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Once Upon A Dream

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:: 2005 2 February :: 8.58 pm

guajiragoddess: hey nice profile
guajiragoddess: lovergirl
NrthernPrincess: haha i'm pathetic
guajiragoddess: no no no
NrthernPrincess: it's ok i admit it myself
guajiragoddess: why?
NrthernPrincess: ah i just don't feel liek the same "tough mandi "
NrthernPrincess: like*
guajiragoddess: mandi, tough is an ambiguous word
NrthernPrincess: i suppose
guajiragoddess: being tough is having the courage to put yourself out there, knowing that you are "tough" enough to recover if you have to

Thank goodness I have Danielle to put complex ideas into words.

1 comment | what do you think?

:: 2005 1 February :: 11.49 am

We are talking about dialects and languages in class - for all of you that make fun of me for talking like a Canadian - check this out!!!

Yooper way of life may be pert-near gone
By Francis X. Donnelly / The Detroit News

Read more..

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:: 2005 31 January :: 8.28 pm

I love upper division classes. This semester is my first semester with a bunch of upper level courses. Why do I love them? Because it all makes sense finally. I can see how things are applied and the classes are so much looser - I feel like I am learning and applying and getting a real education for my career instead of graduated high school blah material. I have so many projects and reading and everything this semester but at least it feels like it all has a purpose instead of just the dribble of over-educated academics. It bothers me that I don't get to see Mikhail very much during the week. Carrying 18 credits and working 15 hours a week doesn't leave much time and that sucks but I guess I really have no other choice. I hate the way single mothers (parents) are portrayed as deadbeats who have nothing and make horrible parents. What about the single parents like me (not to toot my own horn but I'm proud of what I'm doing) who go to school and work and try to have a house and raise a child??? There seems to be no way to appease society. Not that I'm looking to do that but yea it does bother me. Alright I'm off my soapbox and going to get some work done.

what do you think?

:: 2005 31 January :: 8.39 am

*jules* says:
i just wanna know what your obsession is with foreign guys

I just want to know what your obsession with guys that look like turtles is......

5 comments | what do you think?

:: 2005 30 January :: 7.57 pm
:: Mood: cheerful

I'm going to Marrakech for spring break. Me and Mikhail. I am super excited even though it's a bit pricy but oh well I need to go and take care of things for my internship and I want to see Youssef. My mom was so against me taking Mikhail with but tonight she said, "You know if you're serious about going let's see if I can exchange the condo for a week in Marrakech. I would feel better if I knew you were staying somewhere really nice." Yea ok she is a little too paranoid but hell am I going to complain about staying in a 5 star condo? Umm I think not. Besides it was going to be cool to stay with Youssef's family but hello no time alone and they're so weird about showing affection in front of people. I am not flying to the other side of the world to be kissed a couple times - have to make the most of it! I am getting really excited about the whole thing - and I only have to wait like 6 weeks! Tomorrow I have a new week of school and a new class. I have 7 classes this semester - i'm crazy I know - that's why this vacation will be awesome. I have a quiz to take online so I need to do that before I go to bed. Yay for Morocco!!

2 comments | what do you think?

:: 2005 26 January :: 9.48 pm

Today was my first day of the semester. I had three classes and none of them should be excessively difficult however the grades are based on only a few tests and a project so that sort of sucks. I have to take my CI (Curriculm and Instruction) Methods class - the class that teaches me how to teach english to non-native speakers. I can only take it this semester and it's only offered from 4:30-7:30 on Thursday nights but I am suppose to work from 3:30-5:30 Thursday nights too. My supervisor said I can go to class for 5 as long as my prof. was ok with me being late. I e-mailed her and she responded "I guess you have no choice" wtf? If I don't take it this semester I have to wait another year to graduate. Why couldn't she just be nice about it? Not to mention the books for her class alone are over $150. Niiice. I called Youssef yesterday and we talked for a little while - it was really good to hear his voice. I wish I could have called tonight after my bad day but it was too late by the time I was done with class. Tomorrow I have class at 9:30-1:30, Work from 2:30-5 and then class from 5-7:30 I'm tired already. Wish me luck.

