Snow Outing

Dear Peanut,

Someday, when you are grown, I will tell you stories about how I pushed your stroller five miles uphill in several feet of snow to take you to daycare.

In reality, it was only a half mile and a half inch, but boy, was it a doozy of a walk.  Still, seeing you bundled up with oversized mittens, hearing your sweet singing as we slipped and slid down Main Street, and imagining what you might be thinking about the buckets of white stuff falling from the sky, I couldn't help but feel lucky to experience an urban winter wonderland with you.

Love,
Your Mama

super tuesday

it took me a full two minutes to figure out how to use the antiquated voting machine in my district. i pulled the red bar to the right - like a slot machine - and looked up at the green board. the only name i could see was "hillary clinton." i was paralyzed. i looked around through the gaps in the curtain that didn't quite close behind me. the room was filled entirely with people of color. i thought about the 15th amendment. and the 19th amendment. i wondered if they were voting democrat.

i took a deep breath, and looked again, trying to interpret the words on the board. hillary clinton. john edwards. (john edwards? i thought. there go the votes. this system is so f-ed up.) i continued to scan. barack obama. i found the directions, printed in tiny, capitalized, bureaucratic-looking letters: CHOOSE ONE CANDIDATE FOR PRESIDENT.

unexpectedly, a little shiver of excitement ran through my body. as cynical as i am, as tired as i am, my body still recognized the historical significance of the moment. i flipped the lever for my presidential candidate, as well for as seven other people running for various positions for which i did not know the relevance or meaning. i pushed the red bar to the left, and walked out of the booth.

i looked around and paused, as if waiting for something to happen. nothing did. i walked home. i thought: whether or not it mattered, whether or not it made a difference, whether or not it was counted, i voted. me. a queer muslim female POC.

wouldn't the ancestors be proud.

august 29

since i was young, i have possessed a knack for remembering random dates in my life history, from the birthday of my best friend in 3rd grade (october 24), to the day i got my first period (november 11). there's the day i graduated high school (june 4), the day i experienced my first slow dance (december 5... to chris de burgh's "lady in red") and the day my classmate's mother passed away when i was fourteen (october 4).

while i don't necessarily celebrate the anniversaries of these dates in any particular way (i don't quite feel the need to mark my 16th year of menstruation in 2007), i do recognize them as conscious memories in my body. they are reference points by which i measure the time passing in my life.

so it was surprising that this year, it was only through a funny turn of events (and by "funny," i mean "gluttonous"), that i remembered the significance of august 29. what a meaningful day it is...

2005

to mark the start of graduate school, 30 incoming students were offered the opportunity to take a bus tour of the city of detroit. i, being an orientation fanatic, eagerly joined the group.

as i boarded the bus, i observed the characters before me. an enthusiastic white girl with red corn rows. a joke-cracking black boy. a shy tall desi boy with a mustache. an animated california-blond girl. a charming latino boy with an eyebrow piercing... wearing a button-down shirt... with the sleeves rolled up... he was too cool for me. i proceeded to avoid him for the next 8 hours.

at 4:30 p.m., the charming latino boy approached me with his arms across his chest. he introduced himself, standing just a little too close for comfort. he asked me, with piercing eyes, "what's your name? where are you from?" i took a step back, stammering, "um, well, err... i'm from new york." "let's go to new york together!" he exclaimed. he stepped back, looking surprised at his own forwardness. "i mean, you know, a bunch of us could go, like a road trip... you know, after we know each other better..."

much to my relief, we were saved from the awkward moment by a group of students discussing where we should go for dinner. we eventually went to the new york pizza depot in ann arbor. while we munched on our fresh-from-the-oven slices, the latino boy smiled at me from across the table. i smiled back, excited about what the future beheld for each of our lives.

2007

it was a typical weekday. i woke up, went to work, and met up with the latino boy - now my partner - for dinner at a hip thai restaurant in town. since it was a breezy, comfortable summer evening, we decided it would be nice to take a walk together over the brooklyn bridge.
we walked for hours from manhattan to brooklyn under the bright full moon, sharing stories, the skyscrapers twinkling in the distance. at 11:00 p.m., we found ourselves standing in front of grimaldi's, a famous pizza joint under the bridge.

"let's get pizza!" s exclaimed. i hesitated; after all, we had already eaten dinner, and it was nearly bedtime. but the thrill of spontaneity won me over. we walked in, sat down, and ordered our second dinner of the evening - a large cheese pizza. s smiled at me, excitedly, from across the table. and then i felt it - the familiar "anniversary jolt."

eating pizza together... on august 29... but this time, in new york! we were unconsciously recreating the moment that had brought us together exactly two years ago. living out our destiny of sharing mozzerella cheese and tomato sauce on a deliciously thin crust in the greatest city in the world. 

now THAT was a moment worth celebrating :)