Potpourri...

I have to be honest, I have lied to you. It's not something I normally do. Some of it is to protect myself.  Some of it, I didn't want to discuss here, but that has changed.

My life is not a bed of roses. It has been filled with a lot of pain and struggle.  Over a year ago, (well almost 2 years now) I was laid off from a really wonderful and well-paying job. In a matter of days now, I will hit my “99 weeks" and the end of my unemployment. I will be put in some type of statistical limbo because I will be removed from the unemployed column, but I have no job.

Right now, I know that if there are any Muslims reading this, they would be asking “So, you have a husband to take care of you." Unfortunately, that is not the case. My husband does not live with me.  He lives in New York.  He has been out to see me about half dozen times -- including his trip out to marry me.  None have been more than a week and every visit leaves me with less money than if he hadn't come.  The only reason that I'm still married to him is because I don't have the extra $500 filing fee for the divorce papers.

Currently, I will be homeless at the end of April.

This, unfortunately, is not that uncommon of a situation.  Hundreds of thousands are no longer “Unemployed” but are not working wither and growing numbers of them are either homeless or about to lose the roof over their heads.  (Ever imagine or know just how hard it is to look for work without a residence??)  Some who have children can get on welfare, but that doesn’t cover all of the bills either.

And then there are poor saps like me who either don’t have or can’t have children.  Whose options are greatly dwindled just because of they don’t have children.

So here I am facing losing the roof over my head, with limited options, and falling through the cracks.

My husband knows and has made it very clear that he will not pay my rent or help me with anything else.  He either doesn’t care or shouldn’t have married me because he cannot support me or any other woman.

I know now that he only married me so that he could get his Green Card.  He repeatedly lied to me about his immigration/Visa status and didn’t tell me the full truth until we had been married for months.  But enough about him.

I could contact the local Mosjid, or the one that I prefer to attend, but they are very limited in how much they can help because they also help families with children and they rightfully have priority.  (Please, understand that I am not saying anything against helping families with children first, but I have to ask, “Why must I always get the crumbs just because Allah made it so have for me to have children and not let one plant and grow inside of me?”)

Anyway, I have been dealing with this while trying to find work.  Now I’m having to start to make plans for my stuff, finding foster homes for my “girls” (My cats), and trying to keep a positive attitude.

Then there are days where I hear that my own government is holding hearings against Islam.  Something about dealing with the terrorists.  All of a sudden, a patriot like myself is considered a terrorist because of what religion I practice.  I find that pretty damn funny on one hand, damn scary on the other.

Funny, because I’m noticed some similarities in Islam to Catholicism and other religions.

Funny, because we don’t hold other religions responsible for what a few of their members do. (What religion was Ted Bundy, The Zodiac Killer, RTK, or any of the other mass murderers or general killers?  Did they kill for religion?  Organized or their own?)

Funny, because have any such trials squashed a religion?

Scary, because it puts a bigger target on my back. (As if I didn’t look weird enough in hijab with my-so-white-that-I’m-transparent face. Hey, it keeps my head warm and dry.  And my hair could be having the worst hair-day on record and no one would know.)

Scary, because some could take it as a liscense to attack Muslims.  (As if they really need any additional reasons.)

Scary, because it makes me more cautious who I tell that I’m Muslim.

Unfortunately, it makes me glad that I decided to not wear the hijab in public unless I’m going to Mosjid and even then I frequently put it on in the parking lot.  (I really have enough strikes against me, I don’t need someone judging against me just because I happen to wear one little but obvious piece of religious clothing.  It is hard enough finding work to support myself.)

Then Japan was shaken, thrown in a washer hooked up to a mud-filled pond, and then finally put in a faulty microwave.

Living in Earthquake country like I do – I know that this hits me a little differently.  I remember having my legs feel like rubber for days after Loma-Preita – the 6.8 quake that hit the San Francisco Bay Area in 1989.  It took a long time for the ground to feel solid under my feet again.  Everytime I feel the Earth shake, it still takes a day or two.

