The sweetest thing ever

A said tonight that he was glad I was his mom!

To all the brave women in my life

It was mother's/women's day in Iran today.
It is hard to believe that the girls of yesterday, that I was one, are the women of today. There is something truly magical though about shedding the girlish shell and growing to glow as a woman.
In my life, there has been, and are, several brave women who are very well aware of who they are; those who are not afraid to change their mind, who are not afraid of being ahead of their time, who can smile at any hardship in life and keep cool but can get totally animated too; changing the course of hardship. Those women who have been for me no matter what. I am proud of you all! Best on your day, and every day!

A perfect family

I wonder, what makes a perfect family? Pick your choices:

A couple
A man and a woman
A son
A daughter
A son and a daughter
Two sons
Two daughters
Three or more kids (any combination of sons and daughters)
An apartment
A house
A wealthy father
A working mother
A non-working mother
Home made dinner every night
Family dinners
Smiling members
"Thanks you" and "Please" keywords
A couple family members fluent with musical instrument
A family spiritual ritual
Guests over every weekend
Outings every weekend
Active family with lots of planned outdoors and regular sporting activities
All homework done in the first hour after school
Family vacations twice a year
Friends and family reunion every other year

May be add a few other lines, pick other choices. Done?

Now, I think, socially speaking, most combination of the above choices make a perfect family. Parents, kids, shelter, sport, music, spirituality. Any body cares about love?

Socially speaking, I don't think so. I find that the society is a very narrow minded and cruel judge when looking at itself. To the society there are only two categories and it judges every thing in either of the two: good or bad. A good society is consisted of good families in which there are kids who are educated and who are attended to by participating in different activities and socially grown by visiting families and friends. At this point the society closes its eyes, doesn't want to know any more. Good is good. Any thing that is not good is bad. There are no shades of good or shades of bad.

Now, what is love really?

To me, it is all about look, how you look at each other and what you see when you look.

Society doesn't like to look at its eyes. Society just likes to feel complete and for its completeness there are no eyes required, just smiles.

Songs Yesterday

I was listening to radio, then change the channel, then switched to CD, then changed the CD. Finally gave in; let is sing, let it sing to me.
It was getting dark, the navy blue sky, the lights, the occasional cars driving by, the chill of the dark.
I was driving at the dark of the night in my car listening to music. Such a simple statement seemed very remote 13 years ago. On those days I used to fantasize driving my car in the dark of the night listening to music; such a scene seems like a routine reality of these days. But then there is a reality in fantasy, a fantasy that by definition can never be real: hope!

Those days, the song itself was a fantasy.

For AZ

I recommended the movie to her; she ordered it and got it and watched it and liked it and thought about it. I look forward to sit down with her and discuss the movie over another cup of coffee in another local cafe somewhere. So like to read her recommended book: "Eat Play Love". SF knew us both very well to try to put us in touch. I owe her a true thank you.

I found this interview on the YouTube which is absolutely not recommended to those who have not watched the movie: "Revolutionary Road". I love these two acter and actress; not only because they are truly handsome and beautiful but because they seem like truly beautiful individuals to me. They are both in the same age range as I am and I see them growing old with me and my generation. I found them really growing to be more mature despite the deceitful fame. Kate Winslet especially catches my attention, how she was this bold girl who has grown to be this confident woman, comfortable with her body and look. Here is the interview:

Four Years

Four years ago at such a night we were all still in the post labor ward. Arman was not even one day old yet. I was drained but happy. M was drained and drained. A was... hungry?

Well, today that tiny baby who didn't know how to feed himself to survive demanded for a dinosaur cake, cut his cake himself, and shared the goody bags among his classmates at preschool. Gosh was I happy!

Last Dinner at Boston

• Despite all the self criticisms I threw at myself my boss had a great feedback for me today! Made me happy and felt accomplished.
  
• We had a less stressful dinner tonight with no customer to entertain and then ice cream in a local place with very interesting flavors.
• The Charles River was very beautiful at night when we got there. An image imprinted on my mind forever.
  
• Heading home tomorrow enshala.
  

