Facebook, MySpace, Flickr, and even Google, they all make the world just a little bit smaller. People you probably would never have known in your life could end up being your best friend. Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but still, the Internet has become an emotional bridge between strangers. Everyday people meet their boyfriends or girlfriends randomly online. They get in contact with a long lost kindergarten friend. They see the picture of some pretty girl in an album on the profile of a friend of a friend and they're automatically in love. No really, I've seen that one happen.
I have this second cousin that I haven't seen in YEARS and whom I have probably never had a real conversation with because she is a lot older than me and I am a lot more immature than my age permits me to be. But then I randomly meet her online, start reading her blog, and suddenly I know more about her than I ever did before.
I have this friend on Facebook. This girl I never met, only emailed back and forth and chatted with a couple of times for AIESEC-related purposes. Now, she's my friend on Facebook, and I know what she looks like so well that I'd probably be able to spot her in a crowd. I know her activities, interests, favorite music, favorite TV shows, favorite movies, favorite books and favorite quotes. I even know that "Soukaina Chlyah is going to Istanbul, Turkey on Wednesday!"
I wonder if she'll ever Google her name and find out that I wrote about her in my blog. Because that just happened to me. I'll write Heba Zaghloul right here so that if anyone else ever tries to Google me, they'll get directed to this page. Then they'll get to read all about me. It's every stalkers paradise.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Has it been six months already?!
I wouldn't say it feels like just yesterday we were sitting in a café in City Stars with Hany trying to hold my hand for the first time, but it doesn't feel like six months ago either. I guess time passes by quickly when you're 200 kilometers apart. Six months later, in the same spot where things started to unravel and while your boyfriend is an hour late, is a perfect time and place to start reflecting. (AIESEC terminology.)
The first thing Farah (my best friend since high school who is NOT in AIESEC, surprisingly enough) told me when I said I liked a boy from Alexandria was that it was perfect because I've always needed my space when it comes to boyfriends. I thought so too. But I was wrong. She was wrong. We were all wrong. I'll even admit, there have been some frantic phone calls consisting of, "how come you don't call me every two seconds, don't you love me?!" And if you know me at all, you'll know that sounds nothing like me.
The truth is, long distance is hard. People will say it doesn't count as long distance if you're in the same country and just a two hour train ride apart. Fuck that, this is a long distance relationship and it is hard. But six months is a good sign of just how much we were able to hang in there. And sure, there are still those frantic phone calls and random fights. But I'd say we're just about learning how to perfect it. And we still have a long way to go.
The first thing Farah (my best friend since high school who is NOT in AIESEC, surprisingly enough) told me when I said I liked a boy from Alexandria was that it was perfect because I've always needed my space when it comes to boyfriends. I thought so too. But I was wrong. She was wrong. We were all wrong. I'll even admit, there have been some frantic phone calls consisting of, "how come you don't call me every two seconds, don't you love me?!" And if you know me at all, you'll know that sounds nothing like me.
The truth is, long distance is hard. People will say it doesn't count as long distance if you're in the same country and just a two hour train ride apart. Fuck that, this is a long distance relationship and it is hard. But six months is a good sign of just how much we were able to hang in there. And sure, there are still those frantic phone calls and random fights. But I'd say we're just about learning how to perfect it. And we still have a long way to go.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
You can expect every blog to be as random as this...
Everyone thinks I'm crazy for going out in my pajamas. I, for the life of me, can't understand why. So I decided to ask someone, Nadia (fellow AIESECer), what's so embarrassing about being in the street in you pajamas, and she said it's embarrassing. Another thing I could never understand, embarrassment, but that's another story. Why in the world would I feel embarrassed if random people in the street see me looking ridiculous in a Mickey Mouse shirt and flowery pants? These are people I don't know, people I probably won't see ever again, and people who know absolutely nothing about me. Yet they should be significant enough to draw up some emotion inside me and force me to spend an hour in my room color coordinating my make up to my carefully picked clothes. Why am I the only person that sees that as crazy?
Never mind the fact that it's a waste of time and energy and brain power. I can't find any logical reason for making an effort to make myself look any different than the way God made me. Yet I do waste some time color coordinating my make up (if choosing between black and brown eyeliner counts) to my carefully picked clothes every day (it was only once that I was lazy enough to go to an EB planning meeting in my pajamas). It's sad that we (the rest of the world and I) would habitually do something regardless of whether or not we are convinced by it and whether or not it's really necessary. My conclusion is that we're all sad and hopeless creatures that live by rules society has created for us without realizing that these rules are dumb and there's nothing wrong with breaking them. We're all doomed.
Never mind the fact that it's a waste of time and energy and brain power. I can't find any logical reason for making an effort to make myself look any different than the way God made me. Yet I do waste some time color coordinating my make up (if choosing between black and brown eyeliner counts) to my carefully picked clothes every day (it was only once that I was lazy enough to go to an EB planning meeting in my pajamas). It's sad that we (the rest of the world and I) would habitually do something regardless of whether or not we are convinced by it and whether or not it's really necessary. My conclusion is that we're all sad and hopeless creatures that live by rules society has created for us without realizing that these rules are dumb and there's nothing wrong with breaking them. We're all doomed.
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