Shabbir's Diary

Go Sam, it's your birthday...

My sister Sam (heh) had a birthday recently and asked me to throw her a party. I agreed because I love my sister, though she would say it's because I'm working off karma for being a mean older brother so many years ago.

If you know Sam, you know she likes sushi, and so a sushi party it was.

I made her a shrimp cake, with the traditional octopus tentacle on top. She refused to eat it, despite my insistence that eating the tentacle on your birthday is a tradition that's at least, like, months old.

I also made something of my own invention, scallops with jalapenos and lemon wrapped in kelp. Sort of a Japanese ceviche with a mean kick.

Finally, there were the handrolls. We had been preparing all day and about an hour before everyone arrived I shot a few demonstrative photos of how to make a handroll that doesn't look like it came from Chipotle. No tripod, I was just freehanding it with rice all over my hands, which perhaps explains the camera shake. (Steps 1, 2, 3, 4, 5,6)

Dessert was ice cream cake (one of Sam's favorites) and pastries from Cakelove, where she ought to have a credit card.

That's the last meal to be prepared at my house for a while. I'm going to be without a kitchen while a small quantity of constructive destruction is done on the house.

Still without DSL at home, by the way. Not that you're obsessively checking my website, but my stalkers probably feel a little left out. At this point they've had to resort to sneaking up to the house and looking in the windows to see what's up in my life.

THINGS MY STALKERS SAW LAST WEEK

• A rowdy poker game that suddenly became silent when two of the 13 people left
  
• Three people chopping and washing food for 4 hours
  
• Obsessive longing for a larger poker table
  
• My office getting cleaned because I have nothing else to do
  
• Me arriving home cackling to myself from a big poker win
  
• Tax paperwork being sorted because I have nothing else to do
  
• Passive aggressive Tivo-watching ("Fine, I'll watch this stupid show it recorded for me")
  
• Leftover sushi being eaten
  
• Leftover sushi being eaten
  
• Leftover....you get the idea.
  

Palestine (this is really great!)

Pull!

Note that I'll be updating the site a little less often. I've lost home phone/DSL service and it's thrown my working rhythm off, as well as my online poker habit.

As you've heard, Sarah's down to one arm. Last time I saw her was when I had to the airport last Sunday to come back to work in DC. That, by the way, is one of the hardest things I've ever done. I twice stopped on the way to the airport and had to talk myself out of turning back.

Our dogs, Zisa (pictured) and Hagrid are keeping her company. Zisa's more a high maintenance dog than Hagrid, but more intuitive. Sarah's taught her a new command, "pull". Having only one arm, it's difficult for Sarah to remove clothing with sleeves. So she holds a sleeve or a pant leg out, and commands Zisa with "PULL". Off comes the sleeve/pant-leg, sock, whatever.

Brilliant.

"WIGGLE YOUR FINGERS FOR ME!"

NOW:

"WIGGLE YOUR FINGERS FOR ME!"

"Wiggle your fingers, Sarah"

"WIGGLE YOUR FINGERS FOR ME! MAKE AN OK SIGN! CAN YOU MAKE A CLAW?"

The Emergency Room doctor was shouting at Sarah on the other side of a thin curtain. I was on the other side of the curtain because family members aren't allowed to watch sensitive medical procedures. Apparently I looked cool-headed enough that he didn't think I'd rush in at the first sign of unease or discomfort on her part.

He was shouting because she was heavily anesthetized, enough so that they had her on a breathing mask and monitored her pulse with the machine that goes 'ping' at regular intervals. Moments ago I had watched them install it and memorized the noise in case it became erratic during the procedure.

In order to make sure he hadn't just damaged the nerves that allow her to move her fingers and use her left hand, he wanted her to demonstrate in some way. She wasn't responding, possibly because she was still out of it. Hence, the screaming.

It sounded like it had gone well enough. I was just 5 feet from Sarah, and though I couldn't see her, I was monitoring their tone of voice looking for some sort of clue of concern. In this effort, my fascination with poker tells was of good use. Accelerated speech, high tone of voice, or the doctor starting to be less polite and give orders to the nurse and orderly would have been the warning signs I was hoping not to hear.

Once under, they had assured us she wouldn't feel anything, nor would she remember any of it. Though she didn't remember it, I heard her scream five times while she was out of it as they replaced her elbow pieces in the socket. I suspect that was why they wanted me out of the room.

Beforehand, as they fitted her for the mask, I knew this was a minor procedure, but wary of the symbolism of the event, the last thing I said to her was, "I'll be here when you wake up", I squeezed her ankles and blew her a kiss.

FIVE MINUTES AGO:

Doctor: "You understand that there is a small chance that this procedure could cause nerve damage? I'll need you to sign this consent form. If you choose not to sign it, we can make arrangements to have to transported elsewhere for treatment."

