Personal I Like Tall Men Notes

.1. Yesterday evening was a planned ‘writing’ evening. After the 20 hours of hell that I endured, I decided that I would pack up my PowerBook, head over to Bridgehead and spend some alone time reading and writing.

As I was placing my order, I noticed that one of our family friends, Sami, was also there and so we ended up talking literature and culture for two hours.

Later, I also saw a once dear friend, Steve, whom I had not seen since we did our M.A.s together.

It was one of those ‘Out of the Blue’ evenings that usually land you in either jail, a headlock, or in good humor. Luckily for me and my hair, my evening ended in the latter.

.2. I have no concept of time. None. It’s kind of funny; I say things like “…didn’t we do that 18 years ago…” and folks will respond with “…that’s impossible, we only met less than three months ago…”

Hate watches, and never wear one and so this may be the cause of Maha induced time angst I cause for those around me.

.3. Am currently seated at Chapters trying to jot down all of the stories that reside in my head and that have been screaming to be let out. Have resigned myself to knowing that the best thing for me to do would be to let everyone out at once, and then see which of them play well together and which ones have already developed their own stories and are not in need of other friends. Oddly enough, some of them keep trying to run away and hide behind the bookshelves around me, but I’m quick and none have managed to disappear for too long, yet.

.4. Have had an all too exhausting morning once again…but one riddled with the most unique characters – which, I guess, is really who we each are. I will indulge and tell you about only one.

I had to go to Costco to get the tires on my car changed. While in line (for the duration of 1.5 hours), I was harassed the entire time by an all too chatty gentleman who could not have been a day less than 65. I made the mistake of taking my jacket off, and my t-shirt read: Miss B. Haven and because he was so witty and so charming and so on the ball, he decided to start up a conversation with the following gem: “This morning, I was looking for my t-shirt that says ‘Where’s the party?’” har har har (a line made popular by Madonna when she was still normal in the 80s).

I try to be a gentle and patient soul with retards, and so I smiled and said “That’s funny”. Unfortunately, that was all he needed and so he motored through the next hour and a half without coming up for air. See what God does when I call people retards?

Luckily, there was a lot of noise overhead and so although I kept nodding and smiling and throwing in the occasional “really?” and “wow”, and of course “ha ha”, I couldn’t hear what he was saying 87% of the time.

Let me tell you, he was no Tamer Hagras.

Note to Tamer: It’s now a running joke that my non-Arab speaking Canadian girlfriends will be forced to sit through your films .

Note to self: Oh my god, have just had a terribly thought; What if Tamer Hagras is already married? Curse the black day.

Note to self 2: Rent El-Hag Mitwali and take notes on how to be a durra. Am most certain that if he is already married, his first wife will love me and she will invite me down to her apartment everyday for morning ahwa.

.5. I have almost come to a decision about which cars are the best rides. Having driven my friend’s BMW, I thought that was the smoothest, until I drove my father’s Mercedes, which kicks BMW ass on any and all levels. It’s just an engineering masterpiece, really. BUT, I am forced to say that my uncle has a little car called a Porsche, which I am supposed to take out for a spin; my feeling is that driving the Porsche will leave me in the ‘Mercedes is ok’ realm of drivers.

All this with the footnote that I remain a Harley Davidson Fat Boy girl at heart. I would take one of those over any of the above any day; unfortunately, not a very popular item in my community, though my cousin has a Ninja…but it’s just not near the same as a Harley. Never. Ever.

As for cars, I just really dig the Jag. The older XJS still turns me on.

.6. I have made a new friend; one who is studying at Concordia and who is a Canadian All-Star football player. We have a deal: He is to teach me about football (with the promise that I will be a true football connoisseur when he’s done with me) and I am to teach him about Middle Eastern politics, Palestinian in particular.

.7. I have been thinking about the attraction to men who are tall; I think it really quite simple and it goes to the root of the hunter / gatherer theory which so many women don’t like (but I do). The bottom line is that tall men are men whom one can stand behind and use as a form of covering wall in times of imminent danger. They also have longer reach and so can hold shorter people at bay by placing their hands on shorter peoples’ foreheads.

Note to self: This will come in handy if ever am faced with an unruly dwarf.

They are ideal pieces of protection, and they can pick you up with one finger and toss you around if need be, in order to protect you.

Note to self: Practice landing gracefully in preparation for when am tossed, for my own protection, and asap.

.8. I went shopping today. At Holt Renfrew. Because I am a sucker. (But I have my black heels back, so technically, it is ok that I went there. Besides, their Manager for Customer Direction called me from Toronto and so I can not, in good faith, keep them in my bad books.)

.9. It’s snowing outside and it’s warm and beautiful.

.10. Often times, as I type, I laugh out loud (because the voices in my head are just that funny).

Note to self: Thank god have nice hair and wear the perfect shade of rouge, or else folks would have chalked me up to a loon not worthy of coffee shop seating.

Note to you: If you drive a motorcycle, have a tattoo and are above 6”, please call my poppy and 2ukhtubni.