Prolific Immigrant

11 August 1953 – 26 July 2008

“Verily to Allaah we belong and unto Him is our return.”

May you rest in peace, Dave; Your passing will be felt in one too many activist circles to mention.

Hurrah! A new category!!

.1. Christian Bale in The Dark Knight.
When he’s in the interrogation room alone with The Joker.
And he looses his sh*t on The Joker’s ass over Rachel’s whereabouts.

I’m pretty sure there was a collective sigh from all female members (& The Gays) in the audience.

MY GOD.

What is it about a man’s ferocity and ability to teeter on the edge of madness (but only over you and his family) that makes women hot? Or maybe it’s just me and if that’s the case then let’s pretend I never said anything to that effect…

.2. I see fat pregnant women.

The other day, I stood up to hand my seat over to the fat pregnant lady. When she asked me why and I told her it was because she was pregnant, she was offended and really very mean about it.

I am rarely speechless, but the violence of her response left me speechless and so it was great of the girl next to me to block the barrage of words by saying: “She was just trying to be nice. If you don’t like it, just keep movin’…and maybe stop eating so many twinkies…”, which she did.

.3. ATTENTION ALL MEN!

When a woman is headed toward the same door that you’re going through right now, please don’t keep holding it open for her if she is more than 3.5 meters away. Otherwise, she’ll be obligated to run at the door and then maybe even smash into you because she was running a little too fast in her heels because she didn’t want to put you out andjustfeltreallyawkwardthatyouwereholdingthedooropenwhenshewassodamnfarawayalready.

I’m just sayin’.

.4. Remember The Black T and my foray into the world of Athletes?

My Coaches read my entry because I sent it to them to make them smile. Because it was funny. And endearing. And because I love them so…

But then Chris, yesterday? He told me that they took my post into consideration because they had already been thinking about this likely because every class I ask if I can buy The Black T NOW? and that…are you ready for it…? THAT!

THAT I AM A WBK ATHLETE!!!!!!

AND THAT I WILL GET MY BLACK T SHIRT!!!!!

BECAUSE I’M AN ATHLETE!!!!!!

Because our training sessions are worthy of making us ATHLETES!

Because when the Gee Gees train and when the NFL or CFL or NBA or WhateverTF acronym they are and they train? They’re only usually training at a level one or two – whereas WE. WE? WE WBK ATHLETES, WE train up to level 6 and some of us even level 7.

Suck on that Acronym Boys!

I’M GETTING A BLACK T SHIRT!

I very nearly hugged Chris when he told me, but he’s sort of a Giant and I thought he would mistake the hug for a possible grapple and then throw me over the edge and into the pool.

(I heart WBK.
I heart WBK Chris & Dana.)

OMG.

Download Luba‘s Let It Go.

I’ve been dancing to that song all week (even while at the office) > love the lyrics.

(Psst! Where is Luba?)

For those of you who have lived here on a regular basis, you know that 2007 was a definitive year for me. In fact, I can now say that 2007 may have been the most definitive of my wee little life thus far.

Every single day brings us face to face with a dozen mini choices; on some days, the choices made define the essence of our character. For nearly six months in 2007, I was facing choices that lent a hand to shaping who I was and what I stood for. Not one of those choices was simple or easy. Most definitely, not one choice made was made with a light heart. But, each one of the choices I made in 2007, I would make again in a heartbeat. Every euphoria and every trauma and every deception and every single point of me, I would relive and relive with an open and trusting heart.

Although many of the people who I met in 2007 are no longer a part of my life (nor will they ever be a part of my life), I will always cherish the time in which they were a presence in my days. Thankful and grateful, too. People don’t necessarily come into our lives to stay, but rather to help us and themselves reach another stage in our lives. They must leave because the lessons learned are ones that can only be learned once their presence is no longer felt.

That reality is only a sad and difficult thing to accept if you are not willing to see the good in every single situation.
If you choose to focus on merely the ugly and the painful, then you will not understand that at the essence of everything is goodness because you will be much too busy trying to make sense of a painting while standing with your nose pressed against it. Likely, you are more comfortable wallowing in how you have been wronged and how you are owed, rather than learning and breathing and living through the most difficult experience in order to improve who you are.

Likely, you live and then you regret.

But that’s not the way I have ever functioned and it is most definitely not the way I will ever function.
For this, I must thank and cherish Islam, because the foundation I stand upon is one of Faith and Belief, and that foundation demands that I be thankful for every single thing that comes in to and potentially leaves my life. As a Muslimah, I must believe that I am blessed – in fact, that we are all blessed by virtue of being alive – and not merely pay it lip service. That alone is enough. That alone is enough to teach me that 2007 is a blessing.

