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.

Ying, Yang & Medication

I had an early night last night after popping some Demezin night-time capsules and some vitamins (Mr A is all about natural medication) and I had the deepest sleep. It’s really one more piece of evidence to demonstrate that we are each other’s ying and yang; I am the person who believes that if you’re sick you take medication – have the flu? Go take some flu meds and get an early night! Have a headache? Go pop 2 Neurofen or Advil and let’s see how you feel in half an hour! If you’re unwell I believe that you still have to eat – regardless of how much you don’t have an appetite for food… On the flipside Mr A will think that Echinacea will help rid you of your flu and drinking lots of fluid and a rest will cure your headache! Thankfully he understands that meds are not evil and is more than happy for me to marry pharmaceutical meds with vitamins! He hates to eat when he’s sick but is (more than) fine to take meds once an hour or so has lapsed and the natural alternatives have not done anything to alleviate his ailments!

So last night before my early night I had 5 vitamins, some herbal ‘stuff’ + night-time old & flu tablets and lots of water!

I called my mum and said goodnight – she didn’t recognise my voice because I sounded so different!

I was in bed about 8ish (pm obviously)….

I slept like a log! It was SUCH a deep sleep!

I awoke with my body feeling a good 30 to 40 years older… intense aches and pains… and sluggish…


No locked nose!

No watery eyes!

No sore, heavy head!

A hot shower later and the 2 daytime cold & flu tablets + the vitamins and I was all good to go…

To work!

Oh well!

Quickie rant:

What is annoying me at this very millisecond: Being asked to do something that should only take 10 minutes but then discovering that there is some MAJOR errors that need to be remedied so that 45 minutes later I am still here… working on something that should have essentially been a quick win!


Do I HAVE to finish work today?

My plan tonight was to have a glorious dinner that I was actually seriously excited to make:

Think chopped chicken breast fillets (chopped into strips then coated in a hot, spicy bread crumb mixture that is then fried so it’s all crispy on the outside)

Then making a yummy pasta sauce with part fresh tomatoes part tinned tomatoes, a little pesto and a glorious heap of pecorino cheese, a handful of pine nuts (hhhmmm… pine nuts), some basil and spinach leaves then toss in some cooked angel hair pasta (I have a thing for angel hair pasta) and the cooked crispy chicken strips… hmmm – delicious!


BUT alas this is not to be!


I get a missed call from my mum and am having to take her to her friend’s house as another friend (confused yet?) has invited us all for dinner. This woman (whom I shall have to call Aunty) Eva has never met me but is a friend of the family apparently. She had spent the evening at my mum’s house on Saturday night when I was out (playing nurse for Mr A) where the following conversation took place due to her (Aunty Eva) perusing the photo’s mum has on the fridge



There are 4 photo’s of me on the fridge that mum has put up. One is a photo of my graduation and the others are of me about to go to a wedding (wearing a hijab/scarf), in Doha with family (wearing hijab and abaaya) and on the way to the mosque for Eid (again, wearing Hijab).


Aunty Eva: Masha – Allah you’re daughter looks so sweet…

My mum: thank you… but when you meet her you will be very disappointed. SO disappointed…

Aunty Eva: Why? Did something happen to her?

My mum: you will be so sad and disappointed because she does not wear hijab.


I have no idea what her (Aunty Eva’s) answer was – I am near certain that she does not care – and that if she did her thoughts would not be about her being ‘disappointed’. Seriously – I think what my mum wanted to say is: I am disappointed and ashamed that my daughter does not wear a hijab!


It is right on the tip of my tongue to say that since it is so hard to see me every single day be such a disappointment I am willing to move out!


So apparently this is what I am contending with tonight.


My enforced objectives for the evening are:

Drive mum to said location (I don’t know where it is as yet – mum simply said it “sounded far away”)

Silently smile & nod at all relevant moments

Briefly outline in the most prestigious way my job so my mum can then be proud of her offspring.

Eat and complement the food.

Do NOT mention Mr A under ANY circumstances.  

Smile & say “amiin” when one of the aunty’s says “insha-Allah you marry soon to good man your mum likes”


As per usual I will suck it up and silently sit there and say nothing. I am but the driver of course…


Suddenly I get the strange feeling like I want to stay at work… ALL night!

