A long awaited update

Yes yes, we know, we know. We've heard your clamoring for a new post, and indeed, the day has finally arrived.

The Move

First of all, I think it's important to note that I HATE MOVING. Now, I realize some of you readers out there may be thinking, "so what, we all hate moving...", but I mean I really hate moving. I mean I hate moving like Mrs. Brisby hates moving.


So in the weeks before the move, as Tahera dilligently worked, it was my job to pack up the house. Needless to say, given that the last time packing up was my sole responsibility I essentially just threw EVERYTHING in one box, my packing skills left much to be desired.

It just bugs me that the more you pack, the messier the house looks, and the more disorganized your life gets. It feels nearly impossible to pack up most of the rooms of your home because you keep needing the crap you're trying to pack up.

At any rate, due to my deep, deep aversion to packing, we found ourselves working late into the night throughout the last days leading up to our commandeering the rental truck (read: behemoth)

When moving day arrived, we had secured a formidable cadre of dilligent helpers to help load, caravan, and unload the entire fiasco. Boy oh boy, will they never do that again...

The morning of the move, myself and my best bud Matt Oldfield (He and Angela made the trip up from Horseheads on her Birthday to help us out) headed out bright and early to secure some space on our one way street for the Juggernaut, then go and pick it up. But, lo and behold, even though we were out of the house during the 0700 hour, all but the last 2 spots on the street were taken, and the end of the street was barricaded off. To what did we owe this unpleasant surprise? Why, The 50th Annual Allentown Art Festival, of course! Yes, to keep things interesting, I would have to navigate the the truck past 1000s of merry Buffalonians flocking to downtown for this incredibly popular event. Yay.

No big deal though; I had decided on the diminutive 24' truck from Budget. Now, for those who haven't recently moved, Here is are some helpful pics illustrating how big this damned truck is:


















Or another way...

So after a few delays with getting the truck and parking it, we began packing.

And we continued packing...

















And dear friends who swuing over to say goodbye were recruited into the packing...

















(We would've needed 2 trucks if it
wasn't for Chris...)

















(Thanks for the arms with the piano, Dennis!)

Then neighbors were recruited into the packing...

Finally TOTAL STRANGERS were recruited into the packing. ("Yeah, you can check out the apartment. And hey, why don't you grab a couple boxes on your way down...")

And eventually as evening approached, several hours behind schedule, we got every last thing loaded into the truck.

Everything that is, except for our incredibly freaked-out cat..














Oh yes, and she remained freaked out the entire trip to Pittsburgh; Huddled in Tahera's lap, unloading in every way possible. Gross.

And what a trip it was: Steamrolling down the highway with the turbodiesel engine of the Juggernaut screaming in all it's fury; doors rattling, mirrors buzzing, cat yowling, pedal to the floor for a top speed of 70mph downhill with a tailwind... it's a miracle it only took us until 12:45 to pull into Forest Hills.

And wake up all the neighbors....

Forest Hills is a quaint little suburb just outside of Pittsburgh. Built on a network of aging mineshafts right beside a decomissioned Westinghouse "atom crusher," it's residents seem to have developed a "seen-it-all" kind of attitude which comes in handy when being ripped from slumber by a mammoth diesel and a piercing beep of a delivery truck in reverse at 1:00 in the morning.

In the face of such a commotion, my dear neighbors did what anyone else (inlcuding myself) would do in the wee hours... they went out to their porches and watched the whole fiasco unfold. After all, if you were woken up by a band of idiots at one in the morning, wouldn't you go outside to watch them suffer?

And suffer we did. it took nearly a half hour to finally coax the behemoth down the absurdly narrow back alley and get it tucked away for unloading.

All said and done, we unloaded over 50% of the truck during those wee hours, and then finished the job after a few well deserved hours of sleep.

So, without further ado, here are some better pics of the house. Our House. Still gives me chills...

First off, the damage. My crack team of movers did a phenomenal job of packing and positioning to ensure nothing would be destroyed on the trek. However something, somewhere, always has to give. Interestingly, it wasn't the drawer filled with absurdly delicate christmas tree ornaments that had absolutely no cushioning (I hate moving)...

Rather, it was a corner of the house.






















