While i was away…

My mum came into my office to see me on Friday 30/04/2010 (I left Friday afternoon but had taken the Thursday off to pack and make sure that all things like holiday insurance, etc were sorted!). I spoke to her on the Saturday to tell her that I was away – to NO avail! Upon trying to tell her she cut me off telling me that she did not want to hear anything that would make her have a car accident (as she was in the car). so I didn’t tell her…

The first week went by and I called her on the Wednesday as apparently she had come into my office on the Tuesday to give me my early birthday present. I told that although I was thankful that she had gotten me something, that all I had wanted (as I had previously told her) was for her to finally accept my decision and accept Mr A. She responded with her usual reference to satan (aka Mr A) and not accepting him. I got off the phone to her and told Mr A that I had still not told her –  he called me chicken poo and told me that I needed to call her back and just tell her…

I called a few days later – mother’s day evening (from outside Discovery Mall, Bali) and listened to her tell me about her problems, what she needed and what I must do for her when I come over, about her doctor’s appointment in July, about how no one had come to visit her on mother’s day, etc – I cut her off and told her that I could not talk to her for very long as the call would cost a small fortune from Bali and that I WAS calling to wish her a happy mother’s day.

I then had to hear her go on about how she thought I was going to Jakarta – I told that I had said to her that Mr A and I were intending to go to Indonesia, I never stated which part! She then went on (and on) about how Bali is predominantly not Muslim and why would I go to where there are no Muslims? I told her that there were Muslims everywhere; that a lot of Muslims come to Bali – that in fact she used to live there! She commented that thi was before she went for haj and that I should know better – that who knows what food I was eating. I said to her that I think she forgets that I speak nearly fluent Indonesian and that I know exactly what meat we are eating! I told her AGAIN that I had previously already told her to stop coming into my office as it undermines my professionalism and makes me looks bad. I got off the phone feeling terrible, frustrated and annoyed and wanting to take photos of the many Hijabi’s and Arabs I saw and send copies of them all to my mum.

I heard nothing from her on my second week.

I didn’t call her at all…

I returned (to Aussie-land) on Friday afternoon and did not tell her.

I spent all weekend doing my own thing and was blissfully happy at the fact that I did not have one single missed call from her (I normally have her call me often) – that when my phone did ring I wasn’t all anxious or distraught about the imminent guilt trip my mm would dish out to me.

I returned to work on Monday and discover that my mum (after talking to me and finding out that I was in Bali) had come into my office 2 more times; one of which was on Thursday to find out when I was coming back – the guy on reception did not know and told her that he was not sure when I was returning.

The irony is that on Sunday Mr A and I sat on the sofa watching a DVD with him telling me that maybe I should visit my mum – tell her that I’ve come back and that I’m ok. The shocking thing is that even after being away from her and not going to see her since January (aside from the times she has seen in my office) I don’t want to see her. I am not angry with her, not at all. I am just tired of it all… SO beyond tired of the repetitive crap that she keeps giving me; the same comments, the same tears and the same emotional intensity that makes me want to move across the country/change jobs/change my number, etc.

But even in saying/writing the above paragraph there is another part of me that wonders why I haven’t heard from her in about a week. A part of me that says a prayer for her hoping that she is ok and hoping that Allah opens her heart to accepting me as I am and the decisions that I have made. And then there is this part of me that wants to call her – not to have a conversation with her as I know that that is unlikely but rather just to hear her voice (sans lamentations) just to know that she’s ok.

But THEN I am overcome with curiosity and against my better judgement I read the birthday card she gave me. Why do I bother? Sentences not particularly worth mentioning include:

“So sad that someone forgot my birthday last time or not ring me – maybe not allowed to send me anything – I know Satan is very strong in your place”

Numerous references to about me and “latnatallah” (it’s a muslim thing that I cannot really explain)

“what you are doing is a big sin and Allah will teach you a lesson”

Comments about how she will be patient and wait for me to come home as God loves those that are patient

That she is my real mother and cannot believe that I am doing this and why won’t I just come home?

