Friends, Love and Theatre

I kind of love my friends.

I've joined LIP Theatre, which is a student-run theatre society at the university. We've had a nightly show over the past three days, consisting of several 15-minute sketches. The sketch that I'm in is on last.

I asked (cough-bullied-cough) my friends to come support me. It was 3 pounds a ticket, and to get to watch me, you had to stay through the entire 2 hours of the show. And Tuesday, yesterday, a bunch of them showed up!

I was so happy to see them. We've all been so busy with the course lately, and I really didn't think as many of them would show up as they did. As soon as it was the interval, I ran out from backstage, grinning my face off, and gave them monster hugs. One of my friends picked me right up and twirled me about, and another jokingly asked for my autograph (which I graciously gave). I felt like a complete star, which is great for a self-confessed narcissist such as myself. Later, after they had watched me perform, we headed to the bar to watch the rest of some football game that was apparently a big deal (not a big fan, but I clapped when the others were cheering).

In other news, I'm headed home in 3 weeks! I'm so excited! I seriously cannot wait to see my family, especially my dog. The other day Mum turned the webcam toward Bruno when I was Skyping her, and I felt so homesick as I watched him play around with Dad. First thing I do when I get home (after getting a burger) is hug Bruno and never let go. 

But anyway. Our last performance was tonight. The rest of the cast have gone for an after-party, but I've had to come home and work on my architecture stuff. Balancing the course and theatre is getting difficult, but I want to do both of them, and so I'm making the effort. It's only my first year, after all. If I can't do it now, I don't know how I'll cope in later years.

Ja ne.

The Architect Relationship

Things have calmed down, somewhat. We just finished our third project, and have started on the fourth. Considering the fact that this is only the end of the second month, that's...well, a lot. Some days I feel like time is just flying, and others it seems as if it's completely stopped. 

Of course, the pace is slowly picking up. Last week wasn't as hectic as it could have been, but that was only because we were being introduced to the project. Now, we're getting right into things. We're being told to do more and more and more...but since we expected it, having followed the same sort of format for the last three projects, I don't think it's as bad. We're learning what we're capable of, and more importantly, how fast we can finish. Time management is so very important on this course. 

As for the work itself...well. It's a love-hate relationship. There are days when I seriously question the reasons I picked architecture as a career-choice, and then there are the days when I think, Yeah, it's okay. I love this. 

One of the really good things, I think, is that we get to work pretty closely with our tutor. We have reviews on Tuesdays and Fridays, where we meet with our respective design tutors and tutor groups (there's roughly 12 of us to a group, I'd say) to go over the work we've done. Now that we've moved into designing our own houses, we're getting critique from each other as well, as opposed to just our design tutor giving us advice. I'm in Cameron's group (he's the Head of Year 1 Architecture), which I'm really happy about. Although I suppose everyone must be happy with their own design tutors - one of the reasons I like Cameron is because I work more with him, and the same must hold true for the others.

Another plus is the studio space. We work in close proximity to the other students, so there are always people around to give you advice (and chat, which is, of course, equally important). I like almost everyone that I've met so far - people here are really nice. 

It's Halloween tomorrow. A friend of mine dragged me out to go costume shopping with him today, and it was exhausting. We were wandering around for over 3 hours trying to find him a costume he was happy with. I found one pretty quick (a bumblebee!), and bought a couple of other things as well, including a lovely, soft paw-print-patterned blanket for Bruno. It's sad how I buy more things for my dog than for the people in my family. When we got home, I discovered that the costume was too big for me... so I'll either have to sew it up myself, or return it and ask for a smaller size. It depends on which I can be bothered doing, because I'm so worn out.

At one point, I accidentally walked out of a store without paying for something. A few floors up the shopping mall, I realized what I had in my hand, and completely panicked. Gavin (the friend looking for a costume) said he remembered me paying, but I didn't. I went back and paid for it (I don't think they would have noticed if I didn't go back, but I couldn't do that). I don't mind having paid for it twice, if that's the case (it was only a pound). I'd rather pay twice than not at all, in all honesty (not if it's over ten pounds, though).

