The End of the Affair

I have never had a problem writing about myself, my feelings, or my relationships. I got used to sharing everything with you - I mean everything - including the things that make people blush in our society. Today I am struggling with words. I am not sure how to express myself while saving the little face that I have left. Ok! Ok! It is not that dramatic; it is just hard - so hard - to say that it is over. The end has come. The day that I have dreaded for many years has come and I have to be a big girl and do the right thing. I have to quit the game - it is no longer my game.

12 years ago I was a fresh graduate full of energy and dreams. I was born with a natural strength and will power that I knew could get me anywhere I wanted to go. Paul Malcom, the director of sales and marketing at the Cairo Marriott in 1996 saw the piranha-like elements in my character that were perfectly hidden behind my soft demure facade and he honored me with the title that has changed my life - he appointed me as the public relations coordinator of the hotel. He made me a proud little girl. I would flash my business card whenever and wherever possible. I would make sure that everyone who crossed my path got to know what an important job I had. Were it possible I would have put on my name tag all the time.

In less than a month my media database and relationships mushroomed and my learning curve skyrocketed. I was a PR genius driven by ambition and an unquenchable thirst for achievement and growth. I used to scan each and every newspaper and magazine for creative press releases, events, and what have you. I looked up to the PR stars and divas at the time as I secretly competed with each one of them. I had a secret file where I kept count of their published material versus mine and I took note of every successful event they ever created and tested my own creativity on how to make their events better were I in their shoes.

Other than taking courses, reading books, surfing sites, and jotting down my own ideas for when the time was right, I had timeframes for my career. By the age of 24 I was the youngest PR manager in Egypt and my name began shining next to the divas that I looked up to. By the age of 27 I became the youngest director of PR in Egypt and the most expensive. There was a time when I outshined everyone and I used to compete with no one but myself and whenever I reached a benchmark, I raised the par even higher. I became a PR diva myself and my media relations were never better.

On my way up, and sitting there on the top, I forgot to look at the stars that I used to covet. I did not notice how many fell from the sky, how many ceased to shine, and how many grew into stagnation. Only when I turned 30 that I began noticing the changes. I was slowly and gradually falling out of love with the job. My passion and drive was fading along with my media relationships and power. It was a slow process that only reflected on the dim light that I, as a once shining star, was emitting. I began looking for the names that I once scanned the papers for, only to realize that they have been replaced by other names; names and faces that I never noticed before. Some of the familiar names were still there but they seemed weak and faint as though their power had given up on them.

I got into the Ritz-Carlton as the youngest director of PR and one of the most successful and while I was left there to rot, my peers took charge of areas and regions. I watched the young sales people set foot in the hotel as young promising executives and, in the six years that my career came to a standstill, they got promoted to assistant managers, managers, now directors, and will soon head whole sales and marketing teams. Where would that leave me? Exactly where I started seven years back and exactly where I will be seven years from now! A dead end! I will always be the PR girl; little Murva - as one of my GMs used to call me. No matter how big I grew, I will never be on the board of executives - why? Because I will always report to the director of sales and marketing.

The title could change - be it marketing communication or communications - yet the job will always be the same, the boss will always be the same, if not worse, and the GM will always call me for pictures and press releases. Getting an area position now seems like a mirage - not because it is hard, but rather because it is just another title! I will never be looked at or treated as the qualified marketer that I am. I will always be locked up in a box in the sales and marketing department. I will always have a regional dickhead who, at the back of his stupid head, thinks that PR girls should keep their mouths shut while the marketing gurus talk. I will always have someone confusing my title with my experience and turning me into an order taker.
The past three, almost four, years of my life were like an eye-opener. I found the perfect outlet for my marketing knowledge and experience when I began teaching at the AUC. I finally have a chance to create a second line of people who will grow into great marketers. I have also embarked on a career in training - silly hoteliers who have seen nothing outside their little Barbie world think little of trainers and believe that anything outside their hotel is not a career. No one explained to them that a trainer is a consultant in his field and that I have finally found my decent respected position in the training room as a business partner not as the idiotic toy they want me to be.

