I finally gave in. The perceived need was too strong.
Tired-self cried out, “Please, Shokufeh. I’m so tired. I need some caffeine.”
Rational-self said, “But you don’t want to be one of those people who needs coffee to get going in the morning.”
Tired-self was quick on the comeback. “I know, I know. But remember how tired we were yesterday morning? Staying home all day didn’t seem to change that too much. We still had tons of dreams last night, and woke up tired again this morning. We can’t stay home two days in a row. And we need to get some work done.”
Rational-self attempted to convince tired-self, appealing to vanity and future comfort. “But we already have several blemishes on the forehead. And the monthly visitor is quickly approaching. Caffeine is the last thing we need. How about some water instead?”
Despite its fatigue, tired-self won the battle. So, now I sip my tall non-fat latte with liquid sugar.
I have a stomachache. I don't know why I felt compelled to drink my bubble drink, with fresh papaya(!), so quickly. Nor do I know why I feel compelled to share the aftereffects with you.
That is all for now.
Andrew pointed out these nifty t-shirts. Here's yet another reason I look foward to pregnancy. It will be so much fun portraying myself as some sort of Taken character.
Me: Hey, Pop. Remember the good old days, when I used to walk around the house, flinging my shoes off into the air?
Pop: Yeah.
Me: I was just sitting here reminiscing.
Pop: You don’t do it anymore?
Me: No. I don’t wear slippers in the house here. We just leave all our shoes at the door.
Pop: Maybe you should blog about this.
Me: Maybe.
Pop: Maybe you could start wearing slippers again.
Me: Maybe. (But I don’t think Sam would like the flinging.)
Ever have one of those habits that you really enjoy, but no one else seems to appreciate? And then you try to stop for their sake, but, because it’s a habit, you slip up and annoy them? A few years ago, when I was living with my parents, I took great delight in, while walking through the house, throwing a foot up and flinging my house slipper into the air. Watching it arc across the room, or sometimes into the next room, made me so happy. It did not make my parents or my brother so happy. In fact, it eventually made them quite unhappy. I can’t explain why it pleased me so (the shoe flinging, not their unhappiness), but even now, just thinking about it, puts a smile on my face, a giggle in my gut.
Over time, with practice, I trained myself not to fling my slippers. Not that there weren’t some missteps along the way. I find it amusing that now that I no longer live with him, my father is suggesting I take up the habit again.
Update: I just practiced a little flinging while in the bathroom. I realized that it's not just the arc through the air I appreciate, but the flipping through the air. Watching my shoe rotating across the room brought back the good feelings. The black smudge it left on the wall reminded me of one of the reasons my parents weren't too fond of the activity. Good thing the bathroom walls are tile - the smudge came right off.
My favorite piece of spam yesterday was from:
The added mass
Subject line:
will surely get you some ass
I'm sure opening the piece of mail would ruin the whole thing for me, but right now I like to think of it as something created by the people on Whose Line Is It Anyway? It reminds me of their quick, genius, and sometimes "adult" humor.
At Lacey's request, here's a recipe for the avocado frappe. The recipe I used before is at my parent's home, but I found this one, which sounds the same:
1/4 of a ripe avocado
3/4 cup rice or soy milk
3 tbsp palm or brown sugar
2 tsp fresh lime juice
4-5 ice cubes
Throw it in the blender and delight in your creamy green drink!
Another recipe I liked that summer was a watermelon smoothie. Again, packed, but here's one that sounded similar, though I never used almond extract:
2 cups seeded watermelon chunks
1 cup cracked ice
1/2 cup plain yogurt
1 Tbsp. sugar
1/2 tsp. ground ginger
1/8 tsp. almond extract
Blend.
Very refreshing. And it impresses people. Unless they were tricking me.
My mom was just interviewed for an article about the Freedom Schools set up in Mississippi in the summer of 1964. Sometimes I forget that my mom was part of history in the making, being one of the first Black teenagers in town to try to get a library card. Appropriate that she grew up to run a bookshop and work in a library. This article reminded of some of the reasons I am proud to be my mother's daughter. I don't know if I believe her desciption of herself as a timid child, though.
When I was nine years old, my mom took me to New York for the first time. While there, we went to visit Sandy Adickes, my mom's teacher during Freedom Summer. I am sad to say that, at that age, I was not focused on this woman who came to Mississippi to support the process of integration, and helped shape my mother's future. Instead, the things I remember of that visit are her apartment building, which reminded me of those shown in Free to Be You and Me, and the light switch in her teenage daughter's bedroom. It was the kind that's connected to the outlets, so she could turn on her stereo with the flip of a switch. Very common now, but the ultimate in cool to my 9-year-old self.
