Just a temporary measure

New blog take 2...

2011-07-01T14:25:00.001+01:00

Lot's of change warrants a new start and of course a new blog :-), find it here: Anecdotes of the Atypical

A new blog....

2010-05-12T22:07:00.002+01:00

I've got a new blog...it's more arts and crafts focused...I was reading some of my old posts the other day and I can't believe how long ago it seems !!

Anyway new blog is Here hope to see you there :)

Won't be updating this one anymore but I'm still going to keep it up for nostalgia's sake!

Those little folk again...

2009-01-19T23:25:00.004Z

...no not the Borrowers..

So there i was "helping" a girl with her space collage and i overhear a snippet from the little folk over in the home corner. I had been following them for some time ( cutting out stars and planets gets boring after... lets say...erm...half an hour!), from what i gathered there was a mum, an older sister, a small boy, a police man and a firewoman who came home from a hard days work. The mum seemed to have set the table out with her top of the range plastic tea set and was now cooking what seemed to be several plastic eggs on her range cooker...then all of a sudden, a typically northern voice shatters the domestic bliss (it was either the small child or the policeman, i'm not sure which, they were brothers you see...) "WHERES MY BREW, I'VE BEEN WAITING TEN THOUSAND HOURS FOR IT!!

A conversation...

2009-01-17T21:57:00.004Z

Small girl of around 5/6 years old: where are you from?
Me: Rochdale...
Small girl: I'm from England
Me (looking at her in a curious way): Oh...Rochdale is in England, it's not very far from here, it's really close actually (we were, at that very moment standing in Heywood)
Small Girl: ohhhh issit in Scotland?
Me: (giving her an even more curious look) No...
Small Girl: (Thankfully she had a very short attention span and had totally lost interest in our "conversation" and was by know squirming for room on the brown sofa...)

Fate...

2009-01-15T21:38:00.003Z

I had just turned off my laptop, my lethargy overcame me and i just could not be bothered writing a blog post. I had a few already started but they were long winded stories which required a large amount of brain power which i didn't really have . I had just formed the intention of writing one tomorrow morning when my mum entered the house. My mum, grandma and aunt had been visiting an old family friend (they lived in the same village in Pakistan...). The husband has had terminal bowel cancer for 3-4 years now and they were going to visit him, my mum was picking my grandma up when she got a phone call from my uncle...The man in question had been released from hospital at 4.oo...he passed away at 7.00, as my mum reached my grandma's house. About five minutes before setting off my mum was telling us where she was going, she said they wanted to see him before it was too late...

Fate is a funny thing...

Sometimes bad things happen for a reason...

2009-01-13T11:18:00.002Z

Here’s two examples why:

One: My dad had to make an impromptu trip to Pakistan because my grandma is really ill. My other grandma (mums mum) wanted to give my dad a few things to pass on. As both my parents were scrambling around the house in a last minute rush, the job of picking my grandma up was given to me. Now when you go to my grandma’s house it’s not a simple matter of waiting in the car and honking the horn and waiting. You see, the true proprietor of the house is my 2 year old cousin, who to be frank, is a huge mass of hyperactive energy compacted and compressed until it resembles an extremely cute child. So one cannot possibly just wait outside but is actually met at the door with shrieks of excitement and indistinguishable yet highly amusing chatter emitted from the said mass of energy. Coupled with the fact that I could see my grandma speaking furtively on the phone to someone I thought it best I go in. So in I went to the delight of my cousin, it turned out my grandma was on the phone to her nephew in Pakistan giving him stern instructions on the money she was going to send via my dad. This was going to take a while. So I made my self comfortable and began an attempt to translate what my cousin was saying (he was telling me his mum was in the conservatory but he couldn’t pronounce it properly). Half an hour later my grandma was off the phone and ready to go. A couple of minutes later we entered the oddly eerie hush that was our house, my mum was praying and I presumed everyone else was upstairs probably doing the same. My mum had just finished her prayer and turned to me with a look of anger in her face,
“why were you not answering your phone!” she shouted, it was then I remembered I had left my phone in my car before I went in to my grandmas…I hadn’t planned on staying half an hour…
”I left it in the car”…I muttered.
“You weren’t answering your phone, their house phone was engaged, they waited for fifteen minutes and you didn’t come so they’ve gone!!”, “they” of course referred to my dad and his friend who was going to drop him off at the airport…
“They’ve gone!” I echoed stupidly in disbelief
“Yes!” my mum snapped back. I couldn’t believe it, I’d missed my dad. I wasn’t expecting him to leave so early, I mean we had been checking the flight details online at irregular intervals since the night before and the plane was delayed by a good few hours, due to the heavy fog in Lahore. I couldn’t get over it, I felt tears welling up in my eyes, all sorts of horrible ideas filled my head, what if something happens, what if I never see my dad again. I didn’t get to say goodbye, I began to text him but I really didn’t know what to say, it took me about 15 minutes to word it and then send it. A couple of minutes later he rang back and he had a go at me for staying there for so long, but he calmed down and I bade him a safe trip. I still couldn’t get over it I prayed that he got there and back safely, every ounce of energy in my body willed him to get back home safe and sound. I prayed like I’ve never prayed before, until I knew there was nothing else I could do…

A couple of hours later my mum went to one of her friends house who was ill, and there was a phone call, my brother who was in the other room answered it. About 15 minutes later he came in and said my dad is coming home because his plane was delayed even more. A wave of relief spread over me, and I think a big cheesy grin actually spread over my face. An hour or so later my dad came and stayed for a good few hours and I got to say good bye properly. Yet I couldn’t help thinking that if I hadn’t missed my dad the first time would I have prayed with so much determination?!

Lesson learnt: Bad things bring you closer to God

Two: Me and Mishy went to watch Yesman a week or so ago, ok so this isn’t a personal example but it’s a good example all the same. The main character agrees to give a homeless person a lift in an attempt to “yes” more often. Then whilst on the journey the homeless individual asks to use his phone, of course our protagonist agrees, after all he is a good natured version of his old self. Yet he didn’t realise how prolonged his conversation would be , you see, contrary to appearances our homeless person is actually very popular. So our homeless person arrives at his destination (which by the way is in the middle of some sort if park/reserve in the dead of night). By know he is kinda taking the mick as he asks for some money, on seeing that the driver has rather more than he is giving out he asks for all of it, once again our good intentioned driver acquiesces. The result of his kind actions? He is stranded in the middle of nowhere with a dead phone, no petrol and no money. Thus he treks all the way back to civilisation to fill a gallon up with petrol…and who does he meet there?? The love of his life….