One of the really sad things about the course, though, is how we change our ways of thinking. Instead of saying, Oh, I have free time tomorrow, I can sleep in!, we say, and I quote, Oh, we have free time tomorrow, I can work!

Architects have no free time.

Well, okay, I am obviously exaggerating. But still, we do work a lot. 

And love it.

Ja ne.

So Busy!

Oh My God, SO BUSY!

There are days when I sleep at like 3:30 AM and have to wake up by around 7 or 8 in the morning. Being a person that has always made sure to have at least seven hours of sleep a night, it's horrible! And I'm not even partying the night away or anything... I'm working.

I don't think that the course is so demanding that I have to work through the night all the time though; it's just that I'm a slow worker, trying to make sure every little thing is perfect before going further. I'm able to keep up intellectually with what's happening, no problem, and I understand what I have to have done. It's DOING them that's making me hate the world.

With practice, though, I should get better.

At least it's fun. I mean, it's time-consuming work, but the majority of our time is spent in the studio, completing our projects. And since there are so many people doing the same thing, you can spend the time chatting away as you work, so it doesn't seem that tedious. The people are fun to be around, so it's all good on that front.

Mum's already in the process of booking my flight back for December. With the way things are going, the months are going to fly and I'll be home in no time. Woo!

Anyway, just thought I'd do this quick update. I have to get back to working in a minute.

Ja ne!

Freshers' and Architects

I'm awfully sorry that I've taken so long to update - a few people have asked about it, but I honestly haven't had the time to spare. It's a Saturday tomorrow though, so woohoo!

Let's see, in my last post I mentioned that I was going to flying off the next day. While the journey from Dubai to London to Dundee was interesting for me, it's not interesting enough to go into detail here. The most memorable moments were:

1) As we were about to land in London, there was this massive sound and the tail end of the plane suddenly dipped. I was convinced that this was it, it was all over, we were going to die. This fear of flying is a serious thing for me - tears came out of nowhere and I started finding it kind of difficult to breathe, plus I ended up with my face buried in Aehshaan's sleeve (thank God it wasn't a stranger sitting next to me) with my eyes tightly shut. Turns out it was just the wheels coming out or whatever - but still, in my defense, I've flown all my life and I don't recall the plane ever tilting as a result of the wheels coming down.

2) Mum introduced me to everybody that I could possibly be introduced to - friends of friends, neighbours, cousins. She basically wanted me to contact them in case of emergencies, but I couldn't help but point out that they were living in London, and it was a bit unrealistic to expect them to come rushing to a stranger's aid when said stranger lived hours away. Not that that fact deterred her.

3) Shopping. We did a lot of shopping for uni, and in the end found that it didn't quite fit into the car's boot. Aehshaan and I had to squeeze into the back seat with the bags, but it was alright in the end because they provided some warmth in the car once we reached Scotland.

I've been here for two weeks now! Freshers' Week was fun, but kind of a blur. Mum and the family stayed on until the 7th, so I did spend quite a bit of time with them as well. When we were saying our goodbyes, I swear I was fine. I hugged Dad, and he kind of gave me a gruff pat on the back and told me to take care of myself. I hugged Aehshaan, and he gave me a quick squeeze before pushing me away and telling me sternly not to frolic with boys when I should be studying (realize how very reversed the roles of my father and brother seem to be). And when I turned to hug Mum, I felt pretty calm. But as I hugged her, she squeezed and told me to stay safe and that she loved me, and her voice broke. And then I broke too, and started crying out of nowhere. And then we were both crying and hugging, and Aehshaan was standing there awkwardly, asking after a minute if we would like a tissue or something.

I'm okay now though. Like, seriously. I love Skype, it's a life-saver. And once I started making proper friends here, I felt much much better.

Speaking of which - the people here are really nice! I cannot say this enough. I was really pretty nervous at first about talking to everyone (seeing as I'm international and all), but it's quite alright! I think the main thing is that you have to be the one to step forward and say hello first. These people are new, and they're nervous too! Don't be afraid to smile and offer your name. They almost always smile back and offer their own, and voila, new friend! 

