Wednesday, July 23, 2008
walking scenes
I had a nice walk this morning, and here are some photos of some flowers I saw on my way. I do not know their names, but I enjoy looking at them.
I realized at times I was following my own shadow.
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Monday, July 21, 2008
A very down morning
I had a major fight this morning, fighting these thoughts. I am doomed if I go out, and I am doomed if I stay in. I had to force myself to not listen and follow the urge of crashing my car to those hills when I was driving. I was not sure if the accident would get the job done, kill me that is, otherwise perhaps I would do it. No other person would get hurt, and the misery would end.
Before I leave, I, even, did the exercise my therapist taught me, but it did not work. Nothing beats that thought of “die and end it”. I am such a disgusting person that I deserve no life. I can not live. Living is very difficult to do. I must die. I wish I had cancer or had a heart-attack and died. I try to move, but when I move, I want to die. I walked one day morning, and then the next morning when I was tired to walk, I kept blaming myself for not getting out of the house and walking. I do not let myself rest a bit. I am continuously criticizing myself, blaming myself for not being active, productive, alive, successful, useful, helping, charming, rich, thin, sexy, attractive, communicative, intelligent, artistic, sensitive, beautiful, and you name it.
I do not say “well done, I walked one day this week,” I say “damn me. I am lazy, I have to walk” It is far easier for me to neglect my successes and pay attention to my failures. All I see of me is failures.
I am just hanging in there. I did not kill myself while driving today, but I had to fight the thought. I am holding up to it untill I see my therapist tomorrow. I am not sure I will ever get well. She said she sees no reason why I could not get well. I want to believe her, but I am a mess.
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Sunday, July 20, 2008
GTM and give away tickets
I have been listening to the Magic 92.5 for quite a while. It is a, and only San Diego’s old school FM radio station. I like the songs because they are familiar and far smoother to my ears from the majority of the new released ones. Any way, there was an announcement on it about a furniture discount at the GTM store.
A GTM store is a discount store. It is not a thrift store because the materials which are sold are not second handed, but they are mostly stocks. Therefore the prices are cheaper than regular stores. Now, you have a 30 percent discount on already low prices; hence, you would imagine the crowd shopping there.
That particular GTM store is fairly close to where I live, and the good bit for me was that the Magic was going to have a station there and give away free tickets for concerts or shows to shoppers. Of course they would draw and pick the lucky ones, and not all the shoppers would win an additional prize. On my part, however, I went there because I wanted to see how crowded it would get, and I wanted to see the person I hear her voice almost every day on the radio.
Here are some that I captured.
I had to go there twice in order to be able to find a space to park my car. It was very very very crowded the first time that I drove through the parking lot. It took me about half an hour to just drive through it, and get out of there. I, almost, gave up, but the curiosity drove me to that place again. I arrived when she was drawing some names, and giving away the free tickets.
I did not buy anything, but the trip worth the try. I observed
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Friday, July 18, 2008
Sad News
Khosro Shakibai was one of the best contributors in Iran's art, especially in Cinema. He died from Heart attack July 18th, 2008.
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Sunday, July 13, 2008
Then, Dye Your Hair
My brother said today that he was feeling terrible with his gray hairs as they were shown that he was getting old.
"looking at these gray hairs upset me all last year," he said. He said he did not like people congratulating him on his thirtiest birthday this year. Apparently some one, ok one of our cousins who lives in Chicago, emailed him with this context, "Happy Birthday Old Man!"
I thought those were all so naive.
However, the funny bit accured when I suggested, "Then, dye your hair" after I heard how much his gray strings of hair were making him uncomfortable.
He and my cousin both went like, "aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh, naaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh" as if I suggested him to transgender.
Five minutes trouble, and all the problems were solved if our hair color makes us old.
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chai khoran
This was sent to my from my aunt who is living in Tehran. I actually asked for it, and she sent me a ghoori or a teapot.
This photo is not of the teapot that she sent me.
I will scan the photo i took of it if it comes out ok, the one she sent me that is.
Ok, now I need a persian Samovar to make tea. But i love my gift.
Here you see, the persian Samovar was even printed on stamps.
These days the majority of Samovars are electrical, but before we used to have some called Nafti which worked with Naft (someone translates it) , and some were called Zoghali which worked with Carbon...
As you see the teapot goes on the top of the Samovar, and the best tea was made when the teapot was heated up empty while the water was getting boiled in the Samovar. I do not remember the name of that little bowl down there, but it was for wasted tea, water and so forth. Also, as I remember, the best tea was poured in an estekan, or those little glasses which were first rinsed with the Samovar's boiled water.
Some examples of Tea Estekans
this what she wrote on the teapot box.
it says, "My Dear Maryam" and signed "Ammeh" or "Auntie"
Well, every one in the family calls her Ammeh. Some even say Ammeh Khanoom, or Lady Auntie or something like that. If you say Ammeh, every one knows whom you are talking about or referring to. Is it not interesting?
