eat pray love

"People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that's what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that's holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then they leave. And thank God for it."

I have to say, I'm pretty lucky that since most of my soulmates are out and about and not with me, physically, I've been able to keep & treasure them in my life as though they've been here forever.

Also, a friend dropped this on my wall one day:

"it's not until you leave a place that you truly do start embracing the characters of the people who were there with you."

I love you guys.

a couple things

So much for see you in September. I think I've just become attached to the fact that I have an audience here and that's nice, to know people are out there who care what you say. I think that's why I could never keep a blog before now. I have something to say and someone to say it to. That sentence ended with a preposition but I can't be bothered to fix it. 

Anyways. I was reading Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert and this sentence struck me:

That's the thing about a human life -- there's no control group, no way to ever know how any of us would have turned out if any variables had changed. 

Just never thought of it that way. This book is number 3 on my list and it's pretty good so far. It's been on my shelf for goodness knows how long but I've noticed that I keep reading books when I need to read them, when they mean something more to me. Funny how that works out. 

Oh and congratulations, self, I got my permit again today -- only one wrong, woop. Ugh, I hate driving... But to reward myself, I bought two blank canvases (Aaron Brothers was having a sale!), rented 3 films (Bride & Prejudice, Driving Lessons, and Paris, Je t'aime), aaaand oh wait that's it.

Last thing: while I'm proud of myself for having kept up this blog for the first year, I realise I didn't focus a ton on what I've started to like about Manchester, which I probably should do. Less of school abroad and more of just abroad. I think I'll take a day out next week to pop back in and rack my brain for something, ha. Toodles. 

packing, endings, leaving & home / a year in review

I had 8 medium-sized cardboard boxes into which I was to pack my entire life away in about a day. It was the most depressing thing watching my room turn back into the bare empty dreary place I walked into last September. Even my friends couldn't bear to see the sad walls and shelves. My room was chaos. Everything was on the floor, pulled out of drawers, on my bed, on my desk. I threw all my clothes onto my bed and slept in Becca's sleeping bag curled up in a ball on the corner of my springy mattress. It was uncomfortable, to say the least. Eventually though, I did get everything packed away (in only seven boxes!), sent them away with the storage company, and got started on my suitcases. I was taking one super fat suitcase and one smaller duffel-y bag thing that my mom had given me in January stuffed with things I didn't exactly need or have anywhere to put. So I shoved both bags with stuff and filled my third suitcase with things I didn't need to bring back home with me. That suitcase is going home with Becca because she is so kind and sweet and will take care of my things, yaaay. Still, with all this stuff I was leaving behind, I'd still have to pay for my overweight bag at the airport. Oh, well. 

Becca also helped me move a giant dresser that my dad thought I'd need way back in September (I definitely asked for a two level shelf or something really small that could fit in a corner. Unfortunately, this giant dresser also fit in the corner). And a small desk hutch. And that extra mattress pad. I'm so high maintenance. So we moved everything to my new room which is a little bigger than my old room but at least it's above ground and has a proper window. I'll just have to rearrange some stuff to make it work. 

Throughout this, Becca and I also rekindled our obsessed with COOKING MAMA, the best Nintendo DS game ever. And we watched Notting Hill because Anisah'd never seen it. And we watched some cricket because it's fun and passes the time. 

Then came Wednesday morning and I was pretty much popping out my eyeballs in excitement. I called a cab for 8am and then sat around with my luggage in reception, waiting. Anisah, Becca and Sorina all came out to send me off and it was only then as I stood giving them hugs in a row that I realised this was the end. That there would be no more of all of us at Gabs just chillaxin maxin relaxin all cool. It was still hitting me as suddenly I felt like I was being pulled into the cab because there was nowhere else to go and nothing else to say except I love you and I'll miss you and goodbye. 

It happened again, you know? That whole things-are-ending-without-warning-now-DEAL. It's just harder to realise that most things in life end without ceremony, with no glittering graduation at the end that you can count down to and prepare for. It just happens and you deal. It kind of sucks ass and if the rest of life is like this, that sucks more ass.

