just notes

rants...

2011-12-08T18:55:00.000-08:00

i wonder why i don't write anymore. sometimes i have a lot to say, but i don't know how to say them, or where to start.

tonight i am sitting here, studying for an exam. i just had a class in entertainment and media and we talked about psychology of markets. about how media companies are so sensitive to fads in the market and how markets are so irrational.

sometimes i think about very shallow things, like how insecure i am about the fact that i am getting old, and my clothes are tighter than before.

sometimes i think about life and how perfect life has turned out for me. and then i miss my dad, because if my dad was alive and happy, life would have been even more perfect. and if i lived closer to my mom and sister whom i miss terribly every time i enjoy a german beer.

i especially miss my mom. the thought of her getting old and fragile frightens me. the thought of her dying...well, i do not want to imagine that. but i want to be close to her. close enough that i can see her on a whim, for an afternoon tea, which is a very civilized thing as my new friend, an old guy from the upper west side would say.

the weather is nice in brooklyn, and my room is warm and sunny. i open the curtains to let the sun in every morning and the rays of light add to my fragile happiness.

night is beautiful too. the walk from the subway in the empty streets, sometimes accompanied by the sound of the wind, sometimes by verdi. i like the night. i like feeling like i am protected from the bright harsh reality of the day. from all that noise, all that bore of the outside world.

i am living my 30s to the fullest. or am i?

spain

2011-06-04T20:30:00.000-07:00

just got back from spain, after two weeks of vacationing. i am well-fed (read fatter), tanned and very relaxed. i don't know if i am ready for real life yet, but it certainly was a good time. we arrived in tossa del mar, which was a beautiful if expensive beach town. the mediterranean is surprisingly blue, and very cold this time of the year. the first day on the beach i forgot sun lotion, so my skin was completely sun-burnt, so i was pealing for the rest of the trip. but the sun was very pleasant, especially after the rainy and gloomy spring of new york city.

the second stop was barcelona. cosmopolitan, yet relaxed, barcelona has good food, beautiful women, a picturesque sky and a lot of gaudi. gaudi was simply everywhere. i enjoyed the museums, small cafes, and walking around looking at the buildings. it was also nice that my school friends were in the city to hang out with us. we partied until 3 am one night, and still showed up at the train station at 8:30 am to catch a train to figueres just for the dali museum. the town is about 2.5 hrs from barcelona, so that took a lot of dedication, and was well worth it.

the highlight of the city might have been the Barcelona-MU game. we saw the game at a "exclusive" bar, tucked away from the craziness of the city. the bar was run like a co-op and only members and their guests were present that night. a large unpretentious space with minimal furniture and cheap drinks, the bar was a perfect place to see the match with some very excited fans. and then barcelona won, so we took to the streets. the celebrations were more like riots . it reminded me of the riots in iran, when the students were protesting and were getting attacked by the police. it was weird to think that this is happening after a football match, but i guess the spanish are going through some tough times of their own.

the next day we flew to Seville. if someone asked me what i think spain would be like, i would probably describe Seville. the town was absolutely spanish. the yellow buildings with cute balconies and narrow windy streets were mesmerizing. and the tapas was to die for. the best part: you didn't have to choose what item on the menu to order, you could have ordered them all. they were only 2 euros for god's sake!

granada and madrid were fun too. al hambra was truly remarkable, and the city views from the hill where the mosque was located on were breath-taking. seeing picasso's guernica was probably the highlight of madrid. although, we had some good meals there too.

coming home from such a wonderful vacation is not that exciting. but it is nice to be back home too.

die walkure

2011-05-14T18:45:00.000-07:00

i saw die walkure today in the cinema. i usually go to the met opera but today the performance was sold out. i also wanted to experience the opera in HD. so i went to the cinema. die walkure is by far one of my most favorite operas. definitely in top 5. i have seen two different productions at the met and i liked them both. but the movie experience was just great. first, the tenor was really really good. he was handsome, good acting, good volume and i think he sang really well. the soprano was really good too, and the chemistry of Siegmund and Sieglinde was so overwhelming on the stage. it was by far one of my most romantic theatrical experiences. i loved the acting, the music was marvelous and walkure is such a dramatic and romantic piece. i was sitting there thinking this scene makes me want to fall in love all over again. makes me want to experience the excitement and joy of young love, makes me wanna embrace someone that hard.

wagner rocks my world. i love the ring cycle. so naturally i was thinking about going to Bayreuth once for the festival. i checked the website and there is a 7-10 year wait for the festival....yeah, so that's not happening soon. but i will make it happen at some point. for sure.

...

2011-04-21T19:55:00.000-07:00

when i say to my iranian friends that my spiritual life is lacking in the US, they are usually surprised. at best they are skeptical, and at worst they are scornful. my spiritual life is lacking none the less. and for someone who is not religious nor spiritual, this might sound strange.

it isn't that i used to feel a connection with a larger entity and now i have lost that. no, i have not been a believer since i was an adult. but i was connected to something important and that was the eastern philosophy. it is hard to explain how that used to get translated into my everyday life, but it was a huge part of my life. from the Hafiz poems my father recited at every occasion, to conversations about the nature of love, human values, and the purpose of life, i was absorbed in spirituality in my everyday life.

it's not that i don't get into meaningful conversations anymore. i do. i talk about politics, economics and even relationships all the time. but these conversations are all outward-looking as opposed to the ones i mentioned. i realize that this is probably a function of age as well. i was in my early 20s when i left iran, and naturally, much more in search of a meaning for my life. now, i just understand life better and i know myself better, so maybe i am not as curious about the philosophical issues as much. but i still miss all of that.

nostalgia?

2011-03-05T14:19:00.001-08:00

I'm thinking about my father. maybe because i am going home. or maybe i am completing the process of grief. it occurred to me a few days ago that i will never see him again, ever. you might think this has occurred to me before, when he died about 1.5 years ago. it did, but it never felt this way. the way it felt back then was very sad. when i thought about his death, i used to think about the process of dying. what was he thinking when he took the last breath? did he know he was dying? did he think about me, my mom and my sister? or was he clueless?

the way i thought about his death yesterday was different though. it was more than just him dying. it was about him not being there: not being able to see my life taking place. not being able to participate in it.

i miss him. and every time i think about him, i immediately think about my mom. what if she dies? how would i be able to live with that? and i know i will, and thank god for humans' capability of adapting.

but adapting is sad. sometimes you just wish you didn't have to adapt.

i'm travelling home this week. it is always emotional and conflicting. it makes me the happiest and saddest person i ever am.

on the bright side, i get to see people i love and eat delicious food. i am thankful for small pleasures in life.

dream of freedom

2011-02-28T08:02:00.000-08:00

I am listening to the radio and two foreign policy experts are talking about the Iran's green movement. the guy mentions that the green movement in iran does not have the support of the majority. that most people in iran want an islamic republic, in the current or a reformed shape.

my first reaction is that you obviously don't know anything about iran. but then i think about something that i have thought about time and time again: how much do i know about iran? how homogeneous is iran?

