snow day? ...stress relief

you know, i go to lunch often in the cafeteria at STM, one of our catholic colleges (i believe we have more than one, no? i don't know...) at the u of s.. .and as i sit there, sipping my soup.. for their soup is so wonderful.... mmm.... soup....
anyway, there are always these little cards from some health group at school... (an affiliate of the USSU, i do not know...) you know, asking you how your menstrual cycle is going, whether you've got meningitis.. the usual... perhaps a costlysaurus or two in there....
this week: STRESS AND ANXIETY
do you feel stressed?
do you have troubles breathing? troubles focusing? studying?
etc....
let me just say, for the record.. i've only read stupider questions in my lifestyles class - do you feel suicidal? (hullo! do you really think i'm dumb enough to get myself landed in counselling???)
anyway, so the plan here is this:
you want stress relief? you feel like life is taking you under?
here are some real life solutions
1. do not, i repeat, do not go out and find yourself a significant other - this only leads to stress developing into hypertension. and trust me, you don't want hypertension at your age....
2. drink water - not coffee, kill the earl grey, and folks - alcohol... not the way to go (and i say this out of medical expertise... and well, concern.. heheh - i AM allowed that, right?)
3. focus on the end result - this is just a means to an end, remember? and you'll get through it!
4. a lot of other people are in the same boat - not exactly the same one (mine's ducttaped for example... so you wouldn't want to be in my boat, ya know?)
5. ah yes.... i've now lost my train of thought.... oh right: SLEEP (but only to be well rested...)

and with that in mind.... i should head it! it's like 1am. and i got a full day tomorrow... so much for taking my own advice (which i've totally plagiarized off a friend of mine who routinely has to give me stress-defibrillation....)
feel free to vent it all out here guys, just keep the language PG. :P

travel bug

so i watch way too much tv...
my question for the day is: what makes us want to travel? or not?

you know, it's funny... growing up the way that i have, i've always thought that everyone wants to travel - go places, not knowing what you're doing.... but as i've gotten older, and after having travelled, i've come to realize that this is not how the world works.

i met people in gib who hadn't crossed the border into spain, ever... never even hopped a ferry over to morroco.... (we're talking going from my house to like, warman - a full five minutes)... in SK it's the same deal... some people haven't left the province, or anything.. and i can understand perhaps the cost, or whatever.. but what gets me is the desire to leave... it's just not there!
that's fine, i mean, to each his own.. but i'm just trying to understand this phenomenon. for me, i think that travelling is about wanting to push back barriers... go beyond the status quo, and the thing is that there are many ways of doing that. perhaps that's what it is... for me, the only way i have left to push back at life is, well, this stupid blog, and making myself face things i've never faced before - as painful as that may be... and as horrible the consequences thereof.
i also think that it has to do with how much you want to question the world. (oh, right note: i don't travel for tourism.. i travel to learn the lifestyle... and seeing the odd historical museum or site doesn't hurt! :P )
so, after taking anthropology for example, i really have a different attitude about culture and how it's built and why we do things differently... in short, it's taught me how to question culture. my being a Baha'i has taught me to question everything in life period (the biggest principle in the Baha'i Faith is the independent investigation of truth - so finding things out for yourself - say hello to my reason for always having conversations that make everyone sleepy) and university - it's all about questions. teaches you how to ask them. (any kid who says that uni teaches the answers too is not thinking. you'll get some answers in science.. but they're always basic... my entire information transfer class consists of : it's been suggested that.... consider this... blah blah blah)
so i kinda see the travel bug as wanting to question life intellectually... that and damn, do i miss some of my friends!

hey! i do actually have some friends.. and the fact that they're not imaginary is proven from me having pictures! (NO i do not have an airbrushing program...)

so how do you see it? do you want to travel? and if so, why and when do you plan on going? and where to?
i have a few friends, who express a desire to travel, but are nervous bout going on their own (yes, by a few, i mean more than one)... and let me say, i've offered to take them along... even fly there and back with them so that they can have someone to go through customs with and navigate airports, whatever... and the answer's always: well, we'll see... my parents always said that.. and we'll see always meant: forget it.. but i'll be nice to you and let you dream.
well, to those friends, the offer's always open...
also, i think that some of you might get the impression that haji wants to up and leave SK all together. no, i said : travel.. that means go, and come back. i do love this place. and you know, the more i travel, the more i love it here... i have a lot of family overseas, and a few friends both out of province and overseas.... and they also say : we'll see.. but to coming here... think there's nothing to see in SK or in canada... it's their loss, quite frankly. i've seen sunrises and sunsets off the coasts of seven different countries... (coasts... like, next to a sea or ocean)... and i've seen a great many in lots of other places that are mainland.... nothing.. and let me repeat for clarity: nothing compares to the skies in SK. not all the green and blue of ireland (not even their leprechaun gold), or seeing the sun come up over the Mountain of God (see religious texts for locations... - it was spiritual, yes... magnificent, totally.... but it doesn't compare.. skies there and here are on two different levels).... in barcelona you can't ever see the sky.. and, well, shall i go on? i'd only be redundant if i did.
however, that being said, i still want to travel. it's like this: you know when you love something or someone... and you know it, but it's such a part of you that you'll joke and make fun of it... and you don't realize how much it means to you.... you leave... you'll know how much it meant to you. and you'll see all your faults and imperfections in all their glory.... i've never apologized to my parents so much as when i did when i was away from them (culture shock - if you're with friends, it won't be half so bad, i promise) . but it was necessary.
and you might be getting kinda scared or overwhelmed... reading me saying that travelling is this wonderful and horrible thing... and you might say, i'm not ready, i'm not this, i'm not that... let me ask you: are you ready for anything? really, are you? the exam this friday? the gig you play with mr. x at the fanciest club y in town z? or to put yourself on the line for that friend of yours? nah, forget it- you're not ready. you can't be. but sometimes, you just gotta sit back, and say, to hell with it - and as we used to say when we were kids, and life were simpler... ready or not, here i come!
and go.

writer's block... yet again!

whoever coined the term "writer's block" probably jinxed all future writers... (possibly with the exception of j.k. rowling.... although, she seems to be using her block as a means to kill off all her characters - don't be surpised if hp7 features harry on his death bed)
oh, right, to those of you who read a couple of posts that came up and disappeared again...
i was being inappropriate and insulting, and i definitely overstepped all the bounds of decency. to those involved (you know who you are), i sincerely apologize. and be assured, i have learnt my lesson....