So the empathy that I have buried for so long for too many reasons comes to the fore.  I imagine how it would feel to have the ground shaking every day at least once a day and, wow, It makes me feel sick.

As sickening and hard it is for me to continue reading and watching the news on this, I can’t help it.  It affects me.  Not just because we Californians are still waiting for our “Big One,” or because any potential nuclear fall-out will be heading directly towards me, but I need to see the people picking up and carrying on.  Because I need to see that human element that I seem to see so little of late.  I need to see, no, have to see that someone responds to that tiny little voice that we all have inside that tells us to stop and help another human.  That voice that tells us that the one that fell could have been me.  That voice that tells us to start to put things back into some semblance of order.  The same voice that told a barber to start cutting people’s hair even though he no longer has a business, or a home, or a bed of his own to sleep on anymore. 

That voice is what seems to be missing from all of these political dim-wits that think cutting the rug out from their fellow man is the best way to help him – even if it was the last thing they had they could call their own.

            The very rug that seems to be missing from under my feet.

December 9th, 2010

I recently got in contact with an old friend.  I've known him for over 20 years, but lost touch with him for eight of those years.  It was actually about a year ago that we just got back in touch again.

I thought that he would see how I've grown and changed, but he like my family acts like I haven't changed at all.  I quit drinking years ago, not because I can't handle being hung over, or because I'm an alcoholic, or even for religious reasons.  I quit because it made me sick. I won't go into specifics, but I will say that I don't vomit from it, but I get physically sick for at least a day from drinking one night.  Never liked it much anyway, except for cooking -- but that is another matter....

So this friend plans to spend a day with me -- going to the old haunts, and generally getting back in touch with each other.  It was a failure.  What was the quote from "Sex in the City" that Carrie said??  Ah, yes.  "Apparently, you can go home again, but it will cost you."

So what did this cost me?  My self respect for drinking and breaking a promise to myself.  Two or three days of my life that I will never get back, and probably a few brain cells.

I didn't mind hanging out with him, mind you, I just minded the fact that he kept insisting on buying me drinks and hounding me to finish them.  I enjoyed dancing with him like the old days, but I never needed the alcohol to do that, just needed a dance floor and some good music.  (I was the teenager that wore a hole in her mother's carpet in the living room dancing to music playing on the radio or from tapes so long ago....)  Did I otherwise misbehave or break Muslim rules, no.  I was even good and didn't eat pork -- which has been my hardest challenge in converting...

Would I spend the day with him again? Not if he can't except that I no longer drink, and that I have changed....

I will say this for him, he was more caring and considerate than my so-called-husband is on almost everything.  The only exception is the bad scene with my asthma.  We were finally leaving the city, and we had to walk uphill to the car, but I started having an asthma attack when we started up the hill.  I was doubled over gasping for breath and even told my friend that I needed my asthma inhaler.  His response, "You can get it when you get to the car at the top of the hill."  Then he doesn't understand why I got upset and up-ended my purse on the sidewalk to find my inhaler.  I couldn't breathe, couldn't think of where my inhaler was in my purse, and couldn't move much anymore.  The only thing I could do was get angry.  I get angry, I get extra strength from a hidden well inside.  When my hip gave out on me last February, and I fell down, the only thing I could do then was get angry to get myself back up.  My ever-useful husband just rubbed my back and asked if I was alright.

So back to last night, my friend made the comment that he didn't understand why I got angry.  I said to him after I could speak at all, "I... love you... but I... fail to.... understand... how,... after being... so kind... and... considerate to....  me all day,.. you ignore... my obvious.... distress."  He had no comment.  I don't think that he believed that I was truly in so much distress, but I refused to go to the Emergency Room because all I could think of was the $5000 bill, and how my friend would never let me live down the fact that I kept him up all night or made him miss his flight out....