The architecture course has already gotten a bit stressful, although our Head of Year did tell us not to stress about it. Our first class was on a beach, which was actually loads fun and got you bonding with whoever was in your team. The stressful part was the lesson following the beach, the next day. We were told to go out into Dundee, find someplace that inspired us, and to then present our inspiring place to our respective tutor groups by Friday (which meant only three days of work, including the day we were told of the project).

I've stayed up until 3:30 AM for the past two nights in a row, trying to get this stuff done. And I'm not even procrastinating (much)! The thing is that I'm a fairly slow worker when it comes to drawing and all, because I like things to be done well, not quickly. And, as any of my friends will tell you, I'm far fonder of Maths and Physics than I am of art (although art is good fun too).

The hard work paid off, I think. My tutor group seemed to like my presentation, as did my tutor. I got positive comments, and the critique didn't make me feel like I wanted to kill myself, which is always a plus. I'm pretty sensitive when it comes to my work (as I'm sure most people are), but the criticism was put across in a way that made me feel like it was a genuine improvement to the piece rather than just saying, "Well, your work is crap."

And you know what? I overslept! The presentation was due this morning, and I'd set my alarm for 7:00 AM after falling asleep at 3:30 AM. I woke up, turned off the alarm and went back to sleep! Next thing I knew, I was shooting out of bed in a panic, convinced that it was 10:00 AM (we were supposed to have presented at 9:00 AM) and that my life as an architecture student was already over. Luckily, though, it was only 8:20 in the morning. I had just enough time to quickly wash up and change, grab a mouthful of cereal and set off running to class.

I'd planned on rehearsing what to say in the morning, but because of the sleeping in, I had to go pin up my work and then pace in front of it and mutter my speech to myself. I didn't have it written down, and so I had to keep repeating the points in my head and hope to God I didn't forget. I ended up sounding a bit African-American during the actual presentation, but I think it just made my tutor group pay more attention.

So anyway. I'll try and update soon, but no promises. We were told that we were going to no longer have lives of our own, having chosen our fates with the architecture course.

Airplanes and Nandos Chicken

This will very likely be my last post as a resident of Dubai. After all, I'm flying out to my new life (with the family) on the 26th, and taking up as a student in Scotland. 

That's right. TWO DAYS.

Excited? Yes. Terrified? Very much so.

Why are you scared, you ask? For one thing, I've never lived on my own before (yes, blah blah, I'll make new friends and all, but still). For another, it's a whole new world for me. And most fantastically fearful of all:

I'm deathly afraid of airplanes. 

I don't even know when this fear started. Honestly, I've been flying my entire life. But this fear has come around fairly recently; I'd say that it developed over the last three years or so.  I hate turbulence like anything, since I convince myself every time it happens that the plane is going down in a ball of flames, and I can't even jump out because I'm not that strong a swimmer (I tend to conveniently forget the altitude when I picture myself in these situations...also that I can't dive, and I'll probably die of a belly flop).

While I'm terrified of the actual flight, I've no problem with the airport and boarding part of it all. I actually like that part. One of my favourite times is when my brother and I race through the aisles of the airplane (yes, we are both almost 20, but age will never stop us) to get to the window seat first. Window seats are heaven, and much-coveted, although for no more reason than that we get to look outside. Our flight this time is a daylight one, which I am very thankful for. I don't know why, but I always feel safer when it's a daytime flight. 

Anyway, the plan is to fly (via Qatar Airways) to the London Heathrow airport. We're going to spend 3 nights in London sightseeing, and then we're doing a drive up to Dundee, with a night's stay each in Manchester and Edinburgh. We were originally planning to fly to Edinburgh, but one of my dad's colleagues encouraged doing the drive instead; apparently, the scenery is gorgeous. I'm perfectly happy with this, seeing as it means less flying involved. 

