half-half or in Moroccan nos-nos. At the end of it he looked at me and winked. I then realized that over the past week, he had been more engaging in conversation with just me and including me and I almost missed. The moment I realized it was so clear that it actually made a clicking noise and had to do it a second time because I wasn't paying attention. Thanks for taking a second chance on me.