Maybe I should have had him take me to the ER.  I wouldn't have been in respiratory distress for a couple of hours or so.  Probably would have been just as tired, and more sleep deprived.

December 16th, 2010

So it's been about a week since I wrote that.  Do I still regret that night?  Yes, and no.  I still regret drinking and breaking a promise to myself.  But I don't regret going out and dancing with my friend -- it made me push my body in a way I haven't done for a very long time.  And I am the better for it.  These old bones are moving better, and functioning better than they have in almost a year.  Should I have gone to the hospital?  Yes, but only because my friend never believed that I was so ill.  We haven't spoken since he got on his flight out of state.

Why do people do this?  Act like people never grow up or change?  I was an 18-year-old child when I met him for the first time.  Of course a person grows up and changes.  My infamous siblings do the same thing, and act like I'm still a 5 or 6 year old child.  I'm a little older than that now -- I'm just going through menopause.

Until next time, have a lovely day....

Divorce

Divorce is something very common in the United States -- too common really.  I waited to marry just because  I didn't want to become another one of those statistics.  I didn't want to end up like my parents.  Yet, here I am not just wanting to divorce my husband of just over a year, but already having filled out the paperwork and actively looking for a time to file it.

There are so many reasons that we should divorce, and yet I can find few to stay married.

First, there is the fact that he lied to me before we got married.  He told me that his Visa status was good and not to worry about it.  He then tells me four months later that he has been here on an expired Visa since 2001.  I will tolerate a lot from someone, but not lying -- especially from my husband.

Then there is the fact that he doesn't live with me.  He has only been here four times to visit me, not including the trip he made to marry me.  That includes a near six month stint where I didn't see him.

He refuses to help me, but expects me to help him.  The Qur'an says that the husband is to support the wife and to pay the bills.  I have been struggling to survive on unemployment for well over a year.  Not only does he refuse to help me pay my bills, but he has also told me that it is my job to support him.  I once asked him what would happen if the doctors put me on bed rest while pregnant with his child.  He said, "Oh, you will live off of your savings."  He wants me to have his child, but he wants me to pay for it.

He recently went on and on about how I am a failure in life and beneath him, because his cousins have married doctors, lawyers, and such.  I am just an out of work Buyer/Administrative/Contracts Assistant and I don't make any real money for him to live off of.

He recently started bugging me about contacting the INS about getting his paperwork started.  I told him that a paralegal that specializes in Immigration Law told me that we have to be married and living together for two years before I can file anything.  He said, "Ok, good.  We only have one more year to go."  Completely ignoring the second half of my statement.

He made it very clear the last time he was here that he will not help me with my rent should my unemployment run out.  Not only to me, but also to a few of my house mates.  So I asked him, "Would you rather see your wife homeless, then to help her anymore?"  The sound of crickets would have been a better response, because he gave none.

Is there anything good about my marriage?  Other than legally changing my last name so people I don't want in my life can't find me, no, there is nothing currently good about it

Is there any reason to stay married at this point?  Not that I can see.  I feel as though he is just using me for his own end, and I am left to flop around like a ignored, dying fish that has been pulled out of the water and left on the shore.

I converted to Islam for him, but I would ask him questions, and he would flippantly tell me to read the Qur'an.  When I would call him on his bad behavior and quote the appropriate Qur'anic text, he would say, "It doesn't say that."  He tells my friends that they need to get me to wear the same clothes as they do, and to wear the hijab everyday, but provides no money for a new wardrobe.  The last time he was here, I made no effort to look good for him, and he made no notice one way or another.

It has gotten to the point where I don't know how to talk to him.  He asks me how I am, if I tell him that I am sick he ignores it and asks about my cats.  He once even yelled at me for insisting on money for food and making him miss a party.  Mind you that it was in the middle of Rahamadan.  Why is he going to a party in the middle of the Holy Month anyway???

