Thoughts Inspired

Food Inc.

2012-01-23T23:45:00.000-05:00

I've been sick in bed all weekend. It's hit me bad. And I've become addicted to one thing. Well, one and a half.

The show that currently makes me happy, wanting to stay up late and over-dose, is - How I Met Your Mother. It's great - well written, funny, a touch of reality with a dose of over the top, and most of all - with a hint of Friends nostalgia. It's good - watch it.

Then, somewhere in my sea of sickness and HIMYM, I decided to watch Food, Inc. If you haven't heard of it - it's a documentary that takes a really close look at our food industry - where it all comes from, how it's "farmed" and how it's "treated" and touches upon the people who get screwed in the process. It's horrifying.

I'm so not one of those people who watches a movie and has a change of heart but I literally cannot get those images out of my mind. It is disgusting what we are actually eating. It's brought whole new meaning to "grass-fed" and "locally grown". You should watch it, I won't waste your time here by telling you all about it. But bottom line is that we have a choice each day of what we put into our bodies in this one and only life we have.

FB and I are on a break...

2012-01-22T17:52:00.000-05:00

I decided a few weeks ago to take a little bit of a break from my old friend FaceBook. It's for no reason in particular - nothing major happened, no incident pushed me over the edge, a dramatic moment never occurred - I just decided it was time for me to just step away a little. Perhaps too much information and too many moments were being shared with just too many people. So I just need a break.

Tonight I decided to look back on my profile and view some of my albums and it was like a HUGE TRIP DOWN MEMORY LANE.

When I was younger, I used to keep albums. In fact, back in Arizona, there is a room with boxes and at least 3 of those boxes are filled with albums documenting my life. High school, youth retreats, South Carolina, Eritrea, Haifa, family gatherings, times with my grandmother, Ethiopia, the time my grandparents visited America for the first time. All of those things are in there...

Tonight, these albums on FaceBook helped me relive the last few years, the years since FB has entered my life. And it was all there - the good, the bad, and the ugly...all the moments that have made up my life.

And I'm so grateful for that. So grateful that it forces me to remember the sometimes small things that may have slipped. So even though FB and I are on a break, I still owe it for keeping my memories safe and secure, for me to look back on and enjoy.

new years resolutions

2012-01-21T16:07:00.000-05:00

New Years resolutions are funny things. It's the turn of the year, the anticipation of new beginnings and hopefulness in the year to come, that makes us sit, re-evaluate, and makes promises to ourselves. Obviously this is originally rooted in religious traditions and ancient rituals and is now presented to us along with streamers, a song, and a kiss at midnight.

Apparently, research shows that the most popular goals include resolutions to:
- Improve well-being: lose weight, exercise more, eat better, drink less alcohol, quit smoking, stop biting nails
- Improve finances: get out of debt, save money
- Improve career: get a better job
- Improve education: improve grades, get a better education, learn something new (such as a foreign language or music), study often
- Improve self: become more organized, reduce stress, be less grumpy, manage time, be more independent, perhaps watch less television, play less sitting-down video games
- Take a trip
- Volunteer to help others, practice life skills, use civic virtue, give to charity

I don't know about you, but I can mark 3 of those off as resolutions I made this very 2012 year. Unfortunately, though, "A 2007 study by Richard Wisemen from the University of Bristol involving 3,000 people showed that 88% of those who set New Year resolutions fail, despite the fact that 52% of the study's participants were confident of success at the beginning." Yikes! However if you set your goals with a partner, friend, ANYONE who can hold you accountable - you're much better off in achieving them. Interesting, right? So it's not too late - find someone, tell them what you are planning to get done this year, and do it. Be the 12%.

It's almost a necessary thing, these New Years resolutions - to help us either heal from the year that passed or celebrate the joy that came in those 12 months leading up to it. At the end of the day, it's about reflecting, being honest with yourself, and making promises that you can (hopefully) keep.

2012. It'll be a good year. I can feel it.

crap TV and the internets.

2012-01-20T18:04:00.000-05:00

I don't know what it is about plain old cheesy TV that makes me so happy. It's almost like the more ridiculous it is, the better. It runs the gamut from Revenge to The Bachelor (it took me 5 minutes to even come to terms with publicly admitting that information).

