probability of precipitation

moving on

2007-02-18T00:33:00.000-05:00

i noticed that i stopped writing in this blog almost exactly a year after i started it. in many ways a few drops of dew represented my head space at a very particular moment in time and i'm not sure how appropriate it is to continue my thoughts in this space. for one thing... it seems like i have to give up my personal life to the search engine that begins with the letter g and ends with an oogle... not sure i'm ready to merge this with my email account. and for another i've been terrified to write out my feelings for the last... well ever since i stopped going to school. not sure if that coincided with no longer having to sit through lectures and write copious amounts of notes... thereby ending the need to make introspective observations about my life... or if i've just been so terrified unable to face my own thoughts and feelings in some ways that writing seemed to be a way that would have made them a little to real. its probably safe to say that the latter is coming into effect. although as i type these musings i'm starting to feel a little better. i guess the main thing is that i'm not sure what...
i just noticed that i keep writing "not sure".

uncertainty is the undercurrent. the under tow. the undoing of threads that weave through and piece together the making of what i had thought made up the meaning of my life. and yet, as i type this out it all seems so insignificant. like specks of dust in our infinite universe and belly button lint in comparison to the explosion of a star.

i'm not sure.

but still i know. that people love me. that i have a warm family. a warm bed. and a resolve to be happy. to be positive. to smile. to wait.

and see.
what.
it all holds.

it feels good to write again. it feels strange. it feels like my fingers might fail under the weight of the aquarium of thoughts. i've been taking myself underwater lately. in the middle of my mind. in the middle of the day. under the depths of my duvet cover in the middle of the night.

into the middle of salt water and the sea. and artificial breathing tanks... and regulators that keep things just so.
that keep us breathing in when plunged to artificial depths that don't ordinarily support our life forms.
and the regulator keeps everything sure. steady. certain.
in one lung and out the other.
through the mouth only and lips around plastic and rubber.
and air bubbles that disappear to the surface.

it is quiet in those depths.
except for those bubbles--
the sign of life.
and the constance of breath.

so what am i getting at?
i'm not sure.
i'm not sure.

it's the density of emotion... its opaque, oblique hold on certain parts of my consciousnes and subconsciousness. depths of feeling that defy rationality. craving the explaining power of lightness. bearable desireable and somehow out of reach.
beyond oustretched fingertips flying through letters and clicking.

i'm trying to find a place.
where my heart's joy will accept its pleasure. where blessings will be appreciated. and joy can be celebrated.

my drops of dew are waiting under the snow. my tears are waiting in the sun.
and the ocean is not as far as i think it is.

my sister is a womyn...

2006-09-19T23:44:00.000-04:00

or so she tells me that her english teacher gave her heck for using that spelling--
and that her history teacher insisted that there was no such thing as "herstory"--
this evening my sister recounts this to me and says "uh.. hello, feminism!".

(i guess i've brainwashed her well).

i'm back home--- home
in the bustling metropolis that is this small town in south western ontario. it's not as bad as it might seem however. i sleep in every day and am happily unemployed. i loved my stint at our nation's public broadcaster--- but the radio news theme still gives me chills as it reminds me of the tight deadlines we faced everyday. i'll be content just to listen for now. not that the experience hasn't affected me in other ways. i suppose i'm one step close to media whoredom since the day of the dawson college shootings one of my first thoughts was: "wow... this is a great day for the newsroom". not that the events of the 13th didn't send it's own chills down my spine or make me feel sad. what a terrible tragedy. what's super creepy is the killer's journal stayed online (and could still be there) for a few days after--- somehow i felt compelled to read it--- but it just made me really sad that he could be so disturbed and not have anything to make him happy in life.

****

back here at home montreal feels so close and yet so far away. in many ways it feels like i never left for mcgill-- and yet, last night i spoke to gabi and had a pang of yearning for our evening walks to the american apparel on saint denis. i miss sushi shop, and walking down st laurent, and getting pinoy groceries in cote des neiges, and going to tams, spontaneously going to concerts, and random meetings with friends that turn into day-long hangouts.

i love being with my family though-- sometimes they drive me up the wall, but less so lately it seems. i'm back in the fold and they're (my parents) are also adjusting to me being "an adult"-- well maybe not entirely-- but it's not bothering me. i'm heading off to victoria early next month to visit jameel-- a good solid 18 days of r and r by the ocean should be great!

mi casa es su casa...

2006-07-25T21:11:00.000-04:00

i have a new set of four walls to call my own-- next to the gay bathhouse, and it is starting to feel like home. i have a tiny window and digital cable in my room-- so a view of the world really. the apartment is small but cozy. and gabi and christine are sweet and lovely. it's nice to come home to people... usually many many people. christine's parents were here for a few days last week. lover(s) are randomly here. right now i'm alone watching the news on my new other roommate: the TV. i love it.

i've been so neglectful of dear blog. i've been running around a lot, that i haven't had a lot of time to think about what i've been doing and what i will be doing in the next weeks. the internship is wonderful, and it's hard to believe that it's almost 3/4 over. steph is arriving back to montreal really soon. jameel's going to victoria. and i'm going to be leaving the city soon. and living back at home--- whew... we'll see how it all works out. for now i'm just relishing the ride. trying to keep my head level and enjoying everything that comes my way.

on another note, cinema du parc is closing. i have pangs of guilt for not having gone there in several months. jameel and i went a few weeks ago to see "the road to guantanamo". it's hard to believe that something that was such a big part of my first few years in montreal is going to be gone after august 3rd. heh... oh sweet memories.
perhaps something cool will emerge in its place. i'm going there tonight, and i hope i will enjoy it.

and so the transition continues. i'm just so thankful that i LOVE LOVE LOVE my job.
more stories soon... promise.

transition...

2006-06-29T19:10:00.000-04:00

it's interesting to see how different people deal with it. i don't. or at the very least... not very well. and so far the transitions i've had to make in my life haven't been particularly difficult or earth-shattering. there's always plenty of support and love to go around. today at work we interviewed twinkle rudberg.... great name huh? she's the founder of an organization called LOVE (leave out violence). it's a youth violence prevention organization that has become widely successful across the country and in new york city too. in the 1970s her husband was stabbed to death by a troubled 14 year old as he was trying to retrieve a purse that the kid had just stolen. thinking about how someone could bounce back from something like that and turn it into something so positive for young people is just amazing... totally awe inspiring.

right about now, the only thing awe-inspiring about my situation is the amount of junk that i've managed to collect over the course of 4 years... junk that i've "neglected" to throw away. i'm packing up my apartment at 1735. bye bye crack heads and daytime drunkards... at least for now. i'll be a plateau girl for the rest of the summer. tomorrow jameel and i will be driving to toronto, then to guelph in a rental van. road trip out of necessity... i hope the traffic won't be too bad.

packing up this place and looking at all the bits and pieces of paper (because that's what most of the crap is) i've seen how much my life has changed. i dug through and found my lease for solin. old phone bills. random artwork done by my sister. i found birthday cards given to me in first year. photographs where we all look so hilariously young. course packs that i never actually read. thank you cards from the numerous (international) guests that have stayed in my various apartments. cuttings of the pedigree girls. and of course, the first love letter my boyfriend ever sent me.

i'm going to miss this place come august.

an abnormally long absence

2006-06-14T00:19:00.000-04:00

apologies for not posting in the last month basically. i've been super busy (as per usual), but there have been a couple milestones thrown in along the way. the most significant is obtaining the piece of paper that has now conferred my commencement into society. i convocated on june 1st, under a big tent on lower field and in the presence of my family. it was totally great. receiving my piece of paper with my name and a bunch of writing in a dead language i don't understand was thrilling enough. but the best part of it all was hearing my full name-- first, middle and last-- pronounced in utter perfection by the woman who was reading them out. (check out the archives if you care to relive my joy- haha!).

my family came to montreal and stayed in my apartment-- something that all three of them haven't done at the same time since they moved me into this place two years ago. it was very nice to be able to share a slice of my montreal world with them. my poor sister dislocated her knee cap in the airport just after landing so she was on crutches for the rest of the trip, but we had a great time nonetheless and she was a great sport about it. she's such a trooper. we had an enjoyable couple of days-- mostly spent enjoying the various culinary delights of the city. my parents' close friend (the father of my friend-- his daughter), suffered a heart attack while they were here in the city so we all went to visit him in the hospital. this meant htat we spent a fair amount of time in hospitals over a couple of days between aaliyeh's fall and the heart attack. i shadowed a reporter who interviewed a somewhat crazy concert pianist a few weeks ago. apart from some of the more inflammatory things he said, he said something that resonated with me-- about how our society hides our old people and our sick from public life. it's like when you need more care or lack power you somehow have to be hidden from public view or tucked away. the segregation between sick and "healthy" or old and young is so sharply defined. but it's rare that we think about it i think. and yet hospitals and medical stuff can become so routine or part of the "furniture" of everyday existence as soon as some bodily or mental function goes slightly off kilter. "illness and death are natural", this pianist guy said. "we shouldn't hide it". of course, he was saying this in the context of his opposition to montreal's newly instituted nonsmoking bylaws and his own opposition to them (ie. lung cancer and death are natural and we shouldn't be hiding our sick-- somethow this linked back to "i should be allowed to smoke in a bar"--- but i don't remember how). in any case, i thought it was something intersting to think about it.

speaking of work, i've also completed one month of "9 to 5ing". it's been great so far. i feel like a bit of a pinball sometimes being bounced from show to show. but in keeping with my ADD - multitasking tendencies it's been working out well. right now i've just begun working with the weekend show which means two things: longer pieces and less pressing deadlines. all in all a good deal and a lot more freedom for me. i'm pretty excited. if any of you have story ideas... PLEASE send them my way. i now know what it's like to be a media whore.

i have to go to bed soon cuase i'm mad tired. i went to a talk tonight about the human rights situation in the philippines. in a word, it is: bad.
i'll write more later, i promise. now i have to go to bed.