I asked him for a little money this month for food because my check was delayed, and he told me no.  The closest assistance for Halal food is some 20 miles away, and since I have no car, I have no way of getting there.  What am I to do?

I finally got mad with him and told him that I am actively looking for another husband.  He said that I was giving him a "heart attack", and treating him badly.

I never wanted to get divorced, but a husband that is more harmful than good, what am I to do?

Until next time, have a lovely day....

Legacies...

Percolating....percolating.....  The thoughts are bouncing though my head trying form into a cohesive blog....  I know that it sounds weird, but like some of the composers of 'ole, I tend to formulate my blog paragraph by paragraph, sentence by sentence.  If the sentence doesn't form into a clear, resonably concise thought that sounds correctly, it's never laid out on the page, or typed on the screen.

So I am having trouble getting the coffee of this blog poured out onto the page.  So it's percolating....

First, I feel as though I must appologize for being MIA for the last couple/three weeks.  I started getting busy with odds and ends.  Then I ended up with three cute furry balls of joy.  None of which were over five weeks of age, and, as it stands right now, two will never see the sixth week.  A moment for the ones called to Allah already....

That kind of leads to the topic I want to talk about -- Our Legacy.  For most people, their legacy is in the children that they bring and/or raise to become (hopefully) upstanding citizens and people.  Then there are those that adopt some truly wonderful children that they happen to find and raise.  I cannot have children, and, if I am not mistaken, adoption is not allowed in Islam.  So I have felt for many years, completely out of touch with any kind of legacy.

This has been an issue for me.  Obviously a back burner one, but one all the same.  Last night, I read my best friend's blog.  Never quite knowing what to expect from his blog, I was very surprised to see that he wrote a long piece about our old hang out.

It was not your average trip down memory lane.  It became a right off of reality, back through time to a time and place that wasn't perfect, but was really good with people that I wish I could just call up and hang out with again.  It then took a sharp left back to reality when I realized that this -- these accumulated bytes on some random, hidden server that formed words on any screen that requests that page and can been seen around the world -- were part of my legacy.

I had touched someone's life in a very deep life changing way.  I was just being me at the time.  I wanted all of my friends to get along so we could all hang out together.  I now know better then to force that, but then, in my really early twenties (OM. THAT long ago.) it was me trying to make my own perfect part of the world.  I wanted us to live on the Yellow Submarine.  I've since learned that not everyone has that song running through their head randomly.

My point is this, I will have to say that my chances of having and/or raising any child are slim to nil.  So I have been wondering what if anything will be my mark on this world.  Then, while reading Bryan's blog it hit me that I already have my mark.  Not so much a physical or tangible thing, but quite little things that mark another's heart and life.

I have such people in my life.  Bryan being one of the biggest -- just because he taught me not only how to be a friend, but more importantly that having a good continuous friend is more important than having another name on the list of people that were apart of my life.  And having a good friend is more important than bad relationships.  And a really good friend stands by you when your parents die. They also know when to just say how they feel, will stand on the sidelines and watch the play fail and then will provide the shoulder for you to cry on.  (I know, too many American Football references there, but it worked....)

Bryan, I raise my glass of Dr. Pepper to you.  May Allah always bless you and yours.

I have other such people in my life.  I'll be working my way through the short list.

Have a lovely day.

Freedom: Most loved, but hard to explain

One of the most wanted and loved things in life is freedom.  People that want it or desire some part of it, they will do almost anything to get it.  Yet, those that have it, tend to abuse it and squander it.

This country was founded on freedoms.  One of the biggest freedoms was religion.  In fact, in school growing up were we taught that the pilgrims came here because they were being persecuted in Europe for their religion.  They wanted to come to a new place so they could worship as they felt God had instructed them to worship.  No less then others, just different.

Here we are over 200 years later, and we still have issues with our freedoms.  Not the least of which is religion.  Religion gets mixed up with other freedoms and distorts the views of many people.