Off I went to the little Manchester airport where I was charged for my overweight bag but fortunately was not asked too many questions like my mom had been interrogated in April: Why were you here? Where are you going? Who were you visiting? What does your daughter study? The guy was really nice and just said, 'So, you're going home, yeah?' and then asked me all the normal 'where have your bags been since you packed them?' and 'where did you pack them?'  and 'are you a terrorist hiding a WMD in your bags?' questions. 

Then off I went to have some breakfast and walk to my gate. When we boarded I was, as usual, hoping to be seated next to my future husband. Again, this was not the case. First, a really nice middle aged guy sat next to me and said hi and smiled only to realise he was in the wrong row and had to move up one. In his place, there was some not so nice angry looking reedy late middle aged British guy who just kept talking to his bffl across the aisle. He didn't even say hi to me. Whatever. 

I tried to sleep the whole way but couldn't get comfortable and therefore slept for what felt like ages but was really about 3 hours and then woke up and spent the next 3 hours listening to music and / or watching the Office and / or whatever other random shows they had playing on the teeny screen I could barely see. 

Then we arrived in Chicago and I switched to my American sim card to call my parents and learn that we now had unlimited texting so of course I mass texted a ton of people and just wasted the next 3 hours doing just that. Also, I started reading the Heroes graphic novel Becca got me for my birthday. The book is excellent and I love it. Two things I noticed in Chicago: a) EVERYTHING IS SO CHEAP HERE. b) people are no longer attractive as their accents loudly grate on my ears. It's so sad, but so true. Also, I was buying a bagel and the price said 2.69 and after I gave the woman a fiver, she handed back only two dollar bills. For a second I waited with my hand outstretched for my change when I realised, she wasn't giving me anymore and that I now had to remember to include ... TAX, dun dun duuuuun. It was actually a shocking and saddening experience I hope none of you ever have to go through. 

Next was the flight to Los Angeles (WOOOOOOO!) during which I was sat next to a very nice young couple who were playing Scrabble on an iPhone/iPod touch the entire time. I tried to sleep again but failed but I don't remember what I did to entertain myself. I'd put my Heroes book back in my backpack which I'd placed in the overhead compartment thing and I didn't want to bother anyone to get it out. But finally, finallllllllllly, I arrived in Los Angeles and couldn't stop smiling. I seriously couldn't. I was too excited. All my luggage arrived safely except I think my smaller bag got put on the earlier flight to LA and was therefore waiting for in a hidden corner rather than on the conveyor belt. And it was all fun and dandy when we reunited and my whole family came out to pick me up and then we took a family trip to Trader Joe's and then we went home and had dinner (oh, glorious homecooked food!) and then I went to bed. And woke up promptly at 7am. 

Surprisingly, I've still been waking up early, depending on when I go to sleep but I'm hoping that'll keep up so I can push myself to read all the books I want to read and do all the stuff I want to do and paint and whatever. I already went to the Galleria to stop by the new LUSH and bought me some bath bombs and had a loverly bath. The guys who work at Lush are so unbelievably camp it's .. unbelievable. I swear the guy helping me had a mustache glued on.

Otherwise, things at home are slow but fine. I've seen some friends and hope to see more soon, caught up with the ones that aren't in CA but were still hard to keep in contact with while in the UK. I've continued to watch Arrested Development, ordered way too many books and plan to start reading them asap. We got a giant new tv and wonder how the hell we ever watched anything on our old tv just because when we had them sat next to each other, the size difference was ridiculous. I've got a tonnnnnnn more music from my brother, mainly electronic stuff that seems to be sweeping the nation for some reason (deadmau5, Girl Talk, Little People, etc). Oh and some Rage Against the Machine and Kanye because my brother thinks that because I bought 808s that I don't appreciate Kanye's older stuff. And some Hieroglyphics, Blue Scholars, Beastie Boys, Ratatat, and Daft Punk. I miss my brother. He left on Sunday to go back to Irvine because he's got summer school. On the way we bought him a new car. Check him ouuuuut. 

