the lanyard

The other day as I was ricocheting slowly
off the blue walls of this room
bouncing from typewriter to piano
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
I found myself in the "L" section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word, Lanyard.
No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
could send one more suddenly into the past.
A past where I sat at a workbench
at a camp by a deep Adirondack lake
learning how to braid thin plastic strips into a lanyard.
A gift for my mother.
I had never seen anyone use a lanyard.
Or wear one, if that’s what you did with them.
But that did not keep me from crossing strand over strand
again and again until I had made a boxy, red and white lanyard for my mother.
She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
and I gave her a lanyard
She nursed me in many a sick room,
lifted teaspoons of medicine to my lips,
set cold facecloths on my forehead
then led me out into the airy light
and taught me to walk and swim and I in turn presented her with a lanyard.
"Here are thousands of meals" she said,
"and here is clothing and a good education."
"And here is your lanyard," I replied,
"which I made with a little help from a counselor."
"Here is a breathing body and a beating heart,
strong legs, bones and teeth and two clear eyes to read the world." she whispered.
"And here," I said, "is the lanyard I made at camp."
"And here," I wish to say to her now,
"is a smaller gift. Not the archaic truth,
that you can never repay your mother,
but the rueful admission that when she took the two-toned lanyard from my hands,
I was as sure as a boy could be
that this useless worthless thing I wove out of boredom
would be enough to make us even."

(billy collins)


found on elizabeth's site

surprise!

and so my plans change again. i'm not 100 percent on them yet, so i am not going to type them all out, but it looks like things are going to be very different, very soon.

it's kinda exciting.

and eid mobarak. happy persian new year.
vernal equinox is at 6.49 am my time tomorrow.

what have i done to prepare? a deep clean of my little house. blew out an egg and wrote "happy new year samin" on it in farsi. and bought a pair of shoes and skirt. not so festive, but my heart is in it!

tomorrow, i get to eat yummy cibo napolitano like sartuncini di riso and timballo (have you ever seen Big Night, possibly the best food movie in the history of cinema? if so, then you might be able to visualize a timballo. they call it timpano in the movie, the sicilian term for the same thing). at least i hope i get to eat these foods. i was promised them last week, too, but all i ended up getting was a bowl of (albeit delicious) ragu'.

the essence of my trip

why, when i am usually a raging internet-weather-checker, did i neglect to check the weather in roma? i was slightly cold the entire day.

my entire train car was FULL of americans. they are coming out of the woodwork. please go back. i even got the same loud family (singing "the wheels on the bus" too many durned times in a row) on the way there AND back.

i love roma.

charmed the peeps at the embassy.

got my visa.

ate a great salad at my favorite and oh-so-cute little place near piazza di spagna.

went to fabriano, but didn't get anything. none of it was exactly what i wanted. i don't know exactly what i want. but i do know exactly what i don't want.

walked past the so-sad memorial outside the spanish embassy.

walked to trevi fountain and threw in my coin for good measure.

had a gelato (straciatella, because they were out of caffe') at san crispino.

walked to the pantheon and took some photos.

had a latte macchiato at tazza d'oro and talked to this little old lady and the barista about the virtues of propolis.

walked to sciam, made friends, and got a discount on some lovely glass beads.

walked to l'antico forno and made friends with the baker and got him to pose for some pics for me.

walked to dar filletaro and had a filetto and got the mama and the waiter to pose for me with their baccala'.

waited for an uncrowded bus to termini.

rushed to buy a ticket for the next train and had to fend off this stupid american girl who was trying to convince me that her need to check the train schedule totally beat out my need to make the next train. and i was first in line, anyway. i just swore at her in italian, and i think she was buying that i was italian, until she saw my atm card. jeez. cutters suck.

am back and pooped.

but happy.

i can't believe it's not butter!

best. news. ever.

i just checked my email, and the last thing i ever expected was waiting for me in the inbox (yes, it's true. the cynicism has worn me down):

the first mockups of the book, sent by the designer.
oh. my. god. they. are. so. beautiful.

i cannot believe this. i can't believe it. i just can't.

and, as i showed them to my turkish friend, S (who, at the time, was singing the funniest incarnation of "baby got back" that i have ever heard), i started to realize that bv's other book is in every. book. store. in. america, and now my name will be on the front of a book that is in every. book. store. in. america.

oh.

my.

god.

now, these mockups are only for a few pages of the book, and i am sure that a lot of things will change from now until when the book finally comes out, but just seeing the words that i wrote on the page with those beautiful designs, as if it were a REAL BOOK was pretty much enough to make me pee in my pants.

not literally.

but almost.

