because i am the queen of fake updates.

I decided the other night that the SoBe NO FEAR drink is one of the better-tasting energy drinks out there. (Wouldn’t it be funny if that was the same day Yaser decided to try out the Monster drink?) And trust me, I should know, since I seemingly enjoy torturing myself by conducting taste analyses of various energy drinks, the taste analysis criteria being based on two standards: Nasty and Bearable. SoBe is bearable. Everything else is nasty. The end.

Today's commercial advertisement has been brought to you by:

- One week
- Two midterm exams
- One paper
- Zero hours spent on AIM
- Two forums/workshops
- Twenty-seven unread emails
- Almost zero time spent with the coolest sister in the whole world
- Way too many reaction papers
- Two books I did not read for the respective midterms
- Not enough sleep
- Zero weblog posts

Yeah, so I missed all you crazy nerd children. I was browsing through my archives this morning and decided all my meaningful posts were last fall/winter. What IS that. I’ll be trying to remedy that soon. Meanwhile, Somayya bought me a new pair of pants. Black, of course. How many does that make now? Five or so, I think. Clearly, I need to INVEST in a new color scheme. Not pink, even though my new goal is to learn to like to wear pink.

Okay, enough girly-ness. Back to the paper-writing. Non-fake updates coming soon to a weblog near you. The end.

cloudy days.

Last Saturday, while on the road early in the morning, I listened to the Burdah for the first time in almost a year. The recitation is beautiful, the solos are simply amazing, but I realized it’s always going to remind me of this day.

I either slept through or skipped most of the cognitive psychology class I took last spring, and so don’t remember much of whatever I did learn, but I still find it interesting – for lack of a better word – to note how, much later, our minds continue to make such heartbreaking associations.

what the dictionary doesn't tell you

SCARY: College students who pedal through town and campus on their bicycles while jabbering away on their cell phones.
See also: stupid, suicidal, oblivious, road hazard, hella annoying

Please supply further synonyms.

i live to amuse you, abuse you, infuse you with the weirdness

S: Yasmine, you're such a display case.
Yasmine: Uhh, okay. And what's that supposed to mean?
S: I don't know, you're just always so entertaining to look at.

I wonder if it was the red pants. Or maybe it's the fact that I've been wearing real, actual shoes for three days in a row, which is a record for me. I think I've fulfilled my shoe-wearing quota for the rest of my life already. Can I go back to the flip-flops now?

my eyes have always been bigger than my stomach

I decided that letting three weeks of fall quarter pass by without buying any of the books I need for my classes was long enough. So today I walked into the university bookstore and bought twelve books for $173.80. (Which is really not bad, when I recall that, as a pre-med neurobiology major, I used to pay close to $400 for textbooks during each quarter.) I also spent way too much time I didn't have lurking around the English and Comparative Literature aisles, browsing through books for classes I'm not even enrolled in. Which means I ended up buying one book I don't need: Farid ud-Din Attar's Conference of the Birds. Way too cool to resist though.

edit: Forgot - two books I really, really wanted but decided to resist for now:

- Complications: A Surgeon's Notes on an Imperfect Science, by Atul Gawande (I read the introduction while just standing there in the bookstore, and it was absolutely fascinating.)

- Palestine's Children: Returning to Haifa & Other Stories, by Ghassan Kanafani

Read 'em for me and let me know how it goes, okay?

But still, the highlight of my last week, in contrast, was ducking into a used bookstore close to my hometown and coming back out with thirteen books for $25. Not bad at all, eh? A few short story collections by Ray Bradbury; a few novels I loved, growing up; and this gem by Susan G. Woolridge: poemcrazy: Freeing Your Life with Words - I'm reading it less for the poem-writing advice and more for the author's delightful stories interspersed throughout the book. Also, two poetry collections by Seamus Heaney (Station Island and The Haw Lantern), among other things. I was so tempted to buy this book - Ray Bradbury! One hundred short stories! Brand-new! Only $9.99! (All those exclamation points were my hyperactive bookworm brain trying to convince me I need to invest in books I really have no space for.) But I abstained, even though my fingers were all twitching. Clearly, I am such a nerd, what can I say.