Otherwise, I think I'm out for the summer. I'll pop in every so often to detail some adventures and update the reading list and musicness (Paolo Nutini's "These Streets") and rant about how much I hate driving and how my dad is forcing me to get a license but otherwise, I'll see you in September.

Oh, one last note on Manchester and my happiness. It got to a point of indifference. I got to know a bit more of the city, like the Northern Quarter where all the cool shops are but it's always empty around there. And the pretty area, Deansgate, where all the high-end shops are and multimillion pound flats are. But the campus (what campus?) still is just ... whatever. Which is where I think I'm at now. I just hope I'm excited to go back when it comes time because right now you would have to drag me to hell and back to get me on a plane to Manchester. I still hate that the campus isn't a campus and that the city isn't much of a city. Schooling was just alright, hopefully grades won't be too bad. Life was just okay, but I love my friends and they were the best things for me there and while nothing's perfect, I'll deal, for now. See ya.

oxfaaace / what a wonderful world

We dragged ourselves out of bed early after a hardcore night of raving it up and bleary-eyedly, unconsciously struggled to collect all the necessary items for this weekend getaway. We had to be out of the hall by 9.15am to catch our 10.27am train. And then we checked the train tickets. 

Apparently, our past selves, when planning the future, were actually very considerate and remembered we would be raving it up the night before and therefore awarded us ample time to wake up well-rested and ready to go for our ... TWELVE.27pm train. Le sigh.

Whatever. This way we could spend more time with Amina in the morning and wake everyone up at a decent hour to say goodbye. And off we went! We took the "free" bus which cost 50p to the train station, bought some food and sat down on our platform (4) for our Cross Country train to Bournemouth (stopping at Oxford along the way). 

We sat down in coach C amongst a sea of OAPs (old age pensioners) and marvelled at the fact that we were indeed the only people under the age of 50 on this coach. Except for the infant but he doesn't count. 

The train journey was ... interesting. I believe the caffeine we had injected (read: drank in tea) earlier that morning was coming into full effect, to what I imagine would have been the despair of all the old people around us. Not that we took notice. Because we definitely played the Alphabet game with diseases as the topic. It dawned on me that the people around us probably had half the diseases and conditions we were calling out. Including 'I' for 'I cannot see' and 'J' for 'Jaffa cake.' 

The rest of the train journey consisted of Anisah trying to stealthily take pictures of me before I'd actually fallen asleep and an old man shaking his head at her saying, 'That's not very nice.' Good ol' chap, having my back. Then I used Anisah's pashmino/a/i scarf to disguise myself as a ninja.

Why yes, I am in university! How could you possibly assume otherwise? Then I performed a spot on rendition of 'Bounce' by Timbaland, which goes as follows:

BOUNCE,

like yo ass got the hiccuuuups

BOUNCE,

like we be ridin in mah pickuuuuup

BOUNCE.

Anisah has incriminating evidence in the form of a pixelated video on her phone. Woop. The remaining bits of the journey were filled with us yelling SHEEP and COWS whenever we saw either of these species out our windows. 

We arrived, eventually, mid-afternoon in Oxford and walked our way to George Street to the Eurobar, our hotel. We thought it would basically be a step up from a hostel in that we got our own rooms but still had to share a bathroom. It was a bar downstairs,

and up three flights of stairs was our room, 14 (there was no 13!), the very last room on the very top floor. 

... and it was amazing. It was about 3x the size of a room at Gabs, bright and sunny with three windows, a little TV, a sink, a wardrobe, a dresser, two bedside tables, a double bed AND a twin bed. We could fit three people in there, the extra space being for boys, Anisah says. Clearly.

So we got all settled in and then promptly left the hotel to explore Oxford. Our hotel was just down the street from my college's street (St Pete's, whatwhat) so I dragged Anisah there first, before the college closed to visitors. I had found this website a little while ago called igotanenvelope.com and I decided I'd leave my own in Oxford. I left it, of course, on the Steps.