Today, we Muslims tend to be getting the brunt of the backlash.  And freedom of religion is coming to the fore once again.  The Mosjid (Mosque) that has been under harsh scrutiny in New York has become the spark in a house with a gas leak.  It has become this mainly because the media has distorted so many facts about the building and what it is.

The building has been used for a Mosjid for years.  The 60 or so people that were Muslims that were killed when those towers exploded likely prayed there.  What they are planning with that site is a community center.  A 13 story community center with ONE FLOOR being used as a Mosjid.  One out of 13.  And somehow, when the building permit to rebuild the crumbling building and to make it something better came up for review, the focus became the one floor with the Mosjid.  Not the factor that they were making a community center in a location that has historically been a Muslim community.  (That was the turn of the last century as reported in the New York Times about a month ago.)

So for those who said that no Mosque should be built where the ashes from the explosion touched, they just might want to pull out their vacuum and remove the ashes of those Muslims from Ground Zero first.  Because that is Islamic Holy Ground now.  Opps.  Did someone forget to mention that???

And as for the burning of the Qu'rans....

Well that gets difficult.  The on-again and off-again burning by the pastor in Florida was a mess.  I couldn't understand the why of that until the pastor said that he wanted the Mosjid in New York moved.  First, how does a Mosque in New York remotely effect him?  Second, the only thing that would be acheived by burning the Qu'rans is ticking off every Muslim -- not only the ones here in the US, but also all around the world.

To us, the Qu'ran is not just a book, it is the word of Allah given to Mohammed (PBUH), who was illiterate, and put into written form.  The Qu'ran is not just a book to us, or a symbol, or a picture of what we should be like, it is all of that and more.  So, it's like burning the cross, the Bible, a picture of Jesus, and any other Christian symbol you could think of all at the same time.  I almost feel like an Imam should hold a Bible burning in protest of the Qu'rans that were burned in Tennessee.  (A burning held in protest of a Mosjid that was being built/is now being re-built after being burned to the ground.)

Seriously, I'm not trying to be inflammatory, but that is the closest thing we have to what those people were doing.  My main point is that they are trying to make hallowed ground and a "Muslim Free Zone" where it is physically and historically impossible.  More importantly, it is against the First Amendment of the Constitution.  What???   I must be wrong.  No, I'm not.  I even printed out a copy of the written text to review that beautiful, glorious piece of parchment.

People site the First Amendment for freedom of speech.  Well, it does cover that too.  But I really truly believe that says sooo much about what the Founding Fathers thought was important by the order that they listed the freedoms in that First Amendment.

"Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances."

Did I mention that this is the first item on "The Bill of Rights"????

Have a lovely day...

This blog

I've been having trouble writing on this blog.  It goes back to what my instructors/professors drilled in my brain about writing for the reader and knowing your audience.

I've been struggling with what and how to write what I want to say.  I've been wanting to write about the Mosjid in New York, about the yahoo paster in Florida burning Qu'rans and other such matters, and I just couldn't form the words in my head about the subjects like I usually do.  It was like the lovely, poor group of protesters in Pakistan (I believe).  Lovely because they were protesting the burning of the Qu'rans - which, from all reports, was because their lives are all about God, and family.  Poor because they live in an area where they have no instant connection with the world. Which leads us to why they were protesting: The burning of the Qu'rans in Florida.  They hadn't heard that the burning had been cancelled.  Whoa.  Wait a minute.  That was startling to me, but then I thought about it, and just how common-place it is for us to get instant news.

Example: The gas main blow-out in San Bruno, CA.  It happened, and it was all over the news.  If I am not mistaken, the local news stations dumped the prime time shows to cover the explosion.  So what has been happening that I've discovered that I cannot seem to stand -- instant & continuous coverage.  Instant, as soon as it happens.  Continuous being the ongoing incessant coverage despite no new information and the fact that the news people have covered the same information repeatedly for the last two hours.

