Introducing Lulu

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!

Quote of this day

"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

Unsolicited Call

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...

Neruda

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.

Peanuts

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."

James Joyce had nothin' on yer blogMistress

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...

Mama, The Riddler

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.

Occupation 101

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

Baby News

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.

Quote of this day

"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.)

Download

The song "Dancing" by Elisa - her voice is heartbreaking and the lyrics equally so...

Quote of this day

"Observe the wonders as they occur around you. Don't claim them. Feel the artistry moving through and be silent."
- Rumi

"Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent"

Serving as a sort of balance - for lack of a better word - to the neoc*n article I posted a few hours ago, here is a Frontline interview with Hamza Yusuf, a man for whom I have an endless amount of respect and admiration. He references Thoreau, Shakespeare and The Song of Roland; he discusses hegemony, foundations of democracy, need for dissent, and the role of media, etc.

It is the likes of him who make me proud. Not to mention that he's TOTALLY cute.

Quote of this day

"If you don't stand for something, you will fall for anything."
- Malcolm X, may he be resting in peace.

A warm hug in the middle of your week

If the consequence of such thinking weren't so devastating, it would be comical. Fundamentalists ranging from the Fundamentalist Muslim, Fundamentalist Jew, Fundamentalist Christian, Fundamentalist Anti-Religionist, Fundamentalist Anti-Crayonist, and Fundamentalist Anti-Humorist make me cry.

Here are some choice quotes from Ne*cons on a cruise: What cons*rvatives say when they think we aren't listening:

'"The Muslims are breeding. Soon, they'll have the whole of Europe."' (I appear to be shirking my duties as "Muslim breeder". I should really get on that.)
'"I went to Paris, and it was so lovely. [...] But then you think - it's surrounded by Muslims."'
'A Filipino waiter offers him a top-up of his wine, and he mock-whispers to me, "They all look the same! Can you tell them apart?"'
'"The coverage of this [Iraq] war is unbelievable. Even Fox News is unbelievable. You'd think we're the only ones dying. Enemy casualties aren't covered. We're doing an excellent job killing them."'
'"...nobody was tortured in Abu Ghraib or Guantanamo."'
'...black people "tend to revert to savagery", and should be given the vote only "when they stop eating each other"'
'"… A white man doesn't have a chance in this country."'
'"The Mexicans are getting these benefits, the coloureds or niggers, whatever they are saying, are getting these benefits, and I as a white man am losing my country."'
'Katrina showed [...] "the dysfunctionality that is evident in many black neighbourhoods"
'"Pinochet is a hero. He saved Chile."'

Among the brainiacs there were Bernard L*wis and Mark Ste*n.

...as heart-warming as Jesus C@mp.

On not responding

Hi everyone - I've been receiving all of the emails asking why I'm not responding to the many comments posted recently. I actually can't access my blog from work (firewall) and so even though I can access blogger.com in order to post, I can't access onefemalecanuck.com to respond to your comments during the day.

In the evenings, I am finding myself completely drained and have decided to let the comments take on a life of their own. I am writing and writing and writing because right now it feels like writing is my only saving grace. Please understand I am reading, appreciating and being moved (be it to laugh, cry or just feel warm and cozy) by each and every one of your comments and emails...but I will not be responding for quite some time. I hope that's okay, and that you'll cut me some necessary slack in the coming while :)

The comments section on this entry is closed.

The Fat Baldies

Daily, ask yourself about

Your life: How you lived that day.
Your knowledge: What you learned and how you applied it.
Your money: How you acquired and spent it.
Your body: How you used it.

Try to make it a habit and always forgive your mistakes and your trip-ups, and then make certain to work away from whatever you've recognised as hurtful to yourself, this environment and others. Remember: we are only human and we will always make mistakes, no matter their devastating stupidity.

I have a very simple rule of thumb (that I don't always follow, but I try...): Behave in a way that I can tell my children about, and/or in a way that I would understand from my children. Today, I can honestly say that there isn't one moment in my life (as of yet and Inshallah never) that I would be ashamed to share with my babies when they're older. Granted, some stories would need much more context setting, but there's nothing I can think of that I would willingly hide from them.

