A Cup of Coffee

I needed a mocha this morning but I had vowed that I would buy myself one if I got out of the house before 7AM.  I left at 7:12AM.  No mocha for me.
It is a rainy day, dark and fresh in the early morning haze.  I decided to make myself a bitter drink.  Two heaping spoons of dark cocoa and a medium blend of office Starbucks would do.
I stood by the window stirring the wet and dry together using the porcelain spoon of my orange and white porcelain mug.  It reads Paris on it.  Standing by the window looking over the wet parking lot as the sun rays were trying to battle the thick clouds I was wondering how a cup of coffee would feel for a lady with a boyish short hair on a wet November morning in Paris.

The Joy of Singing

My friend was a writer.  May be she still is, I am not sure.  What I know is that she is my friend and she is a physician and she is a world citizen.  Her name is Z.Sh.

One day, back in the high school days in Isfahan, when getting accepted to a high ranked university in a very reputable major was the dream of any high school kid, especially the ones attending NODET or competing with it, after finishing reading her most recent handwritten publication under the blanket using a flash light, I asked her why she wrote.  She responded that everyone had only one life to live, but by making characters in her stories she got the chance to live many different lives.

And oh yeah!  I wanted to live that girl's life in Z.Sh.'s last hand-written publication!  I think we all did.  That character was an aspiring dreaming unchained girl.  She was living in Tehran at a relative's place, she had this romantic boy friend but got to learn about the neighbor's older son/nephew, who got to tutor her, the one who seemed to be ignoring her all along. I remember a description in the novel that explained once he chose to eat a grape vine when she was at his place because it took a long time to finish it as a sign of being ignorant toward her; but indeed he was madly in love with her.  And if I recall it correctly she got accepted to a good school in the end which is the minor detail in the whole book.  Such sweet chick flick. I remember imagining a couple of the scenes in the book that I later sketched.  Nothing fancy but I enjoyed doing it.

Ah what would I give to live those nights again, despite all the confusions and all the unknowns and all the stress for not knowing if the desired future would ever be.

Driving home today I was listening to Ebi, The Story of Love (ghesseye eshgh), like I did this morning and yesterday and the night before that.  I basked in it all, in the tone, in the words, in the meanings, in the screaming desires: "... The story of your love is in my voice again
A drunken night is awaiting me again
There is no more than one breath between the two of us
What restlessness is in my nights again"

Indeed there is joy in singing when you relate to it; either by feeling it is being sung to you or by feeling that the song is your words.  It is as if you are living many different lives, as Z. joon might have said.

Nice!

"Don't compare yourself with anyone in this world.
If you do so, you are insulting yourself."
from the game Alien Strike
Love it!

Scary Illusion

I still sound like myself.
Driving to work I got caught in traffic, again.  Hence, it was a long drive with lots of break and go and I was trapped in this quiet can called my car.  I turned on the radio but it sounded horrible to my ears.  So I turned it off and not bearing my thoughts I impulsively called my mom to regret my decision by the sound of the first ring, I was not in the mood.  Luckily, I got the vmail.
Sitting in the car I was thinking about all the floating thoughts and watch them get louder and louder.  They were deafening!
I finally got to work and slid into my cube and got busy.  Busy working, busy responding emails, busy composing some.
It is Halloween tonight and I was supposed to wear a costume to work but I found no appetite to put on all the make up required.  I bailed at the last minute.  Especially because I felt I already looked scary because of all the scary illusions in my head.
I felt I looked different already.
Ring.  The phone rang.  I hesitated, would I sound different?  Would I sound sad as I felt so?  Would they hear the tears that were blocking my throat?  I had to respond.
Hi Lady J.A. I said.  And paused.  Did she hear me?
Happy Halloween she responded!
Phew!  She didn't hear me!
I could keep up with this costume.  No make up needed.

Life

Sometimes it feels as if I am that Leila being dragged away into the depth of the desert night, unnoticed in the crowd of the caravan; but strangely it feels as if, at the same time, I am the lover of that Leila, left behind, forbidden to be with her, to meet her, to have her; hopelessly watching her go.

Sometimes it feels as if I have been observing my life being lived.

5K Run

I never ran a 10K run, even though I had thought about it and aimed at it.  It was not indeed me.  It becomes too boring for me to run.  Although right now my only exercise is a 2.3Km walk/run every other night that takes me about 20 minutes to finish.  In addition to a healthy exercise, it is a mean to depressurize the day.
Yesterday, however, M ran a 5K in 25 minutes and 27 seconds and broke his own record of 27 minutes.  He just started running about two months ago.  I am proud of him!