I am still happy with my gifts from Tehran.
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A fine Sunday
I was nervous this morning since I did not know what to expect, a series of Critical comments, or a nice meeting with my brother and my cousin. My cousin is here in USA on vacation from Iran, and my brother has brought him down to town to see the San Diego, they wanted to visit me and my mother as well. To my surprise, I actually enjoyed my time with them.
I had not seen my cousin for three years, and I had not seen my brother for six months or more. We went to a Persian deli for lunch and my mom had a ground beef kabob with rice for lunch,
and I had bread and cheese
but with cucumber and tomato.
My brother had taken my cousin for an American breakfast, so they arrived when we were done with our lunch. It was marvelous to see them. I was so happy to see me cousin that I told him he brought the home with himself. I had tons of gifts from Iran. We sat down and had a drink together. No alcohol of course, my mom and cousin had Cokes while my brother and I drank water. It was nice when my cousin talked about his childhood memories with my mom (I probably was not even born then), and it was nice to see how he chuckled when my mom talked. He said my mother had not changed too much to not be recognized. He had not seen my mom for more than fifteen years. Life has it ways does not it?
We then drove back with my brothers newly, cool and modernized black BMW, and I enjoyed watching the roads and not being the driver. We took my mom back to her place, and then we went to San Diego’s harbor, and the Balboa Park. While driving, I asked my cousin that if people still drive crazy in Tehran? He said that sure they do. He said if he, as a driver, wanted to follow the rules, he would have accidents. I chuckled. Then my brother told this story; he said that he gave his car to our cousin to drive as changing drivers and my cousin miss stop signs. I thought was very funny, and my cousin responded, “well how I should have known? I even did not see the signs.”
The Harbor view
We walked a little at the harbor, but they did not have enough time to get out of the car in order to walk in the Balboa Park. Tomorrow they most probably are going to the SD Zoo. They asked if I wanted to go with them to which I said yes. I was glad that I met them, and I was feeling less “cloudy and grey” when I came back home. They are going to New York next week, and I so much wanted to go along. I might buy a ticket and go on a vacation to some new city I thought.
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Saturday, July 12, 2008
darn
I keep telling myself that I will do it tomorrow, but the tomorrow never comes. What will I do? I will live!
She asked me; what is so bad about being able to do things?
Me: I do not know. The thought of it scares me. It is just not me.
I explained and described my family’s behaviors, and in particular on some of them she said that they were being mean. But I had a very low night when I came back home this Thursday.
I made it to go to my dentist on Friday. And I made an appointment with a psychiatrist, too. But I did not want to. I wanted to crawl, eat, and sleep. Sleeping is good because the time passes quickly without noticing when you are asleep.
Anyhow, Saturday is arriving, and I am worried that I have to stay alive another day.
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Thursday, July 03, 2008
My first none-TA therapy session
[Note- I first responded to Darya on my comments area; then, I thought I made a big step today which I am proud of ,so I thought to declare it in a blog posting .]
What happened July 3rd 3-4 pm Pacific time for me:
Yes, I did go. I was very nervous at the beginning.The only therapist I had, and what I learned, was a transactional Analyst, so I had no clue how the session would go. Anyhow, I arrived there a bit earlier for the paperworks. When I say her notestick on the paper, "Welcome Maryam.....", I bursted in tears.
The session went on well, and I liked her. I especially liked her eyes. She kept taking notes when i talked, and I kept evaluating her when she talked or moved; I evaluated her dress, her speach, her movements and so forth.
She asked questions, and I answered. I liked how she challenged me, and I liked to realize that how "shut up" I am. Forexample, I could understand her points, but when she asked me to describe or something like that, my mind was shut down.
She learned some about me today, and I discovered a little about myself; I discovered that I am not a loser. I lookforward to our next session which is the following week. And I am going to not harm myself meanwhile because I have to be alive inorder for us to work on.
However, I still need to see a second professional for my suicidal thoughts. She heard that I might suicide , and I think I am going to trust her. I either have to, atleast, consult with a psychiatrist, or see a holistic specialists, or I have to be inpatient in a hospital. I think most probably I will see a psychiatrist.
++++++++++++++++
I will add if i remember more. right now I want to go and watch a movie.
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Wednesday, July 02, 2008
My favorite childhood thingie
One of my regrets in life is losing my childhood photos, likes doccumenteris and books. Due to happenings (shall I say), I do not have them.
Anyway, one of my most favorite childhood books and cartoons was TinTin. I was in Iran when I read the books, so they were translated in Farsi. I was also living in Iran when I watched the cartoon, so they were translated in to Farsi too. However, I found some series of videos of them on google,youtube or such.
Here is one. It is not a two or three minutes clip; it is a forty minutes one. But I so very much enjoyed watching it that I thought why not to share it.
enjoy.
