tell the truth, son

Further to this post, check out this short clip I videotaped during the last AlMaghrib class in Toronto:



:)

This is it.

It has been a slow process of realization for me that: this is it.

What I have in my life, who I have in my life - this is it. There is no point at which sadness melts away, or some state of happiness is finally reached. Nope, this is all we have - the journey is what's memorable & we can't lie in wait for one event to happen so that we're suddenly satisfied with our lives.

What this means practically: no more waiting for a husband in order to start thinking about going for hajj. No more procrastinating what I truly love to do until a time that's more "convenient." No more wondering if one day I could be more beautiful. And no more expecting more from this life than it will actually give me.

Because as much as it pains us to say; this is it.

True contentedness only comes in 1 place. I think you know what place I'm talking about.

I ♥ Postcards

Screw school. I`m going to harbourfront. Bye.

Acapella

Oh man.

Today I am wearing running shoes & jeans, and I'm armed with sidewalk chalk. I think I am ready to challenge the world. More on this later.

Adam Rodriguez I would gladly marry if perchance he converted to Islam. No further explanation is required on this matter.

Blind Date

Kauthar sat on the ruddy beige couch in her brother's living room. Her palms damp, feeling as though her heart would detach from its vessels and fall to the ground every time she heard slight rustling at the door. She was jittery, waiting for a suitor - yes, the ongoing trial and error system of the marriage world was about to rear its ugly head once again.

Her patterned blue hijab smelled slightly of hair conditioner, and she nervously pulled at her skirt to make sure her severely untanned ankles didn't make an appearance. Also, she wanted to hide her larger-than-life feet.

Doorbell rings.

After removing his white golf shoes and uttering awkward niceties, Joseph handed her a gift bag tied up with a pink ribbon. Kauthar smiled demurely and offered adequate thanks while thinking to herself: really, Joseph, you're starting this relationship off with pink? Man up. (Later she forgave him, considering the gift was chocolate - a surefire way into her cookie-cut heart.)

They sat across from each other not quite wanting to make eye-contact; Kauthar's face had unfortunately turned red at the sound of the doorbell - a response her body automatically had to anything remotely embarrassing. She twirled some loose strings on her hijab between her fingers, waiting for him to speak, and trying to figure out how to snap the strings without Joseph noticing.

His hawk-eyes turned to watch her, read her, interrupt her train of thought. She shrunk in her seat, and was sure that he had somehow discovered her every weakness with that glance.

They sat for hours, chatting about books, mutual acquaintances, and other deeply meaningful matters. Kauthar slowly began allowing herself to notice that his jeans were a little too tight and why couldn't he have worn dress pants for the occasion? Joseph stood up to take a bathroom break.

He leaned over the sink towards the mirror to fix his shirt collar and sighed heavily. He briefly met his own eyes in his reflection, then silently covered his face with both palms, wanting to pretend she was someone else.

Kauthar poured tea.

Interviews suck

Yesterday I had my first interview of my post-post-graduate life (even though I haven't technically graduated yet - 4 weeks left inshaAllah!). I'm not quite sure if it was a success or not...I got lost and was 5 minutes late (as I always am for some reason).

My hands were sweating, my heart was racing; there were four people sitting across the table staring me down, trying to measure whether or not I'd be good for the job. The power dynamics are killer.

I'm pretty sure I answered at least one question with "because I'm just that awesome." I kid you not. They asked me how I keep from getting burnt out with all my community work, and that was my answer.

I think it's evident that interviews are not my forte. Some other dumb things I tend to say/do in interviews:

1. "That's a good question..."
2. "Hmm let me think..."
3. (insert some lame white-expression about the weather. Like "my what a lovely day we are having!")
4. I use the words "definitely," "yeah for sure," and "awesome" WAY too often.
5. My face turns bright red. Always, always, always.

Needless to say, interviews are definitely not what I'm looking forward to once I'm done school. Maybe I can take a few months off after school and just paint and write and sleep and be. Sigh.

What do you do in elevators when you're alone?

Here are the various things I do if I'm alone in an elevator:

1. Start humming or singing or reciting something.

2. Twirl around (if the elevator has a carpet or rug, this is more difficult).

3. If the elevator has a mirror, I look to see if I have any booger up my nose.

4. I practice my fake smiles.

5. I imagine what I would say if the elevator doors opened and someone really cool was standing there.

All in hopes that there is no video camera livestreaming my actions to some obscure security office. Hah.

I made a 1-slice peanut butter sandwich. Then I tripped and it fell gooey-side forward, flat on the carpet. Well, that's just the kind of week I've been having.

and why were you eating cake in the prayer room anyways?

I always tend to have some kind of crumbs or glitter stuck to my forehead. And it's possible that I could walk around with it there for hours without noticing. Thing is, I tend to make sujood in at least 2, maybe different 3 places every day without paying attention to what's on the carpet where I am. And thus things get stuck to my big white forehead.

It's annoying when you look in the mirror after a long day and see cake crumbs above, and sometimes in your eyebrows.

i like drawing trees

One of my classmates had a box of pastels and some good paper. And therefore, this is what my education has helped me accomplish today.