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.

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.

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.

A House Is Not A Home? Mine Was.

It's true. I've moved from my long-time house in Mirdif to a new one in Jebel Ali.

The move was actually pretty quick. We decided to move a week before it actually happened. Before that, it was an on-again, off-again sort of decision because we really, really loved our villa in Mirdif. The neighbours were good (by that, I mean that they tolerated Bruno), the area was nice and quiet, and we'd lived there for so long that we knew practically everything around.

They say it's good to get out of your comfort zone, of course, but completely shifting to a new place? I'm pretty sure that's not what they had in mind.

No pictures or videos in this post, I'm afraid. Mostly because the new house hasn't got any internet yet, and I'm currently using the connection at my cousin Yolany's place. I didn't think to bring my video camera or any of that stuff, and all the interesting clips of the houses and the move is on that. So I'll have to post that later.

Anyway, Adnan came over to help me pack my stuff up last Wednesday. I was useless, of course, since I kept pulling stuff out and saying, "Hmm, well, this goes in this pile, and that goes in that pile over there."

And Adnan's sitting among the debris, face-in-palm, shaking his head and telling me that I am, in fact, useless. His greatest contribution was actually sorting the piles out, and screaming at random intervals, "I can make it fit!"

*Snort* That is, dear readers, what she said. *Grin*

Anyway, he helped. I'd kept my door shut so that Mum couldn't see the mess I was making on the floor, and because I didn't want Adnan's screams of making things fit to leave the room. Mum burst in at random intervals, of course, saying stuff like "Shimali, it's so hot in here!" and then pinning me with a look that said, Don't close the door when there are boys in the room, you stupid girl.

That was funny.

And then Adnan and Aehshaan had a weird ninja moment. Aehshaan threw something at Adnan, missed, and Adnan's hand randomly snapped out super fast and grabbed it before it hit anything. It was cooler to look at than currently described, I promise. 

After Adnan left, Aehshaan came into my room, screamed at me for having help and still not being done with the packing, and then proceeded to completely pack my room up. If whatever he wants to do with his life doesn't work out, he could totally become a professional mover-person. Who packs stuff. Is there a job like that? If not, he could be the first!

On Thursday, when we actually had to move stuff to the new place, I found a painting that Hassan had bought from our YEC stall last April and never collected. I called him up, and he came over in the afternoon. While he was over, Mum kind of tricked the poor boy into taking me to Spinneys so that I could get some food and stuff, seeing as Aehshaan and Dad were at the new house making sure that everything was going okay. Poor Hassan agreed, which was really super nice of him. So I went out, got croissants for Mum, Sprite Light for me, and water for the both of us. 

Thing is, that Thursday morning, we had set out to the new house at like 5-something A.M. to do the whole prayer thing. And me, thinking we wouldn't be back to the old house again after that, put all my carry-on stuff in the car, and unloaded it there. 

So when we in fact did return, I didn't have ANYTHING. No Nintendo DS, no laptop, no PILLOW. And no chairs. All the chairs were packed. Most boring day of my life. The most exciting thing I did was yell at the movers for crushing the leaves of one of the plants they were loading into the truck, after Mum specifically told them to be careful with them. I was in such a bad mood, I swear. The only plus side was that Adnan kept calling, so that made time fly for about an hour or so.

Anyway, the new house was a mess when we got there. Yolany, my cousin, came over and helped me unpack and stuff. Yesterday, Friday, my room was ready for me to sleep in. This morning, I was sick of everything being strewn all over the floor, and having to use my parents' toilet because I didn't want to go into mine until it was clean.

So I went in to our bathroom, determined to scrub it till the damned thing shone. And I did. I put up the shower curtain, scrubbed the sink and tub, mopped and swept the floor, wiped down the mirror, the WORKS. And I was so happy when I was done. The bathroom was freaking clean, man. It's a silly thing to be happy about, I know, but after working that hard and seeing the results? Damn. 

Anyway, I've bored you lot enough for now. I'm out.

Peace, yo.