RANDA JARRAR

One of the funniest things about Mother’s Day is that children are the most self-involved, clueless creatures on the planet, so they really can’t be relied on for great Mother’s Day presents. Or even cards. My son’s version of a Mother’s Day gift was coming up to me first thing in the morning, tapping my belly, and saying, “Happy belly day.” Now, moms who live with adults tend to get presents and cards, because adults have access to cars. I did not get presents, but I did get to go to brunch with Erika and her family, and later I had msakhan* at Selina’s, which was a pretty damn fine Mother’s night feast.

*This recipe calls for 2 tablespoons of olive oil–hilarious! I think they mean 2 liters (Selina–you rock my world!).

I stayed up until 2 am this morning writing some extra scenes into my novel after I realized that my narrator doesn’t swim at all in the second part of the book, which just isn’t right. I put in some whimsical stuff about seeing Heraklion, the submerged city that was discovered in Alexandria’s shores a few years ago, and where Helen is said to have escaped from Menelaos.

This morning I woke up and went to read El-Ahram and found out that there’s a new exhibit of the sunken treasures going on in Germany this week. Collective consciousness indeed. It was bizarre, and I love bizarre…and not just ’cause I’m part Egyptian & Greek.

Colm Toibin has a great piece on Borges over at the London Review of Books, exploring his writing, his overbearing mother, and his love life. I’m reading The Aleph right now– completely in love with it.

I like to take credit for a lot of things. And I will now take credit for getting these two together. Erika is shy and reticent, and I forced her, in 2005, to come out to a New Year’s Eve party with me. The person I was seeing at the time met us there, which was weird since Erika was solo, and in my whole friendship with her she had always been the one with the partner and I had always been solo. Anyway, I saw a hottie hot guy in the near distance and pointed him out to Erika. Me: “Go talk to him!” She: “No!” This went on about a dozen times until she went over eventually. Almost a year and a half later, they are married.

The person I was dating? We broke up a long long time ago.
And I’ve been single ever since.
Hence the fervent urgency with which I caught the goddamn bouquet.

You know why I love weddings? They remind me that there must be a stallion out there for me. And if not, that I’ll always have good friends to get happy and piss drunk with.

I’m going to Hedgebrook in 5 weeks, and I’m really looking forward to it. It’ll be an amazing experience; I can’t wait.

They asked me to list my comfort foods, and I wrote the following:

Mangoes, French Fries, Cheese, Guava Juice, Mint Tea, Bagels, Tacos, Spinach Pies, Spinach anything, Eggs, Palak Paneer.

I don’t know what else to put. What would you put?

Sorry about the silence in these parts; I’ve been napping and packing and grimacing: I have 5 weeks left in Austin and I’m sort of cranky since the house I thought I would live in was snatched by other people. So now when I’m online I’m usually looking for a house.

That’s what the sign said infront of the ranch on Saturday. My good friend Erika got married to her sweet man, Taylor, on his Momma’s ranch. Longhorns and horses were witnesses. It was a 1930s-themed wedding, which meant we all wore bias-cut dresses (the women anyway), hats and pearls and gloves. The men were in suspenders and driving caps. Billie Holiday sang and we sat on blankets in the grass. There was an old fire truck and a fancy old automobile, fried chicken and cupcakes. The ceremony was long, and I cried twice.

When it came time to catch the bouquet, I tackled a dozen hot women and a 9-year-old and caught it. Not really: it sailed in my direction and I just kept my eye on it.

I’ve known Erika 8 years, but it feels like a lifetime. I’m thrilled for her…and for her daughter, Destiny, whom I love as much as I love my own kid.

The NYT had a piece this weekend about the new Jordanian show, Ben & Izzy, which is currently seeking distributors. It’s partially King & Queen produced/funded, and it’s about an American kid and a Jordanian kid who travel through time with the help of a genie. They bump into Mark Twain:

“I reckon you and Ben don’t get along too awfully well,” the animated Twain tells the Arab boy.

“He is annoying,” Izzy tells Twain. “Americans are so brash and full of themselves.”

A moment later, Twain takes Izzy’s chin in his hands, and instructs him: “Don’t judge the country, son. Judge the man.”

Maybe the creators should take Twain’s advice:

Ben the American is described as “a symbol for his country” who is “big” and “energetic,” but “on the negative side, he is a bit xenophobic, self-centered, needs-to-win competitive.”

“Like his native land,” the creators write, “he sometimes blunders into situations without thinking.”

Izzy the Jordanian, by contrast, is “slight of build, sinewy and studious,” but “on the downside, Izzy can be a little too serious, self-righteous, superior, even devious.”

I explained the plot to my kid and his eyes glazed over half way through and he looked away. Then he said, “What’s Izzy? What kind of Arabic name is that?” When I showed him the picture of Mark Twain, he said, “I don’t like it…That animation is weird.” I guess there’s one Arab American kid who won’t be watching that show…