Walking the Walk Part 2

 

Do dreams come true? I don’t know the answer to that, but I do know that many wishes I secretly or publicly wished for did come true. This is my Walking the Walk part 2 that took place here in the United States since Walking the Walk part 1 was about the first twenty six years of my life back home. But my wishes started back home and coming to the US was one of them. Here it goes….

Dream One

When the song “Heaven is a place on earth” came out, I started singing it along Belinda Carlisle referring the the US being heaven on earth. At the time, I knew nothing, absolutely nothing about the US. I didn’t even know the difference between CA and NY. What I did know though is that I wanted to be a singer/songwriter and I wanted to sing in English due to my obsession with the English language and songwriting. I thought that the US would be the place to launch my musical career. I knew I wanted that, I didn’t know where or how to start. I guess that’s why I looked at it as a dream.

I grew up with a friend whom I considered a brother. I loved spending time with him. We talked about the US, we talked about singing, raced to buy Madonna tapes, ran our family chores together, listened to music together. One day out of the blue he called me to go over to his place for a surprise. He started telling me a very long story about his adventure then boom, he flashed his passport in my face showing me the American visa stamped on one of its pages. I was torn apart between feeling joy for him and feeling kind of betrayed that he did it all behind my back while knowing all along that it was what I wanted for my future. We were both 25 at the time.

My choice was to look at his adventure as guidance that filled me with hope . I wished him good luck and off he went to CA. I remember feeling loss when I went with him to the bus station that took him to the airport. I wanted to go with him. I didn’t know that I just lost my best friend.

I made an appointment at the American embassy. I was graduating from school that year and my professor told me that I should get my Masters in the US after reading some of the songs I wrote. I got my bachelors degree in English in September of 1999 and on December 5th of that same year, I was flying to the US. I am finally flying to that place I associated with Belinda’s song. 

My friend who flew three months before me, had already moved from CA to NY by then. He was waiting for me at the airport in NYC. There, I was hoping that we would embark on a journey of discovery together. But that night, I got the second slap on my face when he said to me that we cannot live together. He moved out next morning. I didn’t understand, I couldn’t understand, jet lag, new surroundings, confusion. I did not argue. I was left alone in an underground studio in Brooklyn. He started his career and moved on with his life. I got the news that my scholarship was turned down and the landlord gave me a deadline to leave her studio since I was not working.

Within two months, I packed my bags and left NY to CA after I made a phone call to a childhood friend who told me to come to LA to help me find my place. I took her up on her offer.

I landed in LA and crashed on her sofa in Inglewood for 10 days, found a job as a busboy, and found a tiny little bachelor pad that I rented next to her place and started my American dream. It is weird how things work out. My friend moved to CA and ended up in NY. I moved to NY and ended up in CA. I guess we were just not meant to live in the same state. Or maybe no state was big enough for the two of us to live in. Our relationship was a rollercoaster ride. 

At that time I had my life savings from back home with me; $3000.00. Within a couple of months I lost all my money to a scam artist who claimed that she was a lawyer who could help me change my visa status. Again, I could have taken that as an excuse to pack up and go back home or as a lesson to be careful and stop being naive about trusting people. I was determined to make it. I thought the stolen money was my only insurance in case of emergencies. Little did I know that my youth, my hard work, my ambition, and my discipline were my strengths and my assurance to a future that included many many dreams coming true.


Dream Two & Three & Four

My friend and her family cared for me. They helped me with everything they possibly could. They took me during my very first weekend there to a city called Santa Monica. I fell in love with that city. It wasn’t about comparing it to Inglewood, it was more about seeing how much walking and outdoor activities I could do there. It was about the beach, the parks, the weather, the energy, etc. I secretly wished that one day I could live there but didn’t dare to say it out loud because I had no confidence in myself. It felt at the time as an impossible dream. But I wished for it anyway.

After struggling for three years with many jobs of minimum and below minimum wages from busing tables, to cleaning carpets, building fences, painting walls, being a stock-boy at a liquor store, I finally got accepted at Bank of America as a teller. Even getting that job was after I was rejected by two other banks. I wanted to break the news to my family since my mother was sick worried about me working at a liquor store. Now back in the day, communicating with your folks overseas was not the way we know it today. I had to write letters, yes real letters. I had to call my family’s landline from my landline once a month using expensive calling cards, keep the calls to a minimum, share the good news and hide the bad ones. I told my mom that I became a teller at the bank. She was so excited that I finally quit the liquor store where two guys before me were shot to death (and of course I didn’t share that part of my story with her, neither did I tell her that I was assaulted in front of my Inglewood apartment, ended up unconscious at UCLA emergency room with broken bones, bleeding mouth, concussion, and no memory for three days).