Even though I may never have children, I believe a parent represents - quite literally - the world to a child. The poorer the behaviour of a parent, the more difficult it will be for the child to engage in a healthy environment. I could be wrong, but I don't plan on testing the theory out on my kids. This has nothing to do with genetics or "access", but rather everything to do with obligation, ethical standard, self-awareness and determination.

Often times, our obligation to ourselves falls to the side and we behave in ways that are nothing short of emotional and physical self-mutilation. When you throw a child into that mix, something should change about how we live our lives and how much damage we're willing to inflict on ourselves and inescapably, on those for whom we are responsible.

This may very well be meaningless as I am not yet a parent and should it happen, I hope that both myself and my husband are people of whom our children may be proud. People they respect and turn to for advice before anyone else. No matter how much we love our friends and how 'familial' we may think we are, our love for those individuals is nothing compared to the love of their parents. I don't think we can fully comprehend the depths of that until we are parents ourselves (even the worst of us). Remember the simple Chinese proverb that reads: "To understand your parents' love you must raise children yourself".

I remember a very important conversation I had and during which I made the following blanket statement: "My daughter can't marry whoever she wants".
In retrospect, I think 'WTF?' Of course my daughter(s) and son(s) will be able to marry whomever they want, because a parent's duty and obligation has nothing to do with exerting control over their children, and it most definitely isn't playing the role of an emotional ter*orist in their lives. It is to provide them with the tools and the guidance to choose properly or improperly for themselves and to always and unflinchingly have parental support - if not approval. But in order for me to get to the point where I can write this and see it clearly, I needed to understand where and how that sentiment was rooted in my mind in order for me to investigate it, undo it and then make certain there were no seeds left. This process took some time, but I'm definitely the better for having lived it; I'm sure my children will laugh at me when I tell them I once thought I would / could control anything in their lives.

As with any relationship, parents bring baggage into theirs with their children and if not careful, the consequence is all-consuming for all involved. I've seen the blowback and the crippling effect of this situation because we are always children and we are always developing. The healthy mind and life belong to those who are constantly working on that development. Much too often, we separate our childhood from our adulthood, as though they can be separate, like 'childhood' actually ends and 'adulthood' has a Go block. I don't know if we do this because we have a very rigid concept of Time, but I don't think the 'why' is important, but rather, the recognition that 'childhood' is 'adulthood' only evolved; childhood can never be separated from the rest of our lives as though it exists in a bubble, because it is the very blueprint of who we become. (I could here discuss causality and probability, but I won't. Instead, I'll merely say that even though changing that blueprint is a very arduous task, it is not an impossible one.)

The best way to imagine this is to see our lives not as existing on a single linear plane, but as a circle of ink that has ebbs and flows of life 'moments' that run into one another infinitely.

Take on the responsibility even when you're not facing it just yet. Become the person you wish to be for the sake of the fat baldies you'll one day stare at in fascination as they poop and toot themselves into surprise.

Quote of this day

"The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed."
-C.G. Jung

Roots

I recently wrote something, of which the following is a small bit. I never made it public because it felt too raw and because I was arguing with myself while I was typing it out because in essence, I didn’t really believe what I was writing:

You know what?

I just don't care anymore. Not about any of it. Nothing really matters > not who we are, or who we aspire to be or how hard we try and how much we care. Nothing really matters, not anywhere and not anytime.

…bla bla bla...

I'm exhausted and struggling and I'm exhausted of struggling.
Tonight, I'm shaken to my core and I'm terrified.

I know I'll get out of this, but it's going to take me some time.

And so I woke the next morning still arguing with myself re the above sentiments and I decided to go a-mosque-ing because I felt as though I were being fragmented awake.

I went early and the doors were locked. I banged and banged and went from door to door but no one came. I prayed outside behind the mosque and laid my forehead to the pavement and cried. I was so completely alone and terrified and shaking and almost incapable of taking a breath because I didn’t know what – if anything – could make it - whatever 'it' was - better.

