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
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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.

 
 
 
 

Friday, December 24, 2004

Hemmistan Zindabaad

I have the pictures for the next riveting installment of ‘Murree in Pictures,’ but I’m not posting them today because Hemmie is coming tomorrow and I feel as though I should blog in her honor. And plus Hello, the program I use to post pics on the blog, won’t let me login. *brandishes fist at monitor*

So about Hemmie. Once upon a time there was this Pakistani kurri named Hemmie who started a blog and managed to type in the accent of a Briton and the attitude of a pro-wrestler. Don't ask me how she does it, just believe me when I say that Hemlock, for all her muscular WWF facade, is one of the sweetest, nicest, and genuinely good people I know. She’s too good, in fact. She makes me look bad. Which is why I try not to have her over more often than every other month or so. But I digress.

Now for secret insider information that Hemmie will kill me for sharing. (mwahahaaaa!) Hemmie maintains that traffic in Lahore isn’t actually bad. I maintain that’s because she’s the scariest thing on the road, but so long as she manages to get us from point A (Daewoo Station) to point B (house with bed) I’m content to close my eyes and hold on. And to recite Ayat-ul Kursi. And to repent of my sins. And to enjoy the montage of my life as it flashes before my eyes.

Hemmie is the middle child and one of three. She’s also the type of little sister who will call her brother on his cell phone just to bug him and will buy him shirts just because she thought he would like them.

She treats her own little sister, Demi-Hemmie, like a princess and is part of one of the nicest, most loving, and most down to earth families I know. A lot of what I learned about hospitality, I learned from Hemmie’s house. Granted, I should unlearn it before other people see what bad manners I have (dinner at midnight, breakfast at three pm, dessert at Hotspot in the wee hours of the morning, Hemmistan Zindabaad!).

Hemmie calls me beta and darling and she insisted on sleeping on the floor when we stayed in her house but couldn’t find her bed because it was buried under a K-2 of books and clothes. She dumped all the stuff off the bed and dragged the mattress into the room we were staying in. See, that took physical effort, and you know she’s going out of her way when something looks like exercise, hehe.

Hemmie’s the kind of person who would give you the shirt off of her back and maybe even the pants to go with it. She even let me graffiti her desk in dust and left it there for weeks. The housekeeper eventually got around to wiping it off, and Hemmie told me she was sorry about that. Bless her for lying. Next time I go back, I’m using permanent marker.

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