Six Degrees of Blogeration Updated and Revisited

Rule -- degrees are established by one live person actually meeting, laying eyes upon, hugging, or clobbering another live person. * indicates blurker or blogguest status

First Degree

Baji -- Lil Baji*, Cybermom*, TP*, Chai, H-Biddy, Musicalchef, Ismo, Broheme, Ushi, Slowmar, Gunnar and Mothman*. (me relatives)

Baji -- Abez, DeGrouchyOwl [collectively, "the Zistahs"], Chan, Najm, Upyernoz, Gojira, Keltie, Noozles, Lamisse* (a.k.a. LaMushy), and Taha* (a.k.a 2 Scoops)

and the new additions: Hijabman (a year ago) and Chat&Chai (today!). (me crew)

Second Degree

Baji -- Chai or the Zistahs -- Karrvakarela, Waleed , da Momma, Poppie , MnM, Lil Gray Crayon, Knicq

Baji -- (LB* or Lamisse*) -- Yasmine, Somayya, and Chocoholic

Baji -- The O Bros -- Akrites

Third Degree

Baji -- the Zistahs -- Poppie -- Usual Suspect and Anju

Fourth Degree

Baji -- Najm -- [Safia or Ayan, but nobody's met Ayan, or come on there's gotta be someone!] -- Shaheen

Did I miss anyone?

Yay! Thanks to the heads up from KG, I'm going to buy this disc and spin it!



Okay, I know, that's a Pixies lyric and not Radiohead, but it fits. If I like it, or more accurately if ZP likes it, I'll report back and recommend it or trash it. Stay tuned and rock on!

T minus one week until I return to work. Until then, I'm trying to cram in as much stuff as I can since Cybermom is here to help.

New driver's license reflecting new address - check. Granted, I hadn't showered or cleaned up much for the new picture since I thought they were just going to use my old picture that they had stored digitally, but the DMV loves to throw ya for a loop, no? Thank goodness it was in the pleasant, air-conditioned Georgetown location instead of the crummy, hot, cranky-staffed Judiciary Square one.

Shopping for new clothes - check. Got some dressy shirts and cozy cords to wear back to work which should last all of about a week or so before I revert to my jeans and t-shirts because if I can get away with it, why not?! (interro-slacker!)

Haircut - check. I haven't had my haircut since the winter months and since I wasn't willing to shell out $50 for a simple straight cut and don't like making appointments, I had my MIL cut my hair. The only thing was that getting my locks cut in the garden outside resulted in multiple mosquito bites which I could have done without.

Organize ZP's room which has, from the day we moved in, doubled as a large storage closet - work in progress. Maybe tomorrow I'll sort through everything. Maybe not.

Take daily pix of ZP to send to Cybermom and dad - check. Here is the latest of my wee monster post-bath looking a bit Arabic according to some:




and this one is fresh off the press:



Go to a few concerts - check. Only two more free summer ones left!

Watch as much Colbert Report, Good Eats, and Reno 911 as I can - check. But I swear, if I see another one of those male enhancement ads, I'll put my foot through the tv. The music alone is enough to make me change the channel.

Take naps - check. Although, I think another one is scheduled for right about now. Ciao!

With Cybermom happy to monster-sit ZP, LB and I hit the Leesburg Outlet mall where I treated myself to a pair of these beauts:



As light as tissue and as orange as the fruit, it was my favorite purchase. And yes, I got it on sale. :)

For Yaz - The history of "Chappals"

So, in 2000, our good buddy KK (the original KK, not to be confused with the new KK whom we admire equally but have never laid eyes on) was graduating from med school on Saba Island. Always looking for an excuse to travel some place new, we accepted the invitation to his graduation and flew to St. Martin/St. Maarten. One day, my dad, KK, LB, and I went for a quick hike while we waited for the teeny tiny charter plane to take us from Saba to St. Martin.

We headed over to the lava rocks to get a closer view of the water. The volcanic rocks were crazy jagged and sharp so while the rest of us were clamboring over them confidently in our comfortable sneakers, LB was gingerly picking her way along because (fashion plate that she is) she was wearing these stylish platform flip flops.

After a while, it became apparent that she was lagging wayyy behind and in order to hurry her along, KK called out: "Come on, Chappals, let's go!" Hence her nickname, one of many. So when I learned about Neighborhoodies from KG a few years ago, I made the moniker official by getting it printed on a t-shirt for her. The end.

Whenever there is a horrible 'splosion; whereever crime's foul stink waves rise; whomever dares to challenge the delicate senses of upstanding citizens, Diapoman will be there. Here's the lil' superhero tuckered out after a full day of fighting evil-doers, ensuring justice prevails, and saving the day . . .




*Superhero cape/bib courtesy of LB and KG*

I can't believe it's almost August. How my life has changed in mid-May. With the brutal heat we've had this summer and extenuating circumstances requiring close proximity to the fridge, the bed, and the bathroom, I've spent most of my days inside the house with "The Beast" - tending to his needs, watching a bit of cable, and trying to sneak in a nap or wolf down some food here and there. I'm luckier than some in that ZP is healthy, happy, and actually sleeps at night rather than all day long and that TP's office is close enough that he can, on occassion, come home for lunch and relieve me long enough to shower or eat. It will be strange when, in a few weeks, I'll be returning to work part-time and then full-time. I'm a bit nervous about it. Will I remember anything about trademark law at all? Will I be able to bear being away from my baby for so long? Will I have any free time in my life after this? It's all so up in the air right now. I guess time will tell. Wish me luck!

Yay for Chai's and Literaunty's visit this weekend - they made excellent babysitters and chefs. And yay for Uncle Y's surprise visit as well - he made a great arm chair (literarily) for ZP. And yay for ZP for braving his doctor's visit despite the indignity of getting totally undressed and man-handled and also getting jabbed three times with a needle.

MIL and FIL came to visit this weekend. [radio edit]. We got along nicely and now, before you know it, like Kaiser Soze (*puff*), they're gone.

I think you'll agree that my wee one has gotten the monkey part of his robot monkey pirate heritage down pat. Just gotta work on the robot and pirate parts. Please send all bionic parts and eyepatches to DC pronto. That is all.

The beast sleeps! Only have time enough for bullet points. Ready, go:

• Still in the process of unpacking and arranging the house, but managed to get some artwork on the walls, the books semi-organized, and found 100 euros in a French phrase book!
• Managed to go to a birthday party with ZP and had a good time, good food, and hand-me-downs galore.
• Speaking of "galore," am reading "The Princess Bride" to ZP and am enjoying it as much as he seems to be.
• Haven't gotten my hair cut since the winter months but once Cybermom returns, plan to do so, along with some clothes shopping, some lunching, and some napping.
• In response to my varied propositions for things to do, TP's latest favest phrase in response is "Insha'Zain."
• Was so pleased this weekend when TP was home and I got to have coffee (decaf, but still), make pancakes, and shower in the morning.
• ZP slept for an unbelieveable 5 hours last night and we are still reeling from shock. I pray there is a repeat performance tonight.
• Too bloody hot outside these days to take our evening strolls but hope to do so again soon. ZP loves going out for rides in his diapomobile.

Hey, ZP, how are ye? Everything copasetic? Cool. Guess what today is . . .





















It's your daddy's birthday! And guess what else!

















It's your Uncle Najm's birthday too!

















Not to mention: Bastille Day! Celebrate! Party! Cannolis!


















Awww, tuckered out little beast. Happy birthday, boys!

Ook ook! Ook ook eeh eeh ah ah! Etc. Monkey baby and baby monkey. Mine is the one on the left.

