A Sorta Fairytale

Happy Birthday, Blog

Mon, 23 Nov 2009 10:00:00 +0000

I realized that about a week or so ago, I hit the one year mark on this blog.

This is a HUGE deal!

Writing and I have had a love-hate relationship for most of my life and it is just recently that I have come to realize how much I actually DO love writing, and more importantly, how much sharing this writing is not as terrifying as I originally imagined.

Last year, when I decided to start keeping a blog it was in part because I found that many people were curious about what I was doing with my life in London and that repeating the story dozens of times got tiring and old. It was also partly because I realized I have a lot to say. And finally, and most importantly, I did it because it was something I was really, truly scared of doing. Vulnerability is not an easy look for me to pull off. At all. (I like that everyone thinks I’m perfect all the time. Just kidding…!)

My newest way of living life to the fullest is by seeking out the things in life that make me the most uncomfortable and going at it like a champ. It’s based off of my silly childhood notion that if you get hurt, you keep pressing on the boo-boo until all the pain goes away - as if there is a certain amount of pain allocated to every wound and the sooner you get it over with, the sooner you’re not in pain anymore.

So I was a dumb kid. Don’t hate.

I’m a bit smarter as an adult, and I’m finding that applying this policy to my fears makes for a much more fruitful existence (although I’m not sure it is any less painful…).

Anyway, with a lot of support and encouragement, my good friend SV convinced me to get started on my very own blog. At first I didn’t tell anyone but then slowly, slowly, I gained confidence and the fear and embarrassment (I’m not exaggerating, btw) began to lessen, allowing me to share. One by one, I started telling my friends and then posting it on domains where possibly several people would have access to it.

Eventually, I even allowed comments - another disproportionately huge milestone. (Seriously, how can such trivial things make a person feel so at risk? I mean, it’s not like I’m going to die.)

Did you know that for the longest time I couldn’t even refer to this blog as a “blog”? I had to use other euphemisms such as “post” or “write” or “piece” or “thought.” I’m not even joking.

We’ve come a long way, baby.

And in the process, I have come to really enjoy posting. I find that my daily experiences are much more enriching because I have a forum to come back to and really analyze and deconstruct what happens around me. There is so much going on around us all the time - and I know in my life, I’ll notice a “moment,” catalogue it for thinking about later, and then just not get around to it…because let’s face it, who sets aside time to “think” about random life moments? We only engage with these extraordinary insights if we’re in conversation or writing. So thanks to this spot right here I grew a lot from thinking about the blind man on the street, the weird mime performance, dance classes, and Wall-E.

I also realized that I’m not the only one who thinks like me or who finds insight in or excuses to rant about random things like carrots and boxes.

And finally, I realized that with the encouragement and support of others - readers, writers, listeners, sounding boards, mirrors - I can overcome even my deepest, most intense fears.

Thank you :)

"You're So Brave!"

Thu, 19 Nov 2009 10:00:00 +0000

…Says my former student as we march to the front section of the prayer hall, half way through ceremonies.

Just picture it - it’s bad enough having to walk through the outer hallway which is lined with people who don’t want to enter the internal prayer space once the ceremonies have started. But then, once you get inside and sit your late butt down at the back corner where you start to relax and think the worst is over - a volunteer line marshall comes to you and says “Um, I need you guys to go sit up there - we need to keep this back space open.”

Great. You know where “up there” is? All the way at the front front of the prayer hall - meaning you gotta parade past the entire congregation to get to the glaringly empty spot made just for tardy fools like you. It’s awesome because now that everyone sees you, afterwards they can all come up to you and ask why you can’t make it to prayers on time.

Anyway, so I sit down and I see my former student sitting next to me. I give an excited smile, turn back to myself and try to focus. And then, two seconds later, “the prod.”

I turn to my former student and say, “Ready?” And then I get up, throw my shoulders back, and walk to my seat like I’m walking down Euston Road on any normal day. I’m not hunched over, I’m not scurrying like a rat (despite the last post…), I’m walking like a normal human being, one foot in front of the other at a slightly more accelerated pace. It is what it is, you know?

And that’s when my student turned to me and said, “Wow you’re so brave!”

No babycakes, I’m just am what I am - confident and unapologetic.

And see - that’s the thing. You gotta be confident about it. I think we’ve all heard the general rule that confidence is sexy but man, it’s moments like the one today that make me realize how important confidence is. It’s better than makeup, corsets, and high heels when you’re trying to pass for something you’re not. It’s the best trick out there and it works every time, whatever form it comes in - whether it’s throwing your shoulders back and walking with your head up or simply just admitting that you’re wrong and taking it like a (wo)man.

Of course I didn’t want to take the walk of lame in front of my peers and some really eligible guys, but if I’m going to then I at least gotta look like I got this, right?

I felt that last night too when I was practicing for my spoken word gig: there were times when I’d start the piece and realize that I didn’t want to finish it because I didn’t start out right. But what if that happened during the actual performance? Would I fumble about and apologize and get all red and embarrassed? Or do I just forge ahead and make the second half so spectacular that nobody’d remember the trip up in the first place?

Exactly. 1.) You always have options. 2.) Don’t apologize unless you’re wrong or you hurt someone. 3.) Walk with your head at a normal level and pay attention to your posture. You deserve to be here just like everyone else. 4.) Humility appears in how you speak to and treat others, not in how successful you are a making yourself disappear. That’s Houdini, not Humility.

