Power Out

Do you know that song, Power Out, by The Arcade Fire? That was my evening yesterday, in Ottawa.
First, let me set the stage: the day before, I had arrived at my parents' place after work and it was alive. The Angels, all five of them, ran to the door to greet me. The oldest California Angela let me in before I had finished rummaging for my keys. Her baby brother blocked me by trying to run out to hug me. It was lovely.
All evening, the place was buzzing. Kids playing/fighting/singing/screaming/exchanging toys/yanking toys out of each other's hands, and their moms (and my mom and dad) preparing for a little trip they were going to take to Toronto. So, Tuesday, a house with 5 children 6 and under, and 5 adults. Wednesday, me.
My plan, early on in the day, involved a trip to the gym after work, but as it got closer to quitting time, the heat had taken its toll on me. I felt like I was melting, and had no interest in getting any hotter. So I went home instead. At the grocery store in the plaza next to my parent's house, I bought two oranges and went in search of their spelt bread (the store has just changed hands, which means some of our "alternative" products are usually eliminated or modified... I have to say, the new company is not as interested in providing the allergy free stuff as the old one was) I was walking up the last aisle when the power cut. Darkness. Kinda refreshing, actually.
They were still able to check me through at the cash, but when I got home, I realized it wasn't just the plaza, it was the whole neighbourhood.
I could read, right? well, I could, but I didn't feel like it. I wanted radio. I wanted noise. The problem was that my mp3 player's battery was almost dead, and all the other radios in the house worked off electricity. No good. I used my laptop until the battery died (25 minutes, no internet, obviously). I switched to my dad's laptop. 25 more minutes. I dug up the flashlight ad emergency candles, in case. I sat there feeling pathetic that I didn't know what to do without outside stimulus. But I didn't.
In Montreal, I would have gone for a bike ride. In Ottawa, I have no bike. I eventually went back to the plaza to find their power returned before it did at the house.
I am resolved to find some way to not need technology so much. But right now, what I have is proof of dependency.
I'm writing this from Montreal, on my now-charged laptop, with another window open on another blog, a third on facebook, and a fourth on my email. Must stop?

I want my hour back!

This weekend, we turned the clocks forward to daylight savings time, and while we won't have to deal with the sun setting until nearly 7 p.m., the downside is that I suddenly feel so behind.
Daylight savings time (DST) used to happen on the first Sunday in April, and all through university, this hour-thievery had such an enormous effect because it was always, always, always right around exam time. I felt like the time people were out to make sure I couldn't have just 60 more minutes to figure out a proof, to solve a program that refused to compile, or even to just sleep so that the next day's studying would make some sort of sense...
Two years ago, the U.S. decided to move DST three weeks earlier, and being the good Canadian neighbours we are, we of course followed right along. It was necessary, 6 weeks of time difference (three in the fall when setting clocks back, three in the spring when setting clocks forward) between places like New York and Toronto would have wreaked havoc on the business world, but you wonder why Uncle Sam really thought it was such a good idea to do it anyway...
The theory was that it would save energy, that 3 weeks of extended day light would mean people would turn their lights on later, blah blah blah, yadda yadda, insert more detail...
There is NO way to ever measure whether this worked. What I do know is that at work, we were thrown into a frenzy working on the DST project, making sure all IT infrastructure, systems, and applications were DST ready... It was many hours of overtime for many people. Some did so much OT they bought flat screen TVs with the money after. Others took vacations. (Me, I just did the boring thing and put it in the bank). It was like a mini version of the Y2K freak-out 7 years earlier... We love to have to worry about whether something wrong with the machines can possibly cause the whole world to end.
In hindsight, I look back fondly at the DST project as the first really technical, large scale project I worked on. But I still got up this morning and realized that instead of the 9:50 blinking on my clock, the time was 10:50. And I still feel groggy while I write this. And I still feel, well, honestly? A little jipped.

Noha 1, Cell Phone 0!

