People Change

Fear not, there is another post waiting to be published, but that I refuse to put up until my cousin sends me the pictures she's supposed to. Of course, you probably don't actually fear for anything regarding these blog posts. What is this, if not the ramblings of one of your friends that you're going through to pass the time? Why should you care?

I'm being morose. It's past midnight, ignore me. But don't ignore my words. (<--LOL.)

As our lives change, we move into a new group of friends, a new way of thinking, new system of living. We move forward. Who says it's a bad thing to move forward? It's worse if you're being held back.

Take, for instance, a newly married couple (this is just observation, you are by no means compelled to follow this way of life.) After the honeymoon's over and they settle down, they're still not going to settle down. They're going to go party with all their other couple-friends, their work friends. They're going to learn to manoeuvre themselves around each other, maybe tentatively at first and gradually more boldly. But then she gets pregnant. Things have to change. Less partying, more staying at home and working long nights to save up for when the baby's here. A new set of friends, these ones with kids, and if you're lucky, some of them will be friends moved forward from your couple-friends.

Doesn't mean you're leaving your old life behind. It just means you're moving forward - seems like the same thing, but it's not. You'll still keep in touch with those old friends, see them from time to time, just not as often. You've moved on.

It's not a bad thing.

I miss everyone, but I'm not going to hound them to spend time with me. They've moved on to new people - I've moved on to new people. But we still keep in touch, still check in to see how they're getting on. It's what all those years together were for. We'll always love each other, even if we don't show it as much anymore.

Felt like that needed to be aired out. Feel free to disagree and let me know what you think (I just realized there's a comment section on this. =P I'd love to hear from you people.)

Don't be a stranger.

Ja ne. 

Of Cricket Stands and Funny Things

So we went to a cricket match yesterday. Sri Lanka vs. Pakistan.


We had VIP parking or something, and dad had gotten irritated with Mum's direction-giving at one point and made her hang the ticket thing on the rear-view mirror. This was an excellent decision, because when we got stuck in the massive line leading up to the stadium, this official-looking fellow saw the VIP sign hanging from our mirror and ran up and moved aside a couple of cones. This allowed us to go through a lane that no one else was using, and he closed the lane off as soon as our car was through. I glanced back in time to see the pissed-off faces of the other drivers, while my dad kind of laughed maniacally.


Since we had sprung for the Premier seats (we HAD, apparently, gotten Platinum seats initially, but downgraded to Premier because most of our friends were there), we got a buggy ride from the car park to the stadium. We recognized an uncle as we were driving up in the buggy, so we waved. He was at a bit of a distance, but recognized us right back. He'd been arguing with some security officer at the time, but when he saw us, he stopped and screamed a greeting at us, much to the guard's consternation. Like, seriously, he SHRIEKED his hello. It was freaking hilarious. 


Even though there wasn't anyone my age (Aehshaan doesn't count, he's my brother), it was still quite fun. The adults were rowdy and SO, SO VERY VERY FUNNY. They screamed abuse at the ref when things didn't go the way they wanted, and cheered like madmen for when it did. For instance, one of my uncles started screaming at the pitch, "HE'S CHUCKING! UMPIRE, AFRIDI'S CHUCKING THE BALL! HE'S CHUCKING!" And continued in this vein for the rest of the match. Even the Pakistanis were laughing. It was classic. I had to shush him a bit when he yelled "GO HOME YOU PAKKAS!" though. Seemed a bit offensive. =P


Then they started passing around their "tea" in a silver flask. They got more pissed, more rowdy with each sip, but nothing over the top. Just genial yelling at the umpire, at most. So yeah, it was fun. I took a picture for the Worldwide Moment thing, which is when people all over the world, at 11:11 a.m on November 11th, 2011 all take a picture. Since the whole world wouldn't be taking it at the same time due to the time difference, the world follows New York time. The picture:

We headed back to Uncle Nigel's after that, for dinner. There's a funny story there, too.


Uncle Nigel: Do you want butter with that?
Yomal: No, it's alright.
U.N: No, but do you want butter?
Y: No, it's fine.
U.N: Okay, but do you want butter with that?
Y: No, seriously, it's okay.
U.N: No, but we have butter.


Doesn't sound as funny on screen, maybe, but it was at the time for the rest of us watching that exchange.


Ja ne.

We're Capable

Today I thought, human beings are capable of so much more.

I thought, for instance, of our capacity to love. We're a reservoir of passion, compassion. You think, at some points if not most, that you're at your limit for loving. Your lover. Your family. That special friend. You think, How could I possibly love another as much as this? How could I possibly be able to love another as much as this?

But you do. It's infinite, this power of ours to care for those that eventually walk into and embed, buries themselves so firmly in our lives, and does it so expertly that we never notice the push when they do. 

It's not all roses and butterflies, though, is it? As much as we love, we hate. We loathe. We despise. It poisons us. Thinking, lingering over bad thoughts about someone else will cause it to grow - you're feeding your hatred, aren't you, when you're thinking about it? I think that's where the old adage, Forgive and Forget, comes in. Don't think about it. Forgive. Forget. Let bygones be bygones, leave your past behind you.

And yet, we don't.

It's a bit of a difficult topic, this. Your past makes up who you are. So maybe, when they say forgive and forget, they don't actually mean you should forgive and forget. Forgive, yes. Hatred will poison you. Maybe they mean that bit wholeheartedly. 