i obviously lived a sheltered life. i was the daughter of an intellectual secular family with an almost western upbringing. it's not that we were rich, or poor for that matter, but we were different from many people. for one, we were non-religious and untraditional. my father was a feminist in his words and a socialist in my view. our family friends were of our type. they were educated, non-religious, political and open minded. even when i was in iran it was obvious to me that we are different. i took pride in our being different. i saw my family and myself as rebels against the authority of this regime.

but did i learn nothing about other people? i mean i went to school and worked with all sorts of people. true, i tried to stay away from the ones that had too different of ideologies, but i had friends from all sorts of families. i worked in a rural area of iran for about 1.5 years and i travelled a little. did i not learn anything about iran? i don't believe i didn't.

yes, iranians are not all like my family. they are religious, judgmental and strict in their world views, but most of them are sick of the islamic republic. the cab drivers and passengers alike blame the government for their misfortunes. unemployment is a bitch and inflation is eye-popping. there is no certainty in the future and tension is high. people are angry and tired. they don't know how they will be able to afford the cost of living. they see the theft and experience corruption first hand. they feel stifled and tired. they want freedom. and i believe that they are wiling to pay high prices for that dream. the dream of a democracy, where oil money is put to good use and the future is bright and clear. where abuse is justly punished and the criminals are brought to justice. we have not and will never forget the cruelty of this regime. we want peace, justice and freedom. and i believe in it when i say "we".

happiness

2011-02-17T09:52:00.000-08:00

a professor was giving a talk about happiness. she was listing the happiest con tries of the world and the reasons behind their satisfaction. the happiest country in the world was listed as Denmark.

my first response was: "sure, it's obvious. they are wealthy, educated and healthy. and they have a socialistic country that takes care of them when they need it." but then she compared other countries with similar characteristics. Germany, France, Italy, Sweden, Switzerland, etc.

it turned out, the most important factor determining happiness is expectations. apparently Danish have low expectations of life. they don't expect to have huge amounts of money, extraordinary careers, big houses or luxury cars. in fact, every year they are pleasantly surprised that the state of affairs in Denmark is not completely rotten.

now, think about that for a second. i had to pause and reflect on it for a few days. this is huge. this is telling me that the lower i expect from life, the happier i am. (assuming basic levels of well being). completely counter intuitive, right? maybe.

it made me think about my relationships. does that mean the happiest relationships are the ones that the couple have the lowest expectations from each other? does that mean not having standards make you happy? if you are a beer snob like me, you get annoyed when all is available is budlight. but if you have low expectations, you can't be disappointed.

i have to say, i am conflicted by this. if in search of quality we lose happiness, do we want to pause and lower our expectations? or do we want to accept that we just can't be the happiest people because we can't have low standards. how much control do we really have in setting expectations?

2011-02-11T07:54:00.000-08:00

i haven't written for a long long time. in fact, i have not had enough time to reflect on myself. i was too busy managing the events of the outside world that i nearly lost where i am in the journey of life. this all sounds too philosophical and i am a fairly simple person, but there is some truth to it.

when you see yourself with the eyes of the outside world, your view of yourself becomes very narrow. in the past few months i was focused on finding a job. and finding a job requires me to look at myself from the employer's prespective.

this is truly the first time i have ever looked for a job. in the past, the job has always came to me either because i was a good engineer or because i knew the right people. but this time, i was not good at the job i wanted to take: i have never done it before. and i didn't know anyone. let alone anyone that actually mattered. so convincing people that they should offer me a job was a task that was a bit beyond me. now, it's true that i am in an mba program and we, mba students, tend to think that we can do just about any job and be good at it. i can't say that i fully believed that, but i am convinced that i'm smart enough to learn just about anything in a short time.

the interviews were very different depending on the company and the function. in many of the interviews, the interviewer just asked many arbitrary questions and gave me some business cases to solve. i didn't get my dream job, which was only my dream job because the company is very high profile. but i got a job that i feel good about. and the reason i feel good about it is that i think people in this company took time to get to know me. the interviewer asked me about my upbringing in iran, about my transition after immigration and about what interests me in the business world. i really appreciated that he is curious about me, and not only about what i have prepared to say.

well, long story short, i took the job and i will be spending all of the next summer at a job i know nothing about. but i anticipate it to be a good experience. a learning experience that pays. so i am happy right now and i get to spend this semester doing whatever i want. i get to be curious without worrying about getting a job.

i am happy even though it's winter. and winter always wears on me. i also started rock climbing again which is just awesome.

busy goodness

2010-10-30T09:55:00.000-07:00

school is mad busy. i don't have much time to catch my breath. but it's the most exciting period of my life (maybe after the first time i was in love). i feel like a world of opportunities has opened in front of me. i feel like i am growing as a person and as a student. i do well in tests, i build good relationships, and although it is crazy, i am on top of it. being on top of it all is something i didn't expect from myself. also, i feel like i'm much more of a people's person that i used to think. this is such a steep learning curve that it might knock me out of the game. but let's hope not!

i love every minute of this. even though i don't get more than 5 hours of sleep every night

school

2010-10-08T14:33:00.000-07:00

i knew i was going to be busy at school. but this busy, i never thought. i don't think i have ever been busier than this in my life! between studying finance, accounting, micro economics, strategy, and then preparing for recruiting, i hardly have enough time to sleep. i think my average sleep hours reduced to about 6 hours a night. it's as if i have a really demanding job already. oh boy!

enough bitching. school is great. i meet a ton of people every day and i get to learn about the companies, the markets, economies, people, and everything else. it's such an exciting opportunity.

gotta love business school! (and i do)

2010-09-09T18:21:00.000-07:00

i'm all settled in my new brooklyn apartment. and it's been great so far. i love my room: it's big, and there is a dent with a desk that i could use as an study room. i have five windows which i absolutely love! i get both morning and afternoon light, something that i lacked all these years in my manhattan apartments. and being on the forth floor, in a residential neighbourhood with short buldings, grants me the refreshing late-summer breeze.

i don't know all-settled is a good word because i still need to buy a bed and a dresser and curtains and other stuff. but i feel like i am settled. i feel, once again, that i have a welcoming home to come to after a crazy day out there. as much as i love new york, living here is sometimes exhausting.

the school has started and i am meeting new people every day. i have about 400 class mates who are fascinating me. there are people from every background and every part of this world. and most of them are just really nice and friendly. there are of course the usual nut cases and arrogant guys and princess-like girls too. but that is a given. hanging out and making small talk is a little emotionally draining some times. i am one of those people who prefers to have one close friend than a few acquaintances. but in the past few years, i have realized that i should be more flexible. a couple of my really good friends have left new york, and i have felt the void of not having more friends. so this time, i will try to stay in touch with more people and hang out with them more often.