to use a term coined by the person in question...
moving swiftly onwards....
writer's block.. yes... it's like freezing on air... cept for there's a lot more pressure on air... i should know, my friend sahar sat me down at a mic at the station... and i begged her not to put me on, sure enough, (i thought my ears were fooling me...) she turned on my mic and introduced me to whoever was listening (hopefully on that day, no one....) i literally froze.... funny, i can give talks in front of a couple hundred people, no problem... but this was an entirely different matter...
anyway, here i am... completely at a loss.... today was one of those blah days where you wake up knowing that you're not going to accomplish anything, so why the hell should you bother? yeah....

ah yes, let us discuss board games and how they set people on personal vendettas....
i hadn't see it since high school, but last night i had a very interesting experience. first of all, i nearly won at a board game (this never happens - i blame it on beginner's luck....) secondly, i got to witness people getting riled up over a little game! it was wonderful - let me say, i haven't laughed so much since... well... boy.. i can't even remember that far back!
on thing that struck me though, was this game my friend made up... (or maybe she didn't, but i'm pinning it on her) was "guess the emotion" - it was hilarious, she'd make faces (they were all the same... but don't tell her! she WAS trying to make them all different....)... but it was an interesting thing, because it reminded me of something another friend said to me last week "you can't just turn off your emotions, tahereh" she said... (not about me, if you know me, you'd know that even i realize that my emotions did not come equipped with an on/off button.... God, i blame that one on You!) and so when this other friend of mine was busy trying to switch from emotion to emotion, i was quite amused (also crying from laughing so hard....)
nevertheless, i wonder if it is possible to turn one's emotions on and off... it is possible to lie, even to oneself, about one's feelings... and you can "plan" (according to the self-help section, which is taking over the literature section of all bookstores... disgusting... and the minds of a few of my friends...) you can "plan" how you're going to get through the day.... *although, with that i disagree... but that's for reasons that most of you would curse me if i spoke of... yes, canada's biggest social taboo (other than discussing the fact that racism prevails) - God - no! i even typed it... phew.. don't kill me, guys!
but i do think it possible to turn emotions on and off... to love someone one day, and loathe them the next... we're creatures that are easily influenced by society, the people around us and our physical surroundings - not to mention our state of mind... i think this is how many of us sleep at night...
anyway, that's my little thought for today.. i've tired myself out. so i'm off to bed...

by the way... i realize that this has gotten way to stream of consciousness.... any ideas on how i can get back to structuring this all would be very much appreciated...

photos...

Me wearing someone's spectacles and in a wig... Also in my room... in case some of you were wondering what the INSIDE looks like... ehehe... actually, my wall looks quite empty.. but really there's a lot of stuff behind my head.. meh... oh, right, in case you were wondering why i'm wearing someone's specs and a wig... i plan on looking smart in uni.. i figure, if i look smart, i might be able to imagine myself into it! (yes, sahar, it IS possible!)

Saskatoon is hoarfrosty... this was taken from our kitchen window which opens onto the balcony.... i have some better photos elsewhere... i should go find them....

are we what we watch?

alright, so funny thought of the day: if we are what we eat, are we also what we watch?
sam and i were jokingly discussing this today... she was watching desperate housewives - a show that yes, i have tried to watch, but you know, with a title like that, i'm sorry, i really can't! so i said to sam: what you watch is a reflection of you!
we didn't discuss it much, which i attribute to how diverting desperate housewives is... that and, well, i mean, we're talking about sam... she can't really handle two things at once (now, can you sam? :P )
anyway! it's an interesting thought i think.... i mean, we definitely know that what you watch and listen to will affect you - but is it a reflection of yourself?
taking it one step further - could this be a reason why different shows wil appeal to you at different periods in your life?
i look at the different shows and characters that particularly appeal to me - and i do see that, to an extent. especially today. generally, these characters are the sarcastic, stubborn - single! - people in the shows... intelligent... yes, ironically only the first three are directly related to me... the intelligence part is why i talk to people like samira!
music wise - i think it's crucial to have different types of music set out to help you through different times. happy music for those happy days, break up music - to help you move on, content music - for when you're travelling through the roads from galway to the cliffs of moher... angry music - to make sure you don't punch out the wall and just sit and work through it instead...
that's right, music therapy is my true calling.... none of this pediatrician stuff!
in any case... my old high school english teacher maintained that the art that you surround you with is a reflection of yourself. his classroom was cluttered with the largest collection of stuff - for that is all you can really call it! - and it was true.. he was also full of stuff.... mostly very good stuff.. hehe...
think about it.. when you walk into someone's house, or get into their car.... that's the first thing you notice... what's on their walls? paintings? posters? are there books or magazines or journals on their coffee table? what about the bookshelf? poetry, essays, novels, religious works or textbooks? and where is that bookshelf located? what music is playing? do they discuss this all with you?
i did read a particularly good essay about music a while ago; however, in light of recent events, i will not be dissecting it for you. and it seems that i can't recall enough of it to summarize it for you, either... in any case... the author was discussing why certain music appeals to certain people.. and how it's pointless to debate the topic. however, i disagree. it's important to discuss these things because it is critical to who we are as people. the arts have this capacity to manipulate your basest emotions as well as the depths of your soul, and we need to be able to understand this better... then those youths who enjoy rock music will have a way to shut down their parents once and for all... plus, for those of us that don't drink - it's a non-mind altering way of killing the most brain cells!
in all seriousness, though...
art as a reflection of ourselves... true/false... i'd choose true
but then, you gotta ask yourself - should we count TV as an art form?

Poem of the Week

Pain

By: Rumi

Pain comes from seeing how arrogant you've been, and
pain brings you out of this

conceit. A child cannot be born until the mother has pain.
You are pregnant with real

trust. The words of the prophets and saints are midwives
that help, but first you must feel

pain. To be without pain is to use the first person wrongly.
"I" am this. "I" am that.