And most importantly…

5.) Confidence is everything.

Thanks for the reminder, Student.

Lab Rat

Mon, 16 Nov 2009 23:49:00 +0000

In Chem labs, rats are made to run around and carry out the experiments of many a mad scientist. The one that I remember laughing about the most was when you put a lab rat in a box, put some cheese on the other side and attach a little electric shocker to it. The rat smells the cheese, runs to it, tries to eat it and then… ZAP! It gets shocked with the little buzzer.

And then, 5 seconds later when the pain subsides, it smells some cheese, runs to it, tries to eat it and then…ZAP! It gets shocked with the little buzzer.

And then, 5 seconds later when the pain subsides, it smells some cheese….

Today, that lab rat was me.

I don’t know when I will learn my lesson. I don’t know when I will stop forgetting what the little painful electric shock buzzer thing feels like and I don’t know how many times it will take for me to realize that the (C)heese is not meant to be eaten!!!!!!!

One Bachelors degree, nearly 2 Masters degrees and 25 years under my belt and what do I have to show for it? Short-term memory, a low tolerance for pain, and an extremely high capacity for repeated stupidity. Just like a GD lab rat.

Information Brat

Wed, 04 Nov 2009 17:59:43 +0000

My lesson planning group just finished brainstorming for this Saturday’s class which centers around nature, God’s creation, and the limitations of human capability. It’s quite poignant, really. We’re tossing around all these ideas, trying to bring in creative, multimedia options when all of a sudden I remember this awesome, awesome video about the earth - it zooms in and out and shows the vastness of the universe and the tiniest part of a cell.

I want to find this video while I’m still running on the excitement of lesson planning (nerdy, I know) and I don’t want to put it off because I’ll either forget or I’ll lose steam. Basically, I want to find this video, and I want to find it NOW!

I could just write this post and reflect on how wonderful it is to even have access to these types of information and resources. I mean, even ten years ago this would be something that I would probably have never seen, and certainly something I couldn’t show my students. In fact, I wonder if the material would even be there. Does the fact that there is a platform for displaying information create more information? I bet a ton of these videos and blogs that crack me up on a daily basis would not even have been conceived if not for the fact that they would be heard or seen.

But alas, this blog is not about how wonderful the Internet and the Knowledge Society is. Here’s where it gets bratty.

Actually now I feel bad writing about how annoyed I was a few minutes ago when I was trying to find this video. This is the issue with the internet and the vast VAST amounts of information that have been generated and are made available on this platform. At least ten years ago, when I needed resources I knew that my local library was the limit. And I’m creative - I can work with what I have. It’s when the sky’s the limit that I start to panic. I vaguely remember that this video was about the earth, it involved degrees of ten, and had molecules and galaxies. So how do I search and find this?? I typed in those words and a few synonyms and was near giving up after not finding it. What the hell, internet!! Gimmie my video!!!

Eventually, it popped up, but for the moments that it took me to locate it I was perplexed, frustrated, and annoyed. Having so much information at your fingertips is not always a good thing. After all, isn’t that the premise behind lamenting on “The Good ‘Ol Days”?

That plus I’m a brat.

The "List"

Mon, 26 Oct 2009 03:32:22 +0000

I am loving home!

I am also realizing, as much as I love home - be it Chicago or the U.S. in general, I am really, truly going to sorely miss London when I leave. I’m going to miss the crazy flavored crisps/chips, the fact that sweetcorn is added to everything, and the absolutely insane abundance of all things Indian. I’ve really come to love London and all its quirky bits and I must say, between ditching freshman-status and really getting to know some of the families in the London Ismaili community, this place is really starting to feel like an additional home.

Alas, transition is inevitable - London will soon enough be my past. In subconscious preparation for such dreadful times I have begun to notice several things exclusive to North America that I hope will take the edge off of the transition ahead. Here is the list (so far):

1. Cap’n Crunch Peanut Butter cereal.

2. Cinammon Toast Crunch Cereal.

3. Kashi GoLean Cereal.

4. Any kind of cereal, really. I love breakfast. Maple syrup also helps.

5. A comprehensive place where I can buy everything I need for the rest of my life (Wal-mart).

6. Number 5 but with more options and better quality (the Mall).

7. Lots and lots of movies and t.v.

8. Libraries where you can actually check out books that are not directly related to your field of study and/or anything fiction.

9. Taco Bell.

10. Mexican food in general…

11. Sunshine.

12. Physical space…walk-in closets…a shower where all of my limbs fit at the same time…

13. The Daily Show.

14. MTV, TLC, and the Disney Channel (shut up).

15. 6am-3am store opening hours.

16. 24-hour joints.

17. Musicians and the music scene.

18. Flaming hot cheetoes!!

19. Prepositions (I’m going TO school).

20. Less U’s (color).

21. Generally, words without excess lettes (Lester instead of Leicester).

22. Let’s hear it for New York…and Chicago…

This list could go on forever. There’s something about American pride - it just swells in my chest…

Operation Matter Over Mind?...!

Mon, 19 Oct 2009 23:41:00 +0100

If there is one thing I have come to realize about myself over the years it is that I am an unbelievably strong individual. Did you know that my legs can bench over 70 pounds?

