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About Ramblings of a Hopeless Khowaga

Welcome to my Web site. My name is Chris, and I’ll be your host. I live in Austin, Texas, with my partner, Ray, and our child dog, Mocha. You can read more about me, learn 100 random things about me, and if you’re wondering what the heck a khowaga is, click here. Feel free to browse, read, and leave comments!

Tag: ‘caffeine’



Ramadan Kareem

Thursday, August 27th, 2009

So, I’m sitting at my desk eating lunch.  My office door is closed, and there’s a knock.  I thought I heard the voice of the other Chris in the office, so I opened it, figuring he was either coming to share gossip or ask me for something.

I open the door in mid-chew.

Instead of Chris, I found Yetkin, the guy who organized the trip to Turkey over the summer.

I cover my mouth, and mumble through food, “Hi!  How are you?”

And then I remember that it’s Ramadan.  Yetkin can’t eat or drink during the day.  And here I am stuffing my face right in front of him.

“Um,” say I, trying to chew really fast, and pulling the door closed behind me so that the food smell won’t waft out.  “Sorry … ”

It’s not the first time this week that Ramadan has reared up.  On Monday I stood in front of someone with a mug of coffee for a full ten minutes before it dawned on me.  For caffeine addicts, Ramadan’s just gotta suck.

Then there’s the friend from grad school who was stocking up on Count Chocula.  “Suhuur’s [the last chance for food before sunrise] just not suhuur without Count Chocula,” he posted on Facebook the other day.  [I should add that he's 35.]
“Yes,” I commented.  “I believe that the Prophet himself said that somewhere.”

After all, what are religious convictions for if you can’t poke fun at them?

Which is what makes this kinda funny:

YouTube Preview Image

Ramadan Kareem, y’all!

Bored now.

Friday, March 27th, 2009

No caffeine.

No alcohol.

No dairy.

No spicy food.

And occasionally I have bouts of pain that make me swear like a cheerleader with Tourette’s.

And there’s still nothing on TV during the day.

*sigh*

Coffee and Donuts

Thursday, December 18th, 2008

Call me a spoilsport, but as my office has grown larger, I’ve become somewhat more resistant to the idea of office holiday gifts. (Yes, in my office the appropriate term actually IS “Happy Holidays” as we’ve got all three of the Abrahamic faiths represented among the staff, and one Buddhist.) It’s not that I mind the idea of giving a token something to everyone, but there comes a point at which a $2 gift, multiplied over several staff members, becomes a considerable chunk of change.

So, this morning, my very weak replacement was to pick up a box of “munchkins” from the new Dunkin Donuts on the way to Bev’s house (does anyone remember when these were called “donut holes”? When did they change the name?). Bev, Lisa and I sat in the reading room and had donuts and coffee this morning, and that was kind of my holiday offering.

The problem, as I discovered fairly quickly, is that donuts are pure sugar, and, combined with the caffeine, about an hour later I suddenly realized that I couldn’t type because I was so jumpy that I kept hitting the wrong keys. It was still better than the subsequent caffeine/sugar crash that followed shortly thereafter, at which point I wondered if anyone would notice if I took a nap and … jeez, were my pants this tight when I left the house this morning?

That’s the other problem with Christmas, Hanukkah, and the entire month of Ramadan. Every one of them is associated with sickly sweet desserts that are in no way good for you. (Yep, you read that right: what do you think Muslims do all night after they fast all day? The number of people I know who put on weight during Ramadan might surprise you.)

Anyway.

While I’m on the food tip, I have to share the following excerpt from a blog that I won’t name that covers local stuff here in Austin. They visited the Ethiopian restaurant in town, and I found myself reading their review with the same sort of horror that Shin seems to feel whenever he grades freshman composition assignments. To whit:

If you’ve never had it, Ethiopian food is a little like Indian food, but different enough to make it a nice alternative.

For the record, if you’ve never had it, let me explain: Ethiopian food is a little like Indian food in that neither is American food, and both will blow the top of your head off if you don’t know what you’re doing. Past that, the similarities pretty much come to a screeching halt. I do enjoy me some Ethiopian food (and, lamentably, do not terribly care for the restaurant covered in the review). In fact, I garnered a bit of attention when I mentioned it in this very blog and it got picked up in a DC blog and … well, they called me a tourist, but I’ll get over it.