"I" am God, like al-Hallaj, who waited till that was true to
say it. "I" at the wrong

time brings a curse. "I" at the right time gives a blessing.
If a rooster crows early,

when it's still dark, he must have his head cut off. What is
this beheading? As one might

extract a scorpion's sting to save it, or a snake's venom to
keep it from being stoned,

headlessness comes from your cleansing connection to
a teacher. Hold to

a true sheikh. Strength will come. Your strength is his
gathering you closer. Soul

of the soul of the soul, moment to moment, hope to draw breath
from that one. No matter

how long you've been apart. That presence has no separation
in it. Do you want to understand

more about this friendship? Read the sura called Daybreak.

thoughts of the day...

you know, it's interesting - yesterday was friday the 13th... interestingly enough it turned out to be the most eventful friday the 13th of my life. to those who made it so - thanks. i'll definitely be unable to forget you now!

in any case, i've been sitting here reminiscing... cuz, well, that's what i'm best at, i guess, especially when i feel like being useful - but it's ok, don't worry! my mom will get home tonight and bring out the ol' persian mother's whip and i'll get a few red'uns on my back and be on m'way soon enough!
but while i'm reminiscing...
i was thinking about lauguage. i've been reading this book called Epistle to the Son of the Wolf - really good read, i recommend picking up a copy if you're interested in wolves at all.. and their children...
in any case, the author discusses how words are more powerful than weapons these days. it's quite an interesting concept... there is truth to it as well. we can think about it on the international scale - look at the revolutions of the past 100 years they all began and ended with words. (you can argue otherwise, i know, but consider politics - revolutions in most countries begin with certain charismatic individuals saying that they can do better than the current leader - when the revolution is over, that new leader will make promise after promise.... all words to subdue a people). think about our current elections here in canada. no longer do our leaders duel each other - but they debate and accuse and dance around truth... you'd think that if we really wanted our leaders to have to "keep their promises" we'd have created some kind of contract system.... but we hold them to their "word".
business these days is the same. when a consultant is hired, it's usually over a game of golf or a dinner meeting, and the two companies will "agree" without signing anything. and they're held accountable based on that verbal agreement.
the same when it comes down to individuals around us. why is it that when mr. x says something to mr. y about his mama, mr. y has to respond - fights might even break out! are you kidding?! that sounds kinda ridiculous, no? but it's the truth, and we all know that it's (well, a common joke) a matter of dignity.
and so i was thinking today, do we actually think about what we say to each other.. do we think about what that means and are we ready to be held accountable?
when i was in in gibraltar, one of my biggest problems was that my cousins and i had trouble understanding each other's language - we all speak english, but it was still difficult. and the reason is that words have different meanings, and a different level of importance based on where you come from. this makes sense; language and culture are inextricably intertwined. so when my friend sahar says : my, was the little guy chuffed - i had no clue what she was talking about.... chuffed? what, did he gain weight? no, he was pleased with himself.
now, let's think about this a little. if words are so important, then it must be equally important to choose them with care. now, sometimes, one might say something out of haste - i might yell at my father and tell him: who the heck do you think you are - as opposed to, dearest sir, please kindly inform me regarding your reasons for your statement... etc.
but then you have to wonder - if you make a mistake... be it a little one: get lost, as opposed to please excuse me, or a big one: you are a(n) [insert curse word here]... and you say the wrong thing.. or you say something without thinking... does that make it a lie?
or did you just make a blunder... and like most capitalists, believe that it will all right itself?
i'd take the blunder side, personally... but then... let's tweak this scenario a little.... what if it's something really stupid.. like telling a student that you'll help them.. always saying it. how long should you go on? knowing that you're never going to really do it... a month? two perhaps? three??
no sir... the second it goes from a blunder to a continued charade.. then it's a lie.

don't ya think?

THE POINT OF NO RETURN

Alrighty.. so I've decided that I should not say I'm going to write something... but rather write it right then...
So, here's to not bashing organized religion today... We'll do it some other time, don't worry.
But today, I've been thinking a lot about career choices. For us youth, this decision is often one that is quite stressful - and one that society stresses upon. (As opposed to, say, choosing a life partner.. which to me, is a far more important decision - but is portrayed as much easier to decide and accomplish, in general!). I daresay that this year is one of transition for many people that I know.
I think that with choosing a career, which often means going to university or some other source of post secondary education, we see it as "the long haul", a final decision... or "a point of no return". Yet, I can assure you that upper year students, and the staff (not faculty, there's a difference in attitude, trust me) at any such post secondary institution will treat it as trivial. Your teachers and profs will put pressure on you; however, when you go to see an academic advisor, not only do they not know (in general) what is going on, they also really couldn't care less.
Interestingly enough, most people will change careers repeatedly in their lives. As I was telling one friend today, you could get an undergrad in biology, and do your master's and up in something like human geography (true story). In our own Saskatoon Symphony, there are doctors that play in it! So really, life is not as hard set as we'd like to think it is.
Actually, one friend of mine is a real free spirit compared to me in this regard.... I asked him the other day why he's chosen that uni's not for him, and he says to me "maybe it is? who knows, for now I'm doing [insert something here]"... and he's happy doing it and doing quite well, far's I can tell. He's right, in many ways, because, being young, smart and quick on your feet means that yeah, if you decide next term to go become a rocket scientist you could probably do it if you wanted it enough!
Also, I've noticed that uni students, especially first years (of whom I was one, and perhaps with my level of naivete, I should still be counted as one), really have this arrogance about them. So when a person decides to take some time off school (which is quite common - we all need breaks from the Hell they call university), a first year's first thought is ha! You obviously can't handle it! Whereas a more thoughtful and wise thought would be hmm... That's a very wise decision, if that's what you need to do. For those of you who are not in university, perhaps I should explain. The academic world is somewhat like the wizarding world in Harry Potter - muggles really don't know what's going on in there... however, by the same token, wizards are usually idiots when it comes to normal stuff. Academia is very exclusive, quite arrogant (I can even SEE some of you sniggering at this, but don't lie to yourself: knowledge leads to arrogance; it must be tempered with humility, and humility is not something our society values let alone promote!), and extremely condescending. Granted, no matter what you do in life, because we're all so specialized, we like to use language that is inaccessible to others... But it's not right.
But I digress! First years.. yes, like I was saying: to you who still have your noses in the air about people who are not in university or uni students who take or have taken or will take time off - what goes around comes around, and you know what? I hope that you learn not to judge others one day.
And yes, that was me judging you. I haven't learnt THAT much in my short life. But I do try to exercise at least minimal amounts of tact.
In any case, the next time you find yourself or a friend making a decision, especially one that involves careers and/or finances, remember this: nothing is ever fixed in stone, (actually, even it if were, you could chisel or grind or sand it away!) and the only point of no return is when you die - and even then, it's all about progress!
So think happy thoughts!