Lesson learnt: Some good does come from bad things…

Real muslims...

2009-01-11T23:14:00.004Z

I love this video and the accompanying sound track

Child speech v.s. adult speech

2009-01-09T15:37:00.000Z

You may have seen photos of “ninjabread” on my flickr account, the little ginger and white kitten that we looked after for a few days for my cousins. Well it so happens that ninjabread took a visit to the vet the other day, the reason?!...I’ll give you both my cousin’s explanation and their mum’s explanation….

My cousins: (imagine a 15 year old a 13 year old and a 8 year old speaking simultaneously, all competing to be heard...) He’s gone to be neutralised!, and he’s having a bug fitted!….

My Aunt: (Their mum) yeh he’s being neutered and having a tag fitted…

Spot the difference

New beginnings...

2009-01-07T23:40:00.002Z

Yes yes I know New Year new beginnings how cliché! However I assure you it’s quite coincidental that the beginning of the New Year (both Gregorian and Islamic) seem to correspond with another new beginning…that of my blog. Yes readers the time has come for me to move my virtual house to another URL. The reason?? Read on and all shall become clear…

The following is a series of emails exchanged between myself and someone who has something in common with this very blog ( you can find their website here ( and a rather cute website it is at that…). Obviously I changed my name into JTM , I didn’t really put that in the emails…that would be silly…

Hi Emma

i'm not sure how to begin this e-mail because i don't really know how these things are done! my name is JTM and i'm on the verge of launching my own business: selling handmade bags ( don't worry the bags are totally different to your designs!) i already have a blog and truth be told the name was inspired by your little shop in the manchester craft centre, the name of my blog being "Just a temporary measure" (.blogspot.com). I was thinking of also naming the business "just a temporary measure" when i remembered where the inspiration for the name came from...so in my own strange way i guess i'm trying to say that do you mind if i name my business "just a temporary measure" seeing as it contains your own business name?? i mean i don't think i will take it much further than an online shop and website/blog but i thought i'd ask anyway...

thanks

JTM

hello JTM

thank you for contacting me and i am so glad you liked my company enough to be inspired by it. i would have to say though that if you appreciate something then the best way to act on it is probably not by taking from it. i know that i would have been very uncomfortable if i had begun my business with the knowledge that i had used someone else's name, particularly as you must have an idea of how much the business and the concept and that particular bit of text means to me personally. i used that text because it came from the story that forms the backdrop for our company and that story is a piece of writing that i am very proud of. having begun your blog and starting out in your business you must now know how much of yourself you put on the line and put into your work. it's really up to you how you choose to act and having been in business for six years it doesn't particularly concern me, but i thought i would reply just to offer you the advice that this is perhaps not the best way to begin a venture. when you are asking people to buy into a personal brand the knowledge that every inch of your business is your own is an important one to have.

however i have to point out that the name temporary measure and also the phrase 'this was only ever just a temporary mesure' is all copyrighted by our company and is part of the temporary measure story that appears on all our work and is also copyrighted, so if we see it being used elsewhere i am afraid it is our policy to take action.

very best of wishes for the future,
emma
temporary measure

Hi Emma

I appreciate you getting back to me, and i totally understand what your saying. Your right about the whole every inch of the business being personal bit, as it didn't quite feel right to name my business just a temporary measure (no matter how much i like it), knowing that i had taken it from someone else. So i am going to change the name of the business as well as the blog, again thank you for your advice and i apologise for using your name on my blog

Best wishes JTM

hello JTM

no problem and if you ever need any help with anything or any advice with your business just let me know,

good luck with everything,
very best of wishes
emma
temporary measure

Isn’t nice how people can still solve their issues with courtesy and good old fashioned politeness? but yeh, back to the issue in hand I have to change my blog name…suggestions anyone?? That’s why I’m not blogging about the bags or anything remotely related as I am thinking of starting another blog specifically for my “business” (it feels weird calling it that…) but ones it’s up you dear readers will be the first to know J. I almost forgot to blog today I remembered at half 10 that I was supposed to blog...

I’m back!!... (From nowhere in particular)

2009-01-05T21:53:00.001Z

So I thought I would blog after a 2 month and 2 day break… (A personal best I think…). I mean the lack of blogging isn’t due to a shortage of material, I’ve had loads of stuff to blog about, I just haven’t had the time. At one point I was even contemplating deleting my blog, but the thought of not having a blog was too awful to even consider so that thought went as quickly as it came. So I thought I’d have to allocate a certain amount of time to my horribly neglected blog, first I was going to do it daily…then I thought “who was I kidding, blogging everyday is sooo not going to happen!?” Then I thought every other day perhaps, it’s marginally more achievable. So my aim is to blog every other day (a “new years resolution” if you will)…lets see how long that lasts

so until Wednesday…Ciao!

Kids and the things they do!

2008-11-03T21:20:00.002Z

Scene: A busy after school club somewhere in the north west of England, me playing table football with a young girl of about nine:

Girl: (Indicating my id card around my neck with a nod of her head) That doesn’t look like you…
Me: (holding my card to inspect it closer) yeh I know it’s cus I’m wearing a white scarf in the picture…I’ve a black scarf on today
Girl: No it’s not just that, you’ve got more freckles than on the picture…

I had to chuckle.

Scene: Another busy junior club also somewhere in the north west of England, me telling an asian boy off for picking on a white boy (a regular occurrence involving the two boys in question):

Me: Stop calling him names! Why do you always call him names!
Asian boy: (In a matter of fact voice) Because I’m a muslim!
Me: (totally gobsmacked at hearing an answer I totally didn’t expect, thus stood there speechless for 5 seconds or so) That does not mean you bully people!

What shocked me the most about what he said was the way he said it, it was as if he had a God given right to harass people!, I don’t think the message hit home though in my speechlessness I lost the moment, it made me so sad though…

Scene: A huge turquoise bus painted with people in a child like style, the inside set
Like a classroom with a group of school children around a table. A nine year old boy with the bluest of eyes, sandy hair, a smattering of freckles and a slight slur to his speech said with the noblest of expressions: “You can replace a lost item but you can’t replace a human” me and the other worker looked at each other and smiled.

