Quote of the Day

Brought to you by: Nothing But Bonfires

I am nostalgic to a fault, perhaps because of the way I grew up---always moving, always leaving, always idealizing the place I used to be before I left it---or perhaps because of something else entirely, a rogue strand of DNA that got mixed in at the last minute. I miss people before I've left them. I reminisce about things ten minutes after they've happened. I look back on times that were happy and they make me happy but they make me sad too, and sometimes there is just no way to separate the happy from the sad, and it's because you can't go backwards, I think, because there's no way to press the repeat button. Things happen and then they're over. People are here and then they're gone. We keep going forward because we have to, and the past recedes in the rearview mirror behind us, and it gets smaller and smaller and smaller.

You can't go home again, they say, and it's true, you can't: you can't go back in time to a dusky summer evening in 1994 when all the world seemed alive and new. You can't go back with hard-won knowledge and hard-earned skills, and you can't do it over, even if you swear you wouldn't do it any differently at all. You can't go backwards, and so you have to go forwards. But there's nothing wrong with looking over your shoulder every once in a while.

Nothing But Bonfires is one of my very favorite blogs. Holly Burns, the author, is both British and witty, so really how could it not be a favorite? And while most of her posts do crack me up (like this one about her French cat [be sure to read past the first picture]), she is also talented in the Sentimental Sans Sap category (like this one and, of course, the one quoted above).

Anyone else nostalgic to a fault?

O Frabjous Day!

It is after midnight and I must get myself to bed. This morning I was supposed to be up at 6 to work out but didn't even gain consciousness till 10 to 8! Ups.

So, I will make this quick. Today was great. I feel great. Why?

Because it was raining when I woke up this morning.

I love rain.

Finally got stuff accomplished at work.

Productivity makes me :)

Lunched with Khabeans and got some great photos.

While taking pictures, the 5-yr old I used to babysit came out of a building with his mom. This kid has *lovely* curly blonde hair. His mom was wearing a bright red coat and carrying a bright yellow flower print umbrella on her shoulder. Her son took it and ran down the hallway yelling, I'm flying!!

When he came flew back our way, Khalisah says, I don't know which is yellower: that umbrella or your hair!

He immediately looks angry and with a FROWN goes, My hair is not yellow! It's golden!

Ah, I love a good laugh.

I left work early (only 20 minutes!) in hopes that I could go home and cozy up with a blanket and a book. I walked outside and was greeted by lovely golden sunshine and a bright blue, nearly cloudless sky. I was sad I couldn't take advantage of the rainstorm, but thrilled to walk home in the bright sunshine.

I love bright sunshine.

Dad made BLTs for dinner.

I love bacon.

I went to my Mexican neighbour's to study Arabic and watch The Closer. When I got there, she was sautéing pumpkin leaves fresh from her garden. We took a health break to run to the mini mart where we purchased chocolate--she, toffifee and I, Lindt Mint Intense Dark :D--and then ate it in the kitchen as she sautéed more pumpkin leaves.

I love good food.

On our way home, we caught a glimpse of a full, glowing moon peaking out from between a break in two clouds. We pulled to the side of the road and watched as it emerged completely and lit up the dark-blue clouds around it.

Spectacular.

Then we watched an episode of The Closer. I love this show. Afterwards, she French-braided my hair.

Beautifully.

Then, my gold shoes and I came home to 11 tagged photos on Faceboook--11 photos preserving memories of an extraordinary day.

I love an extraordinary day.

Good Thoughts For A Monday Morning

Monday morning YOUR time, that is. For me, it is Monday night, and I am taking this opportunity to watch Chuck (I love Chuck) and write about the wonderful past few days. I'm two days into my week, but you: you are just beginning. And that is hard. May these thoughts warm your cold hatred for the start of the week.

On Friday, I had to stay after church for a bit because my mom got roped into an octet (haha). I passed the time by "playing" the piano. I would have passed more time that way, but a girl cam up to me and asked my name. Uh, [Ray]. What's yours?

Maddie. Did you know that 3 hours in human time is a week and a half for a dog?

Guys, you couldn't write this stuff. I couldn't either.