My mom told me that in no time I will become a manager. That was NOT my dream. My dream was to save $10000. I had been living hand to mouth for a few years by then and I wanted to make money so I could start recording my music. I found a second job as a barista at Starbucks at night and the process of saving started.

Within six months of being a teller, I became a personal banker. I moved out of the bachelor pad in Inglewood to a studio in Culver City and bought my first brand new car; a Toyota corolla with manual windows, manual door lock, manual everything, and I was the proud owner after driving a 1987 beat-up rusted corolla for two years. Dream two came true, I finished recording my first record titled “Silence in a Voice” by age 30. Dream three came true, I saved my first $10K.

Within two years of being a banker, I became a manager (my mom’s dream came true) and I quit Starbucks to start tutoring Arabic as a second language. Dream four came true, I moved out of my Culver City studio to a one bedroom apartment in Santa Monica, two blocks away from the Third Street Promenade and 4 blocks away from the beach. I lived there for 3 years and moved to a two bedroom unit a block closer to the beach where I stayed for 4 years. I lived in my dream city for 7 years. I never took any day there for granted. I loved it there. While working for the bank I met a couple who worked for a plastic surgeon and we become best friends. Keeping up with the corporate never-ending policies, I articulated casually my wish to work for a small business one day, like them.

Dream Five & Six & Seven

I wanted to own my own condo so I started saving for a down-payment. After watching a documentary called “The Secret”, I embraced the positive outlook on life in so many aspects; one of which, there is enough for everyone. I quit banking and started advertising my tutoring jobs on craigslist. I officially started my own business.  Bank of America asked me to go back as a part-time personal banker and in return they offered me benefits. It was a no -brainer so I worked at the bank two and a half days a week and tutored at every opportunity. I started going to open houses to look for two-bedroom condos and I stumbled across a charming condo in the city of West Hollywood. I loved West Hollywood. I found it similar to Santa Monica; a city where one could walk to restaurants, the gym, grocery stores, bars and clubs, & coffee-shops. I knew that I would want to live there. It was slightly less expensive than owning a place in Santa Monica but way too expensive for me. I ended up in a city I’ve never heard of before then; Valley Village. I ended up where I was very clear on not wanting to be; the Valley.

Little did I know that the Valley was my good luck charm; starting my Masters program, transitioning to West Hollywood, and working for a small business all happened there. My tutoring went up from kids, to high-school graduates, and from undergraduates to graduates. It inspired me to go back to school and get my Masters in teaching English as a second language so dream 5 came true. While living there, I met with a doctor who owned a medical Spa and ended up working for him and dream 6 came true. Finally, after living there for 4 years, I made a good profit selling my condo which I used as a down payment on a condo in West Hollywood.


Dream Eight and Nine and hundred …..

I continue believing now more than ever that if things were meant to happen, they will happen. But attracting them is the first step. To attract something, one should believe that good things can happen to him/her and that they are worthy of receiving those good things. I have so many dreams that I couldn’t make come true in timely manners. One of them was being able to find my mother a place to live on her own. Having a parent living with you in your forties is no joke. But no matter how hard I worked at it, it was not happening. I didn't want to give up but I'm only human and sometimes patterns of failed events tell you stories that make you desperate. Mom stayed with me for six years before I could have her move into the only place she wanted to move to; downtown Burbank. Now she's happy that she settled down somewhere safe where she's able to walk her walks and feel somewhat independent. I am happy that she's happy and I am very proud of her. 
Another dream that did not come true is breaking into the music industry. Do I still write songs? Hell yes. Do I still believe that I could become a singer? Well, I am a singer. But that was meant to remain a hobby. I am still writing the soundtrack of my life and singing at every opportunity. I believe in magic and I believe that I deserve good things so I dare to dream them and if half of them come true, then I’m so damn lucky. I also believe that nothing will come true if I sit down and wait for things to fall in my lap. Magic can happen with hard work and that’s the difference between talking the talk and walking the walk. 
They say that people don't age when their skin wrinkles, but rather they age when their hopes and dreams wrinkle. I will always dream with hope and believe that anything is possible and most importantly that I’m worthy. 

