31 Jan 2008

RE-READING

Virginia Wolf hours. Writing with wooden stello. Dripped ink. Stained index. Rough paper scratching her pinky. Intimate sound and connection established. Between paper, thoughts, ink, and self. Finger, stylo and soul. Intense feelings. Vivid emotions. Deep connection. Never attained before except through this fatal combination. Resembling the death moments when sight is iron. Words and expression as vast and dense as a sea of black and blue ink. Mingled together. Evenly that you can trace neither the black nor the blue. Never stopped long enough to wonder about these trivials. Yet, indulged in the ink. Allowing yourself to be stained with the colour that you no more see but just taste its unique pigment fine mingling. The colour of your own reality. Blue. Black. Who cares. Red if I may say, like Pamuk's. But when in the making, it retrograde like Mars. Giving space to the new arrivals. Mercury and Saturn. Intermingling. Thoughts and ideas. With hard work and solid, untwisted intention. When these combinations are consumated, we will invite you Mr.Mars. Not too late. Not too early. Just in time for the right mix to cook well.

CURTAIN

She has been driving me crazy. Or is it that I am driving myself crazy. Really intense relation. At time complete peace and another just war of troy. It is all put up and down by me. She remains for all the past decades an apparently silent partner. We are just not compatable. I have to accept that. We think differently. Act differently. React differently and for sure do things and comprehend things so different. Neither of us was able to take a step forward to understand the other. What we have is temprorary peace that is to be exploded at any moment. Basically by me. She never initiates it. I do. Not a single time did she start.

Well, this is to the outside eyes but in my eyes, she silently triggers me. Silently and coldly triggers me. Not through doing anything but just simply by being herself. This 'herself' annoys me to the max. I demand perfection and she simply can not handle that. Never did. And she will never do. I blame her inside and no matter how I try to get over it, she fails me. I can not help but feels betrayed.

I forget. Start a new page and re-explain. Tell what is important to me. How to win me is easy, just do some effort. I dont really want things done but I love to see that some effort is done. Some effort. But maybe the effort has to be done in a certain way. I want her to believe in what she is doing. Not do it because she is trying to please me. Do it because she believes in it. Specially if it is simple things. If her excuse is always 'I am lazy. I did not find someone to do it. ...etc' I hate that. If you want to do it, you will find a way. And if you did not find a way, then ok at least you tried.

I explain how these things are important to me. And again, she promised. Over promise and do nothing. I believe her and then watch her slack again. Or just not able to stand to what she promised. I wonder why did she promise in the first place. She tries to please me? That's beautiful but if you continously fail me, I get pissed. Tell me you cant do it and I will stop. It seems that I cant stop until you tell me. Some people believes it is that I believe in you and thus keep pushing, but I think it can be stupidity from my side. I keep asking for the same thing over and over. All i want is to either do it or tell me you cant. If you can't then it is fine. At least I finally got the reason for you not doing it. I am not smart to catch it on the fly. Please tell me.

Dont over promise. I stall. I 'bahange'. I really do. Need direction there. A verbal one. Tell me you cant and I will let you go. Else, I enter an endless loop.

Feel passionate about what you do, else dont do it.

Give me good excuses other than being lazy

Show me that life is moving. Dont give me excuses at anything I ask for. Dont just blame it on anyone. I hate to see things not working or stacking there for no reason. Delayed delays. I dont like that. Move on. Want me to love you, Move on.

I am hard to be with, I know. I see mistakes and if you do it right, I think it is normal. Not for anyreason but because you tried, and this is what you get when you try. Things move. Why do you choose to hang in there. Blaming.

I like to be taken seriously. If I ask for something, this means I really want it. I am not joking about it. I can do it myself. I hardly will ask for things. And my requests are not too difficult. And are not too much.

It is tough being there. I am glad I live alone!

