July 30, 2007
The Store
Don’t let the daunting exterior of Joe Mamma’s dissuade you from entry. Although it appears skateboarder meets snowboarder meets bmxer (the three of whom are dudes) they are very patient with Those Who Know Nothing Of The Cycling Riding Gliding Bumping-Off-Balconies World. Their experience and ‘riding is living’ attitude rendered them very gracious and kind when I walked in and said: “I don’t know anything about bicycles, but I want something pretty”.
Apart from Joe, there is Denver, Cameron (a sponsored snowboarder), and another sponsored bmx-er who is currently en route to someplace in the US to pick up his portable thing on which he rides his bmx and spins into the air and does not crash into the ground. Finally there was another young man (I recently turned 87) who had just been to Lansdowne with the King Cheeses of the bmx world from all over North America, one of whom did something very impressive that had to do with a jump and a balcony. I managed a strong ‘Woooow’ before I started playing with Maillot Jaune and hoping none of the men would notice my complete cluelessness. This last man from the staff helped me choose a helmet – and although technically, he is young enough to be my child, I couldn’t help but notice he has a beautiful face. He’s still relatively shy and he may be Denver’s brother, because they look so much alike and I was thinking he would make an excellent boyfriend to Marah of Videoflicks, mentioned here.
I wish to make one final note for those of you considering heading over to Joe Mamma’s. Don’t let the name fool you for it is not Joe who runs the joint, but rather Maillot Jaune who takes care of the books, liaises with the partners and pleases the customers. Joe is nothing more than her front-man and she is very good to him.
The Purchase
At precisely 5.31pm on the 26th of July, 2007, your blogMistress became the very proud new owner of one Electra Hawaii Cruiser. This is the latest colour: Really bright and pearly orange. It’s so new that Joe had to take her out of the box and assemble her for me so that I would then be able to cycle her out of the store.
I had originally wanted to name her Lucy, but Lulu kept popping into my head and mama confirmed that as a very small fat child, I used to call all of my dolls by the name of: Lulu. And so ‘Lulu’ she is.
Lulu’s seat is black, painted with white flowers. Her tires are etched with flowers and all over her orange body are more white flowers. I purchased for her a wicker basket and a little ringing bell (but only because they did not sell honky horns). I now need to purchase a gel seat cover – because OW! – and a rear view mirror.
While Joe was assembling Lulu, the rest of the men filled me in on the logistics of sponsorship in the world of snowboarding, skateboarding and bmxing. It was actually quite fascinating to understand how the intricate details of these three worlds collided and also…blablabla because I have no idea what I’m talking about and so I am going to stop. Right here.
Right. So, Joe finished assembling Lulu and carried her outside for me where Maillot Jaune joined us. I was so excited that I forgot to remove the massive tag from my helmet – made for those prone to multi-impact – as I walked out the front doors of Joe Mamma’s. Lucky that I noticed something scraping the side of my neck, or else I would have looked completely stupid riding around Ottawa with the tag that measures approximately 4″ x 6″.
The Ride
Lulu still has an aversion to cars. She is scared of them and in order to assuage her fears, I walked her away from Joe’s for the first few blocks. When I could sense she was a little more comfortable, I let her ride around on the side streets leading to the walk/run/bike only pathway along the canal.
For two hours, I rode her all over the parkway and the experimental farm on that first evening. (I had to pay very close attention to the speed limit as I am certain I was madly cycling well above the 10 km/ hour allowance with my thighs of steel.)
There were cows (the blobs on the left):
I went so far as to take streaming video of my very first ride so that I may share it with you (likely not the best of ideas as it meant I had to steer with one hand and I nearly crashed into a tree…but I didn’t). Look at how terrified happy I am:
The following morning, I awoke with a very sore bum and abs that were screaming. BUT THAT DIDN’T STOP ME. I put on a skirt, a shirt, flip flops, and my helmet. I placed my lunch in Lulu’s basket and CYCLED TO WORK along the parkway. People waved and honked. I received several thumbs ups and two people cycled by and yelled a variation of ‘AWESOME BIKE!’ Because I was too busy concentrating on the ride itself, all I could do to respond was ring Lulu’s bell as a sign of thanks. I continue to do this often. I sometimes even ring Lulu’s bell randomly when I am alone because it makes me smile.
