My life is little things that make me happy – like tomatillos at $1.99 per lb.
Originally uploaded by yaznotjaz.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007 – Beautiful things: The mid-week edition
one: flickrphotos. I get to work, check my emails, and the first thing I find is a facebook message from my sisterâ€™s friend, which makes me laugh and pretty much makes my day.
two: hanging-out sessions! There will be dinner with the lovely A this Sunday, and a hanging-out session with rockstars in San Francisco the Sunday after that. And, even better, when I email 2Scoops with yet another small-world connection I have found which concerns him and our mutual friends (“So check this – this is a funny story [well, sort of, since I am easily amused]…”), he replies to say he will indeed be in the Bay soon, and ends with the best postscript ever: “Work is stinky and overrated and you need a break which we will be taking the week I’m there.” Yes! I foresee gelato in my near future.
three: touching base. I have not mentioned my friend H on this weblog in years, I believe. He was always part of what I called our “core group” while in college, but then he graduated the year before I did and returned home to Los Angeles, leaving behind those days of shuffling our belongings from table to table, trading batteries and CDs, sharing books and lecture notes, practicing Arabic calligraphy on white boards meant for neurobiology review. We initially remained in close contact, but lost touch in the last year and a half or so, after he settled back into life in LA and stopped returning our emails and phone calls. Then, last month, after I forwarded an email to “my favorite SoCal buddies,” he unexpectedly replied back with his new email address. I was elated, but, in my usual Yasminay way of doing things, never got around to emailing him back.
Today, H comes up again in a conversation I have with Somayya. “He couldnâ€™t have changed,” I tell Somayya. “In that email he sent me last month, he still started off by calling me ya Yasminay.” It has always been one of my favorite things about H. “Iâ€™m disappointed in him,” she says, and I remember all those months when we were worried sick, not knowing where our friend was, and how to reach him. “I know,” I reply, but I also understand what itâ€™s like to be disappointed in yourself, to distance yourself from those who know you until you feel youâ€™ve made something of your life.
I sit down and email H back to say hello and catch up, and, as a pointed reminder, give him my cell phone number again. During the course of the day, I have two missed calls from him. The next morning, he calls again while Iâ€™m driving to work, and I answer the phone, laughing: “H, my friend! How goes the life, buddy?” Even now, years later, there is no one else I know who can say “Alhamdulillahhhhhh!” [All praise is for God] with such gratitude and enthusiasm as H does. I am so glad to have this friend back in my life, this young man who still speaks so quickly and punctuates his breathless sentences with the same familiar shout of laughter.
four: chapstick. I have just enough time after work to swing by Target and pick up a couple of my favorite Dr. Pepper-flavored chapsticks. Lip gloss is too much of a process sometimes, and I donâ€™t believe in lipstick, so chapstick it is. I do believe in color, though, which is why I always buy the Dr. Pepper-flavored chapstick, which has a nice reddish tint to it. But I always peel off the blatant Dr. Pepper wrapper, otherwise Iâ€™d feel like a twelve year old. Still, Iâ€™m amused Iâ€™m not the only one whoâ€™s thought of this. Months ago, visiting my lovely Hindku-speaking buddy N one evening, we sat talking on her living room floor, and she stared at me when I pulled out my chapstick and quickly swiped it across my lips. “Where did you get that?” she asked, almost accusingly.
I stared back in bafflement. “Umm, from my bag?”
“Oh,” she said, relaxing, laughing. “It’s yours? I have those, too! I was so confused.”
five: citrus scents. Against my better judgment, I also stop by the earrings section at Target, but nothing catches my eye. So I buy citrus-scented perfume instead, because I love citrus-scented things, and I believe in smelling good, no matter what idiotic boys say. This oneâ€™s called Tuesday. What are people thinking, I wonder, when they decide to name perfumes after days of the week?
six: meditation. This one deserves a separate post of its own.