Day 3 (post-training)

2006-05-11T00:12:00.000-04:00

It was my third day of work today. I'm exhausted from getting up at what were previously "un-godly" hours. But it has all paid off, and rather prematurely, but wonderfully. The story I pitched about the Filipina domestic who fell into a coma and woke up to find that she could be deported, was so compelling to the CBC people that it went from a story on the Montreal morning show to a national news story on the World at Six and As it Happens. I can't believe it. And I'm sooo happy... some of my life ambitions have now been fulfilled. Ha. I'll get the links up here soon. Now I need to go to bed.

the mail robot and a graduation celebration

2006-05-02T21:27:00.000-04:00

today was my second day as an intern for CBC radio. the first day was overwhelming, as was today. yesterday i was nervous as all hell about the fact that the three other interns (two girls and a guy) were older than me. i was also nervous that i wasn't good enough, that i wouldn't be able to mould my creative process and writing and productive skills into CBC worthy shapes and morsels. i felt like the "media world" was slightly insane with its emphasis on "pitching" stories and getting the audience perpetually interested. or as havoc, our gzowski internship trainer (yes, his name is havoc) informed us our role is to "entertain, inform and enlighten" which is straight from the canadian broadcasting act. being in the tower is funny, i'm sure i'll never be able to listen to the radio again without "hearing" how the story was put together. i also am learning to stretch my mind in new and exciting ways. to be honest, i don't think i've been this challenged in any of my university classes, which says something, but at the same time, is unsurprising since this experience: being with three other interns and the instructor is a much more intimate dynamic than even the two graduate seminars i took this past year.

if there's anything that fascinates me about the CBC its the mail robot that travels the building--- alone and beeping. periodically stopping in offices, carrying parcels and weaving deftly around corners and through hallways. aside from the robot (steph: please let lazar know about my blog if he doesn't already... cause that was for him!), theres' the whole learning experience which, as cliched as it sounds has totally changed my outlook on how i think and has also shown me how nervous and insecure i feel when put in new, and unfamiliar situations.

today however, was different from yesterday. havoc laughed at me when i told him i thought yesterday was intense. he said today would be way worse since we were critiquing each other's writing. we spent the afternoon looking at stories that we had prepared the night before. line by line, we dissected and gave each other constructive criticism and suggestions. again, i was nervous as hell, but not as perturbed as some of the others seemed. i chalk this up to my father--- who while infinitely supportive of anything i do, will always offer constructive criticism to my work (whether solicited or not). i guess i expected it and i felt like maybe it just didn't bother me as much. and for that i'm lucky.

i still have my homework assignment to do... i just may post it when it's finished. i have to write a story based on something from a personal experience. i haven't mentioned that the stories (and these are writings that are meant to be read ("performed") on radio) are supposed to be only 1 minute long... that adds to the difficulty of it all. as far as how i'm feeling about the training so far? it's wonderful, it's absolutely wonderful and i really feel like my brain is working--- which is exhausting at times but also comforting. i feel as though i'm beating the academic style out of my body. university atrophies writing style and creative limbs and muscles. this way i'm beating another discipline (media writing) into my soul, but if i'd have to choose one evil it might as well be the one that might be able to touch people regardless of background or skill level. radio writing in that sense, is hard as hell, but seems to also be very accessible.

on another note, i finally had a graduation celebration--- a surprise one at that. no party or anything. just a lovely and warm evening dinner with my cousin minelle (my hero and life-time mentor who read me words out of the dictionary as she cradled me in her arms as an infant). i arrived at her house this evening and she had cooked me a delicious meal. she got me a nice gift and wrote me a touching graduation card. then for dessert she pulled out a chocolate mousse with my name on it and fresh berries. i love that woman so much! spending time with her really made me start to think about the "end" of my university era... very strange to think that i wont be in school next fall. but then, i've reminisced about that enough on this space.

i have to get back to my assignment... but i'll keep you posted.

Boycott!

2006-05-01T08:06:00.000-04:00

It's May Day today, marking protests all over the United States (in particular) in support of immigrant and immigrant labourers, especially those who are without status or papers. I for one am being a big hypocrite and am starting work today... but please support those who are struggling if you can. It's being called "A Day without Immigrants", much like the documentary, "A Day Without Mexicans".

If South Park were to do a live action bit...

2006-04-28T04:04:00.000-04:00

... this is what it would look like.

although i don't believe that they've taken on Erap, these shots of his supporters would really work well i think. i can just imagine that episode: GMA would be ridiculously tiny (true to life). Erap would be pimpin' and a game show and pageant would be involved. maybe we should pitch this to matt stone and trey parker...

home again, home again...

2006-04-26T21:19:00.000-04:00

...jiggity jig! (as the old nursery rhyme goes).

Yes, I'm back in Guelph. Sleeping in my loft bed in my bedroom which is now filled with the debris of my life -- childhood bedrooms can be like a weird time warp. The binomial theorem from my grade 12 math class is still inscribed on my whiteboard above my desk. A stack of my high school yearbooks that Aaliyeh must have pulled out at some point is beside me on my desk. There are also two huge plants that have taken up residence in my absence as well as piles of my sister's stuff. It's strange to think that I'll be back here next September (or October possibly), but either way, I'll will be returning. I haven't lived at home in close to three years. The last time was summer of first year and following that I stayed in Montreal. Sometimes with regrets and sometimes without. But all that time I can't help but feel (with that 20/20 vision that hindsight gives) that I was running away from something. Not to say that home was something to run away from, that was not it at all. Home is not a source of unpleasantness for me, it's warm and comfortable and luxurious really. But I wanted to stand on my own two feet (even though mommy and daddy are still paying for rent). And I didn't want to come home just because *they* wanted me too. Also, coming home in some senses to me, meant acknowledging that I had a responsibility to them, as their daughter, to be there, in case they needed me-- and in my mind they shouldn't be needing me-- I was their baby and if anything it should be the other way around.

In any case, summers in Montreal are inifinitely more action-packed than ones in southwestern Ontario. right?

I've forgotten where I've wanted to go with this meandering thought. The resistance that I feel to being at home is still there. I want to be here, but I don't want to be here. I want my independence (or rather, play time!), but I love being with my family. And yet, there is still that nagging selfish part of me that just wants to run away from it all, because running away means deferring acknowledgement to a later time or at the very least, that comfort zone called denial.

heh... the "only child" in me rears its ugly head.

It's Mama's birthday today. I almost forgot, which is absolutely horrible, but remembered last night and wished her after she picked me up from the train station and we were sitting at the kitchen table having a midnight snack. Aa and I spent the afternoon running around the park with a soccer ball and then we went shopping for some gifts. We had Indian food at the new Diana (and kulfi for dessert!). It was very nice and I think she enjoyed it. There's something absolutely incredible about the strength of mothers, no matter what, it's incomparable. A lot has changed since I last inhabited my room with my loft bed and binomial theorem... but yet the "glue" in the familial system is constant-- keeping us in line and sane, and loving.

"making love to you was never second best.."

2006-04-22T15:29:00.000-04:00

In the midst of the Cuban Revolution... I have created a sweet little playlist. Hopefully it will help me do well on my exam on Monday. Here's something all of your Mp3 devices. This mix is specially dedicated to my cousin, Minelle who generally has awful taste in music.... but who introduced me to a couple of the songs below...

1. Simon and Garfunkel - "Feelin' Groovy"
2. Bob Marley ft. Lauryn Hill - "Turn your lights down low"
3. Bille Holiday with Louis Armstrong - "My Funny Valentine"
4. Nick Drake - "Pink Moon"
5. Annie Lennox - "A Whiter Shade of Pale"
6. Everything But the Girl - "Protection"
7. Nouvelle Vague - "I'll Melt With You"
8. Sophie B. Hawkins - "Damn, I wish I were your lover"
9. David Gray - "Bablyon"
10. Esthero - "Heaven Sent"

saving sacomss

2006-04-20T08:42:00.000-04:00

here are the long awaited photos from the SACOMSS protest that happened at McGill a few weeks ago. some of them are from the GGFS blog, others i took myself. as i was getting signatures for our petition at the roddick gates, i was pleased to meet a former outreacher who told us that he was a volunteer back in the 90s when the outreach branch first started out.

"Oh wow! you were in Outreach? We're in Outreach! What's your name?"

"Justin."

"We're having a rally at 2 pm today if you want to come"

"Oh, sorry I can't, I'm late to meet a professor"

"Oh okay, well, you can have a free ribbon or condoms if you like"

"[laughs] I just got married so that's taken care off. Do you guys still use the dialogue at the beginning of outreaches?"

"you mean the Cop Scene? Yeah, we still use that sometimes. Hey.. can i get your contact information?