Me & Murphy – we ain’t friends!

I don’t like Murphy…. Murphy and his stupid, lame, idiotic, frustrating laws that seem to rear its ugly head at the most inopportune of moments!


Like my mobile that died 3 days after Mr A upgraded his and I said that I would not be upgrading mine because I wanted actually really like my phone (it had the best camera – seriously; it made everyone look great!)


Like the fact that before Mr A popped the question there was not a single decent Muslim Arab man around who didn’t turn out to be a complete tool/jackass/user in disguise but now that I am off the market and have a reserved sticker on my forehead (not yet Sold my pretty’s!!!) they’re bloody breaking down my door, bumping into me in the streets, sending me tickets to overseas locations to prove their sincerity, incessantly calling me, having their mothers call my mum who tells them that I am single and they should try their luck and ask me to marry them(grrr)… all this to prove to me that in some ways we are to the angels as reality TV is to us here on earth (therefore comical, interesting, intriguing and sometimes horrific)!


The irony is not lost on me.


Isheeta’s comment to simply “flush” is definitely at the forefront of my mind.


Why couldn’t they have just stayed in the woodwork??


Yesterday on the way to my car (while I was on the phone to Susi) I heard my name being called out – I knew it was an Arab because he had pronounced it right. On this I have to point out something: I love how my name sounds when its pronounced right – not in that “I’m white and am trying to take the piss out of your name” way or the “I’m trying to impress you but have only seemed to over-emphasise the ‘ahh’ part in your name”. Nay; there is something within me, my being, my subconscious that reverberates, sings, reaches out to the sound of the way my name is said in the right way.


Anyway; I look back telling Susi I’ll buzz her back later and am astounded to see Mr Syria in front of me… here are the quick stats: tall, sandy brown hair, white shirt against his tan skin, suit with tie (drroooollll – what is it about a man in a suit?), sweet smile that shows a degree of shyness, he takes off his sunglasses to reveal his GREEN eyes… *sigh* my god this family has good genes (his sister is stunning).


I used to know this guy back my days of retail – when I was working for a Telco (telecommunications company) he would come in and chat to me about mobile phones and our respective families. I met his mum; I then discovered that I actually knew his sister (bloody small world and the fact that most Arabs know other Arabs who then know and introduce you to other Arabs!)… He seemed sweet, kind and nice and studying electrical engineering…


So there I am standing in front of him and obviously we’ve both ascertained that we work in the business district now and that he’s in this 3rd year as an electrical engineer for a major disciplinary (his 2 years away from being an intermediate engineer! All that engineering talk clearly stuck in my brain!) I tell him that I work for the government and point out my building. I was actually in a major rush to catch up with Zara so had to jet – he was like “let’s have lunch sometime?” I gotta admit that I was thinking ‘ah-huh, whatever; you got my number ages ago and the only time you used it was when you wanted to make sure I was at work to upgrade your phone so whatever…’ I gave him my mobile and walked away.


I kid you not – 2 minutes later I get a message: hey, this is Mr Syria – it was great seeing you just then – lets do lunch next Tuesday insha-Allah?


I hesitate on my reply and leave it for a lil bit and then realise that I am clearly being waaayyyy rude and should be at least cordial! I mean he has always been friendly and I am working on the assumption that we are friends. I respond with: lunch sounds nice – just let me know when you’re available.


10 seconds later I receive a response: fantastic! It’s a tentative yes then in case either of us gets held up at work. Have you been to tiger lil’s before?


*Tiger Lil’s is a swanky little bar and restaurant in Perth – very ‘now’ the place has this funky Asian fusion feel to it. it is where the pretty people go, where the well dress congregate on a Saturday night and the office staff cluster for after work Friday drinks (plus there is generally rather yummy eye candy there: Mr A does not like me going there without him so me thinks that he concurs with the yummy eye-candy*


Me half an hour later: yeah, been there a few times – great after work atmosphere.

Him 30 seconds later: yeah- a few of my friends and I are going there Friday night and then staying til 12am


Hehe – gosh men are funny! He’s telling me about a bar and restaurant to show me his part of that crowd – to show he’s not this lil shy guy anymore and that he likes to enjoy himself. That he likes that atmosphere and is clearly under the assumption that I like that crowd also…


Alas it is but too late my dear… I await for his sister to tell him in the next day or so that I am engaged. Failing that I will tell him if he calls…


Bloody Murphy…

Looking for a new job in 2009?

