shokufeh is…home

Dear Shokufeh,

We thought it was a little strange that you stuck us in socks last night, instead of our regular gear of slippahs outside of the office. The anxiety started building as the hours passed and we still didn’t see the light of day, or the moon of night. But then we get a message from your fingers, letting us know that it’s pretty chilly in New Orleans. We can only imagine how cold Chicago’s going to be. So, while we were a little offended at first, we now realize that you’re hiding us out of concern for our health, rather than out of embarassment. Thank you.

See you in 10 days, when we all return to Honolulu!

Love,
Your toes

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I hate it when I’m really tired – so tired that it seems like too much effort to get myself ready for bed. So instead of collapsing in a heap on the floor, I drag out the time betwen me and sleep by watching tv and surfing. (Lest there be any confusion, I’m talking about surfing on the ‘net, not the waves.)
Why am I under the impression that it takes less energy to play Tetris and type, than it would to brush my teeth?

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So did any of you watch Miss Match last night? And did you watch Average Joe when it was on? Okay, so I’m probably the only one here that fits either criteria, much less both. But I’m sitting on the couch, writing Christmas cards and watching tv, when one of the guys from Average Joe shows up on Miss Match. And not just any guy – my and Sam’s favorite: the genius 21-year-old professor with a PhD and a proper British accent and manner. This means that:
- even child prodigies want to use reality television to break into Hollywood, or
- acting has been his lifelong dream and he only went through school at warp speed to please his parents, or
- he was an actor to begin with and the people at Average Joe pulled the wool over our eyes.

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Today, my t-shirt was a source of amusement for several friends, so I thought I’d share it:
<img alt=”FutureHome.jpg” src=”http://lay-c.com/hi/archives/shok/images/FutureHome.jpg” width=”288″ height=”327″ border=”0″ />

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One of the things I like about Hawaii is its diversity of culture. It’s a different diversity from that generally seen on the mainland. Here, there are people from numerous Asian and Pacific countries. All those tiny island countries that, on a map, are just specks in the Pacific, are represented. And people not only maintain their cultural heritage while assimilating, but pick up aspects of other cultures. I think what often happens on the mainland is that each generation becomes a little more bland, a little more “hot dogs and processed cheese.” Here, it seems that heritage is more celebrated.

An example of that is Samoan men wearing their traditional skirts. I love passing the Samoan church near our house and seeing everyone walking around in their finery, hanging out in the adjacent Burger King parking lot – the juxtaposition of these big men wearing traditional skirts while eating fast food. Even on weekdays, I’ll sometimes see tough-looking teenage guys waiting for the bus, wearing skirts.

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One of the nice things about the pottery studio at the YWCA is that it’s a 5-minute walk from my office. The bad thing about the pottery studio at the YWCA is that it’s a 5-minute walk from my office.

Today, I had the idea that I could spend my lunch break doing some speed glazing. I think the pieces will turn out fine, but I was a little hampered in my creativity by:
1) the short time frame in which I had to work
2) the fact that I was wearing my office gear and hadn’t brought any play clothes

I was laughing at myself as I carefully inserted the paint mixer into the big buckets of glaze and then tried to step back as I pressed the ON button. I had some close calls, but managed to get out of the studio with my pink shirt still pink and my black pants still black, and my shoes with just a bit of dust on them. Maybe it’s time I made myself a smock.

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I’m feeling a little under the weather. Yesterday, I sneezed approximately 700 times, and used about 1000 tissues. (Amazing how they all fit in the one Kleenex box on my desk). I didn’t feel that bad, other than the sneezes and runny nose. Since the runny nose continued at work, at pottery, and at home, I decided it wasn’t some allergy thing.

Yes, I was that kid. The one you had in your class every year. The one with the sore-looking nose and the nasty-looking tissue. The one who, last night, out of desparation, blew her nose on her t-shirt. (Don’t worry, she was in the car, on her way home, and she will never lend out that t-shirt.)

The sneezing has subsided. Now the throat feels scratchy. There’s the dull pressure behind my eyeballs. I’m not hungry for anything other than soup.

All I can think about is that I better have energy for surfing on Saturday.

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Throughout my life, my Ameh (Persian word for paternal aunt – in this case, Meisa’s mom) has said, “If you’re really good, I’ll get you this,” when pointing out something ugly or useless.

So, if you’re really good, I’ll get you this.
There’s a reason, they only made 150 of them. I wonder who’s making all these requests to which they refer.

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It’s proud big sister time.
Anis is the featured artist of the month at Soul Tease.

Nice job on the site/company, Samandar, my like-a-brother.

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…even just in writing the below. Good times.

Reading Sharyn’s list of things that make her smile, part two – specifically her friend’s friend’s mishearing of song lyrics – reminded me of my own creative listening. I’m always mishearing things, but it’s usually parts of conversations.
But there is a song that I severely misunderstood for a long time – thinking about my confusion always makes me and my brothers laugh. Hard.

Scene: A few years ago, my brothers and I are in New Orleans, listening to the radio while driving somewhere.
Third Eye Blind’s Never Let You Go comes on the radio. I, however, have never learned that that is its true name.

Me: This song is so sad, but so sweet.
Bros: (Thinking it’s nice enough, but not all that.) Yeh.
Me: You know, that they would write a song in honor of Freddie Prinze, Jr. and his dad.
Bros: ?!?! Shok, what are you talking about?
Me: Well, you know, Chico and the Man. (Singing) I never knew Chico. I never knew Chico. Isn’t it about how Freddie Prinze, Jr. never knew his dad because he committed suicide?
Bros: Um, Shokufeh, the song is “Never Let You Go.”

Hysterical laughing ensues.

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