 

I put Anisah's address on it so I really hope someone picked it up and sends something back. Anisah promises not to open it till I get back, if it ever arrives.

Afterwards, we continued to galavant across Oxford, walking pretty much over every inch of the city and that is no exaggeration. By the last day we'd probably tread on every street at least 5 times, covering and doing as much in three days as regular people would do in a week. But we are not regular people. So we saw Keble College and Jesus College and ... Oh, and then we went to have dinner at Chutney's, only the greatest Indian restaurant to exist anywhere. It was delightful, as usual.

And then we frolicked some more, stopping in Christ Church meadows for a bit, taking a walk around the fields and river / creek, running away from swans, calling out to the ducks, hugging some trees, you know the drill. 

Afterwards, we were both kind of tired so we decided to head back to the hotel and have a nap. So we turned on the tv and let it play in the background but it kept getting louder and louder and all Anisah remembers hearing is "YOU'RE TOO YOUNG TO BE HAVING SEX" and something about blood in salad. She was not half-dreaming, all this actually occurred on the show -- I know because I was fully awake. And then I turned off the tv so we could sleep. Next thing I know, Anisah's telling me I need to put my pyjamas on, like I was a small child falling asleep in my clothes. She actually said directly to me, all sleepily, 'Noor, you need to get your pyjamas on.' And then we looked at the clock. It was 1.30am. We definitely got into the bed around 9.30pm. So for the next half hour all we could do was exclaim how incredulous it was that it was 1.30am. Even when it was 2am we just kept saying, 'How is it 1.30?!' And then we got into our respective beds and went to sleep. We woke up from time to time to hear the drunken ramblings of Oxfordians outside. I swear someone was getting beat up too.

We woke up the next morning determined not to go fall asleep like losers at 9.30pm. But we were well-rested now so it wasn't as likely to happen. We started off the day with breakfast in the hotel and then scampered off to roam again. I really can't list all the places we visited because we literally went everywhere. High Street, Broad Street, Cornmarket, George St, St Aldate's, Parks Road.. There wasn't a piece of cobbled stone or concrete we left unwalked. 

We visited some more colleges -- Magdalen (the one I applied to) and Lincoln and Pembroke --  and walked all the way to the end of the bridge, watching the punters and laughing at the price. Because, essentially, that's what we'd be paying to fall into the dirty river and drown. Or get raped by swans.

By then it was way past the deadline for some G&D's so back to the other end of High St we went to enjoy some delightful Oxford Blue.

Then off we went to the University Parks to just sit and lounge around and do nothing because it was an absolutely gorgeous day. We wrote some postcards too and Anisah found a hot guy playing football shirtless infront of us to stalk. Obsessively stalk. I'm not even exaggerating. I have wayyyy to many pictures of this guy on my camera and I don't even know who he is. And then we saw a man with a giant green head and we didn't want him to offer us the juice for charity he was selling because we were a) frightened and b) likely to burst out laughing in his giant green face if he tried to talk to us.

After a while, we decided to head back to the hotel to drop some of our crap off and then head back out for a night of debauchery. In this time, I noticed the back of my legs were bright pink and sunburnt. Since I was wearing a dress, there was a perfect line cut a little above my knee and it looked like someone just took a paint roller and painted a single thick line on the back of my legs. Anisah found this absolutely hysterical. Le sigh.

So off we went back into the setting afternoon sun. We didn't do much, just walked around bits we hadn't visited before. We sat on some steps on Broad Street, we sat on some benches near some water near the club called the Bridge. There wasn't much to be doing, really. Oxford shuts down, as most English cities do, around 5pm. Then all the pubs get lively and rowdy and the brawls start happening. Once it was about 11.30 or so, we decided to head back since there wasn't anything else to do. Unfortunately, all the excitement of Oxford seemed to be concentrated on one single street, our hotel's street. Anisah and I have decided we are not fond of George St at night. We were walking by a pub where we saw a man lying face down on the sidewalk and another guy leaning over him and a police car came rushing up from behind us and stopped right next to us. We just kept shoving through the crowds, laughing in fear and at the ridiculousness of what was happening. 

