Foresight
I had a great (in my opinion) post all ready to go just now. After spending a ton of time perfecting it I showed it to Ali who said I should rethink posting it “as it may not be good for your career.”
It is kind of ironic that someone who just a couple of days ago said, “This egg white omelette doesn’t taste very yolk-y,” has such foresight.
So my post tonight will be sub-par because after spending so much time on the aforementioned post I really don’t know what else to write. Plus I am operating at about 65 percent thanks to lack of food/water. But complaining during Ramadan is frowned upon so I’ll stop while I’m ahead and leave you with these 3 thoughts instead:
1. Jet Blue employee Steven Slater is NOT a hero, I do not admire him, and he’s going to regret his stupidity. If he gets a book and/or movie deal I might just throw myself over the Santa Monica Pier.
2. I will not be watching Eat, Pray, Love. I have more to say on this but anger and/or jealousy is also frowned upon during Ramadan so I’ll stop here.
3. Making banana muffins probably isn’t the best thing to do when you can’t eat, but baking with Maya was all I could come up with to keep her busy for 30 minutes. So muffins it was:
Killing Time During Ramadan Banana Muffins
- 1/3 cup white or brown sugar
- 1 egg
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 2/3 cups whole wheat flour
- 3/4 teaspoon salt
- 1/4 cup canola oil
- 1 ripe banana, mashed
- 1 ripe banana, sliced
- 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
- 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
- 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
- 1 tablespoon brown sugar
Mix the wet ingredients (except the sliced bananas) and then the dry ingredients (except the 1 T. of brown sugar) separately. Combine the wet and dry ingredients in one bowl until just mixed. Fill 6 muffin cups until 2/3 full, top with banana slices, sprinkle with brown sugar, and bake at 350 degrees for 20-25 minutes.
I’m off to not complain, be angry, jealous, lie, cheat, or steal. So basically, since there is nothing else to do, I’ll be going to sleep.
Good night!
Ramadan…Mubarak?
So today was officially the first day of Ramadan. For those of you who aren’t familiar with Ramadan allow me to give you a quick preview: for 30 days I am not supposed to eat, drink, swear, lie, or fight from approximately 4:40 am – 7:45 pm.
In other words, I cannot do much of anything I normally do on a daily basis. This is supposed to help me “reset” my priorities and realize what I should focus on for the next 11 months of the year.
This year I’ve promised myself that I am going to try to get something more out of Ramadan than just hunger. This must seem like a very obvious goal but honestly, it isn’t easy to execute.
While I struggle with my goal, allow me to share what I know will really happen in the next 30 days:
- I will wait until after sunset to swear, lie, or fight. It just can’t be helped.
- I will be in the worst mood.
- I will take it out on others (read: Maya).
- I will have a permanent headache.
- I will be even more impatient than usual and my mantra will be “I’m fasting for crying out loud, can’t you cut me some slack?”
- I will delve deep into the art of organizing in order to make the day go faster – the kitchen cupboards, my closet, and Ali’s desk are my on my to-do list.
- I will falter and swear while cleaning/organizing Ali’s desk because eliminating 11 months of bacteria and dirt will be even more challenging than fasting for 30 days.
- I will be freezing cold due to lack of food and my already low blood pressure, regardless of the temperatures outside. I will wear my grandma-ish cardigan and people will laugh at me. I will be too cold to care.
- I will become obsessed with perusing allrecipes.com. I will ironically spend most of my day planning what I am going to have for dinner.
Apparently I am not the only one obsessed with allrecipes.com...this year they have an entire "Ramadan" category for people like me.
A wise person once said that while time flies by, the 30 days of Ramadan seem like a year. I believe that my friends and family can attest to that. And if not, they certainly will by the time they’ve dealt with my bad mood for 30 days straight.
By the way, Mubarak = congratulations, but I prefer to save my Mubarak for the end of Ramadan. Call me crazy.
“I want to get married here too, Mama.”
I have another first to add to my last post…on Saturday I attended a wedding where the bride and groom danced to “All My Life” by K-Ci and JoJo.
Not impressed? How about if I tell you they danced to a live performance of “All My Life?”
Shock and awe was the theme of the evening and K-Ci and JoJo certainly kept to theme.
The wedding was phenomenal. I’m not sure what else to say.
I couldn’t stop staring at the bride because she was an absolute knockout. And not only could she easily be a Bollywood star but she is a successful doctor too, as is her new husband.
The smoke (steam?) made me feel like I was in the middle of a movie.
You know how sometimes you just look at people and think, wow, they have it all? Well I think these two really do. But the nice thing is that they totally deserve it because they are both super nice and they’ve clearly worked hard to get where they are.
As my dad would say, I need to take a lesson.
The room was gorgeous and all white. They even laid (lay?) white carpet over the floors which made the room even more luxurious.
Yes I wore this outfit before. In July. Luckily the local chapter of the Indian/Pakistani clothing police didn't fine me.
Almost all of the flower pedestals (Is that the right word? What is with me today?) and the numerous bars were all made of ice. I’ve never seen anything like it.
Ali and I left the wedding at 12:30 am but Maya was still going strong. Oh, and that bar back there? It is made of ICE.
Yeah, Maya is a shy one alright.
I am whatever the opposite of a social butterfly is. An introvert? A homebody? A loner? Anyway, since my husband is even less outgoing than I am, it really is bizarre that our child thrives in the limelight.
This would be a frame-worthy photo, if it weren't for the sleeve of my jacket and Ali's shoes...why are we incapable of taking good pictures?
“I want to get married here too, Mama.”
Sure Maya, no problem. But you’ll have to be about 50 before you take the plunge because it’s going to take us at least that long to save up.
While I'm not going to win Mother/Wife of the Year Award anytime soon, I haven't killed anyone yet or shot myself in the head. And that, my friends, is how I calculate success these days. 
FANCY THAT FANCY THIS 