i've had it up to here with rules. i just want to misbehave now that i'm on vacation. where do i sign up for savage night every night?

ssslurp. there goes my energy

the term loosies has been dubbed by mummy. it will from now on replace the word potties in the phrase i got the potties. thank you. carry on folks

last day of school. sweet summer. just got done with my physiology exam. don't want to talk about it. for various reasons. mainly because i'm officially on vacation. gotta go hang out with my posse. peace out

a tripple treat. no. a triple threat. maybe

sometimes i'm in such a hurry i don't know what else to take with me

on the road again...peace out i town...here we come lhr!

theme of the road trip to and from lhr: plains of the punjab [said in that still under british rule accent]. there's a clip available to help you practice how to say it. please email me for details

we were supposed to leave for lahore to attend fati's wedding and hang out with dita like hours ago. i hope we make it cause i really want to see both of them. haven't seen them in 2 years! is it me or is it the hottest day in the year today? irritability: all time high

i want to go to lahore for my friend's wedding tomorrow. don't know if i'll get all my work done before then. pray for me please

not sure if i'm needed in this conversation even. funny kid tho

i tried my hand at the kitchen today. well technically it wasn't all me. one of mummy's cousins comes over hinting he hasn't had lunch. mummy suggests i go heat up some parathas [how do i even translate that? potato mix in oily dough?] and get the raita [marlene's translation: yogurt sauce] from this afternoon. oh and get something thanda [cold]. so i venture into the kitchen going over my plan thinking
1. a quick spin in the microwave
2. some resorting of yogurt in a bowl
3. just add water and ice to some tang
7 minutes max and i'll be out of this heat. nooo. why would it be that easy? first i'm intercepted by the cook. who gives me the don't try to make that pb&j again without my help this is my domain look. i ask innocently about leftovers from lunch to give him his due importance. he says there's masala [potato mix] and ataa [dough] in the fridge. i think oh forget this. i don't like our guest that much anyway. while i'm analyzing the contents of the fridge and re evaluating my plan of action he says he'll make it. i say no it's ok. he says he'll do it [reading into my no it's ok meaning oh really? you'll do it? even if it's hot enough to denude skin from your hands and face just standing there? i don't want to be too much trouble but i will if i can disappointed face]. i figure alright he can take care of step 1 and i'll start on step 3 [see plan above]. no tang on site. there. mango squash. check. ice from the little ice trays. check. jug. check. spoon. check. i've got all my equipment with me. now for some fun. i've never made mango squash. that's ok. look cool. just taste test. how bad could it be? after 5 minutes of struggling [5 minutes is a long time when you're struggling] the cook finally asks me if i put sugar in. doh. who puts sugar in mango squash? distracted by my shortcomings in the kitchen i didn't realize my stirring had gotten out of control and not only was i splashing all over the place but the jug was leaking. grand. we transfer the contents into another jug. if he were to sigh in exasperation i would be ok with that. i wouldn't be surprised if i was at myself. well at least the easier part of the job was done. now i can't find the raita because it's in one of several yogurt containers [nobody believes in tupperware cause the halde [if you're desi it's the reason for your thumb and forefinger to have that yellow tinge...i forgot the actual name for the spice] ruins it] i'm searching faster and faster because the heat is getting to me. all of sudden there it is. on my toes. somehow i opened the container and it spilled out. genius. i don't even bother making eye contact this time. i just ask where i could find a rag and he says he'll take care of it. i felt so bad. i go to the kitchen after a good year to do something and i'm what nightmares are made of in a matter of seconds. kher. he was done with the paratha. i was done scooping out the good stuff into a bowl and cleaning off my toes. and tada! a feast for kings in 15 minutes. minus the spilled sticky mango stuff on the table and the broken jug and the yogurt mess on the floor and toes and the fact that he made the paratha and fixed the juice it was easy. i should do this again some time

swimming pool politics. there's a group of ladies who don't really swim. they come to talk. they talk about weight loss and fad diets and calories and mostly complain. i have yet to see them swim a length. smalls and i are the pool snobs. we don't talk to anyone. we don't make eye contact. if we find something funny it's only what one of us says to the other. we do it on purpose too. they find that odd. they think we're shy and try to make polite conversation with us but little do they realize we're just jerks. anyway they don't like that we don't talk. enough to talk about us. we know they talk about us. they look at us and talk about us. i was there by myself recently. no smalls as my sidekick. i'm swimming my laps. and oh i can do the whole length underwater now. i'm showing off. may Allah swt forgive me. so this group of ladies. nay. gang of non swimmers. they're watching me right. like i'm their next meal. i notice this every time i surface. i guess this means i'm watching them right back. but i have no choice they are closing in at the spot i end up at in the shallow end. before my last few laps this one woman strays from the pack. walks right in front of me! the nerve! i mean i don't care if they don't swim but let me swim my one breath lap. ok i'm showing off again. i should just stop writing about it. i guess i'll continue this once i'm over myself

why am i not on vacation?