People Don't Change

A lot of people believe that people are not capable of change and that they are the products of their environment. So regardless if they’re fifteen or fifty, they simply don’t change.

I think we are the product of our environment. But if we don’t change, then we are all victims and our actions and thoughts become predictable. People do change. Some do it consciously and others go through circumstances and experiences that make them change. It can be hard work. People change when they believe there’s more to their beings, when they take the time to reflect on right and wrong, on actions and reactions, and when they’re ambitious enough to take the steps they need to improve their lives. Those who advocate the inability to change on the other hand, choose to be victims.

Some very close friends I grew up with reject the change I inevitably acquired. Some even imprisoned me in the hot-blooded teenager I used to be. Some say they know me better than I know myself. Being able to think on my feet and having my tricks up my sleeve did not serve me in situations I needed to take a step back. Being the one who always had to have the final word made me regret those final words. Being confrontational was counter productive. Making decisions while I was emotional, angry, excited did not turn out to be very smart. But those who tell me that they know me better than I know myself, tell me also that I’m itching to respond, to react, to challenge, to defy, to confront, to even be angry.

When I say I am not itching to do any of the things they mention, that I’ve changed, they say no, no one changes. Some even go as far as “You are your father, I am my father, it doesn’t matter how much you deny it, but you are.” They project the similarities they find between themselves and their parents on you, on me. So not only according to them you don’t change, but also you are trapped in continuing your parents’ legacy whether it is something you want to proudly continue, or you don’t care for. So the question is … why work hard on improving one's self at all if people don’t change?

The irony is, when you catch one of those close friends off guard maybe in an intimate moment, and tell them how much you cherish a certain sweet reaction/quality/behavior they had upon growing up, regardless if it was naive, innocent, spontaneous, or whatever else it might have been, they tell you “I don’t do that anymore. I’ve changed!” So, you can change all you want, but I can’t?

Don't tell me what I'm thinking because you don't know what I'm thinking. Don't tell me what I'm itching to do if you don't see me doing it. And forgive me if I disappoint you but I did change. Your memory of who I was did not change and it sounds like it never will. So go find yourself another friend whom you'll imprison in your memory of their past.

العالم ما بتتغير ... فلسفه قصيرة

في أصدقاء بتقلك ما حدا بيتغير. وفي أصدقاء بتسجنك بماضيك وبترفض تشوف التغير بشخصيتك، بتصرفاتك، وبتفكيرك. لا بل بتقلك شوعم بتفكر وكيف عم تشعر بناء على معرفتهم فيك وقت كنت ..... طفل أو مراهق.

وفي عالم بتامن إنو الأنسان هو نتاج بيئته. وأكيد الأنسان نتاج بيئته بس هادا ما بيعني أنه هو ضحيه بيئته إذا هالبيئه ما كانت بيئه سليمه. وطبعا إنو الانسان ما يكون ضحيه لبيئته بيتطلب مجهود وتفكير وتمييز بين الصح والغلط وفي كتير عالم ما عندها مروه تبذل أي مجهود وبتفضل تلعب دور الضحيه لانه أسهل. 

بس الفكرة إنو الواحد بيتغير وما بيبقى المراهق اللي جوابه ع راس لسانه أو الفخور بانه صاحب الكلمه الأخيرة أو الجريء اللي دائما جاهز للتحدي أو الغبي اللي بياخد قرارات بلحظات عاطفيه أو انفعاليه. الأنسان قادر على التعلم والتطور إذا هو بده.

للاسف،  أقرب الناس الك ممكن حتى تقلك إن نحنا مو بس ما متغير، لا بل منكمل مسيرة أهالينا لاننا نسخة عنهم شئنا أم أبينا وبيعكسوا أوجه التشابه اللي بشوفوها بينهم وبين أهاليهم عليك. بس هادا حكي الكسالى اللي ما عندها طموح انها تشتغل وتطور نفسها.

