Another year has gone by

Its been over a year since I moved here, summer has come and gone and now fall is here. The temperatures have been all over the place. I have gotten used to the summer warmth and I am not sure if I am ready for the cold again. I got some new kicks almost a year ago and it definitely helps so that I am not slipping all over the place. But waking up ice cold and having to get running right away is still not easy. There will be snow all over the place and I will have to sit in it until the storms are over.
I should probably get a nice shower before the fall is over and winter starts, cause once it starts to snow it will be slushy and dirty and not worth getting a shower until the end of the season. I have met a lot of new people this year, and have been giving them a ride all over the place. I need to toss out the old parking receipts, tickets, empty bottles and winter sweaters. I cant get the sand out of pockets from the days in Acadia and Good Harbor.
My new friends include a grey Toyota SUV called Gia and a Subaru named Martin. I am Amelia a 2012 red mini Cooper.
Remember Oct -4 is national name your car day!

What’s in a name

Next time you are in Beirut look out for the name of the different neighborhoods and streets. You maybe in a rush and will just memorize the landmark long enough to convey it to your taxi driver. Take the time and pay attention to the names of the places, Sin el Fil which means the Elphant’s tooth, El Bourej which means the bridge. There is the Cola intersection so named for the old Coca Cola factory that is now nowhere to be found. The corniche is what people will call the bord du mer boulevard that is full of fishermen, runners and swimmers, but the official name of the Street is JFK. There are a lot of official names for these places and things but the local nickname is how people recognize these places. This could not be more true when it comes to food in the Lebanese cuisine.
Lebanese dishes tend to have a playful name that does not describe the food in an which way. Have you ever had Baba Ghannouj, a dish made of smokey roasted eggplants with sesame paste. If you were to name it by what it is made of it would be btenjan be tahini, which means eggplant and tahini paste. The name everyone uses is Baba Ghannouj, which means dad spoiled girl. Another example is Dawod Basha, can you guess what type of dish this is? It is a tomato stew with meat balls that is served with white rice and vermicelli. The dish is named after Pasha David. Now if this dish is served with diced potatoes, the name become Dawod Basha w 3asakro, wish means Pasha David and his infantry, clearly very descriptive of the dish.
Our cuisine is rich in its varieties of Mahashe/Mehse, stuffed vegetable stews, from stuffed grape leaves to zucchinis to green peppers and tomatoes. However when you want to distinguish between these stuffed dished and the eggplant you refer to it as Sheikh el Mehse. This means the king of sheikh of all the Mehshe. A popular fish dish server over spiced rice is called Sayadeyeh, which means fisherman; at least this one makes sense. Other dishes such as raheb, which means monk does not make as much sense. It is basically describing dishes that become popular when they are consumed during lent. One of my favorite dishes is Moughrabieh, which literally means the Moroccan, actually Morocco in arabic is Maghreb which means the location where the sunsets. So this dish of CousCous is really named the one where the sunsets. The dish is these big couscous pearls that are severed with onions, chicken and a gravy type of sauce.
Deserts are the same way they have playful names that I am sure some cheery pastry chef invented when he created these sweets. Have you ever had lady fingers, it is a type of baklava that looks like the fingers of a pretty lady. How about Basma? The name means fingerprint, but this is a square baklava filled with almonds and soaked in syrup. My favorite baklava variety is the Kol w Shkor, which means eat and be thankful, these are tiny square puffs of baklava that melt in your mouth; I guess they are so good you need to be thankful after each bite. Turkish Delights, you must have tried these, well in Lebanese they are called Rahet el Halkoum, throat comfort, I know it sounds more like a cough drop.
Again the arabic language and specifically the Lebanese dialect is full of these playful nicknames for places, dishes and deserts. This reflects the attitude of the people more than anything. Next time you are having breakfast lunch or dinner with Lebanese ask them for the arabic name and insist on getting the literal translation you will be pleasantly amused.

