Are you sleeping, are you sleeping sister SD?

As the days have gotten longer my sleep has gotten shorter and so I resorted to taking some Ambien every couple weeks if I have a stretch of three hours or less of sleep each night. On one of those night I took 1/2 tab of Ambien, I curled up to sleep and as usual slipped my cell phone under my pillow. I woke up refreshed in the morning and went to work. It was a half day at work and I was going to enjoy the glorious afternoon by pampering myself with a hair dressers appointment.

I left work at midday and as I was walking out I checked my missed call and messages. I noticed that I picked up a call a little bit after midnight. I didn't remember talking to anyone so I texted messaged the caller to verify this fact. The text came back yes I talked to you last night but you sounded out of it. WT fudgecakes! I scrolled down to my text messages and I also had sent a couple text messages out while I was asleep. I freaked out and wondered what else I did while being medicated but thank God there wasn't anything else.

I promised myself I won't take those pills unless it is absolutely necessary. I can do certain things to help me get to sleep. Listening to Quran does it for me, working out and then taking a hot shower right before bed, drinking some warm cocoa and reading. I can also take away the distractions from my bed like my computer and phone. I don't believe in TV watching so I don't have one in my bedroom thank God. Hopefully all these measures will lead me to a sleep induced state that doesn't require a chemical cocktail in my body.

I wonder what other things people can do to fall asleep?

Different day, same old story

I missed writing in my blog but recently I have taken to utilizing the more personable journal by my bedside. It holds my thoughts bound tight within its pages but today, today I will let my blog be privy to these thoughts. Have you ever been caught in a moment in your life that makes you go "Hmm, boy does this look familiar!" No. I am not talking of deja vu but rather repeated patterns that emerge throughout the course of your life.

These moments are precious and should be regarded with reverence. Why, you may ask? Its simple. It is the ability of your consciousness to identify the pattern and bring it to your attention that makes this moment precious. Many of us go through life not examining it but rather going through the motions like farm animals in a barnyard. We don't strive to use the highly developed brain we have been blessed with, to think and analyze our daily occurrences. Therefore when a moment comes that strikes you as familiar, STOP!

This is where men are separated from boys or to be a feminist women are separated from girls. I have found myself in said situation and I didn't stop. I didn't analyze. I didn't blink. I waltzed passed that reverent moment without so much as a nod of acknowledgment. What I should have done was recognize the moment and the repeated pattern. Then I should have gone digging in my memory banks and examined what I did in past when I was presented with the same pattern. If I did examine the past, then I would have found that I have repeatedly done the same thing over and over again expecting different results.

Einstein once said that the definition of madness is doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result. These precious moments of reverence are opportunities. Opportunities of correcting a repeated mistake. Opportunities of ending a cycle and unfurling your path to new possibilities. Dare we dream? If we did we would grab these opportunities with both hands and change our fates. For once we would masters of our own destinies, but alas a minuscule amount of us see these precious moments for what they really are. Sadly I am not among the minuscule either.

Thought of the day

I saw this and thought to myself how times have changed. I miss the days when my mom asked me where I came from when I strolled in, not that I came home at odd hours, its just that I had a guilty look. I remember once during winter, I walked in with chapped lips that I had been licking all day and my mom thought I had been snogging some poor fella. I had to give her a good 15 mins explaination as to why my lips looked red and irritated.

Now that I have proved myself to be a miskiin she doesn't check up on me as she used to. At times she even gives me a wide berth making me feel guilty when I arrive home anytime after midnight. Cherish those moments gals (I can't believe I am saying that) for when your momma stops asking you where you have been it means its time for you to get hitched to a band-wagon.

Listening to Arias

I have spent all day listening to Arias because I can and its the only time that my mind finds peace. Most of my fam and friends think I am an odd ball whenever I go to catch my fav opera at the local house. I think if I lived in New York I would probably be broke from buying tickets all the time. I remember when I went to Sydney, my delight at being in THE FAMED OPERA HOUSE and sitting in my chair. It was like a dream come true. I can't wait for next season because there are a couple shows I want to catch, like Strauss' Salome and Puccini's La Boheme. For now here is a sample of one of those arias that people know but don't recognize as being part of Rossini's The Barber of Seville.