Forget, on the other hand. It's a different kind of forget. You have to remember it in order to not make the same mistakes with someone else, maybe, or you should remember it for the sake of the memory for someone else. You have to remember it, I think. But I think they mean for you to forget enough that you don't want to hurt anyone, least of all yourself. Forget the hurt it may have caused, but remember how to deal with that hurt. Forget the bad times, but remember how to charge right through. Forget the person you turned into, and remember the person you want to be.

Just thinking, is all.

Ja.

Halloween and Cheesy Bits

Last year, Halloween, we didn't do much. In fact, I think we just forgot completely that it WAS Halloween.


THIS year, however, we're proper gearing up. I ran around yesterday last minute gathering up the last supplies for my costume (basically the entire thing) at the mall, and called up Joann to get me some stuff that wasn't available. Mum went and bought candy to hand out to the trick-or-treaters. Since I hate candy anyway (I'm just going for the novelty of trick-or-treating), I figure I'll come home, dump the candy on Mum, and she can hand out even more.


Or possibly I'll give it to a passing kid, I don't know. Unless someone gives me Bounty. I love Bounty. I know a lot of people hate coconut-filled chocolates and all, but hey, I'm Sri Lankan. My countrymen grew coconuts for a living.


I'll put pictures up later. Of the costume and stuff, I mean, not the coconuts.


I'm not sure what's happening later, actually. What I know for certain is that Gillian and Joann are coming over to trick-or-treat, and then spending the night for a horror movie marathon. They may bring their little cousin Gabby with them, and maybe another friend, Aamna. And my cousin may come along too, but she's still deciding. So yeah, not sure how it's all going to happen in the end.


Oh, and I did the silliest thing yesterday. I decided that we'd have nachos and homemade nacho cheese dip during the marathon, so I bought the ingredients yesterday at Geant, Ibn Battuta (henceforth, in this and future posts, known simply as Ibn). I now have all the ingredients for nacho cheese, including a large two-pack of processed cheese slices, and no nachos. 


Genius, I tell you.


Luckily, though, most anything can be dipped in cheese and taste good. Some people, like my cousin, would disagree with me just because they hate cheese. HOWEVER. Cheese on earth is like heavenly stuff in heaven (What do you get in heaven, other than eternal wishes? I know that there's some sort of magical river or something, plus pomegranates [this is upsetting, actually, because I don't even like pomegranates. I'm just going to wish for cheese, if I end up there]).


So I'll fry up some sausages, maybe toast bread, add some jalapenos or something. Grilled chicken works too. We're all going to die of a coronary, I know it.


Only to end up in heaven and wish for more cheese. Ah, irony.


Anyhoo.

Ciao.

Let Sleeping Dogs Lie.

I haven't exactly liked myself recently.

Have you ever had those moments where you know you're being completely irrational, but go ahead and blow up at people anyway, just because it's convenient and there's  no one else around? Ever thought you weren't irrational, just upset, and the whole world was conspiring against you because it's having fun with it? Have you thought that the day was going to be sunny, only to discover clouds when you push the curtains out of the way?

So basically, I've been acting a bit pregnant.


Take, for instance, a few weeks ago when I was convinced that my family hated me. Like, not just that they're mad at me or anything, but genuinely hated me. I was so upset that I rang up my best friend to tell him about it, only I ended up bawling and sobbing over the phone and he was (I'm fairly sure) trying not to laugh. And then I started acting completely depressed, which was a bit stupid, and then finally Adnan got mad and scolded me (no, really, proper chastised, I felt ashamed and everything) for being retarded. Not that I resent him or anything - I mean, looking back, I was a wee bit more emotional than warranted about an idiotic matter that doesn't seem so big in hindsight.


And then there was today, when I randomly started crying again at the kitchen table because I was just sad. I don't even know why, but I was sad. It started out a normal dinner. I was quiet, but without meaning to be. I was just listening to conversation. And then my dad gives me a funny look and asks if I'm alright, and I'm surprised, and I say that I am. A few minutes later, Mum pipes up and asks the same, and I reiterate, I'm fine. 


Only then, when they'd left the table, I started tearing up out of nowhere. I got up, and by the time I'd reached my room, all the emotion had subsided.


I wish I knew why I teared up though. I mean, there weren't any onions nearby. I just felt sad.


I think I'm hormonal. Maybe I'm just sad I've hit nineteen? 


Also, I've been wrestling with the fact that a friend recently decided to cut me out of his life. Without telling me. No warning. I randomly found out a couple of days ago, and now I can't decide if I should confront him or just let it be.


I'll probably let it be. This may surprise people, but I'm not really a confrontational sort of person. Seriously. Unless you're hurting someone else, I won't make an issue out of it. I really should man up a bit - why should I fight for others, not myself? Well, partly because I know it's not a big deal. I suppose I'll fight if it really meant something to me. 


Let sleeping dogs lie.


Peace.

Birthday Bash...uh. Not.

So it was my birthday a couple of days ago - the 17th of October. It's when I finally hit 19. It's kind of weird, but at the same time, kind of not.


The weird part is that, in my head, I've never really thought of myself after 18. I mean, yeah, I know I want to get married and have kids someday. I know I want to have a well-paying job that, in conjunction with my husband, pushes us to the higher echelons of society. I know that I'd love to have a part-time job doing something I love that also makes money (yes, I am a firm believer of money being one of several keys to that locked door of happiness), outside of my main career. I know that I want to be remembered long after I'm gone, because life really is a short thing. Right now, you're breathing, aware that you're reading this. One day, you won't even know that you're dead. 