29 Jan 2008

21

Different shapes. Thin and thick. Old and new. Heavenly carved. Gracefully assembled one next to the another. Number chosen. Shapes examined. All complete. No breaks. Sacredly ticking one after the other. Motherly mumbling. Intention declared. Beeded with love while sitting one morning during the month of April 2005. Imprising one afther the other around a thin, and later thick, white string. I was there. Watching patiently and enthusiastically while the process was being completed. Got myself attached to it. It was hope.

I hold tight to it. An invisible support. Strengthening my aura and opening my destiny. It did. Gracefully it did. It remained a secret. A hidden bond. Knew nothing about it, yet felt it deeply. It was there. Nodded gracefully. Recognized our destiny before we did. After all, this is what it was intended for. Witnessed everything. Everything that was spoken or unspoken. Expressed verbally or averbally. Witnessed it all. What a great witness. It felt safe.

When time comes to leave it stood there. Our promise to a safe comeback. I smuggled myself through it. My inner scent. Deep cell. Kind smile and wandering eyes. A dormant travel companion yet a life giver phantoum. It was there. Carried all what I wanted to send there. It was my adventurer. Saw and shared what I could not yet longed for. It was me. Part of me. No, it was me.

I took it back. To recharge it. To connect with it. To send it back fresh. To continue be a merry jinny. Waiting for the moment its holder embrace it in the hands, rub gently and inhale it in through every cell. Transcending through its stones to this happy peaceful space that unites. God knows if it was wet by a tear or two that let itself drop peacefully. Sweeping along its journey bits of this mingled sadness and hope. Reflecting a trembling smile hesitantly finding its way in the midst of the pleading heart. When I put it back. Feeling it more dense. More connected. A messanger. A sacred one. I could not wait to have it back.

I still recall the way it was held. Embraced. Deeply smelled while the little eye looking to me. A smile. A relieved smile. A meaningful one. I understood it. Felt it and knew what this 21 means. Not only to me.

I chose to let it rest there. Not with me. There with the protector. Yes there is 'there' now. In the tearsome peace. With the deeply pleading heart. It meant to be there for now. Not sure until when. It forever remained a symbol of more connection. Now a hope. A hope so entangled in fear. All that we have now.

I fear nothing more than it being sent back. Please stay there as long as I live.

I believe in each and every one of you. You have never put me down. Stay there. Hold it there. Provide support if you are ever been held again. If picked up. Do not blame or reproche. Just be there as ever. Radiate. Smile. Spread your smell and strength. A hope is all what will be needed. Your silence is more eloquent than millions of a well versed stranza.

I could not do that.

28 Jan 2008

HIDDEN

I called. She was so damn aggressive. I understand that I have been bugging her when calling and asking for 'A'. I know the extension is wrong but as if I enjoy hearing her dull voice. It does turn me on. I imagine her stupidity and smile.

So today I called again. Yes again. Very evil. I asked for my friend. She finally noticed that I am the same person and had all her aggression geared up to answer me. Her tone got really aggressive and confronted me if I was directed at her office, or I put in the extension. I said, 'no dear, I put your extension.' So she gave me my friend's extension and slammed the phone in my face without giving me a chance to ask her to direct me there. I was annoyed.

I sat down on my new leather sofa. Sipping my tea and then decided to call again and tell her to not be aggressive especially that last time she was. I decided to do something I never done before and see.

I called her. I introduced myself. I apologized that I have been calling the wrong extension and bugging her. I did apologize and then said,
'I am X. I called you a while back and asked for A. I understand that it might be bugging you, but it is no excuse to hangup in myface and speak to me in ...'

I did not continue my sentence when she was so aggressive and said,
'I DIDNOT hangup and i didnt talk in a 'baykha' way'
'I did not say that you talked in 'baykha' way, I was about to say 'aggressive'. And you did hangup in my face.....'
Again, she cut me through and said 'No I did not hangup and I said 'thank you. Bye' and if I didnot want to answer I wont'.
'Would you let me continue my sentence please? No ma'am. You did not say bye and you hangup. Anyways, I understand again how busy you might be, but please dont you ever hangup in my face. And it is your duty to answer in a nice way because you work there.'
'I am sorry if I was rude. I apologize.'
'No problem dear. Have a good day'.