Mum had also included some story about how some friend of mine (when I was 14; she was 17 and had a car) took me out and we went to Fremantle and to the beach and that when we came back home late she was really angry/upset and told me that I was not allowed to talk to her anymore and how now look at her life? How she is still single (as far as mum knows) and that she cannot be happy as she lives away from parents etc.

Really – why do I bother? What else can I do to make this stop? I am really beginning to get tired of this; I am beyond frustrated of all of this… I don’t know what else to do – worst yet is that I am baffled by how she seems to still have this way of getting to me? of making me question what I am doing… and with each word that I read and morosely re-read I feel numb, more empty and more resolute at my not wanting to see her. I just want to keep walking; I want to move – I want her to move.

I tried… whilst I was away I told her that we were thinking of coming back to Indonesia in January; that she could go to Jakarta if she liked… she said that she wanted to go to Jakarta in January as long as I went with her… I told her that if she went then that we would visit her – she said she didn’t care about anyone else and that she just wanted to go with me.

When is enough enough?

So I think this afternoon is it – mum has been back since Sunday and although I haven’t seen her since then I have gotten to the point where I have no idea where else to go to from here.

I drove home from mum’s place and had to have a little stop off at the end of a (and dark) quiet cul-de-sac so I could have a little cry. I don’t even really know how to explain it all – maybe its because I haven’t had to deal with her antics for the last 4 and a bit months, or maybe its because I am PMSing or perhaps its just I have gotten to the end of my tether… but I don’t think I can talk to her anymore.

It just seems so selfish – that I am meant to do things for her, take her to appointments, fill out forms for her, buy things for her, run errands for her and essentially be the husband… AS LONG AS I DON’T talk about what’s happening in my life. Its not even a case where I just don’t mention Mr A; its knowing that I get judged for everything; knowing that everything I could say will be under such intense scrutiny that I just don’t say anything at all… so that at the end of the day our conversations revolve around her and I am baffled that she doesn’t even seem to ask about what is happening in my life?

It’s mum’s birthday on new years eve and Mr A and I discussed that it was seriously about time she acknowledged that we – the 3 of us were a family. And that maybe we could all go out to dinner at a place my mum would like… The Prophet in Victoria Park. Now if I had my way I would just turn up on the evening of said birthday dinner with Mr A in tow and pick up mum and see if there are any explosions and then go from there. But Mr A thought that that wasn’t fair – that I should tell my mum what we are doing.

So today my mum called me and told me that I had to come over before Zumba class and fill in some forms for her. She didn’t ask – she just told me that they needed to be returned tomorrow so she would need to be there sometime tonight. Anyway; since I had her on the phone and I was remembering that I seriously needed to book a table I mentioned her birthday:

Me: Since I have you on the phone mum, I want to talk to you about dinner for your birthday? The 2 of us were thinking we could go to The Prophet? Just the 3 of us?

Mum: I am not talking to you bout this anymore – remember when you talk his name to me at your Aunty’s house? You know I feel down then; because you talk about him I fall down. I don’t want to go anywhere with anyone I’m not agree with. I don’t want to talk about anyone I’m not agreeing with.

Me: You can’t be like this all the time mum – this is mad! We’re a family!

Mum: no – only 2 people in this family; me and you!

Me: mum, I know that me and you are a family; but now he’s part of my family – so he’s part of your family.

Mum: no – we talk abut this when you come fill in the form for me.

Me: fine – and we WILL talk about it mum. I am tired of the way you are acting about this and if you want to be like this after tonight – after we talk about this; then after I fill in the forms I’m not going to talk to you or see you for awhile. I can’t keep doing this mum, I’m serious here.

And that’s it… I guess we’ll see what happens then. But I will say that I mean every word of it… I just don’t see any other option… the irony is the reason that I kept holding onto for SO long was because Mr A kept telling me to go back, keeps telling me to call her, keeps telling me to try again… ironic isn’t it? That she can’t STAND the thought of hearing his name and yet he is the very reason why I keep some pretence of communication with her!