But it's just SO good. It is the ridiculousness that makes it amazing. Something about becoming involved in someone else's life for that hour (or 2, respectively) is completely relaxing and totally enjoyable. Then the fear creeps into my mind that I am wasting hours upon hours enjoying nonsense. Is that OK? Is it acceptable? Is it necessary?

The other day I left work at a reasonable hour and actually had the time to cook, go to the gym, do laundry, write, and THEN watch an hour of crap. And, that crap actually felt healthy. But when we are asked to survive and function in a highly stressful, extremely demanding, and utterly exhausting City with work responsibilities that exceed the energy we have, it forces us to find refuge in meaningless and time-sucking things like crap TV and social media overload. It's almost as though the entertainment industry and advances in technology capitalize on our need to zone out and become captive to its influence. We stop doing things that are actually healthy for us because it is easier to just veg out in front of the TV. We stop being creative and breathing and reading and thinking, because our fuses are just burnt. Is it just this City? Is it just our generation? Is it just our Nation? I wonder...

Now I have to go catch up on Gossip Girl.

family means more than...

2012-01-19T21:50:00.000-05:00

I spent 3 years in my 20's doing volunteer work for the Baha'i world community in Haifa, Israel. It was, by far, one of the most meaningful, uplifting, and connected experiences I have had thus far, and I'd like to think I've lived a pretty full life. It was the joy of knowing that everything I did was for the service of humanity and I reaped no physical benefit from it. There is just something so simple and so pure about that.

But one thing I was not expecting but am so incredibly humbled by, is the bonds of friendship that formed during those three years with all sorts of different people from all over the world. I got to know people who not only became my friends, but became my family. Those who, to this very day, would drop everything to help me, to listen, to care, to comfort. I come from a very tight-knit family and I have always relied on my family for most things. If I ever have needed anything, it is my family to whom I turn. But when I was in Haifa, those relationships taught me that I had other people that I could also rely on.

It all came to head one November when I was in the hospital. I had over-exhausted myself and was dehydrated and one thing lead to another and I was all of a sudden on an Israeli hospital bed for 2 nights - the first night I had to sleep in a bed rolled out to the lobby with my head next to the water fountain because there were not enough rooms, but that is a different story entirely. I had no choice but to rely on these people. I had visitors around the clock - stopping by before work, after work, on lunch breaks. People bringing me food, messages from friends, flowers, and so much love. They helped me advocate for my health, and carried my suitcases, and laid their weary heads on my bed, just to keep me company. It was during those 2 days that I realized that I had formed bonds of family with these special people. That the people that crossed my path in those 3 years became more than just friends.

They all know who they are. Now, days and months and years can go by without much speaking, but once re-united, it's as if not a single day has passed. We shared the bond of service. We relied on each other in a foreign land, we learned each others ins and outs, goods and bads, and love each other regardless. It is a bond I feel so extremely grateful for. They are people I will always feel close to, people who will always and forever hold a special place in my heart. I am so thankful for that time in my life - for showing me that family means more than just what connects you by blood.

attempt at poetry. we'll call this 'sick'.

2012-01-19T20:37:00.000-05:00

sick, sick, sick.
pressure in the head, pressure on the eyes.
can barely eat, can barely sleep.

breathing. oh, breathing. something i once took for granted. now SO hard.

water, vitamin C, humidifier, neti pot, advil, tylenol, sudafed - whatever gets you through it.

everything hurts, body aches, ears ring. tired tired tired.

sick, sick, sick.

don't appreciate a minute of good health until it is gone gone gone.

South Carolina

2012-01-18T21:40:00.002-05:00

The year was 1996 and I had decided to take a year off of college to do some volunteer work. After months and months of searching, I ended up in the rural, rural, deep backroads of South Carolina. Hemingway, to be exact. It was green. Really green - with tall trees all around and a humidity that sucked the life out of you. And I had the lightest complexion of anyone for miles and miles.

I worked with the kids in the town. I would tutor them after school. I listened to them tell me stories of getting hit by teachers in school. Outraged. I got distracted by the injustice while trying to focus on fractions. And there was a radio station that I often DJed at - yes, DJ'ed - songs, weather report, and talking - lots of talking. The station manager would call and tell me to stop talking and start playing some songs.