......

i just finished reading 1984. and it freaked me out from time to time. it was unsettling how relevant it was to what is happening in iran. and in other parts of the world too, but iran is a more tangible case for me. it reminded me of all the values that the islamic republic was trying to implant in out heads when we were little girls. the religous ceremony at the age of 9 to celebarate or woman-hood. the guilt from feeling excited about guys, and the shame and fear of having sex for the first time.

the book is just so real and alive, that makes me feel very pessimistic about the future of this world. will it always be the same? will there always be people from this or that country who live under a dictatorship? it has always been the case, so what guarantees that it will stop?

and yet, somewhere in the back of my mind, i know that it will be different in the future. it will be better. it has to be better.

back an apartment hunting

2010-08-17T10:23:00.001-07:00

i'm back in New York again. it's been a while. this morning i was driving in from new jersey and i glanced over and saw the skyline of Manhattan. my heart was filled with joy for a second. i have lived in this city for more than 4 years, but i seriously get excited each time i come back to it. i heart New York, i suppose.

so, now i am apartment hunting again. i have no idea how many times i have moved in the past 6 years, but i'm pretty sure it's more than 6 times. being a nomad for the summer was so much fun (and i saved plenty), but finding an apartment in the city is a real pain in the ass.

i am planning on moving to Brooklyn this time, because i simply can't afford the village, and i have exhausted living in Harlem. there was a point that i was really excited about living in Harlem, but for now, i'm done with it. i want to try a new neighbourhood, and Brooklyn is so much fun (well, parts of it are).

i have sent about 20 emails and so far have gotten one reply back! maybe i just don't sound friendly enough on my emails, or maybe it's my name (the only person who responded was a Palestinian girl, go figure). but who knows, it might just be the new york housing market. there are always a ton of people looking for rooms. you would think that a ton of people are moving out of their apartments too, but i'm not sure how that works. at the end of the day, the demand is high, the prices are jacked, and i am a broke student. but i have done this way too many times before and i refuse to be discouraged. i will keep sending emails.

2010-05-17T13:21:00.000-07:00

30 years old
jobless
homeless
and damn happy

who would think so?

Happy birthday to me!

expectations will haunt you down

2010-05-09T21:59:00.001-07:00

you have been waiting for it to happen for a long time
you have been dreaming of the day it happens
and it's always been peachy and creamy in your dreams
...
and the day it happens, a cold sunday afternoon in May,
is nothing close to peachy
in fact,
it doesn't even feel like this is what you have been waiting for

last few hours

2010-05-07T11:52:00.000-07:00

The last day of the job is exciting and unsettling. I have spent many hours at this desk in the past four years; productive hours and not-so-productive ones. I have gone through many emotions and moods. I have loved the job, been frustrated, and been ambivalent. I have felt lucky working with these people, and I have been very annoyed at times.

I have always dreamt of leaving the job. I have imagined the joy and freedom of leaving this job. I have imagined that I would miss these people.

… and the moment of truth is upon me. Today is the last day of my job, and I have all those feelings. I regret my decision, I rejoice, I obsess, I already miss people, I worry, and above all, I feel ready. As if my arms are open to embrace the next stage of my life: stepping out of my comfort zone, learning new things, meeting new people, and hopefully, more happiness.

These last hours are oddly enough, a little excruciating. I feel like I want it to be done already, i just want to get out of here.

When Oklahoma penetrates into your belly

2010-04-28T10:46:00.000-07:00

there is a new abortion law in Oklahoma requiring women who seek abortion to undergo an ultrasound, and listen to the fetus's heartbeat. there is no exceptions for rape or incest victims. based on this blurb, the law has no effect on the decision at the end. basically, this is a way of making your life even more difficult when you are making an already difficult decision. my problem with such a law is that it indirectly romantisizes the decision making process. that somehow the woman who seeks abortion is making a completely emotional decision, and since women are easily manipulated, a look at the fetus will change their minds. if only, the women realize that the fetus's heart is beating, presumably like theirs, they will make the humane decision,

now, i am very opinionated about a lot of things, but i don't know which way to go about abortion. i don't think abortion is right or wrong. to me, it is a personal decision, and a difficult one. maybe you should take a responsibility of your actions, and have the baby anyways, and try your best to raise her (assuming the pregnancy was a result of a careless accident). or maybe it's unfair to a kid to be raised in a situation where she can't have the basics, like the love of the parents. i don't know... but assuming that the women, or the couple, making that decision, are so naive that they have never thought about the shape of a fetus, is really insulting. and it invades people's privacy. why do people think that they can make a better decision that me about my fetus?

2010-04-08T15:12:00.000-07:00

it's liberating when you stop belong to your past. it breaks your heart too.

in the early years of immigration, i tried to adopt to my new home as best as i could. i tried to move on from the past, to build a new life. i wouldn't allow myself to visit my memories. like a photo album in a drawer, that you pull out only once in a while, i burried all of my memories somewhere in the deep corners of my mind. i detached myself from all those familiar faces and places. i did what i had to do to survive, to move on, to build something anew. i was going for a" global resident", a new identity.

and i succeeded almost perfectly. i feel more at home in new york city than i feel in tehran. i have an american boyfriend, i even write my diary in english.

but i am obviously not an american. i don't like the smell of bacon, and the idea of owning a gun turns my stomach. a big house in the suburb is far from my dream home, and i still have my accent.

i have stopped belonging to iran. but i don't belong here either. i can't say that i mind this identity limbo. i like the utter freedom it presents me with. and i like to pick and choose. i might not like bacon, but i love grilling burgers. and i do like being a permanent resident; the lines at the airport are much shorter.

but i don't mind it. after all, this is the freedom that i have been seeking.

2010-03-05T14:11:00.000-08:00

it's almost spring. i'm going home again, like i did last year. i'm going to spend the new year in tehran, see all the people i love, eat all the foods i enjoy, and be surrounded by joyful moments. but i also have to face a loss. a special person who isn't there anymore, and whose memories will be with me for every second of every day.

i'm excited for the new year, and i can't wait to see my loved ones. after dad's death, i realized that life is short. really short. and i need to take advantage of all the moments i spend with those i love. i feel so lucky to have so many beautiful people around me. they keep me grounded, and they get me through the gloomy and grey days of winter.

it's spring again. time to restart, and to overcome the sadness. there is whole new year ahead of me. much to see, learn, and love.

i can't wait to get on that airplane.

nostalgia

2010-02-08T16:17:00.000-08:00

i was thinking about childhood the other day, and about dad, inevitably. i realized his death was the permanent end of my childhood; the point of no return. obviously the real point of no return was a long time ago, but it never occurred to me that way. at the back of my mind, there was always a possibility, a flickering light, that i could go back to those carefree days. the days when i could hold dad's hands and be worry-free. the days when someone else was taking care of me... and those days are gone, forever. not that i am saddened by the end of childhood. but in a way i am nostalgic for it. the thought caught me by surprise. i feel the weight of this reality on my shoulders. it is like i am mourning for the death of my childhood, along with my father's death...

i miss my childhood. i miss my dad.

and i miss home.

fear

2010-01-08T15:08:00.000-08:00

there is a fear that makes you more cautious. then there is a fear that almost numbs your brain. the fear itself makes what you are afraid of, inevitable.

i wish i could stare the fear in the face and do what i need to do. knowing that if what i'm afraid of happens, i will be alright... i wish i believed i will be alright. that i could be happy again, even if the unfortunate happens...

i miss living close to my family. they gave me courage...now, i am a lot more fearful. as if i am still a child who feels helpless when left alone in the big world, among strangers.

name changing and engagement rings

2009-12-15T13:55:00.000-08:00

This is an old article, but it is intersting.

