I Messed Up!

  Zahir made me take down my last two blog posts. I gave out too much personal/family data. He was sad when he read the opening, "...Zahir has treated me like I was made of glass. He won't even let me... "wake" him in the morning."

  He has been helping me in the tub as well. I drew the line with assistance with the toilet and bidet. I was potty trained long before I met him. Yes, he did have to teach me to use the bidet when we got here. Still, I will not have another person clean my ass... unless they are about to play with it.

  We had a tailor in to measure me for a costume. Zahir's family is throwing him a costume party for his 30th next week. Don't know what the costume will be... I am betting I'll be in something childish like a bunny, kitten, or puppy bodysuit. Mama still sees me as a weak wounded baby (and occasional shopping partner.) I think Baba sees more. There are times when he looks at Zahir and I with a weird smile. I wonder if he once had a boy too...


Speaking of cute animals...

  I told you how occasionally I'm treated like a child or a pet. This week was the child category. With our apartment mostly in boxes Zahir thought it was best if I stayed with his folks during the day. I thought of begging with him again, that I could just lay on the couch in his office. Not an argument worth addressing again.

Khalid Abdel-Hadi a hero of mine.

  Don't get me wrong I love his Baba, Mama and family, they've been very good to me. It's just we have so little in common. Keeping in mind that both are math nerds like me. I'm just terrified of saying the wrong thing.

  I did tell Zahir of my concerns. He ran his fingers through my hair and said "Don't worry! They think of you as the child of their old age. I think they love you more than they love me. My father is looking forward to returning the favor of helping you recover this time."

 Whats in a Name...

  Zahir had a big meeting so Baba and Mama took me for a few appointments of my own. I finally got my new birth certificate from Kentucky.  Baba and I went to the Embassy to get my new passport based on that name. I have formally taken my mother's maiden name and kept the name Chase. It's kind of odd the State of Florida was fine with just the court documents. I've had my updated DL for almost 2 weeks now. The federal government bureaucracy took a little longer I guess.

  I had the post surgery follow up. The outer dermabond seal has almost sloughed off.  One week on and the doctor is happy with the result. Zahir hadn't let me see it. It still has a very yellow bruise. I can shower and wade in the pool again!!! No strenuous workouts or lifting but the treadmill and bike are ok.

  The doctor let me run my finger over the new scar. It is so small that I began crying. Gone is the oval mound of rough scarred flesh about an inch to an inch and a half wide. It is now a thin line barely 2 inches long. There is a little bump underneath from the subcutaneous sutures which will dissolve over the next year. The doctor believes it will diminish as the swelling continues to fade.

Baba took a photo as I hugged the stuffing out of the doctor. Z was upset he wasn't there to see it himself.

 Change in living arrangements.

  We had a little delay on moving into the new place. The older brother doesn't have security in place yet. Security is a critical issue for Baba... Don't get me wrong Zahir is crazy protective of me. I have no doubt he would hire security on his own, if I was left at home all day. That was part of the reason I lived with his parents when I was 17. The man has trackers, on all my tech gear. I know this sounds a little paranoid, but I am kind of expecting him to put tracking things inside my clothes. I know there's one in my wallet.

  We let down our guard in Greece. He won't do that again. As for me, I am sticking to water when I am out with anyone else. No more alcohol ever. The honey vodka in Ukraine was great, but the ouzo taught me I have no tolerance for liquor. He was going to spank me in Greece for the ouzo until he realize there was something very wrong. He held me for the longest time as I pushed those toxins out, saying I suffered enough.

  About that, I LOVE GREECE! It was NOT a Greek who did this, it was a tourist (and a pitiful excuse for a man). When the officials caught the scumbag they took care of him. To the people who have been FLAMING me via email. Stuff happens! YES, I should have stayed with Zahir when he hit the dance floor with his friends. YES, I should have said no to the drinks. I dropped MY guard and a bad person got too close again. I take ownership for MY own screw-ups. It was Greek people who saw what was happening before it was too late. From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much.


  There was a family meeting and it was decided Zahir and I are moving into the "small" house. I fail to see how a 5 bedroom, 7 bath, house with two kitchens can be considered small. Maybe that's just me.

  Baba, Mama and the unwed daughter will live in the larger house. The housekeeper is overjoyed over her quarters. In most homes here the maid's quarters are barely big enough for a twin size bed. In the new house she has her own small kitchen, bath and her own bedroom.

  Stats:

• THANK YOU USA. I am now over 100 views in the U.S. 

• It was Zahir who pointed out an issue skewing my numbers. Our VPN tunnel. There are some sites and IP addresses (Like Jordan's own: My.Kali) that are monitored or just blocked in Jordan and other surrounding nations. To get around these restrictions, encrypted IP portals are used by those who can afford and need anonymity. This explained why the numbers from the UK were so high (I knew I was not THAT interesting.)

•   I suppose I should explain "My.Kali." Think of it as the MENA region's OUT. There is a large amount of young people who have had enough. They are looking for a way to be seen and heard, to express themselves. They have even shouted down a Muslim Brotherhood member of Parliament.

  People are fed up with being told there love is wrong, haram. They are tired of being told they cannot participate in society (or faith) just based on WHO (and how) they love.

  Chase