Seasonal Crème brûlée

Disclaimer: this is the logging of a midnight after a long day/night of working like a dog; if you expect reading any thing meaningful and deep please skip this post - only logging

Hot Boston! I anticipated it to be humid too, but it was not.
I have got to start watching football (you know, the American version of it I mean!) and follow NBA and learn a few thing about the sport figures and the rumors in that area!!
It was the longest day of my 4-day career in this new role with a 7:30am meeting with my boss and my boss's boss and customers and conference sessions and competitors' trials and more customer meeting and conference calls and responding to e-mails and work and meeting a bunch of new people and thinking about an important conversation with a dear friend the night before and responding to texts and meeting with more customers and calling home and taking notes and thinking about what to get A to get to know where Boston is and fighting the residuals of a cold and after all this a dinner meeting with more customers and I feel I really blew it out not knowing any thing about any of the subjects the whole table was talking about! (except may be some of the talks about our products)
But Boston, people are definitely more trendy here, I like it actually and prefer it to the T-Shirt and jeans fashion in California; reminds me of Toronto actually. People (taxi drivers?) honk here which jumped me out of my skin all the time; There are red break houses around but for such an old city I anticipated more churches; And it took us 15 minutes to hale a taxi around 10:15PM in downtown. Oh I so appreciated the open windows of the taxi riding back to the hotel: the wind and the smell of the night.
It is past midnight here, again, and I seriously need to get some sleep.
By the way, the Seasonal Crème brûlée at Oceanaire Seafood place was great but had nothing to do with the May season as far as I could tell.

Boston Midnite

She pulled the zipper of her jacket all the way up to her neck; it was a chilly night after two full days of gray skies and rains. She could see the stars now, it was clearing up. She inhaled the cold humid midnight air, feeling a delayed but desired rush of blood to her brain. She was thinking about every thing: the dish she had had earlier, the book she had recently read, the movie her friend had just told her she had gotten, the posting she had started to write, the heart she felt racing lately, the prayers she had said earlier, the universe that had arranged this all, ... She was thinking about every thing, but nothing, to escape the one thought: what had she got to do?
She buried her fingers deeper into her jeans, raising her head again to look at the sky, feeling the cold of her tear on her right cheek, one eye shedding, one drop.
What was happening? How were things changing? How things were going to get fixed? Was there any thing to get fixed? What if? What if not?
She found herself at the gate, no one was around. She got herself a locker, changed, and dived into the pool.

Last Week at BSC R&D - For Now

This is the last few days I am spending in the R&D department here. I am an engineer and I am good at what I am doing yet I am trading it with a role I hardly have any experience with and still aim to excel. I have left my comfort zones several times before and I find this another similar experience. It is still a very strange moment in my life; exciting, scary, unknown, aspiring.
The positive point is that I am still going to be in the same division and hence in contact with most of the people that matter to me. I am glad I am leaving my department in good terms and with great relationships with my managers.
And then on the Marketing side I have a unique manager I cannot wait to work for. He struck me the first time I met him in a neurovascular forum as a very confident and marketing savvy person; he was tall and confidently loud and came across as a very knowledgeable and fearless professional. What is amazing about him is that despite his very high rank in his department he is very approachable and despite being such an achieved professional he is really humble. I feel blessed.
For now I have to finish a couple engineering deliverable and then start packing. I think tavakkol be khodaa I am ready to head for the new chapter in my career life.

Rainy Mother's Day

The low clouds of last night have brought us the refreshing gift of morning showers. They say the rain is God's gift to the whole being whether the receiving creature is worthy or not. Therefore, they say, your prayers will come true when it rains.
It is a beautiful Sunday morning with the clouds and the rain and my little A who is growing sweeter and sweeter every day. We danced to the tunes of children music this morning. He dances so clumsily but so amusingly to me, cheerful indeed.
I talked to my mother in law yesterday and my mom today to wish them a happy non-Iranian mother's day. They both laughed to hear the remark like they do every year. Unexpected appreciation I think makes them happy.
Motherhood seems like a unique journey indeed, a journey to unknown. The scenery is constantly changing in this trip, the destination is desired, imagined, fancied, but unknown; unexpected hardships at any corner but unexpected rewards at every turn too.
Happy Mother's Day! To my friends who have become mothers and those who are becoming mothers this year. Enjoy your journey!