Thank you, karrvakarela, for the Seamus Heaney recommendations; I trust your judgement, and I'll definitely be checking out the ones you mentioned.

Anjum, I still owe you a book list. Gimme a couple days to go through my archives, buddy. I know, I said that a week ago. Sorry, dude.

Oh yeah, and I have absolutely no idea where all these books are going to go. I need to invest in a couple more bookcases. For now, the floor's just gonna have to do.

Part 2
of the same

(Listen to Part 1 first, otherwise you won't get it)

For Arshad, who must not have known what sort of insanity he was asking for:

Part 1
brought to you by yazthespazz & mayyamonster
in conjunction with endless laughter and torrents of rain

excuse me, america, you mispronounce my pain

Spoken word performances, oh how I love thee.

And I love that I introduced my friend H (this is a different H; let's call him the confoozid boy who scrunches up his face at any mention of mint 'n' chip ice cream and salmon and I don't understand why I'm even friends with him still) to spoken word for the first time in his life. ("You have to come to this spoken word performance!" I kept exclaiming over the weekend. "What's that?" said he. "HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW WHAT SPOKEN WORD IS?!" said I), and he loved it just as much I was hoping he would, laughing at all the right moments and clapping with enthusiasm and thanking me nonstop afterward ("I owe you," says he; "Thank you so much for telling me about it." "No, you don't," say I; "Thank you for coming along").

That was the highlight of my day, you don't even know.

The next highlight is dinner.
Yeah, I know, about five hours late.
It's that age-old dilemma: food or sleep, sleep or food? What to do, what to do? When it comes down to it, I always choose sleep, but dang, I'm really hungry right about now.

Alright soljahs, midnight raid on the kitchen begins...NOW.

(And in yet other news, I've decided I know too many guys whose names start with "H" and too many girls whose names start with "S." Do you even understand how many days it takes for me to scroll through all the "S"s in my cell phone when I'm trying to find a name? I mean, really, the oh so rare instances in which I do use my phone, I'd like for it to be an efficient process, ya know. So that's it, I've decided Hasan is gonna be the only H-guy I know and Somayya is gonna be the only S-girl, and all the rest of you H and S people are just gonna have to change your names. No arguments.

And what's up with all the parentheses and semi-colon usage in this post anyway?)

ramaban mubarak

Whatever your personal goals are for this year's Ramadan, I hope you find within you the strength and dedication and drive to fulfill your goals, and to maintain and implement those changes following Ramadan, too. May your fasting become a manifestation of worship and patience. May He accept your repentance and make it sound and permanent, and grant you guidance and success in following the straight path. May He purify your intentions, accept your fasting and tears, forgive your sins, and bless you with mercy and peace during this month and throughout the year.

Ameen.

miseducation

1.
I got home from school late last night, walking into the house with my new messenger bag slung diagonally from shoulder to hip. This bag rocks das Haus – it’s khaki-colored canvas, with five or six pockets just on the outside, Velcro straps and random buttons everywhere. And I love messenger bags, in case you didn’t know. My father peered up at me from his armchair, brushing his hand across my bag as I leaned over him to give him a hug.

Daddy-o: What’s this?
Yasmine: *shrugging* I got tired of my backpack, so I bought this instead.
Daddy-o: *winces* Couldn’t you have bought something a little more professional looking?
Yasmine: I don't need something pretty or professional. I need a bag I can kick around when I get frustrated with school.
Daddy-o: Instead of this one, you could have gotten a nice little portfolio, or a bag to hold your laptop.
Yasmine: What laptop?
Daddy-o: It looks like a mailman bag!
Yasmine: No, it doesn’t!
Daddy-o: *shakes his head* Why do you always have to be so difficult? And different?
Somayya’s older brother, trying to be the voice of reason: It’s okay, there’s always one extremist in every family.
Daddy-o: Hippie! She’s a hippie!
Yasmine: *walks away laughing*

2.
The night before that, I helped facilitate a workshop for the university’s Student Housing division, at one of the first-year multicultural dorms. I’m starting to think I really shouldn’t be unleashed on large groups of people, because I just don’t know when to stop talking. But maybe that’s a good thing, and, besides, my colleagues kept assuring me that, No, I didn’t ramble or go off on tangents or whatever else I shouldn’t have been doing. And I appreciated the fact that the freshmen had lots of questions to direct my way.

