Breaking and Entering is OK with Islam

I must warn you that today's blog is PO Rated, slanted, biased, and all around ready to blow. I was going to wait to write this until I could find a calm perspective, but damnit there just isn't one. (The alternatives just make me more PO'd.) As a courtesy to my husband, the best man I ever met,I have refrained from mentioning family members by name, not today...MINIRE!!!!

My sister-in-law is one of the evilest, vilest, creatures ever born, and that includes folklore. But until today I kept that my opinion to myself, as a sometimes nice Southern girl, instead preferring to say, 'we don't speak'. Well no more!

My beer guzzling, pork chowing hubby is somehow always viewed as the black sheep by his more and more devout family. Especially, by his holier-than-thou sister, Minire. She doesn't drink, she doesn't smoke (hates all females that do, and yeah that includes other female muslims/family members), and she never has a good word to say about anybody. What she does do is: BREAKING AND ENTERING! Yeah, you read that right. Apparently, somehow in a hidden passage of the Quran, it is ok to just take a peek in someone else's house. Her words exactly were, "I just wanted to see what color they painted the walls..." I shit you not!

Now, I should say that she was a previous owner to that property. A property that she sold to us on September 1st, to save her from yet another ok with Islam, foreclosure, caused by the refusal to pay your mortgage if it's inconvenient. Now, we had a closing, we had the discussion pointing out the fact that if you were paid for a property, and your butt is saved from said foreclosure, the property is no longer yours.

I should also point out, she never the mortgage on said property once, as she happily expected her son to pay her bills for all eternity. Unfortunately that no-so-attractive son of hers had other plans. Including the marriage to a too-pretty-for-him woman that promptly spouted out three children faster than a jackrabbit. Apparently, too-pretty-for-him baby machine was ok with the arrangement of forever housing mama, until mommy dearest refused to babysit for free, and then, well...you can see how well that went.

Which brings us to the current dilemna. Bitchy mama was losing her house, we were begged to step in and save her from public embarrassment, and thus we all went to the aforementioned closing. At that closing, we gave money, papers were signed, and keys and garage opener were remanded.

But was it the day of reckoning for Brumhilde? No, in a sly little pocket of her witch's gown, there lie a key.... Today, that key was used. I hope with all my heart that that was the first time it was used, but I simply don't believe it. The worst thing is, not how she could have me cost me my real estate license, or even the fact that we could have been named as parties to her little broomflying ride on the wild side. The worst thing is the poor, incredibly terrified tenants.

Imagine, you hear a key scrape in the lock, but you think nothing of it, after all you are expecting your wife home at any minute. right? So, you continue undressing and slip on your oh, so not hip, but very comfy pjs to walk into your living room and find an intruder. You don't have a gun on your unsexy pjs (dang it), and you're not even sure what you seeing.

Strange lady, speaking no English, is casing your apartment, she's delving in your boxes, she's eying your flatscreen. What do you do? You shriek, she runs and you call, yours truly.

I say, "Call the police (never suspecting my FU'd sister-in-law, I mean I got those keys, right?) and I'll call a locksmith." Well, as it so happens the cops show up and the mysterious snooper woman show up simultaneously. Yeah, she returns to the scene of the crime, only next door, with teenage niece in hand, and acting completely oblivious to the pointing fingers from the rent house across the driveway.

Suddenly, no one speaks English, my tenant is frantic on the phone, accusing me of being in cahoots with the snooping demon, and I'm in Florida wanting to commit my own form of jihad. Thank god for the distance, or I'd never get off that Homeland Security spooky kook list.

Long story short...Tons of frantic pleading (mostly for my own behind), mention that my sister-in-law (never mention she may or may not be working for Mohammed) is the daughter of satan and certifiably insane. Tenants are leary (who wouldn't be?), hubby's family mysteriously relearns the English language, and the God-bless-Americans Tenants, don't press charges, YET!

I hope we all learned something from this...doubtful.

Was NPR Unfair to Juan Williams?

NPR Radio has terminated Juan Williams, highly respected civil rights activist and NPR host, after comments he made on the O'Reilly Factor with Bill O'Reilly.