Too much has been going on in my life on all fronts and I had no more room to keep anything within. I needed to vent; hence came the writing - my true voice! And writing led to my TV exposure ... and I finally got back the fulfillment that my original career has denied me. I am grateful for the options that I have been given and I am thankful for the God-given gifts that I was blessed with. I am lucky that I came across people who recognized my potential and I do not regret that I ever took those risks. I still remember his words when he interviewed me last May for my current position; "I am giving you a career" he said. I felt a slap on the face and, as I swallowed the insult, I felt that my victories, achievements, and success stories on all other fronts mean nothing to this man who thought that the world revolved around his hotel.

I know that some people will delete my number, others will not call me anymore, and others will not answer me when I call - but it's ok. I know that I will no longer have the backup of the corporate world but I also know that I will never be a nobody ... I will always be me .. the me that I have always been true to. I am finally free and happy .... I have resigned and ended the affair.

The Toilet Seat

Barren is the desert where you threw your seed
Barren is the heart that knows not what you need
Barren is the mind that forced you to read
Barren is the soul that never takes the lead
Barren is the love that you ceased to feed
Flush .. the toilet seat is up
The toilet seat is up!

Part 2 - What goes on in a man's head?

Man: She is sweet

His Head: There is always sweeter ... check out her friends

Man: She is also cute

His Head: Cute? She is too fat/skinny/dark/fair/tall/short ... naaaah ... she is so not your style ... check out her friends

Man: But she is smart .. rare these days

His Head: Smart? Because she quoted a few writers, read a few books, held a few arguments, had some opinions ... come on ... you can do better!

Man: She is so natural and spontaneous

His Head: You mean too wild/ not wild enough? Too tame/ not tame enough? Too blunt/not blunt enough? Too eager to please you/ not eager enough? ... check out her friends on facebook

Man: I do not want her friends .. I want her!

His Head: You want to settle for less when you can have more? Now look me in the eye and tell me that you like her that much!

Man: Well ... it was just a few dates/chats

His Head: Then you keep her at an arm's length as you explore greener pasturesMan: Yeah .. this is the ultimate win-win situation; I win and you win .. hahahahaha .... ahhhhahahahahahaha ... heeeeheeeeeheeee

What happens in a man's head?

My lovely sweet cute adorable friend sent me a message that I will sum up, then will answer the significant question she threw on my table:

"I don't want fucking men to dictate my fucking mood!!! I'm sick and fucking tired of being on cloud nine one minute coz Mr. X asked me out for coffee...and then being thrown into a pitfire in the deepest darkest corner of hell coz seven days later...he hasn't called me!!! The funny thing is, for the half hour we talked, he seemed completely smitten! I made him laugh alot, and I could tell by the look in his eyes that he liked my opinions. He sometimes paused, looking for the right thing to say. I thought-stupid me!-that this was going to make all the difference. I would just really like to know what happens in a man's mind that after such a great start, it quickly goes kaput! It makes me feel so small, insignificant, ugly stupid when a man does that to me...especially when I can't find a valid rational reason!!!!!!!!!!!!"

What goes on in a man's head? ... something like this:

Man: WOW .. what a gal!!
His Head: yeah .. what a gal
Man: You do not sound as thrilled as I thought you would be
His Head: Thrilled?!! Are you kidding me, man?
Man: Why? She is smart, cute, and absolutely awesome
His Head: Yes .. and this is exactly why she is no good ... got it?
Man: Come on ... I have not had such an interesting conversation in ages ... I had a great time.
His Head: You liked her wild uninhibited spirit?
Man: Yes .. this is exactly what drew me to her .... she is just perfect
His Head: How on earth will you control her?
Man: What? Control her?
His Head: If you have a fight, she will win. If you fight again, she will complain. If you fight again and again, she will leave ... she will dump you and move on.
Man: But she would be so much in love with me
His Head: Such women are more in love with themselves and they have a lot of that nasty thing called self respect!
Man: Ok, then I will not fight with her
His Head: Ok! What happens when you flirt? Again, she will not take it ... she will dump you!
Man: I guess I will have to stop flirting.
His Head: Fine! But if you do not listen to her and make time for her, she will walk away!
Man: No .. No .. I love talking to her ... I will listen. I love her company ... I will find the time!
His Head: Sweet talking will get you no where with such a girl. She is confident and knows what she is worth. She will not believe your crap.
Man: I will not feed her crap then
His Head: She has a fulfilling life and plenty of friends and activities. You will never own her.
Man: I do not want to own her, I want to love her.
His Head: Shame on you!!!!! You sound like a pussy .... you do not want to own her, you want to love her, you will not feed her crap, you will make time for her, you will listen to her, you will not flirt, you will not fight, and you do not want to control her .... what kind of man are you?!!! You are not a man!!!