Just kidding.

While I haven’t faced any major life-altering or tragic events (thank God), I have felt the struggle of my heart, mind, body, and soul in a number of ways over the years. Each time, I bear the burden: I let the feelings ruminate for a bit, my body takes it out on me in its usual ways (I stare at walls and sleep like crazy), and then I get over it - usually within a very reasonable amount of time. And each time, when my smile regains its usual luster, I find myself so thankful that I have strength to draw on. KB and I have had plenty of conversations around the idea that everyone faces trials in their life - some are small and some are huge - but we all deal with them differently. Some people never get over the smallest things and other people would never let on what they’ve been through.

We decided that it’s mostly a matter of attitude and perspective. If you are lucky enough to have been given a little perspective, either by the voice inside your head or a tough-love friend on the outside, you’re gonna be justttttt fine. And, if you have the right attitude and realize there are better ways to spend your time than moping about, you’ll be back on that horse in no time.

Unfortunately, I’m learning it isn’t always so clear cut. Sometimes it isn’t about moping in sadness - it’s about losing yourself in imaginations. When I don’t get over something I’m not crying about not having it, I’m too busy going on with my life as if I got it anyway…life in my head that is.

Do you know that it took me almost twice as long to get through my readings this weekend because I was too busy drifting off into Zahra-Zahra land? Right. No more of that.

So I have a new challenge for myself (if you want to join in, please knock yourself out…I could use the company) - I’m going to actually, physically focus on living outside of my head. For the next…week?…(is that too ambitious?)…I’m going to strictly forbid wall-staring, window-gazing, daydreaming of any kind. Every time an unsanctioned thought enters my head, I’m going to “catch it, bin it, kill it” (Swine Flu ads in London…).

Seriously though - I am going to see if I really can exercise some self-control and focus on what’s real and important now. Is this a good idea? Part of me is arguing for the positive-thinking/if you dream it’s possible outlook. Why settle for what I can’t have when I can start making moves to get what I want?

But the other part of me is tired of living in a cloud and only prolonging an inevitable realization that even I can’t always get what I want. Is it really better to live in reality? I guess I’m about to find out…

25 y.o. Suffers from Age Regression; Suspected Cause: Boredom

Wed, 14 Oct 2009 15:02:00 +0100

I’m sitting next to AM, my 28-year old classmate, and I am scratching and smacking him as we sit in our Wednesday class trying not to

He just pinched my leg! And now he’s telling me about how his jeans are too tight and I’m trying REALLY hard not to laugh or scream.

We’re trying not to die of boredom. It’s sort of working.

Despite the fact that we’re both well past the age of 6, neither of us cares to adhere to the rules of adult decorum. My tolerance levels are just not high enough to handle a hot, stuffy classroom full of some monotone droning coming from somewhere near the front of the room.

I think it’s funny and ironic that as a future teacher, I am quite possibly one of the worst students ever. Seriously. I would hate to have myself in class. How annoying!! :)

I also find it a tiny bit tickling that AM is now lecturing me about how “you don’t listen, you don’t pay attention, you don’t…” All this while he flits screens between Gmail and “Chess Titans.” Right.

But my favorite part of class? One of the T.A.s sitting in the back of the class is trying to figure out when to schedule his next manicure and the other two are straight passed out in their seats…is that a dribble of drool I see? LOL.

I can only hope that my terrible bouts of acting out will help me be more empathetic to my future students.

Or maybe it will just remind me to be INTERESTING so that they don’t resort to such desperate measures in order to stave off death by boredom…

Painting a Picture

Tue, 13 Oct 2009 23:23:00 +0100

Quite a few months ago I saw a woman on the tube. She wasn’t young.

She looked a little mousy - super thin, hunched over, and a little worse for the wear. What stuck out about her, and the reason I remember her and why she got me thinking in the first place, is that she had long, bright pink hair and some super chunky boots.

It was totally uncharacteristic according to the impression I had made of her based on the rest of her appearance. How does that work? Logistically speaking, she would have had to make her way to the hairdressers - or maybe to the local beauty shop - sat in a chair, and dyed her hair pink.

I mean, it’s a process. It doesn’t just happen. Which means that she must have put thought into it. Her long, bright pink hair was a conscious choice which leads me to think this choice was probably one part of a longer thought process about how this woman wanted to present herself.

This is so baffling to me.

After I saw this woman, I started paying more attention to other people as well. Those men with the dozen piercings and killer mowhawks, the women with the striped black-and-hot-pink socks matched with clown/dominatrix boots and yellow mini-skirts - all of it. All of these people got up in the morning and put time and effort into their appearance, no matter how much they wanted to give off the impression that they’re too cool to be into fashion. Even grunge was thoughtful choice. You can consciously choose to not shower as much as you choose TO shower.

It might sound kind of obvious to you, but it was a bit of a revelation to me…Apparently, I am not the only one that stares into her closet in the morning.

All of us who dress ourselves, whether it’s in Gothic/Camden chic, high fashion, or hoodies and jeans, make a choice about what we put on our bodies and thus, what image we present to others.

This has been swirling around in my head for months.

Pair this line of thinking with my current one: what motivates our clothing choices when it comes to attracting the opposite sex?

