This, applies to me on soo many levels.

For two years – I allowed myself to become a moron. I’ve been working – but without motivation. I’ve stopped pursuing all dreams simply cause it takes hard work to make dreams come true. I wanted my marriage to be a break from the grueling schedules & the burning ambition that makes no achievement look like an achievement.

So, for two years I’ve told myself that as long as I have the guy I love – I don’t really need to get high from actually doing something.

As a result, the memory has faded, the observation has dulled, the writing has become so automated that every single word, no matter how vital, stands out simply as an extra second. The social life is non-existent. And there are days when, I cant stop talking on the drive back home cause I haven’t said a word to anybody the whole day.

I’ve forgotten how to talk. I’ve forgotten how to write.

On the other hand, the Hubby joined journalism hardly a year back. He is now the Joint Secretary of a Journalist Forum & is known to all ministers & the like. His group of friends / acquaintances grows at an alarming rate.

But more importantly, I’ve started feeling like an inferior and THAT wouldn’t do at all. Needless to say, I’m more than ready to get out of this moronic rut & start actually doing something with life again.

So, here, today, I resolve to stop being a moron & start being the girl I was meant to be.

(This is NOT a review)

I have no idea what French Food tastes like & I’m not very keen to find out – but that doesn’t make one bit of difference to the fact that I’ve waited for Julie & Julia with bated breath for I don’t know how long.

The Master Print finally arrived in shops here yesterday.

To celebrate, Hubby got me TWO plates of AWESOME gol gappas & only someone who has pinned for Karachi type Gol Gappas for TWO years can imagine how happy finally finding some made me.

I have been pinning for the movie mostly cause as far as I know Julie Powell is the first person to get a movie deal for her blog. Yeah, technically, it is the book that has been turned into the movie – but the book is essentially based on the blog.

How heartwarming is it, to know that something as simple & approachable as a blog can get you all this?

It was great to see Julia Child in making – I do not own the legendary book , and of course haven’t seen her shows – but it is apparent why she enjoys the great rapport that she does.

So armed with Julie & Julia – a sajji from Bolan Sajji House – Coke & Coffee – we headed back home late last night. Hubby of course could not help rolling his eyes at the ‘sissy’ movie.

Post dinner, with steaming coffee & the blessed heater – Julie & Julia finally happened for me.

I AM itching to criticize a few aspects of the movie – but the truth is, it left me smiling AND I woke up happy. Both of which are enough to make me hold back any criticism & sing  praises of the movie.

Meryl Streep is wonderful as Julia Child. Amy Adams is not bad either but somehow, the blog voice of Julie Powell comes across as a little different. For example, the movie shows Julie idolizing Julia Child to a fault’ but on the blog Julie often had to say things like “So the moral is this: Julia Child is great and good and knows everything. But nobody know how to roast chicken better than you. Or me. As the case may be.”

Not saying she did not idolize Julia, just that the movie takes her devotion a few notches up.

I soo identify with so many things.

But mostly it is the fact that I remain the one who didn’t get it made like she was expected to – the one who never lived up to her potential. While friends move ahead & make a place for themselves in the world, I remain to date, nothing but a simple clog in the corporate wheel, with nothing to my own credit. How was it possible not to smile at Julie asking if it is normal to hate your friends.

Starting so many thing & letting them rot is again, something I can totally & completely identify with.

Uffff….. i wish I hadn’t written that – cause I don’t feel so happy anymore.

~Sigh~

I didn’t learn to cook anything though – I don’t know why I was hoping to – but it did give me a few ideas & the coming Sunday might just see me wrapping a marinated chicken in a pie  crust & baking it to a crisp. No Boned Ducks for me Thank You, I’m not that fearless yet!

Once upon a time there were three friends. They shared laughs & studies & projects & crushes – they argued, gossiped, planned, and fantasized – For four years they shared everything & then real life started. The friends parted with promises to keep in touch & not let the end of University become the end of their friendship. One moved to Dubai, one joined the entertainment industry & one, got hitched & married & worked only part time in a field totally different from the others.

