Plumber Price Check… love it!

You gotta love ethnic parents – its almost as though their thought process is different to ours; sometimes i just think that its because they don’t have a mental ‘censor’ in their mind so what they think just comes straight outta mouth. I wonder how this censor gets “deactiviated”? Does it happens as they go through customs when they arrive to either Australia, America or wherever they decide to live outside the “mother-land” – where as they pass though the metal detactor it must remove it from their consciousness or somehing… who knows! Or maybe its just that they are more willing or don’t care what others think & therefore just speak the thoughts that we would LIKE to say but are too scared don’t?

Last weekend when i visited m mum she had the most annoyingly dripping tap – she mentioned that had a few other “water” related issues and i suggested that she call a plumber- not THAT day, as it was a Sunday but to call on monday morning and organise for someone to come. I obviously then was the person who had to find said plumber, call said plumber and ascetaain Sunday call outs versus Monday call outs and then give her all details PLUS write them down and then confirm with her (many times during that day) that she was to call back on Monday morning and arrange the booking as the would not let me make a booking that day (i have no idea why!).

Said plumber came on Monday and set about resolving all the issues that that mum presented him with. After being there for 40 minutes mum was satisfied and he wrote out a bill for mum… when mum was telling me all this; all things seem relatively normal at this point… and then it went a little “haywire”….

The bill said: “1 hr, $178”

My mum said to the plumber “this wrong – you are here only 40 minutes!”

He told my mum that he charged in half hour blocks and that when you exceed the half hour block then charge you the full hour… whilst i may not agree with this rationale it DID make some sense so i continued listening to mum….

“Then the man he said – you have something else for me to fix? i can have a look?”

Obviously this guy was thinking “ooohhh, if i start looking at something else now i may ‘clock’ past the next haf hour block!” BUT this man CLEARLY had no idea what he was up against!

Mum thought of the things she wanted to get done in the house and said to the plumber “yes – you use hammer and put these 2 frames on the wall for me AND change battery in my smoke alarm!”

The plumber (i assume aghast at my mum’s request) said – and i am QUOTING what my mum said to he had told her:

“Lady, I’m a PLUMBERNOT a handyman!”

My mum’s reply was even MORE golden: “you want one hour money – you do one hour work!”

I could not help but laugh at what mum had said – i actually asked her what happened next – she said that even though he mumbled & grumbled about it she just ignored him and he actually did it!

Just as i thought it could not get any funnier – mum gave him $180 where the plumer started collecting his things… and then mum said – “excuse me – my change please?” mum said he was obviously annoyed about this notion of having to give her $2 and said to her that he only had a $5 note… not to be dissuaded though, mum persisted with “you charge funny price – not $175 or $180 – i wait for you to find my change!”

By this point i was seriously ENTHRALLED by mum’s morning and asked “so – what happened?”

“He went to his van and went looking for $2 i guess – he took a long time. i saw out the window that he was sitting in his van for while… i not know why. but then he come back and gave me the $2 in small coins!”

I asked if she said anything – or if he said anything… she said she told him “take so long to look for $2 – lucky i not charge you!” and then commented about how criminal it is that a plumber charges MORE than a doctor when she KNOWS that plumbers don’t go to uni!


Haha – why do i get the feeling that this guy is NOT going to want to fix stuff at mum’s place in future?

I mean really, let’s think about a non-ethnic parent doing this? i CANNOT imagine it happening…. ahhh – ethnic parents!


Oh how things (unknowingly) change…

This afternoon Mr A took a candid photo of me getting ready in the bathroom – it was purely him being a tool and not something i want the blogsphere to see. BUT in saying that, i scarily noticed the “slight” shift in what was on my bathroom table.

I – like most girls like to look my best. I (as a rule) do like some luxuries – some, not many – just a few to make me fell a lil special and let Mr A feel like his with a lil princess… without being high maintenance. I love MOR’s body butter – i am completely and utterly devoted to their Pomegranate line and insist that NO OTHER BRAND DOES IT BETTER! Every other day i apply the MOR butter on my entire body – i alternate between that and Nivea Q10 Body lotion (simply because i like it – yes, i may have been suckered into the marketing about Q10 but it is grossly cheaper than the MOR body butter). I cleanse (with Garnier Pure – i have oily skin), tone (with Lush tea-tree mist) and moisturise (Olay Special Effects – i mean they DO say that it fights the 7 seven sign of aging – who am i to argue with these statistics??) twice a day. I include a primer (because it is a crime NOT to prime) into my morning repotire (Model Co/Rimmel – I alternate) and bless the person that came up with powder mineral foundation! On nights out i ‘luxe’ it up a bit and use Bourjois’ Mousse Matte mineral liquid foundation….