who's gonna help me find some cheap tix from atl to dc any 3 to 4 days from july 19th to july 27th?

don't you hate it when people read your blog but won't message you and when you say what's up they actually say they're reading your blog? ok it's only happened with this one person. yeah i'm talking to you!

why is it that i'm reminded of everything else and paying attention to everything else than what i'm supposed to be on the prayer rug? ya Allah swt please help

for mummy's birthday i got her something on the sly and surprised her with it. today she looked at my account and confronted me with oh you got it for this much? daaa

happy birthday lb!

i talked to one of my friends about this the other day. people scent. i have a favorite scent. it's the mummy scent. it's always in the chadar she prays in. i'm glad she's here

it's as hot as sin here. how am i expected to work?

*strrrech* i'm lazy

the other day while i'm sitting in the lecture hall trying to concentrate on a discussion on body fluid compartments i recall my friend marlene saying i don't know what it is i feel like i'm the fertility fairy. so i started smiling and then a giggle escaped and now i could easily be considered a crazy. what can i not expect to hear?

there's no room for boredom. once upon a time a friend of mine and i came to the conclusion that as a muslim you can't be bored. there's always something you should be doing. or something you could be doing better. say i'm bored. i could go read Quran. i could teach myself arabic. i could teach others how to be better muslims. much i could

thing i like to think i take credit for was ofcourse not my idea but i want to wish you guys a happy one and i don't know how to start doing that except by saying yo aniraz i told you she would be busy and boring and married and you can come visit me any time. ok i didn't mean that. what i meant is i wish you happiness. yous guys are in my duas as you already know this

happy anniversary pacifistic and musicalchef! may Allah swt grant you with many more years together filled with joy, kindness, patience and love. i miss both of you!

what's your ugliest laugh? do it right now. now think about what you just did. the shame

my baby monkey is back. he's not a baby anymore though. he's still monkey-esque. i don't know what that constitutes but it's a lot of hair. good to have him around talking at 101wpm until the point i wanna smack him. anyway he's reading this and acting like he's slow. or so he thinks he's acting like he's slow. or. ok. over and out

how far do you go to be nice? would you do something you really didn't want to? like say yes to a banana milkshake? drink it even if you want to hurl the glass across the room against the opposite wall? deeper questions plague me but this is right now affecting my tummy the most

rafay's dropped his cheeks. i'm furious with him. i know you really shouldn't get upset with a 2 year old. but what is this? where is the respect?

it doesn't matter how much you force someone to do something if it's not in their heart they'll never do it. so how do you get a person to realize what's good for them is actually what is good for them? if their intentions are not coinciding with what is good for them then how do you change that?

smalls and i were taking a walk to the e7 market. on our way back this little girl starts following us.
me: kidar ja rahi ho [where are you going]
her: ghar [home]
me: tumara naam kya hay [what's your name]
her: taba [taba]
me: [pointing to smalls] iska naam be taba hay nahi yay saba hai [her name is taba too oh no wait she's saba]
her: mera naam be taba hai [my name is saba too]
*smalls and i exchange glances*
me: kitnay saal key ho [how old are you]
her: taat [saat = seven]
*smalls and i giggle to ourselves*
me: kider raiti ho [where do you live]
her: taat he raiti houn [saat = close, i live close by]
apparently there's a girl named taba who's taat and live taat to us hahhhahhaha

i'm so drowsy right now. thanks to some antihistamines. so i was at the dermatologist earlier because i was mad itchy all over. inside my elbows and behind my knees and on my knuckles i was getting these hives. in the middle of all the scratching, redness, swelling and warmth i called up mummy wanting to speak to abu ji to make sure that none of the medications would react badly with the immunosuppressants. meanwhile s mammi was talking to the doctor. and after a little while regarding my abu ji he says. and i quote. he was a dermatologist at PIMS. i remember him. he was a very handsome man. he had bright blue eyes
AAAAAAAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAA
ok for one i can never get used to people saying my parents are attractive although it's happened enough times. second, abu does not have blue eyes. but i really didn't want to break it to him right then. still oh so funny