3eedy mbarak? Yeah, whatever...
I came to a quiet and yet, somehow, revolutionary revelation (wordplay anyone?) this morning. I am not a 3eed person... That's right. The three or four day holiday which celebrates the end of one month of torture... I mean, religious awareness... just does not sway me one bit.. I have a sneaking feeling that this general abhorrance to this holiday has roots that stretch far into my childhood. Perhaps this feeling has been quietly filed away in my subconscious, sharing the domain with my fear of harees and my Anjelina complex... Allow me to illustrate:
1. I stopped buying new "Eid" clothes when I was eight.
2. I have not now, nor have I ever, reserved a special outfit for "Eid", refusing to wear it until Eid when I would parade around the malls in my new duds. (As if people know that they're new!)
3. By the age of thirteen, I was actually begging my male relatives not to give me any money. I found that to be so humiliating and, somehow, offensive.
4. The best Eid of my life was the Eid after I got my job. (See illustration #3 for reason.)
5. Celebrating Eid, for me, is about taking my first morning trip to Starbucks in a month, walking in and accepting a coffee that was made for me in under three minutes. Now that's love.
6. The only good thing about the first day of Eid this year was me sitting at my PC, typing out this post with my cat curled up in my lap purring.
So, folks, that's my Eid in a nutshell. For all of you that truly enjoy this time of the year, I extend my congratulations and felicitations on this holy holiday! O 3asakom it3oodoona inshalla :)
'Every hottie is someone else's dork'