PS> I do NOT think my mum fell based on hearing me mention Mr A’s name – if she had I am certain my aunt would have called to see what on earth I had said to her!

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?


I am sometimes reminded how lucky I am to have Mr A in my life.

I am sometimes reminded how much I may want to slap him across the head for his idiocy sometimes or throw something at him… and then he’ll do something sweet and I will be left baffled, awed and amazed by him!

So what happened you ask?

Last night I’m having dinner with Mr A and his family – we finish dinner with Mr A saying that he’ll clean up (because his mum cooked). I am standing there helping him clear away the dishes when he tells me to sit down and relax and watch some TV.

I normally give my mum a call at about 6ish; letting her know that I’ve finished work, having a chat with her about her day, etc. On a Monday and Thursday my mum is fasting so I will generally call her at 8pm (so she can eat in peace and enjoy her food). So last night I called her at 6pm and her phone went straight to voicemail; which is seriously odd for my mum as she never turns off her phone. I try again every few minutes then again after dinner and then again just before 8pm. Each time I am becoming slightly more anxious (but totally trying to hide it) and each time all I get is her voicemail which tells me that the phone isn’t even on.

I go to see Mr A in the kitchen who is clanging pots and pans as apparently he’s had a little ‘disagreement’ with his mum (I swear those 2 are so similar they are always butting heads!) and is mumbling stuff under his breath – he looks over to me and even though I am pretending everything is totally fine and I am so not worried he takes one look at the smile on my face, looks me in the eyes and says; “what’s wrong?”

Me: nothing.

Mr A: crap! Just tell me what’s wrong…

Me: nothing – I just tried to call mum for the last 2 hours and I can’t get through – its like her phone isn’t even on. It just goes to voicemail.

Mr A:  maybe she switched it off?

Me: she doesn’t know how to; it’s a new phone and she normally never has her phone off.

Mr A: …. Ok (* putting down tea towel as he was drying dishes*); pop your shoes on – lets go.

Me: what? Where?

Mr A: We’ll go for a drive and see if she’s ok; come on.

At this point I am telling him not to worry, that I’m sure she’s fine (although inside I am hoping that she’s fine – it doesn’t help that a week ago my mum was telling me that if she were to pass out or fall in the house no one would know that she would be bleeding to death with no one to help her… I know – melodramatic much?). Mr A is telling me that he is 99.95% sure my mum is totally ok and that there is some logical reason but that he’d rather I would definitely know that be wondering the rest of the evening. So we get into the car and drive over to mums – it’s a 25 minute drive (its not far but it’s not exactly down the road!).

I get to the house and the lights are off; I walk in and she’s not there – I look around the whole house and her handbag’s gone, her mobiles not there and there is a cooked meal on the stove that is cooling (its still warm to touch), her car is there (she doesn’t like to drive at night) and all seems in order – so I leave a note asking mum to call as soon as she gets it. Mr A tells me to see if the house keys are there; they’re not. At this point I’m pretty happy that mum is ok and probably sleeping at a friends house – we drive back; Mr A telling me that I should go to her friends house because at least I would definitely know one way or the other…

So we’re now on the way to her friend’s house (Mr A is telling me that I should get their mobile number in case this sort of thing happens again) – we are less than 2 minutes away when my mum calls!

Me: where are you? I’ve been trying to call you!

Mum: I’m at Dina’s house; I came here after afternoon prayer and didn’t realize that it was already dark and she asked me to stay over…

Me: but I normally call you at 6; didn’t you wonder where I was?

Mum: yes – but then something happen to my phone; maybe battery finished… and I didn’t know what to do.

Me: well you’re phone is working now?

Mum: because Dina’s mum has a Nokia also…

Me: ok… well, me and Mr A drove all the way to the house to see if you were ok.. .he told me that I should check up on you and make sure… I left a note on the kitchen table.

Mum: you came to the house – did Mr A come inside the house?