Culturally, it was a huge, enormous shift for me. The language was different, the accents took getting used to, the lifestyle was laid back, the food was fried and delicious, and the people..oh the people - filled everything with melodies and smiles.

I had no idea what to expect when I stepped off that plane and drove those 2 hours inland. I had no concept of the ways that my life would forever be changed. During that year I learned so much about people, so much about myself. During that year that I also decided I wanted to work in the field of Education...before that year I had no idea. It changed me.

The culture is one that has left a mark on my heart. And for some reason as I write this I am reminded of Mr. Pratt - the man who started and worked on the local garden...an experiment in the area - to grow vegetables without any pesticides. He died while I was there and I haven't thought of him for years. Somehow while conjuring up the memories of that year, his smile is recalled. He was one of many who touched my soul. Little Shamar is another one, who - every morning as I made my way to the radio station, would ask: Ms. Sahba - where your baby at?...trying to make sense of the fact that I didn't have any children with me.

It is a time of my life that I don't talk about very often, but one that has had a profound effect on me. I don't even think any of those people know how much their influence shaped my thinking. It is an experience I carry with me to this day and reflect on with gratitude and humility.

first crushes.

2012-01-18T20:36:00.000-05:00

Your first crush is always remembered. Just take a minute and think back...see if you can remember him/her.

Tonight my roommate was asking how young I see kids at school begin to form crushes.
"Kindergarten - I mean some of my Kindergartners had crushes, even though they don't really know what it means..."

And then I remembered him, my first crush. Kindergarten. Brandon Callister.
What a dream. Straight brown messy hair, light brown eyes, freckles across the top of his nose and cheeks.
That was the moment I knew what it meant to "like" someone. Brandon Callister.

Years upon years have passed, obviously, and yet still, I remember clearly that face, that smile, the way his feet didn't touch the floor when he sat at the desk, and that first feeling...that amazing feeling of liking someone for the very first time.

SAD

2012-01-17T19:43:00.000-05:00

I am a girl of the desert. My ancestors came from the deep deep villages of Iran where there was lots of sun and lots of dry weather. I spent the majority of my life in the dry heat of the Arizona desert, with a few sprinkled years in Israel - also desert (although a little more on the humid side due to the lovely Mediterranean.) Wasn't until I moved to New York City that I became privy to the winter - the cold bitter months that start (sometimes) in November and last all the way until (sometimes) April. That's almost 6 months of the year where it is just cold. But the brunt of it usually falls during January and February, spilling into March. For me, I've come to call January 1 to March 21 - the dark time. That's when it's just SAD. Everyone is just SAD.

Wikipedia describes it as: "Seasonal affective disorder (SAD), also known as winter depression, winter blues, summer depression, summer blues, or seasonal depression, is a mood disorder in which people who have normal mental health throughout most of the year experience depressive symptoms in the winter or summer, spring or autumn year after year."

Now whoever is SAD in the summer, when the sun shines, has a few other things to think about, if you ask me. But SAD is real, and SAD creeps up on you when you least expect it. Apparently: "Although experts were initially skeptical, this condition is now recognized as a common disorder, with its prevalence in the U.S. ranging from 1.4 percent in Florida to 9.7 percent in New Hampshire."

I think this proves my point. Winter sucks. Anyone who tries to convince you that "we need it" and that "everything is re-born and given fresh beginnings" is just kidding themselves. I don't buy it. SAD, it's just SAD.

clean air

2012-01-04T22:34:00.000-05:00

When I lived in Haifa it was told to me that there the pollution is the worst it is in the entire world. I don't know if that is necessarily all true, but definitely no more than a slight exaggeration. You could see the muck in the air. Like a dark cloud, it encircled the otherwise beautiful jewel of a Mediterranean town.
Then I came to New York City where I don't even have time to think about the air I'm breathing because there is way too much other stimulus that gets in the way. Laundry up and down the stairs, lines at the store, lines at a restaurant, lines on my forehead.
Then last week I went to Seattle, Washington. Early Monday morning we left the house. The dew was still in the air. He turned to me and said - "smell that."
I took a deep, deep breath. The deepest breath I had taken in years. And it was so clean it almost tasted sweet. The colors around me became even more vivid as my lungs filled with good, old fashioned, clean air.
I've gotta get me more of that good stuff.