P.S. Hope it works
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Monday, June 30, 2008
pay for it or not to pay for it?
"OMG that is expensive", I thought.
I had to pay 250.00$$ out of pocket for my first psychiatry session and if I needed to continue ninty, for each furthur sessions. I told the receiptienist that I will think it through.
I thought i could see the therapist on thursday the third of july first, so perhaps we could work something else out. Secondly, I saw a coupld of paitients and a couple of the doctors, and I did not like their looks. They seemed rude to the patients feeling so superior that they are mentall illness free or the healthy ones. I ,also, do not know what the medicine does for me.....so anyway I decided to wait till Thursday to speak with the therapist first.
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Saturday, June 28, 2008
so far
I am still alive. I drove my car. I took a bath. I read a little. I posted some insights. I watched a nice movie. I read some blogs. I kept my curtains open. I enjoyed the sunlight. And I am still awake.
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Friday, June 27, 2008
Finally
I just spoke and made my first counseling session with a therapist. She has a very busy schedule, but we managed to find a time, so we could work through my problems. We spoke, and she suggested that I, also, see a psychiatrist for my depression and suicidal thoughts. I have not yet acted completely on those thoughts, but she still asked me to do see the psichiatrist meanwhile, and I told her I will stay around up till we meet. I was nice to hear someone telling me that is important that I stay alive.
How did I find her? Well first of all she is not a transactional analyst. It is almost impossible to find one here where I am living in. So I just went on with what my insurance offers and found an office. I went to that office, and I sat around a bit, and I looked and read the flyers and business cards, and I chose one. I already like her after our first phone call because she seems to be ok with my craziness.
So Up-till our first session my mission is to stay alive.
One Step at a time.
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My Depression
People are not diagnose with particular mental disease in Transactional Analysis. However, since I appear to operate mainly from I am not ok, you are ok (depressive position or get away from) to the I am not-ok, you are not-ok (why not die or get nowhere with position) I recall it my depression.
My Depression
We all read and hear about depression, but I can tell you how it feels whenI feel like I am getting a bit better.
First of all, no “get well” or “stop being depressed” from people helps. In fact, they make it worse. Any attempt to "fix" me will add to the stamps of "I am bad"! or something is wrong with me.
Second, in my case, I find no solution to being the “bad” one, but to die. I am bad, and nothing, even the “option article”, does help.
I only need a hero to love me and tell me that I am ok and it is not the end of the world.
Third, I over eat. In my case, I eat huge amounts of food while I am not hungry. I shut the door, shut the lights off, and I cut any touch with outside world. I am almost dead. I see no good in me to be alive. I even feel guiltier because all the people are so good and productive but me. And I am the un-thankful one for “after all they have done for me” I am still a loser.
What can I say? What can I do? None. I better not exists, so then they might love me.
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Tuesday, June 24, 2008
another experience with a persian 'too much man'
It seems that I just discovered the best way to deal with a guy whom of I had no especial feelings for. I told him the first time that he requested to be friends that I was interested in pure friendship and nothing more. But heaven knows what he wanted.
I do not recall trying to remember Farsi before as quickly as I did when I spoke with him in order to defend myself. He justified his way of speaking as using jokes but the jokes were rather un-polite and humiliating than funny. He finished it a few hours ago by asking me not in a straight way to have sex with as if I was a toy.
I know not a way of how to translate his conversations with me from Farsi into English, but I do recall that I have met some Iranian men like him, and I never really enjoyed their companies.
For example, I was feeling sick quite a few days past week as I always do when I get depressed. But he calls and leaves me a message, "Chi shodi? Mordi?" which some what means, "what happened? Are you dead yet?"
I told him that I then understood why his wife requested a divorce which he took as an offense on my part.
I am not saying that all Iranian men are like him. He just reminded me of THE "put-downs" that I had almost forgotten. farsi speaking, "Zaboonesh Zahr Daasht".
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Sunday, June 22, 2008
Contaminations
A contamination occur when the clear Adult reality and factual testing is emerged with the Parent (beliefs) or Child (emotions) ego-state. Schizophrenics in my view, show the vast possible contaminations. Here is a conversation I had this morning with my mom who is a schizo...;
Me: No, I am not going to drive you up all the way to the Oceanside. I am sick. My stomach aches for ( some good feminine reasons).
She: Reghl (a farsi word) shodi?
Me; yes, and I am in pain, so I want to go home and rest.
She: Those who have unbalanced personalities have pain when they are reghl.
Me: (Looking at her and wondering where that thought could have come up from) saying nothing.
She: you should eat chicken.
Me: (saying nothing again, and just staring at her).
She: Why did not you wash your hair this morning?
Me: (speechless again).
She: Should I give some of these chickens to Juan(her friend who is always hungry).
Me: (wondering what to say)
She: Ok, you go!
