It's bad when something so seemingly random, something which on any other day would be so insignificant- something you hear on TV, something you see while taking a walk, something you read in passing- can cause you to burst into tears. 

It doesn't make sense, you think.

But you know deep down it DOES.

I consider myself lucky in that my problems, although many, have never been as emotionally draining as they are now.

So now is not so good.

Now is not all rainbows and unicorns.

Picture of a tattoo that said "This Too Shall Pass."- that's what did it. Of all things. Pssh.

And I see variations of that tattoo at least 3 times a day, which makes this blubberfest even more of an embarrassment to me.

 Well shit, I lost the next part of my travel journal.

I know it's here somewhere though.

FFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

 Days 2-4: Madinah

The flight from Jeddah to Madinah. Another ‘experience’. I’ve been on many planes big and small, but this may have been the only time where I was afraid it might be my last flight EVAR. The good news is that fear only lasted about a minute before my brain kicked into ‘use humor to diffuse the situation’ mode. So there we are, about to take off.- and I’m feeling kinda good: seats are comfy, the man behind me is having a phone conversation and his voice is nice and deep and melodious and soft (I still maintain that it doesn’t count as eavesdropping/creepy/wrong if I don’t understand the language he’s conversing in). Sleep is slowly creepin’ up on me, but the voice on the speakers is announcing that “the plane is about to take off, so sit yo’ asses down and put yo’ seatbelts on, foo’.” (or at least that’s my educated guess- accents are hard.) And it is tradition that I stare out the window as we take to the air. We’re moving, we’re moving faster, we’re zooming down the runway-

And I start to bounce up and down. Violently. Not by choice, of course, it was obviously the plane’s fault. But it was a first, lemme tell ya. And that’s the point I start wondering if I should be worried, and then I realize that I was sweaty in all the right places that indicate anxiety and fear. So there I am, bouncing up and down, trying to hold down all the jiggly parts, and out of nowhere I think “I FEEL LIKE A FREAKING TELLYTUBBY.” It was so random, I snorted loudly, and THAT sounded funny, so I started giggling, and then my grandma was looking at me with a face that said “Awat, hang dok gelak kat sapa?...” so I decided to put on my cool face and continued giggling on the inside. Next thing I knew we were already in the air. Swaying from side to side, sure- but I didn’t really mind. The thought of Telletubbies saved me. It got better then it got worse, and then it got better. Landing was surprisingly smooth. And then that same voice on the speakers bid us goodbye. One thing I noticed about the accents of the people working at the airports and on airplanes: it’s the tone and the delivery and the overall monotony of that single word- when they say goodbye in English, it’s like what they’re really saying is: “Goodbye. FOREVER.” Haha. By comparison, we’re practically singing our thank you-s and excuse me-s and goodbye-s.

But Alhamdulillah, we arrive in Madinah safely and make our way to the hotel- just in time for lunch. Now I’ll admit it. I wasn’t expecting much in terms of food. I mean, I was looking forward to awesome bread, but that was pretty much all I was excited for, only because I don’t really know much about Middle Eastern food in general. But then we get to the hotel restaurant.

And I get a look at the chicken.

And the salad bar. The cheese. The yoghurt.

And the dessert tray.

And the next few hours were a blur.

After the food- oh goodness, the food-

(I should mention that quite possibly a full minute passed between the line above and the following line, because I lost my train of thought.)

the rest of the day was spent at the Nabawi Mosque. Beautiful in ways I can’t even begin to describe, for lack of talent. I managed to sneak in one picture of the outside for y’all, but even then I was totally pushing my luck since cameras aren’t allowed inside and I couldn’t find the time to just visit the mosque without going inside straight after. They sure can dig through bags super efficiently, lemme tell ya. And the patdowns, woah: must be what that whole American airport security deal must feel like. The day I took the picture was the only day they decided not to go through our bags, so WHEEE.

If we weren’t at the mosque, we were eating, or sleeping at the end of the day. Time flies by really quickly here; we’re always in a rush, but it’s a good type of rush- the trick is not to be kelam-kabut, or else that whole vibe will get people panicking and eventually everyone gets all pissy.

The weather is reminiscent of autumn, since obviously there’s not really a full-fledged ‘winter’ - but that’s the way I love it. Cold, but not too cold, just the right type of breeze, and still an abundance of sunlight. 

If a summary is needed to describe my time here in Madinah, it’d be: The weather was incredible. We prayed. We ate. Issall good. Alhamdulillah.