I got this great email from Deb (at work) that I just had to post… to anyone who is wanting to have kids?

Job Description for a Parent.


Mom, Mommy, Mama, Mum, Ma
Dad, Daddy, Dada, Pa, Pop


Long term, team players needed, for challenging permanent work

in an often chaotic environment.

Candidates must possess excellent communication & organizational skills

Be willing to work variable hours;

which will include evenings & weekends

Frequent 24 hour shifts on call.

Some overnight travel required, including trips to
primitive camping sites on rainy weekends

& endless sports tournaments in far away cities!

Travel expenses not reimbursed.

Extensive courier duties also required.


The rest of your life.

Must be willing to be hated…

at least temporarily… until someone needs $5.

Must be willing to bite tongue repeatedly.

Must also possess the physical stamina of a pack mule
& be able to go from zero to 60 mph in three seconds flat
in case, (this time) the screams from the backyard

are not someone just crying wolf.

Must be willing to face stimulating technical challenges;
such as small gadget repair, mysteriously sluggish toilets
& stuck zippers.

Must screen phone calls, maintain calendars &
coordinate production of multiple homework projects.

Must have ability to plan & organize social gatherings
for clients of all ages & mental outlooks.

Must be willing to be indispensable one minute & an embarrassment the next

Must handle assembly & product safety testing of a
half million cheap, plastic toys & battery operated devices

Must always hope for the best but be prepared for the worst

Must assume final, complete accountability for the quality of the end product


Responsibilities also include floor maintenance &
janitorial work throughout the facility.

Possibility for Advancement & Promotion:

Your job is to remain in the same position for years, without complaining; 

Constantly retraining & updating your skills,
so that those in your charge can ultimately surpass you

Previous Experience:

None required unfortunately.
On-the-job training offered on a continually exhausting basis.

Wages & Compensation:

Get this! You pay them!

Offering frequent raises and bonuses.

A balloon payment is due when they turn 18

because of the assumption that college will help them
become financially independent

When you die, you give them whatever is left

The oddest thing about this reverse-salary scheme is that
you actually enjoy it and wish you could only do more.


While no health or dental insurance, no pension,
no tuition reimbursement, no paid holidays and
no stock options are offered;
this job supplies limitless opportunities for personal growth
and free hugs and kisses for life if you play your cards right 


Can I just say that I am a little worried…  I already do quite a lot of these items with my mum… susi – we may end up feeling déjà vu in our role(s) as parents!   

Perth’s new Ferris Wheel & The employer of choice

Perth got a Ferris Wheel – not like the one at the show but a “big” one… I say it in inverted comma’s as I must admit we in my building on my floor have attested that it is not big at all!


Brad at work has claimed that it is “cheap” and “crap” and that it is “Queensland’s reject” at $15 a ride with the actual thing being paid for out of taxpayer’s dollars he has opened my eyes in saying that “we’re paying two times over!”


Hmm – does this mean that only those who DON’T pay taxes would need to pay! Oohhh – I am gleefully happy at the thought of those people who currently go on rides are all too happy to display said unemployment card as their mode of concession only to be dumbfounded that this would mean that they would be the people who would be paying!! Hehe! Oh the sweetness of it all! Imagine if this was our society’s logic?


Currently is you’re fulltime employed you pay taxes (simple logic isn’t it?) – We use a progressive tax system meaning that the more you earn the more taxes you pay (again, simplistic isn’t it?). Although this seems to make sense it’s the rest that sometimes baffles me! as a taxpayer my tax goes to the unemployed, roadwork’s, helping to fund the creation of such mindless ideas as the Perth ferris wheel and lets not forget the bell tower and naturally the unemployed… I would quickly like to claim that I have no problems with those who are on unemployment benefits – and if you’ve been on it for ages kudos to you I say! However those that I am referring to here are those idiots who have been on it for years and years on end (often right after they quit high school at age 15 and discovered that they couldn’t get a job) and think its their god given right as Australian along with their free to ludicrously cheap housing, free medical, telephone allowance (that’s right – I am not kidding you1) and all the other perks that comes with being a long-term member of the social security club!