{And then my uncle, her brother, tells me the other day that my mother has insights or ESPs since she said (knew) her brother was dying when he was dying.(his contamination) }
I felt even lonelier than ever, and when I came back home, I over-ate in order to resolve the loneliness (my contamination).
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Thursday, June 19, 2008
Introverse as.....
Introversion as means of being quiet
If nothing, the blogland taught me something about my self. I am quiet and picky. I do not say much about myself. Each time I think of making a posting, I wonder if I am being too open.
I find it the most difficult task to talk! go figure.
I hope it is a temporarily situation.
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Sunday, June 15, 2008
Paper
I was offered special offers to receive SD’s Union Tribune; I chose the one which would deliver the paper from Thursday to Sunday. This week is the third week, and one thing I have realized for sure: the Sunday delivery person is not happy with his/her job!
not happy delivery paper person
Why?
Well, he/she throws the paper so hard toward my apt. that the paper lands with a loud “bombing” sound at my door. I wonder how many people it wakes up aside me. Secondly, through the throwing process, the paper hits the fence and any possible subjects on its way in order to land at my door. I wonder how many people that would wake up? Last but not least, in spite of the delivery person’s effort, the Sunday paper is usually landed at the beginning of the stairs which means it is landed in between. On a space which could be mine or my neighbor’s. Of course it is mine, because it is mine, but it is not landing as mine….
Oh well, this Sunday paper was just delivered minutes ago.
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Saturday, June 14, 2008
Acceptance
Where has gone our sense of self? Lost .....
The following was on the last week paper in San Diego. I thought that was incredible.
If you click on any of the images, it will take you to "my-flicker" where you can see and read the whole cartoon.
for some reasons it does not show up here.
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Thursday, June 05, 2008
phew!
I just, actually yesterday, got my results. I was taking three or may be two and a half math courses last semester, and I was wondering how I was doing in them over all.
I like math. I like the logic beyond its concept, and I like how predictable it is. But, I might also prefer it because courses such as English, or philosophy or political science, or history and so forth are pains for me. I also like math because it is a universal language. It is all about numbers, and the rule of how to combine, calculate or analyze them is universal.
I like the fact that no matter where on the planet Earth one is living, 2+2=4. Whilst one realizes the power within math and mathematical application, one becomes a bit freaked out that how much power the geeks who know those applications might have.
However, for me it is a celebration of passing two of them successfully, and getting ready for my summer Calculus course.
I had a crazy algebra professor past semester. He was just too good in math to be a teacher I suppose. He thought, and assumed that we knew the material already. He would teach the whole chapter, not section but chapter, in one day, and we would have homework due for the next week which they usually were about eighty to hundred problems to be solved, and the following week or two we had a chapter quiz. I took his class for credit/no-credit hence less stress on me. I could do that because his course was a pre-calculus one for me and not a transfer requirement.
Here is our class final chart.
I was apparently the only student who took his class for credit and not a letter grade, so you can see my grade clearly at #21. I have gotten a B and the second best score in his class which is great due to the effort I put in to his class.
As you can see, I am missing homework assignments which means I have not done them and just studied the book, and I have been lazy on double checking my tests’ problems and so forth. The one in which I had a +100 percent was a take home quiz. I just needed to pass his course, and he was making the class rather less interesting and fun!!!
I recall some days that I was just yawing in his class and looking at my watch waiting for his class to finish and getting out of it. Anywhere was better than his class and the odd thing is that you are hearing, or reading this from a person who loves math!!!!
On the other hand, I enjoyed my trigonometry class. He was a great instructor. While the class was an evening one, and I am not a night person, I enjoyed the learning experience. I liked how the sine and cosine worked, and I loved the complexity in some of the homework assignments. Considering the difficulty in nature of the class, I was always greeted and welcomed when I participated in the class. I had the natural ability to grasp the bigger picture, analyze and solve the problems.
My only problem would arouse when I was solving applications while I was not getting the required visualization due to various reasons such as being tired, misinterpreting, language, wordings and so on and so forth.
Any how, I earned a 92% on my final, and an A in the course.
The thought of calculus however 
me!!!
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Tuesday, June 03, 2008
madresyey moosh ha (more)
Akheysh booye vatan mideh!
khosh ba didanesh Dr O2. va baghiye doostan
:-)
Maryam.
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Saturday, May 31, 2008
Madresye moosh ha
Ok, Madreseh means school,
and moosh means mouse, and moush ha is the plural form so it means mouses.
This program was for children, and it was on the TV when I was a kid living in Iran. I recently came across it, and I thought to put it up here as well.
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oh well
Monday my spring semester will be officially over, and I will have one week to re-cover before summer school starts.
I need to clean my place, and I need to wash my car, and I need to organize tons and piles of papers. I need to take care of bills, and top of all I need to lose weight!
Would it not be nice if I could do magic and in a blink of an eye acheived all I wished?
