where my heart is.

I sometimes think the amount of excitement that builds up inside me before going home to visit my darling parents is worth the 1,663,300 feet¹ that separate us.

Items on the weekend's agenda include,

1. hanging out with this little guy:

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.

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2. accompanying my dad on [at least one of] his early morning jogs throughout Red Rock Canyon and taking in every glorious ray of desert sunshine in my sleepy stupor

3. convincing my mom to bake me something special, for being special :D

4. going to Tutti Bella with Faraz and self-serving myself a big ol' cup of frozen goodness topped with every kind of berry you can imagine (note: my eyes are much, much bigger than my stomach)

5. [insert something to do with Elham and Natasha here]

6. sitting in my pajamas in the backyard, watching Toby try to dip his little head (approximately the size of a door knob) into the pond in attempts to capture all the fishies, thereby fulfilling his purpose in life

7. presenting my pathetic excuse for a knitted blanket to my mom, and having her help undo all my blunders (i.e. dropped stitches, random holes, strings hanging loose, crooked edges, stop judging me, it's a mess, I know)

8. taking a leisurely afternoon nap in my room, and waking up to feel Toby's warm little 2.5 lb body curled up next to me under the covers

9. walking into my favorite coffee shop and knowing I don't have to tell them my order (despite the fact that I haven't been there in ages) because yes, they're that good

10. Okay, I'm letting my excitement (and imagination) really get ahead of me here. Besides, I gotta go!

Final thought: Home is so where my heart is.

Oh, and this time, I promise not to stop in Barstow to purchase any more sea turtles to bring home as "surprise visitors." I thought they were legal, okay?!

¹ 315 miles too many.

testing, testing..

So, after sitting back and watching a number of months pass, thoroughly neglecting this once highly anticipated addition to my life, I've decided it's about time I begin taking my blogging responsibilities seriously and actually publish a post. I refuse to let this turn into another project that I start, and so characteristically, fail to finish. It's funny. Despite the fact that I have yet to make any sort of contribution to the site, I always find myself randomly checking on it, out of curiosity. Like the times when I was young and I'd plant an assortment of seeds in those flimsy transparent plastic cups, never taking the time out to actually water the soil or expose the poor botanical project to any rays of sunlight, but casually peering at them on occasion, wondering if magically, maybe, something had appeared on it's own since the last time I walked by.

Alas, just as my plastic cups remained sitting with soil, no sprouting seedlings in sight, this blog has also remained barren. Waiting to be watered.

So, here goes.

As most things do, I'm sure this literary experiment will evolve organically, shaping into something that, at the very least, will serve as an notepad to relay the activities of the day, and at most, an opportunity to share my reflections on the world that surrounds me.

And as far as those seeds were concerned, all that grew into fruition from that endeavor was a line of cups filled with dirt along my windowsill.


Before I bid this particular post adieu and slip into bed, I should mention a few things:

• Toby has managed to memorize my mother's daily schedule, and has masterfully begun to hide behind large pieces of furniture in attempts to avoid being placed in his cubby area in the laundry room. And despite the amount of time and energy spent trying to squeeze herself into these narrow, unwelcoming spaces between her, Toby, and this protective furniture, my mom absolutely adores this new learned behavior. And in turn, I adore them, in all their silly glory.

• Is it just me or is it ridiculously difficult to eat a.) healthy b.) for one and c.) economically nowadays? I've exerted so much effort trying to reconstruct my dietary lifestyle, and sometimes, it just seems hopelessly impossible. I'm trying to construct my meals from all raw materials (i.e. not buying pre-made, packaged, ready products, as they generally offer nothing but empty calories, partially hydrogenated oils, and more sodium than I can bare). Do people actually have it in them to cook for themselves every day? If so, where do they find the time? And putting the time factor aside, for those who can't stand leftovers, doesn't it seem like a waste of energy putting all that much time into one measly dish, that's sure to disappear after x number of minutes? I guess I'm just a bit held back (and bitter) in my culinary efforts because of my current living situation and the associated discomfort in operating in someone else's kitchen. Three more months, I keep telling myself.

• And finally, I was left completely heartbroken when hearing the news about the six friends in Iran who were arrested early yesterday morning. Although I have nothing but deep-rooted hope and assurance in my heart that Bahá'u'lláh will fill these souls and their respective families with all the strength and fortitude necessary to live through this, I can't help but wonder at the amount of fear and sorrow that must currently exist in the lives of those affected. I know this has left powerful, penetrating ripples in the Bahá'í community, and as a result, will provide the impetus for action, and more specifically, for justice. I just can't help but feel so deeply shaken.

Sleep beckons. I must answer.

roza