Random Stupidity

I'm updating my blog 'cause it was depressing and I'm not depressed anymore.

We've actually been busy, socially, these past few days. We took Oleg out to the Food Court and ate typically badly prepared food. Oleg had a burger and fries, I had Afgani pilao. The girls had chat and slimy sweet and sour chicken. The chat was probably the only thing that tasted as it should. The girls told Oleg that if you want your food to taste like it is supposed to, stick to Pakistani stuff.

Yesterday blogger Hemi came up from Lahore and we ended up at a nice restaurant in F-10 called Italian Oven. I think everyone actually enjoyed their food and I think that is a first for dinning in Pakistan. The decor was very nice, but the menu was full of "Engrish" typos. I had Gralic Shrimp and soup. We were tempted to order the Maxigan Byrger, but passed on it. As I said, the food was good, but not worth the price. Home cooking Zindabad!!!

This afternoon, we had a girlie brunch. Unfortunately, Hemi's ride arrived before she could even eat. The girls packed her brunch to-go. (We missed your craziness, Hemlock. Hurry back and stay longer. That's an order.)

Went to work, and am getting 4 new students, possibly an ambassador. Abez has taught him before and says he's a terrible student who only wants to practice his spoken English, doesn't do his homework and misses class for weeks. I don't know if I could ever address anyone as "Your Excellency" with a straight face. I'm such an American. Hopeless really. I'll soon have 2 housewives, 2 diplomats and one ambassador as my students. Guess who are the best students... the housewives. They do their homework and rarely miss class.

It's relatively cool here nowdays. I actually had to roll up the window on my way back from work.

There are lots of sunflowers growing in the park nearby. I pick a fresh bouquet everyday. It's so nice to have their bright yellow faces smiling at me from the dinning table everyday. It makes me sad when they go out of season.

Very random.

I need a new life, this one's defective.

I like to use my blog as a sort of humor column to help me see the funny side of reality. But what can I do when this past week has been traumatic and stressful in a very personal way? I need a secret blog where I can write about my real life. Here's a censored version of what it would be like:

Last Wednesday, Hubby and I were in Karachi visiting his brother, rested and happy from our recent trip to the UAE, glad that **** had concluded interviews with the *** while on their recent *******. We were very glad that they had returned safely with the only bad event they reported was their ******* going off the deep end as he is known to do occasionally.
Hopefully, that is the end of family secret #1.)

Our buoyant spirits were interrupted when ***** walked into the house. He had been staying in Islamabad with ***** and ****. Something was wrong...Hubby called home, no answer, called the restaurant, and got the horrible news that*******. We returned later that evening and found ************************. Family secret # 2 had emerged!

Four days of family crisis ensuded, during which, *************************!

Sunday, I went to Church and spoke to three people. They all asked how ***** was doing and my answer was, "**************************************." That threw me into a blue funk. After the service, I was the first one to leave, I didn't want to hang around to talk to any more people. I drove like a hellion the whole way and swatted a beggar boy away from my car window at the stop light at F-10. (That made me feel even worse, like even God couldn't love a hypocrite like me.) I came home and sulked in my bed for most of the afternoon. I suppose that explains why my usual Sunday blog was delayed.

There is one funny thing we observed this week. Abez went to the doctor and he asked, "How's your family doing? Your father told me about what' s been happening." Abez didn't know if he was referring to family tragic secret #1 or #2. She assumed he was talking about #2 and blithely said, "*******************." The stunned look on his face revealed her mistake. We later discussed the need to give our friends security clearance codes. How can we remember who knows what when there are so many family traumas and secrets afloat? Now when a family friend asks, "How's the family doing?" We will respond, "What is your security clearance code?" and then proceed from there. No more stunned looks. No more breaches in family security.

Today, I slept late, ate breakfast, did 1/2 the crossword and promptly went back to bed; lay there in the heat and humidity, sulking and depressed till I slept, woke up, ate (do you see a reoccurring pattern here?) I am going to try to pull myself out of this funk by walking down the road to cut some wild sunflowers. That is my life. And that is why I need a new one.