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Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Me and blogland III
In A couple of post before I stated that I dislike the blogland’s stereotype.
I found interesting news on the Sunday newspaper regarding a law suit against MySpace.
The suit was dismissed, but the story goes as bellow:
A thirteen years old girl creates a MySpace profile, but introduces herself to be eighteen. A nineteen years old man contacts her online and after a while they speak on the phone and next step is a date in which she is sexually assaulted.
The Parents sue the MySpace for not providing enough securities in order to protect the young users, but the charge was dismissed because the judge decided that it was the young girl’s Parents responsibility to protect their daughter. However, the nineteen years old man was charged for assault.
That is an example on what I call "blogland's stereotype", and that is what I disslike.
Before posting this, I had a chat with a friend, and she said that MySpace or any internet activities are in favor of pedophiles or any predator.
I think I am tending to agree with her... more later probably.
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Thursday, May 15, 2008
Translate or not to Translate
I received the following piece through an email. I bet my Irani friend had a great laugh herself before she forwarded the email to us.
The following piece is full of Persian slangs and it is a word to word translation.
********************************
This letter was written by an employee .........back in the 1960`s to his American boss, Mr.Hamilton.
Dear Mr.Hamilton
I, the undersigned, have worked in .....in
Masjed-Solyeman for three years, But since Mr.Ahmadi
transferred here everything has changed.
I don't know 'what a wet wood I have sold him' that
from the very first day he has been 'pulling the belt
to my lift' With all kinds of 'cat dancing' he has
tried to become the 'eye and the light' of Mr.Wilson.
He made so much 'mouse running' that finally Mr.Wilson
'became donkey',
and appointed Mr.Ahmadi as his right hand man, and
told me to work 'under his hand'
Mr.Wilson promised me that next year he would make me
his right hand man, but 'my eye didn't not drink
water', and I knew that all these were
'hat play', and he was trying to put a 'hat on my
head' I 'put the seal of silence to my lips' and did
not say anything. Since that he was just
'putting watermelon under my arms' Knowing that this
transfer was only 'good for his aunt', I started
begging him to forget that I ever came
to see him and forget my visit altogether. I said 'you
saw camel, you did not see camel'....but he was not
'getting of the devils donkey'...'what headache shall
I give you' I am now forced to work in the mail house
with bunch of 'blind, bald, height and half height'
people. 'Imagine how much my ass burns'
Now Mr.Hamilton, 'I turn around your head' you are my
only hope and my 'back and shelter'....'I swear you to
the 14 innocents' please 'do some work for me'....'in
the resurrection day I`ll grasp your skirt'....'I
have six head bread eaters'.....I kiss your hand and
legs'
Your servant
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Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Rambling thoughts of...
.... an a or a not a grand daughter?
I have a class-mate who is going to go to the San Francisco on holidays (Monday, May 26 is a holiday in the USA). Her fiancé lives in SF, and they take any opportunity to be together. I asked her why he is not moving down here to the San Diego which she replied to that she wants to move up to the SF to get away from her mom and his mom.
I thought that was so common; not liking to be around our parents or Parental figures, that is. And it is very interesting since if you ask the parents, the majority of them will tell you that they wish for and do the best for their children, and it is confusing for them that why their children do not appreciate or admire them. In my mind, that clearly explains the “Games People Play” and the “hidden” messages people exchange.
I received a phone call earlier today from my uncle, but since I was in the class-room discussing the above conversation with my class-mate, I missed his call. He left me a message telling me that his or my mom’s dad or my grandfather died today. He also indicated that he has kept the news from my mother.
Now I am in a situation not knowing what to do. I want to tell my mother, and I think I will because although she is a schizophrenic, I think she holds the right to know the news. However, on my uncle’s side, he is not telling the news to my mother because he wants to protect his sister.
Here comes the Bernian Games part. I do not inform you, or you not to be informed because that is the best for you? I? Us? Them? If you ask my uncle, he would state that his keeping the news from my mother is going to benefit every-body.
In my view, however, I think my mom holds all the rights to be informed of his father’s death. I think she holds all the rights to be at any ceremony entitled to the event, and I think if other people have problems with dealing with her, they better do something for themselves other than eliminating my mom. Not even I am as entitled as my mom is to be present is my grandfather’s memorial ceremony.
He died in Iran/Tehran. He was quite old, and my last Grand alive. Now all my grand are dead. He died because he was old. I think he lived for (90-100) years. I do not feel any special sadness for two reasons mainly.
First of all, he was old enough to die in my view. Secondly, I did not know him much. I hold a very vague memory of him and his role of being a Grand-father.
I think it is amazing that unlike many people might believe, the blood says little to none in attatchments.
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Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Read it; if you do not like it.....
“Read it; if you do not like it, read it again”
Whoever wise has said the quote I agree with him/her.
