...mais qu'est-ce que je fus la...

Nobody commented on my post about the "better me plan". This means one of two things:

i) you didn't care enough
ii) you, like Nick and Derek, think it will not last. or that I will fail in the attempt.

I did something really difficult today - I had a conversation with someone who I have not really spoken to in 5 months, if I am honest with myself. I managed to keep the conversation completely untainted of any glibness or snide commentary on my part, and it was genial and funny. Afterwards I felt really good because I felt vindicated over something which had worn me down previously, and I knew that for the first time in a long time he left that conversation not wondering if I hated him or if I was playing some strange mind trick. I swear to God it wore me out though - no more than 5 minutes, but I was just mentally exhausted, after.

Today was generally an exhausting day, to tell you the truth. Earlier I had a conversation with Janet and Ashley about Iran. It started off innocently enough - I found a videotape of old Persian music videos. That turned into me explaining about the revolutionary message behind some of the songs. Which turned into a discussion of Iranian political history since 1945. Two hours later, I felt I had sufficiently explained to Janet the reasons for things being the way they are, the best hope of change, and key players and historical data.

I find that often when I am in a discussion about Iran, it turns into a long affair to explain fifty years of history that culminated in the nation being the way it is. Sometimes the tone is apologetic but often I feel this great need to explain. To explain and make sure that my friends understand, to dispel the belief of Iran as a primitive backward state. Is this just me?

Naturally after I do this, they all think I am a politically minded radical with neo-communist sentiments.

Last week my aunt held a dinner party in Oakville. After dinner when the conversation usually turns to politics, this night instead it turned to memories of the air-strikes during the war. They don't usually talk war. I remember a few weeks ago I had three end-of-the-world nightmares in one week. Dreams of buildings collapsing instantly, darkness everywhere, and a war that I knew was coming. I don't usually talk war. Sometimes I have this fear in my gut that things are going to spiral out of control. I hear reports of US saying they wouldn't count out air strikes in their campaign to stop Iran's nuclear aims, and I get scared.


Tu me manque, ce soir. Tes bras, tes gestes, tes yeux - tout ceux qui me faisaient comprendre que tout aura bien. Un mur d'un autre sort...