And then things slowly started to change… In the search of trying to find make-up that would keep my shiny face NOT being shiny without having to touch up every other hour I scoured the web and makeup artists I knew to see what they recommended. I trawled websites for hours and reviews from to, Bubblegarm and ever so simply Googling “great photography make-up”. My quest led me to try and locate online stores that sold these products so that I could do it all at the touch of my fingertips – I went into Myers and David Jones on the hunt for new products – I was so ardent in my search that I am still unabated until I am certain that I have found the perfect combination that WILL render me speechless… as well as flawlessly oily-less.

And this is what I noticed… I am now no longer a mid-range gal.

Priceline was my one stop shop – it was my fortnightly essential location… now, whilst there is still a strong desire to go there regularly I notice I am racking up less points… First it was the discovery of MAC’s Prep & Prime… SOOOO much better than the Model Co and the Rimmel – alas those 2 sit now in the back of the drawer. Then came the end of the little pot of MAC Matte Gel which they gave me to sample… I begrudgingly had to admit defeat and proclaim that I DID like it… and had to buy said tube. Next was my change from Olay Special Effects moisturizer to Clinique’s Dramatically Different Moisturizing Gel – my heart both soared and plummeted as it mattifed my face to pure perfection and required only ONE touch up at the end of my work day!!!! And then today came MAC’s Studio Fix… with the quiet intention of me returning to the MAC counter next week to get the matching liquid foundation! I forgot to mention that I am secretly hoping to try MAC’s “Mineralize” Oh the shame of it all… that THIS is what I have become now… That whilst I lament at the additional costs that i KNOW that this will create i am inspired by the sheer awesomeness of said products! That even as i type this i am wondering when i will next be able to steal a moment and try Smashbox’s Photo Finish Light as i hear it is fantastic for photos!

The oh so WORRYING thing is that when I mentioned to Mr A how much MORE this up keep would cost I thought he would tell me that I was dreaming; that this would be a ‘one-off’ and that post wedding party my skin and bauty regime would return to my once coveted L’Oreal but no – the guy LOVES it… I cannot believe how strange he is!

For the ladies out there – what is your makeup splurge?

PS I “forgot” to mention that i am slowly (but surely) overhauling my makeup brushes – meaning i have purchased a newer better Kabuki brush and am now aquiring more brushes than you can throw a brush at! Hehe

Mr A Gets Promoted!

At First I didn’t actually see it this way – a promotion. It took Susi and I chatting about the situation and chuckling of at the madness of it all to realise that it is, indeed some kind of a promotion i guess!

Remember how aaaagggeeesss ago i mentioned how a male family member came to Perth to visit? Remember how I mentioned how mum has high hopes for said guy and then all hopes were dashed when both people’s personalities conflicted? Well; when he left Australia he had left some of his luggage here and had asked that we send it back to him. “We” became ‘MY’ job and my mum cut all sort of responsibility on grounds that since they had had an argument that clearly the responsibility would be mine. And so (yet again) i sucked it up and dealt with it.

I told him that I would more than happy to send his (22kg of) luggage once he had transferred me some money – I mean, didn’t get me wrong here; I have no problems sending 1, 2, 5, or even up to 10kg worth of luggage but aft3er a few quick quotes online I discovered that sending 22kg worth of luggage was hardly cheap… plus i have a house to pay for (does anyone realise that porcelain slab tiles are NOT cheap?)

So after nearly a YEAR later – yes, nearly a year the guy transfers me some money – far be it for me to tell him that since the start of financial year that the cost of sending said items would be increased. Whatever; I was just happy to have it off my hands (and not have to hear anymore about it from my mum… again and again… and again!).

Everything was organised through Discount Excess Luggage – yes it is some shameless advertising but the man was really great (for more details head to and the prices were really competitive! The plan was that he would pick up said item from my mum’s place; weigh item, call me and I would give him my credit card details. What actually happened was that he went to pick up said item and mum would not take any of the paperwork from him?

The poor guy had no idea what to do – i spoke to my mum later and apparently the rationale in her mind was that as NONE of it was her responsibility that she would not take ANY of the paperwork. That this man HAD to give me the paperwork – she told the poor guy where i worked and said that he should drop it off to me!

