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.

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.