I've given this a lot of thought since it happened, and I've concluded that it must be karma. Though I don't have any pictures of this event happening, It bears an uncanny resemblance to a blog post I did in November 2005. Indeed, this is cosmic payback for "The Madison Incident"

The Madison Incident you will recall, included the following pictures which actually tell the story of what happened here pretty well:




































It's true what they say, payback is indeed a bi***. Somewhere, I'm sure Sarah Madison is filled with delight at our belated comeuppance. Yeah yeah, I know... I didn't measure either...

Anyway, for those of you still reading, here's the much awaited pictorial tour of the house:





















Our Front Door

















The Living Room

















The Family Room





















Kitchen























Stairs from Living Room to 2nd Floor






















Master Bedroom with separate Bath and Walk-in Closet























Walk in Closet from Master Bedroom






















Hallway Bath





















"Study" (a.k.a. Project Room, a.k.a. guy room (yeah right...) )






















Hot Pink Room (a.k.a. Guest room)

















Front Porch


















Back of the house (and My Lawn)

















Detached 2-car garage
















Big-Honkin Basement complete with work bench, storage/work surfaces and washer/dryer.

Well folks, as you can see from the pics above, there's still plenty of work to be done, as well as an ever-growing list of projects to take care of. I'll be starting my residency training next week, but will try to keep you all updated regularly with all the adventures we're having in our new home.

But even better than reading about it in a blog is to come and see it firsthand! We can't wait to have each and every one of you over to visit so we can show you around in person!

La Tigre

What can I say, I'm honored to be the subject of post over at LM&F. It was pretty cool to see such an interest taken in what I've accomplished, and it's sparked in me a desire to talk about what an awesome sister I have.

So first, the title. I believe it was Aaron Lawrick, a member of "The Merry Pranksters", as Sadaf liked to call us, who came up with the perfect analogy for the impactfulness of my siblings. He described Osman as "a grizzly bear at the zoo." Sure, he's ferocious and cunning, but if you don't poke him with a stick or stand too close to the cage, he'll be more than content to leave you alone. Sadaf however, was more like "a tiger on the prowl." She might seem relaxed; uninterested in ripping you to shreds, but rest assured: the keen eye was there. Fates were being decided whenever she entered the room. You couldn't know if she was just going to walk through, or destroy you. Such was (and is) the presence of my big sister. Maybe it was because she's so much older than me. Who knows? Whatever the reason, to this day whenever I envision her she's like 8 feet tall. I'm always surprised when I see her in person and she's shoulder height to me.

Yet as she said, and for whatever reason, be it the age gap, differing interests, the reclusivity of her teenage years, or those alleged smoke rings, there had been some distance between me and my 8yrs. senior sister. However, as far apart as we were in age, I do remember more than the "Who are you??" on the day she left for college. In fact, I'm reminded of a few key moments in my development as a person to which I owe her credit. Three particular events come to mind:

1.
Sadaf: How long has it been since I've given you a good beating?

Riz: (sarcastically) Obviously too long.

{a good beating ensues}

Lesson: Don't be a wise-ass.

2. On Arguments:
Sadaf: Remember Riz, the key to navigating any argument with your girlfriend is to say "you're right, I'm wrong, and I don't know what I was thinking." Trust me, it's not worth it to win the argument. You lose far worse if you win.

And most importantly...

3. The Bus Incident:

I can remember as an elementary school kid, probably no further along than first or second grade, being picked on by a 6th grade bully on the school bus. I can still recall his name (Cy), and remember running up the driveway at the end of the day in tears from his hurtful antics. At any rate, the bullying stopped abruptly one fine day, and it was only years later that I discovered the reason.
Apparently my sister and brother got wind of this palooka's afternoon pastime and, feeling protective of their younger brother (or being pissed at someone trying to muscle in on their turf), decided to and do something about it.
The next day, my sister and brother waited for Cy to board the afternoon bus. They then got on in turns and persuaded him that bullying their little brother wouldn't be in his best interests, unless he had a strong desire to sing soprano for the rest of his life.
Needless to say, that last event is why I feel so strongly about my big sis. It taught me the lesson that no matter how sarcastic or glib we can be with one another, When one of us is in need, everything else takes a backseat. That's what family's all about.

Sadaf, you're the best big sister anyone could hope for (in fact, you're my favorite big sister). I could list a dozen more ways you've helped me get to where I am. Thanks for always being such a huge influence in my life, and if you ever need me to get on a bus and kick some 6th grader's ass for you; you got it.