So thought i'd update....

2008-11-03T20:51:00.007Z

I sat staring at my laptop for a good few minutes thinking of what my password was....after several failed attempts i realised it was infact my username that was incorrect...

that's how long it's been since i've updated... sheeesh

So here's a few random updates:

I've got a car!!....(It's 1 litre Mishy...) It's had a few teething problems which i will DEFINITELY blog about tomorrow...but i love it nonetheless

My photography is going places... One of my photos ("Thirsty anyone #2") can be seen here...Another one ("Slug and snail") is awaiting publication in an e-book being commissioned by South Africa's top gardening website. Exciting stuff.
Just A Temporary Measure will soon be much more then just a blog name...
Errmm yeh that's about it...oh i've updated flikr too for those who don't know...

I promised two posts to Mishy, so will post two, but car one will be tomorrow

until then :D

TGIF: Thank God Its Friday!!

2008-08-22T21:53:00.002+01:00

Thought I’d take a leaf out of Ymiss’s virtual book:

The car came to a slow halt, looking out of the window I saw the two of them walking up the footpath. A wave of recognition passed over me. Primary school. The older one was in the same year as me. The shorter one a year or two younger than me, he looked towards me. In what I presume was his attempt at imitating a Pakistani accent he called out “you can drive with that headdress on”. Before I could comprehend what had just happened the traffic began to flow once more, as the car began to move I tilted my head to the side in confusion. What had just happened? Moreover I was wearing a headdress? Images of Cleopatra popped into my mind, now there was a woman who could rock a headdress, me? I had a plain white hijaab on, and anyway since when did a headscarf impede my ability to drive?? Was the statement in fact a question? Was it meant as an insult? Unfortunately the silly accent masked any intonation of the voice so I couldn’t really establish the intent behind the voice. As I pushed the break down once more, I had to chuckle, I mean what was the point of making that statement, it’s not exactly insulting, he may have done it to look cool in front of his friend but I don’t recall noticing a reaction from his companion. I did have me a good chuckle indeed, it was just so random and amusing. So my first TGIF is dedicated to all those random strangers that we meet that make us smile, or think, or smile and think, or make a totally crap day into a good one. To the person who smiles at you when you most need a smile, to the guy who gets up for you on the train, to the little kid who looks so cute, to the person who picks up something that you’ve dropped and hands it back to you, the old woman who you strike up a conversation with on the bus and yes even the guy who made the aforementioned statement…whatever his intentions where he made me laugh nonethelsss… I thank you all for making me smile :D

I am also VERY grateful for the bank holiday weekend, after a week of working everyday the prospect of three days off fills me with delight every time I think about it :D

Letting it slip through my fingers...

2008-08-21T11:16:00.000+01:00

…Not only did I let “it” slip through my fingers, but my fingers were splayed apart to allow it ease of passage, whilst I bade it farewell and the hope that it has a good journey whilst slipping right out of my grasp.

The “it” I am referring to is a job interview I recently had. Now I’m the kind of person who only applies for jobs when I think I have a VERY good chance of getting it otherwise I don’t see the point of spending 5 hours filling in an application form if I’m not even going to get an interview. My mum on the other hand has an “apply for everything” philosophy which quite frankly I abhor, and has often resulted in a few heated debates between us, mainly revolving around my future in the world of work.

However here was a job that we both actually agreed on, it was a teaching assistant post in a nursery for a child with special needs. This job had everything, my mum worked there a few days a week so she knew the staff, it was a mere 10 minutes away from my house, it was only 10 hours per week, it was a temporary position, our team leader for my other job also works there and she would be giving a reference for me, and it was with a child with special needs which fitted in perfectly with my degree. It was the perfect job and I knew I was in with a good chance, as it only required basic qualifications, so I applied not caring that it took me 5 hours to fill in the application form as I knew I would get an interview.

There was a huge response for the position and out of the 30 applicants I was one of the four who were short listed and invited to an interview. The interview went really well, my responses received approving nods and once the interview was over the interviewers were curious about my degree and my heritage (lol). I thought that must have been a good sign as they wanted to know more about me as a person and I left the interview with a spring in me step and a smile on my face. However looking at my phone I was surprised that the interview barely lasted 20 minutes but I pushed that to the back of my mind I was in too good a mood to think about silly little things like that.

Two hours later at point where me and my sister were browsing around the Arndale centre I received THE call, I could immediately tell from the tone of the head teacher’s voice that I hadn’t received the job, she apologised to me and offered to give me some feedback which I graciously accepted: the reason for my rejection, I hadn’t put enough detail in some of my answers. I flashed back to the time on my phone. “I know you had the knowledge but you just could have elaborated on your answers abit more” I sensed sincere regret in her voice. I was gutted, I mean it wasn’t as if it was something that I didn’t have, like a qualification or the right work experience or something it was a stupid mistake that could have been easily rectified. The next day my mum was working at said nursery and told me that the headteacher was apologising for not giving me the job, and that it would have been great to have me working there…At that moment I had to fight back the tears, I had no one to blame but myself…

A Strange Day...

2008-08-14T20:01:00.000+01:00

I watched in helpless desperation as the bus drove past my stop, a whimpered “no” escaped my lips, the bus, totally empty trundled on. About half a minute later, not only am I much closer to my stop but a second bus can be seen in the distance heading straight for me. Not only is the fact that two buses appearing within such close proximity to each other a miracle in it’s purest form but what happened next was a rarity indeed. I ran. That’s right. I ran. For the bus. I got there an instant before the bus giving me just enough time to straighten my hijaab and generally compose myself, all the while acting as if running was a regular occurrence in my life.

Whilst sitting on the bus I noticed a young woman near the front observing me, I glanced at her and she looked away. This intricate display of social norms was repeated several times, the girl shifted positions and moved her arm, where I saw a silver glint, I looked closer and then it hit me, the girl wasn’t sat on a seat in the bus...she was in a wheelchair. This affected me in quite an unexpected way, I had just ran for the bus without giving a second thought to the very act of placing one leg in front of another and here was a woman who probably had to put great effort and thought into it. The bus stopped, a few people got on, I saw the girl glance at them and share a secret smile with a hidden face, on seeing the now unhidden face I immediately saw a resemblance between the two women. Sisters. Indeed, the smile that was exchanged was the sort given by one sister to another, that knowing smile that they know something that the rest of the world is oblivious to. My attention turned to the sister and I noticed she had a sling around her arm, again my reaction was quite profound. I had almost unconsciously used both hands in a balancing act involving my umbrella, my bag, my purse and the money when paying the bus driver. I was uncomfortable to say the least, uneasy at the fact that I take both my arms and legs and in fact every other functioning aspect of my body for advantage, and use them constantly without giving one iota of thought to the millions of actions they allow me to perform every day. Whilst looking out of the rain splattered window I silently appreciated all that I had.