As quickly as we could, we got safely into our hotel and went to bed. 

The next morning, we checked out and left our bags behind the bar before heading out to visit the science museum and Pitt Rivers, the crazy old historical artifacts museum. It was the first time Pitt Rivers was open since I'd last gone in 2006 so it was really awesome to see all the great exhibits again. They have shrunken heads! Afterwards, since they were close, we headed to the University Parks just to crash for a bit. Then Anisah wanted to get a giant cookie from Bonjour cafe (my preferred cafe for lunch runs) so we went there and got some food, roamed some more. We saw the Radcliffe Camera and St Mary's... 

... and then we decided we needed some G&Ds again but we wanted to go to the one where all the ice cream was made. So off we went in search of Little Clarendon Street where we found the original G&D's and had some more ice cream -- THEY HAD BANANARAMA which is my all time favourite flavour ever. everrrr. We had some good times. And then Anisah bought a t-shirt and confused the poor lady at the counter because we weren't asking for ice cream. 

Then we went to hang around in a square and went looking for the Ashmolean which was closed but had a small photo exhibity thing set up outside. And then we went to KFC for dinner because everywhere else was closed. Then around 6.15pm we set off to catch our 19.37 train back to Manchester. I'm pretty sure our coach mates hated us again because we played loud giggly games of MASH and I don't even know what and staged a hunting special on my hair and went through alllllll our pictures from the trip and were all around soaked in delirium. Which is how every train ride is meant to be.

It was the best weekend in Oxford since that summer in 2006. I love that city and forever will though I think I've had my fill for the next year or so. So now I can fill my weekend / day trips to other places like Liverpool or Edinburgh or wherever. It absolutely killed us walking around so much because we pretty much had been our feet since that Wednesday adventure ... and then we raved it up Thursday night ... and then did some nonstop walking for three days. I had an ache that started in my foot and then travelled up to my knee and eventually settled in my upper thigh that would reignite every morning, in protest, knowing I was going to torture it today. It was worth it, so so worth it. That weekend was perfect.

finally.

I am sitting at my desk chair, in my house, in Los Angeles, California and I could not be happier. Everything smells like home and last summer -- the soap, my bed, the couches, the heatwave wafting in through the windows. It's like I never left. 

It's a little weird to be back if only because my life runs on England time and now I can't watch the cricket matches (Pakistan for the win, whatwhat?) or sit and watch Arrested Development with Becca or whatever. So I've turned on BBC Radio 1 online except that it's the late night show which is all techno/trance/dance/electronic and I'll have to work out the times for the Chris Moyles / Scott Mills shows -- these are the shows I've been recommended to listen to by my English gurus. But anyways. 

Exams. Exams were alright. The first one, psychology, I sped through in 45 minutes out of 2 hours and I felt pretty confident about it. I had two weeks to study for it and it was all the same stuff I'd learned in AP Psych so that wasn't bad. Molecules to Cells was a little more difficult so I hope that went well. After that I had a day and a half to study for both my history and pharmacology exams. History went ... worse than expected and I don't have high expectations for it but whatever. Then Drugs: Molecules to Man, which I thought was going to be absolutely horrendous, was actually way way way easier than I expected. I don't know if that's a good sign that I was prepared or bad that I got everything entirely screwed up. Then last was Excitable Cells which was just alright. I hope I passed everything, ha. 

After exams, we neuroscientists met up for a small picnic and I did a lot of lounging around and not doing anything which was awesome. Then came the epic Wednesday (see below). Then on Thursday, Slems hosted a UV light party which was pretty dang fun and colourful and here are some blurry pictures stolen off someone's facebook:

see the super cool 80s sunglasses?

