Spring Swing & Being Black

My roommate had this brain storm last summer to organize a swing dance. First day of uni she rushes to welcome me back to the apartment by telling me her ideas while her hands were full with my baggage. Finally last Saturday she saw her work bear fruits. We actually pulled off a swing dance in our little town and it was a success. There was a live jazz band playing all night with a canary chirping some tunes in between. Actually there were three jazz bands and they would take turns playing. We also had a non-alcoholic bar. In between dancing you could go request a kiss on the beach (Just to be PC), a virgin Shirley temple , a virgin pina colada among other things. More than that though was seeing all the students, faculty and community turn up dressed to the nines. I mean I am talking a dead ringer for the 1920-40's era. So we swung the night away. I had to sell tickets cause I was using any excuse not to be on the dance floor. As the night progressed I breathed easy. In walked all the basketball players and off course they wanted in for free. Since they were in our organization I let them slide in. Nico came outside to hang out with me and said we have to go dance at least once. I laughed the suggestion off and continued selling tickets. Ochieng walked in. I had seen him at the swing dance practice we had conducted and he was wearing a shirt with a kenyan logo. I didn't have time to talk to him then but here was a perfect opportunity. As I stamped the back his hands I casually asked him if he was from Kenya. He replied in the affirmative and we talked in kiswahili for a few minutes. Knowing he was with his date I didn't want to interrupt his evening I was just happy to have someone to talk to in Kiswahili. I ushered him into the ballroom but as he walked away he gave me his card, asking me to call him sometimes.

Nico was true to his word, he had gone to get my roommate to sell the tickets while we danced. Nico was a Californian with a Latino ancestry so he could move very well on the dance floor. We danced three songs in succession and I was dizzy for all the spins we were doing. I begged off and went to get a pina colada. The evening went well. I got to dance with Nico again after dancing with Dee and Chicago (Joe). It was a success in my book but my roommate the perfectionist thought we could have done better. So all hyped up we packed the drinks into my trunk and decided to get an early breakfast. Climbing into my car was a couple of other friends and we set out. Maintaining my speed limit we drove to the other side of town. I can't drive without the music blasting and since we were all hype the other guys joined in the merriment. Suddenly the red and blue light flashed in my rear view mirror. I turned the volume knob down and pulled over wondering why I was pulled over.

The cop swaggered to my side as his friend flashed his flashlight at my car occupants. I handed over my license and registration to him when asked. He asked me to sit tight while he ran my license. While we were waiting my friends asked if I was speeding and I said No. I was going within limits. So we started questioning why we got stopped and inevitably we came to the race card. We were all of dark complexion in the car and driving around in the wee hours of the morning with music blasting. My blood boiled as my face started burning at the indignation of being pulled over. I heard a tap at my window and the cop handed me back my documents. He explained he stopped me because my front tag was outdated but the back one was current. WHAT? He took away 20 mins of our lives for something that if he looked at my registration would have seen it was current. I shut my mouth as an outburst was forthcoming. Smiling sweetly I said no worries and pulled away. During our whole breakfast we ranted and berated the American system. Hey I thought we have tunnel of oppression program coming up in a couple weeks that we have to prepare for. How about doing a piece on oppression disguised in the 21st century. This weekend we get to work on it and hopefully I will have plenty of pics to share as we set up our tunnel.