Lamentations of the Father

by Ian Frazier

Of the beasts of the field, and of the fishes of the sea, and of all foods that are acceptable in my sight you may eat, but not in the living room. Of the hoofed animals, broiled or ground into burgers, you may eat, but not in the living room. Of the cloven-hoofed animal, plain or with cheese, you may eat, but not in the living room. Of the cereal grains, of the corn and of the wheat and of the oats, and of all the cereals that are of bright color and unknown provenance you may eat, but not in the living room. Of the quiescently frozen dessert and of all frozen after-meal treats you may eat, but absolutely not in the living room. Of the juices and other beverages, yes, even of those in sippy-cups, you may drink, but not in the living room, neither may you carry such therein. Indeed, when you reach the place where the living room carpet begins, of any food or beverage there you may not eat, neither may you drink.

But if you are sick, and are lying down and watching something, then may you eat in the living room.

Laws When at Table

And if you are seated in your high chair, or in a chair such as a greater person might use, keep your legs and feet below you as they were. Neither raise up your knees, nor place your feet upon the table, for that is an abomination to me. Yes, even when you have an interesting bandage to show, your feet upon the table are an abomination, and worthy of rebuke. Drink your milk as it is given you, neither use on it any utensils, nor fork, nor knife, nor spoon, for that is not what they are for; if you will dip your blocks in the milk, and lick it off, you will be sent away. When you have drunk, let the empty cup then remain upon the table, and do not bite it upon its edge and by your teeth hold it to your face in order to make noises in it sounding like a duck; for you will be sent away.

When you chew your food, keep your mouth closed until you have swallowed, and do not open it to show your brother or your sister what is within; I say to you, do not so, even if your brother or your sister has done the same to you. Eat your food only; do not eat that which is not food; neither seize the table between your jaws, nor use the raiment of the table to wipe your lips. I say again to you, do not touch it, but leave it as it is. And though your stick of carrot does indeed resemble a marker, draw not with it upon the table, even in pretend, for we do not do that, that is why. And though the pieces of broccoli are very like small trees, do not stand them upright to make a forest, because we do not do that, that is why. Sit just as I have told you, and do not lean to one side or the other, nor slide down until you are nearly slid away. Heed me; for if you sit like that, your hair will go into the syrup. And now behold, even as I have said, it has come to pass.

Laws Pertaining to Dessert

For we judge between the plate that is unclean and the plate that is clean, saying first, if the plate is clean, then you shall have dessert. But of the unclean plate, the laws are these: If you have eaten most of your meat, and two bites of your peas with each bite consisting of not less than three peas each, or in total six peas, eaten where I can see, and you have also eaten enough of your potatoes to fill two forks, both forkfuls eaten where I can see, then you shall have dessert. But if you eat a lesser number of peas, and yet you eat the potatoes, still you shall not have dessert; and if you eat the peas, yet leave the potatoes uneaten, you shall not have dessert, no, not even a small portion thereof. And if you try to deceive by moving the potatoes or peas around with a fork, that it may appear you have eaten what you have not, you will fall into iniquity. And I will know, and you shall have no dessert.

On Screaming

Do not scream; for it is as if you scream all the time. If you are given a plate on which two foods you do not wish to touch each other are touching each other, your voice rises up even to the ceiling, while you point to the offense with the finger of your right hand; but I say to you, scream not, only remonstrate gently with the server, that the server may correct the fault. Likewise if you receive a portion of fish from which every piece of herbal seasoning has not been scraped off, and the herbal seasoning is loathsome to you, and steeped in vileness, again I say, refrain from screaming. Though the vileness overwhelm you, and cause you a faint unto death, make not that sound from within your throat, neither cover your face, nor press your fingers to your nose. For even now I have made the fish as it should be; behold, I eat of it myself, yet do not die.

Concerning Face and Hands

Cast your countenance upward to the light, and lift your eyes to the hills, that I may more easily wash you off. For the stains are upon you; even to the very back of your head, there is rice thereon. And in the breast pocket of your garment, and upon the tie of your shoe, rice and other fragments are distributed in a manner wonderful to see. Only hold yourself still; hold still, I say. Give each finger in its turn for my examination thereof, and also each thumb. Lo, how iniquitous they appear. What I do is as it must be; and you shall not go hence until I have done.

Various Other Laws, Statutes, and Ordinances

Bite not, lest you be cast into quiet time. Neither drink of your own bath water, nor of bath water of any kind; nor rub your feet on bread, even if it be in the package; nor rub yourself against cars, nor against any building; nor eat sand.

Leave the cat alone, for what has the cat done, that you should so afflict it with tape? And hum not that humming in your nose as I read, nor stand between the light and the book. Indeed, you will drive me to madness. Nor forget what I said about the tape.

Complaints and Lamentations

O my children, you are disobedient. For when I tell you what you must do, you argue and dispute hotly even to the littlest detail; and when I do not accede, you cry out, and hit and kick. Yes, and even sometimes do you spit, and shout "stupid-head" and other blasphemies, and hit and kick the wall and the molding thereof when you are sent to the corner. And though the law teaches that no one shall be sent to the corner for more minutes than he has years of age, yet I would leave you there all day, so mighty am I in anger. But upon being sent to the corner you ask straightaway, "Can I come out?" and I reply, "No, you may not come out." And again you ask, and again I give the same reply. But when you ask again a third time, then you may come out.

Hear me, O my children, for the bills they kill me. I pay and pay again, even to the twelfth time in a year, and yet again they mount higher than before. For our health, that we may be covered, I give six hundred and twenty talents twelve times in a year; but even this covers not the fifteen hundred deductible for each member of the family within a calendar year. And yet for ordinary visits we still are not covered, nor for many medicines, nor for the teeth within our mouths. Guess not at what rage is in my mind, for surely you cannot know.

For I will come to you at the first of the month and at the fifteenth of the month with the bills and a great whining and moan. And when the month of taxes comes, I will decry the wrong and unfairness of it, and mourn with wine and ashtrays, and rend my receipts. And you shall remember that I am that I am: before, after, and until you are twenty-one. Hear me then, and avoid me in my wrath, O children of me.

The Atlantic Monthly; February 1997; Volume 279, No. 2; pages 89-90

ZP attended his first concert last week at Fort Reno! He was quite content to listen to the music while chilling on the grass, watching the fireflies flit by, and staring at an older hippie dude, with the slow and deliberate motions of an ape, pick mulberries off of a nearby tree and eat them for dinner. ZP enjoyed the tunes of the chick band Federal City Five (seen playing on the stage in the background - the same stage that his daddy played on a few years ago) and smirked at punk latino Machetres' version of Jimi Hendrix's "Hey, Joe" called "Hey, Jose." Rock on, baby. Rock on.

Bah! Home ownership is fraught with pitfalls and repairs. First, it was the tub where the water only came out of the spigot at the base and not through the showerhead above. When TP tried to fix it, a gush of scalding hot water erupted out of the hot water faucet handle and could have done some major damage if he hadn't raced down to the basement to shut off the main water pipes. All this while guests from NY were arriving. "Welcome to DC! We have no water." Luckily, our friends are easy-going and laughed it off. "It's like being in Pakistan! Sort of like load-shedding but with water!"

Next, it was garbage disposal which somehow got a tiny hole in the plastic housing and was leaking water into the cabinet below. After several phone calls to the warranty people and convincing them that we are covered, they finally sent a technician to repair it. Upon further examination, the tech decided it was more trouble that it was worth to fix it and insead just installed a new one.

Then, stupid Verizon, whose service we use for the phone and whose DSL service our neighbors - whose house is attached to ours - uses, insisted that WE could not receive DSL service. For some reason, our house had two lines running through it. After a month of mixed messages, repair guys appearing and tinkering around but not fixing anything, and a final "no," we just got Comcast cable modem yesterday - which is pretty pricey if you don't also subscribe to their cable tv service - which we can't because we already signed an 18 month contract with Dish Network - which goes bonkers any time it is rainy outside. Speaking of rain . . .

