Buying a Car couldn't be any easier

Dear Friends,

If any of you are looking to buy a car - cartelligent.com is the way to go. I was getting a bit overwhelmed with the whole process of looking for a car and a good deal. It was hard to make sure that I wasn't getting jipped! And then came in cartelligent.com!

I cannot tell you how stressless the process has been - they do all the negotiating for you, and the salespeople are some of the nicest people that I have dealt with!!

From their website:

CARTELLIGENT is a new car-buying service that guarantees you a better price than you can geton your own.We save you the time of looking, negotiating and getting the sales runaround, making the whole experience faster, easier and more pleasant.Thousands of satisfied customers buy from CARTELLIGENT every year. You can, too!

Check 'em out!

cheers
Huma

Music!

I couldn't be prouder to have gone to Mount Holyoke! It has produced an amazing band in Pakistan - ZebandHaniya.com. I remember Zeb as an underclass-woman at Mount Holyoke and her voice is to die for!

I highly urge for you to listen to her songs at zebandhaniya.com. Her cousin Haniya went to Smith, our brilliant sister college not too far away.

Although the songs are in Urdu, I am sure that you will be intoxicated by the music and the feelings that they emanate in their songs - the feeling of strength, beauty and sensuality. Check it out at http://www.zebandhaniya.com/

xo!

Bleeding

I do it every month. For a whole week. And there's no tiny toons bandaid I can put on it. And you know what's worse, all my life, I've been thinking that I have to pretend that it's ok, I'm ok.
Well it's not. And I'm not. I'm bleeding profusely and uninterruptedly! I can feel my own body tearing itself apart, literally, and then shedding itself rather grotesquely and graphically. Yeah yeah, I don't buy that the whole self-renewal theory applies here.

I have to admit it now, it's part of my self purging: I actually thought it was woozy (I know that's not a word, but the opinion really isn't ready for a real word, don't you think?) for us women to say oh but my period just started and I'm cramping terribly so no, I can't. I can't to whatever: hang out, have this conversation, run that errand… I would feel a certain disdain for that excuse, I would never accept it as a real excuse. I used to think well suck it up and deal with it, it's part of life, and this kind of attitude is what's kept us hitting the glass pad. I know, I know, I'm repenting.

But as I go through the journey of realizing that I have to accept and confront things and not remain in denial, it sunk in. 'You know what, I should not be forced to be as rigorous and productive during Aunt Flow's visits.' I have no explanation for this, but neither do I have a choice (one of the very, very few areas I can actually say that latter bit about). And, I believe that my gender's scientifically-proven greater capacity for physical endurance more than makes up for it, as does my intelligence quotient as a woman.

While I'm sometimes equally as un-thrilled about spiritually-based limitations on menstruating women, some that I hear about in other cultures, some that I adhere to, I sometimes think that maybe these seeming limitations were at some point constructed by women themselves to give us some time off. I mean don't use it as a license to be a raging hormonal monster, but at the same time who wants to cook three meals every single day? (Link to that thought, fyi: I've heard that in some cultures it used to be, or maybe still is, that menstruating women aren't allowed in the kitchen or to cook or something) (By the tangential way, part of all that feminist baggage has been confronted and I have just begun to admit that I do enjoy cooking - but only when I don't have to do it. Tangent # 2: Hmm, is that akin to enjoying writing when I don't have to write? By writing being an integral part of my professional choices, I hardly write for catharsis or leisure – I even associate my prized laptop with work and distance myself from it when actively trying to relax.)

So, I'm thinking of recommending to my wonderfully forward thinking corporate clients that they should have policies giving women flex times (at the very least) during their special time of the month – or wait, you know what no more pseudo-euphemisms, scratch that, during the days when their uterus self destructs and bleeds to death, only to regenerate and re-kill itself. Sounds like some torture technique out of hell, doesn't it? It's true. I'm grateful that I rarely feel horribly – in fact when it started to bleed to semi-death this afternoon somehow I instantly went into this holiday-mood, well not full-swing, but I was kind of happy. Don't ask me to explain everything – that's half the bane of my existence, or so many close and dear ones tell me,: that I over-think everything.