I am considering placing a miniature boombox in her basket for the times I feel like dancing.
I am very proud of Lulu and wish you could all meet her. If you are in the city, look for the girl on the orange bicycle ringing her bell randomly, smiling and looping a little all over the place in search of the straight path.
The Inaugural Fall
Since Thursday, I have been taking Lulu out for a minimum of two hours a day. Yesterday my friend and I went out for a relatively long ride and a picnic. Nearing the end of that ride, I was tired and sort of didn’t turn Lulu’s wheel properly causing me to tumble off of Lulu. We were immediately picked up and hugged; neither one of us has scrapes or fractures and so we are okay. A little shaken up at the time, but immediately Rode Again (Hurrah!) so as to avoid fear and confusion.
Complete photo set may be found here. To come: Streaming video!
July 26, 2007
“There may be times when we are powerless to prevent injustice, but there must never be a time when we fail to protest.”
- Elie Wiesel
July 23, 2007
I received an unsolicited call from a someone who I’ve not spoken with in a little under two years. The call left me thinking about how quickly time passes and how fast our lives turn corners and choose to walk down different avenues and that sometimes no matter which avenues are chosen, we somehow manage to return to the same street corners.
When this individual and I met, they were struggling with many issues, most notably their faith and the moments of darkness they’d lived which had led them to question their space in this world and what it (life) all meant. By most standards, this person’s life was and remains exceptionally blessed, but pain is relative and so what appears as ‘perfect’ on the outside has just as many fragments and cracks as the lives of others. Raised Catholic and having grown into uncertainty, we often had confused conversations along the lines of: “God damn the church. Not really. I don’t know. That’s sacrilegious”, even though through it all, this individual believed in Him. What it boiled down to was a disbelief in the representation of Him as had been provided to this individual, and so they were unknowingly searching for a representation they could hold on to and in which they could believe – or at least, as with the rest of us, embrace and struggle with always, as the human condition demands of faith.
For this individual, these issues seem to be slowly disappearing – they’re not completely resolved, nor will they ever be, I don’t think – but they’re being faced and challenged with honesty. It was also nice to hear that a catalyst for these changes was me, especially when I had no idea I’d done anything other than express my own beliefs when asked about them. What seemed to have resonated was that I accepted even when I just didn’t get it and even when I didn’t want to. Oddly enough, that struck a chord and this individual was left wanting to know more about the how of such acceptance to see if it could aide them. Even two years later! And let me tell you, there is no shortage of ‘gurus’ in this person’s life (all requiring copious amounts of money to share their self-proclaimed brilliance). Our conversation – apart from catching up – was centered around our individual understanding of ‘when bad things happen to good people’. I hope I helped, if only a little.
While chatting, I had my radio on and was listening to a man on CBC argue vehemently against religion and express – among many other intelligent thoughts – that Muslim women are brainwashed and it was the duty of men such as him to enlighten and educate Muslim women on matters such as hijab. I put my phone up to the radio so that my friend could hear what was being said and he found it as amusing and as inconsequential as I did. They asked me to turn it off and said: “I used to think I didn’t believe in God and I used to sort of think along the same lines as that guy, until I realised that I don’t need to believe in God for Him to exist…but He needs to believe in me. And of all the people around me, I’m trusting the brain of a Muslim woman so I don’t fu*king think of you as someone who needs to be enlightened! *Sigh* *Giggle* Now just turn that sh* off and tell me about your weekend. Also, when’s Ramadan? I think I may try a day or two.”
Life is weird and the people we meet even more so. That reality may very well be the pleasure of it all…
July 23, 2007
is my favourite poet, and this is my favourite of his poems. It was read to me when I was 22 and I was as moved to sadness then as I have been every time I’ve read it since.