adele

2012-01-02T02:18:00.000-05:00

i love driving. i never get to do it in New York City - well, rarely. and when i do, it's a luxury. so when i was to make the drive down from Vancouver to Seattle over winter break, i was a little more than ecstatic.
and i decided Adele would be the perfect companion. and boy was she! i had never heard all her songs - only a few here and there on the radio or re-done on Glee. she is spectacular.
there are only a few CD's that i have been able to enjoy cover to cover. lauryn hill was another good one. it has been a while since an entire CD has awed me.
it was pitch black out, but i knew there were trees around. the road wasn't windy, per se, but nor was it a straight shot. the CD played her, loud and clear. and i sang my heart out. and, i'm not gonna lie, even cried a little. some of those lyrics hit home.
it was perfect.

what i wouldn't do for Taco Bell.

2012-01-02T02:03:00.000-05:00

It's New Years Eve 2011, about to turn into 2012. I am staying at a hotel in Seattle because I have an early flight the next morning out of SeaTac.
Some may think that spending New Years Eve alone in a hotel room in a random city seems sad and depressing. But, to be honest, I was looking forward to it for weeks. I have this thing about hotels. I love the crisp white linen, the fact that I can spread my things all over the place, and the TV straight in front of my bed...I love everything about it. So I was looking forward to relaxing and enjoying the last evening of 2011. My excitement was increased when I saw a Taco Bell (my all time favorite) across the street from the hotel.
Taco Bell, crap TV, and a big fluffy bed? Sounds like a dream come true to me.
I left the hotel lobby to make my way across the street. Just then I noticed a guy, maybe in his mid to late twenties, making his way across the parking lot too. He seemed to be going the same route I was going so for fear of him thinking he had a stalker, I walked a little slower so he wouldn't notice. Sure enough we were headed through the parked cars, across the curb, through the shrubbery and on to the street. I tried to keep my distance, but it was cold out so I had to hustle. We got to the light and I was a few steps behind him, so he was able to run across. I stayed at the light. I watched him approach the Taco Bell and try the door - locked. WHAT?!? I thought, can't be!
I watched him walk around to the other door and then come back, defeated, to the light on the corner.
So it's at this point where I become a little crazy.
"Wait - it's closed? Are you serious?"
I begin yelling across the street as if I KNOW the guy. He, clearly (or intentionally) cannot hear me. I'd like to think it was the 6 lanes of traffic I was screaming over.
"Are you freaking kidding me? How could it not be open?!"
Again, nothing from him.
The light finally turns and I cross the street.
As I get closer to him, I say, "Hey, is it closed or something? Are you serious?"
He nods, says it is closed, and crosses the street the other way.
I go to the door and see the sign that says it should be open for another 45 minutes. I jiggle the door and the lady behind the counter looks up and tells me it is closed. I do something, who knows what, but something that encourages he to come to the door. I have a feeling she knew I wasn't going to let this go. I wanted Taco Bell tonight and I was going to get Taco Bell.
She comes to the door and tells me that only the drive thru is open right now.
"Is there any way I can just walk through? I just returned my car. I am so sad. All I wanted was Taco Bell. I only want 3 small things. Can I walk through?"
My mouth is running and I am WELL aware of how crazy I sound but I can't seem to stop the words. She is looking at me in half shock/half pity.
"OK - come in, quick, and order."
Yeeesssss!!!!
I run in after her and place my order in such a rush that I forget to order a drink. Hmmm..."Can I just get a cup for water, Ma'am?"
I pay, get my food, get my small clear plastic cup for water, and head to the fountain drinks, fill up that cup with diet soda (I don't know what got into me, I mean really? I wasn't thinking straight!) and turn towards the door.
Blocking the food and stolen soft drink with my body, I make a run for the door. "Thank you, thank you!" I yell, as I open the door and make my escape.
Except - there he is. The guy I was "stalking" earlier.
I look down to avoid eye contact, afraid of the look he will give me knowing I not only was just an enormous brat for getting myself into Taco Bell and getting food, but also that I was walking out with a cup clearly made for water but filled with soda.
Thankfully right then, the light turned and he started walking. I, of course, followed. Same path back, through the shrubs, over the curb, across the parking lot and into the hotel lobby. I tried slowing way way down, but was still pretty close behind him.
I waited a few minutes before going into the lobby to give him time to disappear. I went in and turned left - there he was. Ugh! Behind him again!
He walked straight, I followed. He turned left, I followed. He turned right onto the 6th wing, and, again - I followed. Down, down, down the l-o-n-g corridor, I was right behind him, the smell of Taco Bell in the halls and the slushing of my soda echoing up and down the hallway. Finally, he got to his room - ONE DOOR AWAY FROM MINE. He looked up at me, quickly looked down again, unlocked his room door, and disappeared.
I let out a deep breath, walked into my room, and fell into fits of laughter at the image of how incredibly creepy I just looked for the last 20 minutes.
Then I enjoyed my Taco Bell, sat on my fluffy bed, and rang in the new year.