They kept in touch – kind off.

But the phone calls dwindled & eventually became limited to special occasions. The priorities changed & so did the personalities. They met sometimes & tried to drag along the dying friendship.

Being in a different country also took its toll and one came back to awkward pauses and loads of ‘aurs’. She tried to mend the friendships but maybe didn’t put her heart into it.

Then, she fell in love & turned to the other two with the wonderful news – even before she had convinced the guy.

She started preparing for her wedding and needed help from the friends – but one was a new mom & the other was just not so warm anymore.

Then the new-mom told her that the other was all set to marry a class fellow – and she was the last one to know of it.

Anger arose – infused with confusion, of hurt & betrayal.

But good sense prevailed & congratulations were handed out – double dates & shopping trips happened. And then, she got married & moved to another city with promises of coming back for the other friend’s wedding.

But the new city proved to be lonelier than expected & she pinned for chats with friends. They seldom called & when she did, all they had to offer were complains of her not calling oftener.  Resentment grew.

A year passed. The wedding invitation came but on a mass email and without the attachment that was supposed to be the card. There was no word of Mayoon/Mehndi/Dholkis. There were no phone calls.

She called nonetheless – and they went unattended.

Then she got blamed for not calling.

After a few months she made up again. Called , texted & tried to chat. The calls are received politely, but never returned. The texts go unacknowledged. The chat sessions end with a brb after the greetings.

Now, the not-so-new mom, who has moved to another country, gives her the news that the other friend is expecting. She bugs her, to call & congratulate.

She wants to – and yet, when someone makes it very clear that they’d rather NOT have you in their life, should you really call and tell them you are happy for them?

From the rated blog. Mostly cause I need to update everyday for the NaBloWRiMo thing  & so far nothing  log worthy has happened.

Everyone whose reading; You have been tagged.also leave the link in the comments section.

The Rules
1. You can ONLY answer Yes or No!
2. You are NOT ALLOWED to explain ANYTHING unless someone messages or comments
you and asks!

Copy and paste this into your notes , delete my answers, type in your answers and tag as many of your friends as you’d like to.

1. Fallen asleep at work/school? YES.

2. Held a snake? NO!

3. Ran a red light? Yes.

4. Kissed anyone one of your Facebook friends? Yes

5. Been arrested? No.

Nigel Slater’s book Toast focuses on his family’s cooking. I read somewhere that he chose this name for the book, cause a simple toast is something only family or someone as close as family would prepare for you.

I haven’t been able to find book here as yet – but I’d love to read it. Food writing & especially the kind that talks about bonds forming around the dinning table have always fascinated me.

But Toast, appeals so much more because the name hints at breakfasts

Ages ago, probably when I was in college I read this short, sweet piece in Reader’s Digest. It was called Breakfast in bed (I think). It talked about this Sunday morning ritual that the writer’s parents had for decades.

Sunday breakfasts in bed – prepared alternatively by the wife & the husband every week – served on a beautiful breakfast tray that was given to them as  wedding gift.

It might have been the beautiful descriptions – of her father scooping up fresh snow from a snowstorm the previous night and making a mini snowman on top of fruit – or her mother picking fresh flowers and making the pancakes look exotic.

It might have been the warm feeling – of being loved – that the piece conveyed.

But ever since then, I was sure I wanted that in my life.

Of course, when life happens you start to notice the missing details.

If he doesn’t get up till I bring him breakfast in bed, how will he brush his teeth? If he DOES get up, what is the point of having it in bed instead of eating in the lounge more comfortably.

HOW can I enjoy breakfast when all the while I’m thinking about the crumbs on the bedsheet.

Where do we put the coffee mugs?

HOW can I eat boiled eggs every other Sunday when it is his turn to make the breakfast?

So, there went that dream.

But fact remains that breakfast is the only thing I cook with regularity. It is also the only time, I’m not too tired to care.