Evidently, however, the writers of Friends could, and did. Friends, by the way, is off limits in her house and she and her older brother--who, in brave defiance of the ban--downloaded all ten season and burned them to DVD. When I asked what would happen if their parents found out about his DVD collection, she shrugged. Eh, probably get kicked off the computer for a month.

Oh, does he get in trouble often?

Half shrug. Probably thrice a year.

Guys, I am not even kidding! She actually said Thrice a year! Oh, I love this kid.

Then she ratted out her brother on a number of other serious no-nos, before imparting to me more great wisdom.

Did you know...

A blue whale's tongue is bigger than an African elephant?

Snails are so slow, it takes a whole month for it to go 1 kilometer!

Smokers lungs are really gross. (She saw them once at school.)

Pluto isn't actually a planet. It's too small, and anyway, it's just a bunch of ice, which real planets aren't.

But my favorite part of the whole conversation came at the very end, accompanied by a factoid about siberian tigers.

Male Siberian tigers can be as long as a compact car. I hope they're not jerks. We have enough of that in human boys (that's my girl!): attention span of a spider empathy of a python.

I don't know what that last part means exactly, but I LOVE IT.

On Saturday I went shopping and got some shirts. yay.

That night it rained. downpoured. flooded from the sky? I mean, I have never seen anything like it--and I know rain! Rain, thunder, lightning--for more than an hour! HEAVY rain, and near-constant thunder and lightning. I took video, but don't have the harddrive space to upload it right now. (Here's to my March paycheck! That will buy me a new computer!! A MAC !!!)

It's seriously cool. Y'all should be on the edge of your seats with anticipation. I'll get it up soon so you don't damage your gluts and quads :D

Last night we went shopping again and, because my mother made me, I tried on a pair of pants. I had tried on 4 other pairs that night and was soo tiiired of trying on pants! Plus, these were not my size AND they're petite. I'm short, but I have never successfully worn Petite-sized pants.

But she made me!

And do you know what? They are *perfect*

So perfect.

They are exactly the right length (UNPRECEDENTED!) . They flare below the knee. The fit in the thighs without being too tight. And they fit perfectly on my waist--no stretching out and falling to my hips. No awkward gappiness. Just: Perfection.

Do you know what that's like?

It's like those two perfect pairs of $70 Express Jeans I own. Only this pair of pants was only $40 and I can wear them to work.

You know, the Real World really isn't so bad.

And now it is time for me to go make and eat pancakes, then join Halina in several episodes of The Closer.

Hope your week is off to as great a start as mine :)

Postcard 2

Dear You,

I went to Cairo last month.

When I got back, I promised that I would get around to the details and the pictures and all that.

I have lots of pictures to upload and share, but very little hard drive space.

I'm sorry.

I won't be able to afford a new computer until April.

Until then, please experience my trip to Egypt through such savory morsels as these:

Much love,

Me

Saturday

I ate dinner with the old folks:

Then had Coldstone for dessert.

:D

I read the guestbook entries:

(I do!)

(It really is!)

When I was done, I sat and remarked on the Bishop/University Dean's converse One-Stars, and admired my own {awesome} gold shoes:

Ah, Weekend.

I am so glad you're here.

♥ ♥ ♥

MUSEletter v.2010

Dear You,

Thanks for stickin' around for my bumming and non-travel writing and even my non-writing [period] Did you know that working full-time takes a lot of energy? Boy I sure didn't. The whole first week and a half, I just came home and slept--that's what going from BUMMIN to FULL-TIME will do to a gal. (And, presumably, to a guy as well.)

In my last year of college, I began writing a publication. It was self-published and circulated via email to only the members of my immediate family and one in-law (total readership: 6, including myself), but it was a blast to write. I started it because at some point during the semester of fall 2008, I realized that with my family spread across two countries, two continents and three states, combined with my loathing of phone calls, I was losing touch with my family. Writing the Muse Letter was a way for me to connect with them while recording my experiences in Utah.

I began the project intending to make it a weekly thing, but writing it took so much time, I ended up doing it only sporadically. In the spring of 2009, I wrote my 7th and final letter.