Day 1: Jeddah

All packed and ready to go! Hopes of red-assed baboons and lipstick-wearing camels are fuel for some weird ass dreams- but if you’ve stumbled across any of my dream posts, you’ll know it’s pretty much expected. Anyhoo. I decided early on not to pack anything from my makeup bag of horrors- I figured being vain would NOT work in my favor, all things considered. I brought my most comfortable jubah: huge, frayed, and a little holey- signs of love. And then my mother just happened to find another one in the dark recess of her cupboard which happened to be in my size. Voila- the basis of my wardrobe. Of course, once I got there, a sea of beautiful people surrounded my island of ugly. But surprisingly, I found that more funny than worrisome. Maybe it’s because my internal clock was messed up and I couldn’t bring myself to care. Maybe it’s because my heart was still squeeing with glee when I discovered Chuck and 30 Rock were included on the in-flight entertainment and refused to stop watching until I felt like I would explode from holding in my pee for so long (TMI, I know. Deal.) or until Kristen Bell’s ‘You Again’ started up. Whatever the case, I was pretty content.

OH. You know how I have this obsession with eyebrows? I am now calling this place The Land of Eyebrows. There are some pretty epic eyebrows here. More often than not, accompanied by some pretty awesome eyeballs. Just sayin’.

I knew from the moment we got on that airport bus that I would be in for…let’s call it an ‘experience’…on the roads. As the bus whizzed around in what seemed like circles, completely ignoring the painted yellow and white lines on the ground which I always assumed were important, I grabbed hold of that metal pole in front of me like it was my boyfriend ( I know you’re what you’re imagining. Freak.). I also may have run out and jumped out of the bus the minute the doors opened. Like a boss.

The car ride to the hotel was a mixture of awe, comfort, and a succession of mini-heart attacks. First of all, it was a GMC. If you’ve never ridden in one- lemme try to recount my jakun side of the story: I totally thought the engine was off when we actually started moving- I thought the driver forgot to put it in park and we were gliding off into traffic, so I grabbed the headrest in front of me and was about to squeak out a protest when I realized “Duh, obviously he already started the car.” Even when we stopped at traffic lights, it felt as if the driver decided to turn the engine off and wait out the light, when, of course, he was just using the brake. The normal engine sounds were non-existant, I tell ya- it was pretty much smooth and silent. Maybe it’s just because my Blueberry roars like a wannabe truck and rattles me to the core during my daily journey as if it consists of me voluntarily driving down miles of dirt road- but I was pretty impressed with this ride. So. That’s the ‘awe’ and ‘comfort’ part of the story. Obviously, my personal medical expertise side of the story is coming up, pertaining to the mini-heart attacks.

Considering I could practically hear my brain yelling at me to close my eyes and fade into oblivion, I was pretty-much still starry-eyed when we first got in the car. So we pull out of the carpark. We drive up to the toll. Driver pays. The metal bar goes up and FREAKING HELL A CAR JUST CUT IN FRONT OF US FROM THE RIGHT AND PROCEEDS TO WEAVE ITS WAY PAST 4 OTHER CARS GETTING PAST THE TOLL TO GET TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE FREAKING ROAD. *miniheartattack* Then we’re on the highway. Woah man. Woah. The cars here are crazy fast. Which makes their honking sound extra crazy loud. I can barely bring myself to look out the window- they whizz past my door crazy close.

*miniheartattack* *miniheartattack* *miniheartattack* *miniheartattack* *miniheartattack*

Overall, if you couldn’t tell…it was pretty crazy. I tried to distract myself by focusing on the countless burger ads they put up at the side of the road. Plus, there was one special treat to help me get through it. One very special man whose face always brings me joy and peace.

That’s right.

Colonel Sanders. *crazy eyes*

I also tried to distract myself from the fear of being run off the road by attempting to read any Arabic text I came across. But after I spent more than an appropriate amount of time struggling over a particular one only to discover it spelled “Mercedes Benz”, I categorized myself as an epic failure and gave up on THAT.

We finally get to the hotel, and I see the entire cabin crew from the flight sitting in the lobby, haha. So we got the same hotel, which was cool- just kinda unexpected. And since we were right up front in our row on the plane, they were pretty chatty with us in the air, so they remembered us when we were all back on earth. I may have been temporarily blinded by their makeup, but they were nice.

So we got to our hotel safely, Alhamdulillah. And thus endeth day one of my journey.

Here's hoping my severe case of jetlag helps me to get things done in the middle of the night, things that don't get done when it makes sense for them to be done.

Yeah. You can totally tell my brain's functioning normally.

Pffft.

Anyway, why a new LJ account you ask (or not, but I'mma tell ya anyway)? I just got back from Makkah and I kept a sort of travel journal, just to keep me from doing things that would be..well...life-wasting...I guess? It's so hard to be good. *sigh* But I figured it didn't really belong on my usual blog. Not that it's going to be drastically different, but I just thought it needed to be put somewhere new. 

A clean slate.
Considering the place it's written about.
Just felt right.

...I hope I don't end up abandoning this. 

Oh well. One step at a time!

PS: There'll probably be a lot of private posts. Just sayin'.