And she might have lost to the throat and sinuses, but Noha bravely rises from defeat to overcome the cell phone's refusal to talk to the computer... Below, Little Angela's Marvelous Works:

Throat and Sinuses 1, Noha 0

So it turns out that that annoying sore throat was really just building up the energy to launch a full-blown offensive. I am on my second cup of "gollum juice" today, and third in the last 24 hours. It's slowly doing it's work...
I also tried to upload my little angela's piece of art, but my computer and cell phone (on which the picture currently resides) seem to have gotten into a fight and aren't talking to each other... The picture will come soon, I promise. I would hate to rob you all of her genius abstract work. (I say abstract because none of us would have been able to figure out that the circles were a boat, but they are, they are!)

Random Thoughts of Random-ness

• My throat is out to get me. Two weeks ago, there was a temperature involved, and since then, even though every other aspect of me seems to have recovered, the throat is not doing the same thing. I am reminded of the stuff the actor on Lord Of The Rings used to drink for the days they would shoot 14 hours in the rain and horrible weather. It was a combination of honey, lemon juice and ginger. He called it "Gollum Juice", since he'd make Gollum's voice all day so his throat was extra sore... I think that's probably going to be the only solution for my throat too...
• It rained yesterday. Rain. In Montreal. In early February.... Not the first time it happens or anything, but it's been unseasonably warm for 3 days. After being unseasonably cold for about two weeks. I think the earth is trying desperately to tell us something. It has a flu. It's bouncing around between hot and cold, clammy and feverish, desperately needing some lozenges and lots of chicken soup. We can't ignore it forever. We won't be able to, not in the face of rising temperatures and hurricanes and floods.
• The Habs are NOT playing up to their loyal followers' dreams these days. I was hoping for better, but not necessarily expecting it. The truth is that I'll cheer for them no matter what.
• Remember this? Well, that was a year ago last Monday. That's right, we've now officially been married more than 1 year. It's cool to be past the first milestone, cool to look at each other and look back over a year of shared and built memories as a unit, and think about all we've experienced and how much we've changed and grown. We celebrated by sleeping in, watching an awesome movie that really ought to win the Oscar, eating insane amounts of sushi, and going skating. We're both horrible skaters. It's been years since either of us has been on an ice surface (Not including the typical Montreal or Ottawa sidewalk). But it was SO MUCH FUN! My sisters and I used to skate at the outdoor rink in our neighbourhood park in Ottawa all the time when we were little. Someday, I hope to teach M and I's kids how to as well...
• I'm trying to get back to reading a book the whole way through without getting so horribly distracted. A few months ago, I developed the horrible habit of starting a book, getting 10 pages in, picking up a second one, getting 20 pages in, picking up a third one, going back to the first one... you get it. I seem to have developed ADD for anything longer than a magazine article, or Jen recommends a new book, and I'm so excited by her glowing review that I go out and buy it and start it when I'm barely two chapters into her last recommendation. The problem is she reads much faster than I do, and I don't have the patience to wait to pick up the latest little brilliant nugget she throws my way... So right now, I'm excercising discipline. I've resolved to reading March the whole way through before I go back to the two other books I've started and abandoned, as well as another three left un-started, taunting me from my bookshelf. I'm still early on in it, but not embarrassingly so anymore, and I think I'll be able to pull it off.
• I need to speak more French. I am now confident enough, and good enough, at understanding the great majority of what is said around me in French, but the next step is one I have to push myself towards, and that's using it myself when I speak. It's a choice. Most of those around me will understand me just fine if I choose to speak English, and they're perfectly happy to indulge me and let me continue on in my more fluent language. I probably sound a lot better in English, considering I'm not prone to silly grammatical errors, and can express myself a lot more fluidly. Of course, I'll never reach that point in French unless I start. And stumble. And say stupid things and get laughed at. Not just in French class. Not just for 4 hours a week. Out in the world. Ditto for Arabic. I have to push myself if I expect to get better.

