Bad days, voting, and hope.

On two hours of sleep I drove 100 miles at 6:00am for a meeting that lasted 10 minutes and had a I should have stayed in bed hugging my binkie blanket day to follow it. The dishwasher refused to clean my dishes. My car's new rear tires are going flat. I'm freezing. I'm tired. I'm feeling overwhelmed. But- the part of my day that involved standing in thirty degree weather for three hours waiting to cast my ballot was the most beautiful part of my day. As I stood in the booth and stared at the names staring back at me, it hit me again the blessing it is to have the right to vote. Children clung to their parent's arms their eyes half closed, their parent's with their uniforms still on, tireder still. An old lady in front of me, with a big hat finished her last round of chemo for Ovarian cancer and stood in line in front of us. She walked with a limp as the hours passed but she refused to sit for even a moment. As I saw the crowd of diverse people inching their way down I felt proud that this is my Country. That we are a Democracy. Because it is this, which gives me hope. Today, though I will go to bed a bit heart broken, a bit bone weary, I will sleep with a smile knowing that I voted, I voted, I voted, and that it felt great.

Another "why I don't vote" reason to address

Bobullah: I can't vote! The lines are too long!
The next eight years will be longer, if you don't.

If I were as rich as the McCains

Saw this meme on Baraka's site and couldn't resist! Its been so long since I meme'd.

The McCains own 13 cars, eight homes and have access to a corporate jet. If you were as insanely rich as them, where would your eight homes be and why?

The only rule is: The homes must be within the borders of the country you live in, so as to utterly emulate the McCains.

When you’re done, tag 8 people, so that they may join in the self-indulgence, forgetting about the crappy property market and the equivalent of The End of Pompeii on Wall-Street. You could spend your time hammering your doors and windows shut in preparation for the Apocalypse, but this meme is so much more fun!

If I were as insanely rich as the McCains I’d live in:

1. A townhome on Lombard Street in San Francisco, or really, any house in San Francisco, would be just fine, thank you, because the air so good for desis, and because its San Francisco!

2. A beach house in Princeville, Kauai, HI. Its the closest I will ever come to seeing paradise on earth.

3. A pent house in Waikiki, because I think its such a fun place to be, constantly full of life, and full of fantastic people watching for a wannabe writer like me.

4. A bungalow on Oahu's North Shore: It is serene and peaceful with breathtaking mountain views. (Hmm, is there a pattern here)

5. A cottage in Stars Hollow, CT. (This is fantasizing after all, right?!)

6. A cabin in Asheville, NC: You're in the mountains in a fantastically artsy city with delicious food just minutes from the mountains. Its like a cabin trip year round!

7. A seven bedroom sprawling estate near the Punalu'u black sand beach on the Big Island (can't help it!)

8. A ten bedroom ranch house in Montana, near glacier national park. Montana seems an awesome place to be and I can't wait to see this park one day so may as well buy a house there!

Lucky eight: you, you, and you! Whoever wants to can, if you do it please let me know!

My fellow prisoners, I couldn't agree with you more

In case you missed it:



and..

Vote, please vote

You might read the title and think, thanks for that Captain Obvious, now you may go off and sail away on a ship called "DUH", but I have met so many people recently who don't plan to vote. Why? For a number of reasons:

1. I'm morally opposed to voting. I understand this to some degree but you live in a country in which democracy depends on your vote. If you live here, work here, pay taxes here, and if the people elected will rule you, then you should vote. If you are financially independent of your parents and disagree with the principles this country was founded on, then perhaps interviews for jobs in a country whose system of rule works for you might be the best option for you to live hypocrisy free.

2. My state is solid democratic. It is that way because its how people vote. If everyone did this, it won't stay that way for long.

3. My state is solid republican. That's me, but I planned to vote even before polls shows that this election if everyone actually shows up to cast a vote might actually be the first time in decades that my state may go democratic.

4. My vote won't matter, I'm just one person. Yes, your vote matters. It matters when later candidates look to see, "who voted most, which demographic should we target next time and make sure we address their issues?" regardless of who wins. Also- in 2000, my county was one of the counties where Bush was selected by less than twenty votes. Your vote does indeed matter.

5. I dont like either candidate so why vote? Because that isn't the only issue up for voting. There are bond measures, local judges, and council slots that you will ultimately decide.

6. I'm not informed on the issues. Then GET informed. With cable television repeating news around the clock, with websites, and youtube, you have no reason to not get informed.

People have fought hard for this seemingly meaningless right to vote. It may seem like a given but it wasn't always so. Early voting has started in virtually all states, please, please, please, vote.

Sign Stealing Catch-22

After seeing sign after sign of McCain supporters popping up like dandelions in my parent's neighborhood, my parents decided to put up an Obama sign, a daisy to add to the mix. My parents took care to make sure their neighborhood association would allow, writing them a letter to inform them of their intent [which they didn't have to do considering the McCain dandelions] and then waiting a reasonable time before putting it up. A few days after putting it up, my brother came home and saw the sign was gone! So what are my parents going to do? Why, they're going to buy another one, that's what! Tracy sent me this link which I found absolutely hilarious and apt to the rationale behind forever replenishing one's stolen Obama yard signs.