At some point the author says:

"Interestingly, over the past 10 years fewer and fewer women have kept their maiden names. According to a recent study by Harvard economics professor Claudia Goldin, based on Massachusetts birth records, the number of college-educated women in their 30s keeping their name has dropped from 23 percent in 1990 to 17 percent in 2000.* Goldin suggests that this may be because we are moving toward a more conservative view of marriage. Perhaps. But it may also be that the maiden name is no longer a fraught political issue. These days, no one is shocked when an independent-minded woman takes her husband's name, any more than one is shocked when she announces that she is staying at home with her kids. Today, the decision is one of convenience, of a kind of luxury—which name do you like the sound of? What do you feel like doing? The politics are almost incidental. Our fundamental independence is not so imperiled that we need to keep our names. The statement has, thanks to a more dogmatic generation, been made. Now we dabble in the traditional. We cobble together names. At this point—apologies to Lucy Stone, and her pioneering work in name keeping—our attitude is: Whatever works."

I find this way of thinking very unfortunate. The idea that we are past the point that feminism is only a matter of taste, is not only untrue, but also backwards. Just because we are not obliged to change our last names it doesn't make the matter unimportant. True, if this was the law, it would be a very different matter altogether and we, as women, would have to put effort and energy to change that law.

But principles matters as well. My last name is a part of my identity. I don't dwell on the fact that my last name is my father's (as opposed to my mom's), but I have lived with it for the past 30 years and it is mine now. I find it insulting to change my last name because it's what my spouse wants, or because it is convenient. It would be also convenient if I married a rich man when I was 20 years old and I never worked. It would also be convenient if I lived off of my parents money, or got my rich boyfriends to buy me expensive gifts. But i find all of those an insult to my personality and independence. And I do not choose to do something for the mere fact that's convenient.

The author also mentions "These days, no one is shocked ...when she announces that she is staying at home with her kids. "

When in the history people were shocked at the idea of a stay at home mom? Is this what we are championing for women these days? That the days of fighting for your rights is over, so now you can sit back and relax and roll back to your role as a traditional mother and wife, and never worry about the unequal sex laws.

Good thing that women who do not think that way are plenty.

This was a comment from one reader that I found close to what I think:

"Don't give me the argument that everyone in your family should have one name. In that case, why doesn't the man change it? To the poster who talks about diamond rings -- I agree; it's hypocritical to live off your husband's wealth but pretend to be liberated. In my ideal world, women would not be changing their names, there would be no diamond rings on engagement (or both the man and the woman would wear rings bought for each other), there would be no down-on-one-knee proposals (not even for the sake of traditions), and there would be equal division of labor between the sexes in the home and the workplace. I wish that the progressive, smart, and educated women of our generation would start putting their feet down about these things. "

winter

2009-12-06T14:03:00.000-08:00

it's cold again. in the past three or four years, i have become resentful of winter and the cold. i guess because i worked outside for most of the winter and i was never able to keep warm no mater how i dressed. the sinus headaches don't help either. i also cease to work out during winter because i like running and biking, but when it is below 45F, i can not even think of going for a run. so i basically hibernate during the winter.

but today when i was walking down the street along central park, for a minute i started to like winter. it was cold and windy, but the sun was shining. the trees, the beautiful tall trees of the park, had no leaves. they were grayish brown, but they were standing tall. i made me think maybe it's ok to stop growing for a little while. it's not such a bad thing to hibernate and prepare for a fresh start when spring comes.

i though maybe it's ok that i'm not reading as much as i like, and i'm not learning many new things. it's ok that i don't have a job i dream of, and i am still in a funk after my dad's death. it's ok not to be happy go lucky for a little while and let the winter take over. cause i am getting ready for a fresh start and i'm trying to gather some energy in my bones. i'm giving my head and my body a little rest before i take off again.

i think the tall trees of central park made me like the winter much better today.

free at last

2009-11-24T06:00:00.000-08:00

M is out of jail. it feels like it's been years. for the past 5 months, every time i thought about him, my eyes would tear up. i imagined the worst, maybe because i have an idea what happens to people in an iranian prison. i imagined him being tormented and humiliated. i imagined countless sleepless nights, bad food and terrible light. i had many nightmares; i was worried. but somehow, in every picture i had in my head, he was always standing tall. he was standing strong, and mocking the interrogators by his calmness, by his piercing looks. i knew that he is in peace, and proud of himself. i can't help but to feel respect and admiration for him. i have always felt that way about him.

if not for people like him, iran would be a lot scarier right now.

grief

2009-11-10T15:07:00.000-08:00

i wonder if grief is the same for everyone. i forget about my dad's passing a lot of times. it has been 45 days and it is easier than it was before. but even then, even when i went home for the funeral, i forgot about it every now and then. i would wake up in the morning, thinking about so many other things. and then it would hit me. as if for the first time: he was gone. gone. just like that.

i don't know how i am dealing with this. i am doing ok, i work, i play, i go out, i love people, and i plan for the future. but i feel like there is a hole somewhere. like when you warm up your apartment but you feel a draft that you can't find where it is coming from. i feel like i have lost some of my balance, some of my support, a part of me, a part of my strength, my sanity...

i don't want to think about it. i do all i can not to think about it. i watch all the stupid tv shows, i do not look at the old pictures, i exhaust myself at work... i don't let my mind wander. i hardly want to write about it. but my mind is not being deceived. i have dreams. i have all sorts of dreams about him, all the time. the harder i try not to think about it, the more frequently the dreams occur. there are good dreams and bad dreams. there are sad ones and happy ones. but there are there.

i can't control the dreams. sometimes i don't even want to. they are my connection to a world with him. a world that doesn't exist when i am awake. the world that will never exist. and i miss that future. i miss all of what is not going to ever happen.

i miss my dad.

dream

2009-10-29T13:26:00.000-07:00

I had a dream about my dad last night. I was back home, we were just hanging out, but we were hugging each other. My dad’s friend was there too. He said “I don’t know about you living in New York and stuff. I think you should come back and spend some times with him. My dad was just standing there looking at him with those kind affectionate eyes. He had a faint smile; that sad smile of his. He was happy to see me happy and he was sad that I was so far away.

I felt like something dragged me out of his arms and I woke up sobbing. He was so close, he was right there. I could feel him, smell his body.

I guess this is the closest I could get to him ever again.

The thing in my throat hurts. It hurts so bad.