Me: oh my god – surely that doesn’t matter? Who cares; he knew that I would be worried about you and wanted to come just in case.

Mum: so he didn’t come into house right?

Me: look, you’re ok Alhumdullilah; have a good night and I will see you tomorrow for dinner after work; goodnight, I love you

Mum: I always love you

*I hang up*

Mr A: you looked like you were about to cry talking to her – is she ok?

Me: yeah – I’m ok… she’s ok…

Mr A: what did she sau when you said that I drove you over to check up on her?

Me: nothing – I think she was just surprised that we came over…

I mean what am I meant to say? That she was more curious as to whether I let a man into the house? I know even know why she would care if he was or wasn’t in the house… I mean really… where do I go with this?


I really need to get her overseas so it is one less thing for me to worry about!

What’s an emergency anyway?

My mum called me today at work – she does this every once in awhile; calling on my mobile. While I lived with her I would wait until I got home and then talk to her about the fact that when I am at work I am at work and that she should only call me if it is an emergency. Since I have departed that residence I am trying to show her that though I am not physically there that our relationship will be all the better for it. So when she called me today while I was at lunch I decided to call her back – I mean, it could be something important right?

Me: Sorry I missed your call – what’s up? Is everything ok?

Mum: It was raining really heavily before….

Me: Yeah – it’s raining here too (thinking: well, we are in the same bloody state!)… Is everything ok? (trying to get to a point where I can see if this call is emergency related)

Mum: I was scared because of the big rain – I took aunty XXX home before and now I am at YY’s house… I am fasting today.

Me: So nothing major is happening right? There’s no emergency?

Mum: well, I am scared because of how heavy the rain is and I am fasting today… so come back home tonight so I’m not scared.

Me: mum, I’ve told you that unless it’s an emergency that you can’t just call me over things like this when I am at work… I’ll call you later.

And the frustration continues!

I don’t know why I bother sometimes – I mean really, I should just ignore her calls and then call her later once I have finished work because I will say that NONE of her calls made during work hours have been emergency related! But I live in fear that one of the days I totally ignore her calls there will be an emergency and I really will be the terrible daughter!

So far the rationale behind her calls made to me at work in the last few months (that I can remember) have been because of the following:

“I am bored… what are you doing?” 

“Aunty XX invited me and you to dinner – so after you come home we go to her house…” 

“You think its ok for me to cut my hair next week instead of tomorrow?” (Can I just mention at this point how maddening this question is because she wears a scarf/hijab… no one would even see if she had or had not cut her hair! This line of questioning is redundant!) 

“What time will you finish work today?” (Again this is a lame reason to call – I work Monday to Friday with the exact same working hours every day…)

“… Don’t forget to pay the bill…” (I wish!) 

“you know what happened today? I went for a walk and then -” (I generally will cut her off and ask ‘is this important?’ or ‘can this wait until I get see you tonight?’ in which case she gets all “huffy” and I get off the phone with her!) 

“I went to the shops just before and I bought the wrong thing… do you think I should return it?” 

“I am at the shopping centre and I locked keys in the car – what should I do?” (hmm – call the RAC – that’s why you’ve paid for road-side assistance). When I told her to call them you know what she said? “Can you call them for me because my mobile phone bill is too high and I just called you…” (cue: internal desire to scream) 

There are a few more instances but I cannot remember them at this point… once upon a time I was stupid, naïve, gullible innocent enough to give her my extension number at my previous employment (never again my friends! Consider it lesson learned!) to which I told her to use when there was an emergency and she needed to get in touch with me. Imagine my frustration when to her the emergency was whether or not she should get a fringe or not!!!!

A fringe!!!!

I turned on my most ‘calm before the storm’ tone and asked the following questions with utter seriousness:

Is the house on fire? (She said “no”)

Has the house flooded? (She said “no?”)

Has there been an electric fault? (She said “no”)

Did you leave the stove on or are broken down on the side of the freeway? (She said “no”)

Have we been robbed? (She said “no”)

Have you been arrested? (She said “no!”)