But I've never really thought about it all that much. In my head, I know what I want...I just never really pictured reaching it, you know? 18 seemed like the age to reach, when everything would be at my fingertips. Now that I'm here, past it, I feel off balance.


What's not weird is that I kind of feel, of course I'm here. Where else would I be?


So yeah. 


The birthday itself was... well, there's no other way to describe it. It was nice. It was just a nice day. Family friends came over, some for lunch, some for dinner. The food itself was mind-blowing, but it was nice. The cake wasn't amazing, but it was nice. The people weren't my friends from school or anything, since we'd decided to keep it fairly simple, but they were nice company.


So really, the only thing I can say is that my birthday was nice.


We're planning to go to Sri Lanka on the 1st of November, in time for Kake's 40th alms-giving. We'll stay there for a week, be back on the 7th, Insha Allah. I'm planning on buying one of those Sri Lankan cricket shirts, because apparently they're playing in Dubai soon and we're going for the matches. 


God, I hope they win when we're there. I went for a cricket match in Abu Dhabi, Sri Lanka against Pakistan, and it was terrible. We lost the match, but what was worse was the sportsmanship of the spectators, the majority of which were Pakistanis. For some reason, they decided to start beating up all the Sri Lankans in sight. Due to the fact that we were there as family (the majority of us were female), our folks quickly hustled us out of there before it got too rowdy. But I was not impressed. I decided right there not to sit next to any of them at any future sporting matches, if only due to fear for the safety of my person.


Anyway. I'm off.


Ja ne.

Just Wash Your Cares Away

I haven't blogged about it because it seemed too final. I didn't want it to be set in stone yet.

The time has come (oh wow. I didn't realize how dramatic it would sound until I wrote it out.)


Basically, I couldn't get my visa in time. The last date to join the university was apparently the 26th of Sept. Since we applied late for the visa (Dad switched jobs, meaning a whole new residence visa, meaning having to wait to apply, meaning I didn't get it in time), it is entirely our fault. But, things happen for the best, I guess. If Mum had been with me in Scotland, chances are she wouldn't have been able to get to Sri Lanka in time for her father's funeral.


So I'm taking a gap year and applying to Dundee for the 2012 term. I was so massively disappointed, but oh well. I suppose it'll be nice to be stress-free for a year. Plus dad feels so guilty about the whole thing, he's promising me gifts left right and center. It's quite nice. I doubt I'll ever quit being Daddy's Darling, really, but this is lavish even for him. Not that I'm not taking advantage of it. Because I was seriously upset.


Mum got back yesterday from Lanka. She's much better now, disregarding the increase in headaches she's apparently suffering from. 


This entire week, I've had to take care of the house. My god, you never quite realize what you have until it's gone. I swept the entire house the other day (not the entire house. Not the third floor, because no one ever goes up there), and I'm telling you now, there is no exercise like a sweeping exercise. I was sweating so much! I can't believe that Mum does this on a regular basis. Given that I positively hate any sort of weight-reduction exercise that isn't fun (oh how I loathe the gym. Give me dancing any day), it was just awful. Mum must be in much better shape than me, really. I am never challenging her to a race again - not that she ever accepts. I think she hates running as much as I do. We're quite lazy people, really.


At first, I relished the thought that I had the keys to Mum's BMW and could go out whenever I liked. But oh my god, it turns into such a pain. I had to pick Aehshaan up from the metro station every single day, and then go to the mall and do the grocery shopping and buy lunch. I had no idea that eggs ran out so fast. Or bread. Lord, the bread.


And Shamiana is a COMPLETE AND UTTER rip-off. 38 Dhs for just two curries! One small butter chicken curry and one daal (dhal? dal?) curry! Dad wanted curry, so we went there, but holy cow, such a waste of money.


Never going there again. Ever. 


And then there was the fact that I had to take care of the dog. We delegated the tasks of taking him out to morning and night sessions. I got the night sessions, since Aehshaan is deaf to everything once his head hits the pillow. I don't think I've got a full night's sleep this entire bloody week. And then I had to wake up at 7:30 in the morning to give him his breakfast. The one time I thought it would be okay to just give it to him at 9:00 a.m, I discovered that my dog thinks that he is royalty and will not eat his food unless given at the proper time.


He was as happy as I was to see my mother, though. It was quite cute. His ears and head went down and he went snuffling around her legs, around and around, jumping onto her and trying to give her face a good lick. He did that weird shivering thing with his fur that he does when he gets super happy to see someone.


Which is only ever someone from the four of us, seeing as he's a bit mad.


Since I've lost my house key (again) and Aehshaan kept forgetting to leave his before he went to school, I couldn't leave through the front door when I had to go and pick him up and all. I had to go through the kitchen, lock the door from the inside, and then take the backdoor out. The first time I did that and came back in through the kitchen, Bruno was standing out there with his head tilted to the side as if to say, "Well. Alright then, if that's where you want to live now."


My best friend Adnan's birthday is tomorrow, but he has family coming over so we hung out yesterday instead. I was going absolutely mad looking for a present for him. I asked him what his favourite thing in the world was at the moment (I meant material goods. Clearly.) and he said, I kid you not, "Boobies and titties."