After it rained on me, I got into my car and as I was pulling away, a gentleman was opening the door to the mosque. I rolled my window down and he greeted me with the friendliest ‘Al-salamu alaikum, sister!’ His voice dropped as he saw my face and the tears covering it. Immediately, he gestured for me to ‘go go, park, sister, and then come in. You will have the mosque to yourself. Come, come!’

I was drained and exhausted and almost beyond my own physical capacity to stand. But I managed to pray five 2 ruk’as as I had intended to.

And something happened while I was doing this. Something that’s never happened before in any of the times or any of the places I have prayed; Something that worked to carry me through the rest of my prayers and something that has carried me since.

I was moving to stand between one of the ruk’as and in that singular moment, I felt grounded. I actually and quite literally felt rooted. The mosque was my home; I was home and I was at complete and total peace. I understood who I was and what I was and I was finally calmed.

The night I was writing frantically the fragment I share with you above, was a night that found me defining Me not by who and what I was, but by exactly what I was not. I was mired in misery. Having experienced that, I can say that I don’t think there’s anything more challenging than not knowing who we are except, perhaps, when we define ourselves by what we are not. A negative positive, if you will. I never want to relive that night and I plan on fighting those sentiments tooth and nail if they ever turn their ugly faces my way again because they can go f*ck themselves.

Reading the sentiments that saw me move to mosque the following morning, I feel an overwhelming sorrow for the terrified girl who wrote those words, but…after praying, she was leaving the mosque and was met by the brother who ushered her in. He was waiting to ask if she was okay and when she smiled, he said ‘Alhamdulilah’ before he introduced her to his four year old son who was all big brown eyes and curly eyelashes. And when she got into her car, she started crying for a whole other set of reasons, for each of which she could only say ’Alhamdulilah’.


----------
And if there’s anything to take away from this post apart from boredom, it’s that we all fight and we all struggle and we all most definitely hurt, but…we’re all actually okay. If not today, then tomorrow. Give yourself a break and the room to be fragmented; you will come out prettier on the other side. (Right after which you’ll wear a tea cozy on your head.)

I am a happy copy cat

Check out this cool photo from gorgeous sister Anjum. It's one of the soon-to-be 365 pics in her photo-a-day (2007) set.

I'm going to COPY HER! I too am going to make a photo-a-day thing...only I don't know when I will start it, BUT I WILL! (I wonder: Yasmine, are you doing this, too?)

"Awesomeness".

Two worthy mentions

Places you must visit while in Montreal:

.1. Suite 88 Chocolatier, where you must try the Strawberry Pepper gelato.

.2. Yves Laroche Galerie d'Art by the old port. Even though there is a tendency to carry work that leans a little to the grotesque, it's all beautiful.

Head Gear

I was seated with a book in hand, listening to Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto in B Flat minor (Allegro non troppo) and preparing to drink Cinnamon Apple Spice & Moroccan Pomegranate Red herbal teas mixed in my newly purchased teapot (isn’t she lovely?) hiding beneath The Cozy (lovelier, yes?).




…I am pointing out the spout of the teapot so you believe there is a teapot hidden beneath this The Cozy.

As I placed The Cozy over the teapot, I got to thinking that The Cozy would serve as an excellent accessory to The Ponytail in Canadian winters. It would be called The Pony Cozy: Keeping your head cozy and your ponytail snazzy.

Look, I’ve even taken two different angled photos for you to consider…





Fits perfectly and will be a very easy product to pitch.

Soon, I shall be well on my way to making my first million. (I will always appreciate that you were my friends when I was merely a thousandaire.)

Lordz of Brooklyn

I love rap because it serves as the perfect backdrop to my beep-boxing and hidden talent: playing spoons and every once in a while come across a talented group whose music and lyrics blow my mind.

All of the groups and individuals to whom I've pointed you are all exceptionally gifted artists. More importantly, they're all politically charged and socially active individuals who have powerful messages to deliver.

Meet The Lordz of Brooklyn.