Latest: The deluge of stormy weather that has hit DC has caused buckets o' water to collect on our roof and now it is starting to seep through the ceiling. I woke up the other day to get a snacky snack at 2am and found a puddle of water on the landing at the top of the stairs. With near-constant rain coming down, the wet spot on the ceiling is getting wider and worse. We need to get that repaired beofre the roof caves in on us.

So, what's up next?! (interrodread!)

*shhh. he's alseep. i should be asleep too. and yet, here i am with a quick update. thanks to cybermom and dad for helping me with everything from bathing zp (slippery lil' devil) to rocking him to sleep (using every family member as his own personal bed). thanks to gojira for visiting me and providing me with adult conversation as well as an opportunity to nap while she obeyed the master's commands or suffer the wrath of the angry toes (can't wait to have our own celebrity poker tournament!). thanks to lb and kg for the food and babysitting and the laptop (without which, this blog would have cobwebs in the corners . . . errr, more so). and thanks to tp for taking care of me in every way - emotionally, physically, and foodily (gonna hunker down over some home-cookin' tonight). and thanks to all youze guyz for still visiting this place even though the updates are few and far between and seem to be all about baby stuff. alhumdulillah, his first month's dr's visit went well and he's a healthy baby weighing in at over 10 lbs and stretching out to 24 inches. the best is the morning smile i get and the funniest is watching his huge cheeks tremble with effort when he raises his head. awwww.*

ALERT! ALERT! FURIOUS BEAST AWAKENS! SLASHING CLAWS (seriously, baby nails are fiercely sharp), GNASHING GUMS (hints of teeth threatening beneath), AND ANGRY EYEBROWS (inherited from his daddy)!

*runs away*

Happy Birthday, LB!
Here's a kiss from your absolutely mostest toastest favorite nephew.
xoxoxo, Baji

Been tagged by Musicalchef and so . . . Ten things (most of you) don't know about me (apologies if there is some repetition from the 100 things about me post, parts one and two):

1. When I was younger, I could lace my fingers together and jump through my arms as though they were a jump rope. Not so sure I could still do that these days.
2. With sugared cereals forboden in our household, I used to sneak a scoop or more of sugar straight out of the sugar jar to get my sweet fix.
3. The hardest part of Ramadan for me is the waking up and forcing myself to eat something for Sehri - I used to fall asleep while chewing a banana and when woken up to finish it, I would just shift it from one cheek to the other and snooze.
4. I've seen the Princess Bride so many times that I could (and probably still can) recite almost every single line.
5. I was so addicted to Atari that I managed to get calluses on my fingers from playing so much. Pacman fever, indeed!
6. Although I try not to be, I'm a very vengeful person - during the first month of starting at a new school in the 7th grade, the 'cool girls' decided to pick on me and wrote mean notes to me and put a tack on my chair; in response, I determined who the 'leader' was and kicked her into her locker as the end of school bell rang and walked away. They didn't bother me after that.
7. I can fit into my pre-pregnancy clothes a mere three weeks after delivering my baby.
8. One night whilst asleep on my pallet in Pakistan, I woke up when I felt something tickling my cheek - it was a monster cockroach. With wings. Still freaks me out.
9. For some bizarre reason, after a shower with still-wet hair, I would sometimes suck the water out of my long hair on my way to school. Since I never used a hair-dryer, sometimes my hair would be a mass of frozen strands.
10. My name means 'the fountain in heaven where those closest to God drink.'

To spare what few readers I have left, I won't tag anyone. But whomsoever wishes to be tagged may consider themselves so tagged - just let me know and I'll come visit!

my, how my life has changed. sporadic sleep, incomplete meals, and use of a whole different set of muscles. here is the new soundtrack of my life:


Breast-feeding: Taste the Pain by the Red Hot Chili Peppers
Wriggly diaper change, belly button cleaning, and change of clothes as fast as possible: Jerry Was a Racecar Driver by Primus
Busting out the clippers and letting Dad 'shave' ZP's hair: Cut Your Hair by Pavement
ZP's angry eyebrows and ferocious anger when I'm not fast enough to understand what he is trying to communicate to me: Any song really, by Rage Against the Machine
Looking at the multiple laundry baskets that Mom has graciously been attending to: I Don't Wanna Go Down To The Basement by the Ramones

Being hypnotized by ZP's wide eyes and believing he recognizes me and adores me (especially when I catch that fleeting smile that may indicate pleasure but may also indicate a soiled diaper in progress): Your Favorite Thing by Sugar

Watching ZP sleep and wanting to do anything I can to give him everything he needs and wants: Little Babies by Sleater Kinney

i'm the water i'm the dishes i'm the soap

i will comfort make you clean help you cope

when you're tired feeling helpless

come inside i am the shelter

and then when you're feeling better i'll watch you go

dum dum dee dee dee dum dum dee dum do

all the little babies go oh oh i want to

dum dum dee dee dee dum dum dee dum yeah

rock the little babies with one two three four

are you hungry did you eat before the show

i peeled potatoes set the table washed the floor

i know the others treat you rough

and when you know you've had enough

you'll come and see me cuz' you know

i'm always here

mother's little helper

I can't wait until ZP fits into his new onesie - hand-stitched by TP's previous singer in his band. MORE COW BELL!

In other non-baby related news, I'm glad they are showing the second season of Lost these days because although I caught one episode in the middle and the finale, I'm not certain what the shaq is going on. Also, I cannae believe I finally have cable again after a drought of about two years. So long, Netflix. Hello, Good Eats, Adult Swim, IFC, and Comedy Central (oh, how I've missed Colbert).

Is it just me, or do any of you also channel Harvey Keitel's character "Mr. White" from Reservoir Dogs singing "you're gonna be okayyyyy, you're gonna be okayyyyyy" to the bullet-wounded Mr. Orange when changing a squirmy, dissatisfied baby's diapers?

Zain is fast approaching his two week birthday. I'm still astounded by everything he does and am fascinated by the little changes. By mid-June, he'll be a month old which is just about time for him to go to his first concert, don't you think? Fort Reno, here we come!

Thanks for all the du'as and funny comments and HIGHlarious updates to the blog, y'all! As you might well imagine, my world has been rocked. The right honorable Sir Zain (a.k.a. "baby doll" [my dad], a.k.a. "the beast" [TP], a.k.a. "squeaky mcgee" [me]) is a joy and wonder to us all. Today, he turns a whole week old. During the course of his one week on this earth, he's been through quite a bit. Mr. Fashion Plate had to make his arrival a dramatic one where he came into this world with the cord wrapped not once, but TWICE, around his neck as though it was a stylish scarf. With only an hour left to spare to make his appearance on his due date, he made it safe and sound and was whisked away to be suctioned, swabbed, and swaddled. We spent two nights in the hospital, but thanks to Zain's perfect timing, since we didn't get our room until 1am, which technically was a new day, we were only charged for one day. Heh heh, suckers. TP was amazing throughout the delivery and I couldn't ask for a more loving and brave hubby. Once word was given that Zain was available for viewing and cooing, Cybermom and Dad and LB were there in an instant, doting on him, exclaiming over every little toe, and lost to him already.

Except for two rather rough nights where we were stupid and didn't understand what he was crying about [note to self, "wah! wah! wah!" means "change my diaper, you jerks!" and "ah ah AHHEEEEEE" means "feed me already, cruel things!"], Zain has been incredibly good. He was holding his head up by himself within the first few hours of life and soon will be brandishing a sword and buckling his swash all by himself. The master and commander of my life is demanding my attention now and so I must away.

"Squeak. Sniffle. Ahem. wah. wah. WAHHH!"
"AYE AYE, SIR!"

