(*) /speaking of Vancouver: who knows when Samer is moving? He said the end of the month. Who has his number? Tell me, people!
The past week: just so you know, i'm turning into a fat old man. Thursday of the Someone-Ski was the last time i actually moved around, other than from the desk to the hammam and back. Face-blotchy muscles-vegetate extreme-exhaustion. But: nearlynearly over.
In Saskatoon i could laugh with Miriam and Phillip when Tante Carol made fun of us for not drinking coffee. And now i subsist on the stuff. Like Tom Hurndall (an ISM-hero) [click here] on life support (except he died anyways--"flights of angels...", and i do wish his aqidah had been aight). The week of Examinatory Traumas, you see. Lesson: procrastination is all good, but chronic procrastination = O_o. Just like how the body can function with little sleep, but when it turns into chronically little sleep, rebellion: a week of one (or at most four) hours per night leads to: the moment the guard is relaxed ever-so-slightly, boom! flat-out, detours to the dark, oblivious to all but the mists of warm sleep. Inbetween telling the khawateen i go to make wudu and actually doing so; in al-hammam; on the carpet next to my desk; in the chair in front of the computer. And then i wake up with a start and try to barge on, reading the same page twenty times and understanding it but once. But i have survived, wa'lhamdulillah. These are the gasping graspings of an encrusted barnacle solidifying the treach'rous hold on life. Few dreams, just recuperation. Indication of a sorry inner State. Though this morning i'm sure i did dream something complicated (admittedly mundane)--I think it may have been a continuation of the 2.30am discussion on Lister Hall and "electromagnetism" (um.) and the Iraqi jihad (um 2x.) and so on. Sabri and Taka and Ph-r-d: we luv us manhs. Also the night before, dreamt something about Lara's mother driving Wuddistan through nighttime landscapes in a maroon van and then we ate noodles. With me continually on edge because decompartmentalism is tension-filled--though that last, at least, is open enough to anagogy. Also other stuff.
Hmm. So. Since the last post: Tuesday was the written-half of the English diploma, but i think i did reallyreally well--wrote 14 pages in the full three hours. On "memory": its significance as a formulating force (Two Solitudes) and a motivating force (Hamlet). First wanted to use Hesse's Beneath the Wheel as well, but decided against. A little hesitant as per using MacLennan, because i hadn't read it in a number of months and LC@UBC(UPMC) has my copy, but no matter: i think it was good. Went off on a creative tangent too. I am now six exams later, and other than a few emotional setbacks (where in the dunya is there window-washing-fluid?!!), i do feel that most of the inner tension has (somewhat) dissipated. Friday: a good_good khutbah by Sharafe (okay, so i was skeptical as i walked in, but...). I just like the way he speaks. And then waded through what Z calls the "maze of bureaucracy" at the Polisci office, retrieving at long last those HSMUN brochures. (Also we're still one short for Team Algeria.)
Hmm. Anyhow, this just signals my return to the world. Do you know i've been so encaught in the workishness that yesterday and the day before i had no clue that my own sister was doing "roza"? Ya'nee, seriously. It's like i haven't lived here for a week. But now i have some more assignments to finish, an article i'd forgot to write for the MM (Souhail talked to me on Friday at the Uni musalla. ^_^), and then i start studying for my two last exams (Thursday & Friday).
Oh, and, Noor leaves for TO tomorrow. ^_^ For, um, nine days. What's with that? I mean, really?
"the rest is silence..."