Man & His Head unite forces ... and run away ... you scared him away hun
xxx

The Poison Tree - planted & grown in Egypt

Where to find the book?

Online: http://www.bookspotonline.com/ please email moustafa@bookspotonline.com

In Maadi:

Kotob Khan - Laselky street

Book Spot - Street 9

In Zamalek:

Diwan - 26 July street

Downtown:

Omar Bookstore - Talaat Harb

Pottery Cafe - in front of AUC

AUC bookstore

Heliopolis:

Diwan

Mansoura:

Books & Beans - Geziret El Ward

Alexandria:

Ma3rouf Bookstores - San Stefano Mall

حبيبى ... أنت لست رجلا

تسألنى دائما عن سبب حبى لك
تسألنى لماذا اخترتك من بين الجميع
تريد أن تعرف لما احتضنتك عندما نبذت كل الرجال
أجبتك ... و
فنهرتنى ... و
وتركتنى ... و
أول مرة لا تفهم ألغازى يا حبيبى! و
أكررها ... و
أكرر كلامى ... و
نعم أحبك لأنك لست رجلا!! و

لست انانى ككل الرجال
لست كاذب أو خائن مثلهم
لست رجل يبارى الرجال صولاتهم و جولاتهم فى عالم النساء
لست رجل اعمته فحولته عن آدميته
لست رجل اغوته امرأة فسلبته رجولته
لست رجل بخل على بحبه فقطرت عليه حبى
لست رجل اثقل الصمت جدرانه حتى هجرته

ثقتك بى لا تعكس حبى قدر ما تعكس ثقتك بنفسك
تواضعك رفعك درجات فوق درجات حتى اسكنتك قلبى
اعلنت احتياجك لى فملكتنى
حبى زادك فخرا فزدتك فوق الحب حب
سجدت فى محرابى المقدس فعبدتك
لماذا تريدنى ان اجمعك وسط رجال؟
كم كرهت هذه الصفة
كيف تتساوى مع من لا يفهم و لا يشعر و لا يعرف؟
تهاب قوة مشاعرى؟
أنا البتول فى حبك! و
تخشى انكسار قلبى عند رحيلك؟
لا يا حبيبى ... تذكر ... انت لست رجلا

الوهج

بيضاء الثلج انا ... اهلا بك فى ديارى
فارسى الهمام ماذا بك؟
اراحل انت؟اتشعر بالبرد؟
انتظر

الم تتحسس املس ثلجى؟
اشعرت ببرودة انفاسى؟
اهذه دمائك؟ اجرحك حدى الماسى؟
اهذه آثارك على رقبتى؟ اشربت مثلج دمائى؟
انتظر

اتخاف أصابعى الزرقاء؟
قلبى يخفق ... انا حية
اتريد ثلج لكأسك؟
اقدم لك مكعبات روحى المتناسقة
انتظر

احتقن وجهك و اقشعر بدنك
فغر فاك و جحظت عيناك
مات حبك فى سقيع شتائى
ارحل
تعالى يا قطتى ... افتقدتك فى فراشى

Back to blogging

I have missed you all .. I have missed blogging ... what an addictive activity that is!

A quick update ... I have moved to my new home in Sheikh Zayed ... finally ... wrote about it for Identity (Feb issue) & E7na (Feb issue) ... will be able to post the articles here in a week or so.

My first book is almost out .. today or tomorrow ... mixed feelings ... at times I just don't care and at other times I have anxiety attacks:) What's it about? Basically a collection of most of my articles, a few new posts, and lots of editing to sew the thoughts into one canvas.

Why am I superior?

He assumed that I felt superior because of my fair skin … I corrected him.

He wanted to know the reason behind that feeling of superiority … I ignored him.

He insisted … I decided to tell him.

I am not superior because of the color of my skin; it is rather the brightness it reflects.

I am not superior because of the color of my eyes; it is more of the look – and outlook – it projects.

I am not superior because of the shape of my lips; it is probably because of my genuine smile.

It is not the sleek hands that lure you; it is the healing touch that subdues you.

It was never about looks; it is always about how those looks react and interact.

I am superior because I have invested a fortune on my inside – that luckily has reflected on my outside.