So what do you think?

We get maternity and paternity leave, don't we? We've accepted that it's a biological need we can't deny until science figures out how men can give birth. Not as an enforcement, but as a choice. If you want go full-swing and be discreet about your suffering, that's fine too. But if you'd rather work from home in your pajamas, at the very least, then wouldn't you like to have that option? So why not - at least for the first day of our uterine self-destruction?

Confessions of a feminist voter

Courtney Skerritt is a proud graduate of Mount Holyoke College(my amazing class of 2001.)

I got to vote for her today. And it felt amazing. I don't know about the procedure in other states, but after one votes in Massachusetts they get a sticker. For most of the day, the message "I voted" screamed in bright blue ink from just below my left shoulder. Simply wearing such sticker prompted conversation amongst my colleagues as well as my students (I work in a high school). Although the conversation was good, I wish it had been more direct. What I really wish I had been wearing was a sticker that read "I voted for her". Those who know me knew I would vote for Hillary - I'm as close to a stereotypical Hillary supporter as you can get. For starters, I'm a women's college graduate. Secondly, l proudly dedicate my political leanings to issues relating to women and families and for those causes, she is our candiate. But as I watch the 2008 Presidential Election unfold, I can't help but reflect on my decision making process and the truth of feminism guiding my way.

It was not until the Iowa caucuses that I began to really pay attention to the presidential campaign. Prior to early January, the primaries were on my mind, but certainly did not capture my attention like they did for those living in the early primary states of New Hampshire and Iowa. Politics did not dominate family conversation over the holidays, but names like Obama, Hillary and Mitt passed through our lips as we talked about what was going on in our lives. But as the days ticked by, I knew I had to declare my intentions. As both sets of my parents live in New Hampshire, their mailboxes and inboxes were inundated with messages from the various campaigns; I watched as my husband weighed his options amongst the democractic candidates, finally deciding on Obama. His decision certainly made me question my leanings (as he stated a compelling case), but deep down I knew it was just a matter of time before I declared my intentions to vote for her. I am proud of my decision making. I listened to the candidates and even questioned my choice when the Clinton campaign began to sling more mud than I am comfortable with at the opponents. But with each passing day, I knew that this was my chance. When I walked into that booth today, not only was I able to exercise a right fought for me just 100 years ago, but I was able to vote for a woman. Elizabeth Cady Stanton would be proud. But what would make her more proud is knowing that I had a choice. Not only did I have the opportunity to vote, but I voted using a ballot with a woman's name listed. Not only did I get to vote for a woman, but I got to choose. And that is what is at the core of feminism. As Susan Sarandon is quoted in this week's Time Magazine, "It's insulting to assume that because you're a woman or a person of color, you would automatically back any woman or person of color. It's a little more complicated". Yes Susan, it is complicated. But as the debates raged on and platforms were expressed, I knew this was a woman who deserved my vote.

When it became clear to me Hillary was my candiate, I did not make public display of my preference. I did not wear a Clinton button. I did not post my decision on modern day personal billboards like Facebook or on my Gmail status. I wanted to, really I did. I wanted to scream so that fellow Americans in all corners would hear another voice in support of Hillary Clinton. But what held me back was fear of being sterotyped. I knew that voting for Hillary was what was expected of me and by keeping my vote to myself, perhaps I was excercising my right to just be. So maybe feminism has only gotten us so far? As the presidential campaign took a more central role in our daily lives, my friends and I had many conversations about who we would vote for. Almost always our discussion lead to the theme of feminism and choice. We all knew that we did not have to vote for Hillary just because we are women. Luckily we had a damn good one to choose from, but we did not have to wait for two women to run against each other so the gender card would be cancelled out. The pundits may argue a gender divide exists in America, but amongst the women I know, decisions were made based on issues, not estrogen. A strong, smart woman is what we get in Hillary Clinton and strong, smart women are going to vote for her. But they are going to vote for Obama, McCain, and Huckabee. And really, that is what matters. What matters is that they take the time to make a well reasoned, well researched decision. An old political saying goes, WHEN WOMEN VOTE WOMEN WIN. But secretly I hope that it is this woman who wins it all.