عيني وأنا شيفو

i think there is no limit to the amount of garbage i can listen to in arabic and persian, both

the first-upon-return

f's witticism-of-the-month:

no, you're not a visible minority; you're an invisible minority. you're so small, you can be seen only through a microscope

with the rush to find a full-time job (and the slight panic of actually finding one), i had very little time to make the psychological transition out of school. so when i found myself back on campus last week i felt an unexpected blow to the stomach..

long, and sharp, and awful.

عزیزم

گریه نکن

برگرد به من

a few nights ago, a dream -

i stood in the kitchen of an empty, renovated home, with a man. we circled around each other, conscious of the attraction.. neither of us willing to make a move.

he took my hand, as if making some decision, and led me to the bedroom..

**

i woke up with the deep regret that i could remember no more than half-glimpses of what followed

politically-motivated or not.. there was a catch in my throat after obama's announcement; i feel privileged to have witnessed it

the heart is a lonely hunter

that morning - a lone duck, crying for its flock, flying frantically in the direction of home

that afternoon - a blue balloon, drifting over the subway tracks

عطر کتاب

loveliness

Congratulations on your graduation, your new job, and your new townhouse!!! So much to be proud of!

All the best,

Andrea & Rob

....i can't imagine any other occasion on which i would type "define knackered" into my google search bar

"in thy orisons / Be all my sins remember'd"

it's been eight days since i wrote my final undergraduate exam.

i feel lost, somehow, and useless...

everything seems remarkably tame after the horror... the insanity of cormac mccarthy's Blood Meridian. i began guy vanderhaeghe’s The Englishman’s Boy expecting a continuation of the same grim landscape.. the same tension that permeated mccarthy's every pause, because once his work is read it reverberates in your skull with every blink of the eyes

what i found was pain of a different sort.. language that didn't claw at your heart but curled around it.. waiting

f's witticisms of the month:

- me: you're the biggest khar

- f: no i'm not! have you ever seen a khar? even an average one is bigger than me

**

pesterious (rhymes with mysterious) - to be a pest

"And I see rivers of stars and the wide sea with its sad voice, and emerald fish fluttering on the sea bottom, glad to be themselves. And bell towers and blue forests, and a store window filled with hats. A burnt foot like the inside of a plum. A lice comb with two nits. The lace hem of a woman’s dress. The violet smoke from a cigarette. A boy urinating into a tin. The milky eyes of a blind man. The chipped finger of a San Isidro statue. The tawny bellies of dark women giving life. And more lives and more blood, those being born as well as those dying, the ones who ask questions and the ones who keep quiet, the days of grief and all the flower colors of joy.

[…]

My sky, my life, my eyes. Let me look at you. Before you open those eyes of yours. The days to come, the days gone by. Before we go back to what we’ll always be."

- Sandra Cisneros, Woman Hollering Creek and Other Stories, "Eyes of Zapata"

i think it's particularly idiotic of cenovus to refer to the alberta oil sands as a prime example of "canadian innovation"

my kitties

my life in two calendars

سال نو مبارک، عزیزان من

wishing you all a year of peace, love and warmth

all that i've learned, i've learned from fiction.

extremely disappointed in the success of downtown abbey

wishful thinking, historical revision, melodrama...disgusting.

not that i didn't watch every last episode. 

ای عاشقان، ای عاشقان

how desperately i want you all to be happy

how little i can do

how much that hurts