وبلحظة عفويه ممكن   تذكر صديق قريب من هالاصدقاء بطيبه قلبه بموقف إتخذه بالماضي وهو بكل فخر بجاوبك، هادا كان زمان، أنا اتغيرت.  بقى إنت فيك تتغير متل ما بدك وأنا لا؟

ما تقلي شو عم فكر ولا تقلي شو عم أشعر ولا شو عم اغلي لاعمل ولا تقلي انك بتعرفني أكتر مما أنا بعرف نفسي. وبعتذر إذا خيبتك بس أنا اتغيرت.  الشيء الوحيد اللي ما اتغير هو ذكرياتك عن الشخص اللي كنته من ٣٠ سنه وإذا نظرك ما بمد أبعد من هديك الأيام، عفيني من فلسفتك ومن معرفتك العميقة عني وروح دور ع صديق جديد تسجنه بذكريات الماضي. 

My take on Friendship

          Sure, you’ll go through many friendships in your years. Some will last 10 years or more, some will last 10 months or less, but the length of the relationship is not everything. It is the feeling that you are with your own siblings that is worth protecting, cherishing, and rekindling when possible, for those are the friendships that do not often or easily come along.

I have had my share of relationships that lasted years, then ended. Some of those, we grew apart physically, some others, we grew apart emotionally, and in some cases, we grew apart intellectually.

But the struggle is in the feelings, how we yield to them, how we live them, how we tolerate them, question them, survive them, deny them, and how we do not understand them. Our feelings mostly win. We have to be wise beyond our years in dealing with, reacting to, and acknowledging those feelings. We miss, long for, and yearn to lost relationships. However, the one universal mistake most of us make is when we mix up experiencing loss with feeling lonely.

Loneliness is not a healthy incentive to go chasing lost friendships. Loneliness can be felt even with the company of friends when there isn’t any connection. Yet some of us want to be surrounded by people regardless of that connection. If that works for you, and it happens to work for the friend you are connecting with, then it can’t be that bad. But that is not a real relationship. It is doomed to end and restart over and over since its foundation is based on "better have someone's company than being alone." And believe me, a lot of times it is better being alone than having the company of people you think of as friends who do not treat you well or respect you and your individuality, or take advantage of you and your generosity.

Experiencing loss is hard. You have to be strong to go through it and survive it. You cannot hide from it or deny it, because it will come back and haunt you if you do. Experiencing loss is worth investigating. That friendship had something very special that its absence created void in your life; a void that has nothing to do with feeling lonely. That friendship nurtured you, gave you more depth, different dimension, unique color, self-worth, comfort, and a certain kind of satisfaction that you are unable to put into words. It gave you purpose, a reason to smile, to continue, to be a better person, to nourish, to contribute, to listen, to share, to give, and when you give, you feel love.

Loss is definitely an incentive to make an effort to rekindle certain relationships. However, for that loss to be dealt with in a healthy way, it has to be felt on both ends and it has to have closure. Speak up, connect, tell them how you feel, tell them what your intention is, and find a way to go past whatever caused that friendship to end. Life’s too short to live it alone when you are able to go past certain issues and you know that the other person you miss, is probably missing you too. Work it out.

Many of my previous friends booked a special place in my heart and I cherish their memories. They had a positive role in my life, and that role was fulfilled, so it was time to move on. And although I miss them and I would love to see them and hang out with them again, I just don't feel a loss without them. But there are only a few, a very selected few, that the loss of their presence in my life weighs down on me. Those were my true friends and I am blessed to still have some friends in my life that I learned from my past relationships to work out past any and all issues and focus on what really matters; our friendship.

Gym buddies

There are two kinds of gym buddies where I work out and I can't figure out which one to join

1) The screamers: Instead of exhaling, they scream in pain as if someone just told them we're filming Hulk and they are Hulk. They are usually round in shape, no seriously, ROUND, have angry 😡 faces, monopolize several weights around them to rotate their work out as if they own the gym, while the rest of us wonder where did all the weights go. They also throw the weights obnoxiously on the floor to make an impact (impact on the floor, cause no one is getting impressed with dumping the weights and the soothing noise it makes). Finally, some of them do not wear deodorant because it is more manly. They probably think it's sexy too. They also don't take the towel that is offered complimentary upon their check-in because they believe in leaving a sweat trace on the benches for others to find. You can spot them from a distance. Just look at the breathless red faces around them who hold their breath with the hopes that "this too shall pass" till they are able to breathe again or just fall down and die.