Seattle and Vancouver

2011-12-31T13:33:00.000-05:00

I didn't know how much I'd enjoy Seattle and Vancouver. To be honest, this was kind of a random trip - a trip inspired from a friend whilst sitting on a bench one evening in Brooklyn. He told me stories of his year and somewhere in that story he mentioned Seattle.

Hmmm, Seattle huh? Maybe I'll go there. And then I realized how CLOSE Seattle is to Vancouver and then before I knew it I had a ticket in hand and a car reserved. BUT I wasn't at all sure what to expect. I knew I'd see good people - people I love - but didn't know how much I would actually enjoy the places.

It also helps tremendously that all the people that live in these places are excited by and love where they live. Everyone I met and talked to in both locations spoke about their city in the same way I speak of Brooklyn. It made it more attractive. People are happy living here. The mountains, the air, the trees, the bridges, the water....it has the best of all worlds.

I became a fan of Seattle and Vancouver on this trip. And, never thought I'd say this, but can actually imagine living in this area. Don't know when and don't know IF, but it's been the one place so far, that I can actually imagine myself in. Somewhere down the line. Sometime when Brooklyn is done with me.

new things.

2011-12-27T06:18:00.001-05:00

sometimes it is the most unexpected things that fill you with joy and allow you to experience things you didn't think you wanted to or needed to experience. a new place, new people, new surroundings. you don't realize how bogged down you can get with the mundane-ness (if that's even a word) of your every day. and suddenly a small little something, a tiny little moment can become all you ever needed.
getting out of your norm allows you a perspective that you otherwise may not feel, see, or understand. it allows you to appreciate other parts of yourself that you yourself may be taking for granted and it lets you hear and see things that you don't normally hear and see.
it's good. it opens you up.
it's that opening up that allows us to stay young and to remain curious. always wanting to know more. to do more. to grow.

its been a year.

2011-12-19T21:04:00.001-05:00

Last year at this time, my grandmother passed away. This year, my mind keeps flashing back to moments that occurred last year, as if trying to recreate the memories and make them fresh for me.
The moment the call came, my sisters broken voice on the other end of the phone.
Scrambling around my apartment, not certain what to do first. Airline, suitcase, work emails, work calls, rental car, ride to the airport, packing, crying, packing, crying.
The plane ride home. Long.
Touched ground in Tucson and so many voicemails sending their condolences. Drive home.
Silence. Hugged my sister, cried. Empty in the house. Empty in the room where she was.
And then the whirlwind of planning. Meeting with the funeral home, visiting the cemetery grounds, family calling, family emails, planning the program. Everyone arriving. The house full full full of people. Running errands, making sure we have everything. No time to process.
The night before we went to the funeral home for the wrapping of the body, I laid down on the couch to sleep. Every room in the house was filled with people. I was out in the living room. I closed my eyes and then saw her, the image of her, so clear in my mind. Lying on her bed, holding my hand, giving me advice. And that moment I lost it. It was the first time I had truly cried in mourning.
The days that followed were filled with visits and eating and organizing and lots of stories and lots of prayers. We prayed together - chanted in Persian and in English. We watched so many videos of her and laughed together and cried together.
All those memories just fill my head now. It's been a year her soul took flight. It's been a year I haven't held her soft wrinkled hands and told her I loved her. It's been a year she has been gone.
And today I miss her so much. My heart aches.

oh for the love of Amtrak.

