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.

Spark

I am a spark.

Powerless, now.

Will You smother the weak?

Will You stamp out the wavering?

It's fuel.

You’re giving me fuel.

I will grow.

Time will flicker, flash, and my flames shall spread.

They will find You.

You shouldn't have tried to break the kindling.

They are my reason to burn.

They will be my reason to burn You.

The ground will scorch, the air will smolder.

It will be incandescent.

You will be ash.

Not one will find You.

Not one will look.

My fire will linger, dance, wait for another like You.

And I will burn again.

The Bugs. Oh Lord, The Bugs.

The new house is not exactly doing its best to endear itself to me.

Not only have I come across an abnormal number of geckos here, but today, I found a bug on my lamp.

Okay, first thing you should know: I don't kill bugs and lizards and stuff just randomly. I threaten to do it a lot (mostly to the said bugs and lizards, and occasionally to my animal-loving mother). But I'm terrified of actually touching a bug, so getting close enough to kill it is not usually an option. 

I took the dog out earlier tonight. As usual, I let him out the back door. As I waited for him to finish up, I turned back to the house. The door was open, allowing a bit of the air conditioning from inside to reach me - it's really, really humid outside these days. I was going to take step toward it, when I glanced down.

Bug. HUGE bug. On its back, moving its legs madly and trying to flip the right way up again. I am basically trapped outside the house, because no way in HELL am I stepping over that thing. A genuine fear was that it was going to fly up my shorts. It would finally manage to get to its feet and zip right up there in the second it took for me to step over it.

So. Bruno's absolutely no help, because he's still doing his business. Even if I had called his attention to the bug, he'd have done something stupid. Like eat it.

So I walked all the way around the house to the front. Walked up to the doorbell. Rang it. I couldn't yell for anyone to come downstairs from the back door because then the neighbours would hear, and they'd be all, oh, look at that eighteen-year-old girl afraid to go back into her house because of a little bug.

WELL THEY'RE NOT WEARING SHORTS.

So my brother came down to see what was the matter. He came to the back door, bless him, instead of going straight to the front. I think he knows I'm an idiot.

He saw the bug, grabbed the broom, and swept it right out to where I was standing. I screamed (screw the neighbours), leaped onto the bit of wall next to me, and Bruno came running. At least he didn't eat the bug. Didn't even see it, really, just came to see why I was yelling like the massive scaredy-cat I am.

We went inside, and that was that.

And we're back to the bug on my lamp. This entire episode is like I'm living in Sri Lanka again. I love the place, but damn. Too many bugs.

I freaked out, but everyone's sleeping right now. It was past 2 in the morning, see. It's 3 as I write this. I couldn't scream, lest I wake everyone up. Keep in mind, I don't kill bugs lightly. I am terrified of them, and I generally don't like to kill them unless they're sucking my blood, or there's the possibility of them crawling into my ear. In that case, as they say, From God we came, and unto Him we shall return.

Seeing as my lamp is right next to my bed, I find that I am justified in the killing of this one. 

So. Three layers of tissue paper. A silent scream as I grabbed it with the tissue, and the thing you do with your legs where you're all, "OMG EWWWW" in your head. You know, like in the movies. And then a quick dash into the bathroom, and flush.

I'm not even going to get started on the gecko that I happen to know is living in my room.

It Actually Happened.

Summer holidays are finally drawing to a close.


The results of the exams were released two days ago, at 3 a.m. on the 11th. I was a mess the night before; I had a serious case of the shivers, and for hours I felt like I was about to throw up. While the rest of the family dozed, I stayed up until about midnight before deciding that I really should hit the hay. 


Not that I got much sleep, in the end.


I'd set my phone to wake me up at three, and jolted awake when it did. I turned on my computer and headed straight for the results website, simultaneously looking forwards to and dreading what I would see. You know what happened?


The damned website wouldn't load.


It was beyond frustrating. Due to the number of people, all over the world, currently logging into their respective accounts to check their results, I couldn't get through. I checked facebook though, and saw that Bhavesh had gotten his after a lot of refreshing. I hadn't even thought of that. 


So I set about refreshing the page like a mad woman, praying I got through, and then thinking again and praying I didn't. At any rate, after about a half hour of that I managed to get in. 


And I got the grades. *epic grin here*


I squealed and shrieked and leaped out of bed to relay the news to the rest of my family. Mum was already up, preparing for Suhr (we're fasting), so she started jumping up and down in joy as well. Dad was still in bed, so when I went running in there he was quite groggy. Nevertheless, he woke up enough to congratulate me before he burrowed back into the blankets. I didn't bother telling Aehshaan until he had gotten up proper for Suhr - he gets grumpy beyond belief if you disturb his sleep. 


Since I got the grades, it means that I keep my scholarship to the University of Dundee. It means that I'm going to Scotland! I have never been so excited in my life. Or maybe I have, but people tend to believe that a singular point in the present is when they're feeling the most of any extreme emotion, I think.


So now I'm shopping. College shopping. This, I feel, is a vital part of the college experience. Especially if you're a girl. 