The story of a 1000 wears and tears

Its stuffy in here, they packed us all up in this boxes and told us we were headed somewhere better than where we wear. The smell is overpowering, the smell of the cologne they spray us with. The belief is that this cologne or spray or whatever concoction they drown us in will help our skin look better, live longer and most importantly defend us from water. I loose track of time in this dark box, behind me is angus and in-front of me is abondance. We make small talk throughout the whole trip. Angus says he grew up in a place that was always wet, it never stop raining but the rolling hills were the prettiest in the world. Abondance doesn’t really talk much, i think she thinks she better from us.
When we finally stop moving they pull us out of these dark boxes and put us up on these metal racks in this shiny and bright room. All around are other folks like us, different colors sizes and shapes. It is so bright all the time and everything glimmers off the ground and the walls. Everyone in a while one of these humans comes in and leafs through us and maybe pulls us out and if we are lucky tries us on. I am hoping I get adopted by some cool dude who has a bike so I can see the world. Days pass, weeks pass and no one picks me up or tries me on, but I know that one day it will happen.
Finally one day this young teenager walks past me and then steps back and looks at me. He grabs my arbs and holds them out, he check my tag, probably checking the size. He then walks away. A few minutes later he is back and directly takes me off the rack and swings me around his back to try me on. He zips me up all the way and snaps the collar button. He walks over to the full size mirror and looks at us in the mirror, he puts his hands in the pockets and stands there for a good 10 seconds. Then it is back to the rack, where he hangs me up and walks away. I thought it was my lucky day, but maybe I will get someone cooler. A few minutes later this dude is back he grabs the arms and is showing them to someone. But again the walk away. I guess i was too hopefully that someone who would try me on would adopt me immediately.
A few days pass as I slowly work my way to the back of the rack. On a random day late into the evening before the lights go off I can feel the whole rack shake. Someone is frantically searching through the rack for a size, it is the dude from the other day, he sees me and snags me off the rack and onto his shoulder I go as he charged towards the exit. They take my plastic tag off and it is official I have been adopted. We walk outside and the dude pulls me out and swings me around his back. The next few days are all the same, every-time the wind comes out or the rain starts we make it out together.
But life is not all happy days in the wind and sun, I spend a lot of time hung up on the backs of chairs, doors and stools. One day I was even attacked. My owner took me with him to school where he left me on the back of his for hours on end. The chair was coarse and cold it was the most uncomfortable thing ever. But then one day one of his other human friends decides to attack me and he left a blue scar on my back. When my owner found out he was so upset, he kept rubbing the scar with water. He has these blue sticks as well but does not know how to erase the scars. After this scar my owner left me in the closet for months, although he was ashamed to take me out with the scar, whenever he did wear me, it was impolitely. He pulled the pockets so hard that one day one of them starts to rip.
I write this after many years of adoption by my human. Despite my scars and my rough handling I have grown into a weathered and bruised leather jacket. My owner i know has grown to like me despite my flaws, my pockets are filled with bus tickets and food reciepts from around the world as momentos of our travels together. I look forward to another 14 years together.
–This story is an attempt to tell the story of my camel colored leather jacket that I have owned from my last year of high school. I always wanted a leather jacket and this was it, I though I had ruined it with the rain, ripped it by accident, had my friend scribble with ink on it, but it has become my weather jacket. If it has a personality I think it would tell the story this way.

