Generosity by an Iraqi woman.

The other week, I was far away in a different part of the city than I usually am, and since there's a lot of (middle easterners) in the neighborhood, I stopped to have kebabs, and then popped into an ethnic food shop to browse.

After I picked out some fig jam as a gift for my one (half Sudanese) (half British) friend (the brother of the sister pair; the brother has a sweet tooth), for the next time he has me over for dinner, I noticed that one vegetable jar in the half-off section had a loose cap, so I took that up to the (young middle-aged) (middle eastern) counterwoman.

She thanked me a lot, and then when I asked her about brands of fig jam, she recommended that I go with another one, since the kind I got was too thick and it was just too sweet.

So, she took me back over into the aisle I had been in and showed me the better brand, and then she said that it went really well with this cream, which interested me, though I said that I wouldn't be buying it since my friend is vegan and the jam was for him.

First, she said, "Nice gift!".

Then, she said, "Here, try some cream," and went to the refrigerator to pull some out.

"Oh no, you don't have to do that!", I was like.

"No, please," she was like.  "I need some for home, I'll open it here, you can try some."

It was like a cream cheese, but less sweet and a bit richer.

"Thanks a lot!", I was like.

"Isn't it good?", she was like.  "It's great with the jam."

As I checked out, then, we introduced ourselves.

She's originally from Iraq.

Unexpectedly nice part of one of my part-time jobs.

It feels so much more real, to be in the main building and the library of a community college.

The students look like real people, as opposed to the kids that I usually teach at my (elite) college.

It's very, very comfortable, and I like it.

A dream of Boston.

The other week, I dreamnt -

I was looking at a picture on Facebook, and a friend had something like a livestream photo, looking upwards between glass skyscrapers in Boston's financial district, and way high up there was a glass-encased skyway connecting buildings, and beyond that, the sky; no streets or trees were visible.

I realized, too, when I looked at the photo, that this was somewhere near the 32nd street subway stop.

. . .

Midwest dialectic item.

I've noticed that I put a lot of one-syllable past participles into forms with an "-en" on the end, like "boughten" or "caughten" (which I'm assuming morphologically levels them to be like "gotten"?).

The other month, I was talking with a (college-age) (Mexican-American) guy, who was born and raised in Chicago.

He said, "I should have broughten a phone charger."

...! ! !...

My apartment's still not clean.

Somehow I thought that after getting my dissertation done, I'd easily find time to clean my apartment top-to-bottom.

Instead, I haven't.

With catching up with friends, I haven't found time.

Between juggling 3-4 jobs, I haven't found time.

With campaign duties, I haven't found time.

Then, on top of all of that, campaign duties tire me out, so when I *do* have time, I'm usually too tired!

It'll get done at some point, though.

"Prioritize."

Observation of a (Sicilian) doctoral student on my family biography...

...when I told her my father's immigration story, the ethnic history of my mom's family, etc.:

"How complicated."

She then said that she always thinks that whenever she hears American biographies, because with her own family, everyone was always from Sicily on both sides.

She said, too, that everyone in her family wasn't very educated until very recently, and that the older women in her family couldn't even sign their own names.

Bicycling sight, of another bicyclist.

The other week I was biking into work on my morning commute, and I see a (very old) (Chinese) man without a helmet on, slowly biking in a slightly wobbly line.

As I pass him, I hear a child's voice, so I turn my head, and he has a little girl sitting across the handlebars, and he's biking both of them along and talking to her at the same time.