The prologue to my book Inshallah

3udbi was playing outside when it happened. She heard the bloodcurdling screams start off at the edge of the village as it made its way towards her like waves crashing on the reef. At first she didn't know what to do. She stood with her head cocked towards the noises and her hands still holding on to her pebbles. After a few minutes she saw the smoke rising above the huts and she knew she had to go find her mother. Her feet barely touching the ground she bounded over stones and around trees as the sense of dread filled her little heart. 3udbi stood a few feet from the closest hut as she witnessed men with turbans around their heads setting it on fire. This didn't look good. She knew very well from the village legends that men with turbans around their heads came to take people away to Hell. She had to find her mother and little brother fast before they were taken to Hell. Skirting around the now burning hut she used a rugged path to get to her side of the village.3udbi skidded to a stop and out of breath by her neighbour's hut or at least where her neighour's hut used to be. Peeking around the now carcass of a hut, that was still smoking, she saw her mother's hut. It was burning with intensity as screams and wails come from within. Rushing forward towards the house without any forethought or precautions 3udbi had only one thought ringing in her head, "Hooyo needs me! She is crying for me!." Someone grabbed her as she got close enough to see the fire engulf the door. She kicked and yelled at the top of her lungs, "Hooyo...........alaa Hooyo. Hooyo macaanto...........Hooyo kadax bax. Hooyo! Hooyo! Hooyo!" Tears flowed from 3udbi's eyes as she clawed and kicked to be freed from her captor. Her mother was burning up in that hut and was calling for her. She knew she needed to be there for her. She needed to be with her mother even if it meant dying in that furnace with her. She watched as her home collapsed in on itself. She watched as the sounds of her mother's wail died and in its place was the hissing of the fire and absence of the voice that had lulled her to sleep many a night. 3udbi stopped fighting and crying as the blackened hut groaned its last. She knew it was over. She would never again see her mother and brother. They were gone . They had left her alone in this world with nothing. The wind whistled through the village carrying with it the smell of burnt flesh and palm trees but more profoundly it carried 3udbi's mother and brother away from her forever.


I had inspiration and encouragement from a lot of people during the past years and I finally decided I will pour my heart in a book and Inshallah may it be a work that will educate and entertain people. Let me know what you think of the prologue. This is just an excerpt of it.

Elite Eight

Uconn made it. The team that was most raved about had to go to OT to prove their worthiness. Rashad and Williams are the key figures here that need a thump on the shoulder. Positively nice game to watch.

Florida Gators make it and who else that lead that team to victory but the only and only Joakim Noah (the cute tall dude on the right as girls call him). Wonderful game too. Wish I was in the HHH arena to watch it.










On the right is George Mason who made sure Wichita lost all hope of being in the Elite Eight. Theirs wasn't such a thrilling game but nonetheless congrats!

Finally comes the team that I was so sure were gonna make it through but they also had to battle it out in OT and won by a point over Boston College.

To recap, this is the Elite Eight match ups. FSU takes on Villanova, Uconn takes on GeorgeMason, LSU takes on Texas and UCLA takes on Memphis. By Sunday we will be down to the Final Four!

Tears on my Jersey caused by Youuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!

I am in awe, absolute awe at the game I just witnessed. NCAA's game: Gonzaga against UCLA. UCLA played a horrible first half till the closing mins of it. I mean they couldn't play any worse than they did. Gonzaga's All American champ Morrison was on top of his game. I mean he was making all his shots right. Then right up under their nose with foul trouble and bad calls against them UCLA takes the lead in the closing seconds. I mean absolutely stroke of luck on their part but God I couldn't study the whole second half of the game because I kept looking up at the game. Don't ask me how I study with B-ball on but I do.





So now LSU (an upset in it of itself they beat Duke) takes on the Texan Longhorns and UCLA takes on Memphis. Redick (Duke) and Morrison (Gonzaga) both shed tears at the court for losing. Dang I would to after training all year and watching what you fought so hard to achieve just slither itself right on down the drain.I so wish I was in MPLS tommorrow to watch the Gators and Georgetown play. I mean I could care less about Villanova cause they obviously gonna make it in but I am kicking myself at the moment for not being able to cough up $130 to watch NCAA in my city. I guess I will be monitoring it from my computer with my NCAA pass. Look for more commentary as the regionals progress and we head into the final four.




Ps:- The Longhorns also won by a three pointer right at the buzzer!

Pps:- I know I used a lot of 'I mean' but I am like that when I get as hyped as I am now. (Apologies for my writing skills in this post) .

***Walking away still in awe***

Passage of Life

Khadija walked into the house from the class pissed due to the amount of homework she was laden with. Taking off her sneakers she made her way to the kitchen. No one was home by the looks of the empty burners. Opening the fridge she weighed her nutrional options. She could go for the left over lasagna, frozen fries or make an omelette. She instead reached for the ice cream bucket, milk and strawberries. Blending them together with strawberry syrup she left the dirty dishes in the sink and made her way to her room. Khadija eagerly turned on the computer and as she waited for it to boot up she took off her hijab infront of the mirror. She looked at the image staring back at her. There stood a 5 foot 5 inches woman with baby having hips and endowed chest & back wise. She glimpsed the rolls of fat hanging around her belly and turned away disgusted. She was fat just like everyone told her and should probably start working out. She looked at the glass of milkshake she just mixed and decided to put off her diet and workout for another day. She deserved this treat after the day she had.