That would have made as good ending to the post but the surreal-ness of the day didn’t stop there, my destination was a primary school where I was covering for one of the after school club staff. As the session was drawing to a close and each child was getting picked up by parents from various sectors of the work force two events occurred which added to the bizarreness of the day. On finding out that his son had hit another pupil a father had responded in the very way his son had learned, he threatened “to batter” his son up once he got home. Another father picking up his daughter this time had noticed that his eight year old daughter had been using her mum’s fake tan. Again. As I stood there putting the pack of cards away that the girl in question and me had been using to play snap, I couldn’t help but wonder what a peculiar world we live in…

Et Voila!

2008-08-09T13:26:00.002+01:00

I'm done!! whadaya think?

sigh

2008-07-13T12:44:00.003+01:00

It was all going to be perfect, i was going to reveal my brand spanking new header which i am totally in love with, Complete with new fonts for the titles etc which took me absolutely ages to figure out how to change, and i actually got how to change the html etc, thus having a new blog i would be inspired to actually write new posts. But alas it is often the best laid plans that fail... I actually shrieked with excitement when i saw the finished product i loved it!! my sister, on the pc all of 2 meters away from me enquired as to what the celebratory shrieks were in aid of. my response "oh you won't get it, it's something blog related" (only someone who has started hopelessly at the gobbledigook that is html will get the feeling of having finally conquered it). So off she goes typing in my blog url and she merely sees the new header, without the absolutely amazing font which goes so perfectly with it, expectedly she appreciated the cuteness of the header but without the font that took me ages to find and which goes swo perfectly with it, it's just like a perfect outfit without the perfect shoes, or like the perfect cake but without the icing!! it's just not possible!! the reason as to why the font made a no show?? it was only installed on my laptop, so frustratingly only i can see the font which matches oh so brilliantly with my header ( which incidently i have taken down as there is no point in having a header without the font) soo my dear readers until i find a way for the world to see the font, this blog will once again be sadly neglected...

Kidulthood

2008-06-23T17:02:00.001+01:00

I watched this film at quite an appropriate time, it was sort of a divine message from above kinda thing. It gave new meaning to the prophetic phrase “look to those who rank below you….rather than those above you”. There I was ready to break down after having what I thought was a totally crappy day, this film certainly put my priorities in order!

The film opens in a high school somewhere in the depths of London, you have the tart, the bully, therefore by default, the bullied, the “jack the lads” and then those guys who are a tad too old to be hanging around high schools but really have nothing better to do. However this quickly turns into your not so average high school drama, it is the shocking clarity of the opening events that sets the scene for the rest of the film. As the 90 minute film progresses the story line quickly descends deeper and deeper into the explicit world of sex, drugs and everything in-between that keeps the two tightly interlocked, and this is just one day! The director certainly doesn’t pussyfoot around “those” issues that are always implied yet never shown, thus resulting in a film which certainly isn’t for the light hearted and definitely plays the shock card. The film is smattered with a few comical scenes, (which are easy to forget in all those brow raising scenes), and is accompanied by a brilliant soundtrack which further portrays the characters inner struggles. HOWEVER although this film is brilliantly produced and directed I think it’s easy to guess what will happen in the end. It was quite graphic at times, without the need to be, as the film would have been better off without a few of the scenes in my opinion. Overall however I think it does its job of showing how SOME youths are today, albeit in a rather shove it down your throat kinda way…

Death is in the air...

2008-06-15T22:40:00.002+01:00

A little while back we found out that the whole idea of women not being allowed to visit the grave is just more cultural codswallop created by people who believe in too many superstitions and too little truths. Women are only prohibited to visit the grave as they are more likely to wail and express their emotions in less than savoury ways (again other cultural creations come into play here, further blurring the already fuzzy line between religion and culture…). The simple fact is that women are allowed to visit the grave provided they act with decorum and composure. Since discovering this, my mum has had the intention to visit my granddad’s grave, and so it was on Monday that me, my mum and my grandma went to visit the graveyard. Now someone somewhere had a weird epiphany of some sort and decided that the perfect spot for building a high school would be right next to a graveyard, thus the journey to the graveyard was one I had passed twice a day, five days a week for five years of my life. It seemed the journey itself was full of death, we passed a dead bird lying on someone’s garden wall, its corpse perfectly undamaged. An unfortunate, unidentifiable creature had met its demise under a car, the only clue suggesting that the gruesome mess was in fact once an animal was a prominent tail, which could only belong to a squirrel. When we got to the grave the perfectly glorious weather surprised me, I suppose I was expecting it to be all dark and gloomy or something. After parking the car we followed my grandma to where my granddads grave was. Whilst carefully walking past all the graves, I made a conscious effort to avoid stepping on any of the mounds. Suddenly I comprehended the enormity of the situation, there were hundreds of dead people under my feet, the thought flashed for a mere moment but the unpleasant feeling it left behind lingered for much longer. Considering my current situation such thoughts were to be expected, I was in a graveyard after all, but when you look in front of you and see rows and rows of gravestones and the same view watches you from behind, you realise that these were all living breathing people once upon a time, with their own share of worries and happiness. It’s quite a disconcerting thought to say the least. We stopped at a grey grave stone with faint traces of once black letters only just representing my granddads name, the patch of land in front of it looked so plain and sad in comparison to its neighbours. My mum opened the book we had brought with us that had in all the prayers that one should say when visiting the graveyard and the three of us began praying. A sudden wave of emotion came over me as I began uttering the Arabic words and I could feel my vision blurring behind a wall of tears. Dammit. I looked to the sky to try and suppress the tears but was only met with blue skies and sunshine. The weather was mocking me. I looked behind me and only saw more gravestones standing row after row. I’m not quite sure but I think at this point I may have stamped my foot in frustration as the wall of tears gave way and began to make their way down my face. I asked my mum what prayer was next and was amazed to see her eyes were dry, although her voice faltered as she told me what to read next. I remember thinking that she must have had heaps of will power to not cry, after all it was her father’s grave. It made me wonder if I could be so strong if it was me in her position, I couldn’t bring myself to think what I would do. Then there was my grandma, she was visiting her husband’s grave after so many years and she was able to withhold her tears, I had to admire them both at that moment. I looked around at the surrounding graves and saw a bouquet of the brightest most pinkest roses I’ve ever seen sitting on a flawless black gravestone. I looked at the gravestone, the girl was two days old when she died in 1989, another one, the occupant was 29 years old and so all the gravestones described the residents of the patch of land in front of them. After saying the prayers and standing in relatively silent contemplation we made our way back to the car. As we sat in I saw a grave surrounded by soft toys, another child. I glanced at the sign for the cemetery, a lone spider web was blowing lightly in the gentle breeze, I contemplated taking a picture of it on my phone, it would have made a brilliant photo, but I decided against it. After having seen the eventual fate of every human being, taking a photo just seemed so irrelevant…