When the guy (his name was Laurie by the way) said “you can give it to your daughter when you see her” apparently she said a few things – mum told me that she had told him that i do not always come home and that sometimes i sleep at my friends house!


When I told her that she KNEW that I most definitely was not staying with a “friend” and that I am staying with my in-laws and my husband she went onto say “no – I tell him you sometimes stay with your friend; what for I make bad my daughter’s name? I not want to tell him that you won’t come home to see your mother”

I mean let’s just be serious here for a second – as IF the Caucasian man is seriously caring what I do with my life and where I am living! I mean – WHO would he gossip this ‘vital’ tid-bit of information to??? If anything, her behaviour has probably made him go “yep, I’d be living with my friend too sweetie!!!”

Anyway; although at first I was a little frustrated, annoyed and flabbergasted by her incessant denial Susi and I realised that in some twisted way she had finally acknowledged Mr A’s existence as being something more than (how she affectionately refers to him as) ‘Satan’.

And it only took us this long!

Another 3 years and he’ll be my boyfriend/fiancé!

Personal space & me

I grew up with my  mum pretty much always in my face – I wasn’t allowed to have the bathroom door shut, my bedroom door shut and I still have to answer when my mum calls and I am in the toilet. I can honestly say that personally I have NO personal space! That being said, I understand that most other people out there DO have some semblance of personal space – I am NOT one of ‘those’ people that completely disregard another person’s need to have some level of distance between myself and them.

When I was working in retail I remember having to deal with the ‘close talker’ – you know, the person who seems to get closer and closer with every word they say to a point that we are but inches from each other and I can almost SEE what they’ve had for lunch? As much as I stood there astounded at this person I am pretty much not fazed – whatever; don’t care! Because in reality lets face it, its not like their they are standing there having a conversation with me whilst I am in the shower completely wet and naked (*ahem* my mother!).

So, I don’t mind the hugs, the ‘sitting so close to me you may as well be on me’ situations when all us girls are trying to fit on a sofa and I have seriously not met more than half of them. When it comes to shopping having little personal space is actually beneficial – I am unfazed by the pokes, prods and shuffling to get an item at 70% off – I am undeterred in having to get changed in one room with a handful of other girls when buying Sass & Bide jeans at their sample sales – heck; we all got the same stuff! I am more than ok with it – maybe it’s a Arabic in me; where we grow up with our families knowing pretty much every aspect of our lives – and making up the rest! Or maybe its because of the way mum brought me up where pretty much I had to instil my own boundaries (read: privacy) that involved many a war and FINALLY being able to have my door closed at night at the tender age of 26 (with many a promise that I was NOT doing anything haraam behind closed doors!). Or maybe it’s because I am approachable (this is what I am told) so people need to “approach” – actually there’s a thought; if I had more personal space would I be less approachable? Have I become approachable because I have little personal space?

But there are some things I don’t get; I went out last night with Mr A and a few of his friends with their ‘significant others’ – I know most of them so its pretty much ‘whatever’ – but one of the girls there was pretty new to the group; in fact this was the first time I was meeting her; so after the preliminary questions (like, what do you do, where do you work and how was your day) she mentions that she missed her long hair as she had (days ago) cut it (think the Posh Spice bob) – I actually rather liked her hair and told her so… and then she comments on how much she looovvveeess my hair – and proceeds to run her fingers through my curls!!

Really? Really? I have JUST met you… and though I must admit that by the end of the evening I thought her a lovely gal I was still a little “um – excuse me, do you mind?” about the hair thing… now I gotta admit that although I will lament that my curly hair is annoying to look after in that it does have a mind of its own we (my hair and I) have come to a mutual respect for each other; I will treat it with love and affectionately purchase sweet smelling and curl friendly products (that are NOT friendly with my bank balance) and in turn my hair will repay me with pretty long ringlet curls of lovely definition… *sigh*

I am not fazed to share the products I use in my hair – in fact I have actually had other curly haired girls ask me what i use – I am more than happy to share… and if I have known you for more than half an hour I am more than happy to have you stroke and caress my hair – but seriously, give me 5 minutes at least!

Mum’s trip = my holiday

I’ve planned mum’s trip and told her the details… and gotten into an argument with her about what I will be doing whilst she is away.