The chime and pop ups of the messages on her IM let her know she was ready to go. She sat herself in her chair and proceeded to look at the list of people online. Going down the names in her Yahoo, MSN and AOL she didn't see who she was looking for. Starting up Paltalk she held her breath as she clicked the pop-ups closed. There he was; CheekyNSneaky. She hurried to type her hello and waited for a reply. After 10 mins when there wasn't a reply she tried to say something else and found out that she was unable to send any message to the person. She was blocked! Khadija's heart broke into pieces as her world fell apart. She sat there staring at the computer numbly unable to process what just happened.


Today was supposed to be a special day. CheekyNSneaky and her were supposed to meet up after months of chatting online. He was everything she ever dreamed of. He was handsome, smart, understanding and had a great sense of humour. He looked past the artifical layer and saw the beautiful swan in her. This had done wonders in boosting her self esteem and she loved him for it. She had dressed in her most figure enhancing outfit, had a pedicure, manicure and matched from her hijab to her black open toed sandals. Khadija was excited as she had parked infront of Caribou. She peered into the cafe but didn't see any somali male in there. She reassured herself that she was probably early and he was probably on CPT (Colored People's Time). She grabbed her purse and book and made her way into the store. Ordering Cafe Au Lait she picked a spot where she could see who walked in and still pretend to be engrossed in her book. For a few minutes she was nervous as she watched the minute hand make its rotation. This was silly something must have happened. Khadija finally to ally her fears picked her book and started reading it in earnest. At about half past the meeting hour a somali man walked in. He didn't look anything like the picture of CheekyNSneaky. He made his way to the counter and ordered his drink. While he was waiting he kept sneaking looks at Khadija. Thinking back now Khadija was pretty sure he was evaluating her. When his order was ready he walked out. After another 15 mins Khadija got up herself and disappointedly drove to her class.


Now Khadija got up from infront of her computer and sat on her bed. Tears started forming in her eyes and she brushed them aside. How could he? Was the man who walked in his friend who had negatively appraised her? Was it her weight? Was she not beautiful? He has seen her pic before and he had remarked that he didn't care for looks and what was inside was beautiful in his eyes. Khadija braced her knees to her body as she experienced what only some know as heartbreak. She vowed what many women before her have vowed; never to fall for the false charms of men anymore. Khadija now was an emotionally mature woman forever marked with this experience.

Allah Made Me Funny

Who says Muslims can't be funny? Watch Azhar,Azeem and Preacher Moss doing their thang on stage.

Contrasting sentiments

THE LONELINESS (Babyface)

Video Code provided by VideoCodeZone.Com

Im sitting here thinkin' about
How Im gonna do without
You around in my life
And how am I gon' get by
Aint got no days, just lonely nights
If you want the truth, well girl Im not alright
Feel out of place, and out of time
I think Im gonna lose my mind

Chorus:
So tell me how you feel (Im lonely)
Are you for real (so lonely)
Do you still think of me (I think of you)
Baby still (you only)
Do you dream of me at night
(Its like I dream you all the time) so lonely
Oh let me tell you how it feels
(Its like everday I die)
Wish I was dreamin but its real
(When I open up my eyes)
Oh let me tell you how it feels
(And dont see your pretty face)
I think that I will never love again

I miss your face, I miss your kiss
I even miss the arguments
That we would have from time to time
I miss you standing by my side
Im dying here, its clear to see
If there aint no you, God knows there aint no me
Dont wanna live, I wanna die
If I cant have you in my life

Chorus:
So tell me how you feel (Im lonely)
Are you for real (so lonely)
Do you still think of me (I think of you)
Baby still (you only)
Do you dream of me at night
(Its like I dream you all the time) so lonely
Oh let me tell you how it feels
(Its like everdayI die)
Wish I was dreamin but its real
(When I open up my eyes)
Oh let me tell you how it feels
(And dont see your pretty face)
I think that I will never love again

As Spring looms in the horizon my mind reverts back to the “good ol’ days”. Something about the weather changing jump starts a heart. It could be the new seedlings bearing their fruit or it could be the flowers opening up to perfume the whole world. Whatever it is, it lead me to write this post.

This is a dedication to all the first loves out there. Let nostalgia set in as you walk down memory lane with this song. Click above to hear the sultry voice of Goapele as she sings it.