The Fog Mystery

It was a rainy afternoon.  The kind of rain that had weightless drops with no rush to fall on the wet ground.
She walked the single street in downtown toward south and hardly got wet except by a layer of moist on her cloth. The street was deserted with only a few pedestrians walking hastily to find a shelter, some even holding umbrellas.
She sat down by the curb under the cafe's canopy; she was the single patron on the balcony.  She positioned herself toward the southern hills.  The hills were still green with layers and layers of fog covering  them with different intensity at different elevation, alluring her with a tempting mystery.
Her mocha and panini arrived; the cup was steaming hot, bitter, foamy, creamy; just perfect.
She felt the moist of the rain on her fluffed hair, then sat back to breathe in all the freshness.
Suddenly, she heard a footstep behind her, contently walking toward her, not running like all else.  She had called him and now here he was coming to join her for the evening even though he had said he wouldn't.  She got her mocha to go and walked to the fog mystery with him; never more understood.

Business Smart Fashion for Fall

Black tall boots with comfortable short heels, a finely knitted black dress, and stockings (rather sheer).

This attire is compact to pack, it is easy to maintain, it matches any accessories, and above all, it looks smart.  I have proof for that.

I travelled to Oregon last night with a tiny bag that carried all my stuff.  I spent less than 6 hours in a hotel room.  I had enough time to sleep for four hours and 40 minutes, to take a quick shower, and to recharge my iPhone and iPad.

I met with our sales representative, J.R. around 7:34AM in the lobby.  We headed to the Starbucks on the other side of the street where we were served by a very pretty, blue-eyed blond-curly-haired girl; just my opposites in terms of features.  She looked innocent; I think it was her eyes; and I was happy to look at her for as long as I did as J.R. took some time to pick his pastry.

After a quick chat about the account we were going to visit with my colleague we walked back to his car and drove down to the acount.
The downtown area where my hotel was located at looked clean and un-crowded for an early morning rush.  Soon after getting out of the downtown district we reached a road on a hill toward the hospital.  There was a green forest at one side that was a refreshing surprise.

Our meeting was going to happen at the hospital.  The hospital was located on top of a hill with a nice view of the city.  It was in there that I concluded that the people of that city were friendly:

In Oregan it was clearly the beginning of falls as it was chilly and most people were in jackets and even scarves.  It was grey and cloudy.  One would anticipate grumpy people delved in their misery until next spring, especially in a university hospital to where people with problems would come. Not at all!  Inside the hospital, people were walking calmly, no haste, no grumpiness.  They appeared friendly, smiling at strangers (me).  They would excuse themselves for being even close to bump to you (not yet bumping you).  They would hold doors and take turn in getting in and out of elevators.

We got to the 11^th floor where I got introduced to Dr B., the main person I wanted to meet in this trip.  We had never met before but I had sent him one email the day before to introduce myself and announce my intent for the visit. He was busy with cases and mending his interns so we had small talks here and there until finally we were summoned to his office.  As soon as we sat down he said: “so you are in marketing but you are an engineer”.  I was like “!!!! How do you know??!!”.–“well, you are smart and honest.” –“!!!”

So, when I stopped at lady’s room I took a good look at my image.  This was a smart and honest looking lady.  But what was fascinating was how he said I WAS smart and honest, not that I SEEMED smart and honest or I LOOKED smart and honest.  That was neat!  I suspect that it is the smart looking attire ;)

About Portland

The district close to downtown is called Pearl District and has a rather modern vibe to it.  It has old factories converted to lofts, condos, and little shops.  There were small boutiques with modern arts and furniture and quite a few book shops.

I asked J.R. about a local coffee chain to which he responded “stumptown”.  The mocha was just fantastic!  It was indeed bitter with no overwhelming sugary taste, it felt creamy and rich.  I miss its taste already.

Many people walking on foot and apparently the public transportation is well-programmed.

I liked Portlandas far as I could explore it in a 14-hour business trip.

Suddenly Wishes

Suddenly I have this pressing urge to change a few things and to improve, both professionally and personally.  My mind is pretty scattered about the subject.  I am thinking about academic programs like masters degrees, or courses and seminars; I am reviewing books and I have borrowed a couple from the library browsing them in between chores and A's demands and sleepy times. I am thinking I need to talk to a few valued people and seek some guidance.

I am feeling restless at times thinking how pushed back I feel by the conduct of some individuals.  I think I need to work on my self image and redefine myself.

Then I get in argument with myself whether or not I need all this.  I keep comparing myself with who I was at school a decade ago.  How determined and self assured I was and how, in the course of time and distance, while life was happening, in between feedback and judgement, in comparing cultures and languages, I lots it.

