Prison Breaks and Other Over-used Dysphemisms

I spent nine weeks this summer in an intensive Arabic school. All students were required to sign a pledge vowing to speak nothing but Arabic for the duration of those nine weeks, were forced to live in dorms and compelled to eat three meals a day in the on-campus dining hall while listening to music only in Arabic and never so much as cracking a newspaper not in that particular language. The location was lovely, but then again so is Alcatraz.So when I occassionally called the program "prison," and/or "Arabic jail," I was clearly making said reference affectionately, and if you disagree, well I just can't understand you - could you please repeat that in Arabic?

While in prison, I took part in various leisure activities, the most thrilling of which was calligraphy club. I was the rockstar of that particular organization (if groups of people drawing silently in a room can have rockstars), and found in the activity both a passion for a new kind of drawing and an excellent procrastination tool. Calligraphy club was on the same day as our weekly test so I was able to legitimate my lack of desire to actually study with the fact that I needed to create elaborate calligraphic works which occasionally included painted flowers.

Here I am with the calligraphy teacher and our end-of-the-summer show:

The fact that this particular prison was hometown adjacent allowed me to enjoy several furloughs and a few prison breaks. There were life changing ceremonies (weddings, birthdays) I had to attend (the lives changed may or may not have been my own), and also sporting events!



First I celebrated the marriage of my previous Guest Photographer, and since she had not hired a photographer I was able to seize the tables and then turn them, taking more photographs in one day than I have ever done before (but not more than GP, who, if I remember correctly, took about 500 photos a day while she was visiting me in Egypt). And since I was a bride's maid (I do not know how to say "bride's maid" in Arabic. The closest alternative I could come up with is "friend of the bride," which has far less impact. But I know how to say "wedding," so this parenthetical is not a complete loss), I was able to wear an elaborate and expensive dress. . . once I managed to get it on. Since I remain unable to don said dress without several assistants and at least half and hour of whining, I may have to wait until my own wedding to look that good again.



On my furlong I discovered an uncanny ability to look goofy in photographs. Aided in part by my new passion for posing (heart pose is my first love, and I also respect the salute and find tranquility in the peace sign), I attended a birthday cocktail shindig and then Mary Poppins party where I expressed my support for women's suffrage and also for scones.



Finally, in a bow to corporate sponsorship, I hosted today a soy-themed tea party for which guests were encouraged to dress either as stereotypical 1950s housewives, or as their favorite vegetables. There were prizes involved (provided by my alluded-to-but-unnamed sponsor), and so the more whimsical guests came with multiple costume changes.

These first two guests took the third, secret costume option and decided merely to look beautiful. Cheaters.



Those of us in costume did our best to incorporate elaborate headgear.



Also provided: vegan and normal tea sandwiches. By normal, of course, I mean vegetarian. This party was in Berkeley, after all.



And as a party favor I attempted to foist my work from calligraphy club on my hapless guests; I had (and still have) quite a voluminous pile of pieces. As it turns out, I am pretty good at Arabic and good at calligraphy but really excellent at procrastination.