First Love.

As summer was ending, you were walking in
It seemed my life was falling
but in this season we were friends
six days into spring, is where our story begins
you didn't rush a thing,
but you knew you would win

CHORUS
I never thought you'd be the only one
I dreamt of fairytales ,thats how we begun
but I was waiting for some magical moment,
that would prove to me, forever would be fine,
meanwhile my first love, was standing first in line

One of the first times I didn't feel alone,
Is when i was in your arms
you always made me feel at home
we watched the sunrise,cause the night had sliped away
and from then until now, we've been through some different phases
but you love the winter, love the challenge,
always managed to think that we would make it

CHORUS

So let me get used to things, cause gradual is my name
I don't dive into the cold, I get in slow
but every day, I'm making peace with loving you,
peace with being me
any pieces of us-
I claim them all today

CHORUS

The hand that rocked the cradle

During the week I was home for spring break I spent a lot of time hanging out with my niece/nephew and younger siblings. I sat through the Disney "High School Musical" among other things and rewatched Harry Potter with them. One night as I sat on the couch with my little nephew on my lap laughing with his toothless mouth, I had an idea. Instead of watching TV (not that I was enjoying this) I was going to tell the younger ones a story. The more I thought about it the more I became certain that it would be more engaging than the Suite Life of Zack and Cody. I switched off the TV to the chagrin of the children and dimmed the lights in the living and dining room. I asked them to sit around me as I settled on the floor with the couch as my back support. I waited as the bodies shifted into positions and grumblings at this change of normalcy, finally quiet settled over us like a blanket, warm and enveloping.


There was once a wealthy man who had a big house and a big family to boot. He lived in the outskirts of town and was highly respected by his peers. The man's name was Hassan Burkenge. He was as tall as a telephone pole and as timid as a mouse. Most of the time people had to lean in close to listen to what he was saying. Hassan's wife was called Hawo. She was complete opposite of her husband. She was a proud Somali woman who used every opportunity to flaunt her wealth and her prestige. One day when Hawo was walking through the town center she came across the mayor's wife. This woman was in no means any more beautiful than she nor was she any more intelligent but yet she got more attention than Hawo wherever she went. Hawo was disturbed by this and went home in deep thought. As she walked by the fields her husband owned she mused that what was lacking was power and power she would get. Walking with more resolve she tracked her husband movements the whole day measuring him up for the position she intended him to occupy in the heirachy of power. She knew he would have to get a stronger voice, stand up straighter and most of all be ruthless. The task that lay ahead of her was astronomical but she knew she would rise to the challenge.


A week passed as our Hawo plotted and planned and finally she was ready to set her plan into action. That morning as she set breakfast infront of her husband she slipped something in his tea. She watched with eagle eyes as he gulped it down per usual. He was slow to get up but when he did she could have sworn he stood taller than before. His beady eyes shifted back and forth as if unsure of where he was. Hawo could have jumped with glee when he turned to her and in a harsh voice instructed her on what he wanted for lunch. Smiling to herself instead Hawo demurred and nodded her head in acknowledgement. She bowed her head lower as she came closer to her husband and in a whisper told him that his opulence was wasted in the fields and that he needed to step up to do what he was born to do;rule. Hassan listened to his wife and as his wife explained how they would go about it he smiled a devilish smile.

Within two days the weapons were ready. The machetes sharpened, the gun powder ready and the guns oiled down. Hawo stood back and admired her work. She knew soon she will be feared by all not to mention the power to make or break a person. Hassan lead his army to wage war against the town and took it over after two days of a siege. He was a ruthless ruler and he wasn't satisfied with only that town. Soon with his wife's prodding he slowly annexed the neighboring villages and towns. If the village or town opposed him vehemently he massacred them leaving the poor village bathed with blood and sorrow. Hawo enjoyed this man that she had molded into a great warlord. She enjoyed the fear she saw in the eyes of her peers when she walked past them. She reveled in this new life that she forgot what she had to do to get it.

