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Miss USA Is Arab-American

The new Miss USA is of Lebanese descent.

I stumbled upon the Miss USA Pageant Sunday night while flipping through channels and while most of it is absolutely ridiculous and seems almost dated and inconsequential to what’s going on in the world, I found Rima Fakih of Miss Michigan totally charming. I was rooting for her as soon as I heard her speak and saw her smile. I assumed while I was watching, that she was Iranian, so you could imagine my delight and surprise when I learned this morning that she is, in fact, Lebanese — with parents who are Catholic AND Muslim. Hehem.

I know she will spend the next year traveling and drawing attention to frivolous things like hair care products and fancy jewelry, but I also hope she will cast a much-needed, positive light on being Arab-American.

Congrats to the young lady!

Took A Spill

I took a spill yesterday while running in the new Brooklyn Bridge Park by the waterfront in DUMBO. Thankfully, my belly was spared but my knees were not! I guess it’s true what they say about your balance being off while preggers.

OUCH!

No lectures please, I feel like ass enough on my own. I was scared for a second about the bambino but as soon as I knew that part of my body was fine I got myself together and continued running. The more awkward part was making my way home with a burgeoning belly and blood dripping down my leg. The stares were interesting. One woman stopped me and offered me a crumpled up – if not used – tissue from her purse. It was a nice gesture, but seriously? I’m not eight! I’m a grown, pregnant woman who took a little spill! I’ll live, as will my baby.

Lesson learned: Watch my footing more carefully from now on. Especially while I run.

My husband’s been immortalized by Google!

This guy who lives one street over from where we live in Brooklyn Heights and who we always bump into while we’re walking our dogs, told my husband Jason that if he goes to their address on Google maps, he is standing outside the building with Ella, talking to one of their doormen.

We plug in their address and sure enough, there he is!

Proud of his digital legacy, Jason said, “I’ve been immortalized by Google!”


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Breaking My Contract at Toren

It’s official. I’ve hired a lawyer to help me get out of my contract at Toren. Just one year ago I was bursting at the seams at the idea of owning a piece of real estate in New York City, and now I am sitting here, tail in between my legs, desperately hoping to get my deposit back.

It’s not that I’ve had a change of heart. I haven’t. But things in my life have changed and taken a dramatic turn for the worse.

What Toren looks like one year after putting my deposit down.

For starters, two months after I put my life savings down and signed a contract at Toren, the credit crisis this country is currently steeped in just began to rear it’s ugly head. What’s more, in May I was reduced to half time at my job – a sign that the start-up Internet company I work for, is not doing well.

Myself and a group of buyers from the Toren joined forces to lobby the sponsors to reduce the prices of our condos to refelct current market rates. They relented and now I have but no choice to hire a layer who will look for loop holes in the offering plan and solicit the New York State Attorney General for the return of my down payment.

Life was different one year ago. I was newly married, gainfully employed and the future looked bright. I knew it was risky business buying a new construction condo that could take one year or more to build, but I could have never predicted this economic downturn. Not even the best of Wall Street’s analysts could.

 

The Longest Letter on The Wall in Palestine

The Palestinian/Israeli struggle is one that is near and dear to my heart, as my father is Palestinian, which makes me, half Palestinian as well. But because I was born in Africa and raised in New York without a religion and no Arabic speaking skills to show for it, I’ve always felt somewhat removed from this important lineage.

In 2002, Israel started building the barrier–part concrete, part chain-link fence–to prevent suicide bombers crossing over from the West Bank. When it is finished, it will be more than 400 miles long, zigzagging deep into Palestinian territory. The Palestinians like to say, true or not, that the wall can be seen from outer space.

Thanks to a group of Dutch and Palestinian activists, people can now immortalize their words on the wall without a passport. For $40, you can compose a message at www.sendamessage.nl, and a trio of Palestinian graffiti artists will spray your words on the wall and e-mail you a photo as proof. The only restriction: no messages of hate or anti-Semitism. 

When I read this, it was a no-brainer. I was going to get a spot on the longest open letter on the wall in Palestine for my father. I received photos of my leter yesterday which were emailed directly to me and directly to my dad, as a surprise.
This is the email I got from him:
Dools, this is something, I want to talk to you but I am still crying and I do not want to cry in my office, it is so moving, it touched my heart deep and proper, thank you sweet heart, one day you will see it and you will understand how beautiful that part of the world is. Love dad…

Coming Full Circle

Technically my first ever blog post: Previously published on New York Women In Communcations’ Blog.

In 2002, I graduated from Baruch College with a bachelor’s degree in corporate communications. It was the summer after 9/11, the economy was stagnant, and so were my employment prospects. After a fruitless job search, I did what any young, passionate, unemployed student would do… I packed my bags and trekked through Europe and Morocco.

When I returned from my travels, I found work as a bartender and applied to the graduate business journalism program at Baruch, into which I was accepted. I had no practical business experience, but, ironically enough, it was through my bartending job in Brooklyn that I got my first break in the business world. I was a month into graduate school then, and the idea of having a desk job, in an office with professional people, was a very attractive one.

I was offered a well-paid internship at the New York Stock Exchange. During my three years there, I published an investigative article, was promoted to “financial consultant,” and graduated from Baruch with my master’s. With three years of financial services under my belt, I had no idea that I had begun to dig my way into a “career corner.” However, as I began to apply for other jobs, I realized that the only interviews I could get with a comparable salary were with other financial service companies like Refco, UBS, and finally, in 2005, Goldman Sachs.

I knew from Day 1 that the buttoned-down, corporate-culture at Goldman Sachs did not suit me. I found the environment to be stifling and impersonal, and worst of all, the very business writing skills that I had invested great time, energy, and money in learning were not being applied. In fact, I found myself writing little more than emails.

My career exploration needed to take another turn. I had inadvertently attained a successful career in financial services and wanted to find a way out. I went to networking events, and set up coffee, dinner and drink dates with contacts in the communications industry for nearly a year. Among the many conversations I had, I clearly recall one with a woman who was the managing director of a PR firm in NY. She put it into perspective for me: I had pigeonholed myself in an industry by blindly going after my paycheck and not my passion.

Change finally came this past January. I was hired for a financial news writing position that I had interviewed for exactly one year earlier. After my initial interview with the company, I had followed up by sending emails and attending other media events that they held. At the time, it seemed as though all my networking was for naught. However, the position was part of a web show that was being developed, and as it turned out, it took my current boss a full year to move forward in hiring. A steady combination of patience, perseverance, and networking had paid off.

Today, I am an in-house writer for a stock loan company. I write financial news scripts for an online web show that combines stock news with humor and entertainment. At long last, I have finally found the job that is a perfect fit. It may sound silly, but I would not have found my way if I had not at first been lost.

As for the corporate world that I left behind, let’s just say I like referring to it in the past tense. And as for my career, I’m often surprised to hear myself use the words “love” and “job” in the same sentence… but I’m beginning to get used to it.

A Piece of the NYC Real Estate Pie

Toren in Downtown Brooklyn.

Yesterday I took my piece of the New York City real estate pie. I put a chunky down payment on a new construction, one bedroom condo at the Toren in Downtown Brooklyn.

I’ve lived in this borough eight years. My fiancee Jason has lived here three years. He’s one of those Manhattan transplants who begrudgingly moves here and then doesn’t look back.

I know a one bedroom isn’t big but it’s a step up from the studio apartment we are living in now. And well, by New York City standards, it sort of is big. To own a piece of property in this big city is, let’s face it, big!

I hope we made the right move. I think we did. We love this borough. We love new construction and well, we love each other. The sum of all these things should add up to a happy home to come! Feeling very excited right now!