2) The self-admirers: Those ones are not round in shape, they are either skinny or in good shape. They walk with poise, with grace, with their heads held high, so high sometimes you wonder how do they mange to walk without tripping. They don't smell, they don't make any noise. They also don't bother anyone. They REALLY mind their own business. What is that business? It is staring at their reflection(s) in the mirrors with infatuation. If you don't know what's going on, you might get the impression they don't have mirrors in their apartments so they're making the best out of the situation (seizing the opportunity if you will). You might even catch them taking sneak peeks at their abs every 5 seconds, lifting their tank tops up and flexing, then flexing again, then flexing sideways, then shaking their bonbons. Some of them get lost in the moment thinking they are performers. You see them squeezing their eyes with passion to the music they're listening to on their phones, lip-syncing the song better than Milli Vanilli, and dancing better than Britney!

Then there's me. 🤔 yup, the opinionated observer who questions what is wrong with him!

A door closes, another opens

Not even in my wildest dreams had I dared to dream of spending the summer semester studying French in Paris, let alone two summers in row. Don't get me wrong, it didn't fall in my lap, I had to work for it. But I didn't even know that it was a possibility when I felt stuck, completely stuck, working a corporate job that made me miserable the last 3 of the 12 years of my employment there. The minute (not really the minute, had to plan it months ahead) I quit my corporate job, I went back to school to get my Masters; a major in English and a minor in French. The rest was history. As scared as I was; being a middle aged man (yes I said it), having financial commitments, supporting a family member, I took a chance and it paid off.

The point of sharing this is to say that what I knew and believed in; a door closes, another opens, would only happen to other people, not me. Yeah I preached to my friends to take a chance, to go for it, to hang in there, told them that tomorrow is another day and the blessings are there, but that positive healthy approach seemed too good to be true in my case.

After three years of struggling and putting up with the new management at work, I finally quit. When I did and went back to school, I had to fulfill six prerequisites, two of which, were courses in a foreign language. When I chose French, something crazy good happened a few months later. I earned a scholarship to do a French course level 2 at the French Catholic school of Paris in 2014. I knew that it was an experience of a lifetime and that I would cherish every moment of it since I never thought it would repeat. I continued my studies and earned yet another scholarship to do a French course level 5 at the same school, summer of 2015. The blessings that are out there waiting for us will have more room when we make more room. I am a humbled student of life and I am grateful to taking a chance on myself and to standing up for what I believe in, which made my life miserable at work, but gave me an incentive to seek what is out there. I am sharing because I hope that someone out there who might be feeling the same way I had just a year ago, might get inspired and step out of the "compromise" and "this is as good as it gets" mentality and make bold choices. Take a chance on yourself, you are worth it baby ;)

I went to Syria today

Forgive me Aleppo for I’ll be lying if I said I could not visit you, I chose not to. You became a Russian Roulette and I cannot take a chance, I just can’t. There are way too many people I love so much and I am not ready to say good-bye. 

But knowing you were a stone’s throw away broke my heart and made me feel like a betrayer. 

Home is where the heart is, and my heart is where my immediate family lives. Today it is Tartus, tomorrow ...... only God knows. 

I went to Syria today. People called me crazy, reasoned with me, tried to stop me, but I had to. 

I went to the Syria I knew years ago. Under the government protection.

No one disrespected me as I was crossing the borderline

No one belittled me during the seemingly nonstop check-points

No one killed me and spilled my blood just because I was Christian

I went to the Syria I knew my whole life

I went to buy groceries from my Muslim neighbor

He greeted me with a smile and said to me “How’s it going brother?”

I dined at a restaurant with my family by the sea , and no snipper aimed at us, or at me

I went to church on Great Friday to pay my respect. The people praying in the mosque did not capture me and crucify me just because the Christ was crucified

I attended the mass on Easter Sunday, and no bomb fell over our church while we were praying for the resurrection of our beloved Syria

I came back in one piece, I was not beheaded because I was coming back to the US. I was not even questioned, my head is over my shoulders and I am forever grateful

I hugged my niece whom I never had a chance to meet in person before, and if that’s not priceless, I don’t know what is

I went to Syria today, and I would go there over and over, for the happiness and joy I felt were real for a change. 

I already miss being with my family. I pray we reunite and create a new home, honoring the beautiful memories of our home Syria.

The six impossible filters Facebook should have

Back in 2007 Facebook was something I did not initially want to join. It felt as if I was going to jump in a blue pool of cold water. However, I pushed myself to jump into that pool and the water felt strangely enough (or perhaps weirdly enough) ……. warm. 