This thought flashed across my brain sometime back when a bunch of friends went out to the clubs. I was with a girl who is super cool, intelligent, pretty, and has a fantastic - I’m talking killer - body. That night she chose to wear a dress that most respectable people - certainly anyone I associate with - would not be caught dead in, and perhaps wouldn’t particularly want to be near the person actually in it. She’s not a slut, but she sure as hell looked like one. Towards the end of the night, a guy walked past her and casually asked if he could take her home.

Ew.

Seriously, ew. Why would you put yourself in clothes that scream bimbo with no brain? That guy would not in a million years approach her if he actually knew her - either because she’s too cool, or because the rest of her personality doesn’t reflect the interests or tendencies of the rest of the girls that dress like that. All my life I have carried around a body that would NEVER get that kind of reaction from anyone. And I will admit, there have been times when I wish I did. But after that night my thinking totally changed: I wouldn’t feel hot - I would honestly feel absolutely insulted. There are way too many reasons you SHOULD be taking me home and none of them can be discovered while walking past me as you check out the T&A on display.

There is A LOT of power in the way we dress - do we even realize it? I can elicit interactions with a certain type of person based on the fabric on my body. Which makes me think - should I start dressing based on the type of attention I want and who I want it from? Isn’t that partly what we do anyway? Or are you supposed to “dress for yourself!” (Cue cheesy grin and a thumbs up for your self-esteem. Ew.)

Can we ever actually dress for ourselves? Should we? If I dressed for myself, would I always be in sweats, or would I still be rockin’ the look I normally walk around in? I don’t even know anymore…

High-achiever lit will tell you to dress for the job you want, not the one you have. Does that apply to people? Should I dress like someone who is materialistic if I want to bag a sugardaddy? If I wear a lot of jewelry does that automatically make the average bloke think I am materialistic and thus inhibit him from even trying?

Naive ones say that all of this extra stuff has nothing to do with anything - “just be yourself.” But I’m beginning to think that the smart kids are the ones who realize that there are certain tools you can really wield to your advantage - if you know it will get you what you want faster, why not use them? Better they work for you than against…

25 y.o. Ailing After Roller Coaster Joyrides; Trauma Leads to Age Cap and Warning Signs

Thu, 08 Oct 2009 23:50:00 +0100

I remember lying on my bed one evening talking to NM on the phone when he mentioned something curious.

He said he was always skeptical of a girl who was really bubbly and happy all the time, or at least one who appeared that way. Being someone who is often characterized by those two adjectives more than any others, I wondered why he would say such a thing. Did he believe we were actually sadistic murderers deep down inside?

Not quite. But, he did say that if a girl could get that happy and excited about certain things in life, when it was time to come back down there was a good chance she would probably get that low, too. As in, extremes go both ways.

At the time I thought he was being a bit cynical (sorry NM) but two years down the road, a soap opera of a summer and some hardcore reflection later, I realized there’s a lot of truth in that line of thinking.

Lately I’ve noticed that my highs are tempered too often by small moments of not-so-highness that bring me way, way too unjustifiably down. I’m not sure why…

Is it better to experience medium-sized happiness on a regular basis or to ride the peaks and troughs that inevitably accompany the drama-filled life of a passionate person? And do we get to choose which one we live by?

Not sure about the first one, but I used to think the answer to this last question was a resounding “YES” - I am a firm believer that attitude is 100% up to the individual. You control how you react to outside stimuli/circumstances/situations and you decide how you live your life. However, lately I’m not feeling like I have the power in choosing between peaks/troughs/drama and middle-of-the-road happiness.

Or maybe I’m not choosing because I don’t really know which one I prefer. I’m too passionate a person to accept the complacent rationality behind middle happiness. On the other hand, deliriously happy is a great place to be in but right now I’m not so sure it’s worth the sudden and really steep lows that follow. I’m just not sure how to get out of this cycle…or if I really want to..

Perhaps because this is another indication that I’m settling a little too perfectly into my post-Fanatic phase - the point in life (25 years of age) when you realize that you can’t change the world and that it really is gray and that there is no room for optimism and Santa Claus and the emotional hell of a dramatic life.

I’ve been fighting it off so far by refusing to give in to the pessimistic attitudes around me but my youthful bubbly spirit is in major need of reinforcements. Perhaps I just need to come to terms with the fact that roller-coaster-like peaks and troughs are not suitable for those over the age of 25?

They should post a warning sign up next time. Hmph.

Who Loves Change?

Tue, 29 Sep 2009 11:51:53 +0100

Me! MEE!

I especially like this new theme because it’s interactive - you can use the little box on the top right to change the colors. How cool!! I’m totally tactile - I love to touch, pick up, change, manipulate, tweak, pinch, zip/unzip, and twirl anything I can get my hands on (I am sure that those of you who have suffered from my hands-on tendencies are nodding your heads right now).

Well, welcome to my world and enjoy a space where you can play with the little scroll box on the top right :)

Not too happy about the shaft that comments get - you can barely tell that they are there! It took me a minute to realize that its the nasty white line in between posts with the text stuffed in the corner.