2009-10-14T08:01:00.000-07:00

I can't write about it yet. I just can't. I will need a day to write about it. I don't have a day and the strength to do it now.

i do write down bits and pieces when i can, but i can't write about it just yet. as if it becomes more real if i do.

i will write about it soon, one day.

driving. in jersey.

2009-09-13T20:25:00.000-07:00

i've always liked driving. driving in cities or on highways, it doesn't matter. I enjoy them all the same. Except when it's too much traffic of course and I am driving a stick. but that doesn't happen often, not in the states at least. this past saturday, though, i had one of the least pleasant driving experiences ever.

i was going to south jersey to hang out on the shore for two days. i went down to new brunswick friday night and had a nice time with my friends from rutgers. the next morning I picked up a nice nissan centra, which I was pleased with it's acceleration and smoothness, in addition to the fact that it was $45/day cheaper than if i had oicked up the are in manhattan . since i have no sense of direction and have forgotten to print out directions or pick up a map, i decided to get a gps to help me navigate. i was going to head down the garden state parkway but the gps was giving me really weird back-road directions. i followed the directions for 10 minutes which led me to all the wrong roads. there was construction going on and the police had closed a couple of streets, so I had to use my memory from where i lived in central jersey to navigate to the highway. it was rainy and dark and foggy too. perfect beach day...

once i was on the highway i decided to look up the google directions on my blackberry and choose the easiest route. bad idea...i decided that he gps system is the shittiest technology i have had to deal with in a long while. and the google directions were even more weird cause it was directing me to I95 which was completely out of my way at that point. the navigation signs in jersey were not helping me a bit.

long story short, it took me 3.5 hours for the route that should have taken me about 2 hours and 20 minutes. and that momentarily ruined my desire for driving. so today, on my way back, I didn't follow the gps, or google directions. i just asked people, and it was awesome. i made it back to new brunswick in less than 2.5 hours and i really enjoyed my ride. i feel a little closer to my dad, who refuses to use technology a lot of times.

an over-thinker's morning thoughts

2009-09-02T05:58:00.000-07:00

i get to a point that i'm so mad at him that i just want to ignore him. i think about him vanishing from the picture and that doesn't bother me. i have all these imaginary discussions with him. i want him to be happy, but should i just give up? i mean i love him more than i think i do, but i am also resentful. he makes me feel so helpless that i just want to forget about him.

then again, feeling helpless is even worse that feeling nothing. it's destructive. i mean i can't make him happy, so by making myself unhappy i am just adding one unhappy person to this world. it's stupid. but i can't help it, it's unconscious. i have dreams of talking to him and seeing him happy and lively, and then i have dreams of him being so desperate and pitiful.

i know i think in circle sometimes and i know i always over think. but i really want him to be happy. why can't i make him happy? he is such a smart and good-hearted man. i wish he lived a happy life.

freinds are not forever...

2009-07-29T07:18:00.000-07:00

i miss N. it's not like i miss her so much that i want to see her right now...no, i miss her being my friend. we are not unfriendly, but we are not really friends anymore. obviously living in two different countries doesn't help. but that's not all. Sh and I are still good friends even though i didn't see her for 5 years. we are close; we click the second we see each other, we have things to say to each other; we talk about our feelings, things that happened to us, our plans, our insecurities, people around us, the past, the future...we are close, even though we don't really communicate all that much. the last time i saw her, she was still my best friend.

not the same with N; we grew up together, we spent numerous days and nights playing, camping, hanging out...we spent many many hours together, and we did feel close. i am sure at some point we were best friends. but for the past few years we were not. it started right before i moved out of the country, and went on... it was probably my fault, i was being too harsh on her at one point, maybe too judgemental...but i really wanted the best for her. it was my intention to protect her; it was obvious to me that she was making a mistake that will have a big impact on her life. i wanted the best for her, but i didn't know how to convey that.

it is never a good idea to try to tell people that they are making a mistake, or to tell them what they should do; they will never listen and you will never become a hero. at best, you hurt their feelings and they get over it. at worst, they never get over it and you lose a friend.

but i wonder if i should withhold my opinion about something my best friend is doing. should i hide what i think? maybe...but i'm not sure if that's what i want to do. if i was doing something wrong, i would appreciate people telling me so. but there should exist a middle ground. i guess in the end, every one should be able to do what they want to do. and in the end, i should be good enough of a friend to respect their decision. i just wish i was not so self righteous, and they were not so sensitive. i can't afford to lose my friends to my being opiniated...

still, some friends are forever...

2009-07-08T09:28:00.000-07:00

somehow it's so hard to be chill these days. i think it has mostly to do with my job than anything else. i am usually a lot happier in summer time, but this summer all i can think about is that i have not much to do at work, and i migth get laid off any minute, and that i have less money than last year with a more expensive apartment.

i should snap out of this self-pity cycle...it's not like i can do much about the job thing. economy is terrible and 10% of people don't have any job, so i guess i should rejoice in just having one, even when it pays less. but somehow, that's not what my brain is fixed on.

and then there are my friends. my close friends have left the city and i feel like i need to have more close friends. and i have no idea how to go about this. sometimes i wish i was more independent, so i would need no one. but that's just not who i am. before, i always had a lot of people to choose from. there have always been more people whom i thought i could be close friends with. but that's just not the case anymore. it might be because i am more judgemental of people...or that people my age are mostly married or occupied otherwise. and then again, i am always going to be a foreigner...i should probably get over it. as long as i am moping, i will be unpleasant.

there are important things happening in this world and in my country specifically. i feel bad that i make a big deal of my little problems. but at the same time, this is a more tangible part of my life...

i hope these days are over soon.

2009-06-25T14:44:00.000-07:00

i am getting anxious, and losing hope. i see the videos from iran, posted online and ask myself "is it worth it?"...then again, what is worth more than freedom. isn't freedom what humanity has been seeking in the long history of our being? isn't the power to decide for your life what we all work for? we need to get back our basic rights, we need to teach a lesson to the oppressor. we need to be free...

i feel guilty and sad not being there, not being able to participate. on the other hand, my life has other issues here. every day i show up at work, i am thinking about the next round o lay-offs, about how i don't manage to save money anymore and about the chances that i get laid off without getting my green card. then i think about what people are putting up with in iran and i feel ashamed...it's kind of a vicious cycle.

i miss the fight for freedom. i hope my people could see the result of their courage.