Comic Relief

Saskatoon, SK
2:53AM
27 December 2005

OFFICE OF TAHEREH HAJI

received word STOP attack verbeke STOP paint green van kitchen white STOP perps hindered by one P.S. STOP may attack tomorrow STOP owner be warned perps brown and perceived dangerous STOP advise appointment with auto paint shop STOP

the above is a telegram that i have just received. i do not know who owns this "green van", but i assume that "verbeke" should be quite worried at this point. i hear that the color "kitchen white" is very tacky and out dated. (if it ever was in at all... *shudders*). i suggest that the owner come forward - i may be able to assist in the efforts to pursue this conniving fiends! ~T.H.

Organized Religion - Tell us why you hate it!

Alright, guys, so this evening i was speaking to a friend of mine (hehe, yes, some real human interaction, get that!), and we were discussing organized religion and its various faults. So now i ask you the question, what's wrong with organized religion? (forget any possible good stuff.. that's for later). leave your comments.... tomorrow, i'm making a top ten reasons why OR's are a load of BS.
anyway, i'd love to hear from you!
t.h.

A word about Rumi...

well, below i've posted a favorite poem of mine by Rumi. granted, some things must have been lost in the translation, but i expect that his work is just as elusive in Arabic.
I suggest that you read it several times (if you feel like reading it at all) and think about it for a bit... then, if you wouldn't mind, i'd like to know what you think of it.
ah, yes, and for those of you who don't know, Inshallah translates into "God willing". it's Arabic, yes, but you will hear many people in the Middle East say it (persians, for example) - islam is all about submission you see.
anyway, so yeah, i certainly don't know what it means, and am quite confused as to why i like it at all... but here it is.
enjoy.
~ t.h.

INSHALLAH

By: Rumi (as translated by Coleman Barks)

Some people work and become wealthy. Others do the same and
remain poor. Marriage

fills one with energy. Another it drains. Don't trust ways.
They change. A means

flails about like a donkey's tail. Always add the gratitude
clause, if God wills. Then

proceed. You may be leading a donkey, no, a goat, no, who can
tell? We sit in a dark pit

and think we're home. We pass around delicacies. Poisoned
bait. You think this

is preachy double-talk? Those who do not breath the God
willing phrase live in a

collective blindness. Rubbing their eyes in the dark,
the ask, "Who's there?"

more thoughts on bravery and fraud...

alright, so i apologize to the poor bloke who's conversations i'm raggin on tonight... i'm sure we can discuss my actions after you've read this and decided to tell me to go to hell..

i've had several people say to me that it takes a lot of courage/bravery/whatever to post thoughts like this on the net. my thoughts in this blog are the following: what in God's Names (it strikes me that we often say Name, singular, but really, the plural form is more true) ever gave you that idea?
i had this english teacher back in high school... a lot of the students hated him, but a few of us geeks... we loved him. and the reason was simple: he made us think. we'd read something and he'd really take us into it.. almost too far, i think sometimes; however, he'd do it. and he'd say things to us, and ask us questions, and make us argue back and forth... and he'd often get this grin on his face... in retrospect, i think those were probably at the points in our discussions when one of us would make an argument that he agrees with, but would never tell us so...
over the years, i've learnt to emulate him in many ways... present ideas and concepts and arguments that disgust me, but i'm going to show anyway...
for example, i might argue here, in favor of euthansia, or whatever... and i might even use anecdotes and little conversations to back up or explain my argument or my question or whatever.. but what makes you think it's my actual opinion?
one person i said this to, replied, quite correctly, that those who don't know me well will take me for what they see. she's right, to an extent. the thing is, however, that you can't, to use a cliche, judge a book by its cover. take me for what you see: a messed up kid, questioning society and its BS and happening to write about it while she's at it. oh, and add this to the melange, and it'll really screw you over... do you really think that this little investigation of mine ends with this blog?
now, i submit to you the following: we all have a responsibility in this world to investigate truth for ourselves (whether or not you agree this statement is not for you to question - it's a fact, get over it). so investigate it. the next time you think, oh, tahereh's doing great and putting her emotions on the line, look deeper, and see me for what i really am: a damned good fake.
a friend once described himself as an impenetrable tower. while i hate phallic symbolism, this one is too good to pass up! he may be impenetrable, but mine... it's so well guarded and fortified... i have to tell you about it before you notice it.
hehehehe, and that's my fun thought of the day!

tomorrow: new poem.. this time by none other than Rumi himself!

Bravery or Fraud?

That title's not supposed to mean anything to most of you by the way.. so don't worry if it's more of a question mark for you than a laugh, thinking: i'll get her for this.... (and if you are thinking that you'll get me.. well, read on, and here's my thought for you: good luck!!! ;) )

ANYWAY!