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I tried to change things on here a while back and I’ve had to delete a few comments and repost them when possible. This is why some of your comments show an odd time stamp, some links were broken (now all should be fixed) or there was confusion in the names. I deleted some, and fixed others. I’m still working on making everything 100% but it’ll take me a few days still. Should any of you notice any further mistakes, please e-mail to let me know.

Yasmine and Maria, you two were most affected by this, so please review your comments - I had to delete the ones where I mixed things up. I can't repost comments "retroactively", so in some places you'll have to actually repost at today's date if you still want to (I've emailed you a little note to indicate this). I'm sorry! (You'd just have to go back around one month...)

The Cave of Spastic

Right. Ok, well, what follows is a simple rule of thumb for those of you who live here. If ever you feel the need to draft an email to someone...an email where you don't really know what to say, or how to say it, or even if you should say it, I strongly advise that you never populate the To field with the maybe-maybe-not-someday-recipient's email address.

A = You know to whom you are writing.
B = You know their email is in your Address Book.
C = You've memorised their email address because you're just that type of person. (Type 'Crazy'.)

Ergo A + (B and/or C) = You really don't need to populate that field. Trust me, for I am an archaeologist discovering the depths of The Cave of Spastic.

And today, I discovered that there were - much to my surprise - many deeper levels to The Cave.

Anyone wish to take a guess as to what these new depths may be?

They are the "I've hit the Send button instead of the Delete button" as well as the "I've hit the Send button instead of the Save button" because we all know that the first Spast-acular act is meaningless without the second equally, if not more so, Spastic move. Why stop at one when two provide double the insanity, double the fun and double the pleasure? Because when you short-circuit twice, you are guaranteed (and isn't this our aim?) troth to the title of "Crazy Girl".

This is a title I embrace today and to which none of you can have access until you find greater depths in The Cave of Spastic.

I have a tiara and plan on purchasing a wand on my way home SO BACK OFF.

---------
(1) Should you err in this manner, you are always welcome to follow the email(s) up with a comical two liner such as
"I meant to send that to George Clooney / Angelina Jolie / Jesus / my belly button.
really."
(2) Ibid.

Stephanie & Madeline

I overheard the following conversation this morning between sisters Stephanie and Madeline (& mum), respectively aged 3 & 4:

"I'm a daughter."
"NO! No you're not!"
"YES I AM."
"No, I'm a daughter. Not you. Only one of us can be a daughter. You're just Stephanie."
"NO! NO! MOM! MOM! WAAAAAAAAAAAAA. MOM! I WANT TO BE A DAUGHTER BUT MADELINE WON'T LET ME!"
"You're both my daughters. You're sisters and daughters."
"I'm a sister."
"NO! No you're not!"
"YES I AM."
"Girls. Please stop. Stephanie, what would you like to drink?"
"APPLE JUICE!"
"I'm apple juice."
"NO! No you're not!"
...please feel free to fill in the blanks...

I absolutely adore only cute and bright children preferrably if they're a little fat.

Canada Day revisited

Amidst conversations about politics, engineering (I contributed much to that one), religion, the Middle East, children, relationships, friendships, airplanes, Salman Rushdie, marshmallows, cooking recipes, digital cameras, sand pits, CBC, BBC and STDs, the following are my choice quotes from Canada’s Birthday celebration at Dietrich and Aalya’s. Photos posted when applicable.

"FaceBook is a time-suck."
"FaceBook can blow me."
- Steve's witty response to Sean's otherwise normal observation of what FaceBook really is.