He's here! Alhumdulillah, he's healthy, happy, and here! He came on his due date after all - that's mah boy! *wipes tear from eyes* 'Twas the phrase "okay, let's try one last push otherwise we may have to have a c-section" that got him to come into the world at an hour before midnight. 8 lbs, 0.03 ozs, 21 inches, powerful lungs, kung-fu grip, and a heart-breaking gaze that melts my heart. Thanks for all du'as and well-wishes and keep 'em coming! More on me wee pirate later! Yeehawwwzzzzz. . . zzzzz . . . zzzzz.

Naughty, lazy baby! *looks at watch, taps toe impatiently, sighs heavily* No sign of the wee one yet. I think he is taking after his Aunty LB and wants to make a fashionably late arrival. Bah!

I. Love. This. Website. Pandora. You can customize a 'radio-station' by entering the types of music you like (by artist or by song) and the program will offer suggestions of other similar bands/styles and play them for you. For free. Yay! I heart free!

Whew! We have finally moved out of our ghetto fabulous (sans fabulous) house in CoHi and into our skinny (and when I say 'skinny,' I mean like 13 feet wide) abode in AdMo. The move went pretty well - the movers were quiet, quick, polite, and inexpensive. Plus, we got to hear TP speaking Spanish all day which is always fun. We now have an intricate maze of boxes and furniture to navigate through in order to get from one end of the house to the other. I wish there was some cheese at the end of the maze to reward the effort, but our fridge currently houses leftover ginger chicken, a bottle of water, and some labne. Gotta go grocery shopping, STAT!

Meanwhile, enjoy this advice from my cousin's husband's sister in response to my piratey email notifying me hearties of the move to a new port:

A few things to do with your sword, which spring immediately to mind:

1. Clean baby poop from under your fingernails

2. Chop veggies for the Lord and Master's dining pleasure (I mean the baby; TP's completely out of the picture as of now - poor soul - except as inspiration for sword use no. 4 below).

3. Hold poop-soiled diaper at the end of; prior to chucking in the bin; with a view to maximizing distance between nose (yours) and said diaper.

4. After a night of alternately breast feeding and changing diapers every 30 minutes, playfully brandish at TP (but with a thoughtful look in the eye) when he lovingly asks in the morning, "did you sleep well, hon?"

5. Give yourself quick haircuts with, since you won't have time for that kind of frivolous, carefree thing anymore - oh goddness me - no.

6. And hold on to it (the sword) because when your little baby boy turns 13, and wants to pierce his ear - and gosh, I hope you raise him right so that he will want to - think how handy it'll be then - no, silly, not to teach him a lesson and chop off his ear with, but to be totally supportive and pierce it for him.

My buddy Faisal was interviewed recently on NPR/BBC/PRI regarding the trials and tribulations of being a Muslim attorney working for THE MAN and tangling with politics, the media, and the freaks. Listen up, yo.

Muslim-American lawyer interview
A Muslim-American lawyer working at the Department of Homeland Security was investigated for alleged ties to a man charged with financing terrorist groups. The Muslim-American lawyer was cleared...but rumors continue to swirl on-line. The World's Athena Desai has the story.

(thx for the heads up, mothman).

I couldn't place why I loved these Dunkin' Donuts (or as TP calls them, Binkin' Bonkers) commercials so much until I found out that they are sung by They Might Be Giants. No wonder! I can't wait to introduce me wee one to them with this.

Just got back from a shopping trip to Whole Foods where, of course, I can't leave without dropping less than $50 when RASSIN' FRASSIN' WHAT THE SHAQ KIND OF STUPID IDIOT PUT THE WORST OF ALL CHOCOLATE BARS (honestly, who likes milk chocolate bars - not only that, but milk chocolate with puffed rice - gotta be the most boring combination ever) IN THE CONTAINER FOR THE ONE OF THE BEST OF ALL CHOCOLATE BARS (although, I must admit that I prefer this over that). Excuse me while I weep bitter tears.

My co-workers are planning a baby shower for me. I'm pleased, but uncertain about it. It was thoughtful of them and more people than I expected are eager to attend but I've never been an attention-monger and feel awkward when the spotlight is on me. Growing up, I was always the back-row-in-the-classroom type. Left of center. Part of the nerd crew. I got along with everyone, but compared to some (i.e., LB), I was not very social. I'm happy making friends with whomever happens to sit next to me, but I'm loathe to get up and introduce myself to new people. Maybe that's just slacker laziness or fear of forcing my company upon someone who does not want it, but there you have it.

So it surprised me when my co-worker called me to ask when a good day for the shower would be. I've helped her and several others cope with work and played the therapist when she has come weeping on more than one occassion. (*flashback to the days when I was working in the law firm and had a long, low black couch in my office that my Palestinian/Tunisian friend used to frequent by lying down and spilling her woes to me*). Somehow, my office has become the equivalent of the student lounge where, anytime people get bored or feel like socializing, they congregate in my office to eat snacks, chat about work or gossip, and kick back. So it's not that I don't think people don't like me (how can they resist?), it's just that I didn't think anyone would want to make an effort like this. Part of my reluctance is that because the party is for me, I'll be the center and therefore must speak to everyone, including people I don't care to make an effort to get to know better. Part of my reluctance is that because I'll be the center, so will my belly and everyone will stare at it and perhaps try to sneak a rub in (no joke, the cashier at the bagel place I sometimes stop by in the mornings saw me, greeted me, and then rubbed my belly and walked on). I don't know what it is, but perhaps with the little sleep, the lot of aches, and the anxiety of moving/selling with the unknown baby stuff looming ahead, I'm not in the mood to put on a party hat and play silly games. Ah well. At least there will be cake.

Four weeks until lift off. Is the baby's room ready? No. Is the house ready? No. Are we ready? *shrug*.

"Have you picked out a theme for the nursery?"
"Yeah, boxes."

While LB and Gunnar are cruising down the canals of Venice in a gondola, TP and I are making do with one car (not too bad, actually), trying to sell our old house (in the second stage of counter-offering with one dude right now), planting fig trees at the new house (already saw one little baby fig emerging!), and working down to the wire. In the few free moments I have when I am not packing or visiting with friends (it's not even May and visiting season has begun), I'm finally watching Lost on dee-wee-dee. It's 6:30 a.m. right now and I've been up for over an hour because it has become increasingly difficult to find a comfortable position in which to sleep. I hear last night's pizza calling me now and so away I go.

The tent has come down, the couple is wed, and the guests have gone home. The wedding was fantastic, the food delish, and now, we update!

Top Five Top Five:

Top Five Typical Pakistani Inappropriate Comments Made

1. "The government doesn't pay their employees very much, do they? How much do you make?"
2. "How much weight have you gained?"
3. "You should wax your arms; it's your wedding day!" (response: "no, I don't think so.") "Yes, you should wax your arms."
4. "Every time I see you, you are eating."
5. "I didn't get a wedding invitation. Where and when is it?"

Top Five Ailments

1. Achy-breaky back
2. Ribs crushed in the attempt to wear pre-pregnancy lengha above 8 month pregnant belly
3. No rest for the wicked because in order to spend time with the grandfathers, you have to be up at 6 a.m. and in order to hang with the cousins, you have to be up until 2 a.m.
4. Diabetic coma after eating all the food and sweets and the snacks that Cybermom is notorious for scattering throughout the house
5. Marshmallow toes from flying and standing so much

Top Five Lessons Learned

1. Don't get nails done with LB because you will inevitably get the bad guy
2. Don't let Aunty Yaz sit in a rickety chair
3. Don't tell Nanaji you will bring 4 of the Harry Potter books to him unless you actually have them in hand
4. Don't park your van in the soggy grass the evening after a tornado warning and hard rain
5. Don't get a sari blouse that closes with tiny hooks that are supposed to hang onto teeny bits of thread but don't

Top Five Foods Had

1. Dehi Vada
2. Wedding cake
3. Big, juicy dates that you can eat with a knife and fork
4. Palak
5. Goat meat
   

Top Five Moments of the Wedding Weekend

1. The Qs and O Bro's comedy routine
2. Noozle's singing "Summertime" just for LB
3. All of LB's friends in one place laughing, eating, and enjoying themselves
4. The dancing at the mehndi and when the music kept stopping and starting, hearing Aunty Yaz's exclaim during one of the moments of silence in her piercing voice "SOMETHING'S WRONG!"
5. Gunnar's maiyoun dancing and wedding speech

"So, Baji, how've you been?"
"Well, do you want the pat and generic 'I'm fine, thanks, and you?' answer or do you want the long, drawn-out melodrama?"
"Oooh! Melodrama, please!"
"So be it."