Confession

Never thought I would surrender to life but I am surrendering!

Never thought I would not like to leave the room as I dreaded the reality of what was awaiting me behind the door.

Never thought a sweet remark could be so heart crushingly sad, a heart crushingly sad word could be so unimportant, an unimportant note could be so heart filling, a heart filling smile could be so ignored, an ignored touch could be so wanted, a wanted praise could be so denied, a denied cry could be so old, an old smell could be so pleasant, a pleasant look could be so hard.

Midnight 10K

1. I have been thinking about AA's mom a lot lately, a grandmother now, a lady who looks very fit and nice for her age, who goes to the gym every other day, whose voice resembles the pretty soft but firm voices of radio talk show hostesses, who stands tall and wears fashionable and pretty cloths. A housewife who is pretty knowledgeable about Iranian and American history, who has read lots and lots of books, who has interesting ideas about politics, and who enjoys her grandson a lot. I loved her the first time I met her. I think what I love about her the most is the fact that she knows who she is and acknowledges that. I hardly heard any wave of hesitation in her voice. She knows what could have gone better in her life but she knows why it didn't. She is an awesome woman in my eyes and I am going to miss her now that she is moving back to Iran.

2. I have decided to run a 10K race. Training for it is more difficult than I initially imagined. I have found a training schedule online and am trying to follow it. I actually modified the schedule with Mr E's input since he has already ran a Marathon and knows the intensity of the program already. Based on the modified schedule I am supposed to run 3 miles this Saturday, my first Saturday into the program. I am excited about this.

3. A goes to the little gym now. He gets offended though it you mentioned he was going to the little gym, he says "it is big!"

4. I decided I wanted to obtain an MBA degree, searched for schools, eliminated options based on different criteria, chose a school, applied, got admitted alhamdolellah, and registered for my first course just yesterday. I have to go to school and get a student card now. This last task item threw me into the reality of this all. I have become a university student, again!

The Alley

It was a narrow but long alley separating two winding rows of stables and ranches and estates. Some with tall break walls, some with wooden fences, wall flowers hanging from atop. There was a narrow brook running on one side, shrubs and wildflowers competing for the banks. The morning rain had washed all the shrubs alongside of the alley. The guarding walls were still wet. It was a cloudy afternoon.


It was set from weeks ago that they were going to meet there. He was gone for a month now and just before he left they had made a pledge to meet in that alley, in the afternoon of his return, rain or shine.


She never counted the days all that month, wanted to live each day by itself; it was a month of her life after all. She underwent the first three weeks hiding her heart behind four text books she had to study; Finished three and dragged on with the last one, no desire to finish this last one, no strength to endure the last week without a mind occupying hardship to keep her sanity.


It was the Sunday of his return, finally. She found herself in the alley before time. Puddles of rain water stained the path. She started walking along the flooding brook. She didn't wear her watch, intentionally. It was maddening having a counter beckoning the moments of her life flying away, bringing her closer to the end of her time, and her insane heart wanting that! The struggle between her logic and heart. Maddening. No watch to be worn in the alley on that afternoon.


That last week appeared to be harder than expected. It was the week during which she felt her heart wrenched more frequently, aching so hard she could wish she had no heart not to ache. But she did never wish so. Instead, she calmed her wrenching heart, or at least tried so. She closed her eyes every time inhaling deeply trying to remember the scent of his skin. The memory of that scent was disappearing though.


She inhaled deeply to feel the mixed fragrances of grass and wild flowers and rain drops.


The alley wound a few bends. She preferred that. The bends made the distances shorter; there always was a possibility of his appearance from a road blinded by a bend rather than a straight road stretched to the infinity void from any sign of his.


She had imagined their encounter a million times with a million different scenarios: As she saw him she would run to him, him standing in the distant; he would run to her, her frozen by his sight; she wouldn't see him until they literally bumped into each other... then she would hug him softly; she would jump on his chest grab his neck curl her knees around his back inhale his forgotten scent; she would just shake hand with him; she would shake hand and kiss his cheeks; ... then she would ask how his trip back was; she would say she was miserable without him; she would ask when he would be off on his next flight out; she would tell him how much her heart had missed him; ... then she would tell him she had to go back home soon being there too long; she would tell him she had all the evening to spend together; she would recommend having an ice cream in the newly remodeled parlor in downtown so they were in public;... her mind and heart in a constant battle of propriety and lust... but she knew she particularly wanted to inhale his manly scent again, kiss the side of his forehead to carry some of his scent forever with her.