"Sure. But not on the petition though"

"That's fine. Here, write it on this"

After he signed the petition, I handed him flyer for the rally with a pen. When he handed it back, I looked down to see that he had written his name, Justin Trudeau, and his phone number.

like so many things

2006-04-20T01:21:00.000-04:00

the trickling time and beat pounds out
the joy of revellers in the sunday afternoon sun
and the 2/4 time of domesticated anxiety growing in my ribcage

if you stay out of the pool too long (and it's a pool not an ocean), you forget how to swim
or think you've forgetten, realizing once you've swallowed a few cups of water
that arms and feet can indeed be coordinated

as with the mind and the heart
and like so many things
momentary elation is just that

elation
momentarily

ceasing what might be so terrifyingly believable
rendering weak the strong
and strengthening what previously was only seen as weak

there are too many threads here to sew
my fingers are nimble
my eyes capable of seeing

deep reds and oranges, velvety blues and lush greens
soft yellows and blue dawns laced with gold.
changes so sudden are not so abruptly
fitting, fit in time with chronological instances

kept hidden
lest i seek.

here. without your help, and my willful blindness.

so much to say... so much to say...

2006-04-12T00:55:00.000-04:00

yesterday was the last day of school. it was my last day of my B.A. (well, not counting exams). classes finished for me last thursday, so i spent the day, fittingly, protesting against my now, alma mater's administration. the SACOMSS protest and rally was a great success as a demonstration i thought. a HUGE turnout by mcgill standards and very attention grabbing and effective. i'll post photos soon.

i'm about to go to bed right now... but i promise. more soon. really. i feel like everything's moving so fast, ending and beginning at the same time. and yet, i'm still the same person just blurring through and moving into new spaces and feelings and beings. being... not a student. being...
heh. just be.

(by calvin and hobbes).

don't forget to support SACOMSS www.savesacomss.com

Fire With Water

2006-04-05T23:14:00.000-04:00

It's that time of year again. SACOMSS is having its annual art show. I don't have a piece in it this year, but I'm especially proud of the Awareness Through Art Program that Leah and I coordinated together. The girls at Programme Mile End and The Study did a phenomenal job on their art pieces. I hope you can all come to the show tonight (Thursday night). Below is our poster, you can click on it to see the bigger version. Props to Steph for her beautiful photography.

wow.

2006-03-31T01:17:00.000-05:00

my BA is almost finished. i can't believe it. i also can't believe that i'm going to be out of school for the first time since i was 5 years old. shocking. i heard back from the CBC the other day too... which means i am very likely going to be staying in montreal for another summer, while also doing radio. i've still got angst (see the previous post about this internship) and am eternally amazed that i've been selected for this really cool opportunity. i'm still reeling though from everything.

amidst all this, the SACOMSS art show is coming up next week, and on top of it all, our centre is being evicted again. please sign our petition, and check out the website www.savesacomss.com. e-mail the principal of mcgill, heather munroe blum also.

i will post more soon... must get back to reading.

i shouldn't be writing this...

2006-03-26T01:29:00.000-05:00

i really should be writing my paper. but, as procrastination would have it, i'm on blogger instead. i'm writing a paper about filipino american popular culture... including the work of Sabrina Alcantara-Tan of bamboo girl zine and Lynda Barry, author of the comic strip/graphic novel One Hundred Demons. both are absolutely brilliant artists/writers who i respect a lot. check out their work someimte. i read lynda barry's novel "cruddy" years ago, and didn't realize that she's a quarter pinoy. her comic strip is so bare, and heartbreaking and funny and real. i love it. it's dark, yet witty. and any comic strip that incorporates "tunga!", "kili kili" and "ay nako!" is good in my books. hahahaa.

magandang gabi, po. back to work for me.

dietary needs

2006-03-20T00:18:00.000-05:00

I'm in a big studying groove right now. It's passed midnight on a Sunday, but I'm motivated to work, somehow. I attribute it to the fact that I ate three square meals today, all sizeable, all healthy. Lots of ruits and vegetables were involved which is rare. It started off with green (St-Paddy's day) waffles at Connor's with loads of fresh fruit and syrup. I was stuffed. Then some vegetarian lasagna at anti-oppression day for SACOMSS (which was preceded by a fantastic "Theatre of the Oppressed" workshop in which I moved my body- ie. ran around a room- in ways that hadn't been done in months). Then in the late evening, as a study break, Christine and I split another lasagna and an avocado quesadilla, followed by sumptuous brownie with icecream at Lola Rossa. I just got home about an hour ago, and I feel like I have a lot of steam left. Note to self: eat healthy, feel good. Thank you Health Canada.

This weekend has been pretty good. I've been doing a lot of studying. Putting in time at the library and even getting some socializing with study buddies in. On Saturday I accompained Sarah to a barber shop on Parc to get her head shaved. It was quite the experience that I will elaborate on later, suffice it to say that she emerged sometime later, looking quite like Michel Foucault, which was the look she was going for for her presentation tomorrow afternoon (in her religious studies seminar). I also got to hang out with Christine which hasn't happened in eons. And I met Connor's wonderful parents at brunch, which, along with the green dyed waffles, made me happy. Oh, and Friday was Mae's birthday, where much fun was had by all in Chinatown--- yummy food followed by bubble tea.

I've figured out the equation for happiness:

Food + Friends /reasonable productivity = my satisfaction

heh...

and tomorrow is Norouz.

Happy New Year everyone!

(now back to Castro's "History Will Absolve Me")....

Happy International Women's Day!

2006-03-08T23:38:00.000-05:00

just because, and because we women have a ways to go before our vaginas don't preclude our power in the eyes of others.

Girls can wear jeans
And cut their hair short
Wear shirts and boots
’cause it’s ok to be a boy
But for a boy to look like a girl is degrading
’cause you think that being a girl is degrading
But secretly you’d love to know what it’s like
Wouldn’t you?
What it feels like for a girl

spoken like a true feminist Madonna (+ co writer Guy Sigsworth)
I promise to follow with something more articulate soon. When my budding carpal tunnel isn't rearing its ugly head....
hope you all celebrated well.

seen

2006-03-07T22:27:00.000-05:00

almost every day i ride the metro. not because i necessarily want to, but more out of convenience. in the summer i liken myself to a road warrior, battling the streets but in actuality riding painfully slowly on my second-hand mountain bike. i love breathing in this city through its streets. but its underground offers its moments too... warmth, sometimes suffocating, sometimes life saving. certainly speed, efficiency, as i mentioned before, but also heartache, silence, sideways glances... same as above ground except more contained. on mornings when i feel like it, i pay the toll to the different, but rotating men holding the heavy doors open at the foot of the stairs leading from the bus station into the metro. the turnstiles are not too far away. sometimes i race down the escalator to the angrignon side at breakneck speeds (because, usually if i hear the train coming i'm already running late). from there on in, it is usually uneventful. i stand with the rest of those on the way to work, school, shopping... is there anything else that people in this world do? heh...

most of the time the car is quiet. people don't speak to one another, except for a few friends maybe. on friday and saturday nights there is that buzz of going out and alcohol and fun.
the other day on my 4 stop ride home, the train was pretty full. i glanced out of the corner of my eye a guy seated, and he was gazing to his left with a look on his face- his eyes, his mouth, his smile- of complete adoration. there was someone in front of me, so i couldn't see exactly who he was looking at at first, but i thought to myself, it could only be someone that he cares for deeply. lo and behold as i got out of the metro car, i saw the girl seated next to him--- the object of his attention and affection...

"prochaine station... beaudry"

love angel music baby - love-hate (LOVE!) retail.

2006-03-01T14:33:00.000-05:00

My love is in Thailand (but returning soon, much to my self-indulgent delight) and like any self respecting capitalist I sent him a list of items that he could procure for me in the markets of the city. A great thing about the third world is the easy access to pirated goods, reproductions, counterfeits and production overruns, all of which run at much lower prices than any comparable goods here in our privileged abodes and shopping malls. So when I was having a look at designer bags online, I couldn't help but be shocked that someone could actually spend hundreds of dollars on a fucking tote bag. A handbag--- going for like, $895 USD. Have a look at the madness. Maybe I'm just getting to self-righteous with age and a bachelor's degree... i have a place in my heart for marc jacobs. But remind me of this post if I ever end up wearing any of his goods. Someone was talking recently about how the modern religion is capitalism and they are so so right. Remember Giuliani's advice to New Yorkers following 9/11? Heh...

shortlisted

2006-02-28T22:30:00.000-05:00

After a week from hell (but a hell of my own making... problems in my life seldom amount to more than that) in early February scrambling to get an audio portfolio together the application amidst lots of schoolwork, unpaid research work and emotional turmoil, I got an e-mail today that made me very happy. I am currently shortlisted for the Peter Gzowski CBC radio internship (as one of the McGill candidates), even if my reference letters came in late, and, one of them was missing! I got the e-mail today requesting that I get the third reference in as soon as possible. How exciting.
In the words of Lucas from Empire Records: "In this life, there are nothing but possibilities".
I'm not quite sure what I will do if I am actually selected for this internship... I shouldn't really jump ahead of myself, as there is no guarantee that I will actually get it, but I've been planning to do so many things this summer, not least of which is going to the Philippines and hopefully also HK and Japan with Jameel, Amin and Steph. I also intended on being at home in Guelph. At the same time, this would be a tremendous opportunity... I'm so excited about whatever happens. I need to shake the conflicted feeling of my over-privileged self though-- this should not be a source of anxiety.