A debt must be collected and when the time came the Devil was knocking on the door to collect. Hawo drunk with power ignored him telling him that there was no way she was going to give her youngest child to him. The devil warned her that she would have to face consequences to her breaking the deal but she laughed in his face. The next day when she awoke she found all of her children dead. She was distraught and yelled and stomped her feet. She cried and berated her misfortune but the Devil didn't show up. At the end Hawo went crazy as she had recollections of the masses that she had a hand in killing, the mothers who cursed her as they watched their men and children die and finally the villages she had delighted in razing to the ground. One night she awoke to her husband watching her. He asked her what drove her mad. Hawo cried while she relayed how she had entered a contract with the devil to make her husband the warlord he was. Her husband got up and came close to her, she clutched him closer to her and was shocked as she felt a knife piercing her back. She watched as the world dimmed out and the last thing she saw was the man she had molded;a cold hearted killer.

March Madness

You know what month it is. College hoops season is on and blazing hot. Villanova, Duke, OSU, UCLA and off course the fav this year UCONN. The icing on the cake for me has got to be to actually witness the regionals if I get a good samaritan to buy me a ticket **hint hint**. Should definately be a good month.

Uh huh............NBA. I am very very very dissapointed in Pistons. They got beat by Wizards and of all people the Lakers! Ugh don't get me started on that game.They are past their 50th game but guess what grizzlies and spurs are right on their a$$ with 49 wins on their belts. They better shape up pretty soon or I am going to be sticking my head in the sand and pretend I am dead to the world. When they got beat by Lakers I got a gloating phonecall celebrating the fact. Gawd I don't want to get any more of such phonecalls!!!

Conclusion

This is an quote from a book I am reading. When I read this for some reason it struck true.Maybe it explains a lot of things I see these days or maybe because I look for answers in odd places. Whatever the case I want to share it with the rest of y'all bloggers out there. Be interesting to see what your views are and maybe even what experiences you went through that follow this theorem.

"First love preserves throught a marriage the bright, living kernel of the
falling-in-love that engendered it, the outgoing of the heart by which the lover
recognizes, sometimes instantly and sometimes by progressive stages, the human
being who can soothe or satisfy his deepest desires-the one person with whom he
can redemptively re-create the primeval love for a father, mother, sister,
brother or other family member that could never be fulfulled. And though, when
he falls in love, the lover may know little about the beloved, whose soul may be
a mystery and whose body may hide beneath its clothes an ugly defect or scar yet
to be uncovered by his desire, still he is bonded to his beloved blindly and
trustingly and is ready to die for her even before he has seen her nakedness.
This is the meaning of the expression "falling in love" found in so many
languages, for the lover has as it were fallen into a deep pit (at the bottom of
which may lurk a snake or scorpion), and there must build his love for himself.

And even after the outward signs have yielded their inner promise in all its
glory or poverty, its undreamed-of heights or insufferable depths, the glow of
the first falling-in-love continues everywhere and all the times. Yes, even when
the beloved is in a wheelchair in an old-age home, diapered and connected to
tubes, even then the flash of a smile in moldering eyes, the ancient movement of
a veiny hand, the heard-again lilt of a dear voice, even a single sentence
containing the right words , can resurrect the first falling-in-love in a
twinkling-that love that unconditionally and in advance forgives every weakness
and failing, if only for the reason that in advance it knew nothing about them.

Indeed, nothing is more democratic than this total embrace of the beloved;for
just as the state, or the republic, can never revoke the citizenship of a
citizen, be he a spy, traitor, rapist, or murderer, so first love forbears in
all things because the first, unconditional falling-in-love persists.

There is another kind of love. The kind of love that has to do with choice. A more
developed variety, skipping love's primitive and dangerous "fall" for what is
deliberately and courageously chosen-not because it is the best choice, since
there is always a better one, but because it has potential. (I once watched a
nature program on television about a certain species of duck or swan that takes
four years of painstaking investigation to choose a mate-the longest aptitude
test on record.) Rather than marriage as a first flowering of feeling that lasts
only until the next falling-in-love, the love of choice offers something less
passionate but more stable:responsibility. In a moment of crisis the first kind
of lover declares emotionally,"What is done is done-I fell in love
with you, and so I forgive you," but whereas the second kind says
coolly,"Yes, what's done is done-I chose you, and I am responsible
for my choice."But-and here's the rub-while love of the first kind
can by its nature overlook what it doesn't like, love of the second kind is
incapable of such evasions. And so when something bad shakes the foundations,
"responsible love" is too weak to support it-and at that point the whole
structure collapses, and all that's left to say is,"You'd better pack your
things!"