Apparently I am not meant to do anything that will kill her; when I asked her to explain what she was talking about she said that I am not stupid and that I know what would kill her.

Then in the same conversation she tells me about this lady she had made friends with who apparently has a good looking son and that this lady thought my photo looked lovely and that they should set us up… what the??? I told mum that I was not interested in getting ‘set up’ as I already have a fiancé and that I didn’t remember reading that women were allowed to have 4 husbands (otherwise I would be more than happy to oblige her!). Well – as you can imagine that little joke went down like a lead balloon!

I told mum that whatever decision I was making and intended to make in the very not too distant future that I hope to do so before Ramadan and that contrary to her belief she was not dying (although in saying that aren’t we all essentially dying?) and that she would not be having a heart attack.

I told her that her going overseas was NOT me wanting to do ‘stuff’ behind her back but rather that I was tired of her going on (and on and on and on and on and ON) about being lonely and that she had no-one and that the house was scary because it was quiet and that she would die alone because I wasn’t there, that when I was growing p she never left me alone and now she could not believe what I was doing, etc. so that essentially sending her OS worked on numerous levels:

A) She won’t be alone (as there will always be someone at my uncles place; he has 4 young children + his wife, my aunt is currently there; my cousin and his 6 kids + wife are coming to visit from Doha (Qatar) and that failing all those people there is the maid)

B) She will be insanely close to the mosque so she can come and go as she pleases

C) She will be close to her friends and family

D) She will be far enough away from me that I will actually miss her enough to want to look after her and make sure she’s ok

E) I will not have her giving me 15 missed calls to tell me something really ‘important’ when really it’s not that important as clearly I was not in a car accident that you saw in the news because the accident happened at 12.30pm and I would have been at work (the other details included that the accident happened over east and I am in Western Australia and that none of the cars involved were red or my make/model type!)

F) That I will not feel guilty during the month of Ramadan that my mum will be having sahur (eating before sunrise) and footoor (opening fast just after sunset) by herself as I must admit that when I think about it I do feel terrible about that!

G) When Eid rolls around I will be comfortable in going to the mosque with Mr A as apparently my mum did not want him to come with us (although now she is taking it back saying that she said no such thing and that if Mr A wanted to go to the mosque he has a car to drive himself and that why would he be going to the same mosque as both of us when there are other mosques available to him?).

Hmm – I wonder what she’ll be thinking/saying/screaming/crying when I tell her about me heading off to Melbourne?

Just call me stupid!

On Friday Mr A and I went shopping; we were looking for jeans for him and I had mentioned that Guess had 50% off a few of their styles.

After finally finding a pair of jeans for him we had a little more of a wander and went into David Jones and had a littler peruse of the handbag department. I showed him this cute Juicy Couture bag that was $725 (obviously Australian Dollar) and told him that he should be grateful that I don’t ask him to buy it for me… and then he spots this gorgeous orange leather DKNY bag that I must admit I find myself drawn to…

Mr A: Isn’t this one nice?

Me: Ooohhh – that’s pretty…. *walking over and now holding it in my hands*

Mr A: you should get it – I like it

Me: *Looking at the price tag* I do really like it…. nah, its ok sweetie; its $575… we can use that money on something else when we’re in Melbourne.

Mr A: Are you sure?

Me: Yeah, that’s fine; come on, lets get some dinner…

It is now Monday and I am now wondering if I am a BIG idiot for saying no to not only a new handbag but a DKNY one at that!

I saw it again today when I was cutting through David Jones – the damn thing looked as though it was sniggering at me… telling me that I nearly had it… I cannot believe that I actually think I like it more now than on Friday night!

What do you think? Idiot or not

The (not so) single, (not so) white female

About the possible single white female… I have spent the weekend somewhat frustrated (execpt for Sunday) at how I feel about this ‘situation’. In all honesty I have had a few other “things” happen over the course of the weekend that probably haven’t helped the situation so I don’t quite know if perhaps I am being a little bit of a bitch!