You can go with this or you can go with that..the choice is yours

How many decisions do you make on average every day ? Maybe ten or twenty choices how about hundreds. Whats fkr lunch, what should I work on first, should I go to the gym or should I lounge on the couch ? Those seem like choices you will have to make, what about what color socks I should wear or should I use the restroom now or hold it for later. Do you decide whether to itch your foot or tap your toes? These are all choices it’s just some of them we are aware of and will debate before we decide. Others our brain does for us. It’s a self defense mechanism right? If you had to think about the hot surface you just touched you would burn yourself then you would not pull your hand back immediately. And if you did have all these choices presented to you it would overwhelm your brain. But what I am interested in is the choices you actively make.
The last time you were at a restaurant how long did it take you to decide on a dish to eat? Are you the type that always gets the same dish so you won’t be disappointed. Or do you take the risk to try something new that could be bad or could be great? You could also not make a decision and then end up choosing something someone else got or modifing the dish so much till it matches something you like ? A tuna melt , hold the tuna add turkey and no cheese ! I like to think I am great at ordering food, you’re in Colorado maybe don’t the oysters but a burger may be good. It’s Chinese place so maybe don’t get the steak. You know standard rules like that.
Sometimes having too many choices can leave you even more unhappy. Some people say that’s why apple was very successful. You can choose between three different Mac computers and three trim levels. Where as a PC you have 20 different makes and can customize each one in a million different ways. So you walk away thinking or rethinking what you could have done instead ? When I applied to grad school I applied to three A schools and three B school I was thrilled I got into all 6 but I could not decide. Even when I did I was hesitant because I was not sure I made the right choice. Other people who had one choice were happier ?
This is not only a preference or a happiness thing but affects your life. If you’re on the highway and you need to take an exit to I-10 west. If there are two seperate exits you could miss the exit or take the wrong one. But what if it was one exit for both east and west and then after the exit forks you then make your choice of east vs west? Now you’ve split the choices you have to make and simplified and less people are likely to miss their exit. And I think this should be a morale for life, simplify the decisions you have to make and reserve the brain power for the questions that really matter and need the focus. It makes sense that Steve Jobs wore the same thing every day , one less choice to make.

I want to be like you

You know the old adage that goes ‘Dont judge a book by it’s cover’ .. Don’t! Well it’s too late youve judge this piece by the title I gave it. You either thought dont strive to be like someone else or if you know me then you expected some twist. Well sadly I think we all judge books, cafes, restaurant and a whole bunch of things based on their name, title cover or outer appearance. My philosophy and this is only me speaking, is to not act on the first impression despite the subconscious. But if you are going to write a book or a open a cafe choose the cover and the name careful because it will make a difference.

I was recently on vacation in France and I noticed something about the names of stores and cafes. Two workers walked past me with shirts that read REMOVE in the back and below it said they offered plumbing and electrical services. I know they are alluding to the fact that they can unclog showers and toilets but why use an English name for a French service in France? Does it instill more confident to have an American plumbing service? Or another example is an underwear store called Undiz, but the French are know for fashion and clothing why name the store an English name. Then there are restaurants like the Indiana that offers Tex Mex, I guess this is supposed to make the place sound more authentic. Don’t get me wrong they can have great food. However if I am in Paris I would not step foot in a place called New York Cafe, why would I get on a flight to Paris to go get a bagel from a placed called New York Cafe. It defeats the point, besides you’ll get better service and quality if you go for something local. Maybe this New York Cafe is for New Yorkers who want a taste of home? Then why do I see so many tourists in there?
This exists everywhere not just in France but in Lebanon and in the US where I’m from. They will have a cafe Brussels and cafe Beirut for those who want some exotic fares in Boston. I just think the name needs to be a bit more authentic. I’m a sucker for smart names and witty titles. My favorite coffee shop in Berkeley was called the stomping grounds. My friend always recommends the human bean. I also sometimes went to brewed awakening. But not all shop names need to be smart they can be authentic too. The name of the chef, like Chez Ramzi or the name of the area like Francis La Butte for la Butte du Sacre Coeur. I think it instills more authenticity when the name speaks for a place that provides handmade and catered service. There is a time and place for fast food and reliable service and then the name is less important.
Maybe I’m too picky or I over think these small details but I think they do make a difference.

