Thursday, 26 May 2011

Coloured Hair, Ripped Jeans, and Creepy Perverts.

I love my Nana.

last summer, i had my hair streaked blue. I would have liked all blue hair but i didn't have the guts. but now i'm SO glad i didn't. Because in order to do that, the woman had to bleach my hair cuz it wouldn't show on dark hair.
What i didn't know, was that the blue would eventually fade.
it started to become green,and i was okay with that, but then it started to fade even more and now its yellow- like hay. it's horrible, and it makes my hair look really dry too.

But now my hair's grown a bit so it's mostly only at the ends.
i just pretend like it's not there, until someone points it out to me. Yes, i KNOW my hair is blonde, and i KNOW it looks bad, thank you for telling me.
one of my friends keeps telling me to dye it back to brown, but if i'm going to dye it again, its not going to be a boring colour like brown, i'm gonna dye it light blue, or green, or purple.

Another one of my friends has also taken to calling me Blondie. -.-

For some reason, my nana didn't notice my blondeness until a couple of days ago. Maybe he forgot about the blue hair?

I was just sitting next to him and he suddenly exclaims

"what happened? your hair is white! buddhi ho gayi ho!"
"yes,nana, don't you remember? its been this way for a year almost!"
"nahin nahin, yeh kaisay hua? "

He was so surprised at my hair, he went on about it for an hour approximately. it was quite funny.
funnier than it sounds written here.

I want to dye the tips of my hair light blue now. (yes, i know i just don't learn, but this way i can chop it off if it starts to fade)

my jeans are all really old, and starting to rip at the knees. I DON"T DO IT ON PURPOSE.

I really need to go to Zainab Market to buy some new jeans.

so today i wore one of my many old, ripped pairs of jeans and went to nana nani's house.
as soon as i sat, nana noticed the jeans.

"I don't know why your generation doesn't care about looking proper. you know I was watching a drama, and the hero was wearing phatti purani jeans. Aur main tou sirf soch raha tha kay why is the hero dressed like a beggar on the street? In my zamana, everybody wore shirt-and-trousers. there was no such thing as jeans, even. I have never worn a single pair of jeans in my life. Aaj kal tou I see these boys on motorcycles wearing phatti hui jeans and t-shirts with writing on the front and on the back!
main tou kehta hoon kay acha zamana tou gaya"

he made me promise never to wear those jeans again.

i couldn't tell him that people actually buy ripped jeans on purpose. i just couldn't.

I love my nana.

Something else happened recently.

i was reading someone's blog, and my khala asked me what i was doing. I told her i was reading someone's blog.
she asked me if i knew this person, and i said no.
then she asked if i spoke to her. I said i left comments sometimes.
she got really freaked out.
she said that this blogger was probably an old man, and that many people fell into this trap, and i shouldn't ever comment even though i didn't use my own name, because there is now advanced technology that could help people find me through the computer and that it was gravely dangerous.
i tried to tell her no one would make up a whole life, and that there's no way a 59 year old man could sound like a 17 year old girl.
She didn't listen, and insisted that this blogger was not a girl but someone trying to trap me, despite the blogger having a zillion followers,

I should keep my mouth shut sometimes.
I never got around to telling her that I write a blog, though. I feel slightly guilty now.

but because I usually always listen to my elders (whattay good little girl i am), i still ask you, if it is possible if you could in someway prove that you are not a creepy internet pervert, like him:

but you would tell me if you were, right?

Tuesday, 24 May 2011


Since the second grade, I have worn glasses.
The first pair that I ever wore were pink, plastic, round owl type ones, with a green and black string thingy attached to wear around my neck.
I look so funny in those pictures.

Last summer, I got contacts. it is difficult to get contacts for my type of eye defect, so america say lainay paray.
very excited, I was.
I started to wear them every day.