As per usual I am digressing (although not completely) – let me explain to you how well Centrelink (Australia’s name to Social Security/Welfare) have inadvertently marketed themselves as being the employer of choice:

No need to lodge a tax return at the end of the financial year (since you didn’t get anything that needed tax taken out of it!)

Cheap housing – granted the house isn’t that great or new but at a sliding scale for payments that range from nought to $80 per week what do you expect?

You have the opportunity to be part of the great Aussie dream of owing your own home at a discounted rate – pay the rent on your cheap housing and in years to come its all yours!

Discounted bills… I kid you not! If you’re unemployed you get a discount on your water bill, a discount on your electricity, a discount on your council rates and a discount on your telephone line!

A healthcare card that provides eligibility to cheap medical, $5 flu vaccinations and some free pharmaceuticals

Got a child who needs to go to school? It’s all good – cheaper school fees (if they go to state school) + a discount on your kid’s uniform & books!

And lets not forget the discount provided when they go to watch a movie at the cinemas, cheaper public transport, their annual free train trip on the Australind,


Other great aspects include:

The baby bonus: had a baby recently? Don’t forget to tell Centrelink so you get that $5000 lump sum in your account which is meant to be for the child but too often goes to a new plasma TV!


Increased family tax benefit – separated parent on clink? More money for you! And naturally it’s all tax free! I’ve seen people ‘earn’ more than double from their benefits than I do in a fortnight!!!! Madness I tell you!


All this and they never have to miss an episode of the Ellen show, Oprah or Days of Our Lives!


Oh – and did I mention that you get to sleep in? Each and every single day?


But rather than go on and on (more than I have already) I have an interesting notion based on my ferris wheel theory!


Make them pay more (for some things)!


If you’re unemployed you shouldn’t be able to go to the movies – you should be fretting about getting a new job (not watching Benjamin Button because I said that I think you may enjoy it!)… BUT if you do want to go to the cinemas you should pay a few dollars more than us little plebs that drag ourselves from our warm/relaxing/comforting bed each morning – this should be your little contribution! Apparently a recent study on the prevalence of gambling addictions showed that a large percentage of individuals addicted to pokie machines were unemployed… hmm – makes you wonder doesn’t it?


It shits me no end!!!


Those who are working keep giving more and more… get a raise? Pay more tax! Work more hours to earn more money to pay more tax… unemployed and recently gotten a job? Fantastic… if its casual or part-time you can double dip with both your benefit AND your little side job! It’s maddening! I feel like we are creating this diluted dumbed down version of society whereby people become inept to do anything for themselves or take any sort of accountability for their actions because if push comes to shove Centrelink will deal with it all – will hold your hand in relation to your ‘income’, your health, the maintaining of your children, your housing, your lack of budgeting skills (as they can give you ‘emergency’ payments when needed), how much bills cost! No wonder some people have no idea how to do things… the brain is a muscle – it needs to be exercised!


I’m not saying there shouldn’t be a discount with households – if you’re full-time employed and have a (depressingly) large chuck of your income gobbled up in taxes you should, nay you deserve a discount on your water, electricity, etc! Got a mortgage? Here – have an extra discount on your council rates! I think this actually is fair… I mean you’ve given something to society (the tax $$), shouldn’t we get something back?


Come on man… give us a break!


PS. Sorry if I have offended however its how I’m feeling at the time of this rant!

The trip is nearing…

So I’ve been a bit vacant of late (sorry guys). I am not certain if its because of Ramadan and have thus not really got the energy to write as my days seem to be a jumble of sahur (waking up early before sunrise to eat then pary), get up to work, come back from work, Iftar (open fast and eat), tiraweh prayers at the mosque and stumbling into bed only to have it all start over again. The weekend has some small variation including religious discussions/Quran reading and then staying longer at tiraweh…

My trip is impending… yes; I can tell that the time is near as I start to receive the barrage of emails from my cousins/aunts/uncles/more cousins politely asking for exactly what they want as “gifts” from Aussie-land which have so far included; 2 pairs of Havaianas thongs, Junk Food t-shirts (it’s a brand), Mylanta antacid tablets, vitamins and apples – yes you did hear right… apples! Apparently my uncle has a penchant for our fuji apples (also my mum’s favorite). I’m not that fazed really about the whole gift giving thing – at least I know they’ll like what I get them (since they asked for it!). Plus my family are generally quite “generous” in the gift-giving area so it should be work out!