This girl that I know – nay; that I am more than good friends with has done a few things that; on their own don’t actually account to much. In essence, a few of them combined don’t actually upset or frustrate me but ALL together there is something about this last ‘occurrence’ that doesn’t quite sit right…. And I have no idea why – call it gut instinct but SOMETHING is odd about this picture:

So there’s this girl right? And I’ve known her for agggeeesss! And although there was a 3 year gap where we didn’t talk or anything I still knew what was happening in her life (she was with her ex husband then and I was friends with her brother – her husband told her she was not allowed to have any non-married friends… apparently something about them/us single gals would ‘ruin’ their relationship! But that’s a whole other story!) Then when she and her hubby separated we bumped into each other (what can I say – Perth is small) and got to chatting… we swapped numbers and got pretty close. When Susi was holidaying it up in El Salvador (you know, eating beans and taco’s and wearing a sombrero while dancing the salsa, sipping on corona and trafficking Mexicans across the boarder…  – hehe) me and this chick saw HEAPS of each other.

Now, besides the common ground of (at that time) being single, being Muslim (and having gone to the same school) and being friends the 2 of us share a many number of other similarities:

We have similar sounding names that rhyme – we once went to a comedy act where the comedian asked random people in the room what they’re name was and what they did for employment. When he asked my name and then her name and that we both work for government agencies (different departments though) the comedian instantly quipped; “And then some material just writes itself!”

We both have similar facial features – we’ve gone out and people have mistaken us for sisters, cousins… you catch the drift. We both have olive skin, dark hair, same body types (although she’s taller) and similar styles in clothing. Often we have realised that we’ve bought the same thing or that I buy something and that she owns the same thing in another colou

I could go on (as there are a few others) with the similarities but seriously I cannot be bothered. What I will say is that in the last few months things have gotten a little ‘odd’ to say the least.

This guy that has been infatuated with her for years (who she has admitted to ‘jerking’ around and the way he is always at her ‘beck & call’) has suddenly ‘caught her eye’. Very odd when he is not her type at all completely her type – her type of man is either rich, tall and good looking, buff and a white-boy babe… or all of the above! I remember telling her that what she needed was a nice man; a decent guy who cared – not to be someone’s trophy as they wouldn’t appreciate her nor for her to have merely a hunky younger trophy (without much substance) because then she won’t appreciate him… suddenly this guy seemed like the one to be with.

And I helped her ‘get him’ – copious amounts of relationship advice was dished out. She analysed everything to the point of my frustration. She would say “I just want to be where you and Mr A are at now” to which I would say that getting to this point hardly happened overnight! She’d ask ‘what should i do if he says XX?’ or ‘what happens if he says YY?’ She’d call me whenever she needed help with an issue (which i had no problem with – i am more than happy to help my friends!), a conversation dissected, etc but if I called her it would go to her message bank first and then when I got the call back eventually she would have been busy with ‘her man’ or something.

So here are the abbreviated situations that have occurred:

A)    I asked her for help in relation to finding an imam for my Nikah (as all the ones I know also know my mum) – well she found one and promptly got her nikah organised and then completely forgot to get me the details – it took ages for me to get it! Oh and she completely forgot to talk to him about what i wanted!

B)     Oh – did I mention that her man is also a convert and that essentially they’ve been ‘together’ a total of about 4ish months????

C)     I told her details about the price of my dress for my nikah (when it actually happens; I got it from overseas) and conveniently hers (had to) cost more

D)    I mentioned that when I change my car (I was thinking about doing it soon) that I wanted to get a Mazda3 – well well, she now drives a Mazda 3

E)    She asked to borrow a few clothes from me – I had to drop it off to her work and it took about 6 months before I got it back – I had to ask and ask and ask – and even then I was requested to do so at her convenience and that she couldn’t do it any other time. I finally got a dress back (did I mention that I leant her 3 items but only got back 1?) which she claimed to have never worn (I don’t car even if she did) but when I took it out of the bag it seriously reeked of her perfume – seriously; it was like she’d doused the dress in her fragrance (why would you do that if you hadn’t of worn it?)! I was going to wear it on Friday night and had even popped it on (after a spin in the washer and dryer) – I didn’t even end up wearing the dress because Mr A was like “you smell like her… I don’t want you to wear that dress!”

F)     She keeps claiming that she and her man want to take Mr A and I out for dinner and each time I see her or hear from her she will lament that I am too busy to see her BUT she has never attempted to organise said elusive dinner.

But even those things on their own don’t bother me… she has told me (almost incessantly) that she admires my relationship with Mr A and how she loves the way he is with me and how much she lovesmy ring and how come her man hasn’t gotten her a ring yet when they’ve already had their nikah? And how she doesn’t know what to do because she NEEDS a ring and should she just buy the ring herself and then get him to pay her back (when she told me this I nearly dropped my phone in the sheer shock that she would even think this is an option)! She has asked HEAPS of questions about how much Mr A would have spent on my ring and what is the ‘bare minimum’ she will wear on her finger as she can’t believe that some people only spent $1500 on an engagement ring (I told her that a ring is, at the end of the day, just a ring! Would she rather be with an asshole who got her a nice gorgeous ring or a decent guy who adored her with an ‘average’ size/style ring?)

