Snapshot: Deer in my backyard

One of the things that I enjoy a great deal about living in the suburbs, away from the hustle and bustle of the city, is the easy access to nature and wildlife. Last week, while I was sipping my morning coffee and flipping through the weekend edition of the Washington Post, I glanced at our backyard and low and behold there were deer, four of them, right outside my dining room.

They just wandered around, nibbled on some of our trees, and chilled for a while until they decided it was time to move on. Such beautiful animals, I tell you! This is a scene that is really worth my daily commute back and forth to work. Long live the suburbs!

Grabbing our piece of the American dream

One of the reasons I've been quiet during the past few months is because the husband and I have been working hard to achieve this. Yes. We made it, finally. We are proud homeowners.

We are elated that after four years of marriage, we now own a house that we plan to keep for a while. While Jeff is already planning the design of his "TV room," where he can put all his toys to good use, I'm busy mapping out the dining room in anticipation of the many, many parties we plan to host.

If anyone has plans to visit the DC metro area anytime soon, remember that our house is always open. And yes, we finally have a guest room.

Single white hair

For the past few months, the husband and I have been doing a great deal of reading and research on how to achieve the ultimate American dream: buying our first house. Traveling this path has been both exciting and stressful. In the interim, I had to learn a whole new language: The language of the American real estate. This language includes terms like PMI, seller contribution, closing costs, interest-only, buyer's agent, open house, appraisal and others.

I have been so stressed out about the whole process that I woke up yesterday and found one single white hair on my head. The last time I had a single white hair was four years ago when I was preparing for my wedding, which was followed by a new job in a new country. It goes without saying that the white hair has made me even more stressed out. In addition to thinking about the best way to pursue the American dream, I'm now thinking about aging and the deterioration of my own body. Sigh! If only life could be less stressful.

Demolition Derby: A truly baffling pastime

Last weekend I learned about (and experienced) the American pastime dubbed: Demolition Derby. Thanks to Leiloulta and spouse we made our way to the Montgomery County Fair, which featured the derby among other things.

I have to admit that I was quite baffled watching this demolition take place to the cheers of nearly a thousand spectators. So what is this event exactly? It is a way of getting rid of nearly-dead vehicles by smashing them into other almost-dead vehicles until they die, to the applause of an excited crowd. The winner is the person whose car continues running after all others die.

The testosterone-fueled event was fascinating for me. It's not that I enjoy destruction or the sight of dead cars. I was intrigued by how my husband along with other male friends in our group were sucked into the event. There is something about cars and demolition that makes such an event as enjoyable to men as, let's say, tanning on the beach with a Piña Colada is for women. I could not find it in myself to cheer or stomp with the animated crowd, as they did when one car flipped over and a firetruck had to intervene. I got agitated and kept wondering if the driver was okay. Somehow the driver came out unscathed and kept on driving.

Would I attend such an event again? I don't think so. Been there, done that. Did I regret seeing it? Not at all. It was quite an experience seeing up-close-and-personal how men and women's interests can be such oceans apart. When I asked my parents, who had accompanied us, what they thought of the event, they simply said: "Crazy!" Crazy indeed.

Snapshot: Frogs at the Nataional Aquarium

This past Memorial Day Weekend, we took my long-time friends, who were here visiting from Amman, to Baltimore to marvel at the breathtaking sea creatures on display at the National Aquarium. While there, my super-talented husband took this phenomenal picture of this live frog chilling inside a tank at the aquarium. In my humble, completely unbiased opinion, I think this is one of the best photos I have seen in a while. The picture is just too good to be true. The colors are so vibrant and alive and the frog just looks extremely engaged. Just look at its tiny hands! It is just perfect. Way to go hubby! Here are some more frog pictures taken by the talented Mr Tynes. [Clicking the picture links to a BIG version.]

Snapshot: Lost in Narnia's world

The very day after Amal's arrival here for a five-day vacation, the DC metro area got hit by a huge snowstorm. It was the biggest so far this winter, pumping out about six inches of snow in the suburbs where we live. Amal loved it. Somehow it helped her turn off and detach herself -- at least for a bit -- from the political madness she left behind in her home, Beirut. After taking a nice walk in the nearby park on the day of the storm, we returned home to look at the pictures we had taken taken. "Wow! This is amazing ... this looks like Narnia," said Amal of one of the pictures. [Image enlarges on click]. Indeed, for a while we were in Narnia's world, far, far away from a land we both adore, a land that will eventually always conquer our thoughts no matter how hard we try to distant ourselves from it.

Man on a mission

On my way to the post office the other day, I was approached by a young man on a bike. He was wearing a helmet and a dark blue suit jacket. Pinned to his jacket was a name tag in both English and Chinese. The young man wanted to tell me about his mission: Espousing the virtues of the Church of Jesus Christ of Later-Day Saints and the Book of Mormon. The young man, with facial hair just barely visible, seemed a bit nervous. I thought I might have been the first person he approached. Maybe I was the first soul he was trying to save.

I did not want to disappoint him. I took the flier he offered me, wondering to myself what his reaction would be if I told him I come from the Holy Land. I put the flier in my purse and headed to the post office. I mailed my package and headed back home.