I smiled.

I never do that. I do confront that's for sure. In usual times I would just call and give her a lesson and hangup in her face. Was my chance to revenge. But I did not. It was fun. I wanted to know who this person is when caught off guard and when she stops pretending for a while. (I do know her very well from my friend A who talked about her before to me.'

My observation:
1. She is aggressive. The way she slams the phone even when I call to ask for her help with something.
2. She is not cheerful.
3. She always complains and I heard her more than once saying 'Ana zehe't. Ouff. Ouff.'
4. She is this kind of people who has to defend herself all the time. Gives no chance for others to complete a sentence. She is never wrong. She is Mrs. Right and now I can imagine a conversation with A will take them. No wonder they never reached a good discussion. She never admits her mistakes.

She will never let go. So indulged in selfishness and aggression.

ON WRITTING

I remember. I do remember my dear and exceptional father used to tell me whenever I am about to write a 'composition' for school. 'Write and for every simple word, open the dictionnary and replace it with a hard more sophisticated one.' I looked to him silently. Did it maybe once or twice to get his acceptance or just to fend off any further requests of that sort. I wondered why. I really did. My mind resorted to that the purpose was to learn more vocabulary. However, I never learnt vocabulary that way. Until this very moment I do use vocabulary that I dont really know its meaning, yet, know it fits in this sentence and gives it some strength. Terms and business, or historical words, that if you ask me the exact meaning I wont really know. Anyways, my father is smart and for sure had his reasons for this way of learning. For the GRE, I got the worst score in the vocabulary. I think I am not good. I followed my friend 'Doug' advice and did a yellow stick note for all the words. It didnot work still.

Anyways, i came to recognize for myself why the resistance to replacing words. Replacing simple words with more sophisticated words; memorizing the dictionnary let alone using it. I resisted all that. I wanted to always experience the words as it is. In its own sentence. And for sure in its own context. I so adore 'context'. Of words. Of circumstances. Of events. Of feelings. I do and always did put everything and grasp everything in context. I do that. And it does complicate things yet gives it a personal touch that I love.

I noticed in my own writing, that I use very simple vocabulary. Sometimes more sophisticated ones. I alternate. Giving the green light to simple words. I do that not on purpose, and not because of time or mood reservation, but it is how I feel when writing. I see it as a reflection of how I feel. SOmetimes to make it hard, not for others to understand, but for myself to unravel it. I dont see it clearly, and I am not comfortable. I am not at ease. I write through my 'lenses' that is not a clean lens, but a struggling one. And thus the words come like that. Complicated. To me at least.

I have been conscious to simplify. To not tend to complicate anything. Things are complex and simplifying it makes it beautiful. To go back to the basic solid emotions. To go back to the rainbow colours. And then play with the combinations. Whenever it is too complicated, then something is not right. Something is not right. I no more drag myself behind decieving words, like 'challenge' because there is no challenge outside you. All the challenge is inside. And I'd rather focus in. I simplify it on myself.I go back to the basic emotions and basic outcome. Still discovering what are these basics, but there are basics, solid and real ones that are worth searching for.

I wonder if there are 7 basic feelings/ emotions like that of the rainbow. I also wonder if the rainbow colours do carry and portray all the feelings. Aren't the colours of our Chakras that of the rainbow?

So, I love you papa but I am glad I never changed the words to a more complex ones. I sticked to my simple vocabulary.

23 Jan 2008

ZIPPER

So the reason for all the stupidity that I felt while doing the ROI was because my damn pants zipper was opened!!!! Yes. It was freezing at this time in the morning, so I went to the bathroom. A stupid guy tried to open the door while I am in, so I had to speedup and probably didnot close my zipper because I was disturbed, had to put my coat on and the scarf. So probably didnot take my time closing it.