So, while the Sunday Breakfasts ritual didn’t take off – I was still determined to make breakfast something special no matter what.

But………….. Hubby turned out to be a creature of habit. He’d ask for the same omelet everyday. He’d suggest doughnuts every time I dared to cook something else & insist it wasn’t the breakfast, it was just this crazy craving he had.

So I started cooking the same stuff for him everyday. But started experimenting with my own.

I made the Dutch Baby – I made the Egg in a Nest – I made popovers – experimented with the French Toast batter.

I made Khagina, egg, chicken, cheese sandwiches. I used up leftover food & came up with weird concoctions .I even made alu poori only for myself.

Ofcourse, over time, the creature of habit took up the habit of tasting my breakfasts. And though I wish I was good enough a cook to make as many wonderful breakfasts as this woman – I think, I am beginning to enjoy breakfasts more than ever before.

It’s Sunday morning – it is pretty chilly & instead of breakfast, we are having brunch. I thought about making Alu-Puri again, but was out of a few spices,

So, on the menu is spicy, garlic herb bread, Hot & Sour Soup & a new twist on Baked Potatoes. I don’t know weather they all sound good together but they definitely taste awesome.

Happy Sunday Everyone.

The trouble with working out is, it requires oh-so-much effort.

I KNOW I need to start working out, I Know I need to get back in shape before I get fat enough to need more than a simple 10/15 minute workout to tone up – but darn, it is just so daunting a task.

I did find the perfect yoga for me at Harold’s Planet

Only issue is, it doesn’t seem to be working.

Hun ki karye?

Those of you who have a strong stomach(so as not to get nauseatic from the an overload of sickly sweetness) , can now win up to 3 lacs by taking part in PTV’s documentary competition, which is inviting 13-15 minute documentaries by December 15^th , on Shaheed-e-Wafa.

What’s that? You don’t know what a Shaheed-e-Wafa is?

Shame on you!

Who else but the bawafa biwi who got murdered by her own husband – and still gave him the Presidency of Pakistan as her Parting Gift!

The advertisement suggests you take one of the following angles

-          Muhib-e-Watan Pakistani.

-          Benazir Bhutto ,meri nazar main.

-          Khawateen kay huqooq ki alambardar, Benazir.

You get the basic idea I’m sure. Plus, they generously also add ‘or any topic of your choice featuring Benazir Bhutto.’

Hmmm……….

How about ‘Why is Shahee-e-Wafa constantly turning in her grave.’

It would of course be very statistical – I’ll calculate how many times, dear Zardari has added to her anguish by publicly proclaiming meri biwi dheshat gardi ki nazar ho gayi. Afterall, for someone who was wafa-dar enough to embrace shahadat for her husband, this whole deshatgardo ki nazar hona thing, must sound like an accusation of baywafai.

On a serious note, me and a reporter are actually considering sending in a revamped version of an investigative piece we did on her death anniversary last year.

We’d add all the things that were too sensitive to be aired. The SOTs about Rehman Malik & the DSP who was incharge of security that day – everyone knows what award Rehman Malik has reaped but the DSP was also given the charge of PM’s own city Multan.

There was also the matter of the ‘cause of death’. We could add back the SOTs that prove that a bullet was revived from her head.  Add the pictures taken IN the operation theatre. And maybe add a VO saying everything that we know but have no prove of – ofcourse, we would state is as a fact, rather add an innocent, yeh khabrain bhi samnay ayin kay…..

Hmmm….. only, I’m sure if we send that piece, instead of getting the 3 lacs, we’d end up paying more to save our skins.

A number of media organizations including ARY & Geo have decided to go on a week long no-sugar policy, so as to make a point against the rising sugar prices, We at Duny also went without sugar today, but not to make any point – simply cause there was no money for sugar. Actually there was no money for tea bags either or Milk Pack. All because, the Chief Finance Officer back in headoffice is being changed and we suddenly suffered a vacuum of signing authority.

Yeah- apparently, the CFO himself has to approve the budget of everyday tea consumption.