When you’re in cold water, you have to swim to keep your body temperature at a degree that feels comfortable. When you stop, the water will give you chills. I was active on Facebook. I fit right in and never felt cold till I had to stop swimming, not by choice. The Facebook pool got crowded and people started doing what seemed to be anything but swimming. I felt I had to get out. after I closed my account with the so called social network pool, I couldn’t help but wonder if the existence of a lifeguard would have limited certain narcistic movements in that pool. The only current filter in that pool is “you cannot swim in the nude”. I liked being in the pool initially, why do I despise it so much now? I came up with six filters that should have been applied to that network which would have theoretically kept it decent. I know those filters are impossible to apply to a pool crowded with billions of people, so I thought of the thought-police of Orwell’s 1984. That could have been the best filter that would have addressed the thoughtless posts before they get a chance to become posts and expose unwanted dirty laundry.
Well, before I list those filters, I would like to apologize in advance to those who might feel that I am criticizing their swimming movements in the Facebook pool because I really don't want to be misunderstood; of course I am criticizing and I'm not going to deny it, but I would like to acknowledge that I myself was guilty of some.

Once upon a time in 2010, a relative of mine visited from Venezuela for a few days and took a nice long walk with me down Wilshire Blvd in Santa Monica. She looked around and said that she felt familiar with the neighborhood because of my Facebook pictures. Then She defensively added “Not that I’m ever on Facebook, but when I log on, I look at pictures of people I care for”. She added that Facebook repulses her because what people do, eat, where they go, how they feel, what they quote, write, think, are things no one cares about. She sounded genuinely annoyed.

Two years later, that same friend started facebooking. She started checking into every single airport her company sent her to. She started criticizing the airports when they’re located in countries or cities she did not care for. Then she started adding the food pictures of restaurant she visited. Then her workout routine, then the calories she burned, then pretty much every moment of her life, no matter how un-special they were, and let me tell you, they truly were.

I silently observed for a while, then wrote her an email and asked her straight out about her change of heart. Her answer was “Everybody is doing it, why should I be excluded?” And so, she went with the flow of Facebook instead of looking at it from outside and wondering why do people do what they do since according to her “No one cares!”

I am sure that my Venezuelan relative (if of course after reading this blog would not deny that we're related) rings a bell of someone you yourself know, who could be opinionated, sophisticated, or working hard on compensating something they do not have. But what it all boils down to is the need of attention. Hey, I mentioned at the beginning of this blog that I am just as guilty. Attention is not necessarily bad if it is recruited for the right reasons, when it is not necessarily and directly sought after. Attention is earned when it is due to a certain work of art, a humane thought, behavior, reaction, a talent, a skill, something hilariously funny and witty, inspirational, and other things that might add value to your knowledge, taste, soul, spirit, and healthy existence. However, once that attention becomes a matter of “Look at me, I rock” with nothing to back up that claim, then vanity takes over. Well, we’re not in the business of limiting anyone’s freedom, and since we’re talking about freedom, I’m exercising mine in listing the six filters that I wish were possible at all for Facebook to have in its so-called social media:

1) Limit the number of pictures, as my Venezuelan relative put it, “no one cares!”

Remember the time when we used to take pictures for the sake of preserving memories? Remember how limited the audience to your photo album was? On special occasions you would take out those photo albums and go over the pictures mostly on your own, maybe with your family, and sometimes when relatives visited. The photos were special, and you took them because you wanted to keep special moments that you cherish alive. Those photos, they had special people going through special times you wanted to capture. Today, the photos you see on Facebook could indeed be a reflection of special moments with or without special people, but the motivation to take photos have definitely changed. We take photos for people to see, not for us to keep. We take photos to show off where we are, what we’re eating, how we too do this and that (and no, you're not better than me), and it’s for the world to see, not for us to revisit. The real motivation have changed. The more you have, the less special they feel. And what’s up with that hand on your hip which sticks out every time someone takes your picture for you? Is that a requirement now? As if the "Hips don't lie" was not annoying enough in every teenager's picture (with or without their mothers competing to look like sisters), here comes the selfies. Oh lord have mercy, that is a disease in itself. Selfies are spreading like cancer. One might argue that they are not that different from asking someone else to take our pictures for us. Oh but the are. You wouldn’t do the things you do in your selfies when there is a stranger behind the camera taking your picture for you. You wouldn’t try those sexy face expressions with your lips puckered when you ask your father to take your picture.