Back to the old routine..!?

2008-06-05T18:46:00.003+01:00

That’s what everyone was saying when we were en route to England from Belgium, back to work, back to school, back to the old routine, but for me there was no old routine. Prior to Belgium I had been doing supply work for Sure Start for three days, which started a mere two days after emerging from my last exam. Thus leaving behind the surreal revision routine, to irregular employment in various settings, there was no old routine, there was a total absence of routine all together! The few days I had after my exams went by with no clear structure, I did what I did. Ferrying of to Belgium did no favours at all, the simple act of going on holiday is conducted in order to escape the “mundanity” of everyday routine, but going on holiday to attend a wedding? Well, that just diminishes any last trace of routine left in your body.

However Belgium did give me the chance to stop and “take stock of things” so to speak. After the wedding I was able to pause everything and contemplate about the deeper things in life, specifically what I want to do now that I’m not a student. A couple of years ago the immediate answer would have been “I want to become an educational psychologist”, a couple of months ago it would have been “I want to start my own business selling handmade bags and purses”, however more recently I don’t know what I want to do at all. I don’t want to study anymore so you’re not going to see me with a succession of letters after my name, running around in schools, administering weird tests with even weirder acronyms in order to find out exactly what is “wrong” with a certain child. The idea of starting my own creative business has also lost its appeal, it just doesn’t seem like it’s worth anything. I mean a doctor saves lives, a policeman? A nurse? Ditto, I don’t even need to mention what a teacher does for you to remember fond memories of your school years. But what does making purses do?? It makes someone look better?? It just seems so shallow in comparison. After some thorough and continuous (and often confusing) soul searching I seem to be returning to my first love…writing. As far back as my memory takes me I’ve loved writing, I still have stories I wrote in primary school of faraway places with weird people and talking animals. At high school I was one of the best in English, However at college that love began to falter slightly and at uni it was extinguished, whilst Psychology took over. The attraction to writing is that it actually does affect people’s lives; one could write an article that has an astounding effect on even one reader’s life, isn’t that better than making someone looks good for a brief moment of time?

One of the magazines I’ve been thinking of submitting articles to is the revival (a magazine aimed at Muslim youth), I had been pondering over it for a while, thinking about how I could actually have a positive impact on someone’s life through writing for such a magazine, but I never really did anything about it. Then I went to the website again only to see there was an added jobs section, I slight hope flickered through me but I thought it’s probably local jobs to get the youths of the streets, I clicked and the first vacancy I see is for writers/journalists required for the magazine and corresponding blog. It was at that moment that I knew I wanted to write for a magazine, or dare I say become a journalist. I saw it as a kind of “sign” and although I haven’t replied to the vacancy yet I will definitely do so. I have a love hate relationship with youth work but for those " i so love this job" moments i'm going to stick with it for now. As for setting up my own business I think that’s going to be something on the side, the remotely far flung side…

(oh yeh Belgium blog is coming up asap, as well as some entertaining stories from my new job…)

An ode to the gerbil

2008-05-24T11:58:00.000+01:00

I had my hand in an inside out plastic bag and looked reluctantly towards the tank, I was grateful that the face was hidden by the wood shavings. The body was lying in an awkward position the upper half lying sideward, with the lower half on the back. In a grim yet morbidly humorous way the feet were actually sticking up in the air, I reached in and touched the body with the plastic bag an involuntary shudder spreading through my body. I lifted it as gently as I could, the soft velvetiness of its fur hiding the surprising hardness of its body. Rigor Mortis. Even the tail was rigid and immobile; it looked odd, tails aren’t supposed to be stiff. I was suddenly all the more appreciative of the bag which was between my hand and the body, thankful that I didn’t have to touch it. My arm left the tank, I turned the bag the right way so the body was now on the inside of the bag. I turned to see four pairs of eyes on the white plastic bag, a quite sombreness filled the room. The bag itself was not significantly heavier after receiving its load,
“Should I put it in the outside bin?” I inquired quietly to noone in particular.
“Well… there’s nothing else you can do with it now” my mum replied in an equally muted tone.
I headed for the back door and stepped outside, it did seem rather unceremonious to just dump it in the bin, but my mum was right there was nothing else we could do with it really. I lifted the green lid and put the bag inside, a second later a rather loud and unexpected thud startled me. It felt wrong to throw it away just like that, but what else could we do? I returned to the front room and looked in the tank, the other gerbil sniffed around the area where the body was lying, it then jumped in the pile of bedding dug itself inside, curled up and went to sleep.

The ease to my hardship...