While discussing his damn ROI, I took my coat and long scarf that was covering till my pants. I never do that, take the scarf off that is, however left my small cross bag on! DA DA DA... but anyways, it comes out handy to cover up.

Anyways, so while he was talking, I was sitting infront of him around a glass table. What a bad luck. I have been there twice before and we ususally sit in the meeting room. Today, we sat in the office and the office had to have this glass table.

So, he was talking and telling me his story, and I am sitting so comfortably. Happy with my nice outfit, when I happen to notice that GOD DAMN IT, my zipper was so freeken opened. So fully opened. SHIT SHIT SHIT. My face turned red.

I was so disturbed. My mind flying in so many different directions. Did he notice? What did he see exactly? And more and more.... I start to interrupt all his actions and looks to see whether he noticed it and he is trying to divert his eyes away from it. I looked at his zipper, but he was having a paper on his side, so it was not showing his pants. Unluckly, I had the table so clear at my side that he can see so clearly.

I dont know if he noticed or not. But I put my bag over it and wanted to shut it closed! But I couldnt. The zipper was opened till the last tick! IT would be so obvious that he will see me closing it.

Well, time for the damn ROI. I could not concentrate for a gif. I was so distracted. I appeared so like an idiot. I couldnot calculate. Could not think. Was so appearing like a big damn fool with an opened zipper!!! And it is not that I tried to be nice or let it pass, I had this sarcastic look on my face and appeared so UNINTERESTED.

I calculated the ROI to have the guy spend 600K to get an income of 95K. Damn. SO I said there must be something wrong. Bugger, I calculated the equipments to be part of the expenses when it is a one time thing!!! How can someone be that stupid!

Anyways... it was one of those embarrassing things that happen to me. It left me so annoyed. What a bad luck! SOmetimes things do not work the way you want. AT ALL.

So, I have nothing to do but pray that the guy wont report me as an idiot. But had he known that my zipper was opened..... I hope he didnot see it open though. I prefer to be stupid than someone seeing my underwear.

I went home. Imitated how I was sitting. There will be no way on earth that he will see anything. I had a white shirt and a grey vest tucked in that it was buffering between the pants and the underwear. So if he had noticed anything, it would be that the zipper was opened but nothign else. WEll, still..

Now I remember my Korean friend who had his zipper opened while talking to me, and I just couldnt forget about it until now!

We are really fragile! I mean, our zippers are so fragile. I want to blame it all on the god damn ass who tried to open the bathroom door on me that got me to get confused! Whoever you are, you are such a bastard.

DA

So, what is the problem?

DA DA, who cares!!! It is not the end. Things dont have to work out well all the time.

Ok, but I was totally not myself.

Well, dont take yourself so seriously. Laugh it out. What! You appeared stupid? What's wrong with that. You are actually, and because you are a definit stupid you must laugh it off. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

What! The whole world is reduced to that stupid incedent. What? Are you 12?

Resolution: Be optimistic regardless. Who knows maybe it will work out well and wont be as bad as you thought. Laugh at it.

Who really can tell! Certainly not you.

Now what: Relax positively and whenever you remember, just think of Green.

Go Go.

Remember, keep a positive attitude. Please.

12 Jan 2008

VANILLA

And life has endless stops. Endless 'stops' and endless 'goes'. Endless startovers. The only one constant fact, life never stops. Not at the loss of something or someone, or even the dramatic wining of the very thing you ever wanted. I tend to forget all about that when in the midst of either extremes, although I endlessly during my stable cycle, I enjoy the stability. But I know now that I enjoy the 'action' much more. Either good or bad. I enjoy engagement. The going deep down until there is no more depth, and drill the everything to the last drop. And in most cases, I had already knew what the findings would be, i choose over and over to go on with the same path. Maybe hoping that the results will be different. But again, i realized that I do like my tennis beloved, pete samprass, i try a new technique even I keep losing points, until i master it. I do that. I changed. And i realized that.