Oh well. Few things are “perfect.” You just learn to appreciate the loveliness and go with the flow :)

Philosophy of Happiness

Thu, 24 Sep 2009 23:06:00 +0100

We all have our rough days, even me :)

Yesterday was a particularly difficult one - and it didn’t help that it was a Wednesday (my least favorite day of the week in London). We were in our lesson planning groups looking through at a randomly assigned unit that we have to prepare and present in a few months. And it was in the middle of this randomly assigned unit, on page 58 to be exact, that an incredibly uplifting passage jumped out at me…what timing, what timing…

“I would counsel my heirs to seek satisfaction, not in the flux circumstances, but within themselves: I would have them resolute, self-controlled, independent, but not rebellious. Let them seek communion with that Eternal Reality which I call Allah and you call God!

“I shall invite my heirs to feast their eyes on the miraculous beauty of the earth - the rivers and seas to slake the earth’s eternal thirst, hills like the tents of a great encampment, forests like an army with banners; wide open spaces, dawns and sunsets, the indomitable arch of the sky. All these great gifts are freely given to the man with open eyes, open hands and open heart.

“Never forget this: This society in which we live cannot give man happiness. If we miss that, you miss my point altogether. Society can give a man space to breathe and freedom to move in it, it can afford him the means of keeping himself healthy and making and making himself strong. But happiness never depends on one’s surroundings; it depends altogether and exclusively on oneself.”

Source: Message of His Royal Highness Prince Aga Khan III, Mombasa, 1955. Cited in K.K. Aziz, Aga Khan III: Selected Speeches and Writings of Sir Sultan Muhammad Shah, pp. 1413-1415.

thecool: lydiasimmons: This is too true. What I’ve found even...

Tue, 22 Sep 2009 07:12:05 +0100

thecool:

lydiasimmons:

This is too true. What I’ve found even more, though, is that a best friend is someone who wants to learn to like the same music you like.

thepursuit:organicgroov:ahipstersfavdj:jarh:

On the Passage of Time Part III

Thu, 17 Sep 2009 10:00:00 +0100

Clearly this is my favorite topic.

It’s also the one that terrifies me the most. On my flight to Chicago I was watching the movie “17 Again” in which the main character, a middle-aged man in the midst of a divorce, returns to his senior year of high school to do it all over again and make better choices. Or something like that. I was thinking about it today and man - I would never want to go through that part of my life AGAIN and relearn all of the lessons I had to in the first place.

And then I was thinking about how I’m about to leave Chicago and how these past two weeks have pretty much sped by amidst random activities, camp work, mini-reunions and tons of food. I also sometimes think about how its already been a few years since graduating college and just today I was relieved to know that my ten year high school reunion is still a few years away.

Just now though, I was talking to my parents about Prodigy - the first version of the internet open to the public. How crazy that just a few years ago the internet was this baby that no body really knew about or could utilize all that much. My mom chimes in and is like “yeah I remember my boss showing us this presentation when I worked at the bank. He was telling us about how you could use it to check the weather and we were amazed…now look at it.” And my dad was like, “yup, in just 20 years.” To which my mom says, “get outta here it wasn’t 20 years ago. It was in 1989! Oh….”

You can probably imagine the incredulousness of my mom when she realized that her banking days, the end of the 80’s, and the start of the internet was a whole 20 years ago.

For me, it’s not a big deal to picture 20 years ago. “God, kindergarten was 20 years ago! No way!!” Ha. More like, it’s about time for the 20 year mark - feels like it should have been 40 by now!

And that’s the scary part - I feel like at any point now, the passing of time is just going to exponentially increase. For the first time in my life, I don’t necessarily crave the next step. I’m actually okay freezing for a bit and just staying in a state of gray. (Who knew that K4’s New Year’s toast would become so fulfilled?!)

And I am terrified of the day when I will stop and say, “Holy cow that was 20 years ago?!?!” I mean that’s about to be the 90’s. Are you even ready for that?? Jeez.

Time - all I know is that if you’re going to fly, it better be first class.. Don’t make me resent a life of crappy blankets and cramped legroom that comes with economy class territory, arright?

(Dated June 23, 2009)

The Deal on Principles and Middles

Mon, 14 Sep 2009 10:00:00 +0100

“I like middles. It is in middles that extremes clash, where ambiguity restlessly rules.” - Upton Sinclair (late American author)

I keep coming back to this quote lately and I’m not entirely sure why, but I’m about to give the exegesis a go:

I used to despise gray areas and middle grounds - I needed to know where I stood, I wanted to be in control, and I needed to make decisions. Black and white might have been missing from my wardrobe, but I more than made up for it in life.

And then, all of a sudden, things changed. Maybe it’s the product of my liberal, London education, maybe it’s the dawning of 25 and being in a big city just like in the movies, or maybe it’s just me throwing in the towel and letting the forces that drive my life do their thang. Why worry? I can control my actions but I can’t control life and all of it’s elements, so might as well start getting comfortable with middles and live it up the best way I know how, right?

And so began my new, ultra-cozy relationship with Middle. He’s nice. :)

When it comes to being middled (as in, dealing with the middles life throws you) I’ve learned to embrace the ambiguity and to revel in it. I like not knowing where we stand, I like knowing I have options and I even appreciate the spontaneous adventure that comes with having to rebuild the sandcastle that the latest wave of life has washed away. I like it so much that I’m starting to shy away from the concrete and glass high-rises that define and limit the skylines of a black and white world.

Then there is the middling (when you purposely avoid picking a side and choose to remain undecided, or in the middle). There is something about taking a principled, hard-lined, no-ifs stance on decisions that shape our lives. Something uncomfortable.

