New school

Yesterday I went to school, the school I have left. It was my brother's O-Levels final result and I went with him, Mother and Father to get it.
I met all my friends and I had a great time with a friend. We are a pair of idiots and we goof off a lot.

We were riding on a small gate going "Wheeeee!" It was so fun. We are the weirdest people you will ever meet, we talk about random shit and laugh like maniacs but I like doing that and I don't feel stupid.

My new school starts from Monday 19th August. In a way I can't wait to see what it will be like but I am also very apprehensive, everybody will be so different from me and I seriously doubt they will be very accepting of me.

Tomorrow is the orientation and I hope that I interact with some people and we become sort of friends, kind of like acquaintances so on Monday I am not so totally lost.

But my mother met this one girl who lives nearby and she is also starting school this year in the same class so that will make the new school better for the both of us. I think.

That is all for now. I have to go get ready and pee.

I hope I am more active from now on.

Tomorrow is orientation. I think I already said that.

My mother and anger issues

I am going to say something here, something I probably should not say. I hate my mother. And though, I am sure that people have said that time and time again. I am telling you I truly, honestly hate my mother.

Why is it her problem if I go to sleep late at night. My brother is not even home. It is 12 45am and he will be back at 2, that too he said maybe. Why am I the subject of all her torture? It is not my damn fault that I am the youngest or the only girl. The fact is I hate being a girl. I loathe it. And I am pretty sure I have never said that on the internet but it is true. I hate being one. And I know I should be thankful for being one but I am not.

I do not want to get married before I hit 20 and have a child in university, I do not want to be a typical early married Pakistani girl. Why don’t people understand I don’t want to get married?!

I was feeling so happy a while back, when I was sitting watching series 5 episode 2 of Doctor Who and who annoys the shit out of me? Well, my mother; of course.

Comes and says, “Come upstairs and go to sleep.” I tell her “Not now.” And you know what she says? She says “What is wrong with you, you say that for everything, come 'now.'” And I wanted to shake her or something; every single damn day she makes me do the most minute shitty things every other second. “Go get a spoon.” “Go close the curtain.” “Turn off the light of my bathroom.” “Lock the door.” “Close the window.” “Put this on the table.” “Go downstairs do that.” “Go upstairs do that.”

Now maybe that does not sound annoying but when you have just sat down after doing something and picked up where you left off in whatever you were doing and someone tells you to do something else you want to slap the person across the face. Since she is my mother I cannot do that.

But I cannot wait to get away. I want to get a scholarship abroad and then not come back. And if God wills that will happen, but I so dearly hope it does. I am going to stab myself someday if this continues.

I am sure that some people might see this as being melodramatic or over-reacting but I cannot take it anymore. 

I can’t.

I am sure I will regret posting this; but what can I say? I am really angry. If you saw me right now (I am calmly sitting and typing on my laptop) you would not be able to figure out I am mad.

I think I will go sleep now, what's the point in finishing watching the episode, she ruined my happy mood. And she can probably come out of her room any second and be like what are you doing, why are you not asleep, what are you doing? She does not trust me, you see; hence the "What are you doing?"s.

Something Funny, Something Random

25^th July 2013 4:55 am

Right now, something funny happened. A few minutes earlier I went out of my room to tell my mother I was going to sleep and I see my father half-running across the lounge. Naturally, I ask him what was wrong since my father does not freak out unnecessarily.

He could not find his wallet. I started looking for it too. Basically in all the places father was checking around the third time because under pressure he tends to not see what is right in front of him. Mother comes upstairs, after having looked for it downstairs.

Father recounts when he last used his wallet. Then, Mother and Father go downstairs and they talk to Grandmother about something or the other, probably recounting the events after Father last used his wallet. Meanwhile I am upstairs, still looking in places Father has already triple-checked. I go into the washroom, look through the clothes he had changed into after office, nada. Look through one front and one back pocket of the pant Father wore to office the previous day, nil. Look through the other back pocket, the pant is hanging on the hook from that pocket, I pull it away and shove my hand in, bingo!

I go to the staircase and yell “I found it!” and Mother and Father are all like “From where?” “The pant Father wore to office, the pant he was wearing when he last took money out of his wallet.”

Father is very surprised and keeps saying he checked the pant three times and Mother says she checked it too and very thoroughly at that. And that is shocking, because you would not expect my Mother to miss something right in front of her; Father on the other hand, not so much.

He freaks out over the fact that he cannot find his phone just five minutes after handing it to me himself after I asked for it. That’s just how he is.

Oh well, it was just really funny and I thought I’d type it while it is still fresh in my mind.