So then I remembered that he'd been asking for a Canon Mug for literally over a year, and I saw one at MOE the other day, so I decided to get that for him. But then while we were on the phone, I zoned out (he talks a lot) and suddenly when I got back he just kept saying, "Canon Mug. Canon Mug. Canon Mug." And I was like, in absolute horror, How did you know?! And then it turns out he didn't know what I was getting him, but he was asking for it. So that was that.


In the end, I got him a t-shirt that said Parkour Man on the front (a long-running joke between us) and Shimali's Best Friend on the back. I thought it was a pretty damned good gift, meself.


Someone asked me the other day if Adnan really could Parkour. And I said, "No, but he thinks he can. He falls a lot." 


That's it for now, this post is long enough.

Ja.

Better to have loved and lost, than have never loved at all.

31st of January 2011, Shadow, my first ever dog, and thus the one I've loved longest, passed away.
16th of February 2011, Prince, my beloved GSD-Belgium-Shepherd mix puppy passed away.
26th of September 2011, both my grandfather and my favourite grand uncle passed away.


Basically, 2011 is a year I'll want to forget, and never will.

It's the year I graduated. It's the year I said goodbye to an era of my life that will always remain a part of me, and goodbye to so many loved ones, both temporarily and forever. Some, I didn't even get to say goodbye.


I'm the sort of person that cries loud, but short. My grief happens in little bursts, but these could happen at literally any time. I cried for my grandfather on my Dad's side, who died years ago, just last month out of the blue. When I say I'm loud, I mean the sort of keening sobs you only see in movies. But I'm quick to calm down (these days, anyway. I think I'm getting used to losing people - I wasn't so easy to console a few months back. Mentioning my puppies would set me off.)


My brother is the same as me, although his cries are maybe not so high-pitched. He huddles in corners, his eyes covered, trying very hard to get a grip on himself. He hates people seeing him that way - what man would? 


One interesting thing about me - I can stay silent and not grieve for a very long time. Bottle it all up. However, if anyone asks how I'm holding up, or if I'm doing okay, or makes any sort of reference to the incident and how it relates to me, I will break down. And when I break down, I break. It's a bit embarrassing in retrospect, but I couldn't give a damn at the time. And that's perfectly alright.


When I found out about my grandfather's death (he's on my mother's side), I'd been in my room listening to music. I heard my father shouting for me, so I hurried into the master bedroom - his tone was a bit panicky. When I entered, I saw my mother standing on her side of the bed (she'd probably been trying to walk to her cupboard or the dresser), the phone clutched tightly in one hand, the other folded at the elbow over her eyes. She was crying out so loudly, with so much grief, so much anguish, I couldn't help but freeze in horror. Her head was thrown back, baring her throat to any force that wished to take her. And my father quickly said, "Kake just died." Kake (pronounced Kah-Kay) had testicular cancer, diabetes, no right foot, and other problems to add to that. 


I ran to my mother, hugging her tightly, cradling her head, trying to make her stop the sobs. It was heartbreaking. She hadn't thought it would happen. Kake was taken ill with similar symptoms to those he had today a few years ago - we all flew in, expecting the worst, but it turned out he was just dehydrated. So when she got the call in the afternoon saying he'd been rushed to the hospital, she'd assumed it was another false alarm. My Uncle Joy had just died that morning too (favourite grand uncle, related to us by marriage to my grandmother's oldest sister), at the ripe old age of 92. She didn't think there'd be another death in the family.


Who would?


Mum's at the airport now. She and her older sister, Yolany's mum. I wanted to go - she didn't let me. She said I had to stay and take care of my father and brother. Aehshaan can't afford to miss anymore school (he missed the first 2 weeks), and my dad needed to stay and work. I needed to stay behind and look after them, and Bruno. 


Writing actually helps a lot. Writing how I feel, and what happened. Puts things in perspective, reading it all through again. Reminds me of the rawness of the emotions of the time. 


It's wonderful, awe-inspiring how people come together in a crisis. I'd called Adnan almost immediately, sobbed the news over the phone, so that was me taken care of. Aehshaan and I both called our cousins to make sure they were alright - Yolany was taking it better than Yoan, apparently. Aunty Michelle and Aunt Fathi came right over, immediately. Much hugging and taking care of Mum took place, while the rest of us ran about the house making sure everything was packed and that the tickets were taken care of. At the airport, Uncle Rajesh, Aunty Rochelle, Gillian and Joann were all there to help Mum and Yolany's mum through everything. They checked them in, handled the luggage, made sure everything went smooth.


I am so, so grateful for the people in my life. These people that come at a moment's notice, drop everything when their friends need them. They're so rare. Sure, there are disagreements along the way - but all families fight. And we're all family, really. Our friends are the family we chose. The family we chose to love.


Thank you, to all those people that came. Thank you, to all those people who keep us in their prayers. Thank you, to all those people who have ever, no matter how briefly, loved us.


Peace.

Packing Up Your Life

Right, so I've decided not to mention the visa again until I actually have it. I'm not a whiny person by nature (and I greatly dislike people who are), so this is the last you'll hear of it until I actually am ready to leave to Dundee.


In the meantime, I'm going to whine (shut up) about my lack of luggage allowance.


If my family's visa comes at the same time as mine, then I don't think this will be an issue. I'll just use up their luggage space - they'll only stick around for a week, it's not like they'll need much. My brother is actually notorious among our relatives for his extremely light packing.


But if I have to pack for just 30 kilos (or God forbid: less), I don't know what I'm going to do.


