A photo of my father and my mother on their wedding day.
My sister and I developed very different philosophies on life and the concept of “the future” after my father’s passing. A fairly obvious statement, surely. Everyone processes these game changers differently, but it seems my sister and I went in completely opposite directions. Read the rest of this entry »
I was 16 years old the first time I ever sunk my teeth into a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I was babysitting for my friend’s younger siblings (about three of them) at various ages of toddler-dom. Before she left to work, leaving the children in my charge, she gave me the run-down, the facts, the “if you do exactly as I say we shouldn’t have to deal with any meltdowns, breakdowns or disasters” list. I listened intently. I did exactly as I was told. Don’t fuck with the routine. Read the rest of this entry »
Oh memes. The source of so much whacky internet hilarity and oddities, and now there’s one for Arabs too! I always felt a tad guilty at my constant poking fun at my own culture, or really just illuminating how ridiculous my peoples can be. But, thanks to a couple of sites I have newly discovered I am now much relieved to know that there are others out there, just like myself, who find being an Arab a rather funny affair. Read the rest of this entry »
Photo by simplerich, via Flickr
The subject of today’s post, and what I’m sure is a more-common-than-I-expect writer’s conundrum, is: How much of your family’s dirty laundry can you air (read: turn into a novel, a book of short stories, or a screenplay) before it is seen as tasteless exploitation and/or potentially damaging to members of your clan and your relationships with them? Are there stories you really can’t tell? Read the rest of this entry »