My Grandpa’s Relics

Its really early but I’m up and ready to go. John and I decided Thursday would be the best day to go. Before all the grow ups get up. Wednesday night is remembrance night and everyone is dazed the next morning. Early morning the next day is the best chance to not get noticed. Blue pants with the red patches, a long sleeve jumper with the pockets all over and I’m ready to go. I lace my sandals I don’t want to take my boots they may get ruined and I need to save them. It took Dad 6 months of find two boots that were the same size and with holes he could patch. I put my ‘ball cap’ on it has a big B on it. Mom gave it to me she said when she grew up as a kid everyone had a ball cap and they would wear it to baseball games. I can’t imagine what the game is like but mom gets teary every time she tells me about it. It would be nice to go to one of those games.
It’s quiet out and the smog is still heavy with the wind picking up. John is supposed to meet me at the old rubble pile in our quadrant. I hide behind one of big pieces of chipped concrete waiting for him. I adjust my ball cap it’s ripped in several locations but it still fits. ‘Psttt… Pssst.’ The must be John. I peak over the concrete and hes peering out from behind some old tires. John loves to wear old army clothes and he’s wearing a green fatigue ensemble today. The jacket is too big, the pants are roped around his waist so they don’t slide down. And his shoes are 3 sizes too big. He has his wooden walking stick and most importantly his grin from ear to ear. We both walk towards each other and silently nod as we check over our shoulders, to make sure no one is following.
The walk to the site is long but we don’t mind. It’s up the hill outside the quadrant and then up the relics seat. Well that’s what grandpa calls it. As soon as we are safely out of town john starts chatting. ‘You know I almost told Sara to come with us, but I wasn’t sure she would approve. She would definitely keep it a secret.’ I think he really likes Sara so I tease him a ton ‘Sooooo first thing you do this morning is bring up Sara, things must be going well.’ I can tell he’s flustered ‘Bro she’s the one interested the other day she brought me baked goods, said she had extra at home…. Sureeee. The whole world ended and we ration everything but we are making extra food.’
Suddenly we both go quiet, it’s because we can see the top of the hill. I’ve never seen it before and it looks so pretty. There are these trees that look green and so fragile. I’ve only heard stories about them and they never let us visit. I start to run up the hill and John is following me. He’s slow because he has to keep pulling up his oversized fatigues. The trees are so big and I can’t help but touch them. The surface is bumpy and cracked. ‘Steve … Steve… ‘ John is calling over. I’m annoyed that he’s disturbing this moment. I turn around and John is standing with his mouth agape, and I can see why. Past him are these huge red and green metal relics. They are huge as tall as the trees. There is writing all over them, but I can’t understand it.

I hear you loud and clear

Have you noticed that Google has a new feature to emails ? After you receive an email from someone it gives you options at the bottom. The options include ‘thats awesome’, ‘thanks for sharing’ or ‘thats great thank you.’ How does it give you these options ? It surely must read your email. Well not read that takes time but scan the email for key words. If someone’s is telling you a story they give a generic response. It looks for sad words and offers a sorry perhaps. Well that’s neither there nor here. My beef is with the option itself. Have we become so lazy that we need a one button reply option? Surely if someone is sharing something or telling you something they will expect some type of response beyond a one liner. Maybe were so busy in this day and age we don’t have the time to interact.

I was a business dinner this past weekend and we were discussing how conversations and interactions have become difficult. We were having dinner in the wine cave of this bistro in Memphis. Our hosts were being extra talkative and trying to make us comfortable. My boss from East Boston is seated beside me. The host is talking about how phones are making it more difficult for kids to have face to face conversations. My boss turns to me and quips “Ha, I could talk to a wall.” I grin and respond ‘Yes you can’ She looks confused and then turns to me and says ‘So can you’ She is absolutely right.
Our host meanwhile is asking ‘How do you get kids to interact and communicate.’ I raise my hand to answer ‘You make them travel some where they don’t speak the language!’ Don’t you agree ? If you go to Japan and don’t speak the language you will have to talk to people in sign language and broken english and japanese to find stuff. THEN will probably befriend other tourists who you can understand or are having the same problem. Trust me I speak 4 languages but I still struggle in places and it’s not comfortable, but that’s the point. It’s a struggle at first but rewarding to connect. Some place we don’t speak the language doesn’t just mean the literal language but also environments where you don’t understand their customs, mannerisms etiquette. As an engineer I like to immerse myself in groups in pharmacy or medicine so I can learn to talk to other creatures.
My physics teacher in school used to scold us, he would say ‘Youre listening to speak not to understand.’ I didn’t think much of it during highschool but now I realize it’s true. It’s not all malicious, this behavior that is. A lot of times were waiting to share our experience and don’t listen to what people have to say. But the extra step of really listening, actively listening, comprehending and processing what’s being said is important. It keeps us from misunderstanding each other and helps us really connect. Try this next time you meet someone new. Ask them something about themselves and listen to what they have to say and then ask follow up questions. I promise you won’t regret it.

