Rain

It's always wonderful when it rains in Southern California. Mainly because it happens so rarely. Life slows down, as if straining to listen, to memorize, the soft rhythm of the raindrops.
Rohan goes, "Raink, raink!"
Raina rushes out, arms aloft and wide, an eager recipient for what the dark clouds may bring. The world greys and glistens, while we dance.
Lights turn on in the daytime, echoing the warm glows inside us. We huddle close, listen to music. I drink tea, and more tea. The kids nap because they feel like napping. And I blog, finally, after months.

LV4FUN

Now, if I had one of those vanity license plates that adorn almost every car in Southern California, it'd probably say something like above. If it wasn't taken already, i.e. All the fun ones usually are. So if one's going to go through the completely unnecessary expense of having one, it might be worthwhile to really rack the brain and get some creative juice flowing. It should have a point, right? If in these economic times, one decides that a vanity plate is a luxury one can't do without, surely it's worth some effort? Better yet, one can pay someone to come up with something zany, thereby creating jobs and providing that much needed boost the economy needs. Better than a taxpayer bailout. Must write to Obama.

Anyhoo, before I digress any further, the reason why I'm writing about this:

So I was dropping Raina off to preschool this morning and there's this car before me. Really nice black BMW SUV, if you like SUVs that is. Which I don't, but that's neither here nor there. And this really nice BMW had this Arizona vanity plate that read VERYHOT. Really? Now what exactly is really hot? Is it the car (which I may have already mentioned is really nice)? Or the driver? The occupants? Or is it just a reference to the Arizona weather? I've heard it's hot in Arizona. Very hot.

So dude, if you're reading this, a word of advice: If you're going to spend money on a vanity plate, surely you can talk about something more interesting than the weather. Right now, all your vanity plate says about you is that you're dull. Boring. A vanity plate is a good accessory, so make sure it's a clear style statement about you. Coz it's all about you and your vanity, don't you know?

We've Moved!

Deets and pix to follow!

Huh?

Seen on the vanity license plate of a black BMW convertible driven by a gorgeous brunette on a balmy Southern California evening: "IMSMELY." ????

NDN

If you've ever seen the above decal on U.S. cars, you may have wondered what it means, like me. Last week, I found out. My friend D was visiting from my all-time fave American metro NYC, and she and I went to Anaheim Hills to grab haircuts. Our hair was treated by this amazingly nice hairstylist, who at first glance, appeared as desi as they come.

So while he shampooed my hair, I asked him if he was Indian. He guffawed out loud, saying no one had said that to him before. He wasn't Indian, but NDN (pronounced like the letters) aka American Indian, which he prefers to the "corny" native American. His family has both Kumeyaay (tribe from San Diego) and Chumash (Santa Barbara) blood, and he himself is married to an Apache from New Mexico.

He was discernably proud of his heritage, and I asked him something that had been on my mind for a long time. "Don't you -- and other native Americans -- mind being referred to as 'Indian'?" He shook his head, saying that American Indians had made the term part of their identity a long time ago. He also told me a little of the history behind the word, as he understood it:

Apparently, Christopher Columbus who's credited with "discovering" America for Queen Isabella of Spain was Italian. So his Spanish, apparently, wasn't too hot, and in his journal, he wrote about discovering the children of God in America -- "in Dios" -- which somehow got corrupted to Indian. Also, he'd believed he'd reached India. So it was a combination of factors, he said.

Don't know how far this is true. But I finally get NDN.