Saturday:

The good news:

• LB and I spent a nice sister's morning as we haven't done in a long time complete with perfect eyebrows, fresh "masala bagels," and Smallville.
• Our house went up for sale and even though the open house isn't until next week, we already got four interested buyers.
• Got to see Literaunty, Literuncle, and Dadaji for brunch.

The bad news:

• We didn't realize buyers were coming to the house already so we had to do a whirlwind cleaning job on the house before they did.
• That evening, TP's car got totalled by an unlicensed, uninsured driver who sped through an intersection, clipped one old lady's car and careened into TP's parked car - crushing the sides and forcing it up onto the sidewalk before it came to a stop thanks to the stone wall and the Jeep in front of it.
• We spent four hours filing the police report on the hit-and-run-and-return (the driver fled because he was scared but shame-facedly returned with his brother, the true owner of the car), and waiting for the tow truck to drag the car's carcass from off of the sidewalk and back onto the street.

Gotta end on a good note:

• We weren't in the car when the accident happened.
• We met a lot of our neighbors.
• When we turned away from the flashing lights of the cop cars, we could see the Cherry Blossom Festival's fireworks downtown.

Sunday:

The good news:

• More realtors and buyers wanted to see the house so we made ourselves scarce by going to the Admo house to water the daffodils, put some books on the shelves, and walk over to our new 'hood for some coffee and fries - breakfast of champs!
• Saw "V for Vendetta" at the Uptown (a lovely old theater which I have not visited in ages) and was pleased by it.
• I got to have a cheese-and-avacado sammich for dinner followed by pretty much a whole pint of Haagen-Dazs Raspberry Sorbet

The bad news:

• I also ate some other leftover foods for dinner which I did not nuke long enough and which returned with a vendetta at midnight in the form of a bout of food poisoning puking.
• The insurance company of the driver's brother refused to tow the car to a lot before they sent out a claims adjuster out . . . some day.
• In reading "Broken Verses," I came across an unforgivable passage where the protaganist "pushed open the door that led out to the balcony and breathed deep the carbon dioxide expelled by the plants around me."

Gotta end on a good note:

• Our new house only has one parking spot in the back so maybe it's just as well we have only one car now.
• One of the potential buyers for the house from the day before returned with her husband and baby for a second look.
• TP impressed me and won a little bit more of my undying love by washing out the garbage can (into which I expelled the contents of my stomach - careful careful! ulti hai!) with not mere soap, but peppermint-scented soap so that the second time around, at least I had a fresh scent to greet me.

Monday:

The good news:

• Lil' Baji and Gunnar got married (just the civil ceremony, folks; the big one is this weekend)!
• I got to talk to KK about books and movies and books.
• I found some inexpensive but cute pregnancy clothing to wear this weekend that has the potential for being post-pregnancy clothing too.

The bad news:

• The tow truck that was supposed to come at noon came at 11:30 instead so TP had to wait another two hours for another truck to come and scrape his car off of our road only to find out that the body shop where the car was to be deposited was run by a freak who, upon seeing the damage to the car, refused to accept it.
• Still no comfy but glittery shoes for the wedding.
• I've gone from an interesting pirate's lurch to a full-on waddle.

Gotta end on a good note:

• With perfect timing, we entered the restaurant where we semi-feted the happy new couple just as the sky turned black and the hail fell down and we left just as it stopped.
• I got my doctor's blessing to attending the wedding after all.
• In a few days, I'll be watching my baby sister get married. Yay!

Just waking up in the morning gotta thank God

I don't know but today seems kinda odd

No barking from the dogs, no smog

And momma cooked a breakfast with no hog

I can't believe, today was a good day

Started the morning by walking outside to a beautiful, sunny, warm spring day. The birds? They were seriously chirping. The sun? Hard core shining. I got onto the Metro and whether it was because I wasn't wearing an belly-concealing coat and scarf or not, this adorable 14 year old looked at me and actually got up and offered me his seat. Yay!

When I got to work and made my trek up the breath-stealing hill, I paused to get my badge out of my bag and an older gentlemen actually got in front of me to hold the door open for me. Yay!

At lunch, I went to the cafeteria and saw the cook pull out a fresh batch of hot, crispy french fries. I grabbed a bunch and sat outside in the sunshine for an hour with my buddies. Yay!

By 4:00, I completed enough work to get a tidy little bonus for the end of the quarter, so I called up TP to make a date. We met at the Cherry Blossoms, had Thai food for dinner, and cuddled on the couch while watching The Office. Yay!

Eight months down, eight weeks to go. In that time, I have to:

• Finish packing up the rest of the clutter in the old house and move (and by "move," I mean point to and order around others to move) it to the new house.
• Get the old house in viewing condition and plant flowers in the front to fool people into thinking that this ghetto fabulous house is more faulous than ghetto.
• Attend a two-day, all-day child-birthing class this weekend at the hospital in order to get acquainted with the digs, to run through the procedure, and, as TP put it, to learn which way of the baby is up.
• Cram in as many overtime hours at work this week to tack onto my maternity leave in May.
• Finish watching The Constant Gardener and The Squid and the Whale before potentially cancelling Netflix since they have me on "the throttle list" but may reconsider when we move and fool them into thinking that we are new customers.
• Go with LB to the salon to get our brows in wedding-day-condition and hope that they don't get jacked up.
• Watch season one of Lost on dee-wee-dee.
• Pay taxes, bills, real estate agent, and movers.
• Participate in LB's civil wedding in town to be followed by LB's religious wedding back home.
• Turn in some schedule at work detailing my time off: vacation, sick, compensatory, maternity (without pay - stupid government), and possibly FMLA (also without pay - stupid government).
• Contacting everyone and everything to alert them to our change of address.
• Set up some sort of internet and/or cable connection at the new house.
• Try to jam a queen-sized bed into a full-sized room for when Mom and Dad come to stay with us.
• Organize the baby's stuff which, as of now, takes up most of the upper level of the new house.
• Oh yeah, and that other stuff: laundry, groceries, eat, sleep, work, play . . .

*thunk*

Avast! With all the goings-on above, I didn't find out about this until too late. Shiver me timbers!

Mabrook Madness!

• To Sensai Sanchez on the birth of her adorable baby boy - may they both be happy, healthy, and hankerin' for ice cream
• To Najm on his engagement to a wonderful, wacky woman - may they both live close to me so they can babysit and have savage night at a moment's notice
• To LB and Gunnar on their upcoming nuptials - may they both live close to me (see above) and bring me back something rockin' from Italy
• To TP on his new house - may it be filled with happiness and harmony
• To the wee one for turning around and facing the right direction - may you come into a world of light and laughter
• NEW ADDITION: To Sufisticate for tricking some sucker into marrying him - may you find a good job in DC (note, VA does not = DC) and (see above).

This time last year, I was kickin' it in Finland (and by "Finland," I mean the Embassy of Finland). This year, TP's function was held at the Canadian Embassy. Not only were there no pony chairs upon which to sit, no fancy spread, and no dessert, the place strongly resembled a high school gymnasium, sans basketball nets and teen sweat. And here I was all set to try out some poutine - described here as repulsive and delicious. Well, Canucks? What say you?