2008-05-21T11:22:00.001+01:00

That’s right people the ease is finally here, in the past 3 months of uni I think I’ve done more work than the entire three years of my uni life put together. There’s been course essays, exams, and of course collecting participants for the infamous dissertation, all with their fair share of hardships. Every time I felt like giving up I thought of the hardship/ease saying, I thought of the moment I would walk out of my last exam, just the mere thought of it was enough to fill me with euphoria. When the actual time came however “euphoric” doesn’t quite seem like the correct adjective, I think “exhaustion” and “relief” are more adequate. To be honest I was too tired to be euphoric, which after all is a state of mind that requires a lot of energy. Plus the fact that my companions were adamant that they had failed their exams and made sure that everybody else knew about it did no favours to my mood. Yes I think relief is the word, I’m just glad it’s over…

However there is no rest for the “wicked” and the few days that I have been uni free have been rammed full of other stuff, so much so I haven’t had time to sit down and take stock of things. Yesterday I had an induction meeting thingy for the play/crèche supply work I’ve started doing, and the woman didn’t, waste any time in making good use of me. In fact in the hour of me being there she had already received 4 requests for supply staff , however there was only one supply worker i.e. moi, so I was to be put to work straight away. However that’s a story for another post and I will be bogging about my first 2 placements ASAP. Other news, we’re going to Belgium tomorrow, I wasn’t going to take my laptop as I was going to take a travel journal that Ymiss had kindly given me, write my thoughts etc in there and then blog when I get back. However for the past few days I haven’t been using it as much and I’ve missed it, I’m not sure whether I could got 10 days without it, but then again I’d have to take the charger and the case as well, and we don’t know for sure if there’s wireless were we’re going to stay. Either way, sooner or later you, dear reader will read about our meanderings through Brussels complete with lots of pictures.

Hardship and Ease...

2008-04-08T11:34:00.002+01:00

*sigh*, I’m writing this as I sit in my dinky 2x2 testing cubicle at uni. I’m supposed to be testing participants but I’m having no luck, the apparent roll I was on yesterday has….well…unrolled… (?). I’ve become an almost permanent fixture in the corridor whilst looking for first and second years to participate in my study. I’ve tested 35 participants, I need another 45 by…well…as soon as possible really but my aim is to get them all done by Sunday, Monday at the latest. I have two 2000 word essays to write by the 21st of April and a whole dissertation to have completed ideally by the same date, so I can hand in my draft to my tutor, after that I have about 3 weeks too revise my backside off for exams. After that?...well after that I can rest knowing that I will never have to sit another exam in my life, that my life in formal education will be over, that I have a whole summer of doing whatever I wish (within reason of course) without feeling bad that I’ve wasted valuable time that could have otherwise have been spent doing uni work …that, my dear readers will be the ease to my hardship. Every time I think about it, it makes me smile, in fact it makes me break out in the goofiest of grins. However for the moment I will have to deal with irregular sleep patterns, irregular eating patterns, of being exhausted all the time, of constantly thinking about how much work I’ve got left to do, no going anywhere unless it’s to test participants, after all, you have to work hard for the ease, right?

A God send (literally!)

2008-03-30T15:45:00.002+01:00

My mouth literally hung open when I saw these pins, I stumbled across them on my latest journey through the blogosphere (You know one of those journeys when you aimlessly hop from one blog to another in a quite erratic manner...)The reason for my jaw hanging open was that I finally found what I’ve been waiting for my entire life, Well ok maybe not entire life but the proportion of it that has been spent wearing a hijaab, I remember thinking every time a pin got caught in my scarf and damaged it “why are these damn coils there anyway”. Then some genius some where (Lets presume it’s a woman…well…cause why would a man think of such an ingenious idea?) actually read the minds of hijaabis the globe over and actually invented…wait for it…COILESS PINS. Yes people someone actually came up with the concept and made them, whoever it was I want to give them a hearty pat on the back. I had to buy them the instant I saw them and use them the instant they arrived. I cannot tell you how good it feels to put my hijaab on knowing that when it comes to taking it off there will be no snags/holes/frustrated noises (coming from me, not the scarf…). So I considered it my duty to pass on this amazing find, in the hope of bringing an end to snags/holes/frustrated noises (coming from you, not the scarf…), the world over :D

Oh yeh i suppose you'll be needing the link :D link

Dear Readers...

2008-03-18T20:43:00.005Z

Sorry i haven't been blogging much, I've missed posting, it seems to have become a "part of me" i sit on the bus to uni and come up with weird and wonderful ways of describing the things I'm seeing, i seem to notice the way words are used more than ever, i seem to have an insatiable need to write/type. Yet i just haven't had the time, the majority of my time goes to experimenting at Uni, or looking for participants to experiment! my sleep cycle has been so messed up i seem to go to sleep and wake up a different time everyday. I come home from Uni totally knackered, and the work load only seems to increase! The only thing which keeps me going is the thought that in 3 months i will have finished Uni, after hardship comes ease right? I have a list as long as my arm of all the things i want to do when i graduate, not huge life changing events like travel the world but little things: write a short story, paint a painting, finish my family tree which i abandoned a few years ago, learn the English meaning of the prayer, maybe set up a small business and so on so forth. Oh and of course spend more time blogging! But for the moment all that's on hold, I've got 3 months of Uni left and at the end of the 3 months i want to feel like i tried my damned hardest in all my exams and especially my dissertation. So in the mean time i want to let you know that blogging will be sporadic at it's best, non existent at its worst. Although i do have several topics i want to blog about so i will try to blog at least every week, (including the learning to embroider finale!) but for now dear readers i wish you the most kindest of adieu...

A kodak moment...

2008-02-21T20:57:00.003Z

So there I was walking along Market Street on my way to uni, when I saw a photographer ardently focussing on something. Now, common courtesy dictates that one does not come in between the photographer and their subject, as I walked round her I turned to look at her object of focus. What I saw, was so simple yet so profound, it made me stop for a brief moment, I wanted to be in the place of the photographer, I would have loved to call that picture my own. What I saw was the personification of innocence, in the form of a girl of no more than five years of age, with hair of the purest blonde and a coat of the sweetest pink, stood with her back to the camera. She was staring up at a shop window, full of perfectly proportioned mannequins clad in barely there swimwear. Immediately I was struck with how perfect an epitome it was of today’s society, a society in which there is a distorted perception of beauty, a society in which young children deem this perception to be correct…

The bigger picture...

2008-02-18T10:47:00.007Z

(RoaR, this post is for you who "isn't into that [creative] kinda stuff", you won't find an atom of creativity in here :) except for perhaps in the language ;))

So there I was sat on the train home from Uni reading the Manchester evening news, when I came cross the article that prompted this post. When I initially read it, it made laugh because of the pure absurdity of it. Yet after thinking about it for a little while it prompted me to “reminisce” (if that is the correct word to use in this context) about other similar stories. The nature of the story of course are “Islamic” in nature, however in this post I’m going to use it to illustrate a much bigger problem: that of not looking at the whole picture, not looking at both sides of the coin if you will, (or whatever other cliché you want to apply) before people open their mouths.