“Then Mum (*speaking firmly*); I love you but this is not an emergency… I will talk to you later!”

*hang up*

Quick funny Mr A moment

Claire (from work) was reading about things about blood type which made me curious about what blood type Mr A is. So I sent him a quick email saying: “hope your day is going well – just wanted to ask what blood type you are?”


His answer?





Where do I go with this?

Motherly Murmurs (Part 8 & 9)

My mum has unknowingly given me carte blanche to do whatever I want without telling her!


On Saturday day I had to get something from Sportsgirl (female clothing chain store) that I intended to wear that night. I told mum that I had to get into there and that I knew what size and what I wanted so it would only take a few minutes & not interfere with the things she wanted me to do. Her response was:

“its ok – if you need we’ll go but if you’re doing something that will kill me… that will be you taking a knife to my heart don’t tell me… if you want to do something just to kill me don’t tell me.”


Well isn’t that wonderful? I can essentially now do whatever I want and just not tell her!


& then the next day:

Mum: remember when you were 13 I met this man & started seeing him? Remember you told me that you didn’t really like him?

Me: um… I guess so…

Mum: well, I ended things with him because I knew that you didn’t like him & because I love you & you are the most important thing to me I did correct thing & ended things with him. Now…. I not happy with Mr A you must do correct thing and end it with him ok?

Me: mum you had only known him for a few months and it was your decision to end it… I didn’t tell you –

Mum: *Walking Away* Just do the correct thing – make your mother happy & give me good news. You must fix problem now… I’m tired of living with you always saying or doing things to hurt me.



I mean really – is it MY fault that she decided to listen to some angst-ridden 13 year old who was a bit of a loner? Really? I mean come on…. meanwhile does she seriously think that I’d break up with him and then suddenly I’d have this splendid relationship with her… as though none of this – all the berating, the put-downs, the toxicity that was there LONG before Mr A would just suddenly not be there? Little does she know that if it wasn’t for Mr A I would have left “home” more than some time ago & maintained contact with her to a required minimum + monthly cash deposits into her account.


Meanwhile she does have a point – the problem does need to be fixed soon.  So what am I doing to fix things? Recommencing the collection of necessary clothing to my car & the slow movement of clothing to Mr A’s parent’s house… I CANNOT take much more of this… plus at least this way I can’t say or do anything to hurt her when I’m not there can I?

A quick FYI – “home”

Sorry for not writing sooner – it’s been a little ‘hectic’… I went back home on Sunday the four days of bliss is over now, back to reality and being unhappy and sucking things up and pretending I am totallllllyyyy happy with the way I just have to ‘shut up and take it because your feelings are clearly what matters’ attitude/situation I have with my mum. Its ok I suppose… for now… I guess we’ll see; I mean, anyone can get used to most tormenting, anguish-ridden behaviour once they have to deal with it on a daily basis… ahhh, acclimatization… us humans are such a resilient bunch! I did try to speak to her a little about it on Sunday once i got back (she didn’t want to talk about it at all which I found odd), personally I dislike having to constantly harp on about something when i feel that the person I am talking to (about an important issue) is either not listening or not able to grasp what I’m saying (with this situation: refusing to listen!). Words and their meaning are so important to me – a person’s comprehension of what I am trying to say is perhaps even more important to me; I think that’s why when I do talk to mum I try to communicate with her in multiple languages and different ways in order to try and ensure she will somehow understand what I am trying to tell her.


So I had told her that she could either like the situation, get along with Mr A and his family (and in turn not feel so alone), and get to know everyone or not say anything at all about it. Nothing! I do not want to hear any bad-mouthing. No, negative comments. This is my decision, her insisted lack of involvement, indifference and silence more than demonstrates her feelings and if she feels alienated then she really has no-one to blame but herself. I have told her that I will invite her to places and would love for her to come, but that if she declines then this is her choice but that this will not stop me from going. I wonder if she realises the bed that she is making for herself?