Moving Day Reprisal

I'm too sleepy, back-achey, and stuffed up to write any pseudo-poetry this time, but rest assured, packing days have begun again and it has its joys (finally get to throw away some stuff) and its pains (trying not to lift any heavy boxes and let my crew do the heavy work, but it's in the way!). With the warm weather and sunshine comes the nefarious pollen to join forces with the evil dust to destroy me. That's one less tissue box we have to move because I've run right through it.

Still, it's such a relief knowing that our days in CoHi (where we are bookended by liquor stores) are numbered and we are moving back to AdMo (where we might be around the corner from a coming-soon Harris Teeters). It's also immensely satisfying to clutter up the new house with all of the luggage (filled with summer clothes), the books (to be arranged on the bookcases when they arrive), and the baby shower gear (which can take up an entire room by itself). We are leaving the heavy items - beds, dressers, couches - for the movers (and maybe Najm) for when we sell our OTHER house (look at me, Miss Moneybags with TWO houses in DC). Thanks for all of your help, LB and Gunnar. Two Amys tonight on me. Oops, closed because of a water main break.

Make that Cactus Cantina. Twenty minute wait just to get a beeper?

Nope, how about Cafe Deluxe? Closed.

Try Again. Angelico's? Closed.

Head back to Cleveland Park then. Indique? 30 minute wait. On a rainy Sunday night.

Sixth time's a charm. Alero's it is.

Happy Birthday, Cybermom!

To celebrate your birthday, we took a half day off from work, bought a house, and took your cousin out to dinner for *his* birthday! Hope you had a wonderful day. :)

The Good: Mom's home cookin', finding fancy clothes that fit me, listening to Nanaji's classic rambles (whether directly by him or by someone else imitating him), seeing the family, and joining in on destroying the Godiva Tower all weekend long.

The Bad: Going from the airport shuttle to the airplane only to turn around and be sent back to the airport because the plane had no power, waiting around for an hour, and getting called back to board the allegedly powered up plane at the time about which we were supposed to have landed.

The Ugly: My feet swelling up to unbeliewable proportions from the party high heels and my fingernails chopped and roont because the jackhole at L.A. Nails mixed up "French Manicure" for "French Tips."

Ooh-wee-ooh-wee-ooooooohhhh (wah wah wah) . . .

I guess it has been two years since the last time because I was once again summoned for jury duty. I just got back from spending eight boring hours at the courthouse and the only thing I have to show for it is a measly $4.00 for transportation reimbursement. Well, $4.00 and a few highlights:

• On my way to my car, I began the day by being approached by a huffing and puffing Salvadoran woman toting a vacuum cleaner and bucket of cleaning supplies and asking me "wheech way to EEErving?" When I finally understood she meant "Irving Street," and pointed up the hill and mentioned "a few blocks up," her face just crumpled in misery. She explained that she was supposed to clean someone's house and, instinctively, I asked, "do you want me to give you a ride?" She gratefully accepted and we spent the next few minutes getting her supplies into the trunk and discussing along the way, "ooh, how far!" and "ooh, it's so cold!"
• On my way to the courthouse, I stopped for a cup of hot chocolate which was a brilliant idea on my part because when I got to the courthouse, the line to get through security was going out of the door. I was probably 30th in the slow-moving line and did I mention how "ooh, it's so cold" today?
• In the jury room, I sat by the filmy window to enjoy what little sun there was to enjoy while the clerk popped in part 8 of Ken Burn's 9-part series, "The Civil War." I listened to (of course) Morgan Freeman narrate parts of the tale while I gazed outside at the traffic and peds. Why, I asked myself, did that cabbie just double park, get out of his cab, unbuckle his belt to tuck in his shirt, rezip and rebuckle right out on the street before making an illegal U-turn through traffic? Oh yeah. DC.
• At lunch, I grabbed a sammich from Cosi and ate it in the dismal courthouse cafeteria because there was nary a spot to sit at the restaurant.
• Back in the jury room, the clerk read out a list of people who had not checked in. One old man raised his hand and asked why he was not on the list. The clerk explained that he wasn't on the list because he had checked in. He raised his voice and angrily announced, "but I want to be checked out!" I, along with my fellow jurors, was astounded to hear him then rant: "I am 72 years old! I'm sick! I am no small chicken! Why do I have to keep coming here? I was evil when I was young! I am more evil now! I am worse than the devil! The Bible says 'judge not lest ye be judged' so I can't judge nobody! Where is my check?" After he was asked to step outside, the room was filled with nervous laughter and jokes. Best among them: "Where do you think he went to lunch?" "According to Charlie Daniels, The Devil Went Down to Fuddruckers."
• At 2:30, another batch of jurors left to perform their civic duty but I was among those who had to remain until the last judge decided whether or not he needed a jury. To pacify us, the clerk popped in part 9 of "The Civil War." We just got to an interesting part about someone accusing a politician of dressing in women's clothing when the last of us were called. Alas and alack, I was among them.
• After sitting through THE most inefficient voir dire in a hot, stuffy room, only half of the jurors had been interviewed and it was nearing 5:00 p.m. When the court reporter came out of the secret room and by her mere presence implied that we might be getting let go, the pens began clicking throughout the rows like crickets coming out at dusk and legs began bouncing as though everyone was engaging in traditional Greek grape-stomping activities. Rather than keep us for another hour or call us back tomorrow, the judge let us all go and NOBODY was chosen in the end.
• I trudged back upstairs to claim my $4.00 and get the proof that I served. Hopefully, it will be longer than another two years before they come knocking on my door again. And now, I sleep.

Item No. 1: I know it's tomorrow, but Happy Birthday, H-Biddy!!! Can't wait to see you in April (or maybe sooner?) and can't wait for you to see me and mah bellay. Here's your prezzie.

Item No. 2: Extry, extry, read all about it! Article written by my cousin flexing his writing chops on the subject of the Danish cartoons.

Item No. 3: Gojira, you have no idea how lucky you are. It looks like the fierce wind blew open the neighbor's gate again and now there are no dogs to be seen or, more importantly, to be heard. Ye'll sleep well tonight, lassie.

Item No. 4: Happy bridal shower, LB! Mmmmm, Lebanese Taverna.

Holy Krakatoa! I fainted on the Metro today! I was sitting there, minding my own beeswax, reading the Post Express, when a wave of dizziness and heat overcame me. I took off my scarf, unbuttoned my coat, and leaned forward but could not get comfortable or shake the pretty spirals and bursts of black from my eyes. As we approached the next station, I waited for the train to come to a stop and planned to get out and lay down somewhere (I wasn't going to be picky). I leaned my head against the window as the train slowed down and the next thing I knew, I was at the airport. I was only out for about 3 minutes or less, but it was crazy trying to come out of it: like a swimmer struggling to break the surface of water above. By the time I lifted my heavy eyelids and looked around, I realized I was still on the train. In the brief but unexciting interim, I had traveled one whole stop, dropped my umbrella, and cooled off. So, like any typical daughter-of-a-doctor (flashback of me running out of my room with four of my toes clearing the door jamb and my pinkie toe staying behind and Dad telling me that my pinkie toe was only bruised even though it was clearly pointing in a completely perpendicular position with my other toes), I rested for a bit and then continued on to work.

No worries (*looks pointedly in cybermom's direction*), I'm totally fine. LB made me call the doctor's office to make sure it was nothing severe (it wasn't) and I did some research on my own (looks like the combo of being slightly anemic, being over-layered, and possibly not eating enough was the culprit). There's nothing to be concerned about but it was certainly a surprise. I haven't fainted in quite a while and I forgot how out-of-body-like an experience it was. Other times include, but are not limited to, fainting at Hajj right on my face, fainting in a movie theater during a midnight screening right in a filthy college bathroom, and fainting in the hospital pre-appendectomy. Good times. Good times.