Twenty years later, I realize that the coolness was the women in the living room.
Yogurt, Granny Smith apple chunks, and walnuts.
Yummers!
I just bought some cool American Filmmaking stamps at the post office. I was thinking, Oh, I can show these to Sam when I get home. And then, I realized, No, I can't. That will have to wait until next week.
I also bought a fresh avocado bubble drink. It's about 5,000,000 calories. Too bad I'm sitting at my desk and not, say, swimming around the island.
a new baby! No, not mine, my cousin's. A baby boy, born yesterday. Last I heard, he had yet to be named. Besides being good news, it is funny news - his older brother shares his birthday with my brother and Sam's sister, and the new wee one shares his birthday with our anniversary. Fewer dates for everyone to remember.
Today marks our one year and one day anniversary. A year ago today, Sam and I gathered with our families to eat (of course) and to open wedding presents, and to get in some last-minute bonding with those who had to get back to their homes in far-away places. I say that because I like the way it sounds, but don’t go thinking we had guests flying in from Cambodia – we just don’t run in those jetsetter circles. The only foreign country directly represented was Canada. Full disclosure.
It’s hard to believe it’s been a year. In some ways it seems shorter – the experiences and numerous changes we’ve had have made the time pass so quickly. In others it seems longer – the wedding itself seems so far away in time, probably partly due to being so far away in space.
To celebrate our anniversary, we took Friday off, and headed to the waterpark. I know, some of you may be thinking, “Gross! And they’re in public health. Don’t they know any better?” Others of you may be thinking, “Fun!” The fact that we went indicates our thinking is more in line with you in the second group. Tempered with steering our minds away from the things by which we might be disgusted. We thought it would be an appropriate thing to do since we went to a waterpark in the Dells last year, on our way back from Door County, Wisconsin. Door County was supposed to serve as a mini-honeymoon, since we were planning to take a honeymoon to Hawaii later in the year, when we would be happy to get away from the Chicago winter, and weren’t recovering from the stress of the wedding planning. But then we moved here instead.
Saturday involved some beach time, and a nice dinner, accompanied by yummy non-alcoholic citrus mojitos. We then watched Monsoon Wedding, while eating cherry frozen yogurt made in our new ice cream maker. Thanks Mom/Millie Mo Jan and Pop(s)! Time spent in Door County involved lots of cherries, eaten in various forms. This weekend, we had planned to eat cherry pie as well, but there’s only so much space in the tummy.
So yesterday, the anniversary itself – we went to church, said bye to some friends that are leaving town, went to breakfast at our regular place, and went to the airport. Yes, that does say airport, on our anniversary.
Sam was hoping for a blessing at church, since often the mass ends with the priest asking if anyone is celebrating a birthday or anniversary that week. But that didn’t happen yesterday. I was kind of relieved, since I was nervous about going in front of the church and getting blessed by a priest I haven’t personally met. What if later he found out I was a Baha’i, and felt deceived? Or what if he did the special for-Catholics-only blessing? Ultimately though, I was disappointed since it was something Sam wanted.
Midday, we went to the airport, so Sam could fly to L.A. – he’s got a training until the end of next week. A sad day, indeed, when one has to say goodbye to one’s spouse midway through one’s wedding anniversary. But when you live all the way out here, and the training starts Monday morning, the options are limited. On the bright side, we spent a lot of time together at the airport. On the gray side, it was time spent in a freaking-long line. I must recount to you the experience.
We go to the American Airlines counter. There’s no line, so that’s pretty smooth. Sam gets his boarding pass, and the baggage ticket attached to his bag. But we’d forgotten to go through Agriculture, so we ran his bag through that machine and got that sticker, and then dropped the bag off at American. Also quite smooth. And then, we’re ready for him to head to the gate. And that’s when we realize that all the people who seem to be milling about inside and outside are actually in a line, and that line is the line to the gates. So we get at the end of this snake, that we estimated to be 600 to 700 people, though it may have been more. It’s about an hour until his flight is supposed to take off, and I was concerned that there didn’t seem to be anyone coming through, checking for passengers that really needed to get on planes. So, to quell my anxieties, I asked an American representative what would happen since there were at least 500 people between my husband and the security check and his flight. She assured me that someone would come through the line calling for his flight, prior to takeoff. So, I calmed down and waited with him. And waited. About 30 minutes before his scheduled departure, someone comes through calling for his flight, stamps his ticket, and tells him to stand in the special “gold” line. So we move to a line of about 100 people, parallel to the line of 600 people, all waiting to get through security. Yes, this would normally be around the time that they’re calling the middle of the plane, and Sam’s still out in the lobby of the airport. He, being more relaxed than me, was not concerned. And I decided I didn’t need to be concerned, since everyone around us was on his flight, and it would be silly of the plane to take off with so many of its passengers on the ground. I still couldn’t figure out why the line was so slow moving, and I hate inefficiency, so I had to go confirm for myself that there was not some bizarre strip routine going on at the security checkpoint. Or a nap break.