Colin Powell on Meet the Press

I loved Powell's talk on Meet the Press. But the part that affected me the most I've cut and pasted here. It's a bit lengthy, but if you did not watch Meet the Press, and particularly if you are a Muslim reader this is a must read.

I'm also troubled by, not what Senator McCain says, but what members of the party say. And it is permitted to be said such things as, "Well, you know that Mr. Obama is a Muslim." Well, the correct answer is, he is not a Muslim, he's a Christian. He's always been a Christian. But the really right answer is, what if he is? Is there something wrong with being a Muslim in this country? The answer's no, that's not America. Is there something wrong with some 7 year-old Muslim-American kid believing that he or she could be president? Yet, I have heard senior members of my own party drop the suggestion, "He's a Muslim and he might be associated terrorists." This is not the way we should be doing it in America. I feel strongly about this particular point because of a picture I saw in a magazine. It was a photo essay about troops who are serving in Iraq and Afghanistan. And one picture at the tail end of this photo essay was of a mother in Arlington Cemetery, and she had her head on the headstone of her son's grave. And as the picture focused in, you could see the writing on the headstone. And it gave his awards--Purple Heart, Bronze Star--showed that he died in Iraq, gave his date of birth, date of death. He was 20 years old. And then, at the very top of the headstone, it didn't have a Christian cross, it didn't have the Star of David, it had crescent and a star of the Islamic faith. And his name was Kareem Rashad Sultan Khan, and he was an American. He was born in New Jersey. He was 14 years old at the time of 9/11, and he waited until he can go serve his country, and he gave his life. Now, we have got to stop polarizing ourself in this way.

I almost felt like he just gave me a hug and a cup of hot cocoa. For a fleeting moment I feel just a little bit safer, that maybe things will be okay.

Thousand Words

Pictures, they can do that sometimes, this is one of those times. I thought it was photo shopped but apparently its real. Does it mean anything? Not sure, but it is strange.

Three Beautiful Things Thursday

1. Watching the Presidential debate at Obama headquarters in D.C.
2. Seeing the monument and Capitol Hill from my bedroom window.
3. If one must have a roommate, a nice and normal one.

Random thoughts of no real consequence

I'm in DC for a conference. I can see the monument from my window. Last night there was a full moon in the clear sky, and it cast a glow over the Potomac. There is a McCain "Victory 2008" bus parked outside our hotel since Sunday. I find this ironic since my conference is for "bleeding heart liberals" who serve the public interest. Being in my nation's Capital so close to elections is special. My hotel is nice but one downside is that free wireless is available only if one sits in the lobby. This results in inevitable reflections as I look around me, some interesting characters that give me pause for reflection.

The young Indian waiter where I type, watches me each day trying to catch my eye which I in turn, actively avoid. Finally, three days later he walks up to my table, clears his throat and tries in a lighthearted voice to strike up conversation. "You from India?" I glance and smile, "No, Pakistan." His face goes three shades pale, "I am SO sorry." I bit my lip to keep from laughing. How many times has someone asked me that question followed with "Ah well, y'all look the same ya know?"[For the record, if you think I'm Indian, I'm okay with it, really!] [Also, why are desis supremely fascinated with spotting other desis? In DC we're like butterflies in the rain forest, yet we stare at each other like small babies encountering another counterpart for the first time!]

A group across from me drink cocktails engaged in casual conversation. Politics, I think until I hear them. A meeting of those with missing family. One lady with a page boy cut and blue jeans talks about her father. He went to Nepal and never returned. The other, a son in Iraq. "Do you think we'll ever know what happened?" Ms. Page asks as she takes a sip. A lady with coke bottle glasses shrugs as she looks at her nails. I'm amazed by how neutral they seem. They could be discussing the weather for all the emotion revealed. Maybe time heals? Maybe it numbs.

"Mind if I sit here too?" asks a fellow conference participant, tall and lanky with glasses and sandy brown hair. He slides his laptop on the table and sits down in front of me. His loneliness is palpable, a parakeet perched on his shoulder announcing itself to the world. His face drops a little when I quickly mention a spouse. As we talk, other participants join until there are eight of us. Today, he told me he has a date with one of them. His face looked full of hope and I saw him smile off during sessions. His hope is tangible. I hope it works out for him.

And That is That

Is being called a "that" offensive? Or is it being blown up as McCain's camp says? Click on this link and scroll to 1:30 where the satirical Biden makes a similar statement [before THAT become the issue it is]... I think the answer is clear.



Incidentally, I too am voting for That One! [Thanks for sharing Tee!]