The article in question was about a comment made by MP Phil Woolas who is “under fire after warning about birth defects in marriages between Pakistani first cousins” (M.E.N. Thursday 12th of Feb). At first I just brushed it aside, but as I thought about it more and more it angered me that people hadn’t bothered to look at the whole picture before opening their vocal cavities. It wasn’t the article per se that angered me (as it is based on facts and I do agree with it somewhat) it was the opinion section of the newspaper and the journalist who had written a piece regarding the topic. Apparently 30% of all British children born with recessive disorders are of Pakistani ethnicity (Considering 3.4% of all children born in Britain are British Pakistani). So what about the other 70% of children born with recessive disorders??. And what about the hundreds of marriages between first cousins that don’t result in children with birth defects? The journalists agreed with Woolas’s comments as she believed “it encourages the real defect of extremism to be passed from generation to generation”. At first this comment angered me for obvious reasons, however then I actually pitied the author for she clearly isn’t aware of the fact that there is no “extremism gene” that passes down from generation to generation, She clearly does not know that extremism is not a family trait (in fact in the majority of cases its outside influences at play). However I do commend the author for mentioning the fact that the very monarchy of this country “keeps it in the family” as do orthodox Jews.

At this point I’d like to say for (all those smart alecs who are going to say that I myself are not looking at the whole picture), that the same problem runs on both sides. Mr Woolas’s comments have been labelled as Islamophobic (by the Muslim public affairs council), that really cracked me up, I had to laugh at that. In what way is it Islamophobic? How is that attacking Islam? (In fact it’s not even really attacking Pakistani’s either it’s a health warning…how bad can that be??) The comment is in regards to the Pakistani CULTURE not the RELIGION of Islam (the differences in culture and religion is a whole other debate although Islam does allow marriages between cousins...)

Personally I agree that marriages between first cousins can lead to birth defects, however as the statistics imply not all of them do and dare I say they are probably far and few in between. Anyway back to the point in hand why couldn’t people have just looked at the bigger picture before commenting, why are they unable to look at both sides of the argument then make an informed and well balanced opinion? And not just for “Islamic issues” but everything, in this case it is probably likely that Woolas was simply giving a health warning as opposed to “attacking” the Pakistani community, isn’t he then in fact doing us a favour? (In his own odd way…). In fact that brings to mind another annoyingly irksome trait prevalent in the world wide Muslim community…that of blowing things totally and utterly out of proportion…

Which do you live in?

2008-02-11T11:47:00.002Z

I don't know if anyone has come across this poemy thing before but it was in the ikea catalogue thingy which we got in the post, it's also on their T.V. advert. I liked so i thought i'd put it up, with a bit of personalistation... :) enjoy

P.S. I did it in word and then pasted it onto paint to turn it into an image so thats why its a bit fuzzy...

One of those days...

2008-01-29T21:19:00.001Z

Ok this happened yesterday, i typed it up yesterday too but the internent was being temperamental so here it is today...

I seem to have underestimated the amount of work required for the essays. Ok I know they were 1000 words long but the research was endless in fact I was still doing one this morning, the day they were due in. I’ve had a nightmare of a day so sit back and bask in my misfortune…

I was up at seven ( ok may not seem early but it is to me even when waking up for fajr I go back to sleep) starting my third and final essay, I was exhausted, staring at a laptop screen for so long is not recommended… Anywho I got the essay printed off and ready to go. I got to uni at half 1 (the deadline was by 2) I was filling in the cover sheet, and read the notice that we have to fill in a cover sheet for all three essays, great(!) it was then I realized that I hadn’t printed off two copies. So off we trudge to the library to photocopy 15 pages one by one, joy. Got back and commenced in filling in of the cover sheets, all three of em. Handed it all in 2 on the dot, great relief but my body was all achy, next stop: pray, and then head home with a tuna sub from subway mmmm. Get bus, go to town centre see subway, go in, order sandwich, nice lady asks do I want a drink, yes please! Pay for drink and sub and head to train station. Walking to train station thinking how busy town centre is and how multicultural Manchester is ( totally random thought I know but it really is!!), begin to feel thirsty, great, forgot to get drink from subway, didn’t have the energy to go back, carried on walking I’ll be home soon I can get a drink then. Get to the train station. Go to the right platform train was there get on and relax ahhhhh. Settle down to read the Manchester Evening News, Gosh a woman was run over by a tram poor her, oh she’s recovering well in hospital that’s good. Trains started to slow down, hmm it’s a bit early for it to slow down, I look up and see the Salford central sign….wait that can’t be right can it?? Oh damn I’ve got the wrong train quick get of now!! I step of and need to take in my surroundings, I forgot how weird it felt to be in unfamiliar surroundings, I had to admit I didn’t know what to do where do I go? How do I get to the other side of the platform?? Ok let’s follow that creepy looking tunnel, oh actually it’s not that creepy after all, it has floor lights, ah there it is the entrance to the other platform. Next trains in 5 minutes ok I can do that lets sit down on this here bench and take in the surroundings…..Ten minutes later back in Manchester city centre sat on the RIGHT train soaking in the nice warmness. Five minutes later, decide to ring mum to see if she can pick me up from the train station after work yep she can. Get to train station 3.35, let’s wait for mum. 3.45 where is mum?? 3.50 see mums green Honda civic on the round about, I am now officially frozen and can not feel my feet. I am truly and utterly fed up. Only when I get to nice warm house and a yummy tuna sub am I in a much more amicable mood :). Ok as a treat for listening to me moan on about my crappy day I’m going to put up several posts for your viewing pleasure so sit back and enjoy :)….

Look what i found...

2008-01-29T20:51:00.002Z

The other day I was looking for something at the back of our store room and came across a Sainsbury’s bag full of goodies…I found some of my mums old sewing patterns and some pages from an embroidery book from Pakistan, i was like a kid in a sweet shop!!

This ones from 1992, i like the pictures

This ones from 1989, i was only three years old!

For some reason this next one looks the oldest, but it's actually the newest, 1996

It's got a bag patteren in it might try out...

Some pics from the embroidery book:

There was quite a few more pages, and some of the designs were really nice, this will definitly be a reference for future embroidery projects

Links-R-Us

2008-01-29T20:29:00.001Z

Heres some interesting artsy craftsy links i've come across on my recent voyage through the blogosphere:

U-handbag: The ultimate handmade bag blog. Lisa Lam, The woman who has set up the blog also has her own shop selling all the fixtures and fittings you need to make your own bags, from everyday totes to fancy clutche's it's there or here to be more precise.

