Fabulous

With her red shoes on and oh so dangerous three zipper mini she momentarily owns the sidewalk. Shimmering, glittering and moving to her own beat. Everybody stares and some with disdain. They can't understand her style. Amazing how some adore while others scorn but that is the way of the world. But she knows herself well and never fakes it, which sets her apart from the others. Hair flowing high as the wind hits her hard and sends her skirt flying up towards the sky. With a roaring laughter and a nonchalance for all the chuckles made at her expense, she quickly holds her skirt down. And because she is lost in laughter she trips in her ghetto gold high heel that she bought just for a random sunny day and because it was something she would never naturally wear. Tripping in a crevice --she is not embarassed because this is who she is. She is a klutz, a walking disaster, sometimes kooky but always laughing at her flaws and walking it off. Fabulous. Simply fabulous.

Midsummer's Night

It's a scent, a feeling, an emotion, a shiver down my spine. It is so powerful that even on a midwinter's night, I can feel it's warmth and presence. It keeps the harsh winds of January away from my soul and wraps me tightly in robes of silk. It is nostalgia as everpresent as the beating of my heart and it walks me through life day after day. We are one and we can change our pasts through the memory that we posses. A midsummer's night taught me that once as I reached for the stars, running through a corn field. Laughing, screaming and whirling like a dervish in sheer ecstasy. It was a midsummer's night that my memory has carved to perfection. Perhaps in that moment it wasn't as it seems to me now but it was real even if it was short lived. We were the night and we became alive in the darkness and unclarity. Those were the moments of obscurity in which our madness and uproar carried us to a place of nonchalance and stillness. It was all those things and yet none at all! We were but we weren't. We are but we never actually were. This is the way the mind forgets but also the way that it has the opportunity to remember.

Where's the cheese?

A friend of mine (who also happens to be a wonderful guy) has just recently proposed to the girl of his dreams. I am so happy for them. What's even odder than me being happy for a soon to be married couple is that I actually found joy in the cheesiness of the proposal. I'm not much of a girly girl but somehow the idea of someone loving another person THAT much is amazing to me.

So now I wonder if all the cheese in the world has been removed, used and now all the resources are dried up? Is there any more cheese left for the rest of us? If so, where's the cheese?! Show me the CHEESE!

I do think that there must be a distinction between too much cheese and too little. Too much of a good thing is always bad and can cause digestion problems. ;-) I personally don't like it when a man is so cheesy that he forgets who he is and decides to become a boring mass of submissiveness. I like people with opinions not people with only MY opinion. In matters of the heart, a man should be himself and stick to his ideals because it is sexy. He should be intelligent and ready to engage in stimulating conversations. But he should never be cold. There should be a tender side to him that lets you know that at any given moment in the day, he is thinking of you. He should plan romantic getaways or even random gifts with sentimental value. Men always think that women only want diamonds and expensive toys. The reality is that a woman will appreciate a single wildflower, a thoughtful note or a candlelight dinner. Even the most cynical woman (myself) appreciates the occasional thoughtful romantic act.

My dear engaged friend proposed to his beloved in a way that was special to the both of them. He put thought behind it and meant it. This is rare nowadays. We live in a cold and cynical age. Romance is either dead or entirely too Hollywood. Men have lost their creativity and they either stick to you like a tick or bounce right off you like a rubber ball.

Where's the balance?

Never here

One day you won't find me here. I'll be changed again and gone.
One day everything you thought you knew about me will be a dream and I will disappear.
One day when the day is ripe, I will no longer call for you.
The tone of my voice and the glint of my eye I will submit to be anywhere but here.
An alias I'll take and a trip later, I will be lost in a sea of stifling humanity.
One day I will realize that a day, a week and even a year will go by and you never knew that I was even here.

Sunday paper

I want to wake up in a king sized bed. I want to lay in the middle of it while in the arms of the man I love. I want to feel his heat and hear his gentle breath. I want to be lazy and wear my pajamas all day and watch movies while we make each other laugh. I want someone to stroke my hair and I want to stare into his eyes while he rests his head upon my lap. I want to share those blissful moments in seclusion where there are no other eyes to see. I want to share monologues and forbidden secrets while cloaked in candlelight. I want to hide away on a loft and listen to the rain. I want to whisper, but only his name. I want him to sense me even when he is not near and I want him to think of me when a familiar song comes on the radio.

Reading the Sunday paper, breakfast in bed.
Walking naked in the daylight and not accepting any calls.
I want to be delirious.
I want to be unrestrained.
I want to be.
I want to be.

But only sometimes... only sometimes...

"We are never deceived; we deceive ourselves"

Goethe (the astounding writer) stated it well and as some have pointed out in the past, love can make even the most intelligent go blind. Indeed, love can be deceiving. However, it is not in the character of love to be deceiving, it is in the character of the one who loves to deceive. When one looks upon their lover with love, they do not see inherent flaws. Furthermore, those flaws are often looked upon with compassion and with the eyes of a lover. In the Persian language, there is a saying:

"Chesmet ghashang mibineh"

This roughtly translates to, your eyes see beautifully. The correlation between this phrase and that of the lovers perspective is impeccable! There is a 100% match with regards to what I am trying to divulge here. The world may see the beloved with a critical eye and with no emotional attachment but the lover will only see the beloved with the altered perception that love creates. This is why love can be frightful and rather dangerous if not handled properly.