my question today has to do with music. i've been thinking bout this matter for a while. i mean, for a while, i really wanted to pursue music as a career... hehe, unfortunately for that plan, God wills other things for me. however, some around me have pursued this, and well, my own mother is an artist (a brilliant one at that, want to see her work? email me). but i've always wondered at what gives power to music and to art.
there's this one piece (well, it's more along the pop genre so i hate to call it "piece" or "work" hehe, but i have nothing else.. it's like 2AM, sorry, folks!) that i got introduced to this past summer. we won't mention its name, but those involved in this story will know who they are... the friend that gave me a copy of it, well, i mean, the song really hit home for both of us... what's funny is this: i got another friend to listen to it yesterday, and this friend was like: it's total crap. well, i consider him sorta an expert in music, so i'm thinking, that's interesting, crap. so it got me to thinking: what makes it different for me? why does this song strike me.. and let me say, it's pretty bad, the song starts playing and you might as well just find a little corner for me and say: see ya in an hour...
so it got me to thinking...
(if my old English teachers could see how often i use the elipsis i think they'd have a crise cardiac! and yes, they'd all have the same heart attack. hehe)
i don't know if i'm explaining this well. perhaps it's like this: take the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (great book, by the way, i recommend it to you all!) or the Harry Potter series... many of us will love those books, but others won't and for different reasons. i personally find HHGG to be hilarious, and a true work of art, but then, others will not.
that brings me to my next thought... why can a book make someone laugh? it's merely an inanimate object with ink all over it... possibly some color... and it may form images... i mean, c'mon.. there's no real reason why it should cause someone to laugh, right?
anyway, so i was talking to sam about this.. whom i take all the heavy, deep questions of life to (mostly cuz she'll put up with my stupid questions and cuz we think alike - speedy gonzalez is MY line, ST!) and we came to the conclusion (or rather, she told me it, and i was like: is this a good example, and she agreed so therefore...) that music triggers memories and/or emotions (i still want to know what emotions are, really.. cuz our more primitive emotions, such as "rage" are actually controled by the hypothalamus - if i remember my physiology correctly...)
actually, if i may.. this has been all over the map.. and it's also like 3AM now (no, i haven't been writing the entire time... msn's been distracting me....) so, well, basically: why does music affect us? and, here's a thought: how and why do we classify music as great or crap? (what makes mozart so great and spice girls crap? - i'm not saying that mozart's NOT great.... but why do we classify him so? and, if any of you were considering spice girls as actual music: quit reading this blog. it isn't your type.)

Just for Sahar - My thoughts on the Irish

I have been informed that my last post was rather "heavy" and in an effort to lighten the mood, and make my overseas friend, Sahar, comment, the following has come to my mind....

See, the fact of the matter is that I, in a feeble attempt to act all tough, told Sahar that I'd say a bunch of mean things about Irish lack of spine. However, I have found that I am quite incapable of saying anything remotely harsh, as I am, in fact, in the phase of my relationship with my old friend, that after almost 5 and a half years, I now need to impress her. (insert comment of choice here - and hear me roaring in laughter. That's right ROARING!)
Anyway, let me see... Ireland. How can I describe this fair country in Middle Earth itself?
Well, if I were a typical writer of English prose, I might as well compare "her" to a summer's day... but then, well, I'm neither Shakespeare, nor a man, let alone English...
So...

Well, I tried... and I've got nothing. What I do know is a series of unrelated cool things about Ireland, and the Irish themselves, which might be quite interesting and useful tidbits of information...

1. drunk driving commercial
In Saskatchewan: show a car accident. perhaps if it's really goary, an ambulance
In Ireland: show an kid getting slaughtered by a drunk.
Do either situations work? obviously not.

2. Landscape
In Ireland: rolling green hills. the white stuff? sheep.
In SK: (In the central areas!) flat. choose between colors of either yellow or white. the white stuff? ACTUAL snow! (we don't need sheep to fake it for the tourists)

3. Religion
In Ireland: comedy's easiest scapegoat, and the country's joke.
In Canada: what we'd rather not discuss. So how bout hockey?

4. Sport
Ireland: well, it strikes me that you're quite British... so... cricketS anyone?
Canada: hell, we're so diverse everyone has their own sport and it's OK to do that! (actuall though, tis Lacrosse - we don't like eating what we play with, hehe)

and of course, last but not least:

5. Natural Resource
In Ireland: leprechaun (read: celtic) gold
In SK: actual mining and forestry resources.

So, please, take this with a grain of salt. This list is, in fact, a series of blatant exaggerations aimed at one thing only: getting Sahar to actually comment on a blog where SHE KNOWS the writer. Actually, while I was staying at her place, I started a bit of a cookbook/handbook... it's currently still in the works.

I also hope that that lightened the mood somewhat.

Baking Cookies...

Alright, well, I've been told that I don't have enough photos up... I've also been told that this is a particularly good photo of me. Well, this is what you get for now. I also plan on putting up a photo of my bedroom when I've finished spring cleaning. Tomorrow.

Anyway, so Samira says that our society is about change, and yet when someone does change, everyone goes berserk. I've found this to be true. (By the way, Sam, where can I find this wise friend of yours? I'd like to meet him/her). I've had some interesting conversations this past weekend about societal change. Some of my friends are hopefuls, while I remain ever the cynic.
I do sincerely believe that the world will have to change someday, because it needs to. However, I need proof. As usual.
Our world is extremely two faced. We have expectations of others yet we, ourselves, are not willing to fulfill that same expectation. Take as an example my post about my travels. A close friend of mine said that she liked it because it was "honest". That comment struck me as interesting, because we like others to be sincere, honest - truthful, even! Yet when was the last time that you felt comfortable being "honest" with someone? Perhaps it was with a good friend (I'm not trying to say that I'm better because my post was supposedly honest. In fact, I remind you that whether or not it's truly honest is for me to judge and you to perceive), but chances are that it was not with, perhaps, a prof at university. Our society is not built to reward honesty with its desert.
A line from Hamlet has always stuck with me. He says to Polonius, who has just stated that he'll treat the players as they deserve: "God's bodykins, man, much better! Use every man after his desert, and who should scape whipping? Use them after your own honor and dignity. The less they deserve, the more merit in your bounty. Take them in." (II, ii)
Anyway, I digress with one of my favorite lines... Oh, yes, a formal apology to Sahar: I'd use a Macbeth quotation, except for I do know in whose presence I write, and my blood freezes at the very thought!
I had was talking to another friend, just this past weekend. She's studying nursing, and she says to me that nursing students are learning to speak their mind in the workplace. So, when they see a nurse who's been on the job for 20 years and continues to use an outdated method, they should suggest the new method. I looked at her and smiled. Don't get me wrong, I hold her in the highest regard, yet I wonder at this system. Outwardly it may seem openminded and encouraging new ideas, but what do we see with every young up and comer who goes to his/her boss and says "Sir/Madam, this method is outdated" - listen, when you tell someone that you don't like their method, you're telling them off. No matter how you put it, chances are that they will take it personally. The first few times they'll let you have your fun, but after that... good luck!
No, I've had personal experience with this... Even provided my supervisor with solid proof, and while he accepted that there was an issue, he laughed off my suggestion. We're all proud of what we've accomplished, and no wet-behind-the-ears kid is going to make us look bad, right?
We're looking at a society that does not have for its primary vision the advancement of human civilization. It's merely attempting to survive. And if you're on your death bed, survival means saving as much energy as you can so that you can keep your cellular processes running. It takes a lot more energy than you think to keep your eyes blinking, your heart pumping (especially when you're sessile), and your nerves feeling.
Shoghi Effendi, who was a man of many professions, but whom I see somewhat as a visionary stated that:
"Never indeed have there been such widespread and basic upheavals, whether in the social, economic or political spheres of human activity as those now going on in different parts of the world. Never have there been so many and varied sources of danger as those that now threaten the structure of society. The following words... are indeed significant as we pause to reflect upon the present state of a strangely disordered world: "How long will humanity persist in its waywardness? How long will injustice continue? How long is chaos and confusion to reign amongst men? How long will discord agitate the face of society? The winds of despair are, alas, blowing from every direction, and the strife that divides and afflicts the human race is daily increasing. The signs of impending convulsions and chaos can now be discerned, inasmuch as the prevailing order appears to be lamentably defective." (italics added by author - T.H.)