Sniffling and Yucky

I can't think of very much more un-fun than going to the dentist when you can't breathe through your nose... Wish me luck!

Momentous

I want to be there
for something enormous
for a moment
that stretches into an hour
a day that stretches into a year into
a new reality

that stretches into
a way of thinking
of being caring touching speaking
in kindness
in love
of speaking good
instead of insinuations

I want to be there for truth flowing
for justice for all going
from theory to practice
for the end
of war
the end of all the givens
to be there
not only as witness
but as actor
for the moment
that starts the motion
that starts the march
to good

All Hail the Presse Cafe

There's been an empty store front at the end of our street for months now, and M and I have been watching closely to see who'll take it.
Our dream: an independent bookstore with a coffee shop built in.
What happened? First, the store front turned out to be not one, but two store fronts.
Recently, a sushi place opened in one of them. This is very, very good news, but it's not a coffee shop.
More recently, (two weeks ago to be exact), a sign went up in the other window for a Presse Cafe opening soon.
Victory!

Let's Play 5 Questions!

So, the latest Blog "meme" comes via XUP, and is called 5 questions. She did such a great job explaining how it works on her blog, so I'm just going to go ahead and steal the instructions:

It’s kind of a fun interview exercise because fellow bloggers can email you asking to join in and then you have to email them back 5 interview questions - things you’d like to know specifically about them. Then they answer the questions on their blog and invite other bloggers to join in which means they have to come up with 5 questions for those bloggers. Get it? (Complete instructions are at the end of this post).

On with the show. Here are the questions XUP posed to me, as well as my answers (as usual, extremely run-on-sentency).

1. As a Muslim and a woman in Canada, do you face any additional challenges in the workplace and/or socially?
   I really think that if you want to look at them as "challenges", you could, but that in essence, we live is such a pluralistic society that it's hard to say there's a "standard" any more, so I probably face as many challenges as anyone else, except mine can be categorized under one lump sum of "this is because she's Muslim"... For example, I don't drink, nor do I attend social events where alcohol will be served. What this means is that if I'm going out to dinner with some friends, no one at the table can order a drink... At work, I'll skip the group lunches if I know that some of my colleagues are going to be drinking, but we end up doing a lot of "in office potlucks" instead, and the formal lunches are only 1 or 2 times a year. A few of my good friends from high school and university have gotten married recently, and for their weddings, I attended the ceremonies, but not the receptions, because of the alcohol thing. I explained it to them and they didn't mind. The important thing was to see them on their special day in some way or another.
   Honestly, I don't mind. I probably face more challenges dealing with other things that make me unique or different, like my food sensitivities (try avoiding wheat, dairy, and sugar in an office that ADORES all of the above. I have no will power. I break down. I eat it. I get sick. I chide myself and promise I'll never do it again... And then someone buys a box of Laura Secord Chocolates and puts them next to the photocopier that afternoon, and it's breakdown of will power all over. You get the drift).
   Other adjustments? I pray 5 times a day, but I'm pretty flexible about the specifics. If the nurse's room is in use, or we've got a lot of back to back meetings, I'll just use my office.
   I've had the very very rare situation pop up where someone is down right discriminatory, but then who hasn't? If I wasn't Muslim (and Arab: double-whammy!) I'm sure it would be something else, like sexism, or some other form of discrimination. Honestly, I've been a minority for so long that it's what I'm most comfortable with. I don't think any of it is insurmountable. You just have to explain to people why you're doing "thing x" some other way...
   