I must admit, as I wrote the last line before this one, I realized that there is a contradiction afoot! When one loves, they love entirely and without restraint. In fact, those who enter love with trepidation will never know TRUE love and all that it can behold. Therefore, my conclusion here is that it is absolutely amazing to love and be loved. It is one of the most powerful emotions that human beings possess. But one must know themselves well and know what it is that they want for their future before they fall. We can't always control when or with whom we will fall in love with but it is important not to forget who we are in the process. This is so that if we fall out of love we can pick up where we left off before the beloved came along.

AND....

My favorite sentences start with AND. As a writer and student who writes approximately 5-10 papers a month I know that it is not an appropriate word to begin sentences with. You know what though? This is the BLOG LAMA'S blog and I suppose I can be as incorrect and unconventional as I so desire. Hey, in the real world, we have to watch our backs and maintain conservative appearances. In this world, I am ME. :p

So here is a AND rant....

And you stood in the dead of winter among the decayed leaves.
And above your head the moon washed over you like an all encompassing heaven.
And all I could hear was the feverish pulsing in my head.
And you looked at me and shrugged with a crease on your brow.
And it was then that I understood that even running through the thickets, all bloodied and bruised, I would never find the path to you.

Silent Contempt

Slammed shut and a lifetime of contentment to be found. Silent contempt with screams of black and white. Nothing in color, certainly not now, but the rainbow is around the corner with luxurious gifts promised. There will no longer be pity or sorrow for there is no one there to hear it. The year will come and go as do all the rest but this time it will hold with it the knowledge of possibility. The possibility to love and to know what is in ones soul. But not just to know but to truly feel it and taste it. It is there.

While others bask in their own worries, we are awakened to the reality that we are alone in our sorrow and glory. In the end it is only me. And ..... that's not really that sad. :)

Sweet Jesus

"Mark, you've become more and more like Jesus Christ recently. All you need is to grow your hair out now and wear sandals..oh and don't forget the white sheet." -Me

"Honey, you don't like other people's good fortune." -Mark (directed at his wife)

"OHHHHH PLEEEEASSSEEEEE! Don't you pull that with me. I will get a piece of wood and hang you from it and put you there like Jesus." (His darling wife; who loves him DEARLY)

(Laughter ensues by the rather large family) ---large in number that is and not in mass! ;)

I love my family. We are vivacious, loud and well just like the family members in the movie "My Big Fat Greek Wedding".

Shabe Yalda

Happy Shabe Yalda to everyone! The longest night of the year! This night holds great religious and cultural significance to Iranians everywhere. On this night (once a year) families gather together and stay awake in order to recite stories, eat fruits, bundle up together under the korsee (a type of blanket) and play games. In the old days a fire was to be lit all through the night because Ancient Iranians believed that there was discontent between the good and bad angels. This battle would be lost to the good angels after successfully making it through the longest and darkest night of the year. So in essence it is and was a battle between light and dark you could say. :)

Ablaze

A rainbow sunset with blissful shades of gold.
Dusk and obscurity upon us.
We scramble in the dark, finding our way with arms outstretched.
But our path is unclear and cluttered with obstacles. The destination is painted in abstract with vibrant and sometimes deliberate strokes.

Envious reds shedding morning dew.
Passion and absurdity have awoken.
The light is blinding and still with it's vast abundance, we are blind.
We don't need light in order to see.

Narcissus bewildered

Under the shivering shell it was my soul that went numb.
The lucid crystal did not hold my future but it mesmerized me in a way that cannot be explained with words. Staggering under a rotating universe enmeshed and engrossed.

Two choices lay ahead my friend.
With meek and mortal eyes, I glanced at you. My glance, however painful, revealed an unchanged mask with hollow eyes. You beheld a smile both tragic and peaceful at the same time. I had been grasping at words spoken from those eyes for so long that without them it seemed that my world was momentarily meaningless.

But I found meaning in you even if you never wanted me to.

Bittersweet

And a week went by with a bittersweet taste.
Tumultuous serenity.
The mind never forgets but loses sight.

Rain storms in the summer are refreshing but cursed in the winter.

And so the week went by in vertigo. Vertigo and an aching for simpler times when we trumpeted happiness from the rooftops. There was no one to impress and we didn't care who was offended by our joy. Happiness found in late night pillow talk and dances in the rain. We were there.

I remember. There was momentum and speeds only imitated by large machines. But eventually the pendulum must stabilize and come to a halt. Our bodies and souls are not built for such intensity.
So moments of sheer bliss unhindered by the world were dissolved as is the cold when spring is so near.

