yes, but does it travel eastwardly?

On a random drive up to my hometown yesterday, my spontaneous companion was talking about a person being "caught in the jet stream of fate", referencing how sometimes things just come together perfectly for a person when it's completely out of their control. I rolled my eyes. And then I saw this today and found myself whispering out loud "omg totally the jet stream of fate."


Muslim occasion letterpress stationery. Swoon. Sometimes stuff is just too cool. Maybe one day it will even be in Arabic script. If I had classy Arabic-speaking friends who could read and had a mailing address I would SO be ordering more than one of each of these. They even have tiny cute buttons that say "salam" and other fun stuff at the Etsy site.



Speaking of Ramadan...it's totally messing up my diet. I know, obviously, but hilarious. Today I ate half a sandwich, a tomato, two slices of muenster and a s'more. And I drank a little Green Machine juice that I just discovered expired on August 16th. Oops. Definitely not even the sketchiest thing I've consumed this week.

Ramadan is kind of awesome. It's amazing to gain total consciousness over what goes into my body and when (not so shocking that I would delight in control), which is especially meaningful because I work at Starbucks and sometimes realize that I've had my daily recommended water intake in coffee instead. I've been seeking to grow in kindness especially at work, where we often communicate only in sarcasm. I can't honestly say that it's going very well, so I'm glad that Ramadan isn't even halfway over yet and I still have time to hone my anti-sarcasm craft. Oh and I broke the fast at the mosque on Friday night and it made me REALLY homesick for North Africa. I can now say that I don't really love Sudanese food and I much prefer breaking fast huddled around a table with a family, drinking soup from a bowl and helping the little ones peel eggs.

to know

We sat laughing on the patio of the coffee shop, my finger holding my place on page three of the library book I'd chosen, his resting open against his chest. We had spent the afternoon wandering. First among rows of sweaters, pointing out contenders for the "maybe I should dress like a grad student" plan and the ones that matched his eyes; among books, losing and finding each other first at the book store, then at the library where the books are free and there are more chairs. He had indulged my love for argyle and I pretended to be horrified when he pretended to be in the market for a rifle. We disagreed slightly on styles of camping- he a former boy scout and I the proud owner of a gourmet camping cookbook.

I assumed we were ready for a break from all the acquainting, but our coffee, his hot, mine iced, sat ignored on the table. We got distracted from making a plan for dinner by telling stories about old friends and bad dates and the people who turned out to be both. He pretended to read when I answered my phone but then responded to everything I'd said. Even with the promise of the evening ahead, we still had enough to say that the books and coffee (my two favorite things) went unnoticed.

I've been under such strange circumstances for the past several years that I'd all but forgotten the subtle nuances of getting to know a person slowly from the beginning. All of a sudden the new person knows the names of all of your old people. You can brush arms without flinching or saying "sorry." Discussions about books and movies end with "you'd like it." There had been no lengthy introduction, but hundreds of tiny ones instead.

Once, someone said to me "I know that about you" and I am still convinced that those are perhaps the sweetest words to be uttered by a newly familiar voice.

The inside of my bag. Are you kidding me? I'm not even in school.

Silence

When it's quiet at sunset it's so odd not to hear the call to prayer echo off the empty streets; to sense the community sigh in relief.

Hey! I know that guy!

I took this picture with my phone last night at Inglorious Basterds. That guy in the middle is Paul Rust, who I worked with at my dorm in college. Pretty awesome.

come home crissa!

I made this!

NEWS FLASH

MY SO-CALLED LIFE IS ON HULU?!

http://www.hulu.com/my-so-called-life

*

settle.

Well hello.

So. Pending happenings unpredictable, I have moved into a residence where I will stay for more than six months! That's a record in '09! Five. Five moves in six months. Whew. There are still some little things to be done, I have to get a few more things from my parent's house and maybe acquire a bookshelf, but I'm more here than anywhere else and that's saying something. I have three amazing new roommates* who have welcomed me into their family, even though the first weeks have been a bit crazy. I feel like I've been busy and running around all the time but without anything to show for it, which makes me feel anxious. Although that in itself is telling of my personality I guess, that I need to have tangible evidence of what I've been doing instead of being able to see and appreciate the deepening relationships that are the result of my running from place to place, stopping only for ice and sparklers. Lots of laughter, many conversations and hours of latte-making have filled the last months. Can't really ask for much more.

My mom just mentioned that since moving to Iowa City she's heard from me less often than when I moved to North Africa. Oops. A lesson in intentionality in there somewhere.

Weather is awesome.