The Arab Spring comes to Israel and a Third Intifada?

so much shit is about to go down. I wish I had more time to write more about this, but I leave you with these articles:

http://www.foreignpolicy.com/articles/2011/05/16/the_arab_spring_comes_to_israel

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/05/17/world/middleeast/17mideast.html?ref=world

name change

Dear anyone who reads me anymore,
I'm changing my blog name to stacysami.blogspot.com!

Back in the game

It's been a while since I've felt that I had anything interesting to write about, but I was just reminiscing about that van ride across the Sinai more than two years ago (and how dangerous it could have been in retrospect..) and thought I'd give an update about things going on in my life right now.

As you can tell from the pictures on the side of my screen, I have already graduated from Wellesley at this point and am in that strange limbo stage in between life stages. While I started this blog as a way to keep my friends and family updated on my travels during my junior year abroad, I think I will continue to write even just for myself.

After I officially received my degree this past January (and will finally receive my diploma at the end of this month), I moved back home to Los Angeles to spend some time with my family and to "figure out the next step". Quite honestly, this time was mostly spent sleeping, watching netflix and chatting on skype with F who was back in Boston for school. I also spent a majority of the time smoking and waiting for the grad school deadlines to pass, so that I would have that excuse to continue procrastinating on that damn personal essay. This time was so tedious. It was terrible, and I felt terrible because what a waste my Wellesley degree felt like when I felt like I had nothing to show for it. The worst part was, so much was going on in the Middle East (Arab Spring, anyone?), and I seemed to have little to no interest as to what was going on. The Jasmine Revolution and Ben Ali's departure blew up the frontpage of newspapers when I was in Utah for my cousin's wedding, and I didn't give it more than a glance. The wedding and the sweet lodgings were too much to handle for my lazy mind. Soon afterwards, the revolution in Egypt erupted.

My brother would occasionally ask me what was going on in Egypt, and I would just shrug and continue surfing through funny pictures on reddit. It was a pretty shitty feeling to have graduated from college as Middle Eastern Studies major and upon the most exciting time in the Middle East, I did everything but care. Finally, one day, I was flipping through the channels when I stopped on CNN and saw the image of Tahrir Square. And immediately, I thought, holy shit, I spent every night while I was in Cairo sitting on the curbs looking into that square. I guess then I realized that I should care because I cared enough to do just about anything to find myself there. When Mubarak finally stepped down 18 days later in early February, I kept up with the news and read the various pundits' analysis/opinions, but by a mid-February trip to Las Vegas, my mind was already back in its hammock while the part of my brain that was momentarily galvanized by the image of Tahrir Square was already gathering cobwebs.

For my mom's birthday in early March, my mom and I along with my aunt decided to pay a visit to their cousin down in New Zealand. It was to be a time to rest for my mom after a hectic and draining Valentine's day and to celebrate her birthday with one of her best friends (being her cousin). We spent a little over two weeks in New Zealand. Our base was the cousin's home in Auckland, and we spent much of the first week "exploring" the north island, meaning we got on a korean tour bus and visited tourist sites. It was, pretty boring and the furthest thing to the way I like to travel. Auckland is a beautiful city, but it is way too small and slow for me. The highlight of north island was when I went bungee jumping above Lake Taupo. Jumping into that aqua blue abyss was exhilarating but didn't offer me the clarity or revelation I'd hoped a suicide-like act would give me. Honestly, it scares me how fast I jumped off that platform, but I'll admit, it was fucking scary free-falling-there was no possible time for my brain to process a revelation let alone remind myself to breathe.

The next week we spent, once again touring, although it was more like a private tour, which was pretty awesome, in south island. Now, south island is, I realize, why most people even go to New Zealand. It's absolutely breathtaking. I think every scene could have been the backdrop to the Lord of the Rings movies. As a big fan myself, although not the biggest, I enjoyed myself immensely on this portion of the trip. Queenstown was unreal.

Aside from the travels, though, I was still pretty down in the dumps about the status of my life. Actually, I was not in a great mental state throughout the trip either. My parents kept telling me to use this time wisely by really figuring out what I wanted to do for the rest of my life-no easy feat. And my brother kept telling me that in no other time in my life would I have so much time to do nothing and not have to worry about money. My friends who were working all assured me that they wished they'd spent some time off after graduating (like me) instead of jumping into the job-world. But, I must not be very creative because every single day of that break felt wasted. I wrote to my SKEM crew from Wellesley:

"I wish that I woke up every morning with a fight to win and tasks to accomplish towards a greater goal-whatever it may be. I really need that again in my life."

All I needed was one good friend to tell me to stop feeling sorry for myself, to stop wallowing in my own self-pity and self-hate. I was using my own passivity, laziness, and inability to follow through on inspiring yet fleeting moments as excuses to why the world hated me. And I thank her for being so brutally honest. Because after that night of a good scolding-turned pep-talk, I woke up the next morning and submitted a cover letter and resume to work as a research assistant for a professor working on Islam and international politics.

Not even a week later, I was back in Boston and back in the game.

Next post: why this job is nourishing my soul while killing me slowly.