On another positive note, I'm reading this amazing novel that I'm supposed to have read entirely for tomorrow morning's seminar. All That We Long For by Dionne Brand is about second generation immigrant youth in Toronto. I spent a few days in Toronto over this past weekend with my family. The last/only time I lived in that city was as a baby in a highrise near Bloor and Spadina and that was only for 6 months. Reading about the city though just makes me so happy since I love big cities. And this book is just brilliant. Like in the way that White Teeth was brilliant. It just resonates. I'll post some juicy quotes from it soon.

Isang Mahal...

2006-02-20T00:26:00.000-05:00

...I've come to realize

that weekends are a beautiful thing indeed
roadtrips are one of the best ways to get to know people
that driving on the highway with a killer soundtrack that incorporates songs like "damn, i wish i were your lover" can make you feel nostalgia and hope for the future all at once
that the stretch of highway from Montreal to Ottawa holds so many memories
that people can move in and out of my life and immediate geography, but when their presence brings joy (no matter what), that distance will never alter those ties that brought us together in the first place

I'm graduating this year. Four years have passed in the batting of an eyelash and I've been flirting with the dream of being me, an entity, separate and whole, whatever that means. I feel like the whole encounter has been a series of calculations, beautiful coincidences and orchestrated happenings. These four years in Montreal would not have been what they were (and still are) without certain key events, chance meetings and friendships that were formed. What is truly remarkable in my mind is that virtually everything has worked out for the best, in my favour, and with results beyond what I ever could have expected as an 18-year-old going off on her own (so to speak) for the first time. Generally I feel inspired to write more when I'm down, the self-indulgence of the pubescent "pseudo-Goth" trip in traces I suppose. But right now It's all love... just in a fantastically good mood. Definitely not complaining.

Amin drove Steph, Rahima and I into Montreal from Ottawa this evening. This was after a weekend of birthday fun and the reunification of a certain Quebecoise with her homeland.
Driving into cities at night has always been something I enjoy. Every time I leave or come into Montreal now, I think about how I'll be leaving soon. From Pont Champlain everything looks so gorgeous and quiet and alive at night. Idyllic in its own way for my smalltown-bred imagination.

skyscraper skyscraper
scrape me some sky

... i fell asleep writing this post, i awoke in the middle of the night, lights on, and my laptop close to my face on the futon. the ending lines are from my favorite poem by Dennis Lee. What can I say? I'm in a terribly cheesy mood, but I feel blessed to have the people I happen to have in my life.

for the moment (or, "i want a tan")

2006-02-18T03:34:00.000-05:00

My man's in Thailand and I miss him. It's been barely three days.... and I don't usually miss people when they're gone. Is that pathetic? Did I mention that he'll be back soon, in barely two weeks?
But just as one angel is across the ocean... another one has landed back in the motherland. Steph is back from Japan for a mere week, but I'm already school-girl super excited. The icey February chill has commenced once more and I'm just dreaming of warmer climates, golden brown skin and humidity. Welcome back my favorite babae na malakas.... like I said, Montreal misses you, and she needs you back, if for just a short while.

Eugoogley

2006-02-09T19:13:00.000-05:00

Google Chat came out this week, and I don't know why I feel particularly compelled to write about it, because really, this will just serve as PR for the company I believe will be able to slay the Microsoft Giant, but here goes. So google just might revolutionize the way we think, write and live our lives. By making everything infinitely searchable, anyone who has a google mail account can easily wonder why it isn't possible to google the rest of your life-- call up the appointments that you may have forgotten during the day, the song whose lyrics you've forgotten, the best route to that movie theatre in Hull that you want to go to---(inside joke, which, in actuality proved that Google Maps is NOT the best, but I digress). Basically the google people have discovered the key to our souls--- those of the technologically addicted anyway. I mean, give us an inbox with infinite possibilities for storage (ok, so 2 GB is not that big when compared to the Ipods many of us are carting around, but i'm sure immense storage is not too far into the future for gmail); a way to locate practically anything on the internet and our home computers, including photos, maps, satellite imagery, and misnamed files; and now a way to chat to our closest friends without leaving the comfort of our e-mail interface--- google now is one of the most powerful tracking devices in the entire world.

Recently the company bowed to the Chinese government's demands that it censor the web search engine, while simultaneously refusing the American government access to its files which might compromise its users safety. Meanwhile it is also in talks with Dell to integrate its software with newly packaged computers....

Big Google is Watching. And all we can do is hope that we buy the stock early enough.

the king stays on his own colour

2006-02-07T23:48:00.000-05:00

Jameel and I played chess together for the first time this weekend. I hadn't played in years and he hadn't played ever. But it got me thinking about some other stuff this evening...

Regardless of the strategy, the opposition of the pieces and the squares they occupy might as well be a grid mapped out on the entire world. Not in perfectly measured squares but in regions that are subdivided along cities, neighborhoods, streets, buildings and rooms and occupations contained within. This evening I went to a dinner at my boss' house, which was meant to welcome some new students into the program that I work at. They are students from the Middle East, who are here, in part to pick up skills on how to build bridges and learn from each other in an environment outside of "the conflict".

My co-worker and I arrived this evening to the upscale Outremont apartment, only to find another colleague of ours had been relegated to the kitchen, not been told whether or not she would be paid to get the food ready, set out the buffet and wash the dishes. Her husband had been hastily "invited" to the party minutes earlier by our supervisor, and she was clearly pissed off -- but of course, grinning and bearing it. The living/dining area was filled with white, older people--- with the exception of five of the seven students who were being welcomed, two token brown people and three other work-study students who are my colleagues. To the people outside, it became painfully apparent to Y and I how the situation would be perceived. The beautifully catered kosher meal was being served by a "hired" black woman. Never mind that she is a master's student in social work, or that she has a family or that she is an employee of the university as an administrative assistant (not kitchenhelp).

Y and I helped out in the kitchen, and both tried to get our older co-worker out to mingle with the others, where she belonged. Then we sat and ate together. The Israeli Consul General bade us goodbye and shook our hands. I smiled and said bye-- as thoughts of kitchens and apartheid danced in my head. Later on, an older woman approached me, (probably mistaking me for one of the Middle East students) and asked me, "So what are you going to do when you go back to your country?". When you go back to your side of the board, because you don't look like me... so clearly you don't quite belong here.

I don't want to sound melodramatic. Clearly my experiences of racism are nothing and "pale" in comparison to most others. But at the same time, sometimes I just want to scream out, Stop looking at my brown face and my chinky eyes and assuming things!

On a more positive note, during my Middle Eastern film class today, the professor asked me if I could translate a line in the movie (thank goodness I was watching the subtitles at that point... hahaha!) from Farsi. I was so shocked she was asking me that I turned around and said, "Are you asking me?". Then again, the shock at being correctly identified as Iranian was nice in contrast to the two times earlier this week when I'd been stopped by complete strangers in the street who felt compelled to speak to me for the first time in their lives with the words "Are you Chinese?"... and when I answer in the negative, followed by the inevitable "Vietnamese? Japanese?"....

No, no, and no. you'll never guess. And I don't think I feel like playing this game with you, since I don't know you, there's not enough strategy for it to be challenging.

threads

2006-01-09T19:20:00.000-05:00

where do we go when our heads are elsewhere and our hearts are bursting with the things that we consider to make ourselves human?
there's a place in my left ventricle for you.
and one also in my lung.
when the words cease to flow from my mouth, i'll come find you there.
in a dream of crimson and fresh air.
and i may grow to tell you that rent in those places won't come cheap, but if you cross my chest and tiptoe in with me, hand-in-hand, perhaps we can both live there
for free.

[photographer: jameel]

Pocket Rocket

2006-01-03T19:06:00.000-05:00

In with the new and out with the old. With the rest of the cliches that come with the beginning of the new year, I can't help but wonder what the best way to usher in 2006 will be. On the list of resolutions/expectations/goals/pipe dreams:

getting back into yoga and going to a yoga class
being more organized and keeping the floor of my bedroom visible
being less neurotic
be better at keeping in touch with the people who matter to me most
procrastinate... less.

Feel free to hold me to these rather modest goals. Now that I've written them down I feel like Oprah would be proud. If I were more imaginative I would have something up here like Mark's list of 100 things to do "before I die".
I've been back in Montreal for a few days now. Home was wonderful, relaxing and warm. My hometown has this inexplicable power to draw me in, making me not want to let go of that cocoon of familiarity. The cocoon of family that envelops me as soon as I walk through the door of our home.
At the same time, when I return to Montreal, I wonder how I could ever possibly leave the big city without missing it terribly.

In other news: to fulfill my McGill/Urbanite-wannabe requirements, I purchased a cell phone over the holidays. I love new toys, so much fun. Next on the list... digital camera, i-pod, star trek like headset and accessories for the aforementioned mobile, and a hover board!

home sweet home

2005-12-19T21:37:00.000-05:00

A warm place to rest my head, a sibling to tease and yummy food in my belly... what more could I ask for? It's good to be back home.