And more good news! I got an e-mail from the uni last night saying that I'd won a scholarship for the architecture course (partial scholarship, don't get your hopes up yet)! Oh God, Dad was so happy. I mean, no seriously, the look of utter happiness on his face was so awesome. Don't forget, he has to send Aehshaan to uni next year too, and recently he's been a bit...quiet, shall we say? The rest of us felt so bad for him, seeing as he's the sole bread-winner and all, and he's been really stressed with work recently. I really had given up hope of winning the scholarship; I'd been under the impression that if I'd won it, I'd have been notified already. BUT NOT SO! Ah, so relieved. 

On a different note. 

I found out that if you eat at every single Nandos restaurant in the world, and can prove it, you get to eat free Nandos for the rest of your life. Seeing as I love Nandos and plan to live to a very ripe old age (Insha Allah), this seems perfect. 

Below is the e-mail I sent to the Nandos people earlier today:

Hello there! 

First, before my question, let me thank you for the wonder that is your amazing food. I can't get enough of it. I also stock up on almost all the flavours of your Peri-Peri sauce that I can find - that stuff's a godsend. 

Anyway (before I get carried away detailing everything I love about your food), I wanted to ask what kind of proof would be required in order to show that I've been to your restaurants all over the world? A picture with me eating the chicken from inside the restaurant, or posing with an employee? Or maybe posing with the sign? Because I'd really like to try that Hungry Traveller challenge and get myself some free food. You know, what with the recession and everything. 

Please do let me know! I'm contemplating travelling the world for you, after all. 

Much love (from an extremely satisfied Nandos-chicken-lover),


Shimali

P.S. I'm also an avid fan of coupons. Just saying. 




And there you have it. I really hope they send me some coupons.

Ja ne.

How? HOW?

I don't just go around handing out my e-mail address. I give it out when I see a little box saying, "We will not use your e-mail address for third-parties blah blah blah," or if the store or person I'm giving it to has a genuine reputation or reason for needing it.


And yet, STILL, I'm getting junk mail. WHERE HAVE I GONE WRONG? One of these websites/stores is lying, clearly, and giving out e-mail addresses to whoever asks willy-nilly. How can we trust the world in these troubled times? I just deleted a bunch of e-mails from my Junk Mail folder in my inbox: Fucbook, ROLEX GIVEAWAYS FREE GET IT NOW, Enlarge Your P*N*S...and some girl keeps e-mailing me, asking where I've been and didn't I like her anymore. 


LADY, I DON'T KNOW YOU, STOP E-MAILING ME ABOUT SOME NON-EXISTENT NIGHT WE SPENT TOGETHER.


I'm resorting to writing out letters now. It's fun, if a bit of a pain for my hands. Ah, how we have evolved, if we (or maybe just I) find holding an actual pen tedious. I wrote to Niki while she was away at college this past year, and I enjoyed knowing she was receiving them. It felt nice - almost like a blast to the past, to the old days when our parents wrote letters because e-mails didn't exist.


Woah. A world without e-mails. Almost unthinkable to us now, isn't it? T'was called Snail Mail for a reason. No immediate way of contacting someone with official details and files attached. Of course, junk mail has existed since then too. No doubt our parents were getting fliers about brothels downtown, or the newest supermarket sales (sans coupons, the bastards).


Obviously, I'm not really resorting to hand-written letters all the time. Like I said, it's a pain. Also, e-mails are free, and I'm frugal/stingy. 


Ja ne.

This Time, Shit's Real

So I applied for my visa on the 19th of this month. Divya and Shanthi, from IQ Education Consultants (they're the ones who said they'd handle my visa, remember?) had been preparing all the paperwork for me, as well as fixing my appointment, and basically handling everything.


Shanthi made me sit my IELTS last month too. I didn't want to, because it wasn't necessary according to the uni, but she insisted. She said that it would make my visa application stronger, and so I sat the thing.

The Reading and Listening sections were easiest for me; you just filled in words exactly as you read/heard them. Writing was slightly harder, but I think that's a given, since you need to write entire paragraphs. 


The Speaking section was an entirely different matter.