I go to a different school than i did last year, so most of the new people i'm friends with had not ever seen me in glasses.

now during the exams, when i have only slept 4 hours the previous night, and i'm all stressed that I don't remember the formula for finding the grating spacing in a diffraction experiment, the last thing i want to do is shove a little piece of plastic into my eyes, especially when they're only half open anyway.

when i reached the exam venue, i immediately went up to one of my old friends.
she looked at me and started laughing.

me: kya hai?
her: hahaha.. nothing.. its just.. hahaaha... i haven't seen you..hahahah.. wear glasses in SO LONG. HAHAHA
me: err..

then a new friend:

" Oh my God, you wear glasses? you look like such a NERD!"

another friend:

"they make you look smart. HAHAHA."


" Dude, take your glasses off, please, your eyes look SO huge in them. You look so weird.'

yet another:

" You look so funny! like a funny looking cartoon character" 
Why, thank you, I've always wanted to look like a funny looking cartoon character.

one more:

"hmm.. i think they make you look smarter.. more mature."
I've never in my life, EVER been called mature.

the general reaction from the others was either laughing, or telling me what a nerd i looked like, or both.
and then there was the small minority of friends who didn't comment.

Is there really SUCH a drastic change with a single piece of eye wear?

Did I really look that awful the rest of my life, then?

Maybe i should stick to my contacts, i don't like suits.

Monday, 23 May 2011

My Blog Is Carbon Neutral!

Because I got a tree planted for it!

This one marvelous tree of mine will erase my blog's carbon foot print for 50 years. That means I can blog without worrying about the environment until I'm almost 68!

I feel like I'm actually doing something good for the world, like Captain Planet.

They were the awesomest.

I hope my tree will grow up to one of those huge ones with the vines and the leaves drooping down, and it's huge roots growing out of the ground, like the one in Pocahontas.
And climbable, too. 
that's my ideal tree.

Tree Hugging

Sunday, 15 May 2011

Existential Ice-cream.

I have a math exam tomorrow. Mechanics. I am pretty good at it, only my last couple of exams went so bad I may have developed a phobia of exam rooms.

The first math exam I had, I was like pfft this'll be EASYY and i left home all happy. Only, when i reached the door, I had a bad feeling. I din't want to go in, but eventually a friend managed to shove me in  convince me.
then i found out that I was sitting in the very back of the class. this was not a good omen, either. I hate sitting at the back. cuz it's harder to see, and when I can't see properly, for some reason, i feel like i can't hear properly either, and this this giant comes and sits in front of me. I do not appreciate tall people sitting in front of me. i know it's not a movie or anything, but I don't like my vision being any more restricted than it already is.
AND, the invigilator was mean.

Mean old people are intimidating.

and then , i saw the paper and i thought, wow, this is easy. but by the time i got to question 8, i had very little time left, and the rest of them were DIFFICULT. i must have gotten around 20 marks wrong :(

And then, for my psych exam, I actually had a GOOD feeling, and i sat in the middle of the class, and the invigilator was nice and the paper was easy-ish. but i got so happy that i completely relaxed and I didn't finish the paper.

I was depressed for a while after that. I hope tomorrow won't be as bad.

I think I'm in the middle of an existential crisis. 
I would rant more about it here, about how depressed I am, and how i'm completely worthless, but i just had a giant conversation with a friend about it and feel slightly better, although it's still not letting me study as much as i ought, but then again, i might just be blaming my own laziness on something else.

I really want to see a psychiatrist. a proper one, like an old man with a white beard. 
but when i told my mum, she laughed, and my dad said okay, but he didn't really mean it. or if he did, he's not gonna find me one.
I think i'm gonna have to do the research myself. 

Sometimes, I pretend that i'm talking to a psychiatrist, (called Doug) and i just say whatever to him. it actually helps you feel better.
"Am I mad?"
"Yes. But i'll tell you a secret. All the best people are."