I enter something and get out of it, maybe with the same result: 'Phew, I threw myself there for nothing.' But when I pass all the emotion stress, I look and say, 'You are good. Need some tweaking in that and this. You cant handle x and y. You thought you were good in A but you are not, so drop it.' And heavenly the next experience I am able to practice what I am weak at. And this has been a blessing.

I realized I am not an ambitious lady. I dont really want to be the CEO or most famous person. But I realized that I all the time struggle to be myself and get closer to me. I really dont want to neglect me. Not again. I dont want to live to other's expectations of me. They dont even know me! And there expectations are always 'proper' one that I found to be idealistic when I am human.

I do bad decisions. I do mistakes and screw myself. Disobey. And I now grew outside the 'perfect' image and enjoy my real role as, may I say, a sinner? I am more and more trying to be accepting of this new 'expectation.' Why? Because I know I will not do it again, or at least because I am not a abuser or a heartless person.

I am passionate and risk taker and do see things differently. I will not come and go without stirring up something. Unintentional. Just by being myself I totally do that. I tried to hide that, but alas, my nature prevails. There is something in my eyes and my way that scandalize the pretending.

I am happy I am the way I am. However, learning and learning. And as my professor who endlessly believed in me and endlessly reveal it, told me while hugging me when I was about to leave: Dont worry. You will never stop learning.

And will never stop taking risks.

10 Jan 2008

...

Sitting at starbucks that day, I saw this sweet man, probably in his early sixities. A very kind and quiet man. He is accompanied with his daughter and his grandson. He had this sweet, loving and sad face. Playing lovingly, with deep passion and reservantion with his grandson. Looking to him fondly. Almost a little tear in his eyes. Cuddling gently. Tabbing his shoulder. Rubbing his back. All so gently. With this amazing sadness and kindness.

I could hear little piece of information here and there. His daughter is travelling to her husband somewhere. I guess she is meeting with her father to say goodbye, or just have a little noon outing with him before she and her son leave for some country. The father just silently and politely asked for little details. The girl, who is amazingly sweet and nice one, would tell him. Talking and sharing with him. He would just nod. Smile. Touch her hand. Kiss the kid. Hide his deep sadness and maybe hide his tears with his coffee sipping. I wonder!

When she left to get something for herself. He followed her with his eyes. Wondering whether he will see her again. Will he still be here when she comes. How long will he wait till he meet up with her again. He starred for a while, before kissing the little boy.

I watched. Just amazing father i feel. Looking at him I wonder where is teh mother. My story is that his wife probably died. He was so in love with her. He misses her.Wished for her to be with them and support him in his lonely time and more lonely when his daughter leaves. He kisses the little boy and embrace him while remembering her and her soft touch, her comforting voice. In his daughter and grandson he sees his deceased wife, his loving wife. This is teh only connection she had left him. Now this will be gone too.

I wonder!

This life is strange. Without connection, Real ones, everything is meaningless. Connection does transform life. Makes it more vibrant and more alive. Makes life bearable. Makes hopes more attainable. Makes dreams more fun to pursue. Else, purpose is missed.
Just as I am about to sign-in to my MSN which was closed for months, this girl sent me a message. She was with me at AUC, 1 year elder and she is not even at all my style. For some reason, she would call me, connect, and endlessly talk with me when I used to go to the library. I would always have a hesterical smile on my face and my eyes bukkling out insearch for anyone to rescue me. I will end up telling her that I have to leave, and she would walk me out. WOuld take a taxi infront of her, and let him drop me at the end of the street.

What annoys me? Pessimistic. Too sarcastic to my taste. Very conservative. Very very. Scared. Captured in some ideas that I dont have to buy. Judgemental. I think she only talks to me to see how I am thinking and what I am doing and how lost I am compared to the true path she is leading. Well, I dont care. She once debated endlessly about how sinful I am to try to study Islam and be critical. I was annoyed.