2 comments | what do you think?

:: 2005 24 January :: 3.33 pm

I spent the weekend at my dads - it was ok. Right now I'm in Milwaukee visiting my best friend and my sister is taking an admissions test at the university here. We are going to dinner soon. I got an e-mail from Youssef Saturday - it was so sweet. He called me his love, his angel. I don't know whether to take it serious or just brush it off. I really want to believe it even if it sounds crazy. I don't know...

what do you think?

:: 2005 20 January :: 3.08 pm
:: Music: Michael Buble

I'm in love....he called me mon cherie. I'll be in Morocco ;)

3 comments | what do you think?

:: 2005 17 January :: 6.52 pm
:: Mood: lonely
:: Music: some arabic meditative stuff

My literary endeavors...
She lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, listening to noises in her empty room. She looked at the clock as the irridescent yellow/green numbers flipped slowly... 2:23, 2:24, 2:25....She thought if she looked hard enough she could make them move. She tried to breathe, to remove all of the thoughts in her head, she looked back at the numbers, it was no use - she would spend another night sleepless. She heard a noise in the house, it was too loud to be in the apartment next to her. She listened closely, it was coming from her apartment. She felt her heart creep into her throat...what was she going to do? She grabbed the phone that was next to her bed and listened, her breathing getting heavy. It was coming up the stairs, she turned the phone on. Was she imagining this or was it real? She covered her head and held the phone in her trembling hands. The sound was getting closer...her door opened, she gasped. Pressing the buttons, hoping it would go away. "Baby, baby, baby shhhh" Who was that, it sounded so familiar. "I'm here baby shhh don't be scared." Her eyes were clenched shut and she didn't dare open them. She felt her covers move - she thought she was going to be killed. She felt him touch her arm, she was almost in tears. She inhaled deeply for what she thought was the last time and it hit her. She slowly opened her left eye but it was too dark. She inhaled again, it was. It was him. She started to cry. He wrapped his arms around her "Baby I'm sorry I wanted to surprise you not to scare you." She could not talk through her tears. He pulled her close and she could smell his deep exotic scent. Her heart was still in her throat. His large hands brushed her hair and he kissed her forhead. "I missed you baby, I had to see you." She had missed him too and could not believe she was getting this chance. She was still crying tears of happiness and he wiped each one away with his hand, kissing some of them away. There were so many things that she wanted to tell him, how happy she was that he was there, how sad she had been without him, how she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. But she couldn't get the words out. What she really wanted was a kiss, the kiss she had waited so long to recieve. She looked up into his big, brown eyes framed by long black eyelashes and felt her heart melt. They looked into each others eyes, as if their eyes were memorizing the others soul. He moved his hand from her hair and opened it, running his fingers down her forehead, over her eyes, down her cheek and gently using his thumb to trace her lips. As he reached her chin he gently began to pull her towards him. She held her breath as her lips nearly reached his. She anticipated the tingle she had felt everytime they had kissed. The feeling deep inside her that made her feel like they were the only people in the world and that moment was all that mattered. She anticipated the softness, the sensual feel of his lips. She anticipated wanting more than just a single kiss. She could feel his breath and she waited. Her eyes popped open. 2:46 She had fallen asleep for a few minutes. Of course it couldn't have been him could it? He'd been gone for a year....2:47

what do you think?

