Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Thank you for being mine.
I feel like I was born just to be yours, that I belonged to you even before I met you, that every experience I've ever had was to prepare me for the honor of being your wife. I knew, from the first hello, from the first borrowed cigarette, from the first card you sent me with your handwriting disguised, that you were the only thing I wanted.
You are Gorgeous. Your smile, the way your teeth are gapped at the front, your sparkling eyes and angular Jaw all come together to make the face I want to look at every morning for the rest of my life.
You are patient, and have resigned yourself to the role of responsible adult in our relationship without complaint. Thank you for providing this fantastic life, This Castle we live in, the delicious ingredients that fill the fridge. How wonderful to be among the lucky few who don't want for anything.
Thank you for telling me No with the same patient tone every time I ask for a goat, cow, ducks, or whatever. Sometimes I ask for stuff Just so you'll say no, because you are so funny in the way you say it. You have the same patience and Humour each time, Even if it's the hundredth time I've asked. A girl needs limits too.
Remember the reliable, Shiny, brand new car you had when I met you? It takes a truly amazing man to be able to part with the only new and expensive thing he's ever owned and trade it for three unreliable but vastly more interesting forms of transportation. You are awesome, and all the guys you work with are envious of your new wheels. Honest.
You somehow manage to work with and live down the street from my parents. No other man could tolerate so much contact with in laws, yet you seem to thrive on it and genuinely enjoy their company. They adore you.
You forgive the unforgivable from me and ride out the thunder storms of my bad behavior and immaturity as though they were only a summer breeze. I promise, I'll make the effort worthwhile in the long run.
My Dad says the secret to a happy marriage is to marry someone who laughs at your jokes. He's right. You laugh at my jokes no matter how stupid they are.
You are fantastic in Bed. Absolutely amazing.
Thank you for our Daughter. She is the most amazing, and yet the most normal thing I've ever done. You are fantastic with her, and she adores you. The way she looks at you and smiles her toothless grin in the hopes of catching your eye, and the happy baby babble she directs at you warms my heart. You help me so much to be a confident, Competent, capable mother.
Darling, thanks for being mine. I am so Honored to be your wife.
Monday, February 12, 2007
The wounds and sperm traces found on a suspected rape victim's body are "insufficient evidence to confirm whether she was physically and sexually assaulted," a court heard yesterday. A forensic doctor at Dubai police told the Dubai Court of First Instance that the medical examination of a 42-year-old Chinese rape victim, identified as S.N., showed some wounds and sperm traces.
"These are considered evidence which are insufficient to confirm whether she was subject to any rape or body assault. Besides, the woman had lost her virginity a long time ago," the doctor told the court.
The Public Prosecution had charged 24-year-old Pakistani, M.I., Omani national, J.G., and Iranian national, Y.D., both 19, with kidnapping the female victim, identified as S.N., after forcing her into a car, driving off to an unlit area and gang-raping her. The trio were also charged with breaching the woman's privacy after recording the rape on their cell phones and theft.
"The woman sustained head and arm injuries. The medical examination showed that she had injuries and different traces in her private parts which came subsequent to the rape claim. However, it is not possible to confirm whether she was raped or not," said the doctor.
Good Doctor, God forbid your own mother or wife ever undergo a similar trauma and have her case not taken seriously because she had lost her virginity a long time ago. God forbid your daughter ever find herself without a good father, husband, or job, a victim of human trafficking, forced to turn tricks to make ends meet with no legal or financial recourse and no means of escape. I can only pray that should your daughter find herself in this predicament that her clients would always be kind enough to use protection, lest your grandchild be born HIV positive.
Every victim of a crime, regardless of race, profession, or circumstance, deserves a fair review of their case.
Actually, I think we would have been fine since our car is like a giant rolling brick. Had it not been for Suburban spouses' Cat-like reflexes this guy's Mercedes would have bounced off our quarter panel, spun, smashed into the barrier and (one can only hope) ignited, Creating the popular Khaleeji Kabob. Traffic would have been backed up for miles!
When we passed this guy about thirty seconds later I realised why he didn't see us and wasn't paying attention. The rear window and all four side windows were blacked out with dark, dark, dark tint, and when I looked through the front window as we passed, he was on the phone.
Dear Dubai F36669,
What in god's name were you thinking, taking the left hand exit off the flyover and then swerving back over at the last minute, narrowly missing the concrete splitter? You were less than a foot from the concrete. How on earth could you not have noticed the enormous, Loud, Hulking car in the lanes you decided to swerve into? Do you have no desire to return safely home to your children / family? Do you really have such faith in the almighty that you believe he will swoop in and save you from your own stupidity? Perhaps so, because it took nothing less than an act of god for us to avoid your careening, astonishing, last minute change of direction.
I can't speak for Allah, but I'll tell you what bud. If it were me, I'd let your careless and negligent self get wiped off the road. Un-tint your blacked out windows, hang up the phone, and drive.
Suburban Muscat Family
Monday, February 5, 2007
*disclaimer* I know that I am blessed, lucky, gifted, fortunate, and have everything I could want for in life. I am fully aware that due only to who my parents are I am given a passport that entitles me to a life of luxury that most of the word only dreams about. I know, that on a global scale, my problems are totally insignificant. I am blessed with the best and greatest Husband a girl could ever ask for, he is kind, funny, handsome, generous to a fault, and my perfect partner in life. I know I just need to suck it in, and get on with things. */disclaimer*
But here is the thing. I Really, Really, Really hate having a nanny. I am absolutely astonished that I am playing someone else to raise my child for me. We got this wonderful woman to free up my time so I could return to my new, post-baby career. With Suburban Infant safely looked after I can continue to be a free wheeling, hard drinking, skinny, money earning, interesting, Non-mommy, type of person. IE; the woman my husband married. I do not want to morph into one of those gossipy, vapid, bored women in sweatpants.
Suburban infant is small, and needs constant feeding. this means constant Interruptions throughout the day, and that I really can't leave the house for more than a few hours at a time. Each interruption features ten minutes of excruciatingly boring small talk with the Nanny, thirty minutes of nursing, a nappy change, a cuddle, and another ten minutes of small talk. Repeat every two hours.
My leash has been somewhat lengthened because we are giving the girl cereal (which, according to the nice folks at the WHO shouldn't be happening for another two months Minimum). When she eats the cereal, I can be away for four hours at a time.
I don't know how well the cereal is working out though... As I type, the Nanny and housemaid are both in the kitchen singing, clapping, shaking rattles and attempting to feed my shrieking daughter some porridge. Every time they start to get a bite in her, Nanny swoops in and wipes her mouth and neck (feeding is messy business) and the girl begins to shriek again.
How fucking hard it it to realise that maybe they should just focus on quietly feeding the baby, and leave the table manners for later? Babies, as far as I am aware, are washable...
While I'm at it, I wish they would change her nappy more often and stop encouraging her to sleep all day long. I also wish the Nanny would stop telling me how to raise my daughter, stop suggesting that I should get her infant ears pierced, and stop answering my questions with another question. And buy a fucking watch so when I ask you what time she was last fed, you can give me an answer less vague than "some time ago..."
I hate that other people get my daughter during her best hours each day. I hate feeling like a baby feeding machine / fuel pump. Interrupt work, attach crying baby to nipple, feed baby, hand back pleasant and happy baby to be enjoyed / stared at until the next time it cries.
I hate leaving her at home when I am away, because I have no idea how things go when I am away. Apparently all is perfect, but I doubt anyone would tell me if her hair was on fire. As a control freak, it's almost more than I can handle.
Here's to suburban throwing herself a pity party of epic proportions. Normal services to resume tomorrow.