Don’t worry.

I feel fine.

And I’m still reading your blog.

I’m just not commenting because I’m busy.

I miss you.

I know you miss me, too.

Hi, this is Faiqa.

Thanks for visiting my blog.

I’m sorry I’m not here right now because I’m fighting a vast right wing conspiracy over at The blog of whall.

If you’d like to leave a message, please do so over there.

Have a great day!

My in-laws are coming!! For five weeks!!

I’m lucky that they’re nice people.  Loving people.  Even wonderful.

The truth is that as soon as a person gets the title “in-law” attached to their familial identifier, they go a little crazy.

Nobody is immune to this law of nature.

Not even me the daughter-in-law or sister-in-law.

I would not arrogantly presume that I didn’t aim some crazy remark at Tariq’s parents or MBTD’s wife that made them think, Really? I can’t believe we have to be related to this psycho.

Anyway, for the most part, the in-laws and I have a great relationship based on mutual respect, genuine love and a good sense of humor about life in general.  In every way, I’d say our relationship is ideal.

As ideal as it can be.  (Don’t forget the parts of our brain that generally control empathy, sensitivity, ego stroking and general tact are somewhat diminished when we became a something-in-law.)

It helps that the in-laws and I share a very core value:  Family Harmony and Togetherness.

Being part of Tariq’s family taught me that no person’s ego, sensitivity or insecurity is bigger than the unity of this family.  While this may seem complicated and reflect inequity to the people who stand outside of this circle, I assure you it’s not like that on the inside.

Do they tell us what they think we should do?  Yes.  Oh, yes.

Do we tell them what we think they should do?  Yes.  Definitely.

And everyone takes everyone else seriously when they offer advice.  And everyone considers the advice and does what’s best not only everyone, but for them.  This isn’t just family.  It’s friendship, too.

Does anyone stomp their feet and hold their breath and stand in the corner and say, I’m taking my ball and I’m going home because you guys are losers for not listening to me?  No.  Never once in front of me, anyway.

My in-laws are also very fair people.  They have never taken my loyalty for granted.  And they have my loyalty because they’ve always been loyal to me.

They have shown me generosity and acceptance, and as a self described fair person… I owe it to them to do the same.

So, yeah, people freak out when I say they’re coming for five weeks.  And, I understand why.  But, they don’t need to freak out.  We’re going to be fine because of all the things I explained.

In the end, we’re committed to each other.

In this marriage, we both knew we were marrying each other’s family.  We knew that there was going to be a lot of compromise, and that it might get tough every now and then.  In our own ways, I believe we gained a lot by approaching it that way.

Plus, if it the next five weeks gets really hard?

I have an additional strategy planned as backup.

What about you guys? How often and for how long do the in laws come to visit? Is it fun or is it like swallowing large shards of glass with a rubbing alcohol chaser?

10 Things I Wish I Could Say

Obviously not to the same person.

(Idea plagiarized from Avitable).

1. Be happy.  That’s an order.  Please.

2. I just can’t be your friend anymore… perhaps, in a few years, when you’re more of a grown up?

3. It’s not my fault that you were mistreated by someone else.  Don’t make me suffer because you’ve been hurt by someone who didn’t care for you the way they should have.

4. If you have a problem with everyone, that usually means that you are the problem.

5.  When I think of you, I immediately remember that God is good.  I love you.

6.  Even if you’re not sorry, even if you don’t think you’re wrong, I forgive you.

7. I feel incredibly lucky that we’re friends.  Thank you.  Thank you for being my friend.

8.  I’m sorry, I wish I had been who you thought I could be.

9. Your stamina for harboring grudges is almost admirable.

10.  You’re amazing and completely fascinating.  I want to be more like you, tell me, how do I do that?

…

Why do we censor ourselves?

The mean things on this list, I censor because I don’t want to hurt people’s feelings.

Just because I think someone is annoying doesn’t mean they don’t deserve a little courtesy.  Everyone deserves a little courtesy, in my opinion.

More often, I don’t say those mean things because I know it’s not going to change anything.

I don’t hate anyone.  (No, seriously.  Not even Ann Coulter).

I just give up on people. I think I heard somewhere that hell isn’t God’s wrath, it’s his indifference.  That’s me.  Like God.  (Fatwa, anyone?)

The other stuff on that list?  I avoid saying them because of my fears.  I’m afraid that if I tell people in my life that I really and truly admire them or that I love them, that they won’t believe me.  Or worse, that they won’t care.

Or, even worse, that they’ll smile, turn around and snicker about what a total stalker I am and oh-my-God-can-you- believe-she-just-said-that?

I’m old enough to know that just because you think the world of someone else, it doesn’t mean they have to like you back.

They can even dislike you.

They can even hate you.

They can even rather want to hang out with a nasty drunk homeless guy than talk to you for another painfully excruciating second.

Still, I’m proud of the fact that I don’t let that fear cloud the way I live my life.  I won’t let that fear diminish the belief, that someone I know (or will know) deserves for me to grab their hand, look them in the eye, and tell them that they are an inspiration.

Maybe because of their talent.

Their simple and loving heart.

Their wit and charm.

Their selflessness.

Their unconscious generosity.

Their desire to see the people they love treated well.

Their quiet strength.

Or just because when I sit next to them, I feel happier, or better, or more peaceful.

For Tami, Traci, Britt and everyone else who should be told more often how much they mean to me and how very much I think of them.

And especially for Tariq.

Of course.  Always for Tariq.

I used to collect Disney villain figurines, until they started getting silly.

And by “silly” I mean male.

Self proclaimed post feminist status aside, I assert that real fairy tales, at least the good ones, have female villains.

The later Disney villains, like that guy from Beauty and the Beast or the one from Pocahontas, are just not scary enough. Scar from Lion King? Although quite evil and crush worthy given the Jeremy Irons voice over, he still doesn’t hold a candle to the lovely ladies who ruled the empire in the early years of Disney animation.

The exception to this rule would be Jaffar from Aladdin.  For a few reasons, but mostly because he has a turban.  Also because let’s face it, he was a little effeminate. He was basically a queen with facial hair.

The traditional symbolism in fairy tales revolves around the juxtaposition not just of good and evil, but of purity and impurity (both of the soul and the physical).  They also reveal the traditional view that life is polarity… that there is good and there is evil and that little exists between them.

This point of view fascinates me because it’s very different than what I believe. The difference exists, I assume, because existentialism and relativism were being born when these movies were first made.  As a child born in the late 20th century, they were well grounded, or well on their way ot being so, in the American psyche when I happened on the scene.

Additionally, the female villains also fascinate me because women often play central roles in the discussion of what is pious versus that which is sinful in my heritage (and among those discussing my heritage).  Another dichotomy: paramount importance and unabashed objectification.

Anyway, I started collecting the villain figurines when I was 13 or so.  I think I realized early on that life isn’t exactly the way it is in fairy tales (or in family room discussions).  I would look at these little statues and admire how beautiful they were.  How determined they were in getting what they wanted at all costs. How completely irreverent they were regarding expected mores and behavior.

And as I considered the costs for their determination and irreverence, I reveled in the depth that those struggles represented. I pondered over the truth of the consequences presented.

Snow White, Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty, they remain unchanged and exist as eternal virgins.

The queens, the stepmothers, the evil fairies, though?  To me, they blossom in each telling of the story. Every visit exposes a new layer, a new motivation, perhaps even a new explanation for me.

Unlike their virginal victims, they’re twisted, varied, glorious, flawed… human.

She asks for the girl’s heart.

In.  A.  Box.

How badass is that?