Jawaahir Dance

Last night I went with my friend to watch the Jawaahir dance group perform at the Southern theatre by Seven Corners in Minneapolis. There were some parts of the performance that I didn't quiet enjoy but for the most part it was very well done. There was a live band playing and I loved loved the oud player. I swear I was in tears when he was singing. The other song wasn't bad either and off course the tabla solo was excellent. One of the violin players looked familiar, till I realized he is a presenter on public access TV.

Cassandra has a very subtle dance style and unless you realize that, you are likely to discount her as not so good. I loved her performance especially the arm and finger movements. They were mesmerizing. The show is still going on till the end of this week and on Wednesday its pay as you are able. It is very informal because you can meet the dancers at the end of the perfomance and talk with the them.

Its been a while since I danced to arabic tunes and watching the show made me hunger for it. So, my friend and I are going to attend a belly dancing class just for kicks. I am pretty sure I can still learn a few things especially the figure eight shake. So for all you MPLS guys, check out the show and hope you like the music as much as I did.

Xcruciating pain

I once broke my wrist bones and refused categorically to take pain meds. I dealt with the pain. I strained ligaments in my ankle and hobbled my way up the gangplank of a ship and through an airport with a heavy backpack. I didn't whimper then, but now I did something to my MCL and every time I climb into my car I scream in pain. When someone bumped into me at work I laughed with pain.

It is unbearable, nerve raking pain. I take my anti-inflammatory tabs and ice my knee when I get home but I almost feel like hacking the goddamn leg off. The doc asked me if I wanted pain meds and I resolutely refused, now I wish I had taken them. Turning in my sleep makes my nerves ring out the alarm bells.

How do these athletes do this? I swear if someone intentionally tackled me at a football game and caused this much pain I would probably hunt them down and cause them as much pain. Instead my dislocated patella and subsequently MCL injury was caused by testing out a MATTRESS. Yea, I know dumb but it happened. I just wish this doc would hurry up and see me and give me an answer as to how I am to survive and heal. Gosh, my body is giving up on me already.

Be kind to your body parts you never know what it means to function without it. I miss stretching my leg languorously while reading my books.

One of the seven deadly sin

Pride........vanity..........kujidai.

The other day I was listening to a couple people talking with my mother. I was struck with the way some of them were proud of murderers and killers. The topic of course of Somali's ongoing turmoil. I can't say I have an insightful lock on Somali culture but I am amazed by how certain illogical things become matters of pride.

For example, when a woman is beaten senseless by her husband, it becomes a matter of pride to hide this fact from others. I think the man should be placed in the public court for being inhuman to his spouse. The above example is not the reason why I had to pen my thoughts, so to speak. My chagrin comes from the Israf that people indulge in so that others might not know the true depth of their pocket book. Spending lavishly (willy nilly) when in reality they cannot afford what they are acquiring.

Personally, I have no problem owning up to the fact I am broke. I was out with my friend the other day shopping for jackets. I didn't need a jacket but I could have used one for a change of colors. As we flipped through racks and racks of jackets, I suddenly realized I am flat broke for the next couple months. This is largely due to paying rent and mortgage on a house that we haven't moved into yet. Finally, I turned to her and told her I can't afford these high prices for the jacket. I am content with my black one for now till I can afford it. She didn't back away from me like I had leprosy, she actually understood. Now if someone else in my family had been in my shoes they would have gone ahead and purchased a jacket just so as to keep appearances.

Does anyone else notice that about relatives or is this a problem that exists solely in my head?

Historic Moment

Will you recall where you were tonight? I will.

Holding hands with my friends as we watched the numbers coming in. First came Pennsylvania then the most crucial Ohio, after that it was a rapid cataclysmic addition of electoral votes. My phone was going off the hook when CNN projected him the President Elect. President Elect BARACK OBAMA. I can't believe it still, its a shock, a pleasant one, but a shock nonetheless.