I spent the day with Mr A yesterday (shopping) and he left his wallet in my handbag (all hail the big handbag that fits all my stuff and his stuff! Although I will say that sometimes it’s a little bit of a black hole in that it holds copious amounts of ‘stuff’ in it!). I called him to let him know (and that I seriously could not be bothered trekking back to his house to give it back that same day) and he said that he would drop past my house in the early evening to pick it up. I felt so bad for him as he really wanted to come in and speak to my mum; have a conversation with her and jut plain get along with her. He really has an issue that she doesn’t like him or won’t give him a chance. I went out to the car (do you see how pathetic this is?) and gave him his wallet and chatted to him – he actually looked like he had been crying. Apparently he was all teary about how he really wants both families to get along. He actually likes my mum and wants to have a positive relationship with her. He actually said that he is worried that our children will grow up not knowing one of their grandparents! I wish I could stop al this – that I could change the way my mum is reacting; that I could somehow convince her to give him a chance. But it’s not going to happen at this point. I just need to let things run their course and that in time she’ll see that he is a good person, does make me happy and will be a good father and good caring son in law!


It’s so sad to contend with – the enormity of his sensitivity and how sad this all makes him; in some strange twisted way the way my mum is behaving to all this and Mr A’s attitude to it all actually makes me love him all the more! The huge regard he has for family., the way my mum indifference affects him, hurts him and makes him worry about our future children makes me fall more in love with him – how lame is that??? Anyway, before he left he told me to send salaam to my mum.


I walked into the house and told mum that Mr A says hi and sends salaam… guess what reaction I got from her? Silence… bloody nothing!


Oh well, I suppose it’s far, far better than her berating, yelling or crying!


See the glass half full I say!

My sappy moment

Before I start this post I must give you some warning… it’s a little sappy! I promise to not let it continue for too long… but seriously, once you get to the end of it you will see that I’m bloody allowed my little bubble of joy!


One day you meet this person… A person that becomes a friend… He makes you laugh and loves seeing you smile. A man who makes you feel all at ease and comfortable with you are and just wants to be around you…


He tells you you’re the most amazing person he’s ever known. Over time he gets to know your flaws, the faults you have that make you cringe when you think that anyone else besides your parents or your best friend might know about. He is dependable, reliable… Kind and gentle – he is exceptional.


He knows when you’re sad even when you’re trying to hide it from him… not because you want to lie to him but because you know he’s got so much to deal with already… and yet he puts all that down to listen to you whinge and moan about stuff that are sometimes completely foreign to him.


You meet this person that makes an evening on the sofa sounds appealing – a man who knows how to make sticky date pudding from scratch and admits to learning how to make it (and the butterscotch sauce) because he knows its your favourite desert. Funny how it’s the lame, dumb things that stick in your mind – like how we’re on our way to a dinner and I’m putting on lip gloss (he’s driving) and he’ll say something about how we’re coming towards a speed hump (and he’ll slow down) so I won’t mess up my gloss!


He’s not the person you ever thought you’d fall for or be with. He’s not the person you ever thought would stick around – would care so much about you, a faith, and a sense of family and family values. He’s not anything you thought were “must have” qualities on your list – to be honest you almost thought you had given up hope (I mean seriously – there are quite a few jackass’s out there!)


Strange how he’s everything you never thought you wanted!

He is so different yet so the same (as you) that you’re in awe of it all…


But you don’t want to be lame and say he completes you but that in actual fact you’re both better people because of one another… to fill each other out… you each have the qualities that the other person doesn’t and you admire each other so much for that. You admire who he is.


So somehow he becomes your best friend… You didn’t even realise it was happening… But there you are… he’s become your best friend… Together you can overcome issues and obstacles – not because he’s superman and you have this idealistic view of him but because he’s a realist – because no matter what, when all is said and done you can communicate – you’re honest and upfront about issues and how to deal with things. You know to not sweat the small stuff; that it’s about the bigger picture.