2009-06-16T14:40:00.000-07:00

i feel so restless. things are happening and i am far far away from the scene. from the excitement, the hope for a better day; and the rage, violence and the bitter taste of blood. i don't know if i should feel privileged or unfortunate. it is as if i am watching a film, a days-long film, a crazy brutal film, which is powerful and full of hope at the same time. i feel enraged, i feel happy, i feel concerned, i feel hopeful, i feel sad, i feel helpless, and mostly, i feel far far away from everything that is happening. and i wish i was there, in between people i love, fighting for freedom, fighting for better days, fighting in hope of better days, fighting for hope...

my heart is with you my dear iran.

books and flowers

2009-06-11T14:24:00.000-07:00

i was doing some uninteresting cadd work and my mind was wondering around when suddenly i had this vivid image in my mind of these dried flowers that we used to keep in between the pages of books. there were tulip and violet and rose leaves. and sometimes we would accidentally open the books and the flowers would fall down, dancing in the air before they lay on the ground...for some reason that memory reminds me of my dad, when he was young, when i was a child and i used to love reading books. the books that he would buy me for my birthdays, for graduations, for any unimportant occasion..and there was always little snack in the gift wraps; a walnut, a piece of chocolate,...

i looked through my books this time when i went back to tehran. we kept all of my children books in a box in a closet. i browse through them, they were such interesting books. made me admire my parents for they had chosen those books with so much care. i can only hope i'd do the same for the next generation.

2009-06-10T17:05:00.000-07:00

everyone is talking about the election. it's all over facebook. and i am reading articles online all the time. everyone is excited again. and some people have got carried away. like every other time...

i wish i was in iran somehow. that i could witness this passion. the passion for freedom. the passion for participating and decision making. the passion that might lead us to a better place. somewhere closer to the path to freedom.

let's hope so...

Jacky

2009-05-27T06:59:00.000-07:00

we got jacky when he was maybe a month old. maybe younger. a friend of my sister has bought him, and he somehow just left it at our house, and we took care of her. at the beginning with suspicious and then with love. she was extremely cute and that was enough to convince us that she is going to be our dog, even though we really didn't know the responsibilities and difficulties of having a dog. after all, how hard could it be?

and jacky was a part of our family from then on. we loved her, we cherished her, we cried when he got hit by a car and we missed her a lot when we had to take her to our country house because the neighbours complained that he barks too much. she was more than what i ever imagined a dog could be. she was smart and every time one of us was sad or depressed, she somehow acted like she know what's going on...

jacky lived in our country house for the past 6 years. my dad was her main companion and she loved him. they comforted each other, and took care of each other in their own ways. my dad would get really unsettled whenever he would come to the city and leave jacky for more than a couple of days.

in my last trip home, jacky seemed like she us putting on weight. we thought she must have gotten pregnant in one of her adventures in the streets. she didn't have energy to run around and play. she moaned kind of sadly when i first saw her after 5 years. jacky has comforted me a lot of times. when i was emotionally drained and didn't want to talk to anyone, i would just hug her and sit with her tacitly for hours. she was big and fury and the warmth of her body was very comforting.

i had a feeling that it would be the last time i am seeing jacky when i left iran. and so it was. jacky died about a week ago. my mom gave me the news in an email. i didn't sleep all night, thinking about her and that how my dad must be feeling lonely. she died just two days after my 29th birthday.

i miss her. she was a good companion...

2009-05-20T07:36:00.001-07:00

the ultimate effect of protecting men from folly is to people the world with fools. - Spencer

election

2009-05-12T14:12:00.001-07:00

i didn't vote in the last election when ahmadinejad became the president. i remember people told me i should vote, and i was against voting. mostly because i didn't think any of the candidates are legitimate, but also, i reasoned, the larger number of votes would indicate stronger support for the islamic republic. ahmadinejad was elected and i remember feeling very indifferent about it. i thought there is not a big difference who is the president; the country is not going to change for better, or much worse. it was the end of khatami's term and i was only thinking about how much more could be done with his popularity, and how many things went wrong. but i seemed to have forgotten how the result of that election changed our country for ever. not only because we, people of iran, felt we have a saying in our country's political path, but also, because of all the positive change that followed the election of khatami.

four years later, i am looking back and think there were very few days in the past four years, in which i, an iranian who doesn't even live in the country, did not feel the catastrophic result of this past election. let's remember ahmadinejad denial the holocaust, his interview/speech in columbia university and the united nations, to the nuclear energy controversy and the threats of preemptive attacks, the unbelievable inflation of the past four years, and the increasingly deteriorating freedom of speech in iran.

to vote or not to vote...

i wish i could say: of course i am going to vote, and of course i know who i am voting for. that i believe in the competence, integrity and the judgment of this or that candidate. i wish i could say, my candidate is not going to lie when he campaigns and is going to execute what he promises, and is not going to be afraid to take action when it is needed. i wish i could say my candidate is a diplomat with the tools, knowledge and resources needed to run the country in the center of all different ideologies and for all iranian people.

but i can not say any of these. i can not possibly believe such a candidate could get passed the filters that the islamic republic enforces on the nominees. and i can not say from the existing choices, there is a single candidate that i trust, even in the loosest form...

but i can also say, my candidate, whoever it is going to be, is hopefully going to be a less horrible choice than mahmoud ahmadinejad and is going to run the country less horribly than him. and that might only be wishful thinking, but what else is there for me to do? because when your alternative is the worst, whoever you choose, is going to be better...

and i wish this was not the case.

london

2009-05-04T10:07:00.000-07:00

This is an unfinished note I wrote in london:london has a lot to offer: it's vibrant and diverse, it is green, the streets are wide, the architecture is brilliant. but it's also gloomy. you don't see the sun for more than 20 minutes every day. in some ways it's very similar to new york: interesting people, a lot of culture and a lot of shopping. it also reminds me of washington, dc. when you step out of downtown, the houses and the streets and the tranquility of the space is very much like dc. people are very polite and they are not as much in rush as new yorkes, but they don't look as boring as washingtonians. they say "lovely" and "brilliant" a whole lot, and they think americans use "awesome" very inappropriately. i have to say, it was easter weekend though, and i guess holidays make everyone nicer than usual.

night life in soho is much like the west village: ton of people loitering in front of the bars, and there are many many gay bars, and of course every guy who looks good is probably gay. so not much luck for the ladies. i went to a lesbian bar so that i won't feel the lack of attention, but there weren't many lesbians around, and the dj who was interestingly iranian, totally sucked.

i really liked big ben. the most interesting part of that building is the details of the gothic architecture. it feels like there is a lot of energy stored in the carvings of the facade. but i also just liked the huge clock. thames is not that impressive...i find hudson more interesting, less grey and polluted.

we went to suffolk one day to have the best fish and chips in england, as my hosts suggested. the scenery is very interesting; the river, the sky, the meadow and the sheep are almost the same color: a greenish grey...you feel you are senile aof what you might not like but must take...the fish and chips was good, not that I have a high standard of fish and chips cause I,ve never had it before i went to london, but the batter was light and fluffy and the fish moist. i can't give much praise to the fries, or chips, cause they were not that great. i think pommes frites in the east village does a better job.

wagner

2009-04-27T09:23:00.000-07:00

i saw a performance of "das rheingold", the first of four operas in wagner's ring cycle. i was really tired and contemplating on going to the opera, but i decided to go eventhough I might fall asleep. i have never listened to the opera before which is not good ever. mind you, the opera is in one act and it is 2.5 hours long. and there is not a lot of beautiful arias and uplifting endings; you only applaude at the end of this 2.5 hours.