I went to the dentist today, an occurrence which always seems to coincide with my treks back to this province, and for the first time in over 20 years, I had a cavite. The dentist's goofy double monacles over his glasses that he donned when he started to work on the filling made him look like a sadistic anime scientist-- his blue surgical gloves matched the blue anesthetic syringe. It must have been a fun day for him, since he's been staring into my mouth for a good 17 years now and hasn't found any reason for fillings (or anything else scary like root canals) until today. Call me stupid, but the most interesting part of the whole experience for me was learning that the purpose of a dental dam actually has its origins in dentistry.

floating on

2005-12-14T01:30:00.000-05:00

there's something beautiful about the stuff that makes you laugh until you cry
and the person who can make you laugh so you stop crying.

something humbling about being in the presence of those who you respect.
there's something... about dancing in the rain.
something to be said for knowing that there are people you love in this world.
something about knowing that even if you feel powerless, there's a way through with a power that knows no bounds. perhaps because you've witnessed others who've it done before in different ways...

there's something about
the joy of a raindrop
and its sorrow in a swamp*

there's something about possibility
and loss

and knowing that if you take things as they come, it could swallow you whole...
and that just might be okay.

*from Esmail Khoi's "Sketch 1", a poem reflecting on the Iranian Revolution

That just came out of nowhere.... and came out a lot more depressed-soundng than I intended. I was inspired by the quote in the book that I'm reading for a thirty page paper I'm (supposed to be) writing. I mostly just like the quote... heh...

something about the snowfall

2005-12-11T22:13:00.000-05:00

i could sleep all day in your arms
for a calm awakening
under the moon

we would venture outside
and breathe in the cold
blowing kisses to see your breath
and mine

a cold nose
against my cheek
and the dusty white hush of the winter city
in our ears

"oh my starry eyed surprise"

2005-12-06T22:52:00.000-05:00

The December 6th Memorial commemorates the anniversary of the Montreal Massacre, which happened 16 years ago and ended in the killing of 14 female engineering students at L'Ecole Polytechnique in Montreal. The killer, Marc Lepine killed them specifically because they were women, in a place that he thought unfit for women to be: the engineering school. Lepine decried "feminists" before he shot the 14 women and then himself. December 6th is also a national day of action in Canada to combat violence against women.

SACOMSS holds a memorial every year, this was the second one that I had been to. There are always two speakers, one student and one professor. Then this year, as last year, there was a performance by a choir (Tonal Ecstasy) and a dance troupe (Inertia Dance Collective). Rosemary and her crew performed acapella: Everyone's Free (by Quindon Tarver) and Let Go (by Frou Frou). The speakers this year took a more impersonal angle then previous years. They chose to talk about the activism and organizing that has resulted over the past 16 years following the killings on December 6th. They talked about organizations and campaigns spawned after the massacre. People working for change in Ghana, inspired in part by Canadian December 6th actions to hold an annual event on the same day to combat domestic violence.

I wasn't expecting it, but I felt very moved by the whole vigil. That's the point really. But sometimes it can be easy to get somewhat blase about the whole thing--- if you study theory and look at issues of sexual assault from an analytic standpoint on a fairly regular basis. But then, when you consider something as horrible as a person walking into a university classroom and killing all the women simply because he hated the women for being women, and you think about how many people have violence inflicted upon them day in and day out. And the number of violations that people endure, and then continue to live their lives, enriching this world and filling others lives with joy.

It just fills me with horror, then awe and above all, respect for all the strong people that I've been fortunate to cross paths with.

[on a completely unrelated note: if you can get your hands on a copy of Paul Oakenfold's track "Starry Eyed Surprise", it just might be the pick-me-up you've been looking for]

If you feel like gettin' your study on tonight...

2005-12-01T23:54:00.000-05:00

McLennan Library is filled with women. Beautiful, young, nubile women. If you like Ugg Boots, ass-hugging "yoga" pants, low riding sweat pants, hair styled at Salon Tonic, and perfect breasts. Come join me. It's a wild time.

And mighty distracting when you're trying to write a paper for a feminist political theory course. How I love my higher education. Don't get me wrong, women should dress how they want, and I shouldn't really judge. But [wo]man, why are the gender ratios at this school so ridiculously skewed?

Revenge of the Robotsaurus

2005-12-01T01:01:00.000-05:00

Yoshimi - get out the big guns... because the Robot Expo is here. And damn are those machines looking fine.

apologies for the recent lack of fruitful posting. the videos are therapeutic after hours spent studying, i hope you will enjoy them as i do ;)

A Reason To Love a White Boy...

2005-11-29T00:53:00.000-05:00

This kills me. It's beautiful. The colours are the same as my bedding. The paint and the bombing effects are brilliant. The song is catchy. The rapper is white... and so is his MP3 player. Obviously I need an I-Pod now.

Check it out and fall in love

Just Like Heaven (TM)

2005-11-24T21:18:00.000-05:00

It's official: Estee Lauder owns a piece of my soul. There's one similarity between the Philippines and Iran other than the two countries' third world status, heavy traffic and air pollution that sticks in my mind. It's the scent of goleh mariam (Mary's flower directly translated) and sampaguita. Both two different kinds of white flowers that give off very similar scents that are akin to jasmine.

Sampaguita is grown in the Philippines and is often strung into garlands and sold on the street by children. We used to buy them and hang them on the cross and the Mama Mary figurine in my Lolo and Lola's bedroom when I was little. After Lolo died we put the garlands on his urn (also in the bedroom, located near the Mama Mary).

Goleh Mariam is found in Iran and I first encountered it in Abadan two years ago, when we were buying a bouquet for Bibi's grave. The first thing we noticed was how much it smelled like sampaguita.

Beyond Paradise is a perfume which its makers describe as:

An intoxication of the senses. The new fantasy in fragrance transports you to a perfect world of optimism and wonder. Unfolds on your skin with a fascinating blend of tropical wetness, zesty freshness and a burst of floralcy.

But for me its reminder of warmer places and good people, which is why this evening I felt compelled to duck in from the snow on ste-catherine to La Baie's perfume section to spray it on my wrists and then walk right out.

mmmm......

Notes to Self: 11 am

2005-11-23T14:00:00.000-05:00

Lessons learned: Driving on ice is a bad idea in a car, and an even worse idea on a bicycle.

Videos to Rent: Winter Cycling Basics from the QPIRG library

[...at least for once I had a viable excuse for being late for work.]

Reach Out and Touch Someone

2005-11-21T21:19:00.000-05:00

This post is about a week late, given that I was on Parliament Hill job shadowing MP Marlene Jennings last Tuesday. However, I had some of my own naive little epiphanies since that experience that have made me think a lot more and have contextualized things a bit more. In other words, things are always more complex than they seem. Obvious statement to make but nonetheless...

First off, about my two days on Parliament Hill. I was participating in the Women in House program which is run through the Poli Sci Students Association at McGill. I was really excited about the opportunity to spend two days on Parliament Hill. On Monday we did a tour of Parliament, met Minister of International Cooperation Aileen Carroll, had a panel discussion with MPs Libby Davies (NDP) and Lynne Yelich (Conservative) and attended question period. These activities in themselves were inspiring-- I loved seeing these women with such different political views and backgrounds talking about what it's like to be a woman in politics and how they respectively thought it best to bring about what they believe in through the political system. The panel discussion was particularly interesting since Davies and Yelich speak from polar opposite points of view.
The other women (almost wrote girls there... oops!) in the program were also really great. Mostly very opinionated as Poli Sci students tend to be. While waiting for our security checks on the first day with one of the other participants, I leaned over and said to her, "I don't remember anyone's name any more"
"Yeah, me neither. They all look the same except us"
Thank god for brown people. haha.

The second day, I met up with Marlene Jennings at 8:45 am. She was finishing a cigarette outside the East Block, when I arrived. She brought me to her office where we chatted a bit and then proceeded to go to two standing committee meetings, a debate in the house, lunch, question period and then two meetings with lobbyists. I loved the constant "busyness" of the day, the improvising and running from one task to another. This would probably get old real fast if one were actually in that job, but I found it interesting and exciting. As much as I was cynical and skeptical about the official political system coming in to the program, I left it with a newfound respect for what politicians do. With Marlene at least, she appeared to really care about her job and about putting her own ideas into action. She went out of her way to answer my questions and to explain stuff to me even when I didn't ask her about it. She also would get really excited when talking about things that she cared about and didn't hesitate to express her personal opinions on issues--- which I really respect. When I asked her if she thought the current political system worked well, she acknowledged that policies she would want to see didn't always get put in place exactly how she would have wanted the to be, but that she thought the system was good. At one time Marlene was in solidarity with black students protesting institutional racism at Concordia-- the methods used there were not your conventiona l lobbying tactics, which is why I asked her if she thought the system was effective. Of course, there were some elements of the traditional politician there, but she was really great. Maybe one day I can get to know her well enough to discuss her involvement with Canadian Parliamentary Friends of Israel (of which she is a member). I felt the Declaration of Human Rights conspicuous on the wall in the corner of her office. heh...
The weirdest part about the whole parliamentary "experience" that I had was Don Boudria asking me if one of my parents was "oriental"... that was great, haven't been called one of those in a while, but anyway--- he won't be around much longer in politics anyway ;)

***
On Saturday I went to a reading of Teesri Duniya's adaptation of Kafka's The Trial. It was a benefit for Justice for Adil Charkaoui, an advocacy group that is working to free Adil and four other men who have been held on security certificates. The reading interspersed The Trial with the accounts of the five men's experiences--- for a chilling and heartbreaking effect. The Trial is absolutely terrifying on its own, and these men are actually living it.