In other, less sad news,
the funniest thing happened today. It actually made me stop being so sad, I laughed so hard.

my dad came in holding a pair of my pants, and asked me if they were mine.
"yep. why?"
"they were in my cupboard, and I wore them."
"wait, you wore them?"
"haan, i thought they were mine. I was wondering why they were so tight all of a sudden"
"they fit you?"
"not really. they were very tight. I wondered how I had grown so fat all of a sudden"

In my dad's defense, those pants are Very baggy for me, and I have to use a belt to stop them falling down to my knees. But my father is also very very thin.
Dats ma Dad.

I hate going to the park on Sundays. There's WAY too many people. I hate people.
But I went today anyway, to walk. I hadn't in a while.

you know what I love about walking? The music. Once I put in those ear phones, I drown out everything else, and just listen to the music. it's so peaceful.

This is my current favourite. I love the beginning music, I wouldn't mind listening to JUST that for the entirity of the song, but the rest of the song is really good too.

This is my soon to be obsession. i just heard it a couple of hours ago and i love it. The girl singing it is only 14! she's amazing. I prefer this cover to the original.

And this is the song I was obsessed with before:

Alsoo, I love this one. I makes me happy:

Why can't I ever find a pair of matching socks?

I watched Toy Story 3 yesterday! Finally.
It was Brilliant. Wonderful. Amazing. Fantastic. Good, even.
I laughed, and I laughed, and I screamed when the fuzzy pink bear came,( I don't like fuzzy pink things) and I screamed some more at the scary bits (Yes, I'm a chicken.). And then, at the very end, I cried and I cried. I couldn't help myself, it was just so sad.
I ignored my sister telling me I should be sent to a mental institution. Just because she's got the emotional range of Ronald Weasley. (even though i do love him).

A teaspoon

Today, I ate a whole half  tub ice-cream. I only stopped because my sister exclaimed. I hadn't even noticed I had eaten so much.

Rickshaw quote of the day:

"Pappu Yaar Tang Na Ker!"

Wednesday, 11 May 2011

Jogging Aglets.

Did you know the little plastic bit at the end of your shoelace is called an aglet?
I learnt that from being forced to watch Phineas and Ferb by my sister.
I hate that show.
These two.

But Isn't she too old to be watching it? she's about to be 14. If she has to watch cartoons, why can't she watch the GOOD ones, like the Dexter's Laborotory, Captain Planet, Looney Tunes or The Finstones?
(Not The Jetsons, I've always hated that show, although i thought is was funny that it always came on right after the Flinstones.

I love my shoes. No, not the fancy high heeled kind. I mean my joggers. They're Puma and slightly worn down but I love them. For some reason, I don't have much luck with fancy shoes. Even if they are flats.
I think I wear them wrong. (is it possible to wear fancy slippers wrong?) Mine always break. or something bad happens to them. So I always wear flipflops or sneakers. 
Once, a relatively new friend of mine who didnt know of my nice-shoe curse looked down at my feet and asked me when my birthday was.
"September, why?"
"Cuz you're always wearing rubber kay chappal. I'll buy you nice shoes for your birthday."
"Ha. don't bother. they'll just die."

I like my Bata chappals the best cuz they're the comfiest.

My converse and my Puma shoes are second best, because it feels nice to let your toes feel free.

My Puma shoes and I have been through a lot together. For the past year (I think?) I've been trying to go powerwalk almost everyday. 
I'm a pretty good power walker. I can power walk with the best of them. Okay, that's a lie, but that's only because I'm so much shorter than everybody else. if they were as short as me, I would SO beat them.

Jogging, however, is a completely different story. like 1984 and Hansel and Gretel.

Jogging is torture. 

Last summer, i went to America to visit my cousins, who said that they wake up early in the morning to power-walk. I decided to go with them. That path was gorgeous. scenic, with a bazillion trees everywhere. Nothing like that in Karachi. i was JELL-US. next to my house there's a teeny little park thats a bit over 200m in circumference, which is the walking area. there's bigger parks elsewhere but they're far from my abode.
I shouldn't be complaining though, we didn't even have the tiny little park a few years ago.
I digress.