WHY HASN’T NOBODY INFORMED THESE BUSINESSMEN WHAT TEA MEANS TO A JOURNALIST?

Ugh!

The day was ofcourse dull. In addition to no teas, there has been no work AT all. In the last eight hours or so I have checked ONE single script & that too for a stupid  70 seconds report. I spend HOURS redecorating the stupid farm on facebook. My eyes are oh-so-tired now.

I want to go to espresso and eat a huge chunk of cheese cake but with the CFO fiasco I think I should save cause God know, how long the salary is going to take this time.

Is it polite to ask people you are visiting for the first time why they don’t live with the parents? A friend of Hubby’s visited yesterday & spent around ten minutes just trying to understand WHY we don’t live with his family.

Now, we are smart enough to keep the ‘ we want our independence & privacy’ reason to ourselves and answer these questions with a simple ‘there isn’t enough space at their place to accommodate a couple’. But despite that, he proceeded to interrogate Hubby about the number of siblings he has, the number of roms they have at the in-laws place, blah-de-blah-de-blah and finally arrved back at,, ‘ but why do you two live alone?’

What is with that?

I’ll think by the time one has earned the right to ask such a question, they’d already be close enough to know the answer without asking.

I want to go Karachi.

And I found out, that the annual leave is just for 15 days, not a month.

This all is sooo pointless.

Hum siyasatdaan nahi hongain to phir peer hongain, aur baqi sab mureed hongain.Tu jab tak hum syasat dan hain, ap kay pass buhut acha muqa hai, humari islah karnay ka! PM Yousuf Raza Gillani.

Wah! I like this quote.

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Someone died in our neighbor hood today. I don’t know who, even though the family had kept rows of chairs facing our place, right on our ramp. I don’t know who died, cause the only neighbors I even know the names of are the people who live downstairs. I wonder if I’d even know their names if we weren’t haring gas bills, the porch & the at times the terrace.

My mom would hang her head in shame! She is so social & nice that all muhallay ki aunties are sharing their secrets with her after two days of knowing her. She is the shoulder everyone cries on  & depends upon for advise and what not.

Why am I so antisocial?

I’ve been in Islamabad for two years & I haven’t made ONE friend.

Sucks.

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In the news world, Geo, Express, Dunya, ARY, Saama, KTN & some other channel’s heads met up today and unanimously agreed to stop live coverage of terrorist attacks / blasts and such. I’m glad. Even though I’ll still be seeing the raw footage & taking out the air-able shots, atleast millions wouldn’t have to witness the full extent of horror live.

IN other news, Altaf Hussain is such a huge joke! WHY doesn’t the rabta committee get him some public speaking lessons! I assume everyone has heard the infamous shabaash speech – I heard two minutes of him telephonic address in Gilgit Baltistan today & he had gotten like four words out in all 120 seconds! Maagaaaaar………………………………….awaaaaaaaaaaaaaam………………….., magar awaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam…………………

I don’t know whats up with that!

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The most important development of today, for me, has to be the resignation of the Executive Director News of the channel. Since the blog is semi-anon only & the media’s world an ultra small one, I’ll reserve comments on this one. J

As per a  credible source from one of the agencies, two police barracks in a specific sector of the Capital, have been evacuated to accommodate Black Water agents – who have reportedly been called in to ‘train’ our local law enforcers.

This information comes, just two days after the Ministry of Interior admitted to the Qaumi Salamti Committee that 400 plus American agents from various agencies are indeed present & active within the capital city.

Bear in mind that only last week two Americans were accidentally arrested, then portrayed as Afghans & finally released without as much as a warning– An IG, within Supreme Court premises was heard saying that he ‘had only used his legal, rightful authority’ when ordering their release – add various incidents involving American agents mocking, threatening & even man handling our own law enforcers – and then decide what this latest move could mean for Pakistan.

Also, I know atleast two channels now have this information – lets see when & how does the mainstream media venture to break this story.