Juan Williams, "Look, Bill, I'm not a bigot. You know the kind of books I've written about the civil rights movement in this country. But when I get on the plane, I got to tell you, if I see people who are in Muslim garb and I think, you know, they are identifying themselves first and foremost as Muslims, I get worried. I get nervous."

To be fair, Williams argued against blaming all Muslims as "extremists," saying Christians shouldn't be blamed for Oklahoma City bomber Timothy McVeigh.

I wholeheartedly agree with both comments, and it's rare that I agree with anything Mr. Williams has to say. I face this dilemna everyday of my life. When I sit down on a flight, after being puffed by the puffing machine, patted down by a burly invasive female security officer, and stared down by the mind readers, I immediately look around to see who looks like the real terrorist aboard. (For some reason Homeland Security has me on the "watch out for that extremist kook" list.) I'm proud to be poked and prodded like a prime heifer ready for slaughter. Why? Because it means someone is looking out the welfare of every passenger on that flight, and that includes my fine flanks.

So is it fair for NPR to terminate such a respected advocate for social justice just because he had the gumpta to speak what everyone else on that plane is thinking? I think not and NPR is playing scared. They have become so politically correct should they even be called NPR anymore? Do they represent the nation or not?

Juan Williams' comment referring to the Muslim's choice to identify himself and set himself apart is starkly accurate. My husband has family members that specifically try to make statements and defy someone to remark on their religious choice. They twist prayer beads on their rearview mirrors, attach them to their key rings, and keep a copy of "A Brief Illustrated Guide to Understanding Islam", in their rear car window just in case someone missed the fourteen pounds of beads. They want an opportunity to fight for their religion.

I believe in the rights of all religions, if you want to pray to the praying mantis, I'll not take issue with it. So for the Muslims, I say pray away. But if you come on a flight dressed to 'blow up', with the look of jihad on your face, don't be offended by the comments you might elicit as you scare the bejesus out of some little old lady.

Whatever

I'm a worthless blogger. I just don't seem to possess the necessary stamina or interest to keep this bloody thing updated. I realize the horror of that as every writing class I take further drills my uselessness into me. But the truth is, as this is only about my life with my Muslim husband, sometimes our life is just boring.

I spent the last week scheduling our trip to Kosovo for Christmas. Odd, you might say and you'd be right, to go to a Muslim country for a Christian holiday. Our biggest pissing match occured over exactly where we will spend said Christian festivities.

We don't arrive until Christmas Eve, flying out on the 23rd, oh for gosh sakes you get it, it's an overnight flight, yada, yada, yada. And as such he understandly, (I won't admit to ever having said that) wants to spend Christmas with his family. Now, I wouldn't, and shouldn't, have an issue with that, except hello, they are moslem. So there won't be any teary rememberances of the wrigling baby Jesus or even Christmas carols. And I could live with that, but what about brandy spiked eggnog? Am I to suffer hot tea and stale biscuits on the Lord's Birthday? Blasphemy, no less!

It's not like his mother will notice if we come in and sneak out the next morning. I honestly love her to death, but she doesn't remember me anymore and rarely does she remember him. (Ah, the sad plight of Alzheimers, but her treatment is another blog altogether.)

The greatest problem is the local churches, not mosques, that are still standing, won't let me in. I could sneak out for an hour or two on the pretense of needing something...coffee, internet (nope, can't claim that anymore, just spent $3500 to install it in the house) or prayer beads? The local churches no longer hold services, the closest being 20 kilometers away. They only accept the local Christians (Yes, some have actually stayed...now, that's ballsy) in fear of Muslim terrorism. So, I have to go to the Decani Monastery, two hours away in order to worship. Incredible gorgeous place! (If I win the argument I'll post pics.)

I'm not a very religious person, (cults tend to leave a doubt in your mind) but Christmas is like Easter, "I gots to get my Jesus on Days". Celebrate those two just in case there really is something to the Christian thing and those are the best services. I love the incense, the speciality singers, and kick butt coffee and cake after.

Perhaps, seeing that I'm probably worshiping for all the wrong reasons, I should just give in. Let my hubby have the holiday in whole without whiney winsome comments from me. Oh hell no!