With 15 minutes to go, an American representative comes and takes the 50 or so people from Sam’s flight to another security point. Here, we stand in line again. And then, a Northwestern representative puts a rope in front of our line and slides 40 people ahead of us. At that point, the American representative and the Northwestern representative had a little argument. And I had to check again what was going on at the checkpoint. And confirm in my mind that there was no increase in the threat level. And started to contemplate calling the airport to work with them on their procedures.
Finally, the assurance that everyone had been waiting for – someone came and told us that they were going to hold the plane for the passengers, as long as they didn’t make any detours on the way to the gate. As the guy in front of us sarcastically said, “Yeah, I’m going to stop and get some coffee.” Please!
Sam got to L.A., safe and sound.
Have you seen that episode of Alias where Vaughn shows symptoms of a deadly illness, and Sydney is trying to get the antidote? You know how he's standing at the bathroom sink and notices blood coming from under his fingernails - a key symptom? I had a moment like that in pottery class the other night when I looked down and saw blood seeping from under one of my nails. What caused it I don't know, but I'll wager it wasn't whatever was in the exploding Red Ball. But for a minute, a second, I thought it was.
My favorite bad pick-up line of the moment is:
Baby, did you pass gas?
'Cause you blew me away.
It's a definite contender for all-time favorite, a position currently held by:
Baby, are those space pants?
'Cause your butt is out of this world.
This is the year I turn 30.
This sentence goes through my head several times a day. By several, I mean anywhere from two to 100. Sometimes I spice it up a little, and the sentence is, I'm turning 30 this year.
I don't know why I'm devoting all of 2003 to this thought. It's not something that I've done in previous years of my life. Sure, there was some anticipation of birthdays, especially in the years tied with new privileges -
15... for the age of spiritual maturity and getting my driver's license
18... for being considered an adult and legally being able to do things like getting my ear pierced without taking my mom along
21... for being able to vote in Baha'i elections
But nothing nearing this obsession with my 30th birthday. And what comes with 30? There's nothing I'm presently deprived of that will suddenly be mine in a few months. There's no Tuesday discount at the grocery store for people entering their fourth decade in this world. There's no AAPT - American Association for People in their Thirties - fighting for my interests.
There's also nothing I suddenly lose with turning 30. I've still got a few years before I'm too old to become an FBI agent. And despite my youthful appearance, it's been some years since I was able to buy a kid's ticket at the movie theater.
But even with the lack of sound reasons, I look toward 30 as a turning point. Some days I fear it. Some days I look forward to it. Some days I use it as a rationale - This is the year I turn 30, so I should start using eye cream at night. Some days, it's just a sentence running through my head. But every day, it's there.
I just saw a link saying, Kids: How would you act as a millionaire?
It reminded me of an exchange with my youngest brother when he was around 7 years old. We were discussing driving, and how he would probably be pretty old by the time our parents let him get his license. He informed me that it didn't matter too much - he was going to be rich.
So, I assumed that he was about to bust out with how he was going to have a personal chauffeur. But, instead, he busted out with how he was going to take the bus everywhere.
I guess to him it seemed like a very Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous thing to do.
So, my mom's not coming to visit.
Sorry to keep you on hold for so long, Mrs. Mojgani. I've checked into it, and it looks like the return half of your ticket would best be used as tinder for a campfire. Yes, I know we call it a one-year open ticket, and that you flew here in August of last year. But, as it turns out, the return half can't be used in July or August. So, it's more of a 10-month open ticket. Excuse me, an expired 10-month open ticket.
There is that problem of no one having informed you of that when you bought the ticket, but you'll just have to suck it up and buy another ticket if you'd like to get back to the States.
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Okay, Mrs. Mojgani. Yes, I know you've called our offices 300 times over the past 48 hours, and that people keep giving you different answers. But here's our final offer - take it or leave it. You pay us an extra $100, on top of what you paid for the roundtrip ticket originally, and we'll let you use the ticket. But you may not make any changes to the route, and you have to leave China in a week. Yes, we know you have several hundred dollars in vouchers with our airline, due to our having bumped you last year. Yes, we know there's the possibility we may choose to reroute you at whim. Yes, we know it would be much more convenient for you to fly out of Beijing, but you'll just have to get yourself to Hong Kong since that's where you flew into last summer. I'm sorry, were you under the impression that our goal is to make things convenient for you?
But I'm excited for the rest of my family, since they'll now be reunited a week from tonight.