For one thing, my clothes will not be able to fit that criteria. My shoes take up an entire suitcase by themselves, and I personally don't think I have that many. Although I bought these gorgeous suede boots yesterday from New Look (219 Dhs! But so worth it). I literally couldn't resist. Those boots spoke to me. I took my brother with me ("Never again," he moaned later when I drove home) and had a bit of a dilemma deciding between the black and grey, but settled on black finally. They're heeled and come up to my knees, and I absolutely love them. My Mum gasped in awe when I pulled them out of the bag to show her, but gasped in horror when she saw the price tag. 


Parents. *shakes head* I justified by saying it's cold in Scotland, I should spend on boots. Which is true.


I randomly strutted around my room at like 3 in the morning in those boots. Which is a very good indication that my love for them will probably never die.


But I'm drifting off topic.


I have a massive stuffed toy that I sleep with. His name is Leonard. I'm not entirely sure what he is - some sort of giant ladybug, monkey mix. He's brown, with the most adorable face, squishy, and I love him. I take him with me everywhere, including different countries. I had to carry him as hand luggage once, and the stares I got at the airport were embarrassing, but did I care? Well, yes, I did, but I'll never see those people again, whatever. The problem that arises now is that I don't think he'll fit in the suitcase. I really hope I can take him. He's my Leonard. I would rather not leave him behind.

Leonard

Leonard: Mug Shot

Taking Leonard will remind me of home. Oh lord, imagine if they decide at security to open up my suitcase, find Leonard, and then discover that it is impossible to stuff him back in. Because sure as Hell, if I'm taking him with me, I'll need to sit on the suitcase first.


There's loads of guides on what to bring with you to uni on the main Dundee website, plus on the individual residence pages. I've got most of the stuff - but again, luggage space. No way am I going to be able to take a duvet with me. Absolutely no chance of that fitting in the suitcase. I suppose sheets and stuff are all well and good, but I'll have to buy the actual pillows and duvet there. Mum actually bought one of those puff-up pillow things - they're flat, so you can pack it, but when you take off the wrapping they plump up to an ordinary size. She also bought a duvet she thought would fit.


Neither do.


I'm just leaving it all behind.


In other news, Adnan gave me a letter that he says I have to read only when I'm on the plane. He says I will be amazed, awe-struck, angry. I'm dying to know what he wrote on the bloody thing, but I'm keeping to my promise - partially because I'll spoil the fun if I open it early. Also, I have a feeling he's over-hyped the content of it. 


Man, I'm going to miss him.


At any rate, I'm off now.


Ja.

Well.

This is right on the heels of my last post, I know. But.


I just had a look at Blackboard, which is the online teaching tool they use at the uni. Went through most everything, to see if I can keep up. Banish that fear of falling behind. Downloaded some presentations that were up. 


Just a note. I am really, really, really going to enjoy the next few years.

MIA

This visa thing is frustrating. I know this is like the hundredth post I have up here regarding that, but seriously. I've already missed a week of my course. Tomorrow will start the next week I'm going to be absent for. I'm just so worried about how I'm going to catch up, even though I know the professors will help and all.


This girl I've met via facebook that's on the architecture course, Emily, added me to a group dedicated to the first year architects. I had a look at some of the discussions - they're already talking about presentations! As in, they've done them. And lord, I have monster stage fright. I've been onstage before - school plays, master of ceremonies for a couple of occasions, and so on. My knees literally shake; I always make sure to wear a dress or skirt of something, to cover it up. Looking at my face, I'm told, you can't tell I'm about to pass out. But I really am.


As it goes on, and I know that the audience is not about to burst out laughing (unless I've just thrown in a joke or something), it gets better. The knees don't, but the suffocated feeling in my chest does alleviate a little. I suppose as I do more presentations in class, I'll get over it. And I'll be friends with them, so I guess it won't be as daunting as a stage audience. But still.


The point is I have to catch up, and do presentations on the caught up work. And I don't have any casual skirts. I've only ever worn formal dresses to the times I needed to be MC, or my school uniform (long skirt on the days of speeches and presentations and such). HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO HIDE MY KNEES?


Right, first thing in the morning, I'm going out and buying skirts. Whatever. I can do this.


Emily has been great. She's offered to help me catch up once I get there, which is a huge load off. Teachers are good, but I've always found studying with classmates much more effective. I'm not sure if this is a universal thing or just me, but there you go. I studied for my A-Levels by forcing my brother study in my room at the same time - he'd quiz me when I asked, which was actually a massive help for physics. He has a knack for asking questions that miraculously appear on the paper. And saying the answers out loud to him helped make it stick. 


On a different note, I really, truly cannot wait to meet my new flatmates. They've done just the sweetest thing. I received an invite on fb to an event, so I checked it out. Guess what it's called?


"Party for Shimali."


Since I missed out on freshers', they've decided to throw a little thing in my honour, and I am completely, utterly touched. Tears of joy, I swear to God, were there. (Side note: I'm an annoyingly emotional person. I cried, full on sobs, for Spiderman 3, when [SPOILER ALERT] Harry died. Even though the entire theatre was laughing at Tobey Maguire's scrunched-up crybaby face.) It's so very sweet of them. I know I'm going to absolutely love my new family.


It's happening this Friday. I really hope I'm in Dundee by then. Like, seriously. Every time I check the application status of the visa, I get a little pang of sadness when I see it still isn't through. 


