What should I be doing?

If I decide on peace, have I forsaken my roots? Will my father hate me? Will he say I sided with the enemy? The enemy which stole his house and exiled him forever from the streets of his childhood? If I decide on peace, have I forsaken the struggle for justice? Will my friends hate me? Will they say I have surrendered to a sugar coated Western project?
And so I read a proverb today: If you do what you've always done, you'll get what you've always gotten. What should we be doing differently?
What areas are we all unwilling to consider? What are options that can change a 60 year old status quo? (Or has it been longer?)

Faithful Branding

He'brew
The Chosen
Beer

Non smoking city

Welcome to New York
Could I see some ID please?
Take it as a compliment mam,
cause you sure don't look your age.

And I'm in New York, at 33
not quite as young as...
and I look around me
trying to find fire
in a non smoking city.

Surely there must be
a man with fire here,
surely that which you hold
is a smoking gun,
surely this is smoke I see...

And the only fire I know
is asleep, where I come from.
6:00 a.m. in Beirut.
Sir,
could you spare a match?

Confusion is a state of lights

I don't think there's a single visitor/resident of New York who hasn't seen this at least once in the past week. And although it's pretty common, I think everybody pauses, takes out his/her phone and snaps a pic, because for some reason, it resonates with everyone in the same way. This is a crazy, confusing, contradictory city. (But we love it, we confess.)

Happiness at 14 degrees (celsius)

I looked at weather.com and found that it was 14 degrees outside. I ran out (practically naked), to indulge in a long (complete) cigarette that did not entail my fingers freezing. I realize that I complain a lot about the weather, but really, my system was not made for this climate, and I find that as long as I manage to leave the house and fight winter depression, I've already accomplished a lot. 14 degrees! Ah music to my ears. I think I'll go out and have another ciggie.

NY story fragments

Apologies

For the really nasty format. The designer in me suffers tremendously, but until I learn how to do my own digital designing this will have to do. Especially when I decide to create a second blog at 3 am.

The cold part 2

So I went out as usual, to smoke my cigarette.
My left hand froze, and I moved the cigarette to my right hand.
It was around noon.
I was wrapped in my best winter apparatus (yes yes apparatus,
specifically chosen, almost military defense-like).
And it was -3 degrees, -9 with wind chill factor.
And half a cigarette later, I walk back into the building.
The doorman says: It's getting cold, eh?
(I acquiesce silently.)
Winter is coming soon, he continues.
I think that's when I really froze. Winter? Ah yes! Winter!
That which begineth on the 21st of DECEMBER!
This isn't winter yet... This is still fall.

The cold

The cold, the cold, the cold, the cold,
the cold, the cold, the cold, and the cold,
the cold, the cold, the, the,
ah yes! the cold.... the hunger and the cold.

NY conversation fragments

14th Street Station, waiting for the L train to take me West.
Young (teenager?) Latina girl tells young black girl:
-Did I ever tell you I dated an Elvis impersonator?
- You byyaaaaaatch!

Labneh à New York

Labneh. Staple of my lovely Mediterranean diet. So elusive in New York. My cousin said, I could find some, if I walk ten to fifteen blocks South. I shake my head, disappointed. In this cold?
So for the first post, here's a little story from my Facebook account, sorry for those who've read it already. This is the Lebanese Cuisine experience at Moustache:
The tabbouleh is not tabbouleh. It wants to grow up to be tabbouleh, once its ingredients mature ... and mix. But more importantly: the Labneh! The Labneh needs mili7. And the lovely blond waitress asks gently: Would you like some pita with your Labneh? - Yes! Walaw! I answer (inno duh bi shou bakela?) And so the waitress then asks: Would that be plain or whole wheat?
!!
Halla2 the upside is that I got Almaza for dinner.

Moustache: 90 Bedford St., New York, NY 10014