Subway Limbo

When afraid of the end of the world, take the stairs. This breeze from up there is not from the sea, but from ice on streets, slipping off into atmosphere—my body humid like the air above, lies into itself. “Walking up escalators speeds up the end of time,” I hear from the subway elevator. Wide-eyed with umbrellas they all go, clutching briefcases and babies into rain and city concrete. We are born to decompose, breathing to choke, smiling to sag. “They are running up just to lose their toes,” I hear again from the elevator. As long as our children grow to be us, love into scribbled pages, dog hair into hats—a baby cries while pigeons gather for crumpled donuts and lost meat. As long as a tree grows in my ashes, I am fine.

Forget & Allow

Some people might think this is silly, but my first contact with "modern" poetry was with Jim Morrison. First came the Doors, and then I realized that Jim Morrison wrote poetry. I checked out his book, The Wilderness, from the library of my middle school anytime I could. I'm still going to contest that this isn't like reading Jewel's poetry book. IT'S NOT. OKAY? His poetry was similar to Rimbaud's, dark and mysterious...and also, Jim Morrison was an extremely beautiful man. And, anyone who writes about the desert, death, drugs, and sex was very attractive to me at the age of 13. And sure, it's still pretty cool now.

I'm mentioning this because I just watched my Doors Storytellers DVD.

Today, I worked at the cafe. I chopped celery for an hour while singing songs, including "Rubber Ducky, You're the One." I forgot that I knew all the words. THEY JUST CAME TO ME. LIKE MAGIC. I've realized how lucky I am. I go to work, meaning: I laugh all day, meet people, talk to people who come in all the time, make them delicious and beautiful coffee drinks, eat a free delicious lunch, talk about food, taste soups, talk about music, walk home through Harvard Yard and down Oxford Street, have a few hours of alone time (read, write, shop for food, nap, meditate) see Jake, makeout and snuggle, make a yummy dinner, repeat. And, that is my basic day. I am a lucky lady.

I'm all applied to grad school. Now, it is just a wait and see. You know, if I don't get into the three schools I applied to this year, I'm excited to apply nationally next year. I wouldn't mind moving out of New England. But, I also have a big soft spot for it. Especially tonight! Our first drizzly snow slushy night of the winter -- ah. I'm sure I'd feel differently if I had a car or if I shoveled...but, I don't. I just enjoy it. I like the cold, sometimes.

For lunch/brunch, I had an egg sandwich with mushrooms, spinach, tomatoes, red peppers, onions, siracha sauce...on toasted focaccia bread. Holy moly. I am STILL full. That was at 1pm...it's 8:30pm, now. I also had a fourth of a red velvet cupcake, a bit of a raspberry chocolate scone, and peppermint yerba mate.

I just talked to my long lost friend Tammy. It was a fun time. It always has been. It should happen more often.

To Anna

Hey Marigold



Your voice is plant music.

I want to think you belong

in a well-kept garden,

no matter how wild you grow.

Bright eyes, you own the world

and I will wait for you, here--

like I wait for summer.

The warmth you gave,

has never left--but it is trying.

Cold nights are unfolding,

and I lay here, next to the radiator,

remembering that heat we shared.

Sometimes, I put my hand on hot metal,

just for two seconds, hearing you laugh

about big buildings. The coldness

of those shadows, not needed

for weeds or wildflowers.

We spread ourselves

wherever we want.

Overworked, poetry, vitamins

Hello!

I haven't written in here for quite a while...reasons are:
1. I work 40-48 hours a week at the pie cafe, making the big moneyz.
2. When I come home, I either nap or read or sit.

This week, though, my manager gave me three days off! Today, Thursday, and Saturday. It's going to be beautiful! Ah. Today, I'm going to clean and make some sort of squash soup. We have two acorn squashes that need to be used...as well as apples and carrots.

I've learned a lot about soup and chopping veggies at work. I know how to chop things correctly, and I can tell I'm doing it correctly because you end up with a "chef's blister" on your index finger.

Recently, I went to the doctor. The good news is that I am not anemic. Yay! Bad news: vitamin D deficiency. I bet almost everyone has that in these northern states. You absorb vitamin D from the sun -- you should be in the sun for at least three hours a week to get the amount you need. Foods with vitamin D include egg yolks and salmon and animal organs (liver). These are foods I don't really eat too much. So, vitamin D supplement it is! And you know what, I'm not as tired as I usually am.

As far as the future, I applied to three MFA in Creative Writing/Poetry programs. Brown, UMass Amherst, and Lesley. If I do not get into these local-schools, I will be applying all over the USA. I can't move until Jake finishes his master's at UMass Boston (December 2010). I'm trying to be VERY PATIENT.