Well, one year later, I'm busy as ever and my family is still spread out across the globe. So, I have decided to once again have a go at a weekly letter--a 'muse' letter, because I only write about the things I find amusing.

Har har.

So, welcome to Museletter 8/1.

My week began at 5:45 Sunday morning. It was my phone alarm getting me up in time for my 6 AM workout class. This is not an amusing detail of my life. In fact, it's down right, straight-up painful rising before the sun and working every muscle in my body (and becoming acquainted with the ones laziness has prevented me from ever knowing even existed). I am not a morning person and, in fact, last semester when my friend approached me with this "great idea," I told her I would only go if she physically dragged me from my bed and later rewarded me with copious amounts of ice cream. As it turned out, she never did either of those things; She never had to. I dragged myself to class that first morning (with some encouragement) and never even asked for ice cream.

Endorphins.

I recommend them.

Later that morning, I had a meeting with my boss. Her office is located on the second floor, the part of the floor with carpeted hallways and offices (the rest of the building is cold, grey tile). It is the wing where the university's most important officials maintain their offices, including the chancellor himself.

I had a chance encounter with him last week while my boss was away and I was at her desk, answering phones and attending to the stream of email that is a-constantly pouring into our office. He threw a quick hello my way as he passed not-my office, and then took a few steps back when it registered that I was me and not my boss. I introduced myself and told him that my mom was also an Important Official with a carpeted office and plenty of natural light (because it was clear he thought me a teenager--a teenager who, not unlike Goldilocks, had happened upon this particularly comfy office space with its just-right chair and free, high-speed internet access). To prove my noble lineage, I slipped in that I had (over)heard him speaking Arabic with one of the other Important Officials. As an Arabic guy himself, surely he would appreciate my year in the University of Utah's Rare Books Department, where I hung out with a whole collection of awesome Middle East and Arabic materials, including the third largest papyrus collection IN THE WORLD.

Well, I use Princeton's library, so...

Oh. Princeton's library. Well! Forget I even mentioned Utah's papyrus collection--

Chicago has a good one, too, he informs me (not really. I already knew they had a less-good papyrus collection). But anyway, he's not interested in anything that old. He's more the modern-lit type, but nice meeting me anyway.

Harumph.

On Monday, I had to go take care of some stuff in HR. One of the (several to many) hazards of sharing the workplace with one's well-known, well-respected parents is that everyone knows who I am, and how great my parents are, and boy where did I come from? (Just kidding. Two weeks in and I haven't spawned a single catastrophe.)

The HR guy is a Sudanese fellow who was excited that I had studied Arabic. Do you speak it?
Eh, I speak a little, I replied, for probably the 698th time since learning the phrase (last summer).

Ah, Lebanese! He was delighted at my accent, which really isn't Lebanese at all but depends entirely on where I learned a particular phrase (which has never been in Lebanon).

On my way back to my boss's office, I passed the Chancellor in the hall.

Hello, Chancellor! How are you today?

I don't remember how he replied, but I do remember him returning my question. I responded "Oh, pretty excellent."

He stopped to look at me. You know you can't be pretty excellent, right?

Uuh...?

You can only be excellent. 'Excellent' is like 'singular.' You can't be 'very singular' or 'sort of' singular. There's only 'singular'!

Uh, yeah. Well--

How are you with prepositional objects?

Are we still talking about English?

What really gets me--and I hear it all the time--is when a person says, He gave this book to my friend and I. It's not 'and I'--

--It's 'and me'! I KNOW! Just like with pictures. My grandma and ME, not 'and I'!

A certain understanding--a newfound respect--passed between us in that moment, and I knew the university was in good hands. He didn't just correct my grammar (unprecedented!), he vented to me about his grammar pet peeve--which just happens to be one of my own! Were he in his 20s, I might have fallen in love on the spot. As it is, I will just take delight in knowing there's a new sheriff in town--and he dowon't take no any crap.



On Tuesday, my friends came and visited me in my new and huge office. We ate leftover pizza and tried to name all 50 states. We finally succeeded--after only 40 minutes.
Then I looked up the capitols on Wikipedia. If you ever need to remember Montana's capitol, just remember it's Helena, Hannah's lesser-known sister.