On Ripples

This morning I parked my car in the pouring rain in front of building 644 for my meeting at building 645. It was as though a toddler had numbered the buildings. 644 was next to 756 which was next to 345. The rain began pelting harder as I searched. Finally, I saw a man in the distance ready to cross the road. I called out to him, he paused and I went to him and asked him if he knew where 645 was. He told me he didn't know, so walked back with me to his office, quite a distance away to look at a map. It's no big deal, I said as we walked, I don't want to inconvenience you,but he inisisted it was no trouble. Turned out it was between 144 and 987. Naturally! I delayed him 15 minutes. He could have said no. But he didn't. With the news filled with stories of harsh, depressing acts of depravity, it's small acts of kindness, which beg nothing in return that inspire me with hope and remind me of our humanity.

Remember there's no such thing as a small act of kindness. Every act creates a ripple with no logical end. --Scott Adam

So mad I could shoot a moose

I might go into more later, but as I head to bed tonight I just wanted to say that what struck me tonight aside from McCain's poor attempts at humor (Not you, Tom), was the particularly demeaning nature of his "That One" comment. [3 second clip below]. I get this is an election and you wanna win (that's me bein folksy guys!) but you don't have to go an' get mean and nasty with attacks that have nothin to do with substance but simply go towards cultivatin unbased fears. He is not, a THAT one, he is a Senator, like you. Let your record speak, not your fear tactics. Oh, and the not shaking hands things? [video of it in the link] Uncool [trying hard to be polite].

Aisha, and the e-mail mix ups

I like my name, but its a common name and thus can lead to mix ups by busy people sending out e-mails and typing out Aisha and hitting send forgetting that their address book contained approximately 35 others with the same first name. Do I correct these people? You betcha! Sometimes though its funnier to correct people than others such as these: "Thanks for coming to my dinner party, its nice to finally be around people I really want to hang with" [Ouch!], or 'Your son is SO cute! This time you guys come visit us!' [no son here], or "I've contacted you three times about the party supplies for bubballoos party. If I dont hear from you by Friday I will go with someone else." [(1) Not the party coordinator (2) Not invited, D'oh!] The most hilarious one from a friend who lives on the other side of the country, as evidenced by the summary below.

E-mail: You're invited to my house for dinner! Can't wait to see you!
Response: Aw, think you got the wrong Aisha ;). Thanks for the invite but I think you're just a tad too far for me to drive to, haha!
E-mail: No, silly, I invited you. But I know its rush hour so I figured you wouldn't come. Still, try to trekk out here, I might give up on you one of these days.
Response: No really, I live two thousand miles from you.
E-mail: No need to exxagerate, I get it. You didn't want to come.
Response: Aisha Iqbal, my address is XXXX. Did you relocate?
E-mail: Ooops, mad at the wrong Aisha, sorry!

If my parents had named me Cleopatra, perhaps such incidents would be safely avoided.

Happy Friday!

The scary thing about this child's Bill O'Reilly impersonation is that, its dead on accurate. Its only 55 seconds but spot on and hilarious.

Joe Biden hit it out of the ballpark.

CNN says that ain't so, but me here in main street America, God bless my heart, though I am not Joe Six Pack, do truly believe that Joe Biden won the debate despite what the pundits have to say. I am truly horrified that a woman who avoided answering the question presented and instead chose questions of her own liking to answer is considered to have "held her own." Joe Biden. hit. it. out. of. the. park.

Misperception...

Today after Eid prayer, I made my way through a sea of hundreds down a narrow hallway towards the courtyard and heard the sound of a child crying. I turned to my left to see a young blonde boy of about three, his blue eyes filled with tears shivering in the corner amongst shoes, crying for his mother.

I made my way towards him, leaned down, and asked if he was lost. He nodded, his breathing growing more ragged. I looked around to see if we could find his mother from where we stood but we were engulfed by the crowd pushing into us on either side. I asked him to hold my hand and walk with me outside into the courtyard where we could stand on a bench and look for his mother. He gripped my hand and we walked down the hall. Finally, I saw the exit but as I took a step I felt my hand jerk roughly. I turned around and saw a woman in dark abaya and a red flower on her lapel yank the young boy and hold him tightly to her chest. Her eyes were swollen red from crying. She looked at me with fear and confusion and she gripped her son tighter. I tried to explain to her, as the sea of women trickled outside, but she seemed to not understand me. I wanted to tell her that I was just trying to help, that her son was panicked and I wanted him to feel safe and that my intentions were not evil. She stared at me for a moment and then walked away.

As I saw her leave I wondered: Did she think I snatched him away from her? Did she think I was making off with him? Will she now be frightened of her son at the Masjid or standing near desis? Or was the look of fear that I saw not about me at all, but her own private thoughts as she searched for her briefly missing son? I wish I could tell her that I meant no harm. That I just wanted to treat this child as I would want to have been treated in his shoes frightened and scared as he was. I hope she knows I did not mean him harm.