Anyway. All this talk of food is making me ponder lunch. The only things open in the Union are Wendy’s and Taco Bell, and I can’t take the thought of either. On the other hand, I may have had enough calories for one day!

Venti Skim No-Whip Confession

Sunday, December 10th, 2006

Hello, my name is Chris, and I am a caffeine addict. It all started many years ago when I was young and … oh, scratch it.

300px-A small cup of coffee

We’ve been out of milk for the past few days (and in a house with two world-champion procrastinators, the concept of running out and purchasing more is just beyond our grasp), thus depriving me of my morning java jolt. I enjoy coffee, but it does have to have sugar and – unless I’m drinking the ultra thick brew known in various places as Turkish, Arabic, Greek, or Cypriot coffee – some sort of dairy product (although, as I pointed out earlier, yogurt and sour cream really don’t work). Non-dairy creamer is somewhere down there next to sandpaper as toilet paper: it works in a pinch, but we’re talking the absolute baseline of acceptability here.

The reason this all came up is that I spent most of yesterday with a headache and it wasn’t until the late hours that it finally dawned on me that it was because I had gone most of the day without caffeine.

In the mornings, it’s coffee. I usually have a soda (diet, natch, as I must watch my figure) at lunch and maybe one in early afternoon, but I knock it off around 3:00 because then I’ll have trouble sleeping (this last bit having started in my late 20s. Until then I could have a French roast with dessert and fall asleep moments later).

I tried giving up caffeine once. I blame Kamran for this – he’s the one who convinced me that it would be a good idea. It was painful – literally. You don’t quite realize the effect that caffeine has on your body until you’ve experienced a week’s worth of headaches so intense that all you can do is focus on the excruciating pain. I got over it, and then discovered how hard it is to be caffeine free in this world. Seriously, go into a restaurant and try to find a caffeine free option on the menu. I dare you. (Hint: it’s called “water.”)

About a month after this little experiment started, I went to Saudi Arabia – also known as the land where you will drink coffee or tea at every meeting, and in the Middle East they drink both very strong and very sweet. And the concept of caffeine free is completely alien. Hence, about thirty six hours after landing in the Eastern Province, I was back off the wagon, and I have lived that way ever since.

So, my name is Chris, and I’m a caffeine addict. And for the moment, I’m content to live with the tall French roast monkey on my back. As long as he remembers to set the timer on the coffee maker before I go to bed.

Tuesday Morning Ughs

Tuesday, September 5th, 2006

As is usual the morning after a long weekend, I have hit the ground running on my knees.  I didn’t get much sleep last night (note to self: check the caffeine content BEFORE you drink it), and my temper might be just a little short.

It is, however, raining.

I’ve had to restart my new work computer too many times this morning for its own good, and have discovered that the new graphic designer – who starts this morning and who I really need to get to work on a project for me – has no office or computer yet because our office manager who insists on placing work orders to have picture frames hung apparently didn’t put in a work order to have the workstation set up (she also doesn’t read this blog, in case you’re wondering).

Just for fun, the new teaching assistants — who treat the area outside of my office like their own private party pen — and insist on using the computer out there, the one that I’ve told them 300 times each isn’t hooked up to a printer, have only asked about, oh, three hundred times this morning where the printouts they keep making are.

Me: “That machine isn’t hooked up to a printer.”

Them: “But I printed.”

Me: “But there’s no printer.”

Them: “But I printed.”

You see where this is going.

I digress.  And I shall breathe deeply now and let it all out.
So, no doubt you have heard by now that Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter, was killed by a sting-ray over the weekend off Queensland’s Great Barrier Reef.  Didn’t see that one coming.  It kind of reminds me of the Bloom County cartoon where C. Everett Koop is killed by a falling block of tofu and brussels sprouts – they took him out before he had the chance to declare them unhealthy, too.

Stuff that makes you go hmmm…

 

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