Sarah: "I'm in so much pain that I can't make a decision, sweetie, you decide what to do."

Me: "Doctor, have you replaced a dislocated elbow before?"

Doctor: "Yes, lots."

THIRTY MINUTES AGO:

"AUUUUUUUUUGH!"

They sent me out of the room while they x-rayed Sarah. They didn't close the door, so I was able to watch them work, even though I couldn't help. The contortions they put her into to get a good x-ray looked painful.

TWO HOURS AGO:

I'm at the bottom of Mt. Sunapee, leaning on my new snowboard, waiting for Sarah. A woman skis up and asks if I'm Shabbir.

Me: "Um, yeah, were you with my wife? Another snowboarder told me she fell and injured her arm."

Woman: "Yeah, she messed it up pretty bad. I spent a nice hour with her and they're bringing her down now."

Fast Company (not the magazine)

Mike Luckovich's latest cartoon

http://www.ajc.com/opinion/content/opinion/luckovich/2004/021004.html#

You know, they call this hand "bitches" for a reason...

Click on the photo to see the entire view

411: Home again, home again

I played in my first poker tournament tonight. It was a no limit hold'em game that cost, after re-buys and add-on buys, about $30. In case you watch a little bit of poker on tv, the difference between no-limit and limit poker is this. In limit poker, you can only lose (or win) money at a fixed rate. In a $3/$6 game, you can't raise more than $6 at a time in later rounds of betting, even if you've got the best hand ever.

In no limit you can put all your chips in and anyone who wants to play with you has to match that amount. Your fortunes can turn quickly up or down.

Out of 24 players who started, I made it to the final table, and survived until I was one of the last 5. Given that this is my first tournament, I thought that was a huge accomplishment. Time was running out for me though, and because I had a short stack of chips, I would soon be pecked to death by the ante and the mandatory blind bets.

I was dealt a pair of queens and everyone except the player to my right folded. Having the only other player in the game be to my right, and be a purportedly inexperienced poker player, I decided it was time I had all her chips.

Pocket queens is a really good starting hand in game with 5 players, so I set myself all in. While she was pondering the decision, I needled her. "How much money you got there, anyway?" A player across the table looked at me with a smirk and said, "You're such a jackass" and then stated that he saw a pro try to rattle their opponent with this exact trick on the World Poker Tour on the Travel channel.

She shrugged her shoulders with "what the hell" and pushed all her chips in. We turned over our cards and she showed a king and a 10. At this point I was favored to win almost 2 to 1. However as we dealt out the remaining 5 common cards for the hand, she got a king to give her a higher pair, and I failed to get another queen.

I stayed for a few more minutes, and when she lost a big hand and said, "There goes my money" to the winner as he raked her chips in, I corrected her. No, that's MY money.

And I'm outta here....

Driving without checking the weather report

Did you miss me? I've been busy this week. Click on the photo to see the terrifyingly large picture of my drive through the mountains.

411: Somewhere in the Berkshires, halfway to Albany, NY.

Listening to: Whatever is playing on my iPod is being drowned out by the sound of my tires slushing through snow.

7am: I'm headed to see a new vendor today in Albany, NY. Knowing my luck with airports, and knowing I enjoy driving alone, I say to hell with it, and decide to drive the 3 1/2 hour trip.

7:05am: It's pouring rain, but the windshield wipers are working great, and I don't have to make a lot of turns. I basically just drive on one highway to get there.

8am: Hm, it's snowing like a motherfucker. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea. But I'm already an hour out, if I turn back now it'll all be for nothing.

8:15am: I am no longer driving or steering. The car is basically 'skiing'. I turn the wheels back and forth, constantly oscillating the car's nose from 11 o'clock to 1 o'clock position.

8:45am: There are almost no other cars on the road. Occasionally when I'm passing, or when I'm being passed, I have to keep careful hold on the car. Should it hit a patch of unplowed snow (hell it's all unplowed) I'll find myself sliding back and forth into the other cars lane.

I discover than when I change lanes there's a patch of thick unplowed snow along the dotted white line that's higher than the snow in my lane. As I change lanes, the car skids heavily on the extra tall slushy snow.

9am: I've passed the halfway point and am somewhere in the Berkshires. No point going back now. I pass a cliff face where water pouring down has frozen in place, creating a beautiful frozen scene with a powerful deep blue, like the one I saw in the Hope diamond. I debate stopping and taking a photo, and think better of it. I'm certain to be struck and killed by a snowplow.

9:15am: I finally see my first snowplow. It's a fearsome beast. It's got two plows on the front and takes up almost both lanes. A semi and I have to drive on the shoulder to pass. I quickly grab the photo you see above.

10am: I hit NY. I've made it. Now to avoid getting stuck in the last 10 minutes...

Sleeping with the Devil: How Washington Sold Our Soul for Saudi Crude

Big Deal (yes! Another poker book!)