earthquake relief effort

for those of you in cincinnati & surrounding areas -

we're planning a fundraising dinner and supply drive for the victims of the recent earthquake in south asia. we need all the volunteers we can get to assist in these efforts. please join our yahoo group if you're willing to help out in any way! for more info, please visit: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/cincy2005earthquakerelief

everyone else -
please donate generously. for a link to aid organizations, click here.


fyi: bloody aftertastes do not diminish the amazingness that is diet vanilla coke

for inquiring minds, the anesthesiologist was the perfect amount of very cute but not hot. that man was born to do what he does. he completely knocked me out. as i lay there looking like a troll with the world's largest surgical gown and my hair in a shower cap fro, he told me i had beautiful teeth, which made me completely forget that i was moments away from entering into a comatosed state. it was one of the most perfect compliments ive ever received. it was simple, it had nothing to do with the context, it was completely unexpected, and most importantly, there was no motive whatsoever for it. somehow when you receive a completely random compliment moments before surgical tools dig into your face it removes the cheese factor and turns what would otherwise be a generic attempt to cheer someone up into the perfect compliment. anyway, that was my last conscious memory before surgery. if i was a writer i would put that scene into a book. its like a movie in my mind. i even have the perfect background music.

i regained consciousness a few hours later. my post surgery state can be summed up with this:

massive pain, blood, 5 inch nasal packing that felt like it was poking into my brain, bandaged swollen face, pain, the worst sore throat ive ever had (from the tubes they stuff down your throat during surgery), too much medication, pain, bedrest, dizzy spells, im so ugly now moments, tv, suppositories (sorry), flowers, pain, love.

going through severe pain is beneficial in ways though. it gives you time to think about things you need to think about. i needed that blessing.

after the packing came out, there was a world of difference in my ability to ignore the pain. you really do get used to it. my first active day was the day of saima's shower. exhausting but fun. she seemed happy which made it all worth it. yesterday, was picnic day. blah i feel like im writing in caveman sentences. thats probably a signal to end this post. my brain feels like i have salt water sloshing through it. 22222222222222222222222222222


maybe my anesthesiologist will be cute. dont want hot. just cute.

im leaving for my surgery in a few minutes. scared. dont think. if i end up looking like michael jackson afterwards and never leave my house again (i'm vain), i love you all. everyone one of you. even the weirdo that left that weirdo comment. i love you.

okay, so i have a few more minutes to leave so ill write about something any normal human being would think about minutes before they leave to have surgery. reality tv.

i've discovered that you can tell what kind of day i'm having based on my opinion of reality tv on that given day.

theres some days when i tell people that i never watch reality tv. hah.

theres other days when i vacuously watch some random reality tv show while im arduously contemplating about whether i should eat ice cream or not. my opinion on reality tv gets clouded out by my indecisiveness about whether anyone would really notice if i gained 78 lbs or not. (i usually conclude that no one would notice and go ahead and eat the ice cream.) its hard to form conclusive opinions about important subjects when youre constantly pacing back and forth to the fridge.

sometimes im having a i'm-engaged-in-society political kind of day and i issue fatwas about how reality tv stars do not represent islam or all muslims. then i mail them to thomas friedman.

then theres always a few angry-with-life kind of days where i'll go on a tirade (to myself) about how at least people on reality tv are actually willing to admit to the world that they crave fame and would do anything for money. those are the days when i respect the creative aspect of the sluttiness, bc anyone can go to a good school and get some boring job and marry some hot boring robot with the right pedigree and slut themselves out that way. but it takes creativity and negative brain mass to think that you can skip a few steps, and become audrey hepburn just for being a skanky drama queen with a bunch of people who have nothing better than to eat beef jerky all day. theres always a place in my heart for sheer stupidity. dreams can come true.

gross. why am i talking about reality tv? i dont even watch it.


vote for summer!

theres a special congressional election here in ohio for district 2 (that includes a lot of you cincy subarbanites - dist 2 includes part of hamilton county, warren, clermont, brown, and a few other boofoo counties) on august 2. remember to vote!!!

paul hackett (d)
jean schmidt (r) [yuck]

info on the candidates:
today's ny times article on hackett;
citybeat endorsement of hackett ;
enquirer election coverage

and for anyone living in the city of cincinnati, remember the election for mayor is on sept 13. for a list of the candidates, click here.

for general voter/election info in the state of ohio, click here.

to find out where to vote or if youre in the 2nd cong. dist., click here.


All Ears for Tom Cruise, All Eyes on Brad Pitt

thank you.


maybe i should just apply to be an existentialist detective, get hired, & then get fired for sucking at what i do.

i am convinced that i have lost at least 85% of any intelligence that i might have once possessed. thats really sad when you consider that even at my peak, my intelligence probably amounted to a microscopic puddle of dribble that came out of a goat's mouth in a petting zoo in lahore during the middle of august. why do i think that i can help anyone with this fellowship project im developing? i feel like puking on myself over and over again. lather. rinse. repeat.

i'm in one of those overly dramatic identity crisis moods again. the timing of my moods is starting to get so predictable that even im starting to get bored by them. but boredom has never catapulted me into productivity before, so of course, ill stay true to my nature and indulge myself with yet another disgusting cry-cry-cry-im-so-useless rant again. deja vu be damned.