We left the partay not too late as we had to get some sleep before our grand adventure to Oxford the next day. Also, we had to say goodbye to Amina as she was leaving the next night so off went went back to Gabs, forcing ourselves into bed to pretend like we could get some decent sleep before the next morning...

busybusybusy

When I get home, you'll be hearing about exams, that epic Wednesday, a weekend in Oxford, packing, and going hommmmme! For now, I have errands to run.

wednesday

Today / yesterday / tonight was just epic. Too "knackered" or "shattered" (take your pick) to talk on and on now but be aware that it was epic in the smallest of ways and I enjoyed it. I'll update when my brain regains functionality. Also, exactly how I'm to pack allllll my crap into 8 boxes and 2 suitcases over the next few days is beyond me. I can't wait to get home. Goodnight.

----

Wednesday, in short, was a series of rushed events. I woke up early to go to a First Year Neuroscience Yearly Review meeting with our programme director, who I absolutely love now. He's just so cool and awesome and sweet and I wish he could be my tutor. But anyways. So there was that little fun meeting, during which my friend Bernard (of the student talent show fame) told me he was playing a small set at Fallowfest later that day. Fallowfest is usually a little festival concert type thing that goes down in the student hub of Manchester but had been cancelled that year for whatever reason (technicalities, security reasons, etc etc) but the students decided to hold one anyways. Instead of having it be a big gig of sorts, they just had a whole bunch of different people playing in different pubs all around Fallowfield. So Bernard was playing at Trof at 5pm and I told him I'll see what I can do.

Afterwards, I met up with Anisah to go on a long-planned shopping trip which turned into a complete fail. We hit every store we planned and came out with nothing. We were completely dead tired by the end of it and had nothing so show for it. We tried on jeans after jeans after jeans, practically peeling them off because THERE ARE NO JEANS IN MANCHESTER THAT FIT US / AREN'T SKINTIGHT. It was ridiculous and we were not impressed. The only thing I recall buying was a 98p pair of 80s sunglasses and black t-shirts from Primark for the UV party the next night. During this shopping trip, I told Anisah about Bernard's thing and we decided it would be a fun little adventure to go. So at 4.45pm we set off to Fallowfield, got there about 10 past 5, got off the bus only to realise we didn't actually know Fallowfield well at all and had no idea where Trof was. So I called a resident Fallowfielder and we eventually found our way to Trof, hesitated at the door, were encouraged by the sound of music trailing from upstairs and went in. We went up and Bernard was playing on the teeny stage with some girl so we wedged ourselves into a corner, only to turn around to hear Bernard say he's off, put down his guitar, and walk off stage. Seriously, our timing was amazing. So we left but as we were walking out, Bernard caught me for a hug and thanked for me coming. I'm still laughing that he thought I'd been there the whole time.

So, laughing at this sad turn of events, we made our way back to Gabs to quickly get ready for the Leavers' Dinner, the last formal dinner to say goodbye and all that. It was pretty crap, not gonna lie. We couldn't wait to get out and get ready for the last grand event of the night, the last Writing Society's open mic night. So we got ready and off we went, Anisah, Zhara, and I, to Sandbar for a little poetry and short stories. It was a really good low key night, not too many people were there as it was the last day of exams and most people were probably out somewhere getting pissed. But it was a good night. I said goodbye to my California friend (who yelled CALI FOR NEYE AYYYY both times I went up to read). I wrote my email on the back of his hand but he seemed pretty tipsy at that point and probably only went on to get drunker and therefore, I'm not surprised to have not heard from him at all. Ah, well. 

Then off we went, back to Gabs to collapse in our beds after our long, long day. It was just such a good day, spending the whole time with Anisah and walking around everywhere and getting lost and just having the whole day packed with things to do and places to see. It was a good runner up for what we expected for our weekend at Oxford, which was to be nothing short of amazing.

the ending

Today, my dad woke me up with a text and a phone call around noon my time. He was in the London Heathrow airport, having just arrived from LA and continuing onto a connection to Dubai. My dad's on his way to start a new job in Abu Dhabi (right next to Dubai), a move he'd been thinking about making for the last year or so but never thought would be realised so soon. But here we are. 