I went to Arabic class at 2. I'm really rusty and the class is a much-needed coat of WD-40. (Does WD-40 come in coats?)

On Wednesday, Khabeanz and her sister came by. Her sister drew me a great picture, but I didn't take a picture of it! So, next post I'll share its awesomeness.

This letter has gone on way too long, and been far too low on the amusement scale. It's been a while--cut me some slack.

I now have to get working on tomorrow's talk. Luckily, I spent most of the afternoon listening to David Sedaris. I think I am sufficiently inspired.

Tonight, I will end with this picture, taken from the Dubai Metro on October 2, 2009.



AAAAAAA! Look out! A giant two-dimensional lobster escaped from Sea World and now it's attacking the--Safest Way?

Until next time,

Me

Big News

So, I haven't written in a while. Sort of intentionally. I really wanted a job, you see, and felt like in writing about wanting a job, and especially in writing about the specific jobs I was wanting, I was jinxing my luck.

You, like my mother, may be thinking that's utterly ridiculous, but I happen to think it isn't. Remember that internship I was all excited about several months ago? Yeah, never heard back from THOSE guys. (I emailed twice!)

And when they didn't respond, and no other job opportunities responded to all the energy I was willing out into the universe, then I went ahead and did the very last thing I wanted to do: I applied to grad school. It made sense and all. The American University in Cairo has a Forced Migration and Refugee Studies program, and one of the tip-top Arabic language programs EVER. Plus, Cairo is more or less the epicenter of counter human trafficking work in the Middle East. And the university offers several sweet fellowships, one for which I was particularly qualified. So, I applied to the university and for its fellowship, and was sure I'd at least get admitted to the university.

But then this annoying thing happened, and then that really important thing DIDN'T happen, and then I was off to Cairo for ten days where I visited the AUC campus, which an hour-long bus ride out of downtown Cairo, past dusty scenery and OVER-THE-TOP GAUDY but still unfinished villas to the new AUC campus that is....well, hideous. UGH. Grad school in Cairo sounds sweet until you realize it's actually school in New Cairo and that New Cairo isn't Cairo at all, it's Dubai! Only Dubai has many miles of gorgeous beach and New Cairo doesn't even have the Nile. So, really, all it is is one massive, terribly-planned, overpriced, resource-wasting, traffic-ridden development out in NOWHERE. And! It costs $4 EACH WAY by bus, which means either you spend $40/wk on transportation, or you live in UGLYVILLE, NOWHERE and then you're still forced to pay buku bucks whenever you want to go to Cairo, which for me would be: every chance I got.

(Also on my trip, I met with some really cool embassy folk who gave me great information regarding counter human trafficking in Egypt. I also met with the CHT programme director for the IOM [!], but there are no positions currently available. Bummer.)

I came home saaaaaaad. No job, no prospects, still no AUC acceptance (I dropped off some final transcripts while I was out there, but was till waiting on one lousy (not really) recommendation letter) and after 10 days of travel, was not ready to be back home, where I'd been doing nothing for four months already, with who knew how many more months of NOTHING ahead.

But then, at some point just past two weeks, I got an email. From AUC. An ACCEPTANCE EMAIL! I was accepted! But had only a week to get to AUC and--more importantly--get funding for it, so I couldn't even say yes.

And it was right about then that a most fitting job opportunity waltzed its way into my life. So, I wrote a, to quote a former professor on the matter, "kick-ass" cover letter and got an interview and, just today, got an offer. On a job. A JOB OFFER. For a real, full-time job with benefits and vacation days (33!! Can you believe it?? This is why people convert to expatriatism.) and a plane ticket home for my annual leave. A free plane ticket! To the US!!

Guys, jobs are cool.

So, let's see.
1 Blogged about IOM internship--nothing.
2 Didn't blog about AUC--got accepted
3 Didn't blog about any other aspect of my job hunt or opportunities--got a SWEET. JOB.

Ridiculous?

I think not.

Stay tuned!