This is the America we believe in. One that saw past the color of someone's skin and elected the best candidate solely on issues. So maybe McCain's chances were hurt when he chose Sarah Palin but still I am so proud of being an American. So, so, so extremely proud of the young generation that rode the wave of change and believed in it. They believed in it so much that turn out for this demographic was record high.

Congrats President Barack Obama. I am proud to say I stood in the cold waiting to hear you speak when you came to Minnesota, not once but twice. I am proud to be alive to watch this most historic moment and I wish you the best as you take the reins of this country into your hand.

I believe in you. WE believe in you.

Still breathing for another year

Hello folks,

I have gotten a year older. Alhamdullilah! Since my trip I have noticed that I have a new outlook on life. It seems I needed the time away to access what I am doing. I have decided to balance my life as an adult and my life as a mommy. It seems to be working for the most part except I happen to also piss people off with my candid nature. Oh well, I can't win all the time.

Anyway I have been hanging out with my friends more. I go out every weekend to dinner or a play and seriously I think I have never been less stressed. This is my attempt to explain why I haven't been blogging so much. :(

I am still working through my pictures and footage from my Aussie/NZ trip and hopefully will get it in order one of these days. I still have to drop off my roll for my snorkeling trip to the Great Barrier Reef and see what goodies I shot underwater. Other than that trust me I got horrific and funny tales to share about the trip. I also want to give a shout out to my cousin for being a doll and not losing his patience with me whilst I was visiting. Bridget says hi too and says she enjoyed her visit. I also want to know how to return what I borrowed since it looks like you don't read your e-mail. (I hope this message gets to you via proper channels) :)

Spring is here! Get out and enjoy life.

Ps:- I am trying to figure out where to visit next. Japan and South America are my choices. If anyone got tips let a sister know.

Obama '08 and Feb 5th

When Jess told me Obama was coming to Minneapolis on Saturday I was ecstatic. I was above the moon when she scored us tickets to the event. I had a prior engagement to go to in the morning and so did she but at half past noon I was on my way to pick her up. "Ten minutes left before the doors open. Hurry Leyla!" yelled Jess excitedly. We walked to the Target center discussing the different candidates and where they stood on issues. Jess was undecided but all I needed was reaffirmation. Target center had people everywhere. There were lines for waiting list people, lines for green tickets, lines for E ticket and gold tickets. The line snaked a mile long. Almost down to the I-94 exit for Olson Memorial Highway.

People stood in the cold stomping their feet trying to stay warm. There were people of all ages, from 1 year olds to 60 year olds. Talk about a change? This was an amazing sight to see. Minnesotans braved the cold to listen to Baraka Obama speak. 20, 000 people had gotten the tickets before hand while there were 10,000 more on the waiting list. The Target Center, which doesn't even fill up during a basketball game, was full to the top bleachers. Obama openers included Minneapolis Mayor R. T Rybeck, Keith Ellison and Lady Freeman. He spoke eloquently and talked about issues he believed in from veterans rights, college affordability, health care, war, foreign policy, poverty, economic issues. Baraka peppered his speech with comedic moments that made him seem like one of us.

Obama's father left the family when Obama was only two years old. His mother raised him while going to school and working. Obama recounted instances when he was on food stamps. Obama watched his mother die from cancer at the age of 52. He watched as his mother's face bore the worry lines from reading letters from insurance companies trying to deny her health reimbursement. I feel that he takes a lot of things that many Americans go through with him wherever he goes. He is young and inexperienced but maybe thats what America needs. A person who is untarnished and still idealistic.

For all the Americans who can vote in the upcoming November elections, remember Feb 5th is caucus day. From 6:30 pm -8:00 pm. Please go out and vote for the candidates of your choice. More Americans watched Superbowl than voted last election and thats a horrible statistic. We need to exercise our civil rights. So please find out your caucus center and go vote!

The End is near.