More importantly than that particular concept in Islam, though, is the other, and that is: we should fear nothing in this world but Allah.

I have one too many times seen regret lead to fear, trepidation and bitterness. I’ve actually watched as someone wallowed in their past and actively denied their present. Fear of committing the same mistakes over which they currently wallow. Fear of being hurt.

But here’s a little secret for you: you will always be at risk of getting hurt, so buck up and deal with it, already. Denying it won’t stop it, but it will stop you from evolving. Worse still is that it is a terrible way to waste a short and wondrous life, this living in fear.

Remember that in order to regret, you must emotionally pull yourself out of today; you press the pause button on right now and you instead turn your mind’s eye to yesterdays. (It’s like ‘nostalgia’, which is more often than not, merely another way of communicating your displeasure with right now.)

And quite frankly, you shouldn’t have time to do this because you need to concentrate on today. How and who you will help today. How you will improve today. How you are going to work today to make a better tomorrow. There is enough pain in this world for you to focus on, none of it having to do with your sad state.

Ultimately, “regret” is a means to self indulge and self spoil and many personalities are comfortable in that state. It is an irresponsibility that you level against your own potential and future. And just as you wouldn’t harm your body physically, so too should you never stand in the way of your own potential and motion forward.

Here’s the kicker, kitties (let’s get ready to shed our egos): We must believe that everything in this life happens for a reason and that reason doesn’t necessarily have to do with our life. Sometimes (and this you must accept if you perceive yourself as a functioning part of and contributor to the overall unity of society), we have to understand that we will go through traumatic situations for the benefit not of our self, but of others.

Crazier still is that we may never know how our pain helped someone else. And yet, we must accept it with open arms. (Odd this concept of altruism, n’est pas?)

But that takes strength.
And the question becomes: Are you strong enough?

I blogged the following:

.1. Have just come back from seeing Batman Begins with Di and her Peej. Before the film began, we were discussing the dynamics between men and women, and the rules of flirtation. Somewhat thrown by the different perspectives (e.g. what a woman defines as a signal vs a man’s idea of a signal), I turned to Peej and asked “Why are you men so dense?” to which his ricochet was “Men are dense because women think they’re being obvious.”

What a great response! Missed opportunities?
I laughed …right before I scribbled down his words.

.2. Re Batman, film was good and story well spun. Christian Bale is one of the finest actors of this generation, and I apologize ahead of time as in the coming paragraph will objectify him.

I rarely find men in full suits appealing, preferring them in either: (a) Matching jacket / pants, unbuttoned tapered (not over-sized and sloppy) shirt; or, (b) Perfect is a man with scruffy beard and messy hair (but clean) in either cargo pants or jeans. I lean toward the rugged rather than slick, but as I watched the movie, found myself thinking: Christian Bale gives good suit.

No one can wear a suit like him, and I think seeing him will forever be a throw back to American Psycho.

Mind you, he didn’t look so bad wearing only bruises and sunshine…

And I am today writing to reiterate my love of Christian Bale in a suit.
Because no one. And I mean: NOT ONE MAN can wear a suit like Christian Bale. The man gives good suit. In fact, he gives best suit.

So much so that I’m nearly jumping out of my skin at the prospect of him repeatedly giving this best of suit in three days’ time. I have seen the previews for The Dark Knight and I have been witness to the perfection that is Bale in more suits and. Honestly? My teeth rattle.

Meep.

Best. Outfit. Ever?
Black pin-striped dress pants and matching blazer. Simple white button down undone at the neck.

Jeeeeesus, I’m deprived.
I can’t wait to see Bale!

But frankly, why do I love him so much?
Because I love the way he loves his wife. I love the way he adores his wife – because you can tell that he doesn’t just love her (yes: I used the words ‘just love her’), he actually likes her. And that, my friends, is what makes all of the difference in the long run. (Anyone disagree?)

LOVE HIM.

If you don’t already love John Cusack and his WarIncTeam… (Click only if you’re interested in reading the political side of me.)

Comments here are closed…

It was my first time visiting Calgary and I loved it. Surprisingly, Calgary is a lovely and calming place (notwithstanding their crazy Conservative politix).

Most of my trip was spent with R, who is the sister of my uncle’s wife. R was married nearly ten years back and due to a move to Kazakhstan and the birthing of four children, we rarely maintained touch. But, seeing her after nearly twelve years proved that real friendship does in fact span time, no matter the clock’s ticking.