I knew about security certificates and the the situation was bad, but I didn't realize that the people being held are NOT charged with any crime, don't know the evidence that is being used against them and that some of them have been in detention, solitary confinement for years! I won't get into too much detail here, however, at the reading, Adil Charkaoui, who's been recently released on "bail" (still without charge), was able to read, but was forced to leave at intermission so as not to violate his curfew. The RCMP and the police were waiting for him outside so that they could arrest and deport him if he happened to stay to read for the rest of the play. All this anyway, just to say that I felt so angry and appaled that the Canadian government was letting this go on--- our own maple leaf branded Guantanamo. And no one in Parliament seems to be doing anything about it.

I'm SO angry.

***

By far one of the stranger occurences in my Montreal existence... I was biking home from a screening at the International Documentary Film Festival, Sunday (which was taking place just around the corner in my house), and I was shivering because my fleece wasn't warm enough for the cold wind that had just developed. While stopped at a corner, I must have looked slightly pathetic because this guy in a huge fur coat (think like SabreTooth in the X-Men movie), walks up to me and is like, "Es-tu froid?", I nodded. And then he took my hands to warm them up between his own. For some reason I didn't take my hands away because I thought his coat was so comical-- it was like so out of a movie or something. And then he was like, oh your hands aren't that cold (which they weren't of course because I had just come out of a warm movie theatre). He smiled and walked off in his massive fur coat. It was very very odd. Letting strangers take my hands though... maybe not such a good idea. ah well...

Job Offer: Speech Writer

2005-11-12T16:18:00.000-05:00

No good sitcom will play a rerun within a month of the first airing.

Abu Aardvark explains .

Thursdays are Always Busy

2005-11-11T04:19:00.000-05:00

10:00-11:30 am : talked about porn in my feminist political theory class. had the teacher ask me what i knew about condom useage in porn because, as she told me, "it seems you have maybe done more research into this than i have"

11:30 am-1:00 pm: work in computer lab and get 3 page assignment done - focus on the role of women as depicted in various cultures and in varying roles of power in The Travels of Ibn Battuta - the medieval Islamic mystic. skip the multiple accounts of singing slave girls to talk about the daughter of the magistrate who rules an Indonesian island and has ambitions to conquer India.

1:00 pm: escape from computer lab with Connor. scope out some girlies peddling Mastercard t-shirts with a game involving bananas and a scale. convince them to give us the t-shirt "prize", but don't get any free bananas.

1:10 pm : eat at Al Taib Express - marvel at the ugliness of Gert's.

1:50 pm: Connor leaves, Faiz magically appears. We sit some more and talk about all the MuchVibe videos that are inescapable on the many screens in our hallowed campus bar. wonder why there aren't any that are as good as the roots' "what they do".

2:25 pm: Leave Al Taib, witness the first (brief) snow fall and go outside.

2:45 pm: I bike to Concordia for my class... slip in and out of consciousness as the rest of the class discusses Ibn Battuta.

4:00 pm: ride back to school and start reading policy papers on Israeli disengagement from the West Bank.

6:00 pm: attend a talk by Marieme Helie-Lucas, Algerian sociologist and co-founder of Women Living Under Islamic Laws. enjoy her focus on the diversity of islamic thought and laws, her emphasis on the fact that personal status laws for women are often used by governments to consolidate power and also for the state's own political goals (rather than for anything inherently "religious"). not so excited about her vehement call for secularism.... but her talk was very, very important and her views need to be heard more often.

7:30 pm: eat copious amounts of baba ghannoush, japanese fresh spring rolls, pita chips, vegetables and tzatziki, cookies (chocolate chip and sugar), and samosas, at the wine and cheese following Helie-Lucas talk. discuss gender, state consolidation, and women's rights with Sarah, Tamreez, Natalie and her friends. feel smart and informed thanks to sexy rexy's readings.

[Skip SACOMSS meeting I'm supposed to go to in favour of good conversation and catered food]

8:40 pm: take President Kennedy and enjoy the quiet streets and the light filled office towers against the night sky. ride past jello bar and seeing the marquee realize that it's jojoflores' birthday which means a year ago today, Jameel brought me there so that Steph (and Alistair) and i could see k-os perform.

9:00 pm: get home and discover two sentence e-mail from a certain someone which makes my heart melt.

outside the bubble

2005-11-10T03:18:00.000-05:00

It's 1:20 pm, people are milling about all around me, talking to friends, heading to the cafeteria for lunch and taking naps on sofas. It's crowded, busy and warm. Periodically a loudspeaker blares out messages in French or English asking someone to pick up a line or to meet someone on the second floor. Most people are wearing black --- hoodies, tights, skirts, pants --- varying degrees of "punk"/counterculture/the "great unwashed", whatever you want to call it, but this was not everyone there. I meet Gretchen a few minutes later. I'm here to do Mini Disc recording workshops for CKUT. It's seems like a regular lunch hour at any high school, but this isn't a high school. We're at the Dans La Rue Day Center. Dans La Rue is Montreal's only non-gender segregated organization for homeless youth. The Day Center is not a shelter (they have that elsewhere), but it provides meals, classes, an art room, a computer room, counselling, free telephones and other activities for youth during the day. They also have a free vet service one a month where people can have their pets checked out.

It's easy for me, a 22-year old university student on her way to a Political Science degree to romanticize the situation of the people at Dans La Rue. In fact I'm torn about how to write about this experience without sounding a like a self-congratulatory bourgeois asshole. So with that caveat in mind, here's what I thought.

I was a little nervous at first, the Dans La Rue volunteer agreement talks about, among other things, being aware of syringes and not touching (moving or picking up) the belongings of anyone else, just in case there are sharps in bags or clothing. I also have never really interacted with any young people who I perceive as significantly different from myself, and I wondered how receptive the people at Dans La Rue would be to the MiniDisc workshops. The program had been run last year, so it wasn't entirely new... but my insecurities remained.
It was an incredibly positive experience. There was the tall kid who asked me straight off where I was from (immediately after he had revealed to Sara- the other volunteer- and I that in addition to English and French he spoke Spanish and Creole); there was another girl who seemed shy but said that she had done the MD recording last year when CKUT came in. There was the Anglo who was eager to talk politics, and revealed that when the twin towers fell he watched the news in jail. There was the girl who earnestly read the spot for the homelessness marathon and asked when we'd be there again, I only noticed later that she was pregnant. I ascribe these characteristics to these people knowing little beyond this about them.

There was also the on the floor the whole time as people chattered excitedly, dragged chairs, amidst the seeming chaos, sleeping, a mass of black hoodie, and only when the day center closed at 3:30 was he awakened and asked politely to leave with everyone else.

For me it was a lot of fun. 2 hours sped by and there seemed to be a lot of interest, far more than we were expecting anyway as an announcement over the ever crackly and loud intercom system had been made rather late. All I can say is, I'm excited to return in two weeks.

weekend (wēk'ĕnd')

2005-11-07T02:55:00.000-05:00

[apologies in advance to the high sugar content of the following post]

What a beautiful one it was. A total reaffirmation of how lucky I am to live my life with the people and circumstances I get to enjoy. Tender moments of caring affection and the gift of trust.

Jameel came back to Montreal for the first time since he started working in Ottawa. This past week was pretty packed with school stuff, Eid celebrating, and anticipation for Friday 7 pm. Tonight we had dinner with Faiz, Rachel, Connor and Kathryn, warmed by the hominess of Jardin de Cari in Mile End, good conversation and of course, hot sauce on phenomenal rotis. After two years of being used to Jameel's presence in this city it was strange to part ways after only two days. But my perma grin remains.

We're luxurious like Egyptian cotton
We're so rich in love...*

*Lyrics from "Luxurious" (Gwen Stefani)... with thanks (for her tacky song), the Thievery Corporation, and 1507

Whitey Don't Like You

2005-11-02T02:04:00.000-05:00

I've been dying to write about race issues here for some time--- there are so many little anecdotes just waiting to be told. In the mean time, here is something to feed your inner Fanon. Now, I must get back to my Gender and the Middle East literature review.

Rosa Parks (In Memory Of)
In December 1955, she refused to give up her seat on the bus to a white man. Her act of civil disobedience would ignite the civil rights movement with the 381-day bus boycott by blacks, and it continues to serve as a great example to those who wish to fight racism-- and yet, I still feel as though I know so little about her. Rosa Parks died on Monday October 24th. She was 92.

The Village Voice recently published this article, reflecting on the relevance of boycott tactics on Ms. Parks' passing. An excerpt:

Thanks to the Daily News' beyond-fabulous sepia-tone mug-shot memorial cover, Parks, the bespectacled seamstress–NAACP activist of 1955, is now officially a Thug Immortal, the original ride-or-die chick. So gangsta, so About The Black, she moved all the way to roughneck Detroit as Montgomery fast turned life-threatening. The News' cover choice has upset some in the cult-nat ranks, but I applaud it lest we forget the freedom road is paved with jailed revolutionaries and that liberation rhymes with incarceration when not death. Tain't but a hop, skip, and a jump from Parks to Angela and Assata on the FBI Most Wanted lists. And unlike the women of the Weather Underground who had to blow some shit up to get there, all these Black women had to do to register as threats to kracka supremacy was to make a federal case out of saying No.

sticking it to the press and the naysayers

2005-10-28T04:42:00.000-04:00

On Spitfiyah this month we did a show on women of colour in politics in Canada, over the course of our research, we found some pretty interesting stuff...