Another thought: I've been asked several times lately who I plan on voting for. Firstly, as a Baha'i, I believe that a secret ballot is just that, secret. So, I'll treat the question lightly when I'm asked, but you'll never truly know who I support. But this I will tell you now: I haven't a clue who to vote for.
This happens to me each time an election of some sort comes about. Canditates, analysts, and the news will discuss "the issues" that whatever group they seek control of face.... But it strikes me that "the issues" don't really ever get mentioned. We discuss what each candidate will do about them, but never literally list them! Sp tell me, is abortion an issue? Taxes? Foreign policy? Or University tuition? It's like the issues have been divied up between the candidates each time. They have a dinner party where they discuss the benefits of confusing the populace by calling an election at the busiest time of the year (did it ever occur to you that if they're really all about the money, then technically, it'd be in their best interests to work together... funny thought, eh?), and they decide who will have to use which "issue" (who chooses these things? I personally don't think that abortion is a matter that I should choose a prime minister over... maybe his sex life should worry me more... and now THAT was low!) as their platform. When a platform is selected, the idea is that they don't discuss anything else. So I notice that a lot of our prospectives, when a question is asked that they can't answer (because they agreed with the others not to deal with it - that or their speechwriters didn't forsee that exact question...), they say "well, that's not a real issue that Canadians care about". Again, did anyone ask the normal, everyday Canadian? (Polls are PROVEN to be inefficient and inaccurate tools of census - take Anthropology 111).
Anyway, that's it for me today. Take care!

Poem of the Week

Deeds Not Words
by: Anonymous

A man of words and not of deeds
Is like a garden full of weeds;

And when the weeds begin to grow
It's like a garden full of snow;

And when the snow begins to fall,
It is like birds upon a wall;

And when the birds begin to fly,
It's like a shipwreck in the sky;

And when the sky begins to roar,
It's like a lion at the door;

And when the door begins to crack,
It's like a stick across your back;

And when your back begins to smart,
It's like a penknife in your heart;

And when your heart begins to bleed,
Oh then you're dead and dead indeed!

Comment Deletion

Just a quick note:
I just realized that somehow a comment was deleted. I swear that I do not know how this happened, but I'm working on retreiving it and reposting it myself - to maintain a spirit of openness.. if there's one thing I dislike, it's censorship!
To this person: I am extremely sorry. There's not much more I can really say.

My Summer Travels

So, I do believe that what I haven't done to date is give everyone a full explanation of my travels, or told the story. Perhaps I'm just nostalgic at this point in my sad excuse for a life. But then, perhaps this is my way of getting some closure. I tell this story without expectation of anything in return; I just want you to know what happened, and maybe, just maybe this might explain a bit of who I've become.
Here goes nothing.

I left for the wrong reason. Have you ever looked back on your life and said: damn, I shouldn't have done that? I say that to myself nearly every second. I make a hell of a lot of mistakes, and this, this was one of those big ones. My reason for leaving: I was one unhappy little first year. I also was clueless as to what I was doing with my life, and my marks were taking nosedives. My school friends will sigh here and say, "ugh, Haji, your marks?! you probably just did not think them good enough." Actually, no, that is not the case. Honors degrees require 70% and up. And if my marks continued to drop as they were doing, I wouldn't even be able to get that much.
So I managed to convince my parents that instead of having me mope around the house for a month (pilgrimage has set dates - no one was going to hire me for the summer knowing that I'd be gone right away - How do I know this? I checked!) I should go and live with my aunt and her family in Gibraltar, and do a Period of Service for the Baha'i Community there.
Come April 29th, I was gone.

