I’m an East Coast girl, a Yankee in the South, and “not from here” in the North, currently Philadelphia. My body lives in the city, my mind somewhere preferably with fields.
A frantic reader, plowing through as many as 5 books a week. But, you know, sometimes I have to stop and change some poopy diapers. I’m a lover of words, a reader of dictionaries, particularly fond of archaic, hilarious words that no one uses anymore but totally should, “Drat! I be out of crudwort!” Because sometimes I talk like a British sailor in my head. Or Elvis.
I’m Muslim and a lonely hijabi. Where are my hijabi peeps? Must I be the only girly trundling the tough city streets paying the hijabi tax?
The diplomatic gene is missing in my dna, as well as a few other woman things. Can I decorate? Ha! Listen without trying to fix? NO! Nurture naturally? Wha? I better read up on that. But I can lay some tile, operate power tools, and call my husband Dude. Which he really loves because it makes him feel like he’s married to one of the guys.
I can feel someone behind me from across the room. Going against my conscience makes me barf, literally. At some point, I know I have to stop fighting and leave it up to Allah. Artichokes, nom nom nom. My idea of heaven is a stream, books, and…cigarettes. Without the black lungs, duh. It’s been so long, but I can still taste their evil deliciousness. I believe in living, even when it feels like surviving. I believe in responsibility, and if it’s at all possible, handing off a light to the next willing person climbing up that narrow path in the dark.
Here is my personal blog.
All of Allumer’s posts can be found here.