Just-talking-out-loud

Despite all my effort and persistence, I have come to accept that I am living in a world that there is no place for kind hearts.

I have written three over due emails today. I had been feeling very guilty for postponing them. I didn’t want for my friends to think I didn’t care for them. It feels so good now. I still have several more emails to write. Also, I need to send a wedding gift to another friend.

Who on earth has an office hours from 9 to 11 pm?! This is freaky and inconsiderate!

If you like food, you might want to check out this website . This is a treasure.

         has become one of my favourite shows recently.

When I started reading "Laughing Without an Accent", I felt that this book is not as strong as the first one, Funny in Farsi. As I continue reading more, I realized that Firoozeh Dumas is truly a gifted author and this book is as good as the first one she wrote. Below is a paragraph from her book.  "In prerevolutionary Iran, every student had to memorize at least one of the poems of the beloved Saadi, a poet from the 13 century. One of Saadi’s most famous poems, about shared humanity, is carved in the entrance of the Hall of Nations in the United Nations building in New York. When a poem from the strife-filled 13 century is equally relevant in the strife-filled twenty-first century, one wonders if we really are as gifted a species as we think we are. Sure, we’ve invented huge metal objects that can fly, or sit on runways for hours, and yes, doctors can give one person’s still beating heart to another, and we have endless products to make straight hair curly and curly ha...

"Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday." from here p.s. One good thing about being a kid is that you are capable of simplifying any complex concept including love. I wish we could retain this as we became grown ups.

Two Homes, One Wolf                                        ~ David Albahari

An opportunity has to pay for itself. If someone argues that you need to miss THIS and loss THAT to gain what comes with the opportunity, that is not really an opportunity.

Crazy world, full of crazy contradictions like a child; First you drive me wild and then you win my heart with your wicked art; One minute tender, gentle, Then temperamental as a summer storm. Just when I believe your heart's getting warmer You're cold and you're cruel and I like a fool try to cope, Try to hang on to hope. Crazy world, every day the same old roller coaster ride; But I've got my pride I won't give in Even though I know I'll never win; Oh, how I love this crazy world.

Photo by Jean Michel Berts The world of photography fascinates me [this reminds me that I didn’t take any pictures this spring. There is a stand alone apple tree right in the middle of the hill on campus. It was so beautiful this spring when it was in full bloom]. Recently, I discovered Jean Michel Berts who is a French photographer. So far, anything I have seen from him was in back and white. His photos are very powerful. He has his own special way, working with light. The photo above is one of his works. I love it. Not only because I think I could I never afford to stay in a room with this view, but there is something about this picture and about this room. Here, it is Paris , a busy city, and yet provides you with serenity and seclusion.  I close my eyes and imagine myself in Paris standing below Eiffel Tower in spring time.

I went to a blood clinic today to donate blood. I have O positive blood type and that makes me almost a universal donor. As a result, I am very attractive for Canadian Blood Services. Once in a while, I receive phone call invitations asking me whether I am available to come to one of their mobile blood clinic for blood donation (i.e. I am sure all of their donors receive those phone calls to be honest).   I have donated blood many times now. I'm not a frequent donor unfortunately but if I get a chance, I'll do it. I have never had any problems before but today was a bit different. I was feeling fine the whole time until the nurse came to stop the blood drawing. The only thing I could tell her was that I was feeling dizzy and that was it. I passed out. It was more like a short nap. When I opened my eyes, it took me 5 sec to remember where I was and there it was, ice cold clothes on my forehead, my neck, and my hands.  That was my day. How was yours like? 

That's it. I'm done with all my stupid thoughts and grieving. I'm done wondering why my life is not progressing the way I envision it. I'll stop being my worst critic. I must avoid going toward things that are not in my best interest. Whatever is going inside this head needs to be filtered but you shouldn't give up. I just need to work harder and try to be happier. I need to stop wasting my energy; I do NOT want to faint. The race is long and no one said life would be easy.

Cheery Blossoms, Toronto, High Park, April 2010 All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That's his. Inspirational Quotes on Mothers Day by: Oscar Wilde

I'm finding many gray hair lately.

“As you see, within our bodies each of us has the elements needed to produce phosphorus. And let me tell you something I’ve never told a soul. My grandmother had a very interesting theory; she said that each of us is born with a box of matches inside us but we can’t strike them all by ourselves; …, we need oxygen and a candle to help. In this case, the oxygen, for example, would come from the breath of the person you love; the candle could be any kind of food, music, caress, love, or sound that engenders the explosion that lights one of the matches. For a moment we are dazzled by an intense emotion. Pleasant warmth grows within us, fading slowly as time goes by, until a new explosion comes along to revive it. Each person has to discover what will set off those explosions in order to live, since the combustion that occurs when one of them is ignited is what nourishes the soul. That fire, in short, is its food. If one doesn’t find out in time what will set off those explosions, the box o...