I went for my monthly doctor's appointment last week and everything is ship shape. After waiting for half an hour, I had to take a glucose screening test which involved me guzzling down a small bottle of sugary liquid (mine was fruit punch flavored) in under five minutes and then sitting around for an hour (reading, sighing, and surreptiously glancing over to compare belly sizes of my fellow waiting room denizens) before getting my blood drawn to see how well my body processes sugar. Clearly, these people do not know that one of the few things I can do well is process sugar:





mmmmmm . . . doughnuts.

(via upyernoz.)

If you want to see yourself as a Simpsons character, go here. If you want to see TP as a Simpsons character, go here.

I've lived in DC or thereabouts for 10 years now and am a veteran Metro rider. I've done the early morning long haul from Shady Grove to Capital South (where the driver would sing "DU-pont CIRRRRcle!" every time we reached that stop), the crowded briefcase-and-newspapers-open-wide-obstacle course from Cleveland Park to McPherson Square (where I would walk by the White House every morning on my way to work), the short stint from Woodley Park to Bethesda (and that hella long flight of escalators), and the current 45 minute trek from U Street to King Street (where at least I get a view of the beautiful Potomac River every morning and evening). But never, NEVER, have I had someone fall on me. I mean FALL RIGHT ONTO ME. Until the other day.

An older woman boarded the train and passed up some very choice empty seats before deciding that she wanted to sit right next to me. Laden down with a designer purse, an umbrella, and an enormous duffle bag that was about 2/3rds her own size, she slowly made her way down the aisle. She started to arrange herself before sitting down but then the train lurched forward and she lurched backwards - right into my lap, which was already full with my own bag, my book, and my belly. She apologized profusely and I automatically forgave her, but seriously, people, when you get on the train and see an empty seat, take it. I know you want to sit right next to me, but you can admire me from afar too. In fact, that's an even better view! I need to start commuting with a dummy just to avoid getting crushed.

Got tagged by Professor Ushi:

UNIQUE
1. Nervous habits : biting the inside of my cheeks
2. Are you double-jointed? No so much double as possibly missing a joint in my thumbs
3. Can you roll our tongue? Aye
4. Can you raise one eye brow at a time? The left moreso than the right.
5. Can you blow spit bubbles? I could at one time but haven't tried it lately.
6. Can you cross your eyes? Yes, and I can also freakily uncross one eye slowly while the other eye remains noseward. I think I learned that from my grandfather.
7. Tattoos? No
8. Piercings? Yes
9. Do you make your bed daily? Kinda

CLOTHES
10. Which shoe goes on first? Right
11. Speaking of shoes, have you ever thrown one at anyone? Not to my recollection
12. On an average, how much money do you carry? Why, are you planning to jack me?
13. What jewelry do you wear 24/7? Wedding, engagement, and ear rings.
14. Favourite piece of clothing? Pajamas
15. Do you twirl your spaghetti or cut it? Twirl
16. Have you ever eaten spam? No, but I know the Monty Python song dedicated to it by heart
17. Do you use extra salt on your food? No, my Dad would kill me.
18. How many cereals in your cabinet? One - Honey Bunches of Goats.
20. What's your favourite fastfood restaurant/chain? Chipotle.
21. Do you cook? Aye

GROOMING
22. How often do you brush your teeth? Twice a day
23. Hair drying method? Towel and then air dry
24. Have you ever colored/highlighted your hair? No - man, my answers are boring.

MANNERS
25. Do you ever swear? Rarely - I like to make up my own swear words
26. Do you ever spit? When the occassion warrants it

FAVOURITE
27. Animal - Robot pirate monkeys.
28. Food - Yes
29. Month - September
30. Day - Thursday because the next day is Friday followed by the weekend
31. Cartoon - Yes
32. Shoe brand - Ecco
33. Subject in school - English
34. Color - Black
35. Sport - Power-napping
36. TV shows - Yes
37. Things to do in the spring - Go for walks and admire the bloomage.
38. Things to do in the summer - Travel
39.Things to do in the fall - Bust out the sweaters but not the coats
40. Things to do in the winter - Get validation from the news that it's a snow day
41. In the CD player - Electric Version by The New Pornographers
42. Person you talk most on the phone with - Three-way tie among LB, TP, and Mom
43. Reading - Currently: Fargo Rock City by Chuck Klosterman.
44. Do you regularly check yourself out in store windows/mirrors? No
45. What color is your bedroom? Beige this month; yellow next month.
46. Do you use an alarm clock? Yep, tuned to NPR
47. Window seat or aisle? Window - especially b/c the aisle seat is more prone to accidents (i.e. luggage falling from the overhead compartment and onto your head or shoulders, flight attendants hurtling through the aisles with the metal cart and right into your foot or knee, and tomato juice splashing on to you as it is handed to the window seat patron)
48. What's your sleeping position? I'm like a rotisserie chicken, I spin around and around
49. In hot weather, do you use a blanket? A sheet
50. Do you snore? No
51. Do you sleepwalk? No
52. Do you talk in your sleep? Sometimes while I'm about to fall asleep but someone (*looks in TP's, LB's, and Gojira's direction*) is still talking to me, I'll respond but really I'm asleep and have no idea what I just said.
53. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? No
54. How about with the light on? No
55. Do you fall asleep with the TV/radio on? I can but I don't deliberately do so.
56. Last interesting person you met? I don't meet people

***UPDATE***

The sheer arrogance and gall of this chick astounds me (plus, the lack of her grasp of the difference between "sow" and "sew" is annoying). Welcome to "Lawyers Behaving Badly":

Dear Attorney ______, At this time, I am writing to inform you that I will not be accepting your offer. After careful consideration, I have come to the conclusion that the pay you are offering would neither fulfill me nor support the lifestyle I am living in light of the work I would be doing for you. I have decided instead to work for myself, and reap 100% of the benefits that I sew. Thank you for the interviews.

Dianna _____, Esq.

________________________________________________________

Dianna -

Given that you had two interviews, were offered and accepted the job (indeed, you had a definite start date), I am surprised that you chose an e-mail and a 9:30 PM voicemail message to convey this information to me. It smacks of immaturity and is quite unprofessional. Indeed, I did rely upon your acceptance by ordering stationery and business cards with your name, reformatting a computer and setting up both internal and external e-mails for you here at the office. While I do not quarrel with your reasoning, I am extremely disappointed in the way this played out. I sincerely wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors.

- Will ____

________________________________________________________

A real lawyer would have put the contract into writing and not exercised any such reliance until he did so. Again, thank you.

________________________________________________________

Thank you for the refresher course on contracts. This is not a bar exam question. You need to realize that this is a very small legal community, especially the criminal defense bar. Do you really want to start pissing off more experienced lawyers at this early stage of your career?

________________________________________________________

bla bla bla

Hunker down, kids. Here comes the snow. Good thing we have the following to keep us occupied:

• Watching The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill
• Drinking hot chocolate from the snootiest of snooty places in Paris
• Filling up empty boxes with some books in anticipation of the big move
• e-browsing for baby gear and related accessories
• Periodically checking outside to see if the alleged snow fall will reach the levels of last year
• Responding to e-mails that have been "kept as new" for a week or more
• Taking frequent naps interspersed with some Olympic sports critiques ("Honestly, I don't see what athletic skills the luge requires at all. ZZzzzzzzz").

More excerpts from "Modern Muslim Cooking of Indo-Pakistan" by A. Nisa Bhatti, First Edition 1964:

Sheep's Feet

It is another popular dish of this country. It is delicious and invigorating. It is prepared especially in winter.

