You Know You've Lived Through an Egyptian Revolution When...

1. You've slept with any piece of furniture pushed up against the door and/or a can of Pyrosol next to you.

2. Baltageya (thug) horror stories begin to sound more like jokes. So a baltagi walks into a bar...

3. Your cleaning lady is ready to quit her day job since she's sure she'll be rich once Mubarak's money is distributed.

4. You're convinced those fireworks in the distance are actually gunshots...But you don't really care.

5. You own any/all of the following revolution paraphernalia: key chain, January 25 license plate bumper sticker, bracelet, hat, t-shirt, mug, Egyptian flag (special edition, of course).

6. You've prayed for things to calm down but secretly hoped it wouldn't end before you got a picture standing on/next to a tank.

7. Your seven-year-old child has a hard time naming kinds of fruits but can easily recall, in both Arabic and English, the terms for revolution, protest, thug, rifle, dagger, and tank.

8. The aforementioned seven-year-old has engaged in protests at school with his friends, chanting "El shaab yureed BREAK!"

9. The day after voting on constitutional changes, you've shunned anyone at work who didn't have a pink finger.

10. You or anyone in your family actually went to Tahrir and now truly know what it means to walk and talk like an Egyptian.

11. What pyramids? You forgot that Egypt used to be famous for anything other than protests and politics.

12. You use the revolution as an excuse for just about anything, which made sense in the first couple of weeks but is starting to wear thin six months later. I would've picked up your dry cleaning. Really, I wanted to. It's just, with the revolution and everything...you know.

13. The saying "Masr om el donya" suddenly makes sense.

The Patriot

I love Egypt and I love being Egyptian.

I'm not sure why it feels like a confession, but for some reason, I feel the need to say it once and for all. For many of us who have grown up abroad, we may like Egypt for North Coast vacations and crazy taxi driver stories, but when it comes to committing we fall short. We say we can't handle the heat, the pollution, or the crowds. We make fun of Egypt, ridicule it and its people.

Then there are those who say they love Egypt, though they say it with a sense of vagueness, as if they're not quite sure why, but all their friends thought they were cool when they realized they came from the land of the pyramids and the Nile, so they figured that must be worth something.

Growing up, I had always noticed that Egyptians were intensely patriotic and deeply attached to their country. On several occasions, I have mistaken a patriotic song for a love song. I have seen Egyptians brought to tears at the mere thought of what Egypt used to be, and what it could be.

Strangely enough, even in my decision to move to Egypt, I never realized that I loved my country. To be honest, I didn't even really see it as my country. More like a country. But mine? It didn't feel that way. Needless to say, all of that changed on January 25th. Since then, I have seen why Egyptians love their country and why they love each other. What we have witnessed in the last three weeks can only be described as true humanity, selflessness, and faith in the face of what seemed to be insurmountable obstacles.

We are indebted to the men and women who have given us our country back, who loved Egypt too much to let it be neglected one more day. Thank you for reminding us why we love Egypt: You.