2011-12-18T17:29:00.000-05:00

today i was to travel from DC to NYC. an easy trip. i sometimes drive, and a lot of times i take the bus. the first time i ever made a trip to DC i took the china town bus. it was 7 years ago and i had just moved to the City and ever so desperately wanted to travel down to DC for the weekend to visit my family.
i got to 88 broadway, where the bus was supposed to load, and it felt literally as if i had walked into china and was about to travel by bus in a foreign country. i remember to this day being squished between the loads of passengers packed onto the bus and being thrilled that this entire trip cost me nothing more than $18.

since then, other buses making that route have begun to take over and so bolt bus, equipped with wifi and outlets has made its way to being my mode of transportation. it's a fine ride. does the trick. but. for some reason, today, when i got to union station to try and catch the 5pm bus to NYC (which, incidentally would not have gotten me into the city before 9:45pm, i SOMEHOW ended up at the amtrak counter asking about trains.

"there is a 4:20 leaving straight to NYC." (i looked down at my phone. 4:16.)
"and, how long does it take?"
"you'll be in NYC by 7:30." (dream come true)
my heart started to race.
"is there wifi?"
"yes ma'am."
"outlets?"
"uh huh." getting clearly annoyed.
"is there a bathroom?" she looks straight up at me and laughs.
"ma'am, what do you think this is? of course there is a bathroom!"
not effected in the slightest by her mockery.
"you don't have like a discount or anything? like. you know, i'm a teacher. no?"
i knew the answer before she even looked up at me from behind her glasses.
"will i even make the 4:20?"
"you will if you stop asking me questions."
NOT even stopping to THINK about this (expensive) decision.
"OK! let's do it!"

4 minutes later i'm in a very fancy and very comfortable train. making my way to the City. 2 hours earlier than expected.

good ol Whitney.

2011-12-16T18:01:00.000-05:00

You know how smells can you remind you of a place or a time? Like for me Herbal Essences shampoo will always remind me of the year I lived in a trailer in South Carolina. When I smell that I am 18 again and the rural South is my home. I remember everything from that time when Herbal Essences hits the nostrils.

Songs will often have the same impact. I was lying in bed last night and the music from the street was particularly loud. It's usually pretty bad, but tonight it was as if someone had turned the radio on right in my room. I was ABOUT to get annoyed until I head the song. I Will Always Love You - by Whitney Houston. And I was immediately transported to 19. Just dropped my boyfriend at the time off at the airport. I had woken up at 4am to drive him. He had come to visit me for a week and we argued and laughed and cried, and then argued some more, the whole time, as was indicative of our relationship. And we were pretty quiet the whole way to the airport. I parked the car and walked him to his gate - you could do that then. We hugged. And when we did, we both knew this would not last and not go anywhere.
I got back in the car, heaving crying, and played Whitney Houston's I Will Always Love You, for the whole hour ride home. Each time it played, I sang louder and cried harder. Each time the dramatic pause arrived and then she HIT that note, I swear my voice started sounding more like hers.

Last night that song reminded me of everything I loved about him and all the reasons I'm thankful we said goodbye.

smoke in the living room.

2011-12-16T00:17:00.000-05:00

I'm writing this here because, quite frankly, I have no where else to write it. My house reeks of smoke. Cigarette smoke that is, and there is nothing I can do about it, or so it seems. My roommate and I do not smoke, but someone, somewhere, in the building, does. We have no idea where it is coming from, but have deciphered that it is making its way through our vents.
Management has been contacted more than once. No answers have been given. Actually, no reply indicating that it is even being worked on, has been given.
I'd like to think that I am a relatively patient person, but on this issue, my patience is running low low low. I am not sure what the solution really is, but it just seems SO unfair to begin coughing in your own home and having your clothes smell like cigarettes, when you are not the one smoking. It seems that headaches that come from the smell of smoke and not being able to invite friends over who are allergic to smoke, is not really fair if you are paying rent for a place?
Maybe not. Maybe I'm being too picky about all this.
Literally had no where else to vent.

photography.