On a very wide bend she saw him running toward her. She smiled. He started slowing down, panting, walking. She continued walking, said hi casually from distance. They stood a foot away from each other, greeting from afar. She stretched the bar of chocolate she had saved to share with him, he scratched his head forgetting to bring the running wrist watch she had asked him to. They walked back together, reviewing the to do list for the week. She was nodding her head smiling in her heart remembering all the long lost romantic memories of that alley.

Nothing is Perfect

Taste the honey and endure the pain of the decaying tooth
Befriend her and watch her turn her back and leave
Make friends and observe your own unbelieving eyes when you are driven away from them
Kiss his lips and bear the pain of bitten tongue
Give birth and hear him not inviting you to his birthday party
Watch her beauty and ache the desire to hold her
Enjoy the night and burn in the heat of the regretful hell
Love him and swallow his devilishly unfair look at you

Nothing is perfect, ever, in this perfect world of the Gods!

Rear View Mirror

It was no particularly significant time of the day; it was not at dawn, nor at dusk, it was not raining and there was no rainbow in the sky to be seen. It was just a late afternoon.

People were rushing, to home or somewhere. People in Bay Area are always rushing, to home or work or somewhere. In the rushing moments there are some who need a rush of caffeine who would stop by a Peet's or go through drive through Starbucks rushing to rush the spike of energy to their brain cells. They hardly even taste their coffee any more. A few though, a very rare few, would park by the coffee shop and literally get out to stay. This coffee shop was no Starbucks or Peet's, it was noticeable: A simple, old, dusty coffee shop with mismatching and raggedy furniture decorated with large canvas bags of coffee beans and local artists artworks.

It was no particularly significant time of the day but a particularly significant spot in the town. They had parked by the coffee shop not noticing the rushing traffic about and turned off the car. There was no desire in either of them to leave the car though in that late afternoon despite the significance of the venue.

He checked his watch one last time, she started the car. He opened the door, stepped out, and shut the door close, she whirled into the rushing traffic of the late afternoon. He walked towards the coffee shop not even once turning back to look, she watched him stepping away in her rear view mirror vanishing like a blue dot into the particularly significant coffee shop, alone.

Until Tomorrow

It was a rainy weeknight. A quite Indian restaurant, not busy at all, her, and a few friends. Indian food, jokes and laughter, music and pictures, good wishes and hugs and tears...

She always liked her job and her company, she was one of the best resources in her department, and one of the best girls to hang out with, and above all, to befriend with. However, lately she was not satisfied with her job any more. She was growing and the work shell she had could not acceptably house her talent any longer. She deserved a better bigger shell. She needed new challenges, new responsibilities, new leadership, newer management. Circumstances just helped push her out of her familiar but uncomfortable shell. And she finally was found by this great opportunity. She was certain the new job was going to provide her with growth, exactly what she deserved. Alas the job was in San Diego. She shipped her stuff down south. Even her car was going to be shipped the next day. And she is flying to San Diego on Friday. A one-way ticket... She said her goodbyes to the company, coworker and colleagues today and her exit interview escorted her towards her new horizon to be discovered.

She will head to explore this new beach city, find herself new friends, and enjoy the strolls in downtown SD. I bet there is a Starbucks there to provide her with Dark Cherry Mocha samples sprinkled with shredded chocolate. From now on she will be my excuse for my short weekend getaways. Considering that all the last thing I wanted to say in this perfect rainy night was to say goodbye. I am going to see her soon.

She and her delightful spirit will be missed here though!

Daddy Long-Legs

"A classic you can read in a day" is the title of a review on Amazon. And so true to my own experience...

