"Kateh-Maast"

It's 12:15 p.m. and I rush downstairs to the small cafeteria owned by this Koran man, known as "Charlie". The safe foods to eat off of his menu are cold sandwiches normally. But today, I have a stomach ache and some sort of nausia, caused most likely by simple anxiety. You know...the every day stress...

I ask him for just "white rice". I already have "maast" or plain yogurt in the fridge in the office upstairs, which I bought one day recently from Ralphs, when I had my first "Kateh-Maast" attack.

This is the third time I am getting just white rice from him this month and he is getting annoyed since "just white rice" is not exactly doing business for him.

So he suggests, rather kindly--as if I have no idea what is good for me to eat--that I should add some chili to my white rice. You know...make it a more meaningful lunch.

I smile (and laugh to myself of course, since adding chili will defeat the whole purpose of simplicity). By now, I realize that I have to tell him the truth--or at least part of the truth. So I explain that I am not feeling well and need to eat something simple to ease my stomach.

He smiles back. He seems to understand now.

I go back upstairs to get my "maast" to add to my "Kateh". I am happy now...somethings like the simple concept of "Kateh-Maast" are so hard to explain to those who have never had it.

Maybe...only maybe, next time I go back, I will tell him about "maast". Maybe then he will bring some to sell, so I don't have to go Ralphs just for "maast".

GWB countdown--the Rainman Way

GWB won by 534 votes on November 7, 2000...534...definitely, definitely.

Tonight, GWB gave his 7th State of the Union address and said the word "Iran" at least 6 times...6 times...definitely. (I rebelled by not watching his 5th and 6th addresses, in 2005 and 2006).

GWB will be out of the office in 649 days, 15594 hours and 935697 minutes.

God Bless the US and A (Well...that was Borat actually).

1500 Purdue Ave.

i have this dream--a nightmare really- that we failed and as a result, we are all back at the 1500 Purdue Ave. apartment in LA. It's a horrific feeling...sometimes I can't even breathe in my nightmare and I can feel the walls coming closer to me, trapping me in that place forever.

I have this nightmare repeatedly.

the truth is we did fail...badly, But instead of being back at Purdue, we are scattered all over the world. I wonder which one is better? at least, at Purdue, mom cooked a warm dinner and we were all together.

who is to be blamed? or is it just life as usual?

The Red Wall Effect

It all happened so quickly. One night, she said she is moving out. She had found a place near work. We put an ad for another roommate..many unqualified people came and went. Finally, this girl showed up who seemed interesting. A week later, she had packed all her stuff in these white trash bags from Target, went and picked up the U-Hall on her own and did not hire any men to help her either. It was a Sunday in December and it was windy. I bought my brown boots that night from Macy's and when I came home, she was gone.

Then, the new girl came. Told us she wants to paint her bedroom green, which was fine. But then she had this radical idea for the living room: wanted to paint one wall red! She thought it would be great with her green couch contrast. At first, I was hesitant to allow that much change to happen, but then I told myself it might be a good change for all of us...

One Sat. morning, while I was hung over from the night before, the painters came. My headache worsened with the smell of fresh paint. I woke up around 3 p.m. and it was all done. Wow. Such an unfamiliar feeling in one's own home. As a result of her new green couch by the red wall, my old and dirty couch had to be moved to the opposite wall.

This is when it got weird: one night I came home to watch TV and naturally sat on my own couch, which was now on the other side...it was facing the TV but everything was ghareeneh. As if something had occurred in my brain and now my view of the world--well the TV at least---had flipped. Worse, on my left side was this firey Red wall.

I couldn't take it anymore. I packed my own stuff too. Donated the couch to some freshman dude at UCLA and was outta there...For good. It was one thing to lose your roommate of 4 years along with a the memories--a whole chapter in your life-- and to get a new roommate to adjust to, but it was somethin' else to lay on your couch, and watch TV from a different point of view and have a Red wall stare out you.

I was gone...See you later.

In the Business of Words

One sunny day in early spring of 2001, in the afternoon sometime, I met with professor V to get help on my legal writing assignment. He was a Professor of law who did pro bono cases only and volunteered his time to help students with their writing. Interesting man...

When we met, we chatted about small things too, like the fact that he likes urban places and would love to visit Tehran one day! Then, he read my draft and told me something I will never forget: "words are a lawyer's fighting tools--they are your sword and rifle. Just like a stethoscope is a fighting tool of a physician. Learn how to use them wisely."

As I sit in my office, six year later, I now know what he meant. At times, I spent a good 5 minutes debating if I should use "and" V. "or" v. "and/or". When I draft a motion and argue a case law, and read and re-read and edit and read once for commas and once for periods and once for spacing and on and on...I remind myself of the heart surgeon who operated on my Dad four years ago...one little nerve, one small vain and my Dad could have died. Small things matter when you are fighting.

When you are in the Business of Words, every comma counts.