2. You commute regularly between Ottawa and Montreal. If you both could have the same or better jobs in the same city, which one would you choose to live in?
   Hmmm... I have to say that right now, even though commuting is hard, I get the best of both worlds. I live in downtown Montreal and get to work at home 2 days of the week, and I live in the 'burbs in Ottawa and work in downtown the other 3 weekdays. I love the vibe of Montreal. I love the vibrant spirit that's just there. I love the "bigness" of it. But I love the quiet of Ottawa, and the kind of unobtrusive beauty, and until last February, Ottawa was my whole life. The overwhelming majority of important memories in my life took place in Ottawa. My sisters and I tobogganing in our back yard in our old house in the winters when we were little; biking with my dad in the summers along the Ottawa river bike paths; going to the Public Library as a teen and coming home with more novels than I could carry; babysitting at the mosque on Fridays; going to Canterbury High School and finding out there that, no matter what I did with my "working hours" in my life, I would always really be a writer; there are too many... Ottawa will always be home. If my husband could work there, I would probably choose to live there. That said, I'm sure my parents missed Egypt like crazy when they moved to Canada for my dad to finish his PhD. and that was over 35 years ago.
   
3. What is the hardest decision you've ever had to make all on your own?
   This is the hardest question. I put off answering this meme while I tried to think of an answer for this, and the bottom line is that I couldn't come up with anything profound at all because any hard decision I have to make, I don't make on my own. I'm very fortunate that some of the people closest to me are actually exceptional people that others look up to and seek out for advice constantly, and that are only ever, at worst, a phone call away. Case in point: my parents. My mother has been part of every big decision I've ever made. She's a details person, and she will sit through every last point and review things until I'm no longer lost. My father is a great sounding board, and when he's done listening to me rant about something, he can usually, in one or two sentences, give me a "grand scheme of things" reminder that helps clarify my position and re-orients me. My sisters are all incredibly supportive and know me insanely well. My husband is super-patient, non-pushy, and brings to my decisions a different perspective since, unlike everyone else I've listed, he hasn't lived in my immediate family unit for the last 25 years. I know this sounds like I'm gushing about these people ridiculously, but it's the truth. And while they'll all tell you I'm a bit stubborn and hard-headed when I want something (albeit using nicer words), it's usually when I want something small, like a chocolate bar, or to watch movie X instead of movie Y.
   So, the hardest decision I ever made on my own? Pretty anti-climactic, but it was probably to go to Arts Canterbury High School for the Literary Arts program, even though it would mean an extra 2 hours on the bus each day, and an extra hour at school, for 4 years. And even that, I asked what my family thought about it. If you want something COMPLETELY independent, it would be something ridiculously minuscule, like buying a bike. Not a hard decision.
   
4. What is there about you that you think makes you just a little bit different from anyone else you know?
   I have a ridiculous memory for completely useless trivia facts and words/lyrics. Anything from the fact that retired hockey player Dave Andreychuk and my uncle have the same birthday (September 29th) to lyrics of "Over my head" by the Fray, to the lyrics of a spoof version of Bohemian Rhapsody that Flogo posted on their website during the 2004 Presidential election, to whole sections of dialogue from Lord of the Rings. I'll correct my sister if she's singing a song and changes some obscure line by one word in the bridge... Also, I have yet to meet another Muslim woman who loves hockey as much as I do.
   
5. You are granted 10 minutes to go back in time, meet up with one person and tell them something. Who would it be and what would you tell them?
   I thought about going back to some famous historical figure and telling them something that could have changed the outcome of the world, but I wrote this off because it strikes me as hubris, and I just don't' think that little old me, given ten minutes, could really accomplish some huge, global thing. So, I'll go for something more personal.
   I'd go back in time to when my maternal grandmother was alive and tell her thank you and how much I love and appreciate her. She lived in Egypt for almost all of her life, but came to stay with my mom when my mom was pregnant with my sisters and I, and we formed a very very tight bond. When I was a baby, she called me her little Cinderella and wouldn't let me sleep in the crib (which caused all sorts of "adjustments" when she had to go back to Egypt and I was used to cooing in the bed with a grown up. She'd make sure my older sister didn't jump on the bed if I was napping. When she came back for the birth of my younger sister, I was already so used to her that she mostly took care of me to free up my mom for my younger sister.
   She came back and stayed with us again for about a year when I was around 10, but I don't think I truly realized just how much she did for us. I loved her, but I loved to go out and play more, and by then, she wasn't as mobile. The next couple of times I saw her on visits to Egypt, she was getting older and starting to forget things. But she had a beautiful, warm heart, and it wasn't until after she died by a few years that I really, truly thought about her more deeply as her own person and not as simply my grandmother. I'd tell her that I included her in my prayers every day, and I'd give her a hug.