Her children are joys to be around; the youngest one being Jennah who reminds me of Maggie Simpson as she is constantly with a bottle in her mouth.

Here are The Babies:

And here is Jennah (also, with bottle):

R’s husband was so nice and so warm and so welcoming that I couldn’t ask for more. They make a lovely couple, see:

I gifted Jennah the world’s greatest gold lame crack that she wore from the moment she awoke to the moment she slept. More importantly, I gifted the household a new garden!! I am both proud of and excited by this choice. Now, inshallah no one will forget to water the plants and they will live a long and healthy life, reminding R and Co. of I each summer when they bloom.

Due to certain circumstance, there were some very difficult moments that remain beyond my comprehension. What I can say about that is that it’s reinforced, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that any decision making process shared between partners must stem from the same value system. (Otherwise, you’re completely f*cked.)

Almuhim. I have some highlights to share, as follows…

.1. GEESE!!

.2. This is the Calgary Tower:

…of which the top left hand corner is made of super duper strong plexi-glass or something like it (this, I hear, is the scientific term):

When you reach the top of The Tower, you can walk out on to this plexi glass thing and see ALL THE WAY DOWN TO THE STREET! (This excites me.) Equally as important, if you stand beneath the plexi thing all the way down on the street and you have a very strong camera, you will see up the skirts of good people such as I. There is no getting around this, as I discovered.

Right. So I am by no stretch of the imagination a trepidatious person, or someone who doesn’t appreciate risk taking. I do it all the time and am prone to diving head first because I am of the opinion that time is precious and one should spend it doing and being with the things that make them happy and sunshine-y. So…it was with great surprise that I couldn’t make myself take an actual step on to the plexi platform while looking ALL THE WAY DOWN at the concrete. Instead, I had to stare straight ahead, walk to the side and then look down. It was totally trippy. I loved it.

…the best two pictures involve Aaminah.

The first is of her completely and totally floating in air:

while the second is of her standing next to spider man:

R had been there before but she had never been able to make it out on to the plexi platform. I coached her and she made it. Also, I coached some random woman who was absolutely mortified but managed to do it – she told me I had a fantastic way about me and trustworthy. (That’s how you represent Islam, Kitties…) That interaction was as trippy and as fulfilling as the plexi platform, but that’s just me.

Look! Muslims!
>> They’re just like You! <<
They sit on plexi platforms!

Also, while at The Calgary Tower, I signed something (I don’t know what)

Got busy

& discovered that when My People aren’t terrorizing Your People, We can be found seducing You into submission

.3. We played in Banff

.4. I wrote at the feet of Lake Louise

.5. I went to visit Na.oh.mi in Edmonton and realized that there’s few people with whom we can share so much of ourselves so easily. Na.oh.mi is one such friend. She and Jason are soon moving to Calgary and so this little home of theirs will be no more.

Edmonton took Na.oh.mi and I on a wild goose chase for a Dairy Queen (skor blizzard, please), a trip to Rona, lunch at Da*de*oo’s, deep conversations about de-weeding one’s garden, three episodes of Arrested Development and the world’s yummiest miso salad dressing.

And finally…

.6. I made a new friend, who:
- introduced me to RAW BEEF (a.k.a. Beef Tenderloin Tartar) that I find myself craving right now
- told me how gasoline lamps function (I used to think it was by magic alone!)
- let me drive their Lexus GS350, a car that starts WITH A BUTTON! You push a BUTTON! (My New Friend likes toys and so also has a Porsche 911 S convertible. Lucky for them that I can’t drive stick, or else I would have been all over the Porsche…)
- met Bambi with me
and
- showed me that Calgary was in fact secretly Tuscany

All in all, the trip was as close to perfect as I would have liked it…

.1. Because when I think of Unions, it seems a propos that NYC come to mind.

.2. Stare at one spot on the tracks; as soon as there’s movement in the periphery, your eye picks it up and there’s your rat. (That’s the trick.)

.3. More breakfast! (Fresh yogurt & fruits, a croissant and a fruit plate. It was a little much, but who am I not to take one for the team?)

As you can see, I had my agenda / diary so as to jot down my random observations and Shoosh’s laptop (because I left Baby Mac at home); I was trying to write out my notes re a review of War, Inc. and instead drowned in the latte.

.4. BALL GAME!! (This is the stadium which is to be torn down so that it may be replaced with a shinier version.)

Yankees played the Red Wings.