I've decided not to apply to jobs as fiercely as I was doing previously. This is because any job I almost get, they hire internally. Or, there aren't any jobs. And, I actually like my barista/prep cook job. It's fun!

poem

Working in a Restaurant
by Alia Hamada

These aprons remind me of my time
as princess of the kitchen.
Stains on rough white cotton and tall hats –
the kitchen-yellers, shouting who wants the soup
and eighty-six the onions on the tuna fish.
My father, the loudest of all chefs,
chopped quickly, smiled, swore –
all this, while I snuck mints from the palm
of a porcelain angel.

Even now, he is here
inside all the laughing chefs
in this kitchen, and the last place
I wore plastic gloves like these,
was in a hospital.
I told my father a secret he never heard.
My mother was pacing –
the room, holding its breath.
The beeping machines stopped,
and the smell of those gloves
were with me throughout the night.

Sometimes, the restaurant kitchen
grows dark, and chefs freeze.
Knives levitate freely
and the room spins.
Looking down at my hands,
I see his hands,
gripping for lost air.

Posting procrastination!

Working at a cafe as a barista is almost like being a bartender. I hear people's life stories. Sometimes they want to talk about their bad days or their babies or their jobs. They like it when you have their name and drink memorized.

It's almost a karma job, testing my patience, kindness, keeping myself in line...not losing my temper. Some people watch me from over the espresso machine...tapping their toes, staring at everything I'm doing. Do I make light conversation or just concentrate more on the project at hand? I DON'T KNOW! I am still learning.

Also, it is completely stress-free, and I made new friends. I make friends every day. I get a free lunch and free casualty nibbles (broken cookies, scones, anything that crumbles). If anything, this is an extension of my meditation vacation. Making espresso drinks, steaming milk, cutting strawberries for yogurt parfaits, smiling and understanding people and myself -- what more can I ask for?

I open at 6:30, and leave at 2:30. It's not a zombie-like experience like working at exhale that early. I think I usually left the apartment by 5:30, which is a completely different experience than 6:15! Believe me!

I tried hummus today that was sans tahini plus sesame oil. It was amazing! And, it makes sense! Why NOT use a different sesame seed condiment to replace another?!

In other news, my birthday happened last week. It was so much fun! I was surprised by a Red Sox game, dinner at Hungry Mother, a bouquet of flowers. What a man this man is! Ah. Also, Matty Matt bought me a juicer! We had a juice party! It was amazing, and frothy and fresh! I think I ate two whole mangoes and a carton of strawberries. Oh, and a papaya. Last Sunday, a few of my friends got together for brunch at Highland Kitchen. They have a bluegrass band that plays there during brunchdays, and Jake got them to sing Happy Birthday. It sounded awesome bluegrass-stylez!

It's been raining a lot lately. The sky isn't blue anymore. It's white.

I have some plants growing in a garden in the backyard. Two of them died from a transfer. And, my basil plant has been eaten alive by some unknown bug or animal. BUT the neighbor's basil plants are fine. What is the trick? But, I still have squash, tomatoes, bell peppers and collard greens. Let's go babies, let's go! You can do it!

I've signed up for a meditation workshop that starts in mid-July till mid-August. Should be good! I want to get to know the Cambridge Insight Meditation Center...it's too close for me not to be involved!

I also had mango gazpacho today despite the chilly October-June weather. Sooo yummy.

Time for my daily nap!

Employment/Un

Summer is coming! As these past few months-of-Alia have rolled by, I've realized the most important thing is to just be content in what I'm doing. Whether it's zoning out it the sunshine, painting, reading, cooking, baking, laughing...I think I am easily calmed down and easily relaxable. I am content and happy with my life. I performed a poetry reading, been published in a lit mag, have workshops planned for the end of May and beginning of June for 8-10 year olds to learn about multilingual poetry and food poetry, got a job at a pie shop (www.petsipies.com), and have become closer to the friends I worked with at Barefoot, because they aren't just work friends now. They are real friends. In love, I have a real home, a red couch, a yellow kitchen.

I finished reading two books.
I saw Niagara Falls!
Oh, life! Thank you!
I met Jake's grandmother, who is turning 100 at the end of this month. Incredible.

We had our housewarming party, and it was beautiful.
Next Friday, I get to call unemployment to tell them HEY, I GOT A JOB.

I read to a third grader every other Thursday. Today we talked about Wolverine, Spiderman, and dinosaurs. Specifically, we talked about dinosaurs eating other dinosaurs. Last time, we talked about scorpions eating other scorpions. Canabalism just keeps coming up!

I can't wait to start at my new job! I don't even know how much I'll be making. I love learning new things. Being in the kitchen, a big kitchen like that, with big giant freezers and lots of metal reminds me of my dad. I love the smell of clean aprons. I watched a baker make brownies a few days ago when I was training, and man...I am going to learn some sweet baking tips.