To paraphrase the writer there are two kinds of love. The one that is unconditional and the one that is conditional. Many of us in Somali culture had grandparents who went through arranged marriage. The question arises as to if they actually had conditional love or unconditional love? My thoughts are most of them had conditional love/responsible love. The ones who were blessed had unconditional love.

If most of you haven't noticed, the diaspora Somalis divorce rates are skyrocketing. You would logically conclude there is something wrong with such a picture if in the past there was a 90-95 retention rate in the marriages why such a drastic change? You would think in the west they would have more of a freedom to choose their love but instead their marriage is based on choice;warmth? xtra income? Children? Security? Immigration status?

A Milestone

As of this moment I am a year older. I don't feel any different than I felt yesterday except more resolute to make sense out of life. I worked a nine hour shift at work and as I walked out the door my phone rung. It was my sister.

"Where are you?" she queried.
"Just getting out the door"
"You think you can make it to the theatre in half an hour?" she continued
"I am tired plus I need to go work out."
"Come on mayn, its your birthday and you worked all day. Skip the workout and come to the movie, I already got you a ticket."
"Aight I be der in a 10 mins with my flipping uniform"
"Salaams"

I turned on the car and waited for it to warm up. It was a dreary day perfect for my mood. It had snowed as I drove into the parking lot this morning which meant it was going to be a long day at the pharmacy. I had an awful night of weird dreams that consisted of a collage of men I held dear to my heart. I had tossed and turned, sweated and shivered as finally my alarm gave me reprieve sometime around 7 am. I was in no means in the mood to deal with guests who needed to be mothered. Grabbing a starbucks I begun my day quietly.

Backing out of the parking spot I turned the car West towards the Regal 20 theatre. I felt empty for some reason even though I had my health and my family by me. I turned my brain off as my exit came up. Calling my sister I let her know I was close by and she should avail herself by the doors. As I walked in my cuz popped out of the corner and gave me a hug and a kiss wishing me a happy birthday. She steered me away from my sister and asked me what I wanted to snack on while I watched the movie. I was on a diet and couldn't eat any carbs but I ordered nachos with cheese and jalapenos. Sitting back in my seat I took off my jacket and dipped my hand in the jalapenos. Knowing instinctively the bitter/spicy taste that they would elicit from me, my mouth watered. The movie I was being subjected to was Madea family reunion. I had watched the play and was interested to see what twist Tyler Perry in the movie.

The movie was funny as hell and had me slapping my thighs and clapping. At times I got emotional as the characters fell in love and revealed secrets close to their hearts. Pretty soon it was time to go. As I slipped my jacket on I flipped my phone open. There was a text message waiting for me. It read:

I breath alone, Allah willed me to.
My heart beats, Allah willed me to.
I thank Allah for I love you.
Lets marry and thank Allah for He is the most merciful and gracious.

My heart stilled. There was a whirlpool in my body and someone had turned on the switch. I walked quickly to the car wanting to outrun my life but I didn't succeed. It was stuck to me. As I watch the raindrops fall my fingers dialed the numbers that were burned into my heart, mind and soul. A groggy voice answered,"Hello?". My voice abandoned me. Why did I call? I tried with effort to say something back.. .............................. .... Hello, hi or something. Instead my body was racked with sobs. Tears welled up in my eyes as I fought for control. Why did you love me? Why do I love you so much yet can't make a simple decision like marrying you? Why am I a coward? Why can't you leave and find someone who deserves you? "Baby please wipe your tears I can't do them for you but you know if I was there I would kiss them away." You make everything right and I come and destroy it. What are you doing around such a destructive force? "Baby please I am begging you...........Where are you? Talk to me. Stop crying honey."I have to go, Xafsa is walking back to the car. "Baby talk to me. Are you ok? Where are you? Let me talk to Xafsa". I am fine I am sorry I woke you up I will talk to you tomorrow. "Ok I will call you in the morning please keep your phone close by otherwise you know I will hound you at home/Work/sister's/friend's". I will, I promise. "Salaams I love you". I don't. "I know you do". How do you know? "Cause I live in your heart. Drive safely back home." Ok.Salaams.

As I lay my head back I wiped my tears away and plastered a smile on my face. Xafsa clambered into the car and proceeded to talk about the movie. I faked my way through it, quick to point out my favorite scenes. Inside I was screaming for an answer to my problems but I knew no one was listening. No one at all.