What To Expect When Traveling with Your Arab Wife
When they ask you
How many days were you away?
Don’t say two weeks
They want to know the exact number
Tell them 11 days
When they ask you
Do you have any food
in your luggage?
Don’t say no
Tell them we have a sealed package
of dates in our suitcase
When they ask what you do
Don’t say I’m an architect
Give them your exact title
Are you listening?
How many days were we away?
11 days
Do you remember when we got married?
A long time ago
Tell them the exact date
When they search our bags
Don’t be upset when they pull out your underwear
They’ve done it to me before
–even the dirty ones
When they hold them up high
Don’t worry
They will drop them and then you can pick them up
–but only when they tell you to
When they open my lipsticks one by one
Don’t worry, they won’t break them
I can pack them after they unpack them
When they take us into that room
Don’t worry
They will let us leave eventually
When they take away our cellphones
Don’t worry
They will give them back
When they are rude
Don’t worry
they are like that to all of us

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The craft of knitting is such a prominent literary act that a subgenre of literature—called “knit-lit”—has formed. Within this subgenre, there are several motifs, including what is colloquially referred to as “the sweater curse”: the idea that when someone knits a garment for their love interest, the act will seal the demise of their relationship. Knitting a garment by hand is a deeply intimate act, which perhaps explains why authors are attracted to its symbolic potential. Knitting also has an unassuming quality. The act evokes peace and domestic tranquility, and it is often employed to convey these sentiments. A knitter can become a vehicle for change, too, propelling a story forward through their handicraft. A character may weave intricate narrative webs, sometimes suggesting warmth or safety, and other times disguising the places where heartbreak, deceit, and evil may lie. If you look for them, you’ll find them—somebody in the corner, knitting a hat or a scarf, quite possibly something containing the depths of their affections or, just as probable, the names of the people they wish dead.
Wait for tea to cool before drinking it, avoid all alcohol, crowds, reading, writing letters, wear warm clothes in the evening, eat rhubarb from time to time, have a napkin at breakfast, remember notebook.” These memoranda, as recorded in Lesley Chamberlain’s Nietzsche in Turin, capture the regime Friedrich Nietzsche followed in that city, in the last of his many lodgings during his wanderings across Europe. He loved long walks, but any interruption of routine was as toxic for him as bad food, so he avoided fashionable cafés and promenades. Even a bookshop was off-limits for fear of bumping into an acquaintance who might want to talk about Hegel. He needed, above all, a quiet life.
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