Gibraltar

I was in Gibraltar from May 4 - June 3. Thirty days. Most of them: from Hell. Gibraltar, if you don't already know, is the southernmost geographic point of mainland Spain. It's the point on a map that nearly touches Morocco. Most of you will know about it because of the strategic importance of the Strait of Gibraltar. Well, that's where I was.
Now, I do not wish to hurt my aunt and her family by writing this. Let me explain here that the primary reason for my unhappiness in this place was because of culture shock. The secondary reason: homesickness.
Now, let me explain the situation there. My aunt and uncle really should have said no to my coming. I guess, like all family, they're excited initially, but don't realize what they're really doing. Also, a series of unfortunate coincidences all climaxed during that month. More pressure for all of us.
Their apartment is perhaps the size of my upstairs... So the living room, dining room, kitchen and area, perhaps plus my parent's room. Family of five.
I arrived, and now we're six, and they put me up in my cousins room. My cousin, Carmel, of course, knowing me probably better than I know myself, was disgusted at this fact. I, too, have also learnt to become disgusted with myself.
So it's all a learning experience, right?
Anyway, I did do many Baha'i activities, but you know, when you don't have much else to do, it seems like you're doing nothing. I spent a lot of time walking to town and around town... I could go a whole day and not say a word to anyone other than my family. And I spent a hell of a lot of time on the phone with my parents and brother.
I think the biggest difference between here and Gibraltar, like Carmel told me when I arrived and would remind me incessantly, is that Gibraltarians (yes, they're not British... calling them that is like calling Canadians, Americans) are a very laid back people. Their motto is "por la manana" (pronounced maniana, almost... I need some Spanish letters here! eheh) "for the morning". Me, crazy university student that I am, am the exact opposite.
Fine, but relaxing, that's easy enough right?
Sure, but how's this? I'm in a small place, and the kids have been taught, rightly so, that this family is not about secrets. So, when I logged on to PAWS to find if my marks had been posted (unfortunately they had), they were announced throughout the house without hesitation. Net result: privacy to a Canadian and privacy to a Gibraltarian mean two really, really different things.
The above are merely a few reasons, other things were going on...
Now, my homesickness.
I have never felt more alone in my life. In a way, it was good; I was able to deal with the rest of my travels better, but at the same time, I look back... I cringe. I tried to be happy, I really did, after all, this is what I had wanted for so long... I'd even written in grade 10 in Wilderman's class about this... But this was not what I had expected. I remember, I had photos of my siblings in my prayer book, photos which I'd whip out to show any poor fool that happened to ask me about my family. My journal, which I was not able to write in due to privacy problems, contained three photos: one, of Teegan and I at grad, the second of a certain December formal photo, and the third, which unfortunately turned out quite horribly due to poor film, of the discussion group - most of my Saskatoon friends were in it. I also had with me three airplane letters from three very different friends of mine. I'd reread them a million times by the time I'd arrived in Gib. These little pieces of home...
I also had a friend from home tirelessly emailing me to keep me going. She'd send me these massive long emails... Detailing every last thing that was going on back home, and then, when she'd run out of things to tell me or ask me, she'd make a list of questions, most of them random... Just to get me to write back and have something to look forward to. To this friend, I am eternally grateful.
My grampa had, in his worry for me, given me his mobile phone. I think I blew most of my money on text messages... hehe, yes, and to those two girls I was messaging: I am proud to have inserted EVERY LAST WORD! (what can I say, I really don't know how to use the little buggers...)
There was something else, too, which perhaps hit home even more than the photos or the letters... A friend of mine had prepared a few CD's for me... Unfortunately, this person knows me better than they could have ever imagined. My cousins hated the music... So the odd time when I had the house to myself, I'd play the CDs quietly... There was one song in particular, that actually caused me to be unable to listen to them again until I'd left. Trad music from a country I absolutely adore: Ireland. This woman was singing about how she'd left Dublin (oh, lovely Dublin...) to come to America and escape the war, only to find that America was also in war, and that she shouldn't have left in the first place. I laughed, and turned off the CD player. A litte too true to my situation...
However, this all being said, I did fall in love with Gibraltar. And then I was promptly yanked back to reality by events that were, as usual, my fault. Such is my life. I do things with the best of intentions, and they always, always backfire.

Israel

My family and I met up in Barcelona, and went to Israel for pigrimage: 6 - 15 June, I believe. Pilgrimage was amazing. My brother and I met a lot of new people, and got to hang out with some old Saskatoon friends on their turf. I cannot say much else. We were staying in Haifa, and we would travel out to Akka. There are Baha'i Holy Places as well as two Shrines in these twin cities. A lot of prophecies have been and are being fulfilled in Israel...
Again, however, and now with Anis, all we both could think about was how much so and so would like it if they were here. We called some friends from there as well. Anis had kids taken out of class... I had parents wake people up... It was a good time. Hehe, even on our pilgrimage we were planning our days, adding time zone differences again and again, just to make one or two phone calls...
The culture, obviously, was quite different. But I don't think that it was the culture that surprised me the most. I think it was the fact that for once, I was the normal person in the crowd. The only thing that would give me away was the fact that the citizens of Haifa and Akka know a pilgrim from a mile away... I'd tell you why, but you'd call me an arrogant [insert curse word here]. Anyway, it was great. Anis and I lived on hummus and pita bread (by choice!)... We'd eat arab food... have pastries... fresh fruit..stuff that my parents would talk about, and could maybe get once a year or two if one of us went to Toronto or Montreal... But nothing really like this... Shawarma galore! Oh God, the Shawarma!
I have a TON of photos and stories about Israel... Just ask.

Spain

We returned, with great difficulty (ask for the story in person), to Spain. It's funny, we'd use Barcelona as a travel stop... I think I spent a total of 7 or 8 days there... But I never really got to sight see or anything... I'd be too busy repacking bags (funny story that one...). Anyway, my maternal side of the family all lives in Spain, and we managed to all find two weeks (17 - 30 June) that we could escape to Southern Spain, to this province called Andalucia, which surrounds Gibraltar, if I'm not mistaken.
Anis, by this time, was dying of homesickness and asking for a ticket home (hehe, what I'd done, no, begged for, a month earlier). It was lovely. We rented this place in a paradise town that I'm sure I'll never go back to.
God, the stories...
The highlight of the trip for me was really a visit from an old, old friend of mine. June 22-26 were four heavenly days there... I spent most of the rest cooped up in my room busy... with what? Well, that's another story... In any case, it's no longer important. Anyway, well, so my friend came to visit. She's kinda one of those amazing people I hope I can aspire to, and I'm sure you guys would all rather I be if you could but meet her. She knew, somehow, how to handle me, which is saying something, as well as how to speak and act around every last person in my family. By the end of the four days, she'd convinced my parents to allow me to come stay with her.
I still don't know how she did it.
The rest of my trip there was really a blur... I locked myself upstairs... And we did go here or there, or to the beach... I spent a day in Granada my first weekend there with my other aunt.. babysitting my little cousin... Oh, what a cutie! The little guy is just two months younger than Farah. I have never been met with such kindness and hospitality while with a child as I was there. And I would know.
My cousins all liked Anis. Which was good, because I needed time to deal with myself. The little guy, Olinga, and my sister were really good friends. Farah still recognizes him. They'd play in this little pool my aunt had purchased in Israel for my sister. And they'd share what little toys they had... And hug each other... Oh they were so cute!

