It is 5:45 a.m. and I am still awake. I just finished re-reading Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya sisterhood and it made me a little sad. Now I can’t sleep because of all the thinking. Whoever intvented thinking should be arrested. And I would not defend him/her. It should be against the law to think about your family and who you are and where you came from.

Here is what I did today, actually yesterday. I went to see the parents in Northern VA. We had lunch, rice and afghan chicken and salad with cilantro chutney and homemade yogurt. My mom tried to get me to eat chicken. She kept saying “It’s okay if you don’t eat meat. But eat chicken, chicken is good.” My dad was running with Biscuit, the crazed demon dog and she had rolled in dead stuff so when he came in he got in the shower with her. Then he had me go on the computer to look at an e-mail my best friend’s father had sent to him. I opened it and apparently it was the wrong one because the one I opened said all sorts of hateful things about my dad like how he was anti-social and tactless and that a lot of people in the professional organization he is a member of think the same thing about him. I scrolled down more and saw the e-mail my father had written to him and it was just as pathetically childish and I told dad I didn’t ever want to hear or read or have any part of their fucked up relationship. Then we piled into the SUV and drove to Tiffany where my dad purchased a diamond engagement ring for my mother that has a million little diamonds all around it and a new wedding band that is completely covered in diamonds. She put it on and he was like that’s it you are buying it and put it on his credit card. She’s had a rough year and that was his way of saying thank you. It was really sweet and romantic and he put it on her finger in the car and said “will you have me?” And it was nice because well, the first time around she didn’t get a chance to say yes or no because someone else said yes for her. It really wasn’t up to her. And, I guess this time around she couldn’t really say no either. What with them already being married and all. . . .

Then we drove to Georgetown where my father, all five foot three of him, downed three pints of beer in two minutes. Husband could not keep up. God, does my dad love beer. In fact, he says that he reason why he came to America is because he’d heard that they have all kinds of beer in America. In germany they have german beer, but in America you could even get MEXICAN beer. That was a big turn on for him so he left to come here. That was his american dream. Then we went to dinner at a really nice seafood restaurant where my mother spilled a glass of red wine on me and I had bread pudding for desert. We went back to my parents’ condo and dad (we call him kaka which means uncle in pashto. Specifically, it means uncle on father’s side. It’s a long story) was feeding sappho some rice out of a bowl when crazed demon dog biscuit got fierce about it and attacked her. Sappho held her own and got some good licks in. Then dad and husband drank two shots of Courvoiseier (isn’t that for sipping? “No, you don’t know anything about courvoisier. This is the shit they send over to america.” dad knows his booze, eh) and then we left. I watched Not another teenage movie and drank coke and it was one a.m. and I got ready for bed but then I started reading and so then I wrote another 2,000 words in my “no plot, no problem” novel and now its almost 6:00 a.m. The book now has 11,000 crappy words.

So, welcome to my Saturday. This has been fun, hasn’t it?