See You There

The Ejaz's

We hide it well from the outside world; the insanity. I don't think it's any coincidence that I married a future psychiatrist (T minus 2 months, 3 days). We are weird.
When you're a family of 7 living in a small town you're bound to get a reputation. Luckily, the Ejaz children had it pretty good in the 'heads. If you happened to meet or know"An Ejaz" as we were referred to, you could assume that they were an A+ student, had never seen the inside of a detention room, participated in an assortment of extra-curricular activities and community service, and could talk about the benefits of hawthorn berries and B-12 in a diet. All-around good kids. This is the face we showed to the world. What happened behind the doors of our Oriole Dr. home was not what you would expect. We were nuts.
It started off innocent enough. We'd play together doing things I assume most other kids did. We'd play house and school. We'd build tents and forts out of blankets and the dining room chairs. We'd slide down the carpeted stairs in a sleeping bag (still super-fun). Kid stuff.
I'm not sure when things changed, but they did. We developed our own voice. It sounds kinda like a cross between a toddler and Elmo. After the voice came the language with words like "poosta" (pasta) and "ocher" (o.k.) Oh, there's more. We developed characters. In our world have "Cenupy" (the centipede), "Bobay" (the baby), "No-Name" (the one w/o a name), "James" (the grandma), "G-Per" (the grandpa), "Nonay" (the Nanny), and "Bobay Nal " (baby Neal). I won't go into who's who ,how these characters developed and their relationship to one another because, well, even I'm in amazement as to how crazy it really is.
Anyway, three of the kids are now in their twenties and the other two are teenagers. There is no end in sight. The following pictures really don't need any explanations. They're just a peek into what it really means to be "An Ejaz".

Sunny California

There’s nothing more I love than a vacation. I will forgo coffee, chocolate, and sparklies---uh, within reason of course, for sand and sun. Riz knows this which is why he scored major points when he surprised me with a trip to Southern California. More on that later.

I grew up in a house where vacations were tres important. I’m not sure it was ever a vacation for my parents with their 5 kids in tow, but they made it a point to take us somewhere every summer.

Some years we went all out, flying to Cancun, Puerto Rico, and the like. Some years we all piled in the mini-van and headed to Virginia or Myrtle Beach. It seems like we’d plan and prep all spring for these vacations. I vividly recall the week before the vacation being almost as wonderful as actually being there. This was the week when we went shopping with mom for all the essentials. We’d get new beach towels, flip-flops, and sunglasses. The planning got my mom in a great mood and she’d even spring for snacks like Pringles and General Mills variety pack cereal boxes. (If you know anything about my mom, you know how huge a deal this was for us kids.)

Everything was so exciting; the careful packing of the new bathing suit in my own pink and purple suitcase, my dad letting me be in charge of the family’s airline tickets, day-dreaming of becoming a flight attendant and thinking it the most glamorous job a girl could have….

When we got married, Riz joined in. After accepting most of our Brady Bunch eccentricities, this tradition I feel was pretty palatable. Our first vacation after our honeymoon was to a trip Acapulco. The following year we went to Barbados. The third year Riz informed me that his final med-school year wouldn’t allow for any vacation time...........

This was not ok. Med school, schmed school. I began to (not so subtly) hint at a vacation at least once a week. “Wow…it sure is cold…you know what would be great?”

Then one Sunday in January, Riz surprised me with a vacation to San Diego. My head starting spinning with millions of thoughts all of which he had already taken care of. Work had known for weeks. We’d flying back to Buffalo (we were in NYC), pack, and then fly out to San Diego. There was a list of beaches to see, places to eat, and where to find the best coffee. Impressive.

We had a terrific time.

Turned out I didn’t have to forgo coffee or chocolate.
In San Diego’s Gas Lamp District we visited the Ghirardelli Sundae Shop.

Between the two of us we couldn't finish this.

I also had my fill of sparklies

















A morning walk on Mission Beach

Hotel Coronado where Some Like it Hot was filmed (ah...the AP English "summer films" list)

Here's a house on Laguna Beach Riz and I were considering purchasing. Then we decided to pass. It was really a little small and the front yard was just full of sand.