I could go back in time and happily whack myself in the head for the stupidity that I spouted at that Speaking interview. Bear in mind that I didn't take any courses for this exam or anything - I'd just bought myself one of  those IELTS preparation books (utterly useless things, believe me. I think they were meant for kindergartners or serious beginners to the English language). 


After I greeted the examiner, she turned on a little recording device. That completely threw me off. My eyes fixated on it immediately, and I found myself leaning forward a little and trying to speak at the recorder instead of to the examiner at some points. And oh my God, the subject matter of the interview...


I kept my eyes on her face to see how I was doing, but her expressions gave nothing away. She kind of just...smiled, as if to encourage me, through the whole thing. She didn't react to what I was saying. She asked me to describe an event in my life that made me laugh, and I recounted the time that my brother shaved more than half his eyebrows off on each side. I usually have people snorting and hitting their knees with this story. She just kept smiling.


Her final "abstract topic" question was to ask me how I thought humour could be used to benefit international relations. I ask you. I was silent for a good two minutes, racking my brains for anything that could be classified as international, and I kid you not, I just blurted out Obama's name. I can barely remember what on earth I talked about, but I know that I ended the speech with Ellen DeGeneres. 


I was so convinced that I'd failed that stupid IELTS exam, but I actually did pretty well. I scored an 8.0 for the Speaking section (no one was more surprised at that than I was), and got a band score of 8.0, which is pretty high when the maximum is 9.0. I was actually most disappointed with the picture that they used on the Test Report Form - I looked so high, it's not even funny. In my defense, I had to wake up at like 5:00 AM to be there in time for the test.


Anyway.


So I applied for the visa on the 19th, like I said. Shanthi had filed all the documents I needed and handed them to me earlier, so I just had to go in and give that, and have my fingerprints and all taken.


Yesterday, at like 7:00 AM, when all reasonable people are sleeping, my mobile phone rang. The guy on the other end said that he had my passport, and that they'd courier it to me that day itself. Around 11:00 AM, they did arrive with it, and hooray, my visa was here!


So this time, shit's real. I called up Adnan and demanded he buy me a going-away present. I then tried to wheedle the same out of Dad, but he finds it easier to say no to me, having practiced that arcane art all my life.


Mum's easier to handle; I think she's a lot more excited to go shopping than I am, in fact. White I'm thinking about essentials like stylish backpacks, she's thinking about whether or not I should buy bedsheets from here.


Mothers. They really need to get their priorities straightened out.

Structure

So here's the thing. I like rules.

I like knowing what's right to do, and what's not. How to do it. Why I should do it. Rules - whether established for myself or by some higher power - give our lives structure, and they are there for our benefit, no matter what the rebels say.

Another reason I like knowing the rules: I like knowing how far I can go to break them.

Young men know the rules, but old men know the exceptions.

~Oliver Wendell Holmes.

The reason I bring this up is because someone recently pointed out to me that rules stifle them, and they should break free instead of being held down by the constraints of society. That they should be independent, thinking human beings.

I found it very hard to stop rolling my eyes at them, but I managed.

We are at the very last stages of our teenage years, and fast-heading toward our twenties (or at least, that's the demographic I'm assuming for this blog). If you haven't yet learnt that these rules you're speaking about are in place for your own benefit, you are in trouble. 

What rules could you possibly have in mind that are so detrimental to your self?

All rules, I was told vehemently. Curfews, uniforms, age-limits. They restrict our freedom of expression.

Good Lord. 

I pointed out that there are rules they probably don't even realize that they're following, because it's so ingrained in their minds as a part of them. Clothes when you're outside - I haven't seen buck-naked men and women strolling around town (Thank God). Closing your mouth when you chew; do you want to show people your freedom of expression in the freedom of food flying out of your mouth? These are all rules set by society, for a reason.

They also help you realize how you should do something. For example, the rules on how to write and sign-off in an e-mail. Important, depending on the recipient.

Everyone's entitled to their own opinions, of course. Mine, however, is that rules are an integral part of us that help us function as higher, civilized creatures than animals. 

Ja.