I'm the first to admit that I am a news jumkie, but when something like this happens, I cannot stand to watch the news for a week or two.  I can't stand to see the same images that have already been burned into my brain to the point of dreaming about them at night.  I already have enough problems sleeping at night, I don't need to see the images of houses burning in my head to make things worse...

But it has become commonplace for so many of us in the world.  The instant news of a plane crashing halfway around the world, and the subsequent loss of life.  So when I hear about how someone didn't hear the Qu'ran burning was canceled and even held a protest where two members of the community were shot and killed over the protest, well, it just blows my little mind.

So then I was thinking about how many of the people in the Muslim World do not understand how it could be acceptable for someone to burn books in protest in this country.  Or how people could be allowed to protest without the police shooting into the crowd.  I realized that they should be my audience.  I don't know how many would read this little blog, or if they would even want to but I now have an audience to go for.  My voice can be the bridge between the Muslim World and the American one.

Now I need to go warm up my voice....

In the meantime, have a lovely day....

To Hijab or not Hijab

So I have a precious interview tomorrow morning.  Precious because they are a rare thing these days, yet they are the biggest necessity in order to get a job to pay the bills.  Only the second one that I have had since I was laid off in April 2009.  So the biggest question that I am facing is not what outfit I should wear or how to do my hair, but whether I should wear the hijab or not.

Ramadan is ending this week and I have made a conserted effort to wear the hijab, to get used to wearing it on a regular basis.  But the political environment has been getting truely horrific for the Islamic brothern here in the States.  It is being exsaserbated by the renovation of the Mosjid near the World Trade Center.

Yes, this was one of the major reasons that I started this blog.  By the same token, it is a very difficult subject with many facets that have to be examined and polished for clarity on the subject.  Way too many to start looking at them now.  But I want to look more at the effects of what is happening with this situation.

One major effect is the amount of stares I have been getting for wearing the Hijab.  I get stares anyway -- well you would to if you saw a very fair, blonde hair, & blue eyed woman wearing a hijab too.  I even get stares when I go into the Mosjid.  But the stares have been increasing and getting more astringent of late.

Not only from the white Anglo-Saxon descendants, but also from the Persian and other people from Muslim majority countries.  In the past, the white people have been more rude about it.  Imagine eating dinner with your niece, who is sitting across from you, in a restaurant having a really good time laughing until your crying and generally having a blast.  Only to have the family that sat down behind your niece and stare at you.  And I'm not talking the occasional glance from the child, I'm talking the uncomfortable hard stare that you feel into your soul from the father of the family.  I'm talking seeing him always looking at you when you're looking at your niece, and every time you happen to glance over.  To me, it was beyond rude, and it really put a damper on the evening for me.

But it hasn't gotten any easier.

The overt showing of displeasure of the Mosjid being near ground zero has put the Islamic world back under attack.  Like I said, I will go into this further at a later time, but one of the major things is that the Mosjid has already been there for years.  They just want to remodel or gentrify the building and make it more useful.  They needed the proper permits to do this, and they applied accordingly.  It's just someone who dislikes the Islamic world that put the permit request out there and twisted it.

This dislike has quickly and readily spread to other states and Mosjid.  The one under construction in Tennessee is a very good example.  Someone torched it.  It is now an arson case, and has garnered national attention.  More locally, the Mosjid near San Jose has gotten attention and backlash for wanting to build a minaret on one corner.  The opposition was disguised by trying to put it under the "arcitecture doesn't fit with the neighborhood" school of thought.  The appeal of the approved permit was denied.

But all this goes internal with me.  I feel the stares stronger and I am used to them because of the cane that I walk with.  I feel the stares because of my hijab.

So tomorrow, I have my precious interview.  Despite my attempts to be more Muslim, I will not wear my hijab.  I only have myself to rely on to pay my bills, and unemployment will be ending soon.  If I can give them less of reason not to hire me, the better.  Allah forgive me, but I need to do what I can to become employed.