2011-12-08T22:44:00.000-05:00

i have this other blog that i started that is called: iPhotographer. it's a blog that contains ONLY photos that i take with my iPhone. i found myself talking loads of photos with my iPhone and having no place to "dump" them. facebook didn't feel like the right venue so www.sahbarohani.tumblr.com seemed to fit the bill.

i've always had a love for photography. it's always been something i enjoy. but i have never had a real camera. well, that's not true. i once bought one from a stoop sale in Brooklyn for $90 but it wasn't digital. which had its charm but since it took so long to see the prints, it just lost it's luster.

so today. today in the mail, i got a real camera. it was a birthday gift from my family. and i am so super excited to actually try it out. the battery is charging as we speak. and i can't wait for it to finish so i can begin playing. here is to giving time to small pleasures.

feeling kinda off.

2011-12-08T22:36:00.000-05:00

i like to think of myself as a glass half full kind of person. i look at a situation and MOST of the time, i can see the good in it or try and see it from a different perspective. most of the time, things don't feel like a big deal - they are what they are and i handle them.

and then. and THEN there are those days where everything just kinda feels off. you look at things and don't see the good side to it. you feel just exhausted and burnt and kinda all alone. you spiral into "deep" thinking that might not even be all that good for you. and probably isn't really deep thinking anyway. a total funk.
hate feeling like that.

it comes in small spurts. but when it comes, it just exhausts me.

remembering my grandmother

2011-11-29T11:43:00.000-05:00

A year ago on Thanksgiving I saw my grandmother for the last time. I came to visit with my father, who was in the country for a few weeks, and we went to stay with my sister and brother-in-law, where my grandmother resided in her final days.

I remember her being so extremely weak and tired during this last visit. It took her even longer to eat her meals and to move around with her walker. She had lost so much weight. Her eyes, which usually shone with a spark of light, looked tired and worn out. She only seemed to really smile when she saw my niece, then only 3 months old. She would look at her and chuckle and clap for her. And my niece would just stare and smile - like we used to do when we were younger.

This Thanksgiving I went to visit my grandmothers resting place. I remembered our last time together, but I also remembered all the times before that. When she was healthy and laughing and taking such good care of me. I remember the tiny Persian sandwiches of feta cheese and pita bread she'd make for me and the stories she would sit by my bed at night and tell. I remembered the food she made and the hugs she gave. And how every time I left home for a trip she asked that God take care of me and make me happy and healthy (then she'd slip me a $20). She was full of love, full of kindness, and full of faith. I love everything about her and miss her every single day. It was nice to spend some time remembering her on Sunday. With the sun shining down and the desert landscape stretching on for miles.

It was so nice to have just those few moments of quiet with her.

Thanksgiving.

2011-11-25T19:25:00.000-05:00

Traveling on Thanksgiving weekend is often times a nightmare. Everyone is rushing to the airport, the lines at security are so long, everyone is nervous about getting to the right place at the right time. It's often so stressful. It makes you forget what you are actually supposed to be celebrating - thankfulness.
But I think I figured out the trick. You might think this is a terrible idea, but really, it's brilliant. Leaving Thursday morning, instead of any time Wednesday, changes your life. There is virtually no line at the airport, smooth sailing all through security. And everyone is so super friendly. Everyone wishes a happy Thanksgiving to everyone else and people are relaxed.
And you get to sleep. You basically sleep all of Thanksgiving morning as you are transported to your family.
Then you step off the plane, JUST in time for Thanksgiving dinner. You walk into the house and there is turkey and cranberry sauce and mac&cheese and mashed potatoes.
Then later, there is pumpkin pie. It's a perfect dream.
Sleep all day and arrive to a delicious meal.
My second favorite holiday. And this just makes it even better.

that movie...

2011-11-19T10:19:00.000-05:00

Your know those movies set in New York City where the girl is waiting for a cab, her arm stuck straight into the air for what seems like hours, and then finally that yellow dream pulls up, ready to take her?

You know what I'm talking about right?
And then you know the part where a guy in a suit intercepts, opens the door of the cab, and jumps in, before the girls even realizes what just happened?
And you think - jeez, what a #&*()@#@^&*, can't believe someone would do that.
Well, it happened. For real. In the West Village last night. To this girl/me.