The new Governor General of Canada, Michaelle Jean has had to take a lot of flack, as a relative unknown, but most of all because of how people view her race. However at the Parliamentary Press Gallery Dinner this past weekend, she blasted the opposition in a hilariously biting way. Oh, and former PM Brian Mulroney also told some guy to F*** himself. Make sure you watch the videos.
Scroll down a bit on the right side of the page, you'll see the video clip of the new GG's speech. She's my new hero.

Life in Plastic, So Islamic...

2005-10-28T04:10:00.000-04:00

With the arrival of Fulla , Barbie's Middle-Eastern Muslim counterpart, it is now possible for little Muslim girls (and boys!) to have a pint-sized, praying sister to play house with. On the not-so recent heels of "Muslim-friendly" versions of other originally Western products like Mecca Cola (though it remains if she will be as politically aware), Fulla is quickly replacing Barbie's pink bust and permanently high-heel molded feet, with her full-length abaya and matching headscarves. Created by Syrian-based company New Boy, Fulla has been flying off the shelves from Morrocco to Iraq. She also comes with a range of other clothing, but according to the manufacturers, little Fatima will have to make sure that Fulla is only seen wearing her more fashionable outfits (like her full length pink skirt), indoors. Not only can Fulla pray and observe modest dress, but she can also complete any child's Iraqi battlefield set. Get her to play house with a few of her friends, bring out your Desert Storm GI Joe's, and let the liberating begin!

Check out this Globe and Mail article (I don't know how long the link will be stable) for more.

(Conference of the Wet Pigeon)

2005-10-25T05:14:00.000-04:00

It's official: the rain makes me self-indulgent and mopey.

Al-Attar tells me in beautiful poetry how selfish and materialistic we are.

And now it's time for me to get over it-- and also everything else that is beyond my control.

Goodnight Moon
Goodnight Mush
Goodnight Old Lady whispering "hush..."

....sweet dreams....

Sunday Afternoon

2005-10-24T04:07:00.000-04:00

The hoopoe answered her: 'Your life is passed
In vague, aquatic dreams which cannot last -
A sudden wave and they are swept away.
You value water's purity, you say,
But is your life as pure as you declare?

Sipping sweet chai latte foam for hours
safe from the rain that falls gently on saint laurent
Leah walks by and she gives me a kiss through the window pane
French, English and Spanish fill the air
(of this warm nicotine pomegranate)
Mostly emanating from older men
One family, and some younger pairs who love each other

with their frequent cigarettes
they fight wars of black and white
Sometimes strategy rewarded in stacatto exclamations of "Oooh Maestro!"
Laughter and anticipation of the certain death of a monarch

Others hold serious silence broken only by the click of the timer
And the one in the corner is alone
surveying his own battlefield
The girls brewing the coffee know the soundtrack of my life and play it perfectly
from behind the counter

I chase after Debbie on her bicycle when I see her ride by
We sit at my table by the window
in matching red leather chairs
and she tells me that her Grandmother is dying - for real this time, as in:
it's only a matter of days now.

The Vice magazine she flips through while I read Farid Ud-Din Attar,
is all about gruesome imagery ,
titillating advertising, fake blood, and bad horror films.
She leaves, and I drink more tea - a tisane this time
No pretense. In the window looking pretty.

A fool described the nature both worlds share:
"The unseen world and that which we can see
Are like a water-drop which instantly
Is and is not. A water-drop was formed
When time began, and on its surface swarmed
The world's appearances. If they were made
Of all-resisting iron they would fade;
Hard iron is mere water, after all -
Dispersing like a dream, impalpable".'

Italics excerpted from The Conference of the Birds by Farid Ud-Din Attar, translated by Afkham Darbandi and Dick Davis.

P.O.P. 10%

2005-10-20T21:20:00.000-04:00

The sun decided to make an appearance today-- for the first time in at least a week (or so it feels like anyway). Still I was feeling a bit down, so I indulged in a haircut. The haircut was also meant to distract me from the homestretch before sundown when I get to eat. Today was Day 4 of my "renewed interest in Islam". Ha! Pretty funny, considering I love food so much. I don't think I've done four days in a row in years. To be honest I feel like I'm in a dream-like state towards the late afternoon. I feel connected and disconnected at the same time (maybe there's a glitch in the Matrix). The strangest thoughts have been crossing my head on an empty stomach.

***
McGill had its fall convocation today. I didn't see any of the actual "convocating", save for a bunch of people in their gowns (some with really goofy hats-- the Ph.D's I suspect) toting their huge diplomas by Place Des Arts Metro in the late afternoon.

My Concordia prof explained in class the other day that "Baccalaureate" means "permission" in Latin. Strange how you need someone to give you permission to follow through on your dreams--- or ( more likely) just to get a job that is meant to sustain you materially.
***

my soma

2005-10-20T05:35:00.000-04:00

I really should be sleeping right now. But instead I'm spending this morning, first watching madonna videos on mtv.com and then k'naan and MIA on the muchmusic site.

funny how that calms me down. what's your soma?

[galang galang... galang galang]

Alif, Ba, Ta....

2005-10-17T13:36:00.000-04:00

The United States has had a rather antagonistic relationship and negative image in the Middle East now for decades, and so, it is still rather shocking that the government hasn't beefed up their diplomacy efforts with staff that can actually communicate and speak the language of the region. Not only are there few "Western" academics and "Middle East specialists" who speak Arabic beyond a few key phrases and political terms, but the people on the ground lack the ability to communicate with the population that surrounds them. Painful indeed. But, unfortunately, a prime example would be (now long gone) Paul Bremer "Civil Administrator" in Iraq--- a fluent Dutch speaker, but who knew nary a word in Arabic.

This Washington Post article is great, outlining exactly what is wrong with the way the American government is going about training their diplomats in the Middle East.

So... which to hone first: Arabic or the infinitely easier Farsi???

Totally Tunic Tiffany Goes to Hair School...

2005-10-07T05:21:00.000-04:00

My research paper will explore the changing roles of women in Iranian politics.

This following piece of writing however, will explore the changing modes of procrastination employed by this half-Iranian woman in avoiding writing the proposal for the originally mentioned research paper.

I
Shopping

I bought one of those "Bum Shirts" today at Garage clothing of all places- you know, one of those long t-shirts that covers the bum that's is meant to be layered with another shirt or a long tanktop. I've become one of "those" people, in those trendy tight shirts. haha! The printing on the inside, in gold lettering reads: "Totally Tunic!". So sexy....

II
Last Day of SACOMSS Training

It's not exactly procrastination, since it served a purpose on its own and was quite satisfying. G, Julia and bunch of other outreachers enjoyed the last gasps of this Indian summer afterwards, with cool drinks (pina coladas, smoothies and daiquiris) on the terasse at Coaster's afterwards. Also the last day of training involves the Superstar activity, which always is a big ego massager.

III
Hair Styling

For the first time since first year, I gave Nora an impromptu trim, complete with wispy layers - to even out the back of her hair.

IV
Dreams of being Carmen (Hey... at least Sarah Shahi is a descendant of the Shah- research I say, research!)

One reason I've taken so bloody long to write a lousy 4 page paper proposal (apart from the fact that my graduate seminar still intimidates me), is my new found desire to play DJ in my room with my Winamp playlist. Stuff you should listen to:

1. K'naan - I went to the show last week. I'm officially in love. And if you haven't heard him before, or you have and don't own "The Dusty Foot Philosopher" go out and by it. Everyone says it: but he takes it to the next level.

2. Feist - Another artist from the soundtrack of my summer and now, my life. I love her soothing voice and insightful lyrics.

3. Manu Chao

4. Cibo Matto - specifically the song "sugar water" - everything else is even more quirky, but "sugar water" is hypnotic and calming, as though you were drinking, uh, sugar water. also the video is beautiful.

5. M.I.A. - hello browness, pop political Tamil Tigress. She's hot, she's brown and she's soooo brown - not bollywood beautiful brown, but as someone commented to me she's beautiful in a "brown-brown" kind of way "not watered down or mixed race". and someone else said: "she's refugee brown". heh... big up to the brown.

6. Arcade Fire - anyone who knows me will laugh at this one, since I've been a cold-hearted pretentious bitch with regards to this band for the past 3 years, and now that I don't see their lead singer in the architecture cafe anymore, I've decided that I like them. Everyone else was right in the first place, what can I say?

7. Everything But the Girl - just cause.

I was gonna do 10, but now i'm tired.
****

Tomorrow I embark on a road trip with 4 fellow females from my hallowed post-secondary institution. We're going to Ontario for Thanksgiving. I'm going home, and I can't wait. Also, it will be cool to have folks from school visiting my hometown and to show them around.

Apparently we're not having the Turducken anymore and my aunt has opted for the traditional alternative, and as such mama has put her in charge of procuring the kind of bird that she (my mother)refuses to cook. I can't wait for stuffing. Steph, you have many photos of my multiracial family participating in this celebration of colonization in our most holy of religious months. Oh the postmodernity of it all (oh wait, I think we're just culturally confused) - don't get me started about how we celebrate christmas.