So the vimto second i signed in she sent me a message. As ususal the pessimistic tone.

I: 'where are you?
Me: meaning?
I: I am in germany
Me: great
I: Not great. OK
Me: Ok is great i guess
I: Better than before
Me:Good
I: SO where are u?
I: What's with you? Anything new with you

Well, I blocked her after this question and signed off from the chat. I hate to be investigated. It is so personal and such a private questions. I dont see you, we hardly talked for 4 years, and now you are depressed or whatever, and just want someone to entertain you with some news that I consider so personal.

She might be nice. It is me that gets really irritated at this type of questions that does not mean anything. Well again, my news are not for entertaining you and your ego.

And what's with, 'anything new?' I hate this question.

6 Jan 2008

THE HOURS S

Again. Great movie. Not a must see because you will not really understand it or connect unless you are in some sort of similar pain or situation. And it is hard to be there because it is simply a squeezing experience that get the worst and then the best out of you. Wickedly tempt you to go to the extreme peak of your madness, I did already. Grab you the extreme and allow you to enter places where you never had any idea it ever exists, that i did too.

Well, it does exist.

And from there you go down hill. And when I am going down hill, I tend to throw all that is irrelevant or burdening me while going up. It should be the opposite. But with me, it is the opposite opposite. As if I gain a lot of momentum and stamina from carrying all the weight in addition to the gravity and the uphill challenge. I suffer and suffer but simply ask for more because I am stronger than strength, and more solid than steel and more stubborn than a jew priest. Charged and charged. And again more charged. So full. Refuse to have one drop of the ocean water misses me. All in but never too unconscious to sink.

And then it's the release.

It is up to you and to me and to even the mountain to imagine what the release will be. And going downhill. You throw and throw and become as light and as clean and as flying like a tender fierceful and angry red indian arrow targeted towards a bloody cruel white who burnt its village, rapped its wives, and killed its dear water buffalo. Or as cultured and not barbaric of an expression: a pumping hot knife in a butter. You just slaughter. The butter what else. And in that sliding and slicing and travelling and traversing through the thin air, you whistle the sound of the wind, that you become the free being you once was.

And you once again--but not forever--beware, make a home run.

'How can you regret if you had no choice?' And I chose to have no choice back then. Now I chose to choose. Between life and more life. I chose just life.

A choice to not have more.

THE HOURS

Great movie. Very real and it is all about women. It is not that I am by any mean a feminist. Not from far or close. Do not even know what does being a feminist mean other than fighthing for their rights, which until this moment, I dont really know what are these rights! Are not 'female' human to start with? It is just that I am generally aganist classifications, let alone classification of me. This or that. I am neither. I am just Am. Genderless!

I read once, cant remember where, that our soul is genderless. And just the slightest manipulation of X and Y makes the outer shell male or female. But in reality we are genderless... or as the book 'woman' tried to invain convience me, that we are all females, until the Y chromosome decide to danglingly portray itself. All organs are prepared to have the new comer female. And in that there is the power of being a female. Well, I am not sure if I am convienced, or even not convinced. Just interesting to know and good to save it and maybe one day I will use this idea to raise it.

I cant deny that, and because of my dear friend--who recently became more dear-- I start to pay attention to woman. The idea of 'woman'. Of being a woman. Of dealing with woman. Who they possibly are and where are they going. And from myself, I start and will probably end. I never liked woman or had many female friends. Nor will I do that now. But it could be that for years, I and probably the 'elle We', are ashamed of who they are. One little discovery: the woman anatomy is fantastic. (hush hush, this is what I am reading.) The history of female body. All the forbidden and the more and more forbidden. I read the 'vagina monolgue' 5 years ago or even more! I read it but not sure what I got out of it. But it is interesting, because I am like a camel. I read. I dont get what the hack are they talking about. Then I get it years later and I even can remember the book and the words. Hey, I am proud to recognize recently that I do, very much so, have a photographic memory.