:: 2005 17 January :: 11.32 am

Weird, weird, weird
So I want to tell you a story about a driving experience last night. I was driving down the interstate with my sister. We were going to my mom's house which is about a half hour from my house. We always people watch because we get bored and like to giggle at people doing strange things. So, I passed this silver hybrid toyota and there was a guy driving. I went by fast and wasn't really paying too close attention to him. Ashley turns to me and says, "what was that guy eating? A popsicle or something? Christ it's like -20 out (it really was -20)" "No, I don't think so looked like a shoe." "It was not a shoe don't be ridiculous." So being the inquisitive people we are, I slowed down so that he could pass me again. As he's gaining we're waiting intently to see if he is still doing whatever he was doing. As he gets closer we look and sure enough IT'S A SHOE! A BLACK WOMAN'S HIGH HEELED SHOE. And this guy was not just like cleaning some spots off he is TONGUING this shoe, literally making out with it. Shoving the toe part into his mouth. Licking the heel. It was like a car accident - you don't want to look but you can't help it. Oh my god we were in such shock we could hardly laugh. What the hell was this guy doing?? We had to pass him again. Sure enough still making out with the shoe. We stayed in front and kept him in my rear view mirror until we exited. By this time we were in hysterics. I have never seen something so utterly strange in my entire life. Good thing he had a Minnesota license plate.....

3 comments | what do you think?

:: 2005 13 January :: 11.49 am
:: Mood: cold

More Photos
I said I would have more so here is round two!

I just think this is so cute!
Read more..

I'm still scanning so watch for more!

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:: 2005 12 January :: 10.14 am
:: Music: *gulp* Hanson....

Well my friends I would love to introduce you to...MOROCCO!

Here is me and Youssef - my almost husband. Even though I didn't want to get married I won't lie - this guy rocked my Moroccan world ;) haha!
Read more..

2 comments | what do you think?

:: 2005 11 January :: 8.51 am
:: Mood: artistic

Feminism in Islam
I'm redecorating my house. I was looking for some designs for fabrics and came across this story about the Blue People in Morocco. They are a group of Berbers (forgive me but after a vacation I'm always on a research kick of the place I just was - not to mention I'm doing a Moroccan themed bedroom...). The Blue People are called this because of a blue stone they use when dying fabric and it turns their bodies a tint of blue. The coolest thing though is that it's a matriarchical society, even though they are Muslims.
The Blue People have a matriarchal society: unusual enough in terms of "Western" cultures, almost unbelievable in context of what is assumed to be "Islamic". Women keep all the household keys, show off their "strength" by impromptu wrestling matches, go unveiled - while the men modestly cover their noses and mouths with the end of their tagelmousses (several meters of gauze, wrapped around the head in a turban), and have equal - if not greater rights to choose/take as many lovers as they wish before marriage: it only increases their value, skill and desirability. Why do Blue men, feared to this day for their ferocity and skill as warriors and respected as businessmen, "veil" and defer to their own women? Because of their belief that the world has a great number of evil "spirits" eager to invade the body via any opening - especially the mouth and nostrils, so they must cover/protect the entranceways, but since women know the secret of life: only they can conceive and givebirth, they have natural protection against these evil spirits.

I just thought this was awesome. Go girls!!!

2 comments | what do you think?

:: 2005 11 January :: 7.19 am
:: Mood: creative
:: Music: News

I just need to write...
I'm sitting on the terrace of the house right now. The king's palace is over one side with the snowy mountains in the background. The sun is starting to go down and I can hear fireworks exploding in the distance. People fill the streets because the king is in Marrakech and it's New Year's Eve. I can smell the grills and the call for prayer has just begun. I see palm trees waving in the wind, the sun is sinking fast and it is starting to get cold. I really realize how differing things are. *sighs* I'm still going through withdrawls. Danielle, you might just be in trouble now because with the way things look right now I might be writing in here all the time. I really want to sit down and write a story - at least about the Moroccan Love Affair but when I try to do it, I just can't seem to get going. I worry too much about the details. I am excited because today I get back the pictures from the trip ( soon to be added onto here). Maybe that will help me start writing. Today I need to get some things done. I have a lot of calls to make and need to do them before I go back to school and work again. I still have three weeks of vacation before I start the next semester - the semester of hell as I affectionately refer to it. 17 credits.....argh eesh... I'm doubting myself. I hate these slumps when I feel sorry for myself or think I can't do things. I hate that feeling. Right now I think I am just really emotional. I feel really alone, like I could be in a room full of people and still be alone. Eh poor me - no more complaining. Pictures in a few hours!!!

what do you think?