So my cousins power-walked and I power-walked alongside them, even though they are (obviously) taller than me. Then, to my horror, and dismay, they started JOGGING. 
It couldn't be a shard as I was making it out to be, i scolded my self, and so i decided to attempt this jogging thing, too. 
About half a minute into it:
"I can't breathe! need.. water. I'm gonna die. pleaseee stooppp!"
I really wished that this applied then.

Passerbys stared, and my cousins, being the loving family that they are, told me to stop the dramay and went on ahead of me. I had to sit down.

And that's why I've been so apprehensive of jogging.

My family and I are going on a hiking trip this summer, to some place in the northern areas. It's supposed to be a really difficult hike and i'm really excited for it, too. I decided about a month ago, that i need to build up my stamina, because a couple of rounds of power-walking doesn't really equivilate (is that a word?) to a couple of days of hiking.

So i decided to start -- wait for it-- Jogging.

Everyday for a few weeks i put it off, saying I would start jogging the next day, but then a couple of days ago, i decided to just start. It couldn't possibly be as worse as i was imagining it. It was all just over dramatized in my head.
So, after much drama and deliberation in my head, I began.

first 10 seconds:  this isn't so bad. i knew I was making a big deal out of nothing.

15 seconds: uhh.. are my ankles aupposed to hurt?

20 seconds: I can feel my insides being jostled around

25 seconds: It BURNSS! 

35 seconds: Intense stitch in side.

40 seconds: i can feel my lungs constricting.

45 seconds: Can't breathheee. *gasping for air*

50 seconds: intense pain under ribcage. whats under the rib cage? OhmyGod! my lungs! my lungs are collapsing!

55 seconds: over dramatized painful jogging. Can't.. Do.. Any.. More.

60 seconds: stop.  laboured breathing.

next 2 minutes:  walking another round slowly, huffing and puffing more than the big bad wolf.. Old man over-takes me.

how I look after jogging.

My goal is to be able to do five minutes a jogging continuously.

Rickshaw quote of the day:

" Sawari labbay na labbay, Speed aik so nabbay (190)"

Saturday, 7 May 2011

Minutes I could have used saving a gorgeous man from a burning building.

Vice Versa

Is your name on Blogger your name in real life? If not, what letter does your real name start with?
My name on blogger is my name in my head. My real head. I have many lives.I am a superior breed of a hippopotamus, with nine cat-like lives.  Which life do you mean? Many people call me many things. The name my parents call me, however, starts with an M. I wish  it started with a K. Or an A.

Astrological sign?
I don't like my astrological sign. I wanted to be a Leo. RAWR.

If there was a huge 'Blogspot Get-Together' where all bloggers were meant to come together and meet in real-life, would you go?
I would. How awesome it would be to meet people and match them to the faces in my head. I would probably have second thoughts about going as soon as I get to the door, but i would eventually go in.

Have you ever rejected someone?
I have rejected a mosquito trying to suck my blood. Several, actually. stupid wannabe bats.

If so, was it harshly?
Is squishing them into oblivion considered harsh?

Did they cry?
Do mosquitoes have tear ducts? Even if they did, they wouldn't have had the time to.

Have you ever tried a cigarette?
Once, I had a dream, that I was a rabbit, and I smoked a lettuce leaf.

Have you ever been high? If so, on what?
Coke. No, not the drug coke. CocaCola. Lots and lots of bottles of CocaCola.

