From Um to Om to Ohms

Hello party people. It's been a few minutes longer than a really long time since I added any stories to this blog. I do apologize. So much has happened since May 2009. I didn't write because I didn't know where to start. But, as the great Master Yoda says: "Do or don't. There is no try." So, I start at the present and I'll add a montage of back-story as we carry on in the current happenings. So, with no further adieu...

From Um to Om to Ohms

"Um" is the Arabic word for "mother." In tradition, when a woman gives birth, her given name is replaced with the title Um (first born child's name), as in Um Yousef, or Um Sherifa. However, if Yousef is born after Sherifa and her sisters, Shuruq, Farah and Sarah, her title changes again to reflect the first son's name. In this way she pays respect to her future caretaker and decision-maker for the family when her husband has passed on. That's a little something I learned in the last three years. Maybe you already knew about that, but it was news to me. Hey mom, if you're reading this, prepare to be called Um Ryan at least once in the near future.

Now there is both time and distance between me and Kuwait, I am grateful for everything I gained, everything I lost, and people I met while I lived on those rich and polluted shores.

I went forth with our crazy plan to quit our good jobs, stacking papers as they say--making the big money--and I am now enrolled in the Aviation Maintenance program at Tarrant County College NW Campus. I am in a building of mechanic students, sandwiched between the police academy and the largest firefighters training facility in the area. A shout out to all my single, lady friends: If you're looking for some hearty, useful, good-ol-boys, come find me at TCC. I'll give you a tour. By the time we walk from the front door to the hangar door, everyone will know your name and wonder if we're married. Those boys spread gossip faster than a prayer chain and anyone seen talking to me runs the risk of being rumored as my "more-than-friend."

The similarity of Ohm and om is about the only visible connection that can be made between my two opposing lives as founder of a yoga non-profit and an aviation mechanic student. Ohm, as in Ohm's Law which defines the relationship between power, current, resistance and voltage; and "Ooooommmm," as in the origin of sound, often recited three times at the beginning and end of a yoga session.

How does one reconcile the vast scape from yogini to mechanic? Well, for the first week or so I had a strange sort of insomnia wherein during sleep my brain tried desperately to find a connection between my yoga knowledge and the incoming aviation information. I would wake up assigning part numbers to yoga poses and categorizing muscle groups into NPN or PNP transistors. It was maddening. I got over that and now I'm devising a series of yoga articles based on the principles of electrical circuit resistors. Stay tuned for those...

Overall, life is good. We are at the very limit of how long we can go without income, but Doug is just about to save the day with a job doing what he does best: Webmastering. The interview was yesterday, it went great, they said "he's our man" and now it's just a matter of waiting and wading through the paperwork. We've had about six months to resettle into the American Life. We moved to Fort Worth, TX, bought a Ford and got a dog. He's a 6-month old boxer puppy, aptly named Ruckus.

Today my schedule looks like this:
Wake up around 7:00-7:30am, take dog out.
Make espresso in my Italian stove-top espresso pot while Doug makes a delicious breakfast.
Watch an episode of Dead Like Me from 2004 on Netflix Live.
Update the the DCY website: www.dirtcheapyoga.com.
Open an early birthday presents from Doug and Ruckus. Highlights: The Zen of Zombie: Better Living Through the Undead. and piano sheet music for MUSE and Fiona Apple.
Write a personal blog.
Write a DCY blog.
Take Ruckus out again and then go to the gym.
Write a Examiner article about neti pots.
Attend Basic Electricity class at 5:30pm.
Celebrate my 11th wedding anniversary a few days early with Doug and a romantic late dinner in Fort Worth.
Take Ruckus out and let him play with his best friend and neighbor, Poncho, the pit-bull.
Have a nightcap or two and call it a night.

Not a bad day. And it not a bad life to live and learn from Um, Ohm, and om.