If my trip to Thailand was anything to go by I am an avid packer – not that I packed weeks in advance; although I will say that apart from toiletries my mum is actually already all packed???? Seriously, the longer I live with my mother the less I understand her… truly! Rather I think about what I want to bring with me… think about what I want to be wearing over there.

My mum has already cut out knee-length skirts from my packing wardrobe, telling me that my denim skirt is apparently not ‘appropriate’ at my aunty’s house… *sigh* so I will be wearing either long skirts or pants during pretty much the entirety of this trip.

Do I sound bitter about this trip? Slightly… actually I think despondent is more the word to use 

Do I sound like I would much rather not go??? Hell yeah…

Have I made my feelings ABUNDANTLY clear to my mum but to no avail??? Is the Pope Catholic???

Of  course I have… over and over, and then more over again to such a point where apparently each time I have mentioned it to her that I am apparently “killing her” and that I should stop talking about it if I want her to be happy. So what do I do? I sit there… silently…. seething on the inside… appearing like everything is FINE… when really all I want to do is be anywhere except there!!!!

Hmm – I’ve just realized that this post has suddenly turned into a major rant… sorry people but I am going to proceed anyway (chris this is your fault as you said that you wanted a rant!!!)


Now before you go and say that I am being tottalllllyyyy ungrateful for a trip that I am not paying for let me tell you that my mum is excited (beyond belief) at the prospect of spending time with me(I am going to quote exactly what she said to me):


“I’m so happy that I will be spending nearly 4 weeks going with you every day. So good – every day I see you. We be together every day – not work; just with me… every day”


What do I say to that?


I have tried to organise shopping expeditions with my cousins while I am there… you know, to give me some “space” however if I am with one of cousins she will constantly call my mobile (so I just switch it onto silent and ignore) then alternating to their mobile so that they feel ssssoooo bad/impolite/rude for making my mum so sick with worry that we cut short said shopping expedition/catching up and then it just becomes too hard that either they or myself just gives up. Or the other tactic that my mum has employed is to make the entire trip ssssoooo busy and put all (her) necessary business on different days and insist that I do it with her… so there I am on holiday but DESPERATLY yearning to be on holiday….


Or even at work…

Interview VS Proposal

When I went to get the job I have now it was after a rigorous and rather intensive interview process. Bear with me a moment because I swear to you I am getting to a point! I went to the first interview with the recruitment agency, followed by the completion of not one, or two but three psychometric tests (of which I said that due to what I had studied and worked in would not be considered as valid as I was pretty familiar with the responses of psychometric test(s)… they made me do it anyway and later exclaimed that they had never had a person’s responses be so extreme – hello???? What did I just tell you? The results won’t be valid!!!!!). I then (that same day) had the individual interview with that agency and then had a group interview (3 weeks later) with the department; then a panel interview (me vs. 3 of them) and then had this medical examination. Sheesh! Apparently I have spoken to other people who have worked or did work for other government agencies where the interview/selection process was up to 7 interviews! Seven!!!  The insanity of it all! Although in saying that the retention isn’t that great so maybe the interview process needs to get smarter rather than getting longer.


In saying that I understand that this done in order to ascertain a candidates suitability for a position… a 38.5 to 40 hour a week position that a person rarely holds for the rest of their lives. So what on Allah’s earth makes someone think that after ONE lunch (that last just over an hour) and ONE ride to their brother’s house (because he lived rather close to my house and so I was going that way anyway) that proposing to me is a good idea?




I don’t get it? Last night he calls me asking how he wants to come around this weekend with his parents to talk to my mum and ask for my hand in marriage – to discuss intentions, dowries!!!








You can’t see me people but I swear to you that I was… no AM hyperventilating! I’m all for doing ‘things’ the ‘right’ way, the halal way, but gee… can I take a minute here? It’s taken more thought and time to think to buy a pair of shoes! Do we not think that you’re maybe just getting a llliiiitttttlllle ahead of yourself? One lunch and a ride home does not a marriage make! He doesn’t know me… and for that matter I don’t know him – he might have 3 testicles for all I know! Maybe he suffers from MPD (multiple personality disorder)… maybe I do? I have always felt very split personality-ish!