So on Friday I go to her work to pick up my dress; she’s all apologetic at how she’s an ‘terrible’ friend because I did drop it off to her and was so accommodating to her when she needed my clothes and that she was sorry. Then she asks if I want to see the ring that he had finally gotten her. She asks me if I like it.

I am BEYOND floored!

I do not know if I should laugh at the lunacy of it all or keep silent.

I am at odds with what I am feeling…

She asks me if I like it – if I think it’s pretty? I tell her I think it’s beautiful! And it is!

And why wouldn’t I?


My only solace is that my diamonds have more carats – but I can’t say anything about that without looking like a complete bitch! So I smile when she tells me that her’s are 2 carats (internally trying to calm myself). I can’t resist and tell her that of course I like it – it looks so much like mine! She tells me that her man did such a good job at designing the ring and picked out all the diamonds (wait a minute – that’s what I told her Mr A did… that he had helped design it and picked out all the diamonds with the jeweller; he actually did do that because I remember him taking half a day off and I wondered why he wasn’t at work and his dad would not tell me). She told me that it’s not the same at all as her band is slightly thicker and her outside setting and middle diamond setting are actually ‘stuck’ together like a bezel cut. I looked at her with that “who the frig are you kidding” look on my face and actually told her that Mr A should sue her man for breach of copyright! I mean he saw it before he bought her hers – what on earth is he thinking?

Listen – its not that I care if someone has a similar ring as me. Seriously – if Susi wanted a similar engagement ring one day I wouldn’t flinch – its all the other stuff coupled with this… it’s the fact that we both travel in the same circles – that people will look at my ring and think that I’m replicating HER ring. That she’s with a convert and I’m with a convert and that her ring and my ring look the same and that since she’s older I MUST be trying to be like her. 

I am actually amazed at how annoyed, hurt and dismayed I am at her behaviour.

Am I wrong?

Hmm – its all a little strange….

My mum is asking for copies of my passport photos – am I afraid? Not really – am I curious at what sort of mayhem she has planned? Perhaps!


My mum went out yesterday with all the “auntie’s” as Mondays are their weekly gossip session, competition over who can cook the best/most food Quran session. Now I have not really been to any of these sessions but I have heard my mum talk about them and although there appears to be some discussions about religion, Quran and translation and implementation of a verse it does appear that A LOT of the following occurs:

Eating…. Copious amounts of eating – my mum has never come home empty handed from these gatherings!


Talking about their married children – thus making my mum more resolute to annihilate my engagement with Mr A and get me some other more my-mother-appropriate type!


Talking about how bad those who don’t wear a hijab are – therefore making my mum come home and go on and on and on at me that I must wear one


Talk about the state of the west and how terribly ‘open’ everything is and how It is ruining their children and that she should go back to the home country – making my mum more resolute to get me over for hajj, wearing a hijab and thus moving me back to the ‘old’ country (where things are all apparently pure and clean – yeah right!)


Talking about one’s ailments – making each woman more obsessed about their spurs, spurts of arthritis, hay fever and benign cysts – therefore making my mum CERTAIN that her time is nigh and that I should be more mindful that she is going to die soon and that I am killing her.


Anyway – my mum went there yesterday and came home with food and now is going on about my passport photos and how lucky I am that I have dual citizenship because it’s easy for us to move back… huh? What? When we move back?


Hahahahahahahahahaha – yeah right… because THAT’S going to happen! Good luck her trying to organise that!


I have a feeling though that this is what she’s trying to do – as on some nights she’ll get a call at some obscure times and she’ll be rather intense about needing to “do what’s right” and that “she knows what she’s doing” and “no matter what we need to organise this soon”. It all seems like one big plot to arrange something devious as on the occasions I’ve gotten up and walked passed her room she’s either gone all silent and asked me why I’m up for or tell whoever it is she needs to get off the phone!


Very strange indeed!


Anyway – I told her that I have no idea where my passport photos are and asked what on earth she needed for… she went all elusive and angry and said that “she just needed them” and that she was disappointed that I showed little regard to something so important…


Hmmm… very strange!