This is all kind of hush-hush but not so much in my head. He's moving out there for at least a year, after which, if he likes it, my mom and sister will follow. This summer, my family's going to Abu Dhabi for about five or six weeks to check it out and see what could possibly be our next home. I am quite thrilled about this move, having lived & loved living in the MidEast way back when. It'll be great to go back and feel so much closer to the rest of the world again.

And yet.

It's hitting me ever so slowly what this entails. Because as excited as I am for the end result of residing in the Middle East, I keep forgetting what it'll take in the inbetween before we get there. Not the stress of shipping of stuff or all that crap, but the fact that this move means leaving home more permanently than I did last autumn.

When it hit me that I'll never get the California autumn nights I've been craving these past few weeks or to feel the carefree air that always accompanies the change from spring to summer, that I'll never get a whole year of Home until after uni, it hit me that, now, in fact, I'll probably never get a whole year of Home ever. Ever.

And to top it off, I won't be there to cherish what could be my last year in SoCal. Everything is so up in the air now -- there's no concreteness in any thought I have for the next couple of years. It's disconcerting.

But with my dad already there, soon to be settled, I can't help drown myself in the thoughts of what won't be home anymore. While I have this summer with mostly my mom (my brother'll be in summer school in Irvine), I've already missed the chance for last minute Home times with my dad.

I've missed weekly trips to Trader Joe's, which usually include a stop into Starbucks where they always know his order. I've missed his enthusiastic nagging as he tries to turn me into a hardcore yogi. I've missed the car rides down winding La Cañada roads when he'd play NPR or something classical turned up a little higher than normal. Or sometimes we'd just talk about anything and everything with the radio dimly playing in the background. I've missed him sitting at the kitchen table as a makeshift office so that he could work around us instead of behind a closed office door. I've missed walking into the nearest Apple store simply because it's an Apple store and we like to play around with the iPhones. I've missed him waking me up by opening my blinds and telling me to stop being lazy. I've missed watching late night movies that he's seen and I've never heard of. I've missed trips to Whole Foods where he's always disappointed to find they're out of that thick chocolate gelato. I've missed his collection of daily vitamins sitting on the counter, the one I'd ask about, in awe that he could swallow that one that was practically bigger than my thumbnail. I've missed him asking if I want this oversized sweater because it's too small on him but it's big and warm and homey so of course I want it. I've missed his yelling at me to clean the litterbox because his office stinks and my cat just pooped in there. I've missed him asking me to burn CDs for him. I've missed the random appearance of jugs of apple juice and loaves of olive bread in the kitchen that he'll buy just because he knows how much I love both...

It sounds like a eulogy but that's kind of what it feels like. Not about my dad but just about the everyday living with my dad at home, you know? He'll be home for maybe 10 days while I'm in CA this summer. That's nothing. After that, mid-July, we're all off to visit him in Abu Dhabi. 

I don't really know what to make of it. It's bad enough that I won't get to live up my California days (if, indeed, they are so swiftly ending) but to realise that bits of it have already ended without my past-self even realising it... well, that just makes it ten times worse. 

I don't really know. Again, it hits me how far away I am from home.

I have an exam in ... 10 and 1/2 hours. This exam is going to be a bitch. But come 3pm today, I'm done. I have a feeling this next week and half is going to fly by a lot quicker than I expect. But with home glittering at the end, it probably won't go quickly enough.

almostdone

almostdonealmostdonealmostdonealmostdonealmostdonealmostdonealmostdonealmostdone

almostdonealmostdonealmostdonealmostdonealmostdonealmostdonealmostdonealmostdone

almostdonealmostdonealmostdonealmostdonealmostdonealmostdonealmostdonealmostdone

almostdonealmostdonealmostdonealmostdonealmostdonealmostdonealmostdonealmostdone

almostdonealmostdonealmostdonealmostdonealmostdonealmostdonealmostdonealmostdone

and twelve days.