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Category Archives: Sabbatical

The Girl In Ipanema

This is the happiness Rio de Janeiro has brought to my welted face. BUT FIRST, BEHOLD – Welcome to Rio, friends. This is Mauricio. Born and raised in Miami, who…

The Transition

We went from the above, to the following – And then to this sunset – It was our  last day on the island. We have one night in Salvador, a…

The Adventure Trek

Either we lounged, or we went on an adventure trek from the blue dot to the red dot, a mix of swimming and walking through the jungle. We decided on…

The Flatlands

We spent near five hours walking along the coastline from our beach to the public beaches and this island’s downtown core. Mollusks everywhere. Oil spill in certain areas, a heartbreaking…

The Welcome Back-Rub

  We were complete strangers, and none of them spoke English. The woman on my left kept rubbing my back every little while, and the woman on my right kept…

The 45th

I was built for the tropics. My body feels at home here, and so does my hair. Brazil has given me proper hair envy, however; everyone here has a stunning…

The Historical City

Sleep deprived, and two movies later, I landed in Sao Paolo, where Natty and Brian collected me before we made our way up North to here, Salvador (the city whose…

The Wing-Woman

Whenever I see one of these towers, my mind instantly breaks to Maverick’s flybys. Top Gun is such a favourite, possibly even in second place to John Wick. Feeling much…

The Sickness

My succulents have grown. When I first repotted them, they barely took up any room, and now I am hoping that by next summer, I will need to repot them…

The Vote

This, for me, is one of the sexier photos I’ll post. Though I believe that our electoral system is in need of reform, I exercise this right so that I…

The Pyjamas

There are few people to whose homes I will go in pyjamas; Poppy is one of them. Being the sicko that I am, I was worried I’d have to cancel,…

The Bottega

bottega noun bot·​te·​ga | \ bōˈtāgə, bəˈ-\ : the studio or workshop of a major artist in which other artists may participate in the execution of the projects or commissions…

The Letter Written

Letter writing and postcard sending are still my two preferred means of communication. Since at least a decade, I have only written letters on onionskin paper, because it reminds me…

The Innocence

They wanted to go to the movies, but I made it clear that I wasn’t interested in giving my money to The Joker. Instead, and since we wanted momma to join…

The Dream

We were talking about something, the subject matter he couldn’t recall, only that he walked away from me feeling as though whatever it was that I had said had made…

The Secrets Trading

I took this photo right after I finished playing with some toys. Once again, I am 6 years old promising myself I will buy all of them as soon as…

The Maha Whisperer

I was standing at the phone booth panicked about calling a boy. I looked over and saw her sat at the entrance of Oliver’s, the primary University pub. We had…

The Grades Making

The combination of coffee, books, and writing are a home comfort. They are my soul food. Sitting in a coffee shop is where I recover from most things in my…

The Six

Omar was so excited to get to the CN Tower, that we went there in the weird fuzzy rain that feels as though the clouds are spitting on the city…

The Fall Colours

Few countries match a Canadian autumn in its beauty. Ramrooma’s only wish when coming here was to see all of our colours; though still freshly changing, Ottawa and the Gatineaus…

The Finito

The exams are over. Truth told, I’m not sure why I bothered studying, since nothing I studied (which was all of the prep they say you need to do for…

The Rolling Monday

Tomorrow’s the big day, fam. Please send some prayers up His way for your girl / ask the Universe to hold me together and get me to deliver. I need…

The Hopeful Romantic

It’s rare that this one gets sappy, but once in a while, she will surprise me. Like earlier today, when she sent me a beautiful and hope-filled few words that…

The Clown(s)

My family’s in Montreal until tomorrow, and The Cloud Cave is so quiet without them. Sad emoji. (They sent me this lovely image from the Old Port. I can’t wait…

The Fluffy Whites

This is the best photo I was able to capture of Omar. Like a proper crack-head, he was far too excited(ly) watching the kitchen crew work their magic. At one…

The Gazawi Figs

I am the small potatoe held by my matrilineal grandfather, this photo of us in Occupied Gaza. Please notice how my yellow socks match my yellow top, and how happy…

The Company We Keep

During lunch, I went to one of my favourite bookstores in search of Le Petit Prince in French. Instead, I found this treasure which I have read neither in French…

The Dancing Reflection

She really loves him. So much, that she keeps telling Reem and I to stop talking so that he might do so. Right in the middle of his monologue. Hi…

The 800 Square Feet Of Love

My friends seem to think so. Y’all know about The February Sitch and that momma has been living with me since. They have yet to begin work on her home…

The 2nd Review

The good folks at The Muslim Vibe interviewed me and reviewed rose-water syrup. Read what they had to say over this way. Comments closed.  

The Unadulterated Loathing

Brand new, also in my hood. Isn’t she gorgeous? You know what isn’t so gorgeous? Exams. Any and all manner of exams, in fact. But especially, standardized testing (language exams)….

The Evening Off

“Where’s the baby?”, she asked me. “…she’s…she’s where babies go”, was my very serious answer. An answer to which I was very committed, and which didn’t draw any suspicion in…

The Confession

What I am about to share will strip away any cool possibly left in my image. (That I believe I have cool is a testament to the idiocy within, by…

The Parents

Lovely view, isn’t it? In a week or so, it’ll be bleeding red and gold. These views are among the best in Ottawa, I think; and it’s worth a move,…

The Transient Clown

Though I hardly get to it enough, the Central Experimental Farm is one of my favourite places in Ottawa. I was today years old when I discovered that it is…

The Riddling Cerveau

This gorgeous mural is just down the street from me; every time I walk past, I stop to admire it and wonder if this is in fact a real woman,…

The Psychoactive Drug

This is a frog. I like it because it’s not real. Once, in university, a friend’s boyfriend went out to grab our dinner, and returned with two paper bags. Standing…

The Metaphor

We each have a learning style. Mine, I am exactly equal parts visual, and tactile. (Auditory learning only works sometimes and in very particular situations.) Meaning that first, I learn…

The Full-Arab

These dead leaves are one of my favourite things about the Fall. They line the streets with gold and scarlet; what’s not to love? Staring out at them, I spotted…

The Communication

This is my study nook in Montreal. No one should be surprised that I chose a place with white lights. They play the softest music here and the clientele are…