Don’t forget to pay the bills…

Denise sent me this rather cute story today: I like it so much that I am sharing it with you all!


dragon slayer and snakes

dragon slayer and snakes

Once upon a time lived a beautiful Queen with large breasts.

Nick the Dragon Slayer obsessed over the Queen for this very reason.

He knew that the penalty for his desire would be death should he even try to touch them… but he had to try.

One day Nick revealed his secret desire to his colleague, Horatio the Physician; the King’s chief doctor.


Horatio thought about this & said that he could arrange for Nick to more than satisfy his desire, but it would cost him 1000 gold coins to arrange it! Without pause Nick readily agreed to the scheme.

The next day, Horatio made a batch of itching powder & poured a little bit into the Queen’s bra while she bathed. Soon after she dressed, the itching commenced & grew intense.


Upon being summoned to the Royal Chambers to address this incident, Horatio informed the King & Queen that only a ‘special’ saliva, if applied for four hours, would cure this type of itch, & that tests had shown that only the saliva of Nick would work as the antidote to cure the itch.


The King; eager to help his Queen, quickly summoned Nick to their chambers.


Horatio then slipped Nick the antidote for the itching powder, which he put into his mouth, & for the next four hours, Nick worked passionately on the Queen’s large & magnificent breasts.


The Queen’s itching was eventually relieved & Nick left satisfied & hailed as a hero.


Upon returning to his chamber, Nick found Horatio demanding his payment of 1,000 gold coins.


With his obsession now satisfied, Nick couldn’t have cared less &, knowing that Horatio could never report this matter to the King, told him to get lost.


The next day, Horatio slipped a massive dose of the same itching powder into the King’s underwear.


The King immediately summoned Nick.

The moral of the story…………



Pay your bills.


The Beginning of 2009…

Welcome to 2009 people! I hope and trust you all had a wonderful time ringing in the New Year! Mine was FANTASTIC because of a few things:

v I got to share New Years Eve with so many people I love and care about

v It wasn’t sickeningly hot but warm enough for me to get in the pool!

v I have a wonderful man who made an awesome dinner for me and the girls to enjoy!

v I relaxed in the knowledge that the next day would have me taking mum to the airport!!!!!


YES people – you read right! My mum has taken a leave of absence for the next three weeks to seek sympathy from family members and tell them all what a terrible, terrible child I am!


Woo-hoo!! Never in all my nights of heading out have I been so excited to get home early-ish with the knowledge that within a few hours I would be taking mum to the airport!


I sat with her for a while having coffee (tea for her, as she doesn’t drink coffee) and actually taking about a few things. Apparently she has assured me that me and Mr A will DEFINATELY not work. That I am acting impulsively and that she is still not happy with this situation nor will she be. I told her that as her daughter I am as stubborn as she is – that I know what I want and that he is a wonderful, kind person who comes from a warm and loving family who really like and care about me. Mum said I was being selfish and not thinking of her or my unborn children and their futures and that when she was raising me I was her primary concern, that she put me before anything else. Apparently now that I am an adult my role is to put her at the forefront of my priorities. I told her that her actions have provided me with a great example of how a parent should be with their young children but although I do love her and will always ensure she has what she needs in life, (but) that she is not my child.  Mum went onto explain that marriages with converts do not work and that she had a million examples where it all goes to shit… then like a merciful gift from heaven the lady she talked to while checking in walked over to us (an Indonesian lady) and introduced us to her teenage kids and her husband… a convert! Alhumdulillah – mum was at a loss for words for a minute until she said “well, it only works for a small few…”




I was then told that during her hiatus I was not to tell Mr A that she had left the country (yeah, ok… because that’ll happen!) to which point I told her that “I was not going to lie or hide things from my fiancé” (at which she was not very happy to hear to hear, but such is life I’m afraid!)…


So this is the current situation – I have a few thoughts running about in my head as clearly my mum is betting on the fact that I will (as I have always done) give into her whims and annul my engagement with Mr A and just plonk myself into a marriage that will make my mother so jubilant but me so painstakingly dead inside that I will be all to happy to have the end of my days fast approach…


Blah blah blah – I waved her goodbye, hugged and kissed her and told her to have a safe flight and that I would talk to her soon.


I left the airport to go see Mr A!


All in all it was a lovely day!


3 weeks of silent bliss, peace and quiet – here I come!


Sad that I am really excited to clean the house now that she’s away!

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