Let’s take (path) C for example. I’m going to break this down into a logic problem.

In life, C is.

In my life, C can take on a positive or negative form (like an ion), depending on the amount and type of exposure.

I would prefer C in its negatively charged form (if we’re going with the ion metaphor).

The problem is, C and I don’t bond to get a negative charge because C resists and can only have room for a positive number of electrons (right? Chem kids feel free to set me straight).

By default, my interactions with C are limited to the positive form.

Back to reality.

If the positivity is a default, it can’t be a principled, purposeful stance because principled is a choice and default is not.

Being comfortable with middles can be a really good thing - it makes you flexible, more adaptable to change, and overall much easier to deal and deal with. It can also be the perfect excuse for being loose with your morals and ethics - not a good thing. If I was going to take a principled stance then I would say that, regardless of C’s orientation and regardless of the charge I might be inclined toward, I would only settle for positive encounters. The problem with saying this out loud is that it erases any possibility of ambiguity, middle ground, or windows of negative opportunity.

If I say it out loud I risk:

a.) Going back on my word and indulging my weaker side or

b.) Feeling disappointed and deprived of what I actually want, even though I am aware that it might be the better decision in the long run

Do you shun ambiguity and take a principled stance because you acutally believe it or because you need to take that stance in order to eventually bring your feelings in line with the ethics/principles you aim to embody?

Or do you stay in the middle as long as you need to and only move to hard-lined decisions when you know that your heart, mind, body, soul are all on your side?

And why is it so hard?

If something is x, don’t do it.

C is x.

Don’t do C.

Sometimes Love Comes Around...

Fri, 11 Sep 2009 10:00:00 +0100

..And it really does knock you down.

I’m home for less than 3 weeks - 19 days to be exact, and of those 19 days a huge chunk of my time is being spent preparing and delivering trainings to a group of 16-24 year old summer camp counselors. Most people think I’m crazy for doing this since my time is so limited and to be honest, I too have been tempted to smack myself a little for giving in to camp time when I’m still struggling to finish my assignments from school. (I’m not the best decision maker.) But whatever - when you walk away on a high from getting to work with your favorite age group doing what you love to do, who gives a crap??

As the weekend came to a close I had an opportunity to connect with some of the counselors offline over dinner. As I looked around the table I noticed some of MY participants from when I was a counselor eight years ago (can you believe it??), as well as some previous RE students of mine, and some old colleagues who, like me, continue to give their time to the cause.

It almost makes me laugh when I remember that it never occurred to me to be a teacher. How could I have actually thought my life would turn out any other way when, so clearly, the monumental events in the trajectory of my life could only have led to where I am right now? Another teacher in the group, SA, and I sat talking over Mango Habenero wings, sharing with each other our experiences these past years and what led us into our current professions. She told me that her mom could tell SA was destined to be a teacher after her first year doing this camp.

My turning point was also a camp-inspired moment. It was 2006, I had just graduated and was sitting pretty with no job and no idea how to come to terms with the fact that I finally pretty much figured out what it was I wanted to do but was too scared to admit it. I was on my way to Atlanta to facilitate my first counselor training and as I sat in my seat on the plane I remember saying out loud “If I nail this training, I’m going to do it - I’m going be a teacher.”

(What does it mean to nail it? Could I have been any more vague?)

48 hours later on the plane ride back to Chicago: I have never been so confident and excited and thrilled about anything in my life.

Three years later, I’m feeling the exact same way. Both of us are sitting here gushing about our love for teaching - I feel like I’m renewing my vows. SA gets butterflies, ZS’s heart skips a beat. Can I tell you that every time someone refers to me as a teacher I feel giddy? It’s a bit ridiculous actually. ”You’re a teacher, Zahra, maybe you can provide some insight on this?” Another teacher named Zahra? Who? Oh wait…. It still takes me a minute. Or, every time I have to explain to someone what I do for a living I have to stop for a second and just take in that it’s really real.

I know how crazy it sounds from the outside - especially if you aren’t a teacher yourself or if you don’t relate to the feeling. Support for teachers and other… unconventional? non-lucrative? not-so-prestigious? (I don’t know haters, can you fill the blank?) professions are lacking - several of my friends and family members aren’t happy with the career change and don’t understand what there is to get so thrilled about, but even they can’t turn a blind eye to excitement clearly forcing itself through every pore on my face (no wonder they’ve gotten so much more visible lately..).

(Dated: July 16th, 2009)

So, to all the teachers starting their classes this week: this post is dedicated to you. Rock on, change the world, and save me a seat - I’ll be there next year and I can’t waittttttt!

Ramadhan Mubarak

Wed, 09 Sep 2009 16:53:00 +0100

It’s about halfway through the month of Ramadhan - a little more actually, which makes for a good checkpoint.

I decided, for the first time in a long time, to actually fully fast during this month - to abstain from food and drink from sun up to sun down, and I even threw in a full-time Coke ban just for kicks.

And you know, despite the 4am - 8pm days, it’s actually been a wonderful, wonderful experience. For starters, I don’t actually feel the hunger during the day - that’s the easy part. It’s the iftaari part that kills me! Who knew it would be so tough to say no to a second helping of dinner? Sheesh. Your mind thinks you deserve it after such a long day of working and not eating but really, the stomach wildly disagrees. Wildly.