Anyways. What's appealing of a discovery to me is that we are born complete. We is the 'elle we'. Complete. We have all the organs ready. All the eggs residing there. All life ready to be blown into. And we go from Peak to null to again another peak. As for the 'Il we', they are incomplete. Complete. and then incomplete. Hey, dont blame me. It's her who said so. 'Woman: An intimate geography.'

Well, it makes sense.

5 Jan 2008

NOT HASSAN

Yesterday was an interesting. Started out slow. Sitting in the sun with a 1.5 litre of water-- that i make a conscious decision to drink every morning-- and a book about islamic historiography. Yes, I am back to my old field of research. I am coupling it with my wonderful friend focault's theory about deconstruction of knowledge. They are so related. I actually owe a lot to focualt's theories that I applied in life and in my studying of history. It makes my life so complicated yet close to real. Well, history is the field that suits me. Who knows it will be my profession one day. It is the hobby and state of mind that best suits me. I enjoy it and feel relaxed while doing it. This effortless connection that I establish. ANd it is not history, as we are taught in school, the dates and incidents, it is the deconstruction and analysis of history that I am talking about.

I got my new laptop, and real work already started. Very stimulating and challenging but it is fun. Travelled last week to europe and had my first meeting. Different world and different era. I so love the energy. So I sat working and writing and planning my thoughts. THe best thing I can do and enjoy. Forget to say, I am in the process of updating my little apartment--so it is also fun. Organizing and planning work in the quiet and almost empty space. I love the scene. Music. Plants. Leather sofa. New Wooden floor. Lovely.

Life is good.

Around 2 I walked over to my friend. Played tennis on Wii and actually my arms and legs hurt. Was amazing. Then we walked to Diwan. There was a book signing by Hanan mufid fawzy. The place was packed. I recognized a lot of faces, actors, writers...etc. Her new book did not impress me cause I am not into poetry, but she seems like a decent lady. Very decent actually.

To the best part. Walked to our favourite italian restaurant. For the first time was packed and all tables reserved. Old customer's sake opened for us a new little table around the corner. Nice. The french waiter was a little grumppy this evening. Me and my friend dont really get 2 plates. We get one and share. I dont know how to eat otherwise. I dont like the idea of everyone ordering and sucking the dish alone. Every order, the guy would assure us: one plate for the 2 of you. Yes. One coke. Yes. One inslata selizone. Yes. One tiramisu. Yes and 2 spoons. Was funny.

My cousin entered. He was actually looking so good, dressed elegant, smiling and walking very fast while greeting a family dining in. He is almost my height so he is considered short. He didnot see my and went to sit with his friends. I walked over to where my cousin sat with a huge smile on my face that caught his friends attention. They must be thinking i am a suicide bomber in a mission. I reached my cousin who was giving me his back and kissed him. He was so sweet. Always is. Full of energy and very intellectual yet amazingly modest. Seeing him and realizing the elegance of everything he does and how and where; his way of speaking, eating, dressing, friends... Really opening the appetite.

The best thing about food is sharing it and then eating it. I enjoy food. Enjoy little samples. Enjoy small quanities. I hardly would eat the dish alone if I am with a close friend. I actually do not go to nice restaurants unless I like the company. It has become a sacred enjoyment that I dont like to waste with people who annoy me or with whom I dont feel comfortable. And for sure, I dont like too crowded places, sitting near the kitchen, stupid waiters, big dishes, and too many dishes.

Ah... and then walked back alone around 11 home. Weather was cool and nice, and I was just wearing a white long sleeves shirt and a scarf. Amazing feeling!!!

I guess my trip to europe adjusted my mood. To paris in 10 days! I am excited about that too.

It is nice to 'write home' after sometime away.