The movies actually ARE based on reality.

Facebook: Society and Identity

2011-11-15T09:22:00.000-05:00

Eleanor sat at her desk, her nose just inches away from the screen, her fingers clicking quickly as she cropped and adjusted the light and gradient of the photograph in front of her. Finally! Perfect.

She sat back to admire her handiwork. The couple staring back at her looked so happy. Their smiles were wide and their faces were animated. The truth is, she and Richard hadn’t laughed together like that in months. Ever since the miscarriage, they hardly even made eye contact. But that night, the night this photograph was taken, they were at the wedding of a close friend and the best-mans speech was funny. They had both laughed and at the same exact moment that someone at the table had snapped a shot.

Eleanor took a deep breath and let the reality of her and Richards situation fade away as the image on the screen sprung to life. She logged on to Facebook and navigated her profile to the photo uploading section. She clicked a few more times and then the blue bar popped onto the screen, showing that the photo was indeed making its way to the Internet.

98%, 99%, 100%. Done!

She picked up her cup of coffee and headed for the kitchen. The smell was strong and filled her with a caffeine fix before the rich brown liquid had even been poured into her cup. She filled it to the rim, tightened up her bathrobe and headed to the refrigerator to make some breakfast. Eleanor took out the ingredients for omelets. He’ll probably leave without wanting any breakfast, she thought. She slowly put all the ingredients back in and pulled out the carton of milk. She began pouring her cereal when she heard his footsteps coming down the hall. His cologne reached her before he did. “Morning,” he whispered, as he passed behind her to the cupboard with the mugs. She felt like she was in the waiting room at the doctor’s office, knowing there were people around her but not wanting to look up. The silence was deafening. Her spoon scraped the sides of the ceramic bowl and filled the kitchen with echoes. She searched her mind for something to say, wanting to break the uncomfortable feeling that was creeping into her body.

“The Thompsons called about dinner on Saturday. Should I tell them we are going?” Eleanor finally broke the silence.

“Sure,” Richard replied, barely looking up from his paper.

“Alright, I’ll call Jayne back today. I always love dinner at their place. The desserts she makes are so good. Remember last time? That was delicious. I loved every bite. I mean, obviously I did, I tried to recreate it myself. Ugh, remember what the kitchen looked like after that – I mean, what a mess…”

“Uh-huh”.

Richard’s semi-response cut her off. She could barely see his face. He was hidden behind the New York Times and it didn’t look like he was coming out any time soon.

Eleanor finished her cereal, put the bowl in the dishwasher and headed out of the kitchen and back into her office.

“Bye.” She barely heard Richard before the door slammed behind him.

“Bye,” she said, to the empty room. She sat at her mahogany desk and swiveled around in her chair just in time to see the car pull out of the driveway. She turned back around and faced her computer. Her elbow hit the desk and the screen came back to life. There they were – laughing. She scrolled down:

OMG you guys are too cute!

I love this! You are still the perfect couple.

I can just feel the love – still look like you did the day you got married!

Thanks for showing us how it’s really done, El!

This is the best picture of you guys, you look so happy! Miss you…

She felt the sadness lifting. At least somewhere they were happy. At least frozen on the screen, with all their friends watching, they were still the happy couple she knew and loved. At least somewhere.

what season is it any way?

2011-11-09T01:24:00.000-05:00

the weather has been so crazy this season. on the last weekend in October, we had a snow storm - a full fledged enormous stow storm. so much so that many families in Connecticut still do not have their power back on from it.
and then today, today it was just sunny. it felt like the first day of Spring even though it is mid-November.
what is going on?

i am not complaining. i love all the good weather, but it just seems so strange.
i stood in the park today surrounded with trees of glorious colors - reds, yellows, browns, oranges - and i took in deep, deep breaths. i told myself to remember this moment of peace and freedom. this moment of standing in the park with my short sleeved shirt, i told myself to make a memory of, so that i could access it as soon as the weather begins turning a bitter cold not just for a day but for a couple of months that feel like eternity.

i hope that mental picture stays in my mind until at least mid-March.