FP

i like brian's idea of making a list of all of the famous people (FP) he has met (i am assuming that most of them come from his work), and i was considering making one myself (and maybe even telling the story of the time i burnt one FP's pork sauce, or did a little jig with another FP), but i am trying really hard to get over my obsession with fame, so maybe i will wait until i have worked through this a little more before i make my own list.

but i wonder, what FP have you met?

how do you say ciao in urdu?

thursday i get to go to roma, and i am really excited about it. i have to do major laundry tomorrow, and iron my only nice clothes for going to the embassy, but after i get my visa, i get to play all around town. yippee!

queste sono le cose che vorrei fare a roma:

prendere il mio visto

fare un giro nel trastevere

mangiare un filetto di baccala' a dar filettaro a santa barbara

comprare delle perle di vetro a sciam

mangiare una pizza bianca al forno campo de' fiori

avere un gelato alla gelateria migliore del mondo--il san crispino

andare a fabriano a comprare della bella carta


i love roma. for me, it ranks up there with paris and new york as one of those cities made of dreams (london and barcelona are in the second tier), but it took me three trips there to understand its glory. i love it so much now, in fact, that it might just be my favorite city, period. and it goes without being said that roma makes firenze look provincial.

how could i forget?

i was just taking a shower (because i was too lazy to take one this morning and will be too lazy to take one tomorrow morning) when i realized that today is chahar shanbeh souri, the eve of the last wednesday of the persian year, when it is traditional to jump over fires, chanting
zardi-eh man as toh,
sorkhi-eh toh as man

(which roughly translates to:
all of my paleness, to you, fire,
and all of your brightness to me)!

i cannot believe that i forgot!

luckily, being the resourceful genius (and humble, too!) that i am, i knocked on T's door and asked to borrow a lighter, then came back to my little house, lit the only (stinky) candle that i own, and jumped over it a bunch of times, chanting my little heart out.

this is the first year that i haven't been around any other iranians for persian new year. when i lived in london, at least, i had the king's college persians to cling on to for this, my favorite, tradition.

and don't worry, mmc, i jumped over one for you, too, just like always.

these are the things

these are the things i saw on my walk home today that i wanted so badly to buy, but didn't, for a million reasons:

the amazing multi-colored hat made out of many different pieces of ribbon sewn together (i am not doing it justice with this description)

the tortoiseshell persol sunglasses

the extremely cute striped sandals and also the really sweet ballerina slippers

the collapasta smeltata in one of about ten colors

the tostapane grilly things that you hold over the burner

some yummy beignets and millefoglie, and chocolates, too!

everything from the cute cartoleria

i didn't pass by the store with the half pants i have been ogling, but i am sure that i would have considered that, too

sometimes i feel like i live in a country of grandmas

sometimes i feel like i live in a country of grandmas.

i wore a tshirt and halfpants again today, and flipflops. it was so warm that i had to take off the fleece i was wearing.

but on the bus, every single person made sure to stare at my feet, my bare arms.

and when i got to zibibbo, everyone was shocked to see how i was dressed.

they asked if i was actively trying to catch the flu and die.

they asked if i was trying to have a pot dropped on my feet, or burn my toes off with scalding water.

the answer is no

and no.

i was just so excited. and hot damn, fa caldo fuori!

some good stuff that's happened in the past few days:

--i heard about this bar in firenze ovest where they sell every imaginable candy and chocolate in the universe (i'm gonna go out there to get some stuff for your kids, tj)

--i met a really nice girl from wwu, and we reminisced about bellingham. i forgot to tell her about that baskin-robbins incident, coach, but i did tell her all about the art museum and seeing her campus

--it hit 60 degrees F finally--i am wearing halfpants and a tshirt as i type!

--ak sent me an awesome package with 2 new chapsticks, a ton of bubble gum, and some peeps, all in the cutest box eva! thank you so much! the peeps led to the inevitable demonstration of peeps-in-the-microwave for all of the uninitiated.

--i made major progress on the book, and my goal of finishing a (very) rough draft before i leave in april is seeming more and more do-able every day.

--i ate my first strawberries! yum!

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

--Rumi

i am so

i am so happy that i don't have a television. i cannot imagine what the images of madrid look like. and i don't want to know.

i keep hoping that it wasn't al qaeda, i keep trying to convince myself and others that it wasn't them. but i feel less and less sure every minute.

i hope that whoever did this is caught, and given the worst sort of retribution. i hope that it never happens again. people keep saying that italy is next, that spain got this for fighting america's war, and italy is second in line. please, please do not let it be true.

please.