It is a Friday in summer of 1993. We are invited to my paternal grandparents'. We arrive around 10 am right after breakfast and are supposed to stay for the whole day, a long day as it usually is at their place. My youngest and fun aunt who still lives at home has just gotten engaged and is all lovey dovey with her fiance all the time, they either vanish outside or in her room not visible most of the day so it is really no more fun to spend a whole day there. But the new uncle-to-be, Mr Mohandes, arrives that day with a book: "Daddy Long-Legs" and is so positively advertising the book. Z, S, and I are fishy (he is always boastful about every thing that gets him engaged) but excited about this book which looks pretty old, from his library for sure. So the three of us sit in the living room by ourselves and start reading.
It is lunch time, as late as 2PM, which is used to be the case in their home. We are still reading. I suppose each is reading a chapter out loud and the other two are bent over the book on either side of the reader. We don't care about the lunch and just continue reading. And for sure we finish it in half a day.

Soon that year they started broadcasting the animation series with the same name and I remember it affected the whole high school girls. I guess everyone wished to have a daddy-long-legs!

Here is a short plot from Wikipedia:
"Jerusha Abbott was brought up at the John Grier Home, an old-fashioned orphanage. The children were wholly dependent on charity and had to wear other people's cast-off clothes. Jerusha's unusual first name was selected by the matron off a grave stone, while her surname was selected out of the phone book. At the age of 18, she has finished her education and is at loose ends, still working in the dormitories at the institution where she was brought up.

One day, after the asylum's trustees have made their monthly visit, Jerusha is informed by the asylum's dour matron that one of the trustees has offered to pay her way through college. He has spoken to her former teachers and thinks she has potential to become an excellent writer. He will pay her tuition and also give her a generous monthly allowance. Jerusha must write him a monthly letter, because he believes that letter-writing is important to the development of a writer. However, she will never know his identity; she must address the letters to Mr. John Smith, and he will never reply.

Jerusha catches a glimpse of the shadow of her benefactor from the back, and knows he is a tall long-legged man. Because of this, she jokingly calls him "Daddy Long-Legs." She attends a women's college, but the name and location are never identified; however, men from Princeton University are frequently mentioned as dates, so it is certainly on the East Coast. The college is almost certainly based on the author's alma mater, Vassar College, judging from college traditions mentioned. She illustrates her letters with childlike line drawings, also created by Jean Webster."

... And Running Is Resumed

I ran today. What has always been appealing to me about running is its liberating sensation. It feels like an accomplishment to resume it. I chose the late afternoon for my endeavor, it was light enough but the moon was also shining brightly. I was running by a creek, there were other runners on the path. I am sure I will miss this creek if one day I move out of this neighborhood. It was all freshly green, youthful, hopeful. I love this Spring in California. It is much greener than the previous years. The green hills are inviting to a long hike, to conquer them to the top and then just to spread a blanket for yourself and may be your companion to sit on and just be, to be with the green hills and the sky and the chirping birds...
I am not sure how far I ran today, I know it took me about 40 minutes including a short but sweet phone call interruption and a few walking intermissions. It was a fulfilling exercise.

trauma

It was a long and stressful week at work and today was the most stressful day of all with a couple very important meetings I had to prepare for. It was at the end of this very long day that I got a call from M, warning me that A's preschool had contacted him to inform that A had a bruise on his nose due to and earlier accident. I am not sure how I felt about that, I know I was very concerned and worried. Driving the rest of the way there I truly wished there was no speed limit in the highway or any car on the road any more. I flew to preschool I think, ran to his class, and I found A all in smiles and at ease telling me how he fell down in the playground. His nose was bruised but also his left cheek and forehead. My heart ached seeing him like that but it was a relief seeing him so, well, happy! I think he had received lots of hugs and attention after the accident.
I feel drained from it all. But what keeps coming back to my mind is my mother; how many times she got called to school because of me alone, and I was not a busy girl at all! I remember once in high school I had an accident in which my head bumped into a classmates face during an sport activity. I remember how after the impact I was thrown back in a reflective response. I was transported to the principle's office, my friend to a hospital. My mom got called and shortly she was with me in the office. I could tell how traumatized she herself was, although she seemed calm. She later told me when the office had called her, the more they insistent that I was doing fine after the accident the more she felt something was seriously wrong. She wanted all the details I think to feel she was properly and honestly informed... Ah kids, their adventures, and moms and dads!