But of course, most of us know that this month is not just about food (if only it were that simple). And, since it IS past the half way point, it’s high time I turned my thoughts to the more esoteric aspects of this month, such as focusing on the vices and virtues and that whole deal.

You have the standard ones that all of us are subject to - Lord increase me in my patience, tolerance, compassion, etc, etc. This month has definitely made me more aware of my shortcomings. I used to tell my students this and I fully believe it - we all know, at the end of the day, what is right and what is wrong. Every action we take, every word out of our mouth, every unspoken thought: we know where it falls. We really, really do. Sometimes we don’t want to admit it, but we know. And let me tell you, I feel it. Every time I say or do something that isn’t cool, it annoys me because I make so much of an effort to control the food that goes in and out of my mouth and then waste it on useless words.

Wherever this fasting idea came from - good job. It works, man.

I was thinking though - the food, the vices, I can handle that. But what if I had to go a whole month without something equally tangible and ever present, like…oh I don’t know…my make up and jewelry?

It’s a scary thought. A whole MONTH without it?! While I was on camp in Germany, I had the absolute bare necessities (it was like, if you could take one piece to the Island, what would it be, but in real life!) and it wasn’t a pleasant experience. I actually felt really, really uncomfortable in the jeans/tshirt/no make up look - it was a scary blast from the past that I quickly remembered I had left behind for good reasons.

A whole month without make up…the fact that it makes me shudder leaves no doubt as to what really enslaves me. I’m going to have to think about this one and get back to it. Might take while.

Coke, you ain’t got nothing on my Clinque.

Random Acts of Rebellion

Tue, 08 Sep 2009 22:07:00 +0100

Back in the day when my momma used to dress me and shop for me, things were….

…regimented?

I would wake up, pick the first shirt “in line” and wear it and then when I came home, I’d put it on the hanger and put it at the “end of the line” and not wear it till its turn came again. (Did anyone else have to go through this?!!?)

I definitely didn’t wake up in the morning and stare at my closet, ruminating on what color I felt like being like I do these days (truthfully, it’s my favorite part of the day). And I certainly didn’t get excited about anything new because by the time I got around to wearing it, it wasn’t new anymore thanks to rule #5,094: as soon as you buy something new, it goes directly to the back of the line. Do not pass Go, Do not collect $200, and sure as hell Do not wear it.

What a shopping buzz kill!!

While my teens and early 20’s were marred with intense rebellion (are you really surprised?), as an adult, I have inevitably re-adopted several practices that were inculcated in me as a child - like baking and of course, the love of my life - teaching.

But sadly, not all of my habits have never fully returned to their original, anal state. Admittedly, I commit acts of closet rebellion on a regular basis…and I RELISH them.

Take today for example, when I got up after sweetly dreaming about the outfit I would wear to match my new purple-black-pink-gunmetal bracelet. And guess what I did? That’s right baby - I woke up, wore what I dreamt of, and smiled giddly as I slipped on my NEW bracelet that I bought YESTERDAY.

Oh the thrills…

Big Guy and Universe Makin' it Happen

Tue, 01 Sep 2009 23:50:00 +0100

Today was a crazy day – it’s the day before school starts up again full time. That means intense lectures and ridiculous amounts of reading on top of planning and teaching on the weekends. But, as always, the start of school isn’t really the start of school without the ritualistic…

(no, not school supply shopping)

…papers. Two of ‘em to be exact. Finished and turned in in the interim between moving out of our temporary location and into our new one. It was, like I said before, a CRAZY day.

Starting at 5:30am when I decided, against my better judgment (but true to form), to take a little, teeny 20-minute/3-hour power nap before finishing both my papers.

Oops.

Come 8:30am and I’m jumping out the bed because I was meant to have finished packing up my room into 3 unsuitable suitcases and ready downstairs to have them carted off to North London at 9:00am.

Oops again.

I throw all of everything into something and bring it downstairs as I come up with a new game plan. Do I

a.) Follow my suitcases to North London, check in, get them put away, and then proceed to school to finish up and print the papers

b.) Go straight to school and deal with that whole mess later or

c.) Sit in my empty room and keep writing and think about my options later?

I went with option c. Standard. Until 12:30 at which point I decided it was time to leave and go to school to (continue) finishing up my two papers.

Sheer chaos. But, amidst all this craziness, something cool happened. So first remember: papers are due at 6:00pm in Central London. But, the last opportunity to check-in at the new place in North London is 5:00pm. No, going to check in first and then rushing back to turn in the paper doesn’t work. The commute would kill me on both ends and I could seriously use the time to finish writing. However, bedding, clothes, and life are already waiting at North London. Sleeping in Central would not be ideal. Ready? Go! RUN EVERYWHERE. (Try not to bang the laptop bag as you clear obstacles in your path.) If you can, take the bus. Today is not about getting a workout.

(Welcome to the intricate beauty that is my head. Ha. More straightforward and logical than you expected, huh? So much for intrigue…)

So, 12:30pm, heading to school. AM and I get outside our place and are heading to the IIS – luckily there is a perfect bus stop with perfect buses dropping us off right in front of where we need to be. Lovely. We hop on to the 73 to Victoria – which is a majorly popular bus. It’s so popular in fact, that it is an extend-y bus complete with multiple places to scan your travel pass, or if you’re poor, it’s a great opportunity to sneak on without scanning since the bus driver is too far away to see or deal with your cheapness.