"Beneath that is the bb-q."
"I sort of figured it wasn't the Kaba, because it doesn't look like we're in Saudi."
"Cackle. OH MY GOD, I'm not religious but my Muslim blood thinks that's so sacrilegious."
- Aalya and I


"Jasper, may I take your photo?"
"Yes you may. Please go ahead."
- Jasper and I

"I'm a bottom", when introducing himself.
&
"This is Pretty. She knows Shep Pettibone, can you believe it?]", when introducing me.
- Sean



"This bb-q is all man."
"Do you think they'd let me take him home?"
- Steve & Sean



“I don’t think we’ll run out of wood.”
“Did you guys need wood?”
“Yeah.”
“Because I have, like, a six foot long piece of wood at home.”
“Why didn’t you bring it?”
“Well. I asked: ‘Is there anything I can bring?’ and no body said: ‘Yeah, actually, how about a six foot long piece of wood’.”
- Steve, Dietrich and an unseen

"The difficult times are the times that really show you what a relationship is made out of. That's when you decide that that's the person you want to have around when you're miserable."
- Natalie


“If you’re not on culinary duty, you are not in the kitchen. Now, Go.”
“Someone hand me a knife and a mushroom, quick.”
- Maha talking to no one in particular, in response to Dietrich


"Somewhere around here is the world's cutest kid."
- Almost everyone at the party at one point or another during the course of the evening.

“We all need a gay role model. Whose your gay?”
(Silence.)
“Now get your finger out of your nose, we have company.”
- Sean to Jasper, aged no-more-than-six

“Nadia, where did you get the firewood?”
“On the way here.”
“Did you cut it down?”
“Yes, actually she did. Every time she saw a good tree, she would pull over and run out with her little axe.”
- Nadia, Aalya-Mum, Sean & I

“All these cameras are frightening me.”
“You should really talk to a doctor about that.”
- Steve & Andrew

“I play the piano, accordion, cello, violin and a little saxophone.”
“I play the kazoo.”
- Steve in response to MJ
(Note: I was laughing so hard at Steve’s response that I’m not certain I have all of MJ’s musical talent well documented.)

“Do you remember when you used to come and pick me up after closing the McDonald’s cash register?”
“Oh my God, in my white van?”
“And your techno music and you white Levi’s jeans.”
(Beat.)
“Levi’s rocked.”
“They sure did.”
(Beat.)
“But truth be told, I haven’t worn them since I used to safety pin them tight all along the side from the knee down.”
- Sean, Joanne and Natalie

"I like to take photos of myself."
"John's going to post those on FaceBook right now."
"FaceBook can blow me."
- John, Gio & Steve


"Can you please take a picture of me and the stars?"
"What?"
"The stars. Over there..."
"You mean the hanging lights."
"Whatever. The electric stars. I think they're pretty."
- Andrew & I

"I work"
"Yes"
"hard for"
"Right"
"my money"
"So what are you saying?"
"and I want to"
"Ok."
"LiveInAGoodNeighbourhood."
"How unfortunate for you."
"BecauseI'veLivedInABadNeighbourhoodAlready."
"Money won't make you happy at all."
"ButIWasMuggedStandingAFootAwayFromMyFence."
"Poor people are often much richer than rich people."
"But there's nothing wrong"
"Sad. Really, sad. Money is nothing. You should really just stop."
“But.”
“No, just stop it. I’m feeling rather sorry.”
- Aalya-Mum responding to Dan attempting to discuss a standard of living.


CRASH. Tinkle. Tinkle. Tinkle. CRASH.
"That has to be John."
"It is! Look - Aalya's cleaning up and he's sitting there."
"Likely apologising for breaking something."
"It's just. John. You just have to expect it."
"Aalya probably prohibited him from helping her clean."
"God, he's just probably apologising like mad! Poor John."
"He probably saw the strawberry shortcake and in his excitement to reach it knocked half of the kitchen over."
- No names will be posted re above for fear of reprimand from John.

"Snap. Snap. Click. Shutter. Snap"
"I really don't know what sorts of pictures I'm taking. Oh dear, there seems to be something wrong with my camera. Oh my. (Snap. Click.) Oh! I've GOT you!"
- Aalya-Mum as she took very close-up photos of my face.


Posting because it is the most adorable photo of anyone I have ever taken.

Complete photo stream can be found here. Will post a short videoclipp soon enough...

Augusta the band

I rarely come across music I wouldn't normally listen to and then magically enjoy it. Well, tonight I did just that.

Here's a little pointer to some local talent who go by the name of Augusta.

