colourblind

When my dad talks about his childhood, i can't help but imagine it in monochrome. 

(Awa*) On the Momtazian/Forghani strain of A.D.D.

awacado 8:42 AM i have ADD i need twelve things opened
and to be having two conversations
and on the phone
and thinking about things while i ponder out the window
and walking around
and eating yoghurt
and drinking green tea

8:43 AM and stressing about my assingment
in order to feel like things are normal

*pronounced "Ah-va"

On Superficial Interaction

For Awa (and family)*

A few unlikely but related things happened this morning in the first 5 minutes of my being awake:

- I used my voice box (for lack of a more medically accurate term) at 6:15 am.

- I had an enjoyable superficial interaction experience (that i didn't initiate - seems to be relevant).

- I exchanged pleasantries with the sweet man who cleans my apartment building a number (3?) of times a week.

The last point is unlikely for a number of reasons, the dominant one being the barrier of language. I was fairly certain he spoke solely either Hebrew or Russian. My Hebrew is dismal. In fact my Russian is probably better for the reason that for a while i was quite obsessed with Russia and all that it represents. A linguistically genius friend overheard and so the Russian lessons began. Although my obsession has mostly waned, i still use the occasional "Kak de la?" to greet a Russian-speaking Taxi driver. et al.

The sweet man that cleans my building a number (im pretty sure its Sundays, Mondays, and Fridays) of times a week somehow resembles my family. Not my family as a whole, but he has similar characteristics to, for example, my paternal grandfather, Baba-i, in the way in which he diligently goes about his labourous work. And in the way he appears much younger than you secretly know he is. And the way he is gentle and always seemingly content.

I like him. Im not exactly sure why, but i conclude it must be the family thing. I usually smile at him. He always smiles back.

Today, he caught me in the elevator acting out my morning ritual of rubbing my eyes and frowning at my dilapidating sneakers and nervously scanning my ipod for the perfect first song of the day.

"Shalom"

"Oh, hi, um, Shalom!"

He closed his eyes, frowned a little, and nodded.

"Sport." he stated, moreso than asked.

"Yes, um, ken" i smiled, stumbling disorientedly over my non-existent Hebrew.

"Zehr Gut." he smiled back.

20 or so seconds later.....

The elevator doors flung open and i almost lept out to let out the smile that was growing uncontrollably across my face.

German! But of course!

*Very Ghobad-y too, he is.

happy birthday to you

For some reason, i am suspicious that every day of September marks a birthday of someone i know. Certainly it doesn't, but there is something about the appearance of the dates in September which seem to scream "someone was definitely born on this day and you are forgetting it". They just sound/look so celebratory. 

1st September  (doesn't it just look like a birthday date?)

2nd September - (and this one)

3rd September - (AND this one)

In fact, day x September screams 'get your candles out'. 

Perhaps i just want an excuse to burst out into festive birthday-praising song. 

Or maybe i'm just trying to justify my daily cravings of chocolate cake

Mmmmmm cake. 

On Weeds

"Me week" s don't work.

We tend to believe that we need to take time out to 'recharge' periodically, as though relaxation and self-reflection were an accumulative thing. We postpone pending personal matters and file them away under "To Be Continued" while we trudge through the 'now' making all sorts of sacrifices believing them to be little investments, fine acts of commendable nobility even...while we let litle weeds of frustration, anxiety and, the most pesky of them all, spitefulness sprout up within us.

Hello world.

pinata

Main Entry: pi·ña·ta
Variant(s): or pi·na·ta \pēn-ˈyä-tə\
Function: noun
Etymology: Spanish piñata, literally, pot, from Italian pignatta, probably from pigna pinecone
Date: 1883

: a decorated vessel (as of papier-mâché) filled with candies, fruits, and gifts and hung up to be broken with sticks by blindfolded persons as part of festivities