i always make myself feel better by reminding myself that at least im not doing something as uninteresting with my life as using my law degree as a means to trade up an ugly ann taylor suit for a thats-so-five-minutes-ago marc jacobs one. (now if the trade up was for anything from
chanel's 2005 rtw collection - an uninteresting life would more than make up for it. of course, if i was the type of lawyer who not only could afford karl lagerfield's saliva inducing works of geniusness, but who could also pull off wearing it to work, i wouldnt exist. ugh, shut up. nice, this blog entry is such classic stupidsamar. im dementedly talking to myself in yet another completely unnecessary parenthetical statement AND tangenting on an inane superficial comment that no one else in the universe cares about all at the same time. the previous few sentences define me. if i ever have to send a rishta resume, i'm sending this parenthetical statement. actually, the sick skankness of it all is actually making me kind of like myself again. and for the cherry on top of this superficial sundae, i'm going to let you all know that last year during one of my meditative retreats to tj maxx, i found a gray tahari suit that was missing a price tag that obviously had been mistakenly placed in the clearance section. i know it was a mistake bc i saw similar tahari suits in the non-clearance section. i took it up to the sales person and asked him how much it was and told him i found it in the clearance section. i guess another important part of the story is that i already knew the salesman was a pervy muslim guy due to an earlier typically nauseating immigrant muslimmale in ohio pickup line he had used when i walked in, i.e., "are you a muslim? subhan'allah sister. its so beautiful to see a muslim woman in hijab. only a man she marries should see such heavenly beauty blah blah blah." so i took the gorgeous worldly possession up to the guy and blinked a few times. i was worried i might be overdoing it bc ive been told before that my intentional attempts at being coy make me seem like i have a tick, but the guy ignored the fact that i might possibly have turrets or maybe he just didnt care. such a sweet, sweet man. anyway, he randomly entered $25.99 into the computer and let me buy a gorgeous tahari suit for 25.99. the best part is, i dont feel guilty at all. oops, i forgot that i'm still inside a parenthetical statement. full stop.)

wow, im so off track i completely forget what i was ranting about earlier. hmm maybe my tangents are a self defense mechanism through which i avoid dealing with my insecurities. im so introspective, arent i? gross. i hate people who say "arent i?". perfect. now i hate myself again. ok, so back to my identity crisis of the moment. im starting to wonder whether whoring myself out to my ego by being a pseudo do gooder is worse than whoring myself out to some big firm for 84902340320 hours a week. at least then i wouldnt have the time to worry about the amount of brain cells ive lost.

what if i dont even get this fellowship? or even more disturbing, what if i get it and i start to pretend that i even remotely understand what these women go through? what if my project is reinforcing the same underlying patriarchal notions that theyre supposedly escaping? ahfkljadflsajflafd;jf/. i hate when my mind freezes like this and i feel paralyzed. ok i seriously have to stop. someone give me some vicodin.

oh and speaking of diminishing brain power, good luck to everyone taking the bar in the next few days. a million-zillion prayers and well wishes for everyone who is taking it!!! i just cant wait to feel your hell in february.


the round up for this week

i watched charlie & the chocolate factory last weekend. its one of the most beautifully delicious movies ive seen in awhile. tim burton is a visual genius. johnny depp is one of the most interesting actors alive today. anyway, it was nice to revert back to being an 8 year old for a little while.

i have a lot of respect for teachers who teach teenagers and actually get them to engage in what theyre learning without slapping them 3 times first. my sincerest apologies to all my sunday school teachers.

for the past week and a half, i have had to wear my ugly nerd glasses for reasons other than sheer lazyness or waking up 3 minutes and 45 seconds before i was supposed to head out the door. this time my excuse for looking like a harry potter reading freak* is because i was scheduled to have lasik eye surgery earlier this week. wearing glasses with hijab is traumatic. its almost as traumatic as wearing the huge grapefruit shaped pink glasses that my mom bought for me in pakistan that i had to wear all throughout middle school. although, i have to admit i kind of loved my ugly glasses too. thats the bipolar in me. sometimes its nice to be an ugly non harry potter reading harry potter look alike. im going to miss wearing my ugly glasses. maybe ill just poke the lenses out and wear them anyway whenever i feel the need to extra ugly myself up.

anyway, back to my adventures in lasik surgery. so i went to the lasik center on monday thinking that the whole procedure would be over in about an hour. little did i know that dilating eye drops are racist against brown people too. the average person who gets lasik only needs 1 set of the dilating eye drops to sufficiently dilate their eyes. i needed 7. keep in mind, that these demented drops BURN. so blah blah blah cry for me blah blah. anyway, so they go ahead and do the rest of the prep stuff, including giving me some vicodin. finally i think im ready to go and they get me in the laser room and the dr tells me that he doesnt like the pictures that the technician took of my eyes before they were dilated so he cant perform the surgery since he needs a picture of my eyes in their pre-dilated state. so he sends me home with insanely dilated eyes and drugged out on vicodin and tells me to come back the next day. also, bc my eyes are extra dilated, he tells me that im not allowed to watch tv, use the computer, read, drive, or be in bright light without these insanely ugly goggles on. lovely. so i basically have to either sleep the whole day or sit in a shadow and come up with my own version of shadow puppet theater. not an entirely bad way to spend a day.

anyway, so i go back the next day, and they get me all ready again, and the dr tells me that my eyes should have gone back to their normal state by then, but theyre still overly dilated and probably wouldnt go back to normal for another 24-48 hours. ecstatic, i couldnt wait to go back home and sit in more shadows. there was one good thing about my crazy eyes though, the insanely clear night vision. that, i would love to keep.

so now im about to leave for round iii at the lasik center. hopefully, i dont come out a vicodin addict with racoon eyes.

*note: i have never read a harry potter book and do not plan on starting anytime soon. thank you, freaks.