AbezAbez Is... 50% White, 50 % Pakistani, Muslim Hijab-wearing type female, Daughter of Momma, Sister of Owlie Wife of HF, Momma of Khalid, a special little boy with Autism, and Iman, a special little girl with especially big hair, Writer, Graphic Designer, Editor, Freelancer, Blogger, Inhaler of Chocolate
Right Brain Left Brain Islam poetry
Mortal Wounds BebeFiles Husbandfiles

 
My sister, De Owl

My Husband, who never updates!

Mona, who I don't visit enough

Hemlock, who I don't hug enough

Baji, the orginal robot monkey pirate

Prometheus, who buts brains to blog about Autism

Socrates, a blogger with Asperger's

Jo, a funnier Autism mom with a great blog

Autism Watch-  for logic-based information

ASAT- Assosciation for Science in Autism Treatments

Quack Watch- for current news and info on all sort of medical treatments

Expat Women Blog Directory

My Cousin- really, he's my cousin.  Wish he would update more.

 
 
 
 

Wednesday, April 23, 2003

Two fish sitting in a tank. One turns and says to the other, ‘Hey, you know how to drive this thing?”

Amazingly, this week has gone been much faster than previous weeks. Maybe that’s because I’ve been putting off all my work till the last minute, and the clock seems to move much faster when you’re running against it. he he. I haven’t even dreaded work in the morning! This is incredibly amazing! And it can’t last. Maybe my happiness has something to do with a change in atmospheric pressure, or the Aurora Borealis, or maybe the waffles we had for dinner. I think I must have the greatest mother in the world...I come home from work and there’s breakfast for dinner, quite often actually. Seriously, I love it, and her.

I think I’ll devote today’s blog to my momma.

My Momma
by Abez

My momma is the greatest momma in the world. For lunch she makes me dinner, for dinner she makes me breakfast, and for breakfast, she makes a mess.

My momma is full of wisdom and insight. One day, after we had turkey legs for dinner, she moaned and cried out, “Ooooh, I feel so guilty...now some poor turkey is walking around without its legs!!” My momma says things like, “Pour boiling water on his head,” and, “Us is two and she is one.”

My momma is nuts in the most fantastic way. She got a perm a day before a party, and it was unnaturally stiff. But instead of moaning about it, she went to the party and told everyone to call her Fifi the French Poodle.

My momma is ten times better than Aniraz’s momma. I love her lots. The End.
_________________

Hey, I learned how to play backgammon! One of my students taught me, it was very sweet of her. Backgammon is kind of a combination between Ludo/Parchesi and Mancala. (Sorry if you guys have played neither of these games, they’re both fun though, trust me) I enjoyed it, and maybe (with our powers combined!) we can start a backgammon club or something, me plus another one of my friends, plus three of my students who play, and anyone else who is willing to learn and likely to bring good food to the party. Yee-Haw!

Actually Islamabad is a great place for do-it-yourself socialization. Everyone is fully aware of the fact that everyone else is bored stiff, so once you discover some nice people, the first thing you do is form a club and try to convince other people to join it. That’s kinda how English Night came into being. I’m also a founding member of a book-club (Hi Dawn! Hi Jennifer! Hi Maria! Hi Sonia!) where we talk briefly on the book of the month and extensively on everything else under the sun. So far we’ve had one meeting. I think it went well. The next one is coming up soon, and we’re reading that macabre Roald Dahl book I mentioned earlier.

And here’s our Islamic quote of the day: "Be sure we shall test you with something of fear and hunger, some loss in goods or lives or the fruits (of your toil), but give glad tidings to those who patiently persevere." 2:155

This blog is coming off as kinda sub-standard too, but what can I say. My eyeballs hurt and I can’t concentrate. Urgh. I have the heebie-jeebies too, y’ani I’m all grossed out because termites crawled out of the kitchen drain again. Now I can’t help but feel like they’re crawling all over my skin, ::shudders::: Filthy little buggers. I beat them once, fair and square, why don’t they know when to quit!?! Hmmph. When I’m rich and famous (and when pigs fly and Bush talks sense) I’m going to make termites illegal. Thus sayeth Abez.

Tamma.

 
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