I am somehow here writing about the end of Ramadhan. Most of you will agree with me that it has flown by unnoticed. I noticed. This is the first Ramadhan that I have been tired and worn out. At times, even sujuuding during Taraweh seemed to frighten my knees. I am not sure if its age making its claim on my body or my body screaming that it needs nourishment. Alaayeta3al, its almost done right? Nope.

Last week as I looked at my calender, I started getting my ducks in a row. Eid was near and I had to get certain things done. Shopping was at the top of the list. Don't you hate shopping in crowds? I do, I detest it with a passion. This year I was going to do things differently. I took my sisters shopping 1 & 1/2 weeks before Eid. Just in time to get the new shipment of skirts and easy pickings. Each of them has three outfits and an abaya for prayers. Magda, the Egyptian abaya lady, knows me from my abayas. I don't get my abayas from her. Since going to Egypt I bought a ton of them plus I have a source who sends them to me once in a while. This year, she asked if I had my abaya ready and I said no.

She smiled and went on to talk with my sisters regarding who fasted the most. My youngest sibling won that contest and got a huge hug from Magda. I knew she was helping me in putting positive reinforcements that fasting is a wonderful thing to do as muslims, and I loved Magda for that. I looked left and right at the abayas and I knew at the mosque every somali would be donning one. I choose a couple for my siblings and talked some more about Egypt with Magda. She wanted the number of the English speaking taxi driver who drove me around while I was in Egypt (did I ever tell you guys that story?)

I promised to text her the number and went home laden with shopping bags. That night I got a call from my mother. She had somehow gotten from Somalia to the Middle East. Knowing my obsession with abayas, she asked me if I wanted some. I yelled with glee and the volume increased when she told me she had already sent them ahead. I thought, Alhadullilah one thing less to worry about.

Then I remembered about Zakatul Fitr. I had to pay it this year and I didn't know if I had to do it for my siblings too since I was the taking care of them now. As I was mulling this over, one of my siblings came in to talk to me (this sibling we lovingly call sheikha). I told her what I was worried about and she waved it off telling me that my dad had taken care of it. Huh? I remembered that my dad had called at the beginning of Ramadhan to let me know that he was going for Umrah. Apparently at the time he told my sister he had paid for all our Zakat including my mom. Yeah, another one bites the dust!

I took my days off from work and I will be family hopping, giving hugs to extended families, giving money to lil kids and kicking back this Eid. I am excited that I probably pulled off the least nerve racking Eid ever. Alls left to do is make deserts for the house and coordinate prayer transportation.

Eid Mubarak to everyone. Spend time with your family and kiss/hug them to bits.Finally, I hope you all gathered your blessing of Ramadhan and continue in the spirit.

Bridge Collapse.

Its been almost 18 hours since the freeway over the Mississippi river collapsed. I had just gotten off work at 6 pm and was making my way towards downtown Minneapolis when it happened. I was on 35W southbound and traffic was bumper to bumper when I decided to get off the East Hennepin Exit. No sooner had my car turned the corner when the first ambulance rushed by me sirens full blast. I found my way to University Ave hoping to cross over the 10th street bridge in a couple hops. Another ambulance rushed by me again this time I noticed it was a suburban ambulance. Traffic was bumper to bumper on University and I was getting antsy. I could almost see the BP sign over the cars but I knew it would be a wait. A firetruck barreled through the traffic wailing away as light flashed. Something was up. People seemed to be running towards the bridge next to the University Exit of 35W. The air was still except for the steady droning of helicopters. What are choppers doing out here? I tried to peer out my window as I snailed along the road. My heart lurched as I looked over the familiar hump that used to be 35W to the right of my car. There was nothing there. People were on their phones and all heading towards the site. I switched my radio to NPR and soon enough the broadcaster announced the collapse of the bridge. I could have been on that bridge if I hadn't gotten off at the exit before it. Reaching for my phone to call anyone, I noticed that none of my calls were going through. The airspace was clogged as another couple ambulances zoomed by me. The news pouring out of the radio was slow as preliminarily no one knew what happened. Pretty soon though the news was everywhere and there was talk of fatalities and about 50 cars being on the bridge at the time of collapse. That stretch of the freeway was under construction for the past month. What did they do to cause the collapse? Was it a terrorism act? Homeland security ruled that it wasn't a terrorist act. I got to my destination and sat in my car for a minute. I tried my cell again just as my sister's call came through. She frantically asked me if I was ok cause she said she saw my car in the river. I told her I was fine, I got off before the bridge. The rest of the evening I got calls from people who knew me and relatives wanting to make sure I was fine. I have to say I was impressed by the efficient way that the disaster was tackled by Minneapolis. Within an hour the police had to turn volunteers away. There were getting support from all corners of the metro from Roseville to St Paul. My sister works at HCMC Emergency Department and I knew it was going to be a rough night for her. 28-29 people were brought to HCMC, 30 to Fairview (closer to the site of the tragedy) and 9 to North Memorial. Most of the injuries seem to be fractures, head injuries, concurrent with a 40-60 ft drop. I am so proud of this city at the moment though I can't say I have much belief in their bridge system. Apparently there is talk that the bridge was deemed unsafe two years ago. I know lots of Somalis in the diaspora know one person or more who live in the Twin Cities, give them a call and make sure they are fine. There are two Somali males in HCMC at the moment who were on the bridge and there are still recovering bodies at site and will probably be doing so for a couple days. Pray for the souls of those who passed. Amin.

