Blog 10- Christmas TIME or Stress-mass TIME?

It sure is Christmas in Hong Kong. Santa lights from the Tsim Sha Shui buildings are shimmering reflections on the harbor front, Christmas carols are living it up in every single HK Starbucks with snowflakes glued all over the glass doors, and not to mention, a 99% probability that Mariah Carey’s “All I want for Christmas is youuuuu, yeaaahhhh” is playing in my room if you ever decide to randomly pop in.

I don’t think I’m missing out on the Christmas experience back home at all, it’s all here baby!! What I’m really missing out on though is pretty much ammm… everything ELSE. Like HOME. Just being home, O my God how much I miss home right now? Words, simple words cannot explicate the yearning of a lonely heart right here right now. I miss my mom, I miss my dad, O my brother all the way in LA… I miss him so much. I miss being able to drive in my mom’s car and go to Smouha, drive around McDonalds 2 times before I decide that I will go ahead and buy that stupid vanilla milkshake and not give a d*** about my weight anymore. And not to feel bad, I will buy one for Basma too and go over to her house and honk honk honk until she comes down. And then we car surf as Arabic music jiggles our senses with energy as laughter consumes our lungs so much that we can explode. And then stick our hands out of the car, and scream. I want to go to Carrefour and talk in Arabic to all the sales people, let them know I care. I want to see Zenab and hug her and tell her I miss her and that I’ll be neater and clean up my room so she doesn’t have to do anything anymore. I want to stroll in San Stefano and see all those people I haven’t seen in so long and tell them I wasn’t in America, “No no nooo, I was in Hong Kong, and it was the best!!”

I want to see my mom’s smile, my dad’s craziness, and around my brother’s perks. I want them all NOW.
I don’t think I can take this anymore. I don’t want to study, I can’t study. Pimples are on their way from deep under my skin to strategic locations where you can easily spot them on my face—firm and red and hazardous—and did I mention, ugly. I hate my skin.

I have so much work. It is endless, it is endless, it is endlesssssssssssssssssss. I’m trying to read 2 text books, so much for all the work I did during the past 3 or so months in Hong Kong. And oh, write 2 essays. And oh, blogs too. I never forgot about them, I just.. whatever, never a good excuse.

Now I’m here again. I better get back to writing my essays, either one of them would do!