If I haven't gotten it by tomorrow, I'll have to find the number for the residences and explain why I haven't collected the keys yet, and when I probably will. I hope they accept that I don't know. And then explain to the flatmates that I may not be there in time for the party. Which would be AWFUL, seeing as they've gone to all the trouble. 


*Sigh* Anyway. I'm going to sleep. Maybe things will look better in the morning.


Ja.

Phoenix Rising

Erm. I found this post under my drafts - apparently never posted the thing. So here it is.


A bird decided to make its nest in the tree right outside our house. I think it was a sparrow. Either way, there was a tiny little baby bird within about 2 or three weeks, and our family was thrilled. We never touched it, of course, because we didn't want to freak out the Mummy Bird, and we didn't want to disturb the nest.


Yesterday, Mum noticed that the nest was tilting onto its side. She wanted to go correct it, but Aehshaan and I dissuaded her for fear of causing more harm than actual good. We figured the Mummy Bird would do it herself. It's her duty, after all, isn't it?


Not so. This morning, sadly, we found the poor little thing on the ground right outside the tree. Such a shame, too. I really regret not getting Mum to interfere after all, but at the same time, I'm kind of glad she didn't. Not out of any sadism or anything - merely because right now, she is determined to blame herself (and us, mind you) for the bird's death. If she had gone and done something to the nest, and God still killed the little bird, she would blame herself much, much worse. At least this way there's less pain for her, I guess?


We held a small burial for the bird, in a corner of the garden. It was beautiful, really. It was buried under a tree, with flowers on the grave. I said a few words.


I really hope that little bird does rest in peace. And if it's true that all animals go to Heaven, then all the better. It had a short life, but it was loved for the time it was here. 


Maybe the bird's meeting up with Prince and Shadow as we speak. They must be having a good time up there. For those who don't know, Prince and Shadow were two of my dogs. They died a fortnight apart from each other, taken by the same disease - Shadow on the 31st of January, and Prince on the 16th of February.


I may as well use this post to say something about them.


I got Shadow from an old lady who didn't have the time to take care of her. She was about 2 months old when we got her - a tiny little thing, really. Terrified of other dogs (We got our other dog, Rover, on the same day) but fiercely defensive of the property, even at that age. She was very easy to love, too. She was a mongrel, but she didn't eat like one. She picked at her food, and generally got bullied out of eating by Rover. We had to stand and watch to make sure Rover didn't chase her off and eat all the food herself.


As for her name, we knew that Shadow was what you would call a male dog. However, we'd already planned names for our dogs, and eating plans, and everything (we were at that age *grin*). So when we got two females instead of two males, we just decided to keep the name. 


We got Prince last year. He was only 6 months old at the time, born February 14th 2011. We brought home him and his sister, Persia, from an aunt who had about a dozen dogs already and wanted to give these two away to good homes. We took them both because we didn't want to separate them. They were our Valentine Dogs.


Prince was lovely. He and Persia were both pitch-black, so that you couldn't see them at all at night. Prince wore a dark red collar, Persia a choker. Yes, they were named for the movie, The Prince of Persia. Haha, that was my idea. 


Anyway, a mosquito-ridden disease somehow infected Shadow. I can't remember the name right now, but it affects your heart. Shadow died on a Monday, but I didn't find out about it until the following Wednesday. This was due to my mother knowing how much I loved my dog, and how I would react. I reacted as predicted, of course. I cried for days.


And then we found out that Prince was sick with the same thing that took Shadow, and that he wouldn't make it. I cried about that too, but praying about these things doesn't seem to work. If they're going to go, they're going to go. When Prince died, it still came as something of a shock to us. I think deep down we believed that he would be saved or something - that God couldn't be so cruel as to take both of them from us at the same time.


Persia managed to survive, miraculously. She caught it too. When I say miraculously, I mean because Prince was always the stronger of the two. We didn't actually expect Persia to make it too, but she's a fighter. She did.


I miss my dogs all the time. Even more so now, knowing I won't see them again. But life goes on, and time heals all wounds. Just because the pain of their deaths have faded, doesn't mean the love has. And they will always live on in our memories.


So. Rest In Peace; Shadow, Prince, and little baby bird. 


You were are loved.

Still Not Quite There

Argh, this is just plain frustrating.

I was supposed to leave for Dundee yesterday. The original plan was the 20th of this month, but things got done earlier than we'd planned. We'd talked to the people at the UK Border Agency, and they'd agreed to send my visa to me in two days, so we planned to leave Friday, which was the 16th. 

But no. No visa.

So I'm still stuck here.

One good thing is that I get to see a couple of people I'd thought I wouldn't be able to. I'm meeting them for lunch later. 

But that's about the only upside.

Believing that I was leaving Friday, I'd packed everything and was ready to leave, see? So now, I have very little clothes lying about, and I can't be bothered opening up the suitcase and pulling out everything that I spent hours packing. I keep throwing everything in the wash and hoping to find some hidden miracle in my closet, but I have the feeling that it won't work out that way.

And I'm so excited for uni, late though I am. New friends, new city, new life. I love it here too, but you know, it's university! The time of our lives! Although I'm late. Argh, I can't get that little fact out of my head.

Damn it.

I bought most of my textbooks the other day. Just the one missing, now. I figured I'd try and get some reading done, so hopefully I won't be that behind everyone else. The books look a bit daunting, but I'll do it. I know that they said it would be easy to catch up and all, but still. Might as well give myself an advantage.