Enjoying the view in Laguna

We took a day trip to L.A.

Riz had to drive three times around this busy Beverly Hills block for me to get this shot. It was totally worth the effort to present Sameena with a pic of her Blow Out idol's salon.

Sunset in La Jolla.


Like all good things, our time in the city where it seems it never rains was too short. Cheers to you, Pika, for pulling it off. This vacation is already one of my favorite memories and ranks right up there with Sour Cream Pringles.

Treat Yourself

With three cold/snow days in only the past two weeks, I've been feeling a little (ok, more than a little) drab. It seems my days have been just a series of efforts to avoid the weather. I'll be the first to admit that I'm vain but when it's this cold, even I stop caring. I've been all about my clunky, waterproof boots and "sleeping bag" coat. And in my determination to stay in my warm bed as long as possible each morning, beauty has taken a back-seat in a major way.

Last weekend I treated myself to an at-home facial. Besides leaving my Buffalo-beaten skin hydrated and super-smooth, I had to purchase very little. Most of the stuff you need you probably already have at home. It's pretty fabulous. Now only if I can find someone to do it for me next time...

CLEANSE. A warmed mixture of 1 to 2 tablespoons whole milk and several drops of olive oil is great for cleaning and soothing most types of dry skin: Milk gently removes dirt and makeup, and olive oil is an exceptional moisturizer. Wash your hands to avoid transferring bacteria or dirt, then warm the cleanser by working it between your palms. Gently massage it into your skin, distributing evenly using sweeping, circular movements. (This will also stimulate circulation.) Remove with warm water, splashing upward until you've flushed out the pores.
EXFOLIATE. Dead cells, which clog pores and flake, can make skin look dull and patchy. To concoct your own exfoliant: Mix 1/2 cup dry oatmeal, 3 tablespoons almond oil, 1 tablespoon finely ground sea salt (or cornmeal for more sensitive skin) and 1/4 teaspoon fresh mint with enough warm water to form a paste. Dampen your skin, then use gentle circular movements to apply the paste, avoiding the eye area. Rinse. Repeat only once or twice a month, and don't exfoliate if your skin is irritated or broken out.
TONE. An often overlooked but necessary step, toning removes cleanser residue and refreshes the skin. It also creates a base coat for your moisturizer, which is easier to work into damp skin. For a stimulating toner, mix one part witch hazel with two parts rose or orange-blossom water. Witch hazel's antiseptic properties combat blemishes without causing the skin to become dry or flaky; rose water stimulates circulation; and orange-blossom water helps balance the skin's pH. Using 100 percent cotton pads, sweep the solution across your face and neck until the cotton shows no residue. Remember to include the jawline, where breakouts are common.

STEAM. Steaming, which helps open pores, primes the skin for deep cleaning. In a large pot, boil 1 quart of distilled water. Next, infuse the water by wrapping fragrant herbs of your choice (chamomile, eucalyptus, lavender) in gauze or cheesecloth, lowering the heat, and placing the cloth in the pot for five minutes. Remove the pot from the heat and set it on a protected surface. Apply a light layer of almond or sesame oil to the face (this acts as a buffer, protecting your skin from the heat), then bend over the pot, tenting a clean towel over your head to catch the steam. (Be careful not to get too close.) Stay there five minutes, then pat dry.

MASK. Masks serve multiple purposes in a comprehensive facial: They deep-clean, stimulate circulation, remove dead skin and hydrate. Oily or blemished skin responds well to an application of a paste made of Fuller's Earth (clay) and mineral water. Avoid the eye area while applying and let the mask set until nearly dry. Then rinse thoroughly with warm water. To hydrate drier skin, use a mix of 1 egg yolk, 1 tablespoon honey and a few drops of safflower oil. Or, to get that firm Academy Awards texture (sans Botox), apply 2 egg whites to tighten pores, followed by an application of plain yogurt to brighten the complexion.

MASSAGE. To soothe the skin in the last phase of the facial, a moisturizer should be massaged into the skin. Put a generous amount on your hands and work them together to warm up the cream. Concentrate on areas where muscles are overworked: cheeks, mouth, forehead and around the eyes. Once the lotion is completely absorbed and it becomes more difficult for the fingertips to slip across the skin, blot off any excess with a tissue, and you're done.
Diana L. Carswell, washingtonpost.com