Fable of the Mermaid and the Drunks
All those men were there inside,
when she came in totally naked.
They had been drinking: they began to spit.
Newly come from the river, she knew nothing.
She was a mermaid who had lost her way.
The insults flowed down her gleaming flesh.
Obscenities drowned her golden breasts.
Not knowing tears, she did not weep tears.
Not knowing clothes, she did not have clothes.
They blackened her with burnt corks and cigarette stubs,
and rolled around laughing on the tavern floor.
She did not speak because she had no speech.
Her eyes were the colour of distant love,
her twin arms were made of white topaz.
Her lips moved, silent, in a coral light,
and suddenly she went out by that door.
Entering the river she was cleaned,
shining like a white stone in the rain,
and without looking back she swam again
swam towards emptiness, swam towards death.
July 23, 2007
I now understand why it is that I’ve loved The Gilmore Girls so much…
Snippet from a recent conversation in my life:
A: “That’s how peanuts grow.”
M: “Peanuts grow beneath?”
A: “Yeah, like potatoes.”
M: “Oh.”
A: “Where did you think peanuts came from?”
M: “…”
A: “They grow. It’s a plant.”
M: “…”
A: “Where’d you think…”
M: “I didn’t.”
A: “…”
M: “I thought they came in a can.”
A: “But they would have to be grown before they were put into the can.”
M: “They come from Mr. Planter.”
Snippet from Season 7, The Gilmore Girls:
Lorelai: “It’s like a peanut tree.”
Rori: “Peanuts don’t grow on trees, mom.”
Lorelai: “What do you mean? It doesn’t matter, anyway.”
Rori: “Peanuts grow beneath the earth.”
Lorelai: “Plants, trees, who cares, it’s all the same to me. They’re peanuts and we eat them and that’s all that matters.”
July 20, 2007
A snippet of last night’s conversation…consider yourself warned.
Aalya: “I heard this kid call out ‘PARMINDER! PARMINDER! OVER HERE!’ and so I expected to turn around and see a little Pakistani child. But instead I saw these two huge blondes, a man and a woman, carrying a little blonde blue-eyed girl who was waving back at the other kid calling her Parminder and I thought WTH? Are you making fun of my People? Maybe you’re…Are you albinos?”
Maha: “Are you albinos? That’s funny. You should have followed that up with I’m sorry I didn’t mean that I say things like that sometimes things I should only say in my head like ‘gay monkey in pink’ really ‘happy sparkly dancing monkey on my back’ and I don’t mean ‘gay’ like ‘queer’, I mean ‘gay’ like ‘happy’ because I spent my childhood summers in England and so ‘gay’ has a whole new meaning in my head. Pink. Monkey. Dancing. Do you have anything on your back? I like backless dresses. This food is yummy.”
Aalya snorted a little of her pho up her nose and choked. And I thought OH MY GOD I’ve almost killed a pregnant woman who just bought gorgeous crack and wouldn’t have had the chance to wear it even once i like crack it’s pretty and always sparkly when I buy it shopping is fun like eating I like sushi but not the raw kind only the kind that’s made with fake crab which I think someone told me is petroleum based paste milk blue pink garden flower pear monkey dancing update nose scarf a b c d e f 1 2 3…
July 20, 2007
When mama gets anxious or upset or nervous and tries to communicate in English, she sounds a little like Dr. Seuss. I tend to avoid her calls when she’s in such a state because her emails make me laugh really hard and I have a record of the insanity.
Exhibit A:
‘If I could tell her I would tell her but I can’t tell her because I don’t know what to tell her! Would you tell her? What would you tell her?’
On her good days, she still manages to make no sense in her emails because she has full conversations in her head and then I am only made privy to the last five seconds of the conversations.
Exhibit B:
Maha: ‘I am going to C’s house tonight.’
Mama: ‘What’s there at C’s house tonight! Party’
Maha: ‘Yeah we’re gonna get drunk with the kids ;o) Nothing, really, I’m just going over…I’m going to pick up some coffee on the way there and we’ll likely get a movie for when the kids go to sleep. I like hanging out with C, she’s so similar to me in so many ways…one of the closest, actually.’