I think the people who defend themselves by stating, “If you do not like it, do not read it” either already know what they say is opposable ethically, but do not want to acknowledge it, or they think of themselves so highly that only those who they approve are entitled to read their work.
Those two were the most common which came to my mind and how harmfully they can hurt other people emotionally:" Just because I object or ask “why”, I am already on the persons’ black-list. I feel my capacity to understand his/her concept is rejected. I feel like my attempt to resolve the aroused problem is put down …. TA speaking, the other persons’ wise, smart, unbeatable, and irresistible Parent puts me so proficiently down".
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Monday, May 12, 2008
Yar-e- dabestaani-e- man
My hand writing .
This hymn was one of the firsts that I was introduced to and liked it very much when I was a kid.
Lots of revolutionary thoughts, philosophies and ideas were going on back then, and some of them are being re-borned this day and age.
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me and blogland I
Who am I trying to kid? Getting on a blog and stating that I do not like what many bloggers are devoted to is risky isn’t it? I suppose not much as long as fellow bloggers are not dedicated ones. Who could dare to put their beloved, survival stream down? Oops! Sorry.
In his book, Games People Play, Eric Berne points out a life game named the Alcoholic. Unlike the common understanding the game is not about people who drink alcohol, but it is about the role people take in their lives which is similar to alcoholics.
Now, an alcoholic could be a devoted blogger, and I ,since I do not like blogland and blogging, could become the persecutor wife, who does go to the blogland only to put a hard time on her most significant, “ …under the nose of Mrs. White, who is powerless to protest. Actually it is just because she will be “powerless” to protest the Mrs. White consents to the whole arrangement, since she is just as anxious for the game to continue, with herself in the role of Persecutor, as Mr. White is with himself in the role of Alcoholic (79).
I suppose that is a beware sign.
There are many things that I do not understand about blogging. I do not understand the rush of it. One would suppose people who are good in blogging are good in any social activities, but that is not true. In fact, the majority of bloggers have problems with interacting with real people in their real lives. (Please do not jump on me,,,, I mentioned the majority and not all). Heaven knows how many people live on the planet Earth because the bloggers number of people is too many to be countable, and I gather they are not even one tenth of the whole population of the planet Earth.
Secondly, I do not understand the devotion (if there is such a word in English) of it. People treat blogging as if it is their road to freedom. As if it is their required Oxygen to stay alive. As if it is “every thing” for them. Now, do not I sound like the persecutor Mrs. White?
Some one may ask, “So what satisfies you?” interesting enough I do not have an answer. Not for now that is for sure.
ref. 
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Sunday, May 11, 2008
me and blogland
I do not like blogging and the blog land, and there is a good reason for it. Untill I get comfy enough to disclose the reason, I stay with the effect or the out come.
I was thinking of changing the blog to another site, but then I though that really won't do much or change anything for me.
so I thought to put some photos and start from scratch.
I tried flicker. for some reasons my photos won't show up. I hope i've kept some negatives and so forth.
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Thursday, May 08, 2008
Like The Parent Like The Child
Sometimes a photo speaks thousands words.
Like The parent is the child.
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Go Figure -II
This morning after quite a while, a man rang the radio station to find out about his girl-friend. I thought that was interesting. Not only she was not cheating, but also she handled the whole situation so well that it proved her being faithful.
Ok hear some for yourself.... the war of the roses
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Monday, April 07, 2008
Go Figure
I realized in my previous posting, I somehow addressed men stupid. I did not mean that.
Well, so far it is shown that there are less female than male caught. That data brings the idea in mind,,, “hmmm.. more men cheat?
Or females are more able to hide?
I do not know either; I am not a male, and as a female I never cheat.
Go figure!
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Thursday, March 20, 2008
Nowruz
Well, the year is re-newed for Iranians around the globe. It is Spring for the North Hemesphere folks.
Nowruzetan pirooz.
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Friday, March 14, 2008
My Ex-Husband the Bully
Many people walk in and out of our lives, but there are a very few who make intensive negative impressions on us. Since being his wife was my worst nightmare, I think my ex-husband was one of them. Dictionary.com defines bully, “a blustering, quarrelsome, overbearing person who habitually badgers and intimidates smaller or weaker people,” and to me, it means my ex-husband. I met my ex-husband when I was twenty years old. I dated him for seven months before my father insisted we marry because the social culture in Iran did not accept relationships between young women and men other than marriage at that time. My marriage lasted for six years, and as I recall, it was seventy-two months harassment. My ex-husband was the worst person I ever knew, and the living definition of a bully.
My ex-husband’s jealousy was unreasonable. It was common in Iranian culture to have a jealous husband, but his attitude was extreme, and crossed the line. For example, the first year of our marriage, on New Year’s Eve, he refused to speak with me in front of our guests at a party. I was embarrassed, and on the other hand, I was confused since I had no idea why he was upset. Later, I discovered he was angry because I danced with other men. He stated that I should never have danced unless I danced with him. His jealousy not only harmed me, but it also extended to other people. For instance, he used to play tennis. I remember a day that he lost his game while his friend won. He was so envious that not only did he not congratulate his friend, but he also wished his friend would get sick, and lose.