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Here are the rules if you want to participate in 5 Questions.

1. Send me an email saying: ”Interview Me” to hummingintheshade@gmail.com
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
3. You can then answer the questions on your blog.
4. You should also post these rules along with an offer to interview anyone else who emails you wanting to be interviewed.
5. Anyone who asks to be interviewed should be sent 5 questions to answer on their blog. I would be nice if the questions were individualized for each blogger.

Five Year Old Cancer Patient Leaves Hundreds of Notes for Her Family

I found this article really inspiring, in a sad sort of way. It shows what you can do in the face of sadness, and the love that can be shared in a family, despite difficulties:

When five-year-old Elena Desserich was diagnosed with inoperable brain cancer, she set out to help her family deal with her death in a truly remarkable way. The kindergartener started writing -- she created "The Kindergarten Survival Guide" for younger sister Grace -- and drawing.
When Elena's cancer robbed her of the ability to speak, she used drawing and painting to communicate with her family. One of her paintings, titled "I Love You," was hung in the Cincinnati Art Museum, next to a painting by Pablo Picasso, one of Elena's favorite artists.
But she also wrote hundreds of notes for her family and hid them in various places around their home in Wyoming; her parents didn't know about the notes until after Elena died. "We were moving some boxes around one day and in between some of the books a note fell out," recalls mom Brooke Desserich. "Each time I would read one of those notes, it was like a little hug from her."
It's no surprise that Elena turned to writing to stay connected to her family. In the nine months between Elena's diagnosis and her death in August of 2007, her parents were also using writing to cope. The couple kept an online journal, chronicling their daughter's illness and their own struggles to come to terms with the inevitable. To their surprise, thousands of people read the journal and reached out to the Desserichs. "Everybody was reading the journal and going, 'This taught me to be a better parent. It taught me to spend time with my children, it taught me to value being a mom and dad,'" marveled Elena's dad, Keith Desserich.
Keith and Brooke Desserich have turned their journal and Elena's notes into a book, "Notes Left Behind." They have also started a foundation called The Cure Starts Now to raise money for pediatric brain cancer. My heart goes out to them -- I also have a kindergartener who likes to draw and leave little notes around for me to find -- but I have to admire the way they were able to teach Elena to see her life as joyful, and not as a tragedy. They really are inspiring parents.

I Love My Gloves! I Hate My Gloves! I'm Confused!

So, random thing I did this morning while heading out for work - pre-drinking my coffee, so that's my excuse for why I was so low on brain-power:
I was leaving the apartment, and in one hand I was holding my pretty, fairly new leather gloves. In the other, I was holding a plastic bag from the kitchen garbage that needed to go down the garbage chute. I pressed the elevator button and walked to the chute. Then, I opened the chute, and tossed my gloves out -- Wait, what???
Yup, that's right, I through my gloves down the garbage chute instead of the garbage I had meant to throw out...
Luckily, I went back this afternoon to the store and they had another pair.
I think I need to sleep...
For those of you Christmas-ing, have a merry one. For everyone else, enjoy your inherent days off... I know I will :)

The Mom Song

This is for all the moms. Enjoy. I totally cracked up.


The Mom Song from Northland Video on Vimeo.