Mama: Good for you I wish it was me going to some one who has half a dozen. Any way I will go home now and make maftool, I just craved it right now so put it in mind to eat it tonight. Why do you have to go to your dad’s place? As I said, I am leaving right now, bye
Did you catch that, kids? She’s leaving RIGHT NOW. RIGHT NOW. She was going to click the Send button and then leave RIGHT THEN.
And let’s not forget that she craved maftool (or ‘cous-cous’ to the North American) RIGHT NOW and so she’s placed it in her head and then later she’s gonna eat it. Not RIGHT NOW, but tonight.
Finally, we have the timeless wish of wanting to go “to some one who has half a dozen”. Really, your guess is as good as mine, because last I checked C had only two kids and so I haven’t the faintest idea to what or whom mama is referring.
July 20, 2007
Forget what you think you know. And listen to the voices of the silenced majority.
Open your minds and remember Malcolm X’s famed words: “…what I have seen, and experienced, has forced me to rearrange much of my thought-patterns previously held, and to toss aside some of my previous conclusions. This was not too difficult for me. Despite my firm convictions, I have always been a man who tries to face facts, and to accept the reality of life as new experience and new knowledge unfolds it. I have always kept an open mind, which is necessary to the flexibility that must go hand in hand with every form of intelligent search for truth.”
Online Videos by Veoh.com
July 20, 2007
Aalya and I went for dinner and some shopping yesterday evening, both of us wrapped in pashminas because July is the new November. She is running loose and pregnant.
Yes, our very own beautiful Aayla is To Be Waddling With Large Belly Very Very Soon. In honour of this momentous occasion, TBWWLBVVS purchased gorgeous Crack partially because I was seated next to her whispering ‘You want them. They’re gorgeous. I want them. Buy them. If you don’t, I will. And then you’ll be sorry. And I will wear these sparkly flip-flops every time I see you, even when it snows. Especially when it snows. And I will start our evenings with ‘Hello Aalya, do you like my shoes?” because for the next few months she will need to pull attention away from The Belly and toward The Feet.
I don’t know why she feels she must do this, because when I am pregnant, Inshallah, I plan on attaching with an elastic a large golden frame around my belly and glue a neon sign that reads: LOOK to antennas jutting out of my tiara. I will smile and wave at each passer-by and call out: HI! I AM PREGNANT. ARE YOU? and ask the barren ones if they need a hug.
At dinner, we sat and discussed odd topics such as cultural infringement and spiritual malaise. We also discussed names we would like to name our children because Aalya and Dietrich have decided to name Baby in Belly an Arabic name. She asked for my preferred names and I gave her my top five girl names:
.1. Aalya
.2. Layla
.3. Sumeya
.4. Aisha
.5. Luluah (Which, in the book The Time Traveller’s Wife, was incorrectly written: Lulooluluah or something sounding like dizziness feels.)
The boy names are:
.1. Omar
.2. Faris
.3. Firas
.4. Ameen
.5. Yusuf
She knows that these are my top fives and if she chooses to take one, I too have the right to take that same one in the future. My imagined copyright does not expire.
As an aside: Check out the following page Aalya sent my way post conversation; I peed a little reading the ‘responses’ to the phenom of naming your child things like ‘Apple’ & ‘Rodana’.
One example from this place…
Comment: I grew up with a “grown-up” name (Victoria) and a “kid” name (Tori), as did my sister. I have always liked having both available….so we plan on naming our firstborn son Creighton.
Response: At last! A breath of logic! When he’s little, he can be called….Crate of Shit. Or One-Ton Creighton. Or Mr. Defies the I before E rule. And when he’s older, you won’t know what he’s called, ’cause you won’t be on speaking terms.
July 20, 2007
“It is good for a woman to keep her sense of humor intact and at the ready.
She must see, even if only in secret, that she is the funniest woman
in her world, which she should also see as being the most absurd world of all times.”
- Maya Angelou
(Thank you K’s dad.)
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