Secondly, he was egocentric and opportunistic. He was the center of the universe, or the sun rose from West. For instance, he always had to have his annual birthday parties while mine were easily forgotten. On his birthdays, I prepared, cooked, served and cleaned, so he could have fun. Furthermore, he was insensitive with our money. I had a part-time job, and I was not making enough money to pay for some of my personal expenses, but he never supported me financially. As a result, my father provided for my finances, so that I did not have more troubles than I already had. Likewise, he used to take advantage of any situation and people for his own benefit. When my father was struggling with cancer, as an example, he was planning about the inheritance.
Being a bully, in many critical situations, he changed the scenario in a way, so that I was the faulty person. For instance, I did not like funeral ceremonies, but it was his mother’s brother-in-law’s funeral. He told me that it was not crucial to attend the ceremony, so I did not. When his mother realized I did not attend the ceremony, she took it as an offense and became upset. He did not clarify the situation for his complaining mother but adopted her notion and put the blame on me. Therefore, when he came back home, he fought with me. Shouting that I did not attend the ceremony in order to humiliate his mother, he slammed on my face.
He proved his violence when he attacked me physically. He hurt me so badly that I put him in jail in order to have a document for the court. I had filed for divorce. We were already living separately, and I was home from seeing my lawyer that night. He called me, but I hung up on him because, as usual, he was fighting with me. He was stating that he was the powerful one in our relationship, and if he did not wish it, I would never be free. I did not want to continue the conversation, and my lawyer recommended as little contact as possible. Failing to bully me through the phone, he drove to my place. He banged and yelled at the front door. I told him I did not want to argue with him under that situation. Nonetheless, he climbed the wall. He broke my apartment’s door, and the last thing I recall is that I was being beaten up. I screamed for help, and the neighbors gathered around at my front door. My body was bruised and swollen; my left ear lost its ability to hear for a week; above and beyond my wounded body, my soul ached.
His bullying personality had such negative impacts on me that for quite a few years after our divorce, I was horrified to get involved in any relationship. I moved in to a new neighborhood in order to protect myself from his possible attacks. Men in general seemed scary, abusive and violent. However, I had to heal and move on with my life. I struggled for years in order to be able to trust men again, but I was proud that I never enforced what he did to me upon others. Nevertheless, I learned an unforgettable lesson. I learned people select the ways they live. Disliking my choice, I had options to change my way of life, and I did.
Work Cited
“Bully.” Dictionary.com. 2008. 5 March. 2008 < http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/bully >.
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Wednesday, January 02, 2008
pregnant teenagers
Thanks to the 2007-2008 seasonning holidays, I have gotten the chance to observe some others' such as many homeless , drunks, illegals, white trashes,etc... and teenager preganants or parents.
I was more concerned about the youngesters who were already parents or going to be ones. I recall in one instance , I met a very very young girl with 3 kids while pregnant with another one. I thought it wasn't right. I thought it shouldn't be that way. I thought she was too young to be a mother at first place. I thought about her children, about the future of her relationships etc.
The most striking thing was that all I was observing was inside the USA, and not in a third world country in which people are less informed or educated about physical, social , psychological health and humanities!!! so it was too hard for me to digest or grasp what I was observing.
I was thinking all the time, "what's the difference ?"
Maryam.
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Monday, July 30, 2007
Going to my first TA conference
From a week from now, I will be headed for my first TA, Transactional Analysis, conferense in San Francisco, CA, USA.
Kahless asked me to blog a bit about it.
I got introduced to TA when I was 26 years old. I needed therapy because I was very depressed. I couldn't stop crying back then, and no one's help really helped me. I remember the day I said, " I need professional help".
Gladly I met a TA therapist, and I'm yet his client.
Through my therapy, I got interested in psycholgy and how humans' brains function.
After a couple of years that I immigrated in the USA, I decided to go to school and study psychology.
I'm excited about it the conference a lot. Not only because that it's my first TA conference, but also that I will have the opportunity to interact with people who are caring, and in a nurturing environment.
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Saturday, July 21, 2007
When things go wrong
I just got back home from a strange experience.
I went to the public coin laundry earlier to do some thing and stop feeling like I'm a loser since I do not have or meet many friends. So there is this guy walking out side. I thought that was cool while waiting for my clothes to get dried why not talking to someone? So I go ahead and start talking. He was funny and made me laugh a lot. He did impress me with how well he figured my name or where I am from and by knowing a bit Arabic. He works in an Irish pub. so far so good.
Then here comes ; "Are you married?" he asks me. "no" I say.
" How come an attratctive woman like is not married?"