You wouldn’t dress the way you do (or not even dress at all) when you ask your friend to take your picture. Selfies have no shame. You wanna push back? By all means, ask yourself how many of them make it on Facebook, and ask yourself why. Selfies indeed are shameless and you don’t need someone to prove it, just look at your phone photos  honey, see! I rest my case.

2) Plagiarism sensor

Oh no you didn't! 

Oh yes I did!!!!!

Suddenly John and Jane Doe are writers. If you tell them "I read those posts somewhere, they sound familiar" They will fight back saying “They’re theirs”? Except that they wouldn't know which one of those two words is nominative and which one is accusative. Alright, you might get jealous from time to time, I mean everyone is writing something cool, funny, inspirational, it’s the trend. So why don’t you give it a shot too? Slowly but surely, everyone on Facebook becomes a philosopher, a deep thinker, and an opinionated writer.  Hey hey, I don’t want to be in the audience, I want to be on stage, performing. And if I don’t have any moves, I’ll steal some and say “look at me, I invented this, ain’t I cool?” Let’s see how many likes I’m gonna get, humm, not too shabby for a start. I’ll copy and paste some more. Heck, I’ll even start my own sentences, I’ll just copy the style of others. Suddenly the stage is too crowded and there is no audience left. Well, it’s not your fault, everyone is doing it, go with the flow, even when you have nothing to offer.
They’re no better than you, wait! they're no better or their no better? Damn you auto correct, you should know better.


Here’s a thought: If you’ve got something to say, then go ahead and say it. But if you don’t, don’t make a fool of yourself, it’s not worth it. Words are recycled, re-invented, re-arranged, and re-written. But unless they have a thought behind them, they have no value. 

3) Unsubscribe the Facebookers who constantly play the victims 

Who doesn't know a Debbie downer who keeps on posting her feelings in a desperate search for more attention? I think I know one or two. Nah, I know plenty. Poor me? It seems that my friend who lost his father a few years back did not get enough condolences on Facebook the first time around when he changed his profile picture to a one solid black color leaving his friends wondering in suspense who did he lose. Yes, even grieving his late father had to be in style and had to have some kind of thrill to it. To honor the memory of his father, he changed his profile picture to his father’s a year later. Then six months after that he posted on his Facebook page “Dad, I miss you” waiting patiently for his father to comment back, but his father didn't (how rude!). Then six months later, it was time to honor the second anniversary of his dad’s departure, then he wanted to visit his father’s cemetery, no wait, that takes actual getting up and out of the house, my bad. He wanted to visit his father’s birthday so he posted on his Facebook page “Dad, how I miss thee, this would have been your 92nd birthday”. He did not stop at any opportunity to bring his father’s memory to honor his father of course, not to collect likes and the support of “Hang in there dude, we love you (and we mean it, as long as we don't have to love you in person)” from his audience, oops, I meant from his friends who are virtually there for him when he’s feeling down. So the rhetorical question here is, what happened to grieving in private? What happened to actually leaving our monitor addiction and stepping out to the real world to be with friends who care, who listen, who are there for us when we’re down? How fulfilling those “like”s and those comments that take over a physical shoulder to lean on if we were really down and feeling blue? What happened to the touch of hand from a real friend who is there for us in person versus the countless meaningless hallmark quotes when we speak our negativity on our “What’s on your mind?” As my wise Venezuelan friend put it ... "Who cares? No really, who gives a damn?".

4) Eliminate the show off business, it’s not a show business!

Not too long ago, a single friend of mine told me “I cannot believe I’m still single when that ugly dude keeps on posting pictures of his hot girlfriend online. I hate it, I hate it hate it hate, call me jealous, I don’t care”. I said to him “Patience my friend, it’s not a competition, it’s a matter of luck and chemistry, your turn will arrive”. Oh and it did. A little late, but it certainly did and he got some catching up to do (yikes). Of course the relationship statue changed from “Miserably single” to “Happily ever after”. The show off started with a bang with every bouquet of flowers he bought her, or she bought him, with every gift, every dress, even pictures of text messages, it was all public business with messages like “I know, I know, I know I’m lucky!”. The only missing posts were how they made love, the kinky positions, the sex toys, the lingerie, the BDSM erotic practices they might have or have not practiced. Here’s a thought “didn’t your so-called ugly friend’s posts bother you?” He was showing off his hot girlfriend, do you remember how it made you feel back then when you were single? What are you doing? No seriously, what is wrong with you repeating what he did when you know how bitter it made you feel? (Hey, everyone is doing it, why shouldn't you? Go with the flow) Oh stop posting how she wants you to be a member of equinox and start Pilates instead of the monkey business you used to do. Your constant “Check-in”s tagging her and the brandname valuable lifestyle she’s added to your down to earth life are doing a more than enough job on their own.