the production was absolutely beautiful. the set was magical and the special effects were done amazingly well. i enjoyed the music when i was not napping, and i specifically liked waton, the ruler of the gods' role. but damn, 2.5 hours is a long time when you are not prepared for the kind of music.

so i decided that i'm going to study wagner a little bit. i chose "die walkure", the second and the most popular opera in the ring cycle, about 5.5 hours long including the intermissions. i had a book with commentaries and printed out the libretto and i downloaded the music so i can listen to it on my bus ride to dc. i listened to the first act of the opera, about 1 hour long. but i say it took me about 4 hours to read the text, listen to the music, play back to hear the leitmotives and just get a grip on the music. as i said, the style of singing is so very different from the "bel canto" i usually listen to, but when you actually get to know the music, you eally enjoy it. the story is also very interesting. So I gradually studied all the acts and listened to the music.

i went to a performance of die walkure last night at the metropolitan opera. and now i understand why you need to study the opera before you go. i knew the words well so i did not need to constantly read them on the screen and I could concentrate on the music. and this was totally rewarding. comparing last night's performance with the ones I have heard before and hearing interpretations of the different singers, gave me something to look forward to.

it's good to do some homework sometimes, is the moral lesson of this post!

2009-04-23T05:52:00.000-07:00

back at work. work is slow and i don't like it this way. i decided to enjoy my summer though, so i bought a yoga dvd and i'm trying to do some yoga at home. it's fun and it makes me shaky sometimes.

my sponsored kid christopher sent me a letter, which was written by his mom cause he can't write well just yet, about how he is doing and how school is going for him and that he likes to draw and play footbal. maybe i go to guatemala one day soon and visit this kid. i wanted to write him back but my spanish has really diminished over the past year. i need to take classes again.

i'm dreaming about my next vacation already. not that it is anywhere close but it aint hurt to dream. maybe i go to the boundary waters again, i really want to, but i also want to go other places. there are so many places i want to see. i wish i was 21 again...

2009-04-16T05:13:00.000-07:00

i'm at heathrow. it's funny how much i don't want to come back. although i love new york and living there, i do not want to come back. not a bit...

oh well....

bazzar

2009-04-05T11:31:00.000-07:00

i went to tehran's great bazaar yesterday for the first time. it's weird that i've never been there before. my mom has always wanted to take us there but she always faced with terrible resistance. i used to think the bazaar is a noisy crowded place with useless stuff. it was not like that at all; it was clean and there were a lot of good stuff, and they were cheaper than anywhere else in the town. it was also interesting in almost any way.

i wanted to buy a rug. my relative knew some one there who had a shop, or "hojreh" as they call it in the bazaar. it was the first day after the new year's holidays and at 12pm when we got there they were just opening their shops. a lot of them haven't even bothered to come. i guess because it was right after the craziness of the end of the year when people shop like there is no tomorrow. in every open shop 3 or 4 people were chatting or reading the newspapers. there were too many people doing nothing, or not much.

the rest room was unbearably dirty and stinky even for iran's standards. i got dizzy when i stepped in. i was thinking these people are among the richest people in this country, if every shop in this yard paid a dollar each month, they could have the bathroom squeaky clean. but they don't really care...how could they not though?

i bought a pretty rug. it has a reddish background and there is some blue in the corners. the guy (haji) who sold the rug was really nice and he chatted with us about his kids and living in the states and how many many years ago he has gone on a trip to germany with my grandpa. he said these days people are difficult to travel with; they don't go just anywhere and they need to eat halal meat.

i was having a hard time deciding which rug i like the most and haji told me: if i was going to ask one out of three sisters for marriage, i would be confused as well. that's why you should just take one home and see if you like it. and i liked the sister i borough home.

we spent 7 hours in the bazaar. we also ate a lot of snacks which was just awesome. good times.

2009-04-04T13:57:00.000-07:00

i noticed that i've lost all of my jaywalking skills. i can not cross the street like a tehranian! new yorkers think they know how to jaywalk, but they really don't. the most they do is crossing the road when the light is red and there's no car. in tehran though, people cross the street when the cars are coming at them. i mean they are coming at you full speed, like they are actually trying to take you out.

the thing is, pedestrians are vulnerable and that makes them bold. you know the driver is not going to risk it; he is going to slam on the breaks at the last minute. they are not going to hit you because they are scared of the consequences, so you just cross the street being faithful in their fear. and as irrational as it is, it is rational. fear is powerful; it is the reason people do a lot of things. on the other hand, there is always human error, and exceptions. it's improbable but it is still there. and it's not very wise to risk your life when human error is so huge of a factor. but there is really no other way to cross the streets in tehran: you will be waiting forever. there is also that adrenaline rush.

2009-04-01T13:12:00.001-07:00

i miss the calm of my own place. i miss being able to sleep whenever i want and not needing to speak with anyone. it's a little overwhelming to be around people all the time. the same way that being alone all the time is overwhelming.

i saw an old friend today. we talked over a nice bottle of wine. about everything and nothing, and listened to maria callas singing lucia. he is one of those people whom i met and felt like i've known for a long time. it's not every day that you meet someone and the conversation just flows.

2009-03-28T13:05:00.000-07:00

we painted my old room today. the walls are a kind of cream/orange color; the ceiling is white. the ceiling was the hardest. i painted it with a brush. it's completely different when you use a brush versus a roller. with a brush, you need thin watery paint. and you paint two coats each time in different directions. if the paint is thick, the second coat will remove the first coat. with roller you need the paint thick cause you get a better cover and it goes faster. i still need to do a third coat on the ceiling. that would just make it a lot nicer. and then we are changing the carpets tomorrow. hopefully someone will come by and finish the job by the end of the day. the carpets have not been changed in 25 years. i was only a year old when we moved to this house. all in all that was a successful project. well, if the carpet part goes well.

my dad was telling me that he would never paint the room this way. he was talking about how you should properly do this and that. and that it would probably take him 10 days, or more, and he would do a perfect job. he is right. the last time he painted these rooms was 17 years ago. i remember how long it took and that it came out spotless. but it took another 17 years and my imperfectness to paint these rooms again. i guess sometimes being imperfect at least gets the job done. and by my standards the place looks pretty good. i would have no problem living in that room.