I have to get through the boring and tedious stuff, such as filling out visa application forms and buying earplugs and hangers and sheets.


And then there's the excellent stuff that I am enjoying immensely, which is shopping for clothes and shoes and that sort of thing. Better yet is coming home and trying them on with the stuff I already have, and then strutting around the house like a peacock on booze. It's absolutely brilliant. AND I have a legitimate excuse to buy all these new clothes now. Plus I get to wear a trench coat, since Dundee has snow, and I've wanted to wear a trench coat since I saw this chick in France wearing one and looking bloody fantastic.


I think the downside that I'm feeling right now is that I'm only allowed to carry 30 kilos on the plane with me. I've no idea how I'm going to fit everything I need into 30 kilos. Which is why I'm hoping that my parents' visa applications come through, because I can take up their luggage as well. It's not like they'll be staying very long.


And Fresher's Week! How I'm looking forward to Fresher's Week!

I don't know half the people they've shown in the video, but it looks just epic anyway!


And then there's the fact that I'm about to start my University life. Which is just about amazing in itself.


So.


Congratulations to me, for doing much, much better than I ever expected. And congratulations to all of you who got into your respective universities. I love you, and you've done all of us proud. *proud-parent sort of grin* We always knew you could do it.


To reiterate, the summer holidays are finally drawing to a close. But our lives? Well.


They're only just beginning.

This Is What It Means To Be Machangs

When the 26^th of July dawned, it brought with it the promise of adventure. Little did we know how much it would live up to its promise.

We planned the trip to play out in Poronnaruva and Sigiriya over the next two days. Our family spent the previous night at Yolany’s, seeing as we were going to have to leave the house at five o’clock to do the trip, meaning waking up at the ridiculous hour of four.

Yolany and I hadn’t been able to sleep. We fell into the on-and-off sort of state, where we’d jolt awake, stay awake for the next couple of minutes, and then doze back off. It was the excitement-slash-anticipation of the trip, I’m sure. At any rate, I started awake yet again while it was still dark outside. I reached for my glasses and then glanced at the clock hanging by the door of Yolany’s room, but couldn’t see it in the darkness. Mentally groaning, but not wanting to go back to sleep without knowing how much longer I’d have to lie in bed for, I got up and padded to the door.

Thing is there’s a dressing table, with mirror, next to the clock. So when Yolany opened her eyes for what must have been the hundredth time, she didn’t see me trying to squint at the time. No, she thought I was staring at myself in the mirror.

Later, I found out that she had immediately followed this thread of thought:

Oh my God, she’s psychotic. She’s woken up at this ungodly hour to stare at herself in the mirror. She’s going to kill me. How do I get out? She’s right in front of the door. I could run onto the balcony and scream through Yoan’s room for the guys to help me.

“Shimali?”

When she finally worked up the nerve to ask what the hell I was doing, and I told her, she glared at me, told me what had been running through her head (received with much hilarity on my side, considering the time and all), and called me psychotic anyway.

We couldn’t go back to sleep after that. We spent the rest of the night talking about God-knows-what, since we had an hour to kill.

The best part is that when we did get out of bed, rouse the rest of the house, dress and settle in the hallway to wait for the driver, we didn’t leave until 6 o’clock. That’s because Sumedha, our tour-guide-slash-new-awesome-friend, had slept in and consequently ran late. We needled him about that for the next two days, of course.

The next five hours or so was spent travelling to the bungalow that we were renting for the two days.  It was a nice place when we reached. Four rooms, ensuite shower and toilet, beautiful gardens outside, bird trail you could explore, catering staff. All in all, a pretty good place, really.

After we’d run to bag rooms and dump our stuff, we explored the surrounding area. Yolany and I found a field, in which was a dark brown – maybe black, I couldn’t tell – cow. Or possibly bull.

We thought it was a bull, actually, which is why we weren’t brave enough to go pet it or anything. Has anyone watched Song of the South recently? That kid got run over by a bull. Nearly died, too. So. We maintained our distance, taking fail pictures from afar.

Right after lunch we headed off to see the elephants. The jeeps were open, sort of like a truck, only with metal bars that you could hang onto when you stood.

While looking at elephants was interesting, nothing was as phenomenal as the single, lone tusker elephant. They're rare in Sri Lanka, for one thing, and the one we saw had apparently established himself as head of its herd. Also, male elephants are VERY easy to tell apart from the females. Five legs, don't you know. *grin*

The tusker had one hell of a libido, anyway. As we watched in fascinated horror, the thing jumped onto the back of one of the females and...well, copulated. Finished with that one, it wandered around for a bit before doing the same thing to another female. Clearly, polygamy is not an issue for wild elephants. The whole thing took all of under a minute per female. 

My younger cousin, Yomal, kept asking which elephants had five legs. He's twelve, you see. Yolany and I laughed and just left the explanations up to our mothers. Not much we could do.