Of Tall Women In Heels

When I was younger, my height was a conflicting source of agitation and smugness. I hated being one of the tall girls in class because I had to stay at the back when we lined up height-order, while my best friends chatted up in front. I did love being taller than my brother and cousins and occasional aunt, however. My greatest victory at age eleven was being taller than my mother. 


As I grew older, I started loving my height wholeheartedly. Mostly because we no longer lined up according to any prerequisites, but still. Also, I was a big girl back then, and I thought that the height might not make it seem so obvious.


Last year, I discovered the joy of high heels. This is not to say that I didn't wear heels before - of course not. I've been wearing high heels since I was ten years old; my mother was adamant that I learn to walk in them at a young age. I still remember the cherry-red colour of my very first pair of heeled shoes. They weren't that high, because I was still learning, but my parents took the family out to a nice restaurant, and I strutted around like only a ten-year-old can.


Anyway, just because I knew how to work them didn't mean that I liked it. In fact, my choice of clothing was limited to (WHY, GOD, WHY) Baggy Jeans and Big Tops and Backward-Turned  Baseball Caps. And Sneakers. I'm quite sure I thought I was an African-American rapping goddess or something back then. Or a hip-hop dancer (I couldn't dance for the life of me, FYI).


Last year, when The Change happened, I took a sudden liking to high heels along with everything else. I couldn't go into a store without wandering into and getting (purposely) lost in the shoe-section. And then, miraculously/annoyingly, my shoe-size started shrinking with the rest of me. I swear to you, my feet are now 2 or 3 sizes smaller.


So my favourite pair of nude heels? Yeah, turns out they're a bit big for me now. I'm genuinely upset about this, because I wear those heels with basically everything. They're comfortable, match with almost all my ensembles, and they make my legs look endless. 


Anyway.


Recently, I started noticing my height in the pictures. When I'm with my friends, I don't notice the height difference. When I'm standing next to them in photos, however, I'm towering at about six feet, I think, while they stay somewhere in the 5'5"-5'7" range in their tall shoes too.


I didn't exactly get self-conscious about it, but I wondered: can a tall woman where high-heeled shoes and actually get away with it?


I can. Thankfully, I stopped growing at 5'7", which I think is a nice, ideal height for me. Even if I put on my highest platforms, I'm going to stay around six feet, maybe 6'1", but never taller than that. And with the height of men these days, that doesn't really matter much.


What about the women taller than me, though? Who are 5'11" and 6'1" naturally? Can they wear heels? I've heard that women that tall tend to gravitate toward flats, so that they fit in with the crowd. While I understand why they would want to do that, I also say,


Stand Out!


Sure, maybe you want to fit in with the crowd at the mall or whatever. But if they're headed for a night out with the girls, I see no excuse to NOT wear heels. Be tall and be proud, I say. In fact, wear your heels to the mall too! You deserve to be looked at and admired. High heels naturally change your posture when you wear them, pushing your shoulders back and your bum up, and accentuating those gorgeous curves that women have been blessed with. ALSO makes you look slimmer by making your legs look longer by the way, always a plus.


And truly, I admire tall women. I think tall women that push their shoulders back and walk straight project confidence. Your eyes are naturally drawn to them, so why not make the best of it? 


My mantra: Be comfortable in your own body, and make your body comfortable.

Good Days

Good things have been happening.


In all, three people replied to the messages that I sent out last week. The fourth, I'm pretty sure, doesn't check her facebook that much. But I never had any arguments/issues with her anyway, when we parted almost seven years ago. She's just an old friend that I'd lost touch with, and I'm sure that she'll contact me someday. 


The fifth, I think, may be a case where we won't reconcile. But that's her call, and I'm actually okay with it. Like I said in my last post, I'm glad that I made the effort. I'm a bit sorry about not finding common ground with her after all, but it's not the end of the world. 


Wise words to keep in mind: You can't please everyone.


I'm feeling happier these days.


And I got my unconditional offer from Dundee! I had been worried about it, honestly, but I thought that I should just give it time instead of overreacting. I don't think I'm becoming mellow, exactly. More like I'm calming down. So I waited, and finally got it yesterday. Well, yesterday being Friday. It's past 1:00 a.m Sunday morning right now.