On my way home and with the world's bestest ice cream in hand, I went into Videoflicks where I was served by the prettiest person in the world - honestly, the girl was beautiful - who just happened to be playing some Augusta.

The girl looked very young and so when I asked who she had on, she said "some kids I went to high school with" and I said 'kids? high school? and they play this well? you have very pretty skin. and even with your cap on in that manner, you are still really beautiful because the shocking blue of your cap works to accentuate your beautiful face. kids? i'm really old. i should really get on fixing things. lovely lovely lovely skin you have. but it's just not as good as this ice-cream. prailines and cream. i think i'll pick up some pizza on my way home. mmmm', and by that I mean: "really? that's awesome. do they have a cd?"

Check them out - listen to their stuff and give them a chance. You'll be pleasantly surprise, I promise.

I accidentally typed "necrophilia" rather than "nepotism"

.1. The last time I won anything was at the age of 7 at the weekly Bingo 'fun times' during Gaza summers. I won a photo album that remains at my family's home in The Strip.

Add to that short list a free massage! I entered while at the dragon boat races a week and a half back and am now slotted in for my one-hour free massage at Netta Massage & Yoga Clinic! This is really terribly fantastic news.

.2. Even more fantastic is that A Montreal Paul (fellow blogger) & Maria have both read my recommended Struggling to Surrender and we are to have a theological discussion about this! Paul wrote: "Becoming attuned to the wonder of the world, of being alive, and being thankful about that, is a wonderful thing that comes through at certain points" about the book and briefly explained that the reason it resonated with him was because of the title of the book, which reminded him of this, a lovely poem he wrote nearly a year ago. Maria said that she was intrigued by the brief bio of the the author, Lang, and was "looking for something to sink my heart into and really think about" right before telling me all about the new Crack she's purchased.

I love that there is this virtual reading club taking on a life of it's own!

.3. G Strombolopaopolous is interested in conversing with my girl: name not to be divulged just yet. He is her long-time boyfriend, a fact of which he is unaware, but one he should soon know well enough. I think he is - as Yasmine would say - a Rockstar and so I fully support his decision to become the chat-partner of: I still can't divulge her name, what's wrong with you?

I plan on being a guest on his show some day and so I appreciate all nepotistic efforts that (she, stop asking me who, please) will undoubtedly make on my behalf.

Further updates on this soon, I promise.

.4. Boring slow day today that has seen me eat two oranges and two apples.

Liquid Dyslexia

It has taken me some time, but I have perfected the gas nozzle "clip and pour and don't spill and stop right at the $.00 mark".

I do not spill gas and I pride myself on the fact that I always reach the $.00 mark. Always. Some have perceived this as a little bit of an obsession, but to those people, I think 'SHUT IT'...only it comes out like: "Well, you know, we all have our little idiosyncrasies you who wears ugly shoes unworthy of the title 'Crack', ha ha. I guess that's mine...and a whole many others".

Unfortunately, I have a severe dislike for and inability to properly use the coffee spout. I have tried being polite to Her and cooing at Her and even playing Her soft music and lighting candles, only She never quite responds. I'm sure it's because She is much too busy saving the world and Her denial of me really has nothing to do with the fact that it's me. I'm lovely, yes.

And look, I understand fully well that it is not, in fact, a "coffee spout", but I really haven't a clue as to what it's called. It's that thing that is usually black and sits on top of the "tap" from which the coffee spills forth (and God said: "LET THERE BE CAFFEINE") and you lift it Up to open the floodgates to love and then Down to close the flood of What I Need To Survive. If any of you wish to show off and give me the official name of this thing, then please comment. Gold Star and induction into The Hall of Geek for you, where we shall be brethren/sisteren in Geek Kingdom.

Anyway. I can't get That Which Can Not Be Named to work for me. I always overspill my coffee or under fill my mug. And for the longest time, I used to think that the overflow of coffee was to be spilled into the garbage can because NO BODY TOLD ME that that thing sitting flat on the counter and looking suspiciously like my heating and air conditioning grate was for the excess coffee. I always assumed it was there for clumsy folk who accidentally spilled their coffee as they added cream, milk, sugar or most likely, as they tried to place the all-too-often ill-fitting chapeau on the coffee cup head.