Ireland: My unexpected trip

So, now, this is the part of my story that gets even more creepy. In grade 10 English class with Mr. Wilderman, there was an assignment which I remember as the postcard project. Choose a place or places to travel to, "go there" for x amount of time and write a friend back - but make the postcards to. Parts of this postcard project have become a reality. And Ireland was the clincher.
I was there 4 - 20 July. Spent 10 days of it as housemates with Sahar, whom most of you know as "Tahereh's friend from Ireland". (She's the one that visited earlier... yes, I realize I'm not using names enough - I don't want to bore you...). Her family was away, and they had actually wanted, yes wanted, me to come and keep her company. That, I'm sure I did; how good my company was, I do not know. However, I can easily say that this was the best part of my trip. I'd gotten over the culture shock; Sahar is a person who does understand me, probably more than she knows; and Irish culture is a lot more similar to ours, probably because, well, a lot of Canadians are of Irish decent.
I spent most of my time either at home or at NUIG (university, where Sahar studies and works). Again, I was busy with my mystery project. It was good. Relaxing... The weather was more what I was used to. The air is also a lot cleaner than Spain and most certainly Israel. And let me say, to those of you who are wondering: Ireland is everything they tell us it is!
I think one of the biggest learning experiences for me was that I was finally able to initiate conversation with total strangers. (I had done this on some airplane rides, but minimally and with a lot of caution). But the Irish seem to be quite sociable and, let me add, extremely amiable! Ah, yes, I should add, Sahar lives in Galway, so I was there. We were in Dublin for a night - two of Sahar's Baha'i friends took their Saturday and gave us a lovely walking tour of the country's capital. I've never walked so much in my life! (well, maybe on pilgrimage...)
Anyway, it was great. And Sahar's family is simply brilliant, as well. Her dad scares me in an amusing sort of way... Him and my dad are exact replicas, and unfortunately for Sahar and I, he knows it. The funniest thing ever was when he caught me one morning coming upstairs, and I, of course, say "hey, Mr. Rahmani," etc... He looks at me, smiling and says "tell me, Tahereh, do you get along with your father?" - let me say, for the record, that I have never walked a tightrope, but I think talking about family stuff, knowing full well the implications, with Sahar's dad, no less... well, I think I have a pretty good idea of what it's like! Her mom, well, a woman that selfless I've never met before.
Sahar's siblings are also brilliant. I must say that I do miss them...
The last weekend that I was there, they took me to the Cliffs of Moher and the Burren. It was absolutely terrific! The car ride (God... the scenery is stunning!), and everything. I think the Cliffs were the most amusing... I couldn't help but remember the postcard project and a certain young friend of mine dreaming of hangliding into the sunset...
Unfortunately, Sahar kept me from jumping.
Ah, yes, and for the record: I did go to more than one pub.... heheh..

And that was that. I came home to Saskatoon on 21 July... Depressed, alone and still as unhappy as when I'd left. I think I spent a Hell of a lot of money on phone calls on the 20th when I arrieved back in Barcelona. hehe, my poor parents... When I got back, I went through a lot of reverse culture shock. To my friends here, for that, I do sincerely apologize. Much was going on in my life... much is still happening, and God knows where I'll be in a year's time. Anyway, perhaps this little story will help you to understand me a bit better, perhaps it won't, and perhaps, it's too late and redemption is impossible.
In any case, one of the biggest challenges for me this past summer and term has been that people seem unable to get along with me. That much became quite clear to me when I was with family while travelling. So, to those of you who are angry at me, who will be or have been, don't worry, you're not alone, (I'm one of them, too). You should start a club, crisis line and everything...
Anyway, with that, I shall leave you for the time being. There's a fight in my head right now that I should probably go resolve.
Good night, and take care.

Writer's Note

I feel it necessary at periodic intervals in my writing endeavors to explain the purpose animating my work. It may seem difficult for you to understand this, but I really simply enjoy hearing your thoughts and opinions – however challenging they may be to my own! The fact of the matter is that I like to put my thoughts down on paper – or into digital code as it were…

When I first began writing it was for myself; I would dream up some messed up story, and would develop it for weeks, maybe months… and my interest would slowly die, or I would run out of ideas – sometimes actually my characters would get the better of me and become somewhat real, or rather, that character would take on the personality of someone I knew, and I’d know to stop there. I left writing for a few years after that. I pursued other endeavors that interested me, and then suddenly, I was put into a more public spotlight. I was quite young at the time, yet perhaps less naïve… But I learnt there to love the challenge of writing for someone else. You’ve all probably heard the clichéd statement, “what is art without an audience”… It’s sort of like that.

Not to digress! Yeats once said “it’s not a writer’s business to hold opinions”. He’s right. It’s our job to present them. And that is what I feel I can do here. Perhaps I am wrong, but then, Frank Wright said “I’m all in favor of keeping dangerous weapons out of the hands of fools. Let’s start with typewriters.” So, maybe I shouldn’t be doing this. I might be out of my mind. I might present an idea that you feel you don’t care much for, or you may find that my thoughts have the amazing capacity of putting medical patients to sleep in under 10 seconds – whatever you may feel toward my work, the irony is that it’s your choice whether you want to read it or not.

Now, I have also noted some complaints that have been queried on another blog against my own (Note: the entry in question no longer exists). Perhaps the plaintiffs have different opinions of what I should and should not be publishing. Freedom of choice is a critical matter, and lack of censorship an immediate second. Several of the issues noted I will address here.

The stated reason for the grievances was that I have censored my comments. Let it be noted here that I do nothing of the sort. I suggest that you use the refresh button on your Internet browser to locate the missing comment(s). I will be happy to personally assist you in that matter if you so please.

It has also been noted that two of my blog entries are perhaps not written according to the taste and fancy of a few of my readers. I will not apologize for that. If the problem is about the topic(s) that I have chosen, I can only say that I write about what attracts my attention the most. In any writer’s, or artist’s life, it is quite often found that a single thing might draw them in for a period of time. I do realize that my blog has to date been quite themed. This is not a planned phenomenon. Nevertheless, I am not writing to please you, but rather merely to write.

The way that I present my ideas may be somewhat unorthodox and, at times, raw to the extreme. Again, I do not apologize. I am fully capable of adjusting my work to whatever level I please, and for the time being, I choose to set my standard at the point which you currently see in this blog. However, it has not escaped my attention that this style is vulnerable to attack. That, too, is fine. You will note that, if my work here is read carefully, the words of Michael MacManus will ring true: “But my work is undistinguished and my royalties are lean because I never am obscure and not at all obscene.”

Dear friends, I leave you to ponder (or not) on the above points.

Warm regards,

Yours, etc.