The light changes when you're in the room

Looking for something, I know not what.
Strangled by the fog of uneasiness and dillusion.
Everyone is simple.
Complexity is incongruity with its villainous terrains and unpredictable turns. Find me beyond the haze and amidst the turmoil of reality. Meditating on the NOW in a trance, blurry, and oh so accurate!

I can feel your emotions on my skin and I know.....
I just know....

Looks like you could use some monkey love

"Ok, do me a favor. Turn to the right, just do it.
And pretend that there is a chimpanzee
3 year old chimp is watching the screen with you.
And he gives you a huge smile as you turn to look at him."

Sneaker suspicion

I will not submit.

I will not make myself a bride.
Heavy white cloths, limiting my movement, tangled and losing the ability to run.
No! Not me.
Bring me my sneakers and wipe that makeup off of my face.
There are far better things than "marital bliss".
You will not make a housewife out of me.

"I'm going to punch you in your ovary!"

Blog Lama's tip of the day...

Crying like a little child may help you to achieve basic things from your mate, parents or perhaps boss? However, you cannot expect to continue with such a pathetic manipulation tactic without getting caught. One day, the jig will be up my friend and you will have lost ALL respect from your friends and family....

GASP! Maybe even your soul mate!!!

Respect of our elders

Loyalty to our elders is to be cherished and cultivated as we grow older under their wing. They bring us into this world and hold our hands through all the difficulties that this life may force us to endure. Many cultures find that elders must be respected and their opinions should be heeded first and foremost. In the Iranian culture, we do not place our parents in nursing homes. They will live with us if we so choose or they will be nearby. In some instances, it is impossible to live close but we will always have our parents and family close in our hearts and on speed dial!

Iranians engage in communal culture. There is a sense of closeness and warmth among family that cannot be denied. Unfortunately, this beautiful attribute has been tainted upon mixing with other cultures.

American culture has many great attributes but unfortunately there is much ageism. Ageism has caused many individuals to place little worth on the opinions of elders or their work. Ageism has led to the nursing home culture, which in many countries would be found to be both disrespectful and unheard of.

And now...I see among Iranians a sense of disrespect which has come about due to improper intermingling of cultures, anger and frustration. I know of an Iranian man who repeatedly ignores the plight of his poor mother. She has given him life and he cannot even help her to gain her bearings now that she is in a state of exhaustion and desperation. I am deeply saddened that this sort of thing has happened to our beautiful mothers. Mothers who gave up their lives and their potential for simpler lives because they wanted to provide their children with the opportunities never afforded to them.

The youth will realize one day that the disregard and contempt that they had for their parents will one day materialize when they themselves have children. Karma always has a way of creeping up on us, one day.

There is no I in WE

Face it.

Everyone is coupling off and surely there is nothing inherently wrong with that concept. What is irksome however is when you ask someone to join you for a simple evening out and they say they can't because their boyfriend or husband or their owner (oops, did I just let that slip?!) has a cold, is annoying or you just simply cannot be without them. Woops! Where did you go? I think your identity just morphed into someone elses. I'm sorry, does that hurt you? Certainly you didn't think that this is a good thing did you?

Common excuses:

1) I can't come out with the girls tonight because my sweetie will be bored without me
2) I can't come out with the girls tonight because my sweetie stubbed his big toe and WOE IS ME, what will he do without me?!
3) I can't come out with the girls tonight because umm...well...he just doesn't want me to go.

As I have stated in previous posts, for some people this is not a conflict because they never had a personality to begin with. Hiding behind your man is comforting because HEY you never have to think for yourself again. Silly BlogLama, how could you have forgotten that you are merely a girl in a MANS world! Tsk tsk tsk....

My frustration is a result of numerous moments when I have simply wanted to jump over a table and slap the stupidity out of these women. Grow a brain, get a life and stop hiding in the shadows over others.

Free to be...

Free to be.

The obsession with freedom is among us. We bathe in our pathetic meanderings with one main purpose....to develop independent thought, to create a meaningful existence. Billions of lives and we take our own so seriously. We are not original. All humans grapple with the notion of significance in their otherwise bleak lives. Don't confuse me. I am not Camus, Sartre or any other existentialist that comes to mind. I do not think that the existentialist dilemma should be so dreary and absolute. Perhaps my point here is that our emotions are not original as much as we want them to be. We all suffer and we all get lost along the way. Some of us are able to fool ourselves better than others. Believing in fantasies and mystical entities to hold our hands through this amazing thing called life. Certainly, there is nothing wrong with a guide to show us the path of virtue or at least the path that suits us best. As humans we have an outstanding grasp of resilience under pressure but what we need to be given is hope. Hope is the light at the end of the tunnel that pulls us out of all miseries and gives adequate strength to rise up yet again.

Should this hope be external or is it found within? Aye there's the rub! Relying on external modes of support can be deceiving for they appear in an alarmingly fast pace and disperse just as quickly. Our support should lie within and in the power of the divine within us. Yes, the divine within. For what are we if we do not have a little divinity in our fragile frames?