All this to provide you with the earth shattering news that I am liquid dyslexic and can't use that coffee tap thing properly. Please control your excitement at the news; I'm being interviewed re matter right after BBC's Alan Johnston (now freed, yay!).

Film-strip

Check out my new Profile pic! Someone who lives here made it for me and so in honour of their kindness, I am posting it as my Profile pic for a wee bit.

Thank you!

Healing & gratitude by example

I'm learning and I don't plan on stopping until I drop dead...

Healing
As "Support" for my girlfriend, I went to a Narcotics Anonymous meeting last night. It was my first time and I was moved to tears by the stories shared. Sitting among the participants I realised that I was a sort of a**hole for ever wallowing in my own "misery" when the pain of others was so incredibly palpable and next to which my own became nothing short of a spoiled brat's self-pity. I was surrounded by individuals who were so grateful to be alive, individuals who lived day by day, battling themselves so they could be aware of what they once were and who they are today. Individuals who faced themselves and who were thankful for the ability to do so. Their battle to heal and their road to recovery is: fearless self-awareness.

I have a friend who, since our early twenties, I've watched live in rage and anger. I never said anything but I'd always felt that anger was a mask for something far more painful, something I've never been able to clearly see in order to articulate. After last night's meeting, I finally understood that her anger serves to mask a deep and sometimes immeasurable pain and sadness. I also realised that it is the path we walk if we wish to avoid forgiveness.

I walked around for a couple of hours after the meeting and I found the strength to honestly face myself as I am today and the kind of woman I want to be tomorrow. I once said to someone I love that: "I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop" and in essence that meant that I was always waiting to be hurt. But last night, I decided to throw that out. I threw it out because I don't like that girl. I used to think it was a means of self-preservation, but last night I realised that although that was a part of it, it was also my defence against / fear of both hurt and pain. By living that sentiment I was living as someone wounded. By what, I couldn't tell you...and even if I could, it's likely not something I would share.

Last night I understood the reality that in order for us to live, we must allow ourselves to feel all emotions, including pain and fear, in all of their extremities. With the dulling or avoidance of any emotion comes the severing of others, whether we want that or not. I won't lie to you, I'm terrified to hurt and I'm scared to see what's inside, but I do welcome it, if for no other reason than because I now refuse to let fear or pain direct my life or my feelings. If anything is going to direct my life, it's going to be love and nothing short of...

O articulated it best when she said "Place fear behind you, love in front of you and run like hell".

Gratitude
During the sharing period of the meeting, a younger man spoke to the idea of gratitude. He explained how he used to get sick and tired of hearing the words "I am so grateful I am here" until now. Now that he too is grateful to be waking up in the morning and remembering the day previous. Now that he too is grateful to live and breathe and possess the capacity to see his own life unfold before him. Now that he is able to manage his disease.

It brought to mind an old Arab proverb that mama taught me: "On the heads of the healthy are crowns seen only by the ailing".

Although gratitude for and in this life is a sometimes rare commodity, it's one we need to aspire to daily if we are to live healthy and stable lives built on the present rather than the "what if" of a future yet undecided and the "I wish I had" of a past no longer accessible.

I'm trying...and on the day I die, I'll try to post an entry to let you know how I made out in this world and before I head to FOREVER AND EVER LAND...

"FaceBook can blow me"

The infamous words of one Steve from the Canada Day Celebrations at Aayla & Dietrich's and a sentiment I whole-heartedly support. As of 6pm this early evening, FaceBook's officially been deleted from my life. My three day return to it did nothing but exhaust me.

None of you received a notice or an email because I've decided not to expend any more energy on something from which I'm receiving nothing but pain. (Notice: Even the comments section on this entry is closed.)

Happy Birthday, Canada

Aalya is having close to 20 people camping in her backyard for Canada's birthday - pics and stories to come soon, inshallah.