I know it is very unlike me and it pains to even admit to this down time full of doubts.

I know I am tired.   I know I need a vacation, just some time away, afar.

But for now, here I am.  And what is funny is that I am conducting fine at work, A is happy and healthy and progressing with school, M is calm and content with me, home is well maintained, friends are in touch, family is doing well.

It is only me focusing on self defined failures.  I wish to change this.  I know it does not take books and courses and seminars.  It takes a second to change back.  To stop comparing myself and just be.  I am.

Cherished Coffee

When I was living in Toronto, I had assigned coffee shops for each friend.  Therefore, it was not the coffee that brought me there but the fond memories.  Even the ambiance of each particular shop, even the chain ones, reminded me of the feelings and communicated thoughts in presence of the individual friend.
The trend continued with me in Bay Area, more or less.  Not as strongly I admit, since I do share coffee shops; still, the couple very special ones are reserved for the couple very special friends.
This afternoon, driving home, something really sweet happened.  I was on the phone with my darling RN.  She told me that it was the National Coffee Day today and wished we could have coffee together today.  And then, sipping coffee while on the phone with me, she brought up the point concluding that she was actually having coffee with me on such a day.  I smiled to myself, admiring my instinct for saving the one special coffee place for this real friend.

Memphis, TN

My first trip to Tennessee.
First night in Memphis has left me with an interesting impression.
When I got here the sun had already set but I could get a glimpse of the Mississippi river.
After five and a half hours of combined air travels I was feeling tired and a bit stuffy; thought would enjoy some soup.  Alas at the BBQ place we had dinner at there was one choice of salad and no choice of soup.
Post dinner I walked to Beale street with two other colleagues.  The street was closed to traffic and there were bikes parked on both sides of the street at 10PM.  One could hear music, Blues, coming out of the overcrowded bars.
As soon as we turned away from Beale it was deserted and quite.
My hotel room is a large suit, too large for one person.  There is streetcar rumbling below.  It is 11:30 and I am expected at the breakfast bar at 6:30AM.
Good night Memphis!
PS: Working on new ideas...

A translation

"My heart is from the sea, the spring is my prison
The droplets of water are singing the song of death to me
In my veins, instead of blood
There flows the song of departure
I'm not giving in
My stay is my death"

A Movie

No Ones Knows About Persian Cats (2009)
Directed by Bahman Ghobadi

Almost no doubt it didn't have the permit to be published in Iran.
A bunch of kids, young adults, wanting to play, produce, and publish music... As simple as that. As hard as it is over there.

The way they look, their hair styles, their shirts even sometime didn't sit well with me. But that's their choice.
The words in their songs were so simply sad, sorrowful. The simple rights like being able to watch Grammys on TV. As simple as that which may sound funny. Makes me smile with a bleeding heart remembering the first time I watched Oscar on TV, live!...

Why? Why?

A sad sad day

I did it again.
I was thinking about him, a sick coworker who was always very kind to me; who was on sick leave and still called me a couple months ago saying how he had missed me and how miserable he felt with all the surgeries he had to go though.  I remember how he talked for more than 30 minutes when he called, I remember how lonely and bored and disappointed he sounded.  And how he mentioned that he hoped to see me again but didn't want me to visit him in that condition.
I was thinking just a couple days ago that I had not heard from him for a while, that I needed to find a way to contact him.
And now today I heard that he is passed away!
How stupid to take people's presence as granted and delaying the calls and visits to another day thinking they will wait and the whole universe will wait and all will be always available!  I had done this before too.  I wanted to talk to a colleague one day and I thought I'd do it tomorrow and he died that night. 
Another colleague has sent an email about his wife who needs to go through heart and double lung implant.
A friend's mom is terminally ill.
I suddenly feel so ungrateful for all I have.
He was a great man.  My God bless his soul!

Untitled

All the great names...
All the explanations to try to define only aspects of the unexplainable...
Suddenly it is obvious how tiny I am; suddenly I feel the wholeness; suddenly it is doable to let go; suddenly there is nothing, absolutely nothing, but one thing...
It is suddenly so liberating, even if only for a moment!

"Sobhaanaka yaa laa elaaha ellaa ant"
Limitless art Thou in Thy glory! There is no god but You!