And then one day, one Saturday night he stands there before you telling you that you mean the world to him… that you’re his little princess and he needs you. He stands there and tells you things without even saying a word. And as I write this I know how lame and terribly sappy this all is but I continue to type anyway.


He tells you that you’re his world, his princess… and that he wants to marry you. he opens this box and you see the ring.


And I look up at him and know that finally its here – that feeling, that moment, that happiness that is contentment. And so I said a little prayer; Ask Allah that this will be easy for us both…


And I say yes.

Because a picture paints a thousand words…

Sometimes I am astounded by myself… not in s sense that I ‘wow’ myself but rather that I am surprised by the intensity that a feeling, thought and action can be carried out. In such silent frustration I plod along – this constant passive-aggressive who dislikes to ‘rock the boat’ unless totally necessary (read: at my wits end!)


Since we’ve been back my mum has been harping on about how my aunt and her son will soon be coming to visit us here in Australia and that because of this the house must be in a constant state of immaculate cleanliness – that the cookies in the cookie jar are to be always full (as my aunt is a big snacker) and that the fridge is to be stocked to capacity as though at any given time we are prepared to feed an army… whatever; I have learnt that it is far, far easier to go along with this part – even though I did tell her that when they come they told me they’d message and call me with their flight details as I was their ride over. The situation then flows on into my bedroom – the constant checking to make sure everything is as she likes it. Don’t get me wrong, I do like a clean room, but every now and then if I am in a rush for work I’m not fazed if I don’t do my bed or there are a few clothes on the bed – it’s no biggie.


But I have noticed something over the last week-ish that at first I thought was odd and now I just think is a little more than annoying, frustrating but somehow comical in its consistency! In my room I have photo of me, Mr A, Susi, and 2 other close friends on my dresser (taken at my last birthday when I just got back from Thailand – I am looking so fresh and relaxed!) – We will call this: ‘Photo A’ there is also another one of me, Susi and another of my close friends which we will call ‘Photo B’. Both photos are not in a frame; it’s clipped into one of those photo clip things so that it juts up. Well, just about every single day (except one) I get home and strangely enough Photo A has fallen (face) down on my dresser. At first I thought it was an accident; that it accidentally fell as my mum walked past, so I’d just pick it up and think nothing of it. After the third day I noticed that this was only happening to Photo A; the photo with Mr A in it… hmm (I thought) – curious and curiouser (forgive me; I’m quoting Alice in Wonderland)! So I started to pay more attention to this photo; every day I would get home and see it face down, fallen on the floor – also face down, laying on my dresser – face down. Surely my room doesn’t have that much wind going through it while I’m not around?????


Then yesterday when I got back home from work I noticed that Photo A was face down on my dresser with my TV remote on top… now, in no way could this be the wind! Finally, I had to be honest with myself and admit that my mum was going into my room (while I was at work or out) for whatever reason and was turning over this photo… I can only think it’s because of Mr A as mum has not done anything to the other photo (Photo B). Plus if we work on the concept of probability (being that the wind had merely ‘tipped’ the photo over) then there would also be the same amount of probability that Photo B would have fallen over as they are both the same weight and are placed in the same location in the same manner. No… I can only come to one conclusion: that this was intentionally done by my mum (there is only one other person in my house besides me: my mum)!


So, because I haven’t wanted to cause a probable argument I have quiet – silently wondering what was happening… saying nothing. Yesterday; after the remote control ‘situation’ I decided that enough was enough…


I got my camera out and headed out to Officeworks (it’s an office supply store near my house that also does photo prints) and did some printing… of photos.


Of quite a few photos’….


In total about 8 photos’….


Photo’s of me…. and Mr A


So I went home… gave mum the photos of our trip (as she had said that she wanted a copy of the pics taken + the CD it was on) and then went into my room… 

I framed the pics that I had printed!


All of them! Including the one that kept ‘falling over’ on my dresser!


I left the house this morning daring all those photos’s to ‘suddenly’ fall off my wall… face down of course!

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