5) Disable communication between Facebookers and Facebookies when they’re physically close to each other 

So we know how much you love your mother, your daughter, your grandma, your dogs and cats too. I mean you’ve been updating your emotional status online for years. The question is, how hard is it to tell them when they’re sitting next to you on the couch posting how much they love you back on their laptops! Do you guys talk? Do you think your love story is The Notebook? And if it were, do you remember that the actors actually talked to each other in the movie versus communicating on Facebook? Oh wait, there was no Facebook when The Notebook came out so that’s not your fault, you wouldn’t know any better. So here’s a tip: If the person is sitting next to you, tell them how much you love them in person and spare us your feelings for a change. I get it when they’re thousand miles away but seriously, they’re in the bathroom. The real question you have to ask yourself is: Are your posts on your friend’s, lover’s, father’s, cousin’s, neighbor’s walls about them or about you? Are you trying to give them the attention or the credit, or are you trying to get the credit of what a good boyfriend, girlfriend, daughter, husband, wife, pet owner (or even pets, hang in there, one day it'll be possible) you are? If it is about them, pick up the phone and call them, pay them a visit, get up and walk all the way to the next bathroom and knock on the door. But no, that would not bring YOU the attention or get YOU the credit. Post it on Facebook and the world will know how lucky that person is to have YOU in their life because it is YOU who is drawing attention to them.

6) Detect Crazy, regardless how subjective or objective, then delete it please. Thank you very much!

Pet lovers, moderation is a key to sanity. Your pet gets sick while there are wars in certain Middle Eastern countries, poverty that has been killing children in certain African and Asian countries, hurricanes and earthquakes, and other natural disasters that are killing and making millions of people homeless, not to mention missing airplanes, new diseases (besides Facebook of course) and and and ... and we get it, it’s not your fault that the world is going through the disasters it is going through. So your pet gets sick and you feel compelled to spread the news on Facebook. Okay, we send our positive energy, our prayers being the good Facebook friends we are to you. We wish your pet a quick recovery. Then you give us day two of your pet’s disease with pictures and a little bit of disturbing details that you prefer NOT to keep to yourself. We sympathize and send more positive energy and prayers your way. Then day three details, then day four, then you check in at an expensive pet hospital, then complain how much it cost you, but anything for your dear pet, then the test results. Then you talk about a possible operation that you were not psychologically ready for (Why! Would you have been prepared for an operation under different circumstances? Do tell, .... I mean .... share).
We ask you to hang in there on your countless posts. The operation is successful and your pet is back home, we think for a second that the pet chapter is finally over. But no it is not. You actually take a video of your pet, with your voice pretending to be it’s your pet’s voice, thanking all of your facebookers for the positive energy and prayers! Are you for real? So when are you going to open a Facebook account for your pet? Because we were able to recognize that it was your voice, oh wait, you’re the perfect mother for that helpless pet and so you felt compelled to be its agent. Why not impersonate the pet? Honey, couldn’t you have thanked your audience instead of that cutsie video with your voice over? Lord have mercy!!! Crazy much?

So here’s the deal, if you’re 18, we get it. You grew up knowing Facebook to be around. However, if you’re in your thirties or forties, or even fifties, imagine your life without Facebook (OMG ... Nooo) I’m sure you have some recollection of what life was like before. You live for Facebook, you go places, you workout, you carry certain handbags, eat at certain restaurants, express certain emotions to show off on Facebook. When was the last time you did something for you, not for Facebook? How many real friends are there for you on Facebook? Why does it bother you when they send you their sincere wishes on your birthday via email, text, even a phone call, and not a flashy post on your wall over Facebook? Think, think how simple life was when you did not feel that you are a celebrity and the world is revolving around your endless pictures and posts. Facebook might be the platform for people to feel like celebrities for a few minutes, but the pursuit of those few minutes is a lifetime addiction.