i'm having trouble identifying what year we're in
constantly second-guessing myself today

harper is finally, finally out.
mazel tov, Canada. well done

god, how perfectly this encapsulates the whole miserable situation
Stabbed Israeli Jew mistaken for Arab criticises violence

... dreamt of tiny pink/green pears, fresh from a tree

while i've experienced the ache of being an ocean apart from a loved one and shared deeply in the girls' grief of living away from a large and connected family all this time, the latter seems to be hitting me now on a very personal level.

i don't know what's different... maybe the fact that i've gotten to know one more member of my wonderful extended family; maybe the fact that your mom and i have had real conversations this year, alone, and because she seemed so much more comfortable with me; maybe the fact that they came at the same time--and the fact that the space of two is so loud in its silence..

... maybe what's different is that when maryam, in tears, asked why we constantly have to make these absurd, impossible choices, giving up our loved ones for more stable, more normal lives, i suddenly felt as if i was making that choice with her..

joss whedon, creator of buffy the vampire slayer, responds to the question, "Why do you write strong female characters?"

Because you're still asking me that question

how i hate the fact that i've gotten to know emma's family through her illness...

too many emotions today.

i think it's quite fitting that i spent the holiest of all holy days on the jewish calendar--not fasting, not praying, not atoning--but comforting, cheering, and caring for a sick relative; that we were able to talk without the incessant interruption of phone calls and neighbours and food deliveries; that my time was spent in quiet contemplation of her decent mood; of the fact that i made her smile

you cannot imagine how much i hate myself for not being with you right now...

a beautiful, foggy day--a day to write...

what a shame that i'm at work

why should we prefer the "softer"--egyptian, lebanese--varieties of arabic, when what's characteristic of the language is that thick, wonderful, glottal ayn?

i assume, of course, that those of us who love it, do so for the same reasons :)

among other things, it occurred to me that i might have a pleasant night after listening to snippets of the pros and cons of hitch hiking--but the reverse happened... tense, worried dreams about loved ones and old friends.. the general stupidity of broken sleep, snoozed alarms..

i made some very edible (in fact, delicious) croutons out of some extremely inedible bread
...and i'm oddly proud of myself

flexural isostasy
maybe because it's 2am, but this looks/sounds weirdly sexual

seven years, عشق من
i still can't believe it.

has europe so easily forgotten its dead?

i can't believe what i'm seeing

until i've told you, i don't feel that i've told anyone.

what i mean is... things stay with me until you've heard them

i fully support the guardian's decision to run that devastating photograph on the front page and uncensored. there are people who need to see it and to feel deeply, terribly ashamed about their objections and their ignorance and their hate.

and i'm appalled by the fact that the globe and mail--a canadian paper that also ran the photo uncensored--referred to "migrants," not "refugees," in its headline.

if it hadn't been such a trying, emotional day, the neat row of stoic, stone-faced russian seniors sitting in front of emma's building would have been hilarious