Oh, off topic, I watched Coach Carter yesterday! I hadn't watched it before, even though most of my family's given it glowing reviews. I thought, from the name, that it was a guy movie about baseball or something. But I did watch it yesterday, and it's awesome! Totally not just a guy movie. And it's basketball, not baseball. Which is kind of a relief, because I don't understand how baseball works. I think it's like rounders, but I'm not sure. In this household, it's just cricket and football. And I only ever watch the world cups of either, because that's the only thing interesting enough for me to watch.

Speaking of which, I hope it won't be too late to sign up for any of the sports clubs once I get there. I really wanted to join Archery, and maybe Skiing and Snowboarding? Because archery is just plain cool, and I've never skied or snowboarded, and I want to learn. But I'll wait until I get my schedule before I go around joining anything. I heard that the freshman year is supposed to be super hectic, right after transitioning from high school.

And, well, I'd better get ready for that lunch now.

Ja. 

Catch Up

The dog has recently taken to sleeping in my room in the middle of the day. This very rarely happened, before. In the old house, he'd sleep in my room when I had exams coming up and needed peace and quiet to study. I liked to think that he was warning my family off from bothering me.


I can think of two reasons for this new habit of his.


One. Bruno has sensed that I'm going to be leaving him behind soon, and so has decided to spend all his spare time with me. He'll show diamonds who the real Girl's Best Friend is.


Or two. Bruno has sensed my impending departure, and is staking his claim on my room.


In other news, I'm nowhere near prepared to leave. I still have so many things to buy! I keep thinking of stuff in the middle of the night that I have yet to get, and adding it to the never-ending list that's lying on my table. But I kind of feel bad asking Dad for the money, since he has enough to think about what with the actual uni tuition fees and all. So I've been trying to just use my own pocket money. 


Yesterday, I bought Aehshaan a going-away gift with said pocket money. He's my only brother - I figured I could spare the expense. It was a game he wanted but couldn't buy because he's saving up for a game coming out on the 18th - Modern Warfare 3 or maybe Gears of War 3? I don't know, it's some fighting game, either way.


So I got him Deus Ex: Human Revolution; Excellent reviews, and I really liked the look of the game trailer.


From my side of the gaming board, Junichi Masuda is apparently going to make some grand announcement on the 18th (yes, same date as Aehshaan's whatever game release) about some surprise addition to the Pokemon games. People are speculating that it's Pokemon Gray, to go with Black and White. I don't know about that - seems a bit too early for it, in my opinion. Black and White released worldwide only last March, after all. Maybe it's an event?


Not like I could get into any of it, anyway. Something's wrong with our internet connection - my DS can't connect. I haven't accessed Dreamworld in over a month now. 


Mum told me to pull out the suitcases from the cupboard under the stairs (HARRY POTTER!) today. Start packing all my things. I'm a bit lazy, to be honest. I really can't be bothered. I've been sort of down with regards to that, seeing as my course officially started today. I really hope they don't do anything seriously important - I hate being behind, having to catch up. 


Ah well.


Ja ne.

A Short Excerpt From The Lives Of A Dysfunctional Family

The fact that I can't get a hold of my UK visa is annoying. Irritating. Just a plain bummer.


Dealing with the University, though, has been super helpful. I informed them that I'd need to matriculate late and all, and they've replied reassuring me that everything will be okay. I even just got a call from the people wanting to know when I'd be collecting my keys. 


Two days ago, I sent an e-mail saying that I would be late to the architecture course to someone I assume will be one of my professors, Cameron Wilson. The thing is, I've only ever known Cameron Diaz. So I addressed the e-mail as, "Dear Ms. Wilson".


The reply, although very nice and all, was signed exactly like this: 


Kind Regards
(Mr.) Cameron Wilson.


Oh lord, the shame.


If brown people could blush, I'd be beet red. I shrieked when I saw it. My God. I don't know how I'm going to face this professor when I see him. It probably won't be as bad as I'm imagining, but still. My parents burst out into peals of laughter when I hung my head and related the story to them, informing me that I'm an idiot for not realizing that Cameron is generally a guy's name.


In other news, Aehshaan was in my room just now, talking about something or the other (I wasn't paying attention). Suddenly, he falls silent and kind of cocks his head in the direction of the door. His eyes narrowed, and he hissed, all cool like, "The dog's gone for my burger."


And he was out of there like a shot.

Really, between my e-mails and the relationship between my dog and brother, it's a miracle our family functions normally in public.


Ja.

Cakes Rolling Downhill

Right, so I decided that, since I'm moving to the university in around two weeks, I'd best start preparing.


Well, yes, I've been preparing for months now. But I mean preparing, proper.


Last night, at around three in the morning, it hit me that I'm not quite ready. I've got most of the clothes now - I think I still need to buy a couple of jackets. Apparently, 18 degrees Celsius is considered warm there. In Dubai, we're surviving at temperatures of over 50 degrees. Warm, here, is like 35 degrees, I guess? I don't know, I just know that we complain it's hot when the weather escalates past 45 degrees. One thing I do know, however, is that 18 degrees is not warm. It's freaking cold. 

Yeah, I need more jackets.


Anyway, as I was saying, I'm not ready. I still needed to buy knick-knacks such as earplugs and all. So, I pulled out a sheet of paper and wrote down a to-do list.


I also had a random craving for Cinnabon. Realizing that this was the perfect opportunity to try and learn to cook, I looked up the recipe for Cinnabon cinnamon rolls, and added the ingredients of that to the to-do list for the next day.