Ingredients:
10 sheep's feet
1/3 level teaspoon turmeric powder
2 flakes garlic
2 oz. onion
1/2 oz. ginger
1/4 teaspoon garam masala
1/2 lb. curd
4 oz. ghee
1/2 lb onion

Wash and clean sheep's feet. Scrap [sic] out hair and remove shoes (if not already done) and boil in water adding all the spices except ginger and garam masala till water is dry and feet are tender. Then fry them adding sliced ginger, garam masala and 4 oz. ghee. Again add water (sufficient to cook the feet and gravy required). Let simmer on low heat for two hours till ready. Sprinkle with chopped green coriander, green pepper, garam masala (curry powder) and fried onion slices. Remove from heat after 5 minutes and serve. (sufficient for 6 persons).

Avast! I've been tagged by Wayfarer. And so, without further ado:


Four Jobs I've Had in My Life

1) Census taker for the U.S. Government
2) Volunteer Attorney for the National Audobon Society
3) Cleaning Lady
4) Senior Legal Counsel for Discovery Communications, Inc.

Four Movies I Could Watch Over and Over, and Have

1) The Shawshank Redemption
2) Monty Python and the Holy Grail
3) This is Spinal Tap
4) The Godfather

and I would add more because making me choose favorite movies is like making me choose a favorite child, but this will have to do for now.

Four Places I Have Lived

1) Merthyr Tydfil, Wales
2) Louisville, KY
3) St. Louis, MO
4) Washington, DC

Four TV Shows I Love To Watch

1) Iron Chef
2) The Office
3) The Daily Show
4) The Simpsons (mostly the early years)

Four Places I Have Been On Vacation

1) Asia
2) Europe
3) Africa
4) Middle East
More you say? Lookee hyah.

Four Websites I Visit Daily

1) Bloglines
2) The Onion
3) Wikipedia
4) DCist

Four Favorite Foods

1) Pakistani
2) Italian
3) Ethiopian
4) Mexican

Four Places I Would Rather Be Right Now

1) Hawaii
2) Italy
3) In my comfy bed
4) In my new house

Four People Whom I Tag Next

1) Chai
2) Gojira
3) Sanchez
4) Yasminay

Ladies and gentlemen! Kids of all ages! Get yer du'as in now, now, NOW, for us to live a happy, healthy, harmonious life in this hyah house:


Front Room (note, none of this stuff is ours)


Dining Room where many a pizza will be et.


Kitchen where many a bucket o' ice cream will be stored and perhaps et.


Stairs that go both up AND down.


Bedroom where many a nap will be taken.

I don't know how many of you take public transportation on a daily basis, but for those of you who do, allow me to share this brilliant gem that just made my day:

Metrobus Seat Hog Gets a Lift
By John Kelly

Thursday, January 26, 2006; Page C09

"It was like a movie scene."
That's how a reader I will call Bert described an incident he witnessed on the 34 Metrobus in Georgetown last week.

A guy was sitting in the middle of a two-person bench seat, refusing all requests to scoot over and allow someone else to sit down.

"Everybody here paid $1.25," said one irritated passenger. "Why should you have two seats?"
This went on for a while -- the fellow lounging, the pressure building -- until a particularly large passenger decided to settle things. When the bus came to a stop, he grabbed the seated man, lifted him up and threw him unceremoniously out the rear door.

(I love it when people are thrown unceremoniously. Has anyone ever been thrown ceremoniously, I mean besides the occasional virgin into a volcano?)

Bert's fellow passengers were stunned. "It was like urban jungle justice," Bert said. On the one hand, the cad had received a deserved comeuppance. On the other hand, something very close to an assault had just taken place.

The ejected passenger did not take his ejection lying down. He suddenly popped up in front of the bus , blocking its path. He was like that Chinese guy who stood in front of a tank in Tiananmen Square, except instead of being a lone protester bravely defying authoritarian rule, he was a little seat-hogging jerk who was keeping everyone from getting home. Bert hopped off and got on another bus. So did all the other passengers. By the time Metro Transit Police arrived, the bus-blocker had fled.

"We don't know whatever happened to him," said Metro's Cathy Asato.

Wagamama is opening a new store in Copenhagen this spring. Where was it when WE were there? And why the Shaq is there no Wagamama in the U.S.? *weeps bitter tears*

ps - happy b-day, ye scurvy, swill-eatin' blackguard, gojira! *mwah*

This had me and my co-workers laughing so hard that tears were coming out of our eyes and our tummies hurt. As though we had been roundhouse-kicked in the gut.

When one is pregnant, one has a tendency to walk and stand with horrible posture. This, in turn, leads to back aches and sleepless nights. In an effort to avoid that, I've been trying to keep my back straight and my head up - which is no easy feat when you are trying to avoid the chilly driving rain slithering down your neck or the blast of cold wind slapping your cheeks. So, back straight, head up, I was in the shower yesterday and came to the startling realization that when I cast my eyes down, the mountain of my belly obscured the view of my feet. I presume they are still there. I even have photographic evidence that they, at one time, existed. I'm looking forward to making their acquaintence again. Oh yeah, and to see my wee one too! Bonus!

One down, two to go

This weekend has been incredibly windy. The National Weather Service even issued an advisory regarding the 50 MPH winds that are toppling trees, powerlines, and small children. But that's not all, folks!

Yesterday afternoon, the gusts were so strong that it ripped our crackheaded (literarily) neighbor's fence clean off the lock. Those mongrels? The banes of my existence? The filthy rags on paws who might be good if only the owners would show them some love, some soap and water, and some inside time at night? They were free. Uriah Heep was the first to bound outside and roll around in the grass (maybe for the first, maybe for the last, time). Darnell Wookieboots followed and after a few moments of stunned joy, began marking the ever car's tires and every house's fences. Cindy Lou, the mildest and perhaps most brainless of them all, stayed on the porch the whole time. Uriah found a man walking down the alley and in sheer happiness began circling him, jumping up on him (he could only reach his knees), and wagging his tail as fiercely as he could. Darnell ventured farther up the alley until we (looking on from the upstairs window) lost sight of him.

I had to attend a baby shower but when I returned, I got the full report: Darnell could not resist the enticing smells of the rotten garbage that had tipped over when our neighbor's fence slammed into the trash cans and knocked them over. He feasted and feasted until one of the neighbors figured out what was going on and dragged him back to the backyard and tied up the fence with some rope. Cindy did nothing, said nothing, and probably realized nothing. Uriah? Your guess is as good as mine. He may be frozen stiff and will thaw out in the spring. He may be still leaping and circling that stranger. He may have made it to Rock Creek Park and will live in paradise for the rest of his days. All I know is: one down.

Well, that, and this video rocks.

So it's come to this. There are a few bands playing this month and next that TP and I would like to see but until the smoking ban is instituted in D.C., I can't go. Instead, we spend our time doing things like watching seriously disturbed and disturbing Netflix movies, catching up on our reading, and spending no less than FIVE WHOLE MINUTES in the soy sauce aisle at the Asian grocery store. Nevermind that it's Restaurant Week in D.C. and we could be out on the town. But, I'm not complaining. My mouth is too full of Pocky Sticks.

Hear ye, hear ye. The results are in. Henceforth, ye shall refer to the wee one as MISTER baby robot pirate monkey, thank you very much. And, apparently, like father, like son: TP came home yesterday with a busted lip from his Hi-Yah! class and lately, the baby has taken up Hi-Yah! classes as well - especially right when I'm trying to snooze. Ah me. Now where did I put my mouthguard?

On tap for tonight: The Unwanted Woman.
Genre: Another one of those wacky Iranian films.
Cost: Free.
Place: The Freer.

As though the physical, emotional, and dietary changes aren't enough, it looks like my reading habits are undergoing a makeover as well. I got halfway through "The Shipping News" before E. Annie Proulx's curt writing style grated on my nerves and I put it away. I'm going to fall back onto some tried and true reading for now - J. D. Salinger, David Sedaris, William Goldman - but as for new books? Looks like "Eats, Poops & Leaves" is looming large in my future. Ah me.