:: 2005 10 January :: 1.49 pm
:: Mood: bouncy

Entry 1 - but not the last
So I finally signed up for this thing after consistent prodding from someone *winks not mentioning names......* I promised that I would write more than one time and then stop - my resolution for the New Year, be persistent. I just came home a day (and a half?) ago from Morocco. So now that my house is back in order and I have a little time before I run about, I have begun my first entry. I've been sitting around the last few days in a haze, thinking about my trip, remembering things and as always having withdrawls, wanting to be back. It was interesting because of how apprehensive I became before I left, thinking about being in a Muslim country - how we would be treated and such. But now I am longing to be back. Life was so much slower, people so much warmer, life was just to be lived and that is what people did. It could not have been more welcoming. I thought it was really interesting that people on the street randomly would call me Fatima, and it sort of confused me so I did some googling when I came home. I knew that they sold charms of the Hand of Fatima and that it was meant to give protection (so I bought one because it's really pretty). So this is what I got from my research:
The Hand of Fatima ( Fatma - daughter of Prophet Mohammed )

Throughout northern Africa, Turkey, and in other parts of the Middle East, Muslims wear the necklace and , "Hand of Fatima" , as a jewellery and also for superstitious protection. Fatima was the daughter of the Prophet Muhammad who married Ali, the nephew of the Prophet. From their descendants Shi'a Muslims claim a direct line of authority over Muslims. Miracles were attributed to Fatima, such as when she prayed in the desert, it started raining. She is described as a faithful, holy woman.

Its romantic story is as follows: One day Lady Fatima (daughter of the Holy Prophet Mohammed) was cooking helva ( halvah ) (the texture is like a dry oath meal , with sugar and butter in it . They use semalina as the main ingredient . ) in a pan in the garden when suddenly the door opened and her husband the caliph Ali entered along with the new bride. ( Islam allowed four times marriage to man ) concubine (slave-girl), she was deeply grieved and u the wooden stirring spoon in confusion dropped from her hand and unaware , she continued stirring the halvah with her hand. Because of the grief in her heart she never even felt the pain of her hand mixing the hot halvah. However, when her husband hurried to her side and exclaimed in surprise "What are you doing there, Fatima?" she felt her hand burning and the pain. Thus it is from that day on the hand of the Lady Fatima has been used in the Islamic world as a symbol of patience, abundance, and faithfulness, and thus it is that girls and women wearing this necklace from whose end the hands hang believe the hands of Lady Fatima will bring them good luck, abundance and patience."

The story continues ; the bride and Ali as the groom go into their wedding room . The house is wooden , and Fatima can not stop herself from looking through a tiny little hole of a room from the second floor. And when Ali leans over the bride ,from that tiny hole , Fatima's tear drops to his shoulder , which stops him.

So , the necklace of Fatima ,rather popular in Islamic countries is formed of peaces shaped after a teae drop. The Ethnographical Museums of Turkey havr fine examples . Fatima was the daughter of the prophet Mohammed, but in fact this hand has been around before Islam, and there is still much right hand-left hand magic in Morocco. The left hand is for doing bad things; it also protects against the evil eye if you put it palm up in front of you (so naturally that's an insulting thing to do to someone, implying they have the evil eye).

Well now that I know it was a good thing I feel better and more educated. I leave with my thoughts that I found in a song:

"The air was heavy and sweet, you and I on a crowded street. There was musiceverywhere, I can see us there. In a happy little foreign town with the stars hung upside down. Half a world away, far, far away. I remember, you were laughing, we were so in love, we were so in love. The band played songs we had never heard but we danced anyway. We never understood the words we just sang. And we danced anyway."

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