2009-03-27T14:33:00.000-07:00

there are things that never change. or five years is just too short to change them. there are people i meet, and i feel like i never left them. the emotions run deep, the feelings are intact...

i like it this way.

dwelling over the past

2009-03-22T16:43:00.000-07:00

i remember that the first time we talked about relationships and that one might get involved emotionally and sexually with other people, i totally freaked out. i was not able to sleep for a couple of nights. i even almost left him; to me that was unbearable, i could not imagine such a thing. i was 20 years old and i've always been opinionated. i was not very experienced at all...

it was only less than three years later that it happened...i fell for someone else while i was still in love with him. i've never been so confused in my whole life, not even when i immigrated to another country. i was sexually drawn to the other guy like a maniac and so emotionally attached to him that my life was meaningless without his presence. i couldn't understand how some one can love two people at the same time: a love so different and so similar at the same time. i could not make a decision. i couldn't say no to the sexual experience that was like nothing before; he made me feel alive. before i go see him, my blood would pump faster than ever; the anticipation of being touched would make me run from the cab to his door. he helped me enter the realm of womanhood. and i couldn't say no to a love that was such a big part of my identity. he had helped me become an adult, he had helped me to free myself from the dogmatism that surrounded me. he made me a better me.

and then he showed me how he meant what he said that night...i almost didn't believe it's possible...he thought me to be myself, to be free, and to do what i believe is right. i will always, always love him for that. how can i not?

home

2009-03-20T17:44:00.000-07:00

i'm here. it took a while, a long while. it wasn't any over-emotional scene at the airport. i have always imagined that first moment when i see them will be very very intense. it wasn't; it was calm, exciting but nothing too crazy. i guess it is the effect of the years that have passed by. i feel a little old.

i had a serious jet-lag. it took me about three days to adjust to this time difference. and last night i finally slept like normal people. but it's 4:32am again and i am up...

the prices are shockingly expensive. they are almost as much as new york. i paid about 4 bucks for three scoops of ice cream last night, ridiculous...other than that, things are not too different. they are, but in a way, they are exactly the same.

the best part is to be home on the new year's day. i had a blast. it was like old old times. all my parents' friends, all the people i love like family. it was good to be a part of something familiar, something you belong to, something you cherish. i didn't feel like i was missed all that much. i felt like life went on, not too drastically different for anyone. they missed me for a bit, and then it was like i've never been there. surprisingly that doesn't bother me at all. in a way i feel good about it. i admire this strength in people to adjust to new things. i did the same thing, and it made me a lot happier compared to when i used to cling to my old memories.

we went to a party last night. i remembered the kind of fun we used to have. the stupid little jokes, conversations and flirting. it is strange how unfamiliar it all was, and how familiar at the same time. i had a really good time. i feel very good. although i don't think i want to come back and live here, i feel like i belong to this place and i like this place. and i like where i live now as well. if that makes sense.

uncle M

2009-02-27T07:18:00.000-08:00

Uncle M has passed away. I found out from my second cousin's status on facebook last night. Dad had called me earlier that day, I saw the missed call but he didn't leave a message. I was in a ferry to ikea in brooklyn and I was listening to bach cello concerto #3 and looking at the sunset in the river. I was thinking cello has a very earthly sounds and I was not in the mood to talk on the phone.

Uncle M was only 52. I remember him as the chubby-ish bald guy who was smiling most of the time. He was hyper in a sense, always noticable in the crowd. He had this beautiful cabin in kordan where we always hanged out with our friends. The last couple years before I move out of the country he was a bit manic depressed, and that apparantly was the case for the past few years on and off. But I don't really remember him that way. I stil picture him with his wool hat and glasses, smiling and making kabob for everyone. He was a very smart kind-hearted man.I'm pretty sure he was a very good doctor as well. And I liked that he was sometimes too straight forward, to the point that some people thought he is mean. But I value honesty.

Uncle M's birthday was the same day as mine. I used to call him every year when I lived in tehran. Most years he didn't remember his own birthday. I called him once from here; the last time we ever spoke. We will never meet again...that makes me really sad especially since I'm going home in two weeks after 5 years, and I was looking forward to seeing him.

2009-02-23T08:27:00.000-08:00

it's weird to think about home. there are all these familiar things that i know and i'm craving for. and there are all the familiar things that i am not looking forward to. and then there are familiar people who might be very unfamiliar now. five years is a while; they might have changed a lot, or i might have changed a lot...i know i have changed a lot, but in my core, deep down, am i not the same person? or that doesn't even matter?

P is excited for going back home too. she is also nervous. she hasn't been back for about 2.5 years. she has weird dreams every couple of nights and is losing sleep. i guess i feel the same way. maybe not as much but that's probably because i have lived with this for a longer time than she has. and maybe because i have a stable life to get back to, and she is going to be gradualting and she doesn't have a job yet.

it's economic crisis. i should be worried about my job, especially because my immigration status depends on my job. but i am not worried about it, after all, what can i do really?

gradually, i'm learning to take life as it comes. sometimes this means giving up, being soft, not fighting for the ideal. but sometimes, it is the right move. the move that keeps you insane and calm. i am seeking calm, i am always seeking calm. but usually in my life, the calm only comes after the storm...

"ta'rof"

2009-02-21T18:16:00.000-08:00

in iran if you see some one is wearing something nice and you want to comment on it, you say:

-nice dress
-that shirt looks good on you
-you look nice in those pants, or
-your bag is pretty

but you never say "i like your sweater". i guess because in the "ta'rofi" culture of iran, if you say "i like..." you would make the person feel slightly uncomfortable, almost feeling obligated to give what they are wearing to you. i know it doesn't make much sense and if you actually said "i like your bag" they would probably loosely offer it to you it and you would politely refuse. but the whole idea that you might feel even slightly obligated to give the next person what they like on you, is kind of ridiculous even to me.

on the other hand, if i am eating something while i'm sitting with other people, and i don't offer to them to have a piece of that, i feel rude. these two things are in nature similar. your possession (food, clothes or etc.) is essentially yours and you are the only one who has the right to use it, because you probably earned it. in american culture, you see plenty times that people eat and don't offer you to share with them, some times even if you are their guest and staying at their place...

i appreciate the hospitality of the iranian culture. i appreciate it that when you have a guest you make them feel very much at home. you give them the best place at the table or to sleep and you share with them your best food, drinks and even clothes. this might sound excessive but i understand it. i feel like i want my guests to have the best of what i got. i like them to feel like i really am happy about them being there with me, at my home. unless of course they over-stay their welcome or are too demanding...

there are so many things i love about the individualistic american culture. and there are so many things i love about the more socially minded iranian culture. and i wish to mix these two and have something in the middle. i don't think these two are mutually exclusive.

ps- mutually exclusive is probably one of my top-5 favorite words.

2009-02-21T12:40:00.000-08:00

i decided i want to write again. who knows how long it's going to last this time. it is very possible that it won't last long. but that shouldn't stop me from trying, should it?

this morning i woke up thinking i learn something new every day. something about myself, some new facts, something about my friends and so on.

the one new thing i learnt last week was about my tooth brush. now this might make me look a bit stupid, or maybe just not very attentive (which isn't very far from the truth). but here is the story:

i bought this tooth brush at least 3 months ago and used it since. only last week i saw that there are two tiny little buttons on it with + and - signs. so i pushed this tiny little button and what happened was pretty interesting...the tooth brush head started vibrating! i was very surprised and very puzzled at the same time. how did it happen that in the past 3 months i have never utilized this cool vibrating effect (well, maybe not as cool as some other vibrating effects but still)...how did i miss it, no really...

anyway, i did brush my teeth and felt squeaky clean afterwards. who knows if that little vibrating motion really does anything, but all of a sudden it's like i have something new, that i got for free...it's kind of funny.

that's it for right now. i have more.