Bruno's at the vet's. Nothing serious, but we thought we'd get him checked up, and the vet wanted to keep him overnight. She picked him up in the evening, and we'll be getting him back in the morning. It's so weird, how used to his presence we are. Mum poked her head in, barely two hours after the vet's driver had come and taken him, asking if we'd seen the dog, and that he's not in his bed. When I reminded her, she kind of got this sad look on her face and went, "Oh."


And he's turning 6 on the 21st! My big baby has grown up so much. Well, physically, anyway. He's still a puppy in mind, with the way he still lunges for his squeaky toys. It's completely adorable. Several times a week I threaten to eat him because he's acting too cute (sarcasm, but he doesn't know that), and he should act more German-Shepherd-y. Not that he listens. He kind of just runs off with the toy, and then turns back to make sure that I'm chasing.


Which I usually am. 


I recently discovered The Hunger Games (don't worry. If you haven't read it, there won't be spoilers in this post). Recently meaning I discovered the books at the beginning of March, and became an avid fan immediately. I wish I'd known about the books sooner, if only because it's that good, but in a way I'm a bit relieved that I discovered it mere weeks before the movie's release...thousands of other fans had been waiting for so much longer. Me, who entered the scene so late in the game, still found the wait interminable, so I can hardly imagine what the older fans had to go through.


I'll recommend the books and movie(s) to anyone, though. Honestly, I was genuinely so very pleased with how the movie had been done. It covered all the main points, and did it so brilliantly. In the books, we've got the benefit of the protagonist narrating everything, which isn't there in the movie. Regardless, the directors/screenwriters have done an excellent job of conveying everything they needed to without words. Again, I cannot stress enough how very impressed I was.


One of the people that I subscribe to on Youtube recommended another book for Hunger Games fans. I took his word for it and went out and bought the entire series, called The Uglies. I've just finished the first book, and I'm quite happy with it. The book follows a girl called Tally, a 15-year-old who will soon be turning 16. And on the day you turn 16, you get an operation (government-sanctioned, completely free) that turns you from an "ugly" into a "pretty". Only things don't exactly go the way they're supposed to, and...well. Read the book. It's good, so far. A bit slow at first (but then, so was THG), but it really starts picking up as you start reading, and you kind of crash to a stop at the edge of a cliff when you get to the end.

THIS is why I buy series all at once. Because I hate not being able to pick up the next book immediately.


Ja ne.

Laying Ghosts To Rest

A couple of days ago, it occurred to me that there were people that I weren't on the best of terms with, but that I still had the temerity to call my friends. Some I hadn't spoken to in years, some, months, and all for different reasons.

I also realized that I would like to be a proper friend. I do remember having arguments with a few, but they were so long ago now that it seems silly to hold a grudge. And I don't even want to have grudges against anyone, truthfully. I wanted to just let go of any animosity, move on, and be happy with my life.

So in my head, I made a list of five people that I should contact and make amends with. The idea to write to them and offer my apologies for anything that went wrong came to me in the middle of the night, so I felt quite blasé about it all. It didn't seem like a big deal to just suck it up and step forward first.

The following morning, though, when I was actually faced with having to write out the words, it didn't seem like that great an idea. I thought, what if I'm just obsessing over these things and they don't even care? Or, why should I have to apologize for things that were both our faults? Or even, in one case, why should I have to be the person to take the first step in this?

They were all excuses, though. I wanted to do this because I wanted to be a better person, and over-analyzing every little thing wasn't likely to help. 

So I did it. I sent out my e-mails/messages to all five of the people, explaining what I thought had gone wrong and saying that I was sorry if there was a sorry to be said.

Two of them have gotten back to me, of the five. And even if the other three never reply, I'm still glad that I made the attempt, and can think of myself as a better person for it.

Most people would choose to forget about it and move on and if you do, that's up to you. I'd encourage facing up to it, though. Honestly, I cannot tell you how very light I feel. 