Bang Bang Bang!

Everyone thought I had gone bonkers when I set out for my boss' farm in Wisconsin to go shooting. I had never shot a gun in my life, but for the past year I got interested in the sport. My boss offered to teach me if I wanted. Two weeks ago when I asked him when he was available for my first lesson he raised his eyebrows in surprise. Off course he had just called me an infidel to get a raise out of me, so maybe he was wary of my request. Anyway, Friday I stood on top of grassy knoll with a homemade target in-front of me. He walked me through gun safety till I automatically put the safety on everytime I stopped shotting and never had my finger on the trigger. My first shot was 2 & 1/2 inches from the center of my target. My hand shook as I steadied the .22 against my shoulder. The gunpowder smell wafted off from the opening where the spent shell popped out. My heart was beating frenziedly and my palms felt wet against the rifle butt. The next 14 shots were off the mark as I got more nervous. He reloaded the gun and told me to breath out as I squeezed the trigger. For the next 30 mins he coached me on targeting and as I got better with the home-made target, he moved me up to skeets. After a couple times missing the skeet entirely, he brought out the sig sauer. He walked me through loading the clip and placing my hands around it. He mentioned the fact it had a recoil that might throw me off but till I shot it I didn't realize how strong of a recoil he was talking about. My hand jerked back almost close to my face and my nervousness returned. I went through a couple rounds with the sig but it felt bulky in my tiny hands and I seemed to shoot lower than the target. I went back to the .22 and this time I shot the skeet accurately and my coach praised my good shot. For the next 20 mins we basically traded shots, him with the sig and I with the .22 . I got to say that I can see why people love shooting. It will take me a while to go to another practice trip but I definitely think I will be doing it till I get good at it. Why? I am not planning to be in a safe environment .i.e US after I graduate. Since, Inshallah I will be going back to Africa I want to be able to protect myself if I feel threatened. Idealistically, the situation should never arise but its better to be safe than sorry. I didn't like the feel of the sig but I could see myself with a walther PPK. Happy Shooting.

Shady Business Practices

I have a bug in my bonnet the last couple days and its over shady business practices. I decided I was going to write about my experience with this business as a warning for those who live in the Midwest area. It is a Somali owned travel agency. It is located in downtown Minneapolis around 9th street. My first brush with them was through a cousin of mine. We were catching up about life and I asked him when his wife was coming back to the US. At once he got angry and started about a travel agent he used to get his wife a round trip ticket from US to Kenya and back. On the day of her return flight, she was informed at the airport that there was no booking for her ticket. She had three days to get back before school opens for her children and her vacation time ran out. It was summer and most of the flights were booked solid. My poor cousin was livid to hear that the travel agency had taken payment from him but had not bothered to pay for the return portion of the ticket. Apparently they put a hold on a ticket and print out the itinerary for you. This hold is valid for a couple days I think and you leave thinking that you have everything sorted out. They don't make the payment in time and the ticket gets dropped and they have to scramble to find you another ticket. I sympathized with him because he spent his nights online looking for a return ticket for his wife.