Alright, well, that was number V. Perhaps I will actually go to sleep now.

Happy Ramadan to you too!

2005-10-05T14:37:00.000-04:00

It's that time of year again--- the holy month of fasting for Muslims and for me, the month where I try for a week and then usually give up. But, this year, like all years before, I say to myself: "It's going to be different". Ha! I actually had thoughts of satan in my head this morning, me, secular being that I am, had gotten up to eat and pray, and then... . And then, oh horrible irony, just as I was about to crawl back into bed, waves of nausea began to set in. Suddenly I felt closer to the toilet bowl than I did to God--- though I rationalized it as being my own fault for not trying to be holy sooner.

That being said, once I feel better, I will try again to fulfill at least some sort of religious duty this month--- and try and keep my French toast in my stomach, where it belongs. I don't really know why i ultied this morning, perhaps my body just wasn't used to eating at that hour. So frustrating.

***

I've got a paper proposal to write-- something about women in Iran and politics. I'm excited about the paper, but don't quite know where to go. I'll post some more about it soon, if it looks like it will interesting.
I don't have much to write this morning. Things have been moving quite quickly- between school, SACOMSS training and work. I have to say though: spontaneity is a great thing, and having ready access to transport makes it even better. I went to Ottawa this weekend and chilled with Jameel, who is now with Canadian Friends of Burma(!!!). I'm going home this weekend and can't wait to chill with the family, while we stuff our faces with Tur-Duck-en (the tasty amalagmation of turkey, duck and chicken that my mother insists on ordering since she is vehemently anti-turkey--- don't ask).

****

Since I'm not that great at updating this place, perhaps you may be interested in some other people who are:
Abu Aardvark is great for all your Middle East political geeky needs: http://abuaaardvark.typepad.com

All for now...

Things That Make Me Laugh

2005-09-19T23:44:00.000-04:00

1. The ATSA

Even if you hear about "social justice" or so-called "culture jamming" actions, I find it's rare that you actually get to see one in progress. This evening, after relishing an oh-so bourgeois/hipster dinner and study session at Euro Deli, I went to unlock my bike which was parked on Saint Laurent, directly in front of a teeming SUV. The SUV dwarfed, yet was conspicuously adorned with a parking ticket--- or rather a ticket courtesy of the civilian officers of the ATSA (Action Terroriste Socialement Acceptable) . The ticket "fined" the owners of the vehicle for "driving a vehicle that consumes more than 15 litres of gasoline per 100 kilometres" and was accompanied with a personal note in French asking "Si grand, si necessaire?". With gas prices in Montreal at $1.10 as of this morning, it proved a worthy question to be asked, whether from the pragmatic standpoint of both consumer and (radical) environmentalist. Before I rode away rather self-righteously I had the satisfaction of witnessing the uber-hip owner couple of the offending vehicle pick up their ticket. For more on the ATSA, check out this article.

2. Mad Hot Ballroom

In my best Ebert and Roeper parlance: "delightful, uplifting and a testament to the often understimated power of youth". This documentary about the annual ballroom dancing program and competition for New York City elementary school children gives insight into an educational, and rather unconventional program that introduces 10 and 11-year olds to the Rhumba, Swing, Merengue and Tango. The filmmakers chronicle the progress of three classes in Washington Heights, Tribeca and Manhattan on their road to the "Colours of the Rainbow" final. The protagonists of the film are incredibly articulate and charming, as they show off their excellent dance skills as well as their aspirations. Some of the greatest scenes occur when they are asked about their thoughts on the opposite sex, what they'd like to do when they grow up, and of course, what they think about ballroom dance. They come from a variety of backgrounds and reveal the class differences that exist in America. My favorite moment: stocky brothers Michael and Ronnie talking in their thick New York accents about how much they enjoy dancing, while playing foosball in the basement of their home with their buddies.

Go see it if you have the chance.

Everyone Loves a Surprise

2005-09-12T03:06:00.000-04:00

--especially me! Especially birthday surprises, which is exactly what I got on my birthday which was earlier this week. While I was busy whining to my friends, on my blog, and in my head about how much a I missed Jameel, he was really plotting to return to Montreal prematurely and show up at my house. Then as if that wasn't enough, the man took me out for a delicious dinner at "La Charactere Chinois" near Parc Lafontaine, and orchestrated a brilliant plan that had me returning to my home to find a party happening, complete with two cakes and 30 people in my living room.

Ah, he really knows how to massage my (not so tense) ego and give me exactly what I love.
For anyone who doesn't know me, birthdays for me, as an only child for ten years, meant that I adored--- heh, actually, adore --- being the center of attention on my birthday (or most days of the year for that matter). For the past two Septembers, Jameel has managed to do exactly that... tee hee.

Jameel left on Wednesday, sad, but I know I'll see him soon. Apart from the beautiful birthday, my week has been pretty filled with the usual early September/student life stuff. I've been seeing a lot of friends, partying it up as much as I can before the impending scholastic horror sets in. So I'm being dramatic, but one thing that separates this beginning of semester from my past three in university, is that I've read more course material in the past two weeks than I usually have read by the end of midterms. I guess I had to learn study habits at some point.

This weekend was beautiful. I worked on the sexual assault discussion manual, went to a party, and watched some new episodes of the L Word (yes, I'm a junkie, what can I say). Today was a perfect Sunday. Nora and I ate brunch at Connor's with close friends (there were spiral waffles, Lego, and a dollar-store toy nicknamed "The Boobie Grabber" involved---nothing kinky, don't worry). Then we watched Connor's roommate, Captain of the Varsity Rugby Team, kick the Sherbrooke team's ass. I've never watched a real live rugby game, so most of the time was spent commenting with fellow rugby-ignorant spectators on things like the knee socks of the opposing team and our wonder at how rugby players lift each other up by their shorts to block the ball, making them no longer shorts, but "manties". Yes, I am that mature. Don't ask me which birthday I just celebrated. We then met Debbie's mom, who she is just like, and I think that is a wonderful thing. Tam Tams was also in the cards as well as empanadas and a couple hours of reading coursepacks at Cafe Olympico....

All in all, I'm one happy camper.

On to other things: I haven't quite decided the direction of this blog yet, but I really aspire sometimes to be one of those hip, political bloggers one day. Maybe then university professors and media whores will quote me in their interactions and I will get a write up in the Village Voice. Now you know my real intentions in starting this water-metaphor-drenched virtual diary.

"ebb and flow"

2005-09-03T01:28:00.000-04:00

Two delightfully meaningful (at least upon my consultation of http://www.dictionary.com), one syllable words. Lately I've been noticing how people seem to move out of the immediate space of my life, while others appear or return at different intervals. Those who are close to us are like the makings of whirlpools-- family, friends, loved ones, co-workers, everyday faces. Sometimes the whirpool shifts and the contents, in whole or in part gets reshuffled, or spilled out, while others are let in. And we continue on, making new waves, ripples of good, bad, banal.

But who am I kidding... as I beat this water metaphor into the ground, I really just miss my boyfriend. And at the same time am happy that some of my good friends have returned home from their various school exchanges and travels to beautiful far-off places. I'm also celebrating the reconciliation and reintegration of those I, in the past, willingly booted out of my particular whirlpool and who, I'm happy to say, are swimming with me once again.

***

University and classes have become a part of the whirlpool all of a sudden too. I never wanted summer to end---heh, but who does really? I was finally accepted into the graduate seminar that has been the source of my academic wet dreams for a while now. It is shocking to sit in a seminar room with 16 other people around a single table when you are accustomed to the "factory of arts" that is a McGill undergraduate political science education. At least I knew about a third of the people in the room already--- like myself, eager undergraduate disciples of the "Sexy Rexy"-- the nerdy Middle East politics guru at McGill. Before this, a class with 79 other people was considered the most intimate. I'm looking forward to learning and exchanging ideas in university, in my final year. How exciting.

For now, it's Friday night. I'm sleepy, by myself, and I'm going to curl up with some blankets and watch some trashy TV (L word, anyone???). I've spent the evening formatting a manual on how to facilitate discussions on sexual assault with high school students-- a task that is fun (the discussions), but the mechanics (cutting and pasting in Word)of which are tedious. Perhaps I will elaborate on this at a later time.

[Carmen, where are you? It's Friday night and I believe we have a date--- don't tell Shane.]

***

[The Old Man Is Snoring]

2005-09-01T01:18:00.000-04:00

Today, a calming lull of rainfall cushioned my awakening to a buzzing cell phone alarm clock. The dull cloudy grey outside the large window contrasted with the cozy darkness of the bedroom on Parc Ave: the makeshift curtains, the navy blue of the futon against my body, the warmth of lingering cigarettes and my partner-in-crime who continued to sleep peacefully beside me.

The sky opened up sometime early this morning so a seemingly bilingual Katrina could work her magic from New Orleans all the way (in a much kinder incarnation) to Montreal. For me, it was an appropriate end to a beautiful summer. It was the kind of rain for dancing and bathing in--reminiscent of third world rainy seasons and days of revelling at Tam Tams.

***

Later in the day Faiz and I helped Jameel pack up his Montreal life for his return to Toronto. Jameel and I said goodbye (for now) under a umbrella.

And tomorrow is the first day of school...