Yomal's oldest brother, Yoan, was in the other jeep, a bit away of a distance ahead of us. The sad part is that when the tusker did his thing, the entire area could hear Yoan burst out laughing, my brother right behind him. Of course, we were laughing too, but not that loud. Their laughter was proper explosive, to an embarrassing extent. *snort*

Anyway, at one point one of the wild ones decided to chase our jeep. It cried out its trumpet-like cry, swiveled around to face us, and charged. Yolany and I shrieked in delight when our driver took off at once, throwing us back with enough force that we had to grapple to hold the metal edges of the jeep. We were standing, and its difficult to maintain your balance when your twisting around to face the crazy elephant and then turning back to urge the driver faster. The mothers were shrieking with genuine terror, though. 

The elephant slowed down and left us alone once it realized we were faster. It just returned to its herd like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

After that, we continued the elephant watch in relative peace. Our two jeeps decided to race each other to get back to the start, which was shit loads of fun. Thing is, the jeeps had to keep slowing down when we were near any elephants, in order not to startle them into a chase. We thought of the elephants as obstacles, Yolany and I, being so determined to win. 

Imagine, all of us screaming insults at each other as we raced side-by-side, pounding the roof over the driver's head and yelling to go faster, across bumps and dips and getting thrown all over the place, but still wanting more. Racing across the Savannah toward the setting sun, surrounded by wild elephants. Our entire family is more than competitive, so the guys were just as determined as us to make it to the finish before the other.

But tragedy struck. Well, tragedy's too dramatic a word, but whatever. Yolany's mum got thrown and hit her head against one of the jeep's metal ridges, enough that we had to slow down and let the boys go ahead. Yolany and I were disappointed, but nothing we could do, was there?

Luckily, there was a jeep in front of them, so they had to slow down. Ten minutes later, we came across them still on the tail of that jeep, the dirt road being a single carriage thing. We yelled out what had happened, and they looked genuinely troubled. We asked if they could pass us the water we had brought, but that was with them.

Josh stood up with the massive bottle, and I stood up to reach out and get it. The jeep drove off the road and onto the side so that I could get the bottle. I genuinely thought I was trying to get the water. However, Yolany and our jeep had other plans. As I reached out, the driver suddenly floored it, and we jumped ahead of the competition.

What I remember, very clearly, was the look of utter betrayal on Josh's face. Mixed with shock. We laughed about that look for days afterward. I still grin when I think about it.

We won the race. They cried foul, but what could we do? We would have won in the first place if it wasn't for Yolany's mum's head, anyway.

At home, we showered and got into our PJ's, ready for a barbecue. It was nice. Mum kept telling me to play the guitar and sing, but I was too embarrassed to play impromptu in front of people. I pawed it off to Josh and Yoan, neither of whom would sing, although Josh played a bit of Hotel California while Sumedha sang, and Yoan strummed some random stuff.

There were no hard feelings about the race. Everyone was in a great mood, since it had been a great day.

Next day, we went to Sigiriya. I can't be bothered typing it all up. Long story short, we climbed up 1200 steps to get to the top of a mountain that once was the palace of a king. We saw the massive pools where he liked to bathe with his 500 concubines, and we saw some of the original paintings of them that he had, painted right there on the cave walls.

And for the record, 1200 steps is a ridiculous number of steps. The king had to be carried up and down, so he had no problem. But the rest of them? And us? Geez.

We went to Poronnaruva next, which is basically a bunch of ruins from the times of another king. Me, being the awesome rebel that I am *snort*, waited until the tour guide was out of sight before I threw my camera at Yolany and leaped onto a "protected" staircase - barbed wire and all were in front of it, but I edged around it and got the picture, and then jumped back off. No one was the wiser, but I have the picture to prove it.

And conveniently, Yolany left out the barbed wire in the picture.

Anyway, we were tired as hell when we reached home that night. But it was a good trip, with friends and family. 

And, for the record, Machang in Sinhalese means Friend.

Ta.

Random Epiphanies

This is a truly random post. Do not read if you're in the mood for a story. Do, if you just like reading random stuff.


I don't quite remember how I came to think about the subject, but I wondered why black generally represents evil and white represents all things good. 


From my reading of Regency England times, I know that virgins and others who wished to be 
considered 'pure' would wear white to their debutante balls and whatnot, while black was worn for mourning. Angels depicted in the paintings (and truthfully, in our own imagination) have lovely soft white wings and wear white robes, while devils...okay, no, devils don't wear much black, do they? They go for red, but I think that's because of the whole we fight with fire thing.


Anyway, I thought that maybe the reason for this was actually in the colours hidden themselves.


White, for instance, is actually a merging of all the different colours of the rainbow, isn't it? At least, it is from what I remember of my IGCSE Physics days. So maybe white represents goodness because it represents colour? Of all the colours of the rainbow come together as one? That in turn could mean unity, peace, and all that other jazz. I'm clearly not doing a very good job of explaining this little epiphany of mine.


Black, on the other hand, is the result of a lack of light. Of colour. So when you think of black, you think of the fact that it truly is an abyss.


For the record, I don't actually consider people with dark skin-tones black. They are just people who are darkly tanned or whatever. Same goes for the 'white' folks. So do NOT come to me later saying that I'm racist, because I'm not, and I will smack you if you do.


Anyway, this isn't a particularly deep thought, but I wanted to share.


Ja ne.

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.