.5. We dropped by The Coffee House for a thick and gooey breakfast, where I quite possibly took the best photo of Sharshoor, ever.

Three things to note re The Coffee House. Shoosh nearly took out the hostess because she was so busy texting on her BlackBerry that she ignored us for a little too long. Without warning, Shoosh turned to me and said: “Shoo hay 7aywaneh?” which literally translates to “What is she, an animal?”, but actually means “What? Is she an idiot?”

Shoosh is full of fire and energy and so her tone was easy enough to read; Hostess put down her BlackBerry (because your a$$ is so important that you need to text immediately? (To which the natural response is, of course, because our a$$es are more important and we need to be sat down asap. I see my own indulgence here…)) and sat us down without any more texting.

It was the day the Netherlands lost to Russia and the two loudest, drunkest and most obnoxious men in the joint took a liking to us. They were a little on the wanker side and wearing what can only be described as attire meant to birth Rock ‘n Roll imagery.

I don’t mind a man who drinks once in a while, but he’d better know how to hold his liquor. These guys didn’t have a clue and at one point, one of them came over to our table and grabbed my sunglasses before I quietly and quickity split took them out of his hand and didn’t respond to any of his questions so as to not give him any ideas or allusion that I was interested.

Much more endearing than the drunken slobs were a couple seated across from us. They couldn’t take their hands off one another and it was absolutely adorable. It worked, I think, because they both had the same colouring and they were young and cute and so into one another they didn’t take notice of anyone else in the joint.

There was a playfulness in the way they interacted and a comfort that engaged anyone who looked at them. (I’m all for public displays of affection when you’re not obscene and recognise it doesn’t suit everyone. It’s like The Dress That Borders Sl*t (TDTBS); some women can wear TDTBS and own it like no one’s business because they have an inherent class in the manner they carry themselves. Others wear TDTBS and look like prostitutes. Same goes for PDA.)

.6. I call this Shoosh’s Glamour Shot and Adeebo’s Crazy Eyes Shot. Love it; it’s now hanging in my office.

.7. Night out at some club on Park Avenue because most of the boys in the circle are bankers. (LOOK! I have on eye make-up!!)

Best part of the evening was when one of the guys decided to tell me that what he did for a living was: “Build companies.”

I lost my sh*t and laughed so hard he couldn’t help but laugh with me.

“Build companies?”
My response was: “That’s like telling me you occupy countries. That says nothing to me except about the size of your ego, guy.”
Lucky for me I can deliver a joke and he can take it.
And I never deal where I refuse to play, so the rest of the interaction was light and fun.

.7. Met brother blogger HijabMan for a wonderful breakfast at the unGodly hour of 8.30 am on Sunday (my fault, this!) and was seated on the steps of St. Xavier church when I paparazzo’d (or is it: paparazzi’d, Espy?) him walking toward my NYC home…

He was handing out Sunshine to any one who would take it. Apparently, he had a hard time getting people to accept the Sunshine…but then I came along. And we all know I’m a HoneyPot. And that means I have enough charm to force you to receive the Sunshine. Three more lucky folks accepted the gorgeous flowers.

Before heading to breakfast, we went into St. Xavier to chill with Jesus.

…and this may very well be one of my favourite pics from the whole trip

(Note worthy: No implosion this time, either.)

(More note worthy: HijabMan’s take on our morning basking in Sunshine.)

.8. Breakfast with more Sunshine.

.9. While en route to the Karim Rachid store, I saw this beautiful statue of the map of Palestine and stepped two feet in to ask “how much?” Only then I noticed that there were Hasidic Jewish folk praying in the back room of this Gallery. I’ve never been so frazzled and caught off guard; not even at an Israeli check point where you expect to be treated like shit because you’re a Palestinian…probably because at the check point you’re braced and expecting it.

I turned around and immediately left as I’m certain I wouldn’t have been very welcome (had I enquired about purchasing even a map of what I consider Home).

…and finally… .10. Who doesn’t love finding a Heart on the Street?

This trip to NYC has been among the best.
I feel in love with Shoosh all over again, and I love that I love Adeebo. It’s always so hard if you don’t click with your girls’ men, but Adeeb is an amazing guy and their relationship is a treasure, Alhamdulilah.

(Aside: I forgot my favourite jeans at their place. I am still shocked every time I realize this; these jeans are like a second skin. They’re perfect and I’ve had them for nearly three years. They’re worn and torn and they’ve seen half the world with me…and currently, they are en route to Shoosh’s mom’s and I am awaiting the moment that I will greet and embrace them once again.)

Find the complete series of photos here.