I told him that sadly (ahem) this weekend my mum and I had a lot planned…


So, running to those ‘dem hills is looking pretty good at the moment…

Mum & the Tree

One of many Gum Trees

One of many Gum Trees


I had to take the day off work yesterday – I woke up feeling like my head was the size of a whale, filled with water! So I made the executive decision that listening to people whinge & whine about show terrible their life is and how what this country gives them is apparently their God-given right (it’s not people! It’s a bloody privilege! Getting a home through Homes West + Social Security + the Baby Bonus is NOT a right – sorry for the outburst, I’m still not quite well!) would be a very hard pill to swallow. When I later re-awoke it was 11.30am I still felt dazed but a little better (I still sounded somewhat nasal and had a sore throat L).


My mum was stoked, overjoyed, jubilant to have me at home for the whole day. Really, it was as though all her Eid’s had come at once (well, I can’t use Christmas since we don’t celebrate it can I?) – she had me stuck there all day. By about 3.30pm I was wondering if maybe being at work would’ve been less stressful on my nerves! Its not that she’s unbearable per se, nor is it that I don’t enjoy her company but I think time with parents (or in my case just my mum) is like a fine jellab (since I’m on a role I’m not using ‘wine’ either! Jallab – very yummy, is a type of syrup popular in the Middle East; made from dates and rose water) in that you can have too much.


Yesterday’s antics involved a call to the council about a tree that had recently been planted in front of all the houses on our street. Obviously this is on council property (meaning after the letterbox); I don’t quite know what their rationale for these trees are – probably better drainage? They’re not roses or anything; they are young eucalypts. For anyone who doesn’t know gum tress grow to be quite large and have the tendency to drop lots of leaves (yes, I will admit they do provide great shade). Anyway, my mum is NOT happy about this tree that is currently sitting innocently in my front yard; her rationale is that it will grow to be too big. It will fill our gutters with leaves and will mean more work for her as she will have to rake up the leaves on the ground. Apparently she is far “too old” to be working in the garden, especially when it’s someone else’s mess!


Can I say that my mum is not old – she has just turned 52! I think that this is not old! I did explain to her that it would be years before this tree got that big and cluttered our gutters (there is at least 4 meters distance between where the tree is to even a glimmer of gutter!) and that if there was fallen leaves on the garden that they would be on everyone else’s garden also! This did not appease her at all. Apparently I was told that I was siding with the council because I worked for the government when really I should be on her side since she gave birth to me. And that the answer is… we have to move house now!


*Internal scream with frustration*….*external silence*


*Insert ‘patient’ smile* I told my mum that selling the house over something trivial like this maybe isn’t the way to go – maybe she should contact the council? Get the tree removed or changed with something else? It then became my job (have we remembered that I was taking the day off because I felt like total crap?) to locate said phone number for said council; I refused to contact them and told her that she had the issue so therefore she should call (can I say that my mum has been in Australia for nearly 30 years; she speaks with a fairly strong accent and has been told that she speaks a little fast but she understands English just fine). So she called; telling them why she needs the tree removed, how it would grow to be too big, that it was affecting the number of cars that could park on that part of lawn and how it would be bad for gutters. But even I had to smile when she threw in some guilt to the person she was talking to; “how can you do this to a person who is older? Expect her to look after a big tree? Would you like someone to do this to your mother?”


Needless to say the lady she spoke to was as unmovable as a large Gum tree. She gave my mum some options that involved writing a letter of complaint about the tree and about why she feels it should be removed. After much ‘discussion’ in regards to how she is my mother and how I should want to help her without being told and how no one told her to look after me but she did so anyway and made sure I went to school so that I became educated enough to speak perfect English, have both a bachelors degree + honours, that I should be begging to write this letter for her. I tried to explain that she had provided with an exemplary example of child rearing and that I would take all this on board when it came time for me to eventually raise my own children but that I would not be writing this letter as I did not have any issue with the tree. In case anyone is wondering what I am doing tonight after work I will be writing said letter regarding said tree.


Needless to say today I am at work.