‘Twas much fun. Here’s how my intro ended up going:

Yasmine: Hi, I’m Yasmine, and I’m a fifth year Human Dev –
*students start murmuring*
Yasmine: Thanks a lot, you guys, I really like how you did that collective gasp. Anyway, I’m majoring in Human Development and minoring in Social & Ethnic Relations. And, don’t worry, I promise I’m graduating in June.
*laughter*
Freshman boy #1: *whispers loudly to friend* She’s a fifth year? Dude, she must hella be a party girl!
Freshman boy #2: SHE’S SO COOL!

the impromptu We Are the World rendition of 'Tala al Badru Alayna'

the diwan

brought to you by the color orange







This is where I'll be at tomorrow. Wish you all could be, too. I'll be making a special mental note to stalk the UC San Diego MSA table throughout the day, where everyone's favorite blurker ("blog+lurker"; thanks, Baji!) 2Scoops' good friends will be selling t-shirts. Isn't it amazing what a crazy small world it is? I love it.

Lord, please don't let it rain.
Make it sunny. You know how I like all that yellow sunshine.
Lord, grant us all much strength, patience, and steady iman.
Make the event one that is successful and smooth.
And as beautiful and memorable as last year's.
Lord, help us bring a positive change to the youth and the Ummah.
Grant us patience and shower Your blessings on this event as well as all other events going on this weekend.
Open the hearts of all those who attend and make everyone leave in a better state than that which they entered with.
Remind us to breathe. And pray for guidance. And give thanks for all You have blessed us with.
Bless those who, with endless kindness and generosity, helped make this event possible.
And those who had the passion, vision, and drive to start this movement and the dedication to ensure it continued.
Lord, guide our hearts and purify our intentions and make the event one at which we feel Your presence with clarity.

Ameen.

take a sad song and make it better

Okay, so if you're anything like me, you're driving up to school at 7 a.m., bleary-eyed and yawning because yesterday consisted of this: driving from your hometown to Sacramento, working until the afternoon, and driving from Sacramento to your hometown to Berkeley to San Francisco to Oakland to your hometown. And you're stressed and highly bitter because it's one day before the event and your printer is out of ink and your ISP is down and you need to be checking and replying to last-minute event-related emails and this is no time for your internet to not be working. So you're listening to the Beatles' album "1," yawning so hard your jaw's about to dislocate, and wondering how the hell they manage to sound so damn exuberant and happy even when they're singing depressing songs.

Don't worry, kids, I have the perfect solution:

One way to wake yourself up properly and get your day off to a nice start is to turn up the volume on "Hey Jude" and sing along towards the end,

"Na na na na-na-na, na-na-na hey Jude
Na na na na-na-na, na-na-na hey Jude
Na na na na-na-na, na-na-na hey Jude
Na na na na-na-na, na-na-na hey Jude
Na na na na-na-na, na-na-na hey Jude
Na na na na-na-na, na-na-na hey Jude
Na na na na-na-na, na-na-na hey Jude
Na na na na-na-na, na-na-na hey Jude
Na na na na-na-na, na-na-na hey Jude
Na na na na-na-na, na-na-na hey Jude..."

at the top of your lungs. Loudly, okay. This is the important part. Once the song finishes, press the "repeat" button and start the song over again. I said, sing loudly. Repeat the process for however long it requires you to start giggling the rest of the way to school. Keep giggling and/or smirking whenever the song pops into your head at random moments throughout the day.

Hey, it works, okay.

Stop looking at me like that.