RANDA JARRAR

I’m off to Hedgebrook soon, and handing in the keys to my old apartment. I’ve packed my coffee beans and books and smokes and flask of liquor, and Penguin just sent me their great ideas series, and I can’t wait to read Thoreau on a rock overlooking Puget Sound, an owl on my shoulder. Posts will be sporadic, and I’ll be back after the 4th of July. Peace!

I just read Uwem Akpan’s “My Parent’s Bedroom,” in the New Yorker’s Fiction issue. Check it out– I love the way his characters react to others, and how he abstains from judging them. Anyway, it broke my heart, and I cried all over BookPeople.

Adonis reads his poetry

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Ruby dances on a stairmaster

I’m currently in the midst of moving all my shit and getting ready to vacate the apartment in which I have lived for four years. I threw away/donated five bags worth of toys today. My kid actually didn’t care. The only thing that’s frightening me is that I don’t have a place in Ann Arbor to move into after I get back from Hedgebrook. If anyone in Michigan knows of a 2 bedroom house with wood floors, washer and dryer, and yard in the Old West Side or Burns Park and wants to hook a sista up, drop me a line.

Laila Lalami has written a fabulous and brilliant essay on Ayaan Hirsi Ali and Irshad Manji over at the Nation. It made my week. Check it out. (Also, notice its badass title.)