I have the super power of dreaming. How many people do you know dare to dream? How many paint their dreams in vivid colors? How many airbrush them with feelings? How many have 3-D dreams? How many have the supernatural power of breathing life into their dreams turning them into a solid tangible reality? I dream big dreams and I focus on the little details and the minute particles of my dreams. I have made all my dreams come true and I still dream more dreams and I will make them come true too. I am superior because ordinary people give up on their dreams.

I am superior because I have defied age. Most women fear aging while I drank from the elixir of eternal youth. So even if I grow into a pathetic heap of bones, you, and other mortals, will still feel my ripe supple skin. I breathed my soul into hundreds of students in my classes – that will live forever. I have shared my spirit with hundreds of lost spirits – that will never grow old. I have made so many girls jealous because they could never be me and I have made so many men jealous because they could never have me – no matter how much I gave; it was never all of me.

I am superior because, as a friend once told me, a gallon of paint could fall from the sky right where I stood but not a drop would touch my head; the paint would defy the laws of physics to form a perfect circle around me and I would stand there untouched and untainted. Words do not stick on me, wounds do not leave scars on my skin, and pain is just a path for reaching my own nirvana. I have the power to rewrite history no matter how sad. I have the power to define the future no matter how hard. I am in love with the present and whatever I touch turns into a hen that lays golden eggs. I am superior because I have good invincible karma.

The Kabnoury Experience

Here I am about to strike again ... Here I am pointing a skinny finger at customer service and screaming "thief"!! Yes!! Thief .. a thief that promises what he cannot deliver .. a thief that robs us of our basic rights of being respected and answered!! OK .. before I begin ranting, I will tell you the story and I will let you judge.

I am living a very exciting phase in my life now ... I am a few steps away from literally laying my hands on my biggest achievement - my very own home ... a really nice home:)

I have a huge reception area and the kitchen is part of that space. I decided to get in touch with Kabnoury to design and build my kitchen; I wanted a rustic English kitchen to suit the fireplace and the stone library in my living area.

On Thursday 6 December, I called the short number 19088 and a nice girl answered. I told her who I was and I told her that I needed one of their engineers to take the dimensions of my kitchen. I begged her to make it on a Friday because I was busy all week and she was kind enough to accept. She told me that the engineer was going to call me on Friday to set the exact time.

So far, I was happy with my choice of such a dedicated and reliable company!!

On Friday 7 December, I waited and waited, then I panicked, and finally I began the chase. I called about four times to make sure that an engineer was going to meet me that day and the nice lady assured me that he was going to call me. Finally he called me, apologized for not calling earlier, told me that he was with clients and we agreed to meet at 4pm.

Engineer Mohamed Said was punctual, came with a catalogue, and took the measurements with utter professionalism. I was happy and so looking forward to seeing the design of my dream kitchen. Engineer Mohamed told me that it would be ready on Saturday 8 December. I told him that I taught on Saturdays and that I was live on OTV on Sundays and we agreed that I would go on Tuesday 11 December to the Maadi branch to check it out.

We met. The design was not ready. I was not very happy but later on we sat together and worked on the design together - a great experience ... I was involved in the details of creating my kitchen.

At the end of our meeting , he promised to send me two quotations the following day (Wednesday 12 December)

He did not.

I called.

He was busy with other clients.

The day after (Thursday 13 December) I called.

He had an accident but he promised to email me the quotations.

There was no email - not then and not now!

On Friday 14 December, I decided to drive to Maadi branch and pick up the quotations myself. I called on the way about 7 times ... he did not reply.

I arrived at the branch and his colleague, engineer Jacqueline, tried calling him but he switched his phone off.

She handed me four pieces of paper that made no sense to me and told me that he would call me.

One sheet quoted LE 37,887 and the other quoted LE 27,175. There were two others; one for LE 46,724 and one for LE 34,800 ... ahhhh and a bathroom unit for LE 4,712.

He never called back .. not on Friday, not on Saturday, not on Sunday ... I guess he will not call.

How would they have treated me had I paid the LE 40,000 + ? I now doubt their delivery promises, I doubt their quality, I doubt their integrity, and I am glad I did not commit!

So guys .. I need a kitchen ... any suggestions?

1:46 am December 17 .... I sent my post to the customer care email on the website - customercare@kabnoury.com

Guess what? It bounced back!!!!!!