"That's the question many people ask me"
"you have nice legs, pretty face, you're fun and attractive; you have it all what men would like"
"Thanks; that is a nice complement"
Now, I'm in the mood that this guy can be a great friend. He is in the mood to date me.
" May be we can have some coffee some time" he asks.
"sure"
"So can I get your phone number?"
"yes"
After I give him my number; he says" you know, I'm really attracted to you, and I think you are to me"
"oh no!" I thought, then said " I think we can be good friends to catch up with some time to time"
"But, I'm attracted to you. like I like kissing you may be in 5 years along?do you understand what I mean"
"No, I don't think so", I say.
now, I hope he doesn't call.
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Wednesday, July 18, 2007
The Parent
I'm big. I'm the god. I rule. I own you all.
My words are the words. you must obey or you die.
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Wednesday, July 11, 2007
something to ponder
She always had this belief "if I'm fat, I'm a loser".
Being a loser would generalize in all fields, especially in attracting a mate.
She gets the guy
They have the fun.
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Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Invisible abused Child
She never was beaten up, sexually assaulted or so forth as many abused Children were during their childhood, in her case while a child, she saw children being abused.
she very much understood the concept of being invisible, not seen.
For years, she was the one who wouldn't take the risk to go a bit further of what she illude she was allowed to. For years, she never talked with her classmates or people cos if she did, she was bad and deserved a punishment while she didn't want to be punished.
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Saturday, June 30, 2007
silly advertisements
The other morning when I was driving in my car, I heard an advertisement encouraging women to get some plastic surgery done to look good in their bikinis.
It started like,
" Have you never bought a swim suit for years?
Have you never been to the beach for years?
Are you uncomfortable with your body?
.
.
go to .... center.....
and get the body you want!"
I thought it was ridiculous.
I immigrated from a country in the US that a woman's body is almost a curse if seen. something like ham's curse.
those people will kill you if you wear a bikini or show any part of your body but your face.
So, I know what it means when I feel my body is bad.
They will beat you up to obey, or breaking you like a slave.
well, my father's family did.
I'm still struggling with accepting my body, but I will never make the case worse by getting some surgery done. I know it is not the solution.
I recall a day at a gas station when I saw a quite huge fat woman wearing a short and top. I told the relative of mine," the day I be able to wear such a thing regardless of the size of my body, I'm cured, and i will get thin"
The advertisement also included:
" The first step is always the most difficult.
take the first step now
enjoy the summer wearing your bikini,
just call......center and get an appointment
..
"
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Thursday, June 21, 2007
Womanizer
I had heard the term, womanizer, before, and I thought most men liked to be one! I'm not a man, so I do not know if it is true or not.
Today in school, the teacher mentioned someone who was a womanizer, and then she asked the same question I always had in my mind," why would a man want to be that?"
I said, "attention"
a male classmate of mine said, "because they "can". "
So, is it a big thing to have many females wanting or having sex with a man without love or any contract?
Is it a "showing" to their other male mates that they "win"? like nonverbally saying to other men, " I got them all, but you can't"?
Like triggering other men, showing off their manhoodness or whatever the name is?
I just don't know!
Womanizer
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Wednesday, May 30, 2007
No kidding!
"A has no money," D said.
"How do you know?" I asked puzzled.
"Didn't you have a look inside his refrigerator? It's empty"
"HUH" was my response. A's frig wasn't empty to me as he had some eggs and things in it, and more puzzling was how D defined "having money"! Further more, "What's with D to consider A has money or not"
Well, the latest, I remember, is considered "loving" or "caring", Parental one of course, in the culture I got adapted in. So, they look at you, look for flaws;" oh what's wrong with your eye; it's swollen" " oh, what happened to your skin; it's broozed" " oh, did you cut your self with a knife? your skin is wonded" and so endlessly the list goes on:
flaws,
flaws,
flaws!
And their solution?
Eat
Eat
Eat
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Tuesday, May 29, 2007
run turtle
run turtle run!!!
Damn you turtle; why don't you run.
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Saturday, May 26, 2007
the narcistic of "Chicago" movie
The narcistic!
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Thursday, May 24, 2007
eating contest
Is that about how fast they eat or how "much" they eat?
Those are lots of stuff they are eating at once!!!
Could this make an appealing food for eating contests?It does to some!.
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Wednesday, May 23, 2007
hunches
I was asked to take my mother to hospital some days ago, so she could have her MRI done. I took her, but she didn't staye under the machine enough to complete her test. She wanted out after a minute.
The doctor, or technician talked with me about it since she does say none sense stuff a lot when she is talked with. He said, " They are not allowed to force people to do a test when people refuse to do it" I thought that was very interesting. Now, here is my mother, diagnosed as a schizophrenic, not allowed to leave the place she leaves in because she gets lost. But, still is obsereved as a free person , with free choices to make what she wants to do with