Wawona A18

We arrived at the site just past 9PM. If it was not because of a couple minor accidents we might have gotten here right before dusk. Luckily we found the site easily and set up the tent under the moon light in no time. People around were still up so we were not too noisy for the crowd. We could hear the sound of a running water close by but couldn't see anything except for shadows of the trees behind the site.
A was asleep when we arrived at night so in the morning it was a surprise to find himself in the tent with mommy and daddy. He was bright and early and very hungry.
He ate two boiled eggs, one cup of fruit loop cereal, one box of milk, one bagel with cheese and cucumber, and half of his lunch sandwich!  Just very much like "the very hungry caterpillar". But thankfully with no stomach ache;)
We started the exploration by joining the Junior Ranger program. A did good actually and in the end said a pledge to take care of the wild and then got a neat badge.
We rode our car to the valley,  entered through the tunnel. The view right as the tunnel ends and the valley begins is just magnificent. There was the valley, the half dome, and a couple falls right in front of us.
We had our home-made sandwiches in the valley and took a slow hike towards the Yosemite Fall.
After an hour of doodling and bribing for treats, we finally finished walking the half twenty-minute walk and got to the base of the fall. It was funny how to the same number of rocks at the base you could count the number of people climbing and jumping and sitting on the rocks inside the water. And there goes my sunny water-loving son. Took out his hiking boots and socks, rolled up his pants, and in the water he went. He went back and forth climbing all the reachable rocks however many different ways possible.
The walk back was faster. And the ice creams in the Deli, hmm, not recommended.
We made hot dog on fire for dinner and then sat by the creek and watched A throw more rocks in the water. Finally, at dusk we joined another ranger talking about mountain lions. She claimed that they are the mamal with most names spreading from north to south. She was for sure fascinated by them.
The second night seemed short as I woke up only a couple times and could go right back to sleep.
We spent the day hiking in Mariposa Grove. There were times that it was the three of us walking. So we would start singing the songs the three of us could sing to keep the formidable mountain lion and rare black bear informed about our presence.
A was a good sport. He was truly tired after a couple hours though. As soon as we got in the car post a quick picnic lunch he fell asleep, a very deep kind I don't remember him in since his toddlerhood.
Now back to the city and all the hustle and bustle.

Nine-day Summer

It was the last day of summer camp for A. His first day of school is on Aug 22nd. We decided to make it a short "summer" for him. So, for starters, we are heading to Yosemite for two nights of camping.
I wonder how he is going to feel staying home for the whole week.

So Long U.K.

Finally I am at Heathrow to leave.  Ah I don't want to even think about my 11 hour flight I am just happy right now to be at the Star Alliance lounge, sitting actually in the same spot I did last November when I was hear.  It is a blessing to be able to relax a bit; although I slept well last night I am very tired.

One observation to share: Britons are not as much of a consumers as Americans are.  Over and over I saw very old appliances and stationery's and equipments and furniture in hospitals and hotels.  It seems that it is common practice to consider that as long as something is functional there is no need to renovate it.  Which is indeed "green".

A couple of the hospitals were really really old, I could imagine WWII victims laying down in the corridors.  door after door and underground pass ways although equipments were fairly modern  but the facility itself was indeed old... but they said they were building new facilities for both of them.

So long United Kingdom!  It was a pleasure like always!

From Thursday: Cheers Dublin

It has been a surprise that I got to go to Dublin in this trip.  An in-and-out journey.  Arrived at the passport check gate around 10AM and the lady asked about the duration of my stay.  “Six hours” I responded.  She was surprised and then invited me to go back for a longer stay.  Nice of her.

It has been a very busy journey indeed.   I got to go to Croydon from Oxford, then from London took a train to Hull, then rode back to Heathrow, then flew to Dublin, and tonight shall ride to Cardiff.  Staying in different hotels in different towns and cities every night.  I must say I think it has been a tiring but very fruitful visit.

I really like the British people.  They are so proper, and they can be very nice.  They seem actually pretty direct to me, albeit polite.

People in North are particularly well-know for being nice.  I was "love" and "my love" and "sweetheart" to whomever I asked a question of, like where I could grab some napkins at the hospital cafeteria.

I cannot wait to go back home and hug my A.  I got to talk to M before boarding the plane and his sleepy voice sounded so sweet to me.  But I doubt I can talk to A today, he was still asleep when M called, I am in a plane now with no reception, and by the time we land I suppose he will be at school.

At the same time I so wish I could go to Iran.  I am only 6 hours away.  It is Ramadan and I have not been with my family for this month for more than a decade now.  Also other reasons really entice me to go pay them all a visit.  Even for two days.  But I doubt possible.  The ticket price as I checked last night is horrendous.

"May Ramazan Be Generous"

I am grateful for this month. Please remember me in your prayers. I am going to quote from one of the most generous people I have ever been honored to meet; this one resonated well with me: "Ramadan is less something that we do - instead, it is a force field we enter and are transformed by".
And as he would pray "May Ramadan be Generous"!