I was tempted, but it being Ramadhan, I decided I wasn’t about to waste 16 hours of fasting on cheating Transport For London out of a pound. So I tagged in. (I would have spent more on lunch anyway.)

The craziness continues, I turn in my papers (at 5:07pm) (7 minutes AFTER I was meant to already be in N. London…oops…) and BOOK IT to North London and basically apologize profusely and appeal to the receptionists to check me in and give me a new home. It works (you go Big Guy!).

So now it’s like 6:00pm something and I am realizing that I have a ton of other errands to run to complete the move in process – picking up more of what my mom would term “labacha” or stuff that didn’t get transferred with my suitcases at the old place, picking up some random pieces of furniture and books that SV left behind at her old place (thanks, btw ☺), grabbing mail from my old, old place, and grocery shopping for the week at the old Tesco since I don’t know of any existing life forms, much less grocery stores in the new residential area I live in.

I am exhausted. And I miss Central London terribly.

I get to the bus stop by my new place – totally foreign territory, might I remind you – and up chugs the 390. Woo hoo, let’s get the second half of my ridiculous day started! I climb up at the front of the bus with my empty, eager-to-be-filled suitcase and move to tap my travel pass only to realize there aren’t enough funds on it for a ride. (Ugh, seriously? Seriously?!)

I move to leave when the bus driver asks, “Where you goin’ to?”

“Euston.”

BD, “Mmm. Can’t take you all the way to Euston, but heck I’ll take you to King’s Cross?”

Z: “Amazing.” (It’s like a 10 minute walking difference, 2 stops before Euston on the bus.)

King’s Cross approaches, I get up to leave and am one foot out the back door when I hear hollering. I look up and see that the bus driver stopped the people who were getting on, got out of his little driver box/compartment thing and was motioning at me to take a seat, “what the heck I’ll just take you to Euston.”

Awesome.

Way to come through, Universe, way to come through.

(p.s. I added money on, ended up taking multiple trips back and forth and finally, on my last trip back to North London, I hopped on the 390 at 11:06pm and guess who was driving??)

Because This is Totally What I Should Be Writing About When I Have a Paper Due in 12 Hours

Mon, 31 Aug 2009 23:50:00 +0100

You know, I spent a good part of my summer petrified at the possibility of being rendered paralyzed due to some unfortunate but inevitable biking accident scheduled to take place later this same summer whilst I was at camp in Germany.

Fortunately, no paralysis, loss of limbs, etc occurred in Germany.

However, now that I am back in London and working remotely from a temporary set up in a ghetto-as-hell flat with no internet connection, I am suddenly feeling a paralysis of a different sort.

I cannot live without constant Internet access.

Can’t do it.

These past two weeks have been a mess of tangled sheets, undone papers, and intermittent, when-I-can-get-my-hands-on-it moments of wifi. I feel like a junkie. A paralyzed junkie. And it sucks.

In my head, I’ve silently mused on a number of occasions about this fairly new, ridiculously ubiquitous invention known in shorthand as the www. I remember one time I was having dinner with a few friends and after about oh I don’t know like three and a half minutes of conversation there was a lull and immediately one of the hosts busts out a laptop and says, “Guys you gotta see this clip I found on YouTube!” And so on for the next four hours. What would we have done without the internet?

God forbid we’d actually force ourselves to dig through the noodles in our brain AND on our plates – at the same time!

And what about my music? For the love of Kanye, Jay-Z, Common, and all things R&B! Seriously though. I am a student (a POOR student, might I remind you) who loves music and cannot afford to buy or store thousands of CDs for my listening pleasure. Nor do I find any justice in buying an album that I probably won’t love for a song or two that I totally can’t live without. (But that’s another story altogether.) Internet, I need you.

And what about TV?! I no longer have the luxury of accessing that tube, but thanks to our new BFF, “E” (no, no not that E, silly) I can get any show from any decade, any language, any planet…

And don’t EVEN get me started on the benefits of instant information access and stalking capabilities (facebook). And really – my blogging libido is like zero. I have an idea and then I think – but what’s the point? There is no Internet anyway (I know, I know a poor excuse for the lack of communication NM, but I’m serious…it’s a serious mojo siphoner).

So yes, summer has been once again another series of learning moments which, I’m sure (now that I have internet access again) will emerge in due time, beginning with this first and very important lesson: If I was stranded on an island and could take just one thing with me I’d ditch the eyeliner and opt instead for my lovely MacBaby and some wifi!

Sheesh, I’m smitten.

Almost

Thu, 27 Aug 2009 12:15:05 +0100

I’m coming back, I promise.

With so, so much to say…

It’s been a nice holiday (yeah, right) where parts of me have solidified and other parts are still adjusting to the new, slightly harsher light that comes with the stripping of those lovely rose-colored glasses.

Hello, again, London.

Life is tough; it’s not about not wanting you to see (read) it, it’s about me not wanting to face it. (Don’t forget, I come first.) Writing is a difficult, self-reflective task that requires a lot of vulnerability and thick skin with a commitment to being able to rise above and get over it eventually. I just need a minute to recompose, figure out my stance and then I can go back to throwing up life on the page.

There are plenty of places to start, but where does it end?

…