Latte-Spying

So remember waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay back when, I had a post where I explained how my food sensitivities turned me into a coffee-snob, and how I went from ordering the mocha to the soy-sugar-free-mocha, no whip (oh yeah, and please make sure that's plain soy, not vanilla flavoured)?
Well, this lovely blog post cracked me up because I'm not always like this, but once in a while, I do hover to make sure that my drink is being prepared the way I asked. I know it can get annoying for the barristas, but at the same time, I figure it's only fair: the obvious reason is my long list of food-ingredient no-no's, but there are some less obvious reasons too. I used to get lattes all the time, and I don't anymore, so I really want to make sure they're exactly how I asked for them. It's like dessert now, and at most coffee shops, you're paying at least $4 for that drink, so....... Anyway, take a look at the post. Can you see yourself in this woman? Are you a - gasp - latte spy too?

IF by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream -- and not make dreams your master;
If you can think -- and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings -- nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And which is more; you'll be a Man, my son!

Little Angela is 3

That's all... Happy Birthday to my articulate little darling...

A Daddy's (and Momma's) Girl...

Nothing quite like coming back from 7 weeks in the Middle East to the first snow... and not a light snow either; they're expecting 10-15 centimeters by the time it's all over tomorrow morning.
My parents, however, are not daunted by the prospect, and are happy to be home despite the dubious welcome.
And I am sooooooooooooooooo happy to have them back. Welcome home!

Of Old Commercials and Singing Cows

I've always been a fan of commercials. Done right, they are often more entertaining than the program you were actually watching, and there are a few that are just classics. My uncle and I were reminiscing about this commercial last night: the HP "makes beef sing" slogan with the cow singing what I always took to be Elvis... I'm pretty sure the reason we both remember it so well (to the point where, embarrassingly enough, I can essentially sing the whole thing from memory) is because we had taped something once and the commercial was on the tape for years and years... Anyway, like everything else, it's up on Youtube. And because it makes me happy every time I remember it, I thought I'd pass on the ridiculousness...

Happy Eidin' to All!

And to all a good night... Heheh, no just kidding.
Yesterday one of my colleagues at work asked me what we said to each other to wish each other a good Eid: Merry Eid? Happy Eid?
I guess everyone says their own thing, right? When I'm saying it in English, I tend to say "Happy Eid". "Merry Eid" just sounds too Christmas-y, and "Blessed Eid", which would be a literal translation of "Eid Mubarak", which is how we say it in Arabic, sounds too old school in English. It makes me feel like pronouncing the second "e" in "blessed" and getting all Shakespeare-like...
So, Happy Eid it is. I hope those celebrating have a fabulous day, filled with their favourite things, whatever they may be (friends, family, sugar, chocolate, laughter....)
Tune in soon for a great story on how my Little Angela handled her first Eid in Dubai... and in other important Little Angel/Angela news, my Little Angel is now able to say "Nonno" (which is the baby-version of my name that Little Angela came up with). For this delightful tidbit of info, I must take my sister' and parent's word: he refuses to say it into the phone to me... Ah well, good enough I s'pose.

Let's Do the Twist!

One little misstep is all it takes... To be honest, I'm not actually sure which misstep I took, but I had a little "incident" stepping out of the mosque last night and now my ankle is twisted...
One night's sleep, one pressure wrap, and one chocolate bar later, I'm feeling fine, but boy was it sore last night!

Cell Phone Funnies (Explainable This Time)

A couple of weeks ago, while waiting for my sister in front of my building for an errand we were going to run, I found a text from Rogers on my phone saying I could pick and download a free ring tone. Among the options was Julie Andrew's "My Favourite Things", so click I did, and my ring tone was downloaded.
I didn't get any calls for the rest of that day, but the next morning, as I sat down to work, I suddenly heard Julie Andrews singing at a surprisingly high pitch... I had completely forgotten. Instead of checking my phone, I assumed I had a window open on the Internet on some site that had audio attached, or that some pop-up was taking over my computer. I hurried to close all the windows, but couldn't find any pop-ups. Still, the singing had conveniently stopped (this, of course, was my phone going to voicemail). Twenty minutes later, she was back:
Rain drops on roses and whiskers on kittens!
Bright copper kettles and warm woollen mittens!

It clicked: that's my phone!!

I'm such a nerd.