What are six things you find attractive in the opposite gender?
1. Funnyness
3. a nice smile
4. good grammar. 
5. ability to laugh at himself
6. a little bit of weirdness

What are five things you find extremely unattractive in the opposite gender?
1. pPlxx hU wRiT3 lIk3 dIxZ.
2. pot bellies
3. The inability to take a joke. Or to laugh at a  lame one. Or to make a joke.
4. uptight, stuck up snobs.
5. people like him :
(although he did manage to make me laugh till my lungs ached for the whole 30 seconds of the video I actually managed to watch)
6. excessive muscles
7. tight t-shirts
8. floppy hair, although, I must admit, this works on some  (VERY few) people.
I know this is more than five, but if you subtract 3, then it's not.

Answer only if you have a sibling: If your sibling wasn't your sibling, do you think you'd ever find him/her attractive and go out with him/her?
I'm not a lesbian, so I don't think this question applies to me either.

Would you ever eat a caterpillar?
I would eat the ones that look like lots of tiny green MnMs. 

If yes, why?
'Cuz MnMs rock.

If no, why?
Because a balloon is not the antonym of a baboon. Nor is it the synonym.

Would you rather kiss a random stranger on the street of the opposite gender or tickle a random stranger on the street of the opposite gender?
I'd rather not touch a random stranger on the street at all. they could be carrying around mistletoe and be infested with Nargles.

Would you rather throw up on stage or fart on stage?
I have stage fright. thanks for that.

Would you ever sneak out of the house at night?
No. It's dangerous to do that here. Plus, I can't (legally) drive yet.

Do you think this survey was weird?
No. In order to be weird, it has to be awesome. This wasn't awesome.

Did you find it enjoyable?
No. and I have now officially wasted more time than I can afford to. 

Which five bloggers will you be tagging to take this survey as well?
I don't have time for tagging. I also don't know enough people on here to do this.
I be going now.

Monday, 2 May 2011

The Ice-cream/ Kulfi Conundrum

I can't eat ice cream after dinner. I don't know why, but i cant.
My sister, how ever, is obsessed with ice ream after dinner.

I love ice cream before dinner, but for some reason, no one allows that.

My family and I went out for dinner on Sunday. (Nandos. It rocks)
After dinner, I was pretty darn full, considering I had overeaten as usual, but my sister decided she just HAD to have ice cream. 

My parents consented to her request, and decided to buy her some form the nearest place, which was some random little corner shop right next to the road. My sister ordered ice cream right away, and naturally, when i saw it, i wanted some. I apprehensive, though, and i decided to taste it first. I asked to try the chocolate one (because, lets face it, its the best flavour there is) and took the tiny plastic spoon with the frozen (supposed-to-be) deliciousness on it from the man. 

I ate it. And winced. Because it did not taste like ice cream at all. It tasted like kulfi. and when you're expecting ice cream, getting kulfi in it's stead does not taste good. Especially if you don't even like kulfi in the first place. And it didn't even taste like chocolate flavoured kulfi. Just regular old kulfi.

Needless to say, I didn't buy any. But my sister, in her ice cream obsessed state, had already bought it, and was forcing herself to take more than a couple of licks.
(yes, I am a bit of a sadist when it comes to my sister, but in my defense, she was shoving a box of French fries under my nose the other day, telling me I couldn't have any because I finished my own. Mean.)

Anyway, after I finished that awful bit of non-icecream, i was faced with another dilemma. Where do I throw the tiny plastic spoon? I looked high and low, but i didnt see a trash can anywhere. In the end I went back to the fake ice cream shop keeper and asked him if he had a trash can. He nodded in confirmatin and took the tiny plastic spoon from my hand.
Then he THREW IT ON THE ROAD. In front of me. He didn't even own a trash can. He throws all his trash on the side of the road. 
This was my facial expression -->  :O
What is wrong with people? And then they complain about the litter and the pollution.

Later, I saw a rickshaw with this written n the back of it:

" Horn itsni zor say nahin bajao. Hamari qaum so rahi hai"

(Don't blow your horn so loudly. Our nation is sleeping.)

Sometimes I think it's the rickshaw drivers that have the most sense.