Winter came and I had completely forgotten about my cousin and the travel agency. I got the opportunity to fly to visit my great grandma and grandma. I was so excited. My friend in North Carolina recommended his brother in Rochester. He was doing me a favor and hooking me up with what he thought would be a pleasant experience. I am all for putting money back in our community and making it flourish. I rarely eat at other places other than Arabic/Indian/Somali/Mexican, but I digress. Long story short I got shuffled from Rochester to Al-Amin travel in Minneapolis. I was on my wits end by that time because I had been given an itinerary four diff times. The trip was to be paid for by mom's business. At first they said fine and came by and took a photocopy of the card plus the ID of the business manager. Two days later they call me and say that Northwest don't take third party credit cards for passengers. What? Thats unlikely because I have bought tickets for people before and I never had a problem. So I called Northwest and they confirmed that if they didn't take third party credit cards they would have a hard time with parents shuffling the kids back for Christmas breaks and stuff. I called them back and told them what Northwest said, there was a mumble and then the stubborn somaliness reared its head. Before I lost my temper, I just asked him how much the ticket went up since this whole thing started. From $1600 to $2100. I bit back a curse that was fighting its way up my throat. I told him I would be by to pick up my tickets and would bring cash. Nearly in tears due to frustrations, I called my cousin and while he calmed me down he listened to me. He asked me the agency's name and I told him. I laughed! "Didn't I tell you my experience and here you are doing the same thing." I was confused at first then I remembered his problem last summer. I could have hit my head on the steering wheel. There was nothing to do now, because there ere less weeks left in my vacation and my grand-ma was waiting. I got the cash and went to the agency. Hands akimbo, I asked him to verify every flight of mine right then and there. For the international flight I got paper tickets for departure but not arrival. He explained that on my flight back Kenya Airway will provide the return tickets. I gave him my "I don't take BS and if you screw me over, you wish you had died" look. Leaning over the table and place my fingers on them, I told him I didn't want to have problems on my way back otherwise they will have more than they have bargained for. He got up and went to get me the tickets only to come back to say the printer is broken and can I come back later to pick them up. Do I look like I don't have anything better to do? Can you drop them off at my moms? Sure. I had barely taken two steps outside when my cell rang and my mom was pissed cause I used this travel agency when I could have used hers. I told her I didn't have any control they shuffled me from Rochester to here. She said she ran into the owner and he told her about me and my flight times.

Fast forward now. My brother in law is in the same predicament. I really could care less but its my sister who is suffering. He is supposed to be back from Somalia yesterday but they screwed up his tickets. I called the agency to ask them if there was something they could do. The guy was rude to me purporting that he couldn't divulge any passenger information to me. I wasn't asking for his stupid information. You have him on leash and you seem to be playing games. You are upsetting my sister and in turn in upsets me. If she calls you is there any way you can help her? The same stupid answer. He knew who I was. He knew who I was calling about. Something sparked in my memory. I remembered how my mom found out I was using his travel agency. "You didn't seem to be so concerned about that when you told my mom about my flights last winter.How come the double standard?" He kept silent then told me if I have a problem to call my brother in law. By that time I was seeing red. My sister keeps asking me everyday if there is something I can do. That in it of itself is another drama but all experiences with this agency seem to reinforce the idea that some people are not there to provide a service for their community but rather are there to take advantage of them. I asked around and there are many bad things said about their business practices yet I have never seen a review against them. They have the perfect location to look decent and legit but there is no doubt in my mind that this is a shady operation at best. I am sure if Northwest knew they said that about their business they would have something to say about that. Don't let this happen to you. I have decided when it comes to traveling I am sticking to my online sources.