Then, in the comfort of my own room, I gave the flier a closer look. I kept looking at the image on the front side of the flier trying to decipher what kind of message it was trying to convey. Flipping the flier over, I found an invitation to receive another testament of Jesus Christ. I paused, looking at the word "another" in disbelief. As someone who believes that the Bible is the only testimony of Jesus Christ, I could not buy the young man's mission.

But the incident stayed with me for a few days. Eventually I decided to let it go. As I currently live in a country where freedom of religion and freedom of speech are safeguarded, I should expect more similar encounters. The next time, though, I will proclaim that I come from the Holy Land.

The wonders of blogging

One of the few perks about having a blog (and believe me they are few, as I primarily get yelled at on this blog) is meeting people. Yes, through Mental Mayhem I've gotten the chance to meet -- offline -- a number of fascinating and interesting individuals.

The most recent encounter was meeting reader "Scooby," who has been following this humble blog for over a year now. Scooby, a Jordanian living in the US, happened to be in our neck of the woods during this Memorial Day weekend so he contacted me hoping that we could meet up. Scooby was kind enough to invite us to a family BBQ and we gladly accepted. We had a great time in every sense of the word.

Not only did we get to meet a number of Jordanians, Palestinians and other nationals who live in the area, but we ate wonderful food and had fascinating discussions. We also got the chance to meet the Mrs. Scooby and some of Scooby's friends. There was never a lull in then conversation or an awkward moment. We talked and interacted as if we'd known each other forever. We will definitely keep in touch and work to build this into a long-lasting relationship. Ah, the wonders of blogging!

The trip back 'home'

I'm back to the US after a hectic 20-hour trip from my parent's place in Amman to our apartment in Maryland. The 13-hour Royal Jordanian flight from Amman to Chicago was long -- way too long. I was -- and still am -- suffering from a nasty cold that left me coughing and sneezing for the duration of the trip. It was truly awful. As for traveling RJ, everyone on the plane was animated as usual. For some reason, the concept of reading on the plane is practically non-existent amongst the majority of RJ travelers. As a result, everyone was quite sociable and chatty, making the idea of taking a nap almost impossible.

Anyway, enough ranting about Jordan's national carrier. The best thing about traveling with RJ is that everyone on the plane claps upon landing. Quick question: Is this only a Jordanian tendency? Don't get me wrong; I really like it. When arriving at Chicago's airport, the immigration official there told me "welcome home." That was when it hit me. I left home to go back home! This is my existence nowadays. I live in limbo, with my heart divided between two different places. It's really an overwhelming and -– sometimes -- trying existence!

Meanwhile, here in Maryland, the spring is just wonderful. The weather is very pleasant and the cornucopia of spring colors is simply breathtaking. Yes, I'm really glad to be back.

If I were to evaluate the two weeks I spent in Jordan, I would say that they were simply wonderful in every sense of the word. The most important thing for me was the quality time spent with my family. As for my assessment of the capital Amman, it seems to be doing really well. Money seems to be pumping into this city, as it becomes more cosmopolitan by the day. Construction is taking place literally everywhere. Brand spanking new projects are mushrooming up all over the place and the talk of foreign investments is continual.

Even my friends who mange their own businesses in the city seem quite content and optimistic. They assured me that new projects are being handed to them all the time and that their business is booming. However, everyone was complaining about the hike in gas prices in Jordan. I was shocked to realize that nowadays filling my old Kia Pride with gas requires double the amount I used to pay only a few years ago.

During my visit, I could not get myself acquainted with all the security checks taking place all over -– an aftermath of the terrorist attacks in Jordan last November. One shocking and unusual scene was finding a security guard in front of our church on Easter morning. I asked my sister about the unusual scene and she told me it was nothing compared to last Christmas when a number of police cars were parked outside the church during the service. It was really sad to realize that churches are among the potential targets in Jordan. Churches, of all things; churches that are attended by no other than Jordanians themselves.

Anyway, on a totally different subject I'm glad to announce that I returned armed with all the goodies that make life worth living: Baklava, Turkish coffee, Jameed, Arabic spices and nuts. Happy times await!

A wonderful weekend with Amal

We spent this past weekend with our dear friend Amal, who was in town for a few days. We met at DC's breathtaking Union Station, where we sat, had lunch and talked like there was no tomorrow. While munching on pizza, we both came to the conclusion that life can at times surprise you, taking you places while you are just too busy to notice. We had met Amal during our Doha stint last year. So it was fascinating to realize that, at that moment, we were sitting in Washington, DC and having lunch in one of the most beautiful train stations in the country. "From Doha to Union Station," Amal giggled. "It should be the title of a book."

We did lots of touring in and around Maryland, taking Amal to the sailing city of Annapolis and then, after a wonderful lunch at Pusser's, on to Baltimore's Inner Harbor. Both cities were alive and buzzing with activity, although each had a distinctive vibe.

Amal is now on her way home to Lebanon, while we return to our daily routines. Nothing beats reuniting with a close friend! Amal is already dearly missed.