Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Once in A While

It feels good to feel sick once in a while. It is good to stay home once in a while. It is good to spend the whole morning with my little girl and watch her explore and bounce to the tunes amid her nagging spouts.  It's good to watch a movie in the middle of a working day once in a while.


Thursday, September 25, 2014

Colors of My Life

I pulled up the blinds and watched the rain.  It was raining all night into the moment; an early cloudy morning with wet color-changing trees.

I am that fall tree.  Changing colors one leaf at a time but no two leaves are the same exact color.  Sometimes I am green, sometimes red; sometimes fresh, sometimes dry; sometimes lonely within the crowded branches, sometimes dancing on one branch all by myself.
I cherish this fall tree.
I am the only one in the office as early as I start in the morning.  I cherish it and I hate it at the same time.  I love the undivided time I get to work.  I get to finish a full day worth of work in the first 3 hours of the day.  I get to put on music and listen to it loud if I wish to.  I get a head start and that is highly valued in my charts.  I get to go home and be with my kids earlier than the rush of the evening commute. Yet, I hate it.  I don't appreciate how I need to go to bed early to be able to raise early in the morning.  I don't appreciate not being there when my little monsters get out of bed later after I left, all warm and cuddly and smelling like stale babies, my favorite kind of fragrance lately.
I am that fall tree.  Changing colors just a little every day.  I wish and I hope and I desire.  I want to be colorful yet I want to be fresh and living and I know this all will never coexist for too long.
I pick up my purse and walk to Kerri's cafe.  The most conveniently located cafe around with a kind looking lady manager who remembered my name just the second time I went there.  I ordered my mocha and veggie scramble and sat down despite my to-go order.  I watched the rain and the wet flowers and the colors of my life.  Then walked back to my fall tree.  Life is sometimes as simple as that.

Sunday, September 21, 2014

Salmon Fishing in Yemen (201?) Movie

"This project saved me" is what Harriet said after they swam in the man-made canal and before he, Dr Alfred Jones, asked if him and her were theoretically possible. Funny man this Dr Jones! I was disappointed by his married life with Mary. Of course before he showed her affection for Harriet; he was married to Mary. Mary, who didnt listen to him even when he was talking about his dreams of having a child. Mary, who after he made love to her said "that should do you for a while" and he thanked her! Mary, who broke the news of her 6 week business trip a day before her departure. Mary, who was so cold and self assured that didn't and couldn't satisfy his dream.  Mary, who allowed him and drove him to experience love when he found it, perhaps for the first time. Then, when he fell in love with Harriet, Mary, who got all jealous and mad.
The Sheikh in Yemen had praying beads between his fingers all the time. He prayed and even we heard him say the Quranic verses in his prayers during a scene. In this time and era, this was an extra ordinary movie showing some Muslims in positive lights.
There were some scenes when people spoke Arabic but I couldn't decipher a lot of it.  I'm not sure if they were actually speaking Arabic. Funny I was trying to understand what they said on the same day when I made an effort to speak Arabic! It was when I tried to help a poor old woman who didn't know how to find her gate on her way to Cairo and asked me on my passing. I said I didn't know in English and showed her the departure monitors on the other side of the salon then I saw her face drop. I thought she might not know English at all even to read Cairo. I turned around and motioned her to follow me. She quickly started scampering behind me while taking something out of her purse. Her boarding pass. OK. Cairo. 15:30. Found it. C33. "C33". And she responded in inaudible Arabic. "C thirty three" I repeated slowly.  Blank face. So I showed with three fingers "thirty" and closed and open the same three fingers "three". She smiled and said something but I was not confident she got what I said wondered if she thought C3. Suddenly I remembered I knew some Arabic! "Saales ashar saales". She quickly repeated "thalis 'ashar althalis". Yeah! We both smiled. I pointed her to C gates and walked away. Just followed her by eyes and last I saw she was on her way. I hope she found her gate fine! Enshala!

Wrong Feeling

I'm headed to a conference in another state and I feel the wrong feeling in my heart. My heart is heavy with agony of departure.  I crave hugging and smelling the tiny little body of my daughter and kissing the dimple on my son's face. I miss my kind and supportive husband.  I feel remotely excited about this trip, my first conference in this role. I know I will learn new stuff and I hope to meet new people and possibly recruit some advisors for the job.
But I have the wrong feeling.
I see that the days and weeks of my kids lives are passing and I'm not there to witness it. I wish I had other ambitions. I wish I could stay home with my kids and enjoy their lives.
I wish I had a good feeling right now.

Friday, September 5, 2014

The Woman Who Never Says Hi

Well, she never says hi back let alone saying hi in the first place.
She is a mom at A's school. Her son and mine have shared two out of four classes in the elementary school so far. Her son has come to my house for A's birthday and so did she. She knows me. But every time I say hi to her at school during pick up or drop off she never says hi back. I know she hears me because she looks into my eyes.  Today I said hi again to the same obnoxious look and pierced lips of hers. No response but a passing look. Then I thought to myself, this was the last time I said hi to this woman.
She is the only one who is so obviously irresponsive but she certainly is not the only one. I'm not sure what it is with some of these moms who seem afraid of communicating with people. I wonder if they feel too big or too little. In either case, I feel pity for them. Wish them grace!