Nothing but a dull pebble

It’s cold these days and it’s windy. I guess it’s fine if it’s cold but the wind is the worst. Whenever it’s really cold we spend our days huddled together to keep warm. I hate it when we huddle together, I like warmth but some of our guys are weird. Every time the Chief calls for a cold huddle Jasper comes running over to huddle beside me. He knows that Johnny and I are serious, I guess he must really like me. Sometimes Bob joins him and he smells. I dunno if he doesn’t swim or what but it smells like he’s been on land for an eternity.

This morning all the guys went diving for fish. In our penguin community we take turns catching lunch. So Johnny is away catching some silver fish to eat. I want to go talk to Sandy but she’s been annoying lately. All she wants to talk about is her stupid pebble, it’s not even that big. Ever since Steve gave her that rocks she’s been a different person. I guess she’s right to be happy. It’s a big deal in penguin culture this pebble giving. It means that the guy promises he’s choosen one peguin that will be with him until they both die. Honestly I’m just jealous that Johnny hasn’t given me a pebble. I hope he does ! Maybe he’s thinking of someone else. I can see Sandy from here touching the pebble with her flippers and then her feet. I’ve even seen her sit on it like it’s an egg or a baby!
Instead I go to the ice cliff and wait for Johnny and the guys to come back. I can see them jumping out of the water onto the ice, they are all giddy and happy. Looks like all the guys are running around and messing with Johnny. I wonder what he did today, hes always trying to do something out there. Swim up close to a dolphin or a whale or shake flippers with a two legged land being on their big wooden floaters. Sometimes its the fish he goes for, I prefer to eat fish but not ones that are my size. They are coming up the ramp and I am sure we will know soon what’s up.
The guys seem crazy today, more than usually. They are almost at the top, I should probably walk over to meet them. The rest of the girls have also heard the flapping and noise and they are walking over as well. We are all intrigued by what is happening. I can see John clearly now. He has always looked very sharp after a day out diving. His black and white marks are sharp, brightly contrasting against each other. Around his neck there is a small black mark shaped like two pebbles adjoined. The guys are all jumping around him, wait it looks like he has something in his beak. A fish? No, why would he do that I just ate a few hours ago. Wait, could it really be? Johnny is right there in front of me, he lowers his beak and reveals a small dull pebble. He leaves it right in front of me and looks up at me. I love it! Its the prettiest and biggest pebble I have ever seen. Sandy calls over to me with her flappers flapping “Welcome to the club, you’re now engaged!”

(This lovely collaboration was made possible with illustrations by the talented Leila Charafeddine. For more of her work check her out on Instagram and Tumblr @leilach2491 https://leilach2491.tumblr.com/)

My name is Amelie

(Illustrations provided by handletteredbylama for more of her work check her Instagram account @handletteredbylama
My name is Amelie, I am originally from England but I was raised in Germany. I still look very British. People mistake me for french because of my name and because of the way I look. I would be what you call a petite lady, I have short black hair and my favorite outfit is a short red dress with a short skirt.
I enjoy long trips along windy roads in between the mountains and the trees. I can’t keep the company of many people but that is fine by me. My family is still back in Germany but the extended family is spread out around the world. People tease me for my accent, I call it a boot and others call it a trunk, here in american they call it the hood but back home its called the bonnet.
My home in the US is Texas, I have been as far out west as San Antonio and Austin, I have actually spend countless weekends in Austin. Houston is my home but I have been as far east as New Orleans Louisiana. In the morning I listen to Audio book or to country music CDs, sometimes the radio.
Recently I just moved to Boston, Massachusetts, I am very excited to explore all these new places, people here are more my size which makes me happy but the roads are horrible and super bumpy. I am excited to get new sneakers I hear you need some bigger kicks for the snow.
My name is Amelie and I am a 2012 Mini Cooper, have 3 doors and an automatic transmition.
– Remember today is national name your car day, so if your car doesn’t have a name make sure to give him or here one.

(This was written on Oct 2nd, which is actually National Name your car day)