When I woke up at my usual hour of 3 in the afternoon, I got dressed and drove to Yolany's place. My brother was playing video games there, so I picked him up and headed to Geant, which is like a massive Tesco or Walmart or whatever at the local mall. 


We picked up the ingredients, picked up some other stuff (thumb tacks, a note pad, couple of toiletries), picked up my brother's friends (they wanted to play basketball at the court near our house), and headed home.


Now, I wanted to make cinnamon rolls. That was the plan. I made the frosting first, and stuck that in the fridge. It tasted pretty good - the same as the Cinnabon rolls', I should think. Then I started on the actual rolls.


Complete chaos.


I tried to get organized, I really did. But before long, there was flour all over the table, sugar sprinkled among that, and the dough stuck to my fingers and would not come off. I do not know how people are supposed to bake that stuff, when half of it goes down the drain in an attempt to have reasonably dough-free hands. 


Dad came in right as I was trying to knead the stupid dough, and had this weird smirk on his face that kind of said, my daughter is a really lousy cook. And it's funny.


I told him it was tougher than it looked, and he nodded sympathetically, but really, I know he was laughing on the inside.


Anyway, halfway through I realized that I wouldn't be able to roll the dough up like the recipe called for. I added half a cup more flour than asked even, because it wasn't solid enough to roll up. It was too squishy, and stuck to my fingers way too much. 


So I decided that, instead of making cinnamon rolls, I was baking a cinnamon cake. 


I altered the rest of the recipe, according to how I thought the cake should turn out. I poured half of the batter/dough thing into a cake pan, melted some butter and spread it over that, added the cinnamon and brown sugar, and then poured the rest of the batter over that. I figured that that ought to work.


It did. *epic grin here*


So even though I couldn't make proper cinnamon rolls, the cinnamon cake turn out delicious. Tasted exactly like a Cinnabon roll, but cake form. I'd even added less cinnamon than was listed, since Dad mentioned at the table that he didn't like Cinnabon that much. 


The cake:

Cinnamon Cake!

The Cinnamon Cake and its Awesome Patissiere. 

I'm in my PJ's in the picture, because the cake finished baking at like 10 pm. 


Mum and I were tempted to eat more than the piece we cut, but we decided to let the cake cool a bit and share it around in the morning. I figure I'll take some of it to Yolany's. Yomal, her younger brother, looked super eager when I mentioned my Cinnabon plans to him earlier today.


So it looks like I can bake when I get to uni. I'm not sure if I'm going to - baking this cake was a MAJOR hassle. Well, alright, not really. I just really didn't like the stupid, sticky dough. Or batter. Isn't it called batter, for cakes? Can you call it dough? The recipe called it dough, but that was meant for rolls. Maybe the term changes depending on what you're baking, even though it's the same ingredients.


Whatever.


In other news, my flatmates have met each other and are enjoying Freshers'. It sounds loads fun. I've seen pictures and all that they've put up, and the flat looks pretty nice. I'll put my own pictures up here once I get there.


For now, though:


Ja ne.

Rant A Bit, Cope A Bit

Well, that last post was a bit...um. Dramatic.


Sorry about that.


Anyway, people have started moving into Heathfield now. That's my new residence hall, at the university. I still haven't left to Scotland, and probably won't be able to for another two or three weeks. Visa issues. 


Yeah, I'm missing freshers' week. Which I was devastated by, and cried about. I ranted at the unfairness of it all for ages. But I've kind of adjusted to the news, now. My flatmates seem great (I've met four of the five via facebook), and have assured me that they'll post pictures and keep me updated with what's happening.


I also happen to be missing a week of my course. Which is super awful, even worse than missing freshers', really. Because, see, I apparently need to maintain 'satisfactory' progress on the architecture course to keep my scholarship. And missing the first week, when they introduce you to everything, is going to keep me at a disadvantage.


Ah, well, I'm sure I'll catch up. I hear that the very first class is at the beach. Again, disappointed to be missing that. But there are two architecture undergrads across the hall from me, in the next flat. I'll ask them for help, too. Hopefully, it'll all turn out okay.


The university has been super helpful about it all. I was a bit surprised, actually. Considering the experience I have with Cambridge (the high school, not university, duh), where everything seems to be done late, it was a refreshing change. I think I'm really, really going to enjoy myself at Dundee.


In other news, dad bought me a little camera the other day. I have that massive canon one that he's given me too, but I wanted a normal looking one, because I can hardly take the big one with me everywhere, can I? This one's a little black one, good specs. There was a prettier dark bluish-purple one in the store that I wanted, but Dad pointed out that I would be the only one to see the camera, while others would see the quality of the pictures. Which is true. And the black one was better in that case. And it looks rather sweet. A bit delicate, too. I'm thinking of getting one of those screen protectors that they sell for the Nintendo DS.


Oh, speaking of which, I haven't played Pokemon in AGES. MONTHS. Haha, I should get back to doing that. I made such a big fuss about the fifth generation and all, and now look at me. Poor DS is collecting dust, sitting in a dark corner. 


And speaking of Pokemon, just drifting off topic here - I've been watching anime to pass the time. I mean, I should be in uni by now, but I'm not. So I downloaded like 90-something episodes of this anime called Fairy Tail, and WOAH. Love. It. To. Bits.


I'm such a kid.


Gah, I bet this is all just a coping mechanism for my lack of uni life right now. Yeesh.


I'm off.