Getting into contact with five people I thought I should re-establish friendships with was actually one of my resolutions for this year, and it's only March! It'll feel good to tick it off the list. I've printed out the list and put it up on my wall, so hopefully everything'll be done.

Happy End of March, everyone.

I'm Back

I've been gone for a while now, I know.


I couldn't bring myself back here. I did think about it, a couple of times, but ultimately decided against it because not much good was going on, and I didn't want to be depressing on my blog. Today, I kind of kicked myself back into it. Figured I was being depressing by acting depressed about the blog in the first place.


Let's see.


A few weeks ago (2 weeks now, I think), I met with the international officer for the uni. He'd been doing a tour thing of the Middle East. Very nice guy, name of Fahd Ali Asif. To meet him, I had to go through Dundee's representative here in Dubai, which is a firm called IQ Education Consultants. Can I just say, I am EXTREMELY glad that I managed to make this meeting?


I'd been nervous about the whole thing, of course, thinking that it was some sort of informal interview. Might be a bit of a stretch, but I assumed that the debacle of last year led the uni to thinking me mad and sent someone to ensure that they weren't taking on a complete nutter. Wasn't the case, of course, but really, I wasn't in a state of mind that let me think very rationally.


Mum came with me. While in the cab, she asked if she might come in as well, and I expressly forbade it. I didn't want him thinking I needed my mother around me to handle the grown-up talks, of all things. She huffed and settled back into her seat, but acquiesced.


When we reached, I was introduced to a woman called Divya, who was a very nice lady that got me to sign something stating I'd met with Mr. Asif. She also handed me a prospectus for the uni, which was nice. I love those kinds of things; it makes everything seem so much more real.


When she invited me into the room where Mr. Asif was (I had to wait for about a half hour, but I wasn't bored, not with my new prospectus!), I got to my feet and moved toward the door. From behind, I heard her voice say, "Ma'am, you can go in too, if you'd like."


I whipped around as fast as I could, already halfway through protesting, when my mother breezed past me in an elegant sort of fast trot and straight into the room. I have a feeling she was waiting to be asked. Because if that was merely the speed of her reaction, then it is completely unfair that I was not blessed with an equally impressive reaction time. "THINK FAST!" doesn't work on me, and never has. Whatever you throw will hit me, and I will cry about the unfairness of it all.


But I'm going off-topic.


Mum was already shaking hands with Mr. Asif when I entered the room, so I (sighed inwardly and) introduced myself before taking a seat next to her. It was all very pleasant, and not at all interview-like. He was there to answer MY questions, it turned out. Thankfully, that scenario had also occurred to me in my nightmares about this whole meeting, so I had a few questions I could pull out of the back of my mind. Divya sat in as well, and answered a couple of questions I had about the visa part of it all.


Interview over, shake hands again, leave room in an excellent mood (ignoring Mum at this point). I was stopped leaving, though. This is the part where my extreme gratitude to the world comes in.


Divya and a co-worker explained to me that, since I was meeting with a university rep of a uni that they were representing, they could also take on my case completely free. If I'd applied through them to a university that they were not affiliated with, there would have been a fee. Or at least, that's what I'd gathered.


When they told me that this also meant that they would be handling my visa application as well (with a track record of 100% visa-application success), I genuinely felt this massive weight lifted from my shoulders. Having to do it alone last year was a bummer, and them offering to do the very thing I was dreading doing all over again...well. I am relieved.


They also handle my relations with the university, in the sense that I ask them the questions, and they ask the university and then get back to me. Not nice of me, but that's kind of a relief as well, in the sense that I felt I was being a massively royal pain because of the number of e-mails I sent to the university direct. They were always nice enough and prompt with their replies, but that didn't stop me from feeling like I was asking too many questions that should be common sense. So having something akin to a liaison officer is just what I needed.


Divya is handling my case now. She's awesome. I'm starting to expect replies to my e-mails within the hour; she's that prompt.


Anyway.


Outside of that...we went fishing last week. My first time ever. SO fun. I fully intend to go again.


But this post is long enough, so I'll talk about that later.


Ja ne.