Teakster: A muslim artist, specializing in computer graphics i quite like the style of the stuff. You can see his by clicking on the gallery button. Also of interest is Project Suwar an online magazine created by the artist with the aim of showcasing muslim artwork and literary compilations, you can download that in the download section in the gallery, i would definitely recomend it, the photography in there is amazing.

The Random cat: This (Ymiss and Mishy) is the cute website i was telling you about. I absolutely love the animation the prayer one doubles up as being educational too!. But the illustrations in the portfolio are amazing, the thing i love about them is that it's such a unique style to be seen in islamic art, particularly in the field of childrens literature as the artisit has done so. The artisits also done a parody of a self help book, slightly disturbing but it works.

Learning to embroider #2

2008-01-22T12:27:00.005Z

Exams are finished (finally), so apart from 3 1000 word essays due in next Monday blogger has my undivided attention for a while, thus i will be updating quite regularly for a few weeks because... well i have alot of stuff to blog about. But first things first Learning to embroider part 2 ( part 1 is here).

I didn't really get to do much cause of exams, but i did purchase an embroidery hoop and some proper embroidery needles which made my work MUCH neater. The needle i had before was abit too chunky for embroidery, i only used it because it was the only needle in the house that had a big enough eye to fit embroidery thread through. Sooo...

First i did a border on the two remaining borderless edges, i took this from the blue border i did on LTE #1, it was the first two steps, i like the simplicity of them on their own...

Next i used a design from the book, which was numbers, i like the style of these, but i changed the colours from the book:

Since scanning this i've also added a little frame around the numbers

That's about it really, but i have started embroidering again, as of last night and my white piece of fabric is filling up nicely, so LTE #3 will be much more interesting

Boys of Baghdad high ( A.K.A fortune part one)

2008-01-13T23:00:00.002Z

Anyone heard about that BBCiplayer thingy? It’s this online thing which lets you watch any programmes that you’ve missed. I was on the BBC website and saw the advert for this programme called Boys from Baghdad high, basically four boys from Baghdad (the capital of Iraq) were given a video camera to film their everyday lives. The concept seemed really interesting and I wondered why I hadn’t heard of it, then I realised it was probably aired at some ridiculously obscure hour in the morning. So I turned to BBCi player to watch it, it took about 12 mins to download and it was ready to go. This isn’t really a review of the programme it’s just my feelings on the programme which went from one extreme to the other!

The programme followed four 18 year old boys Ali (a Kurdish Sunni Muslim), Hayder (a Shia Muslim), Anmar (a Christian) and Mohammad (Half Sunni and half Shia (at the time I was a bit confused at this, it was later revealed that his dad was a Sunni and his mum a Shia)) The boys are all good friends and we follow them in their final year of high school in 2006, which coincides with when Saddam got captured and executed. What affected me the most about the programme was how the war had affected their everyday lives. Their revision is interrupted by gun fire, their new year celebrations come to an abrupt halt as a car drives past shooting random bullets, Anmar’s Christmas sermon is overlooked by a gaping hole blown in the wall of the church, Mohammad’s happiness at hearing the safety of one friend is interposed with the news that another of his friends have died. You smile with them as you watch them doing the everyday things that teenage boys do, yet you find yourself crying at the things they go through which no teenage boy should have to go through. One particularly touching scene was when we learnt that Ali was going to move to Kurdish Iraq as it’s much safer there, we see Mohammad and Ali messing about in the garden knowing that it was probably the last time they see each other. Another thing which struck me was one of the boy’s mum saying something along the lines of, “at least when Saddam was alive we had a leader, no matter how bad a leader he was, now there’s no one”.

One of the other reasons why I totally loved this programme was because it made me realise how damn lucky I am, I mean the only thing I have to deal with when revising is my brother coming in my room at random intervals asking for the laptop, when I leave the house I don’t have to worry about being killed, when I say goodbye to my friends I don’t have to contend with the fact that I may never see them again. It made me feel truly and utterly grateful for everything God’s given me. It made me recall to mind the saying “look to those less fortunate than yourself rather than those more fortunate”, It really does make you appreciate what you have rather than be envious of what you haven’t got.

(by the way i've put fortune part one in the title, the reason why will become clear in fortune part two...)

Learning to embroider #1

2008-01-07T12:21:00.003Z

Armed with Doodle Stitching, a piece of white fabric, a chunky needle and some bargain embroidery thread (20 skeins for £2.99 from Wilkinson, Bargain!) I embarked upon my embroidery “voyage”. At first I just practised the different stitches:

This took forever, I just couldn’t get a lot of the instructions (that’s probably not Aimee Rays fault it’s probably my dopiness). Next I thought I’d try one of the more simple designs in the book which was actually a border for a top, but I did it across the bottom of my trusty white piece of fabric.

This was actually a good way to practice the stitches, my chain stitch and scallop stitch improved a lot. I also realised that embroidery is a long term thing. I mainly do it when I’m doing something else like watching TV or whatever, cause each design takes quite a while to finish. Next up I thought I’d try something more advanced, which was flowers using the lazy daisy and satin stitch:

This design was definitely time consuming!! Probably because it was my own design (the book shows how to do flowers but it was my design) First I did the vines, then the leaves, then the petals, then the centres and I had my first taste of embroidery with multiple colours!!, it definitely took a while to get the hang of changing colours all the time, it got so annoying tying each colour off then starting a new one. So after completing this design I decided to take a little break from embroidery, it kinda drained me!! By now however I decided that I would fill my white piece of fabric up with different embroidery designs so tune in next time for more embroidery antics!

Mishy's Tag grumble

2008-01-06T15:27:00.000Z

Ok I became determined to do this tag after the reactions to this post , Also i’m scared of the tag monster who will hunt me down and chop of my fingers(!), it took me a while to think of seven, but think of seven I did!...

I’m not one to be scared of creepy crawlies like spiders and stuff. At all. I mean see it from their perspective they see a big beast a trillion times their size, which could crush them with one touch, I think I’d be bloody petrified
In a similar vain to the first one, unlike a lot of Pakistanis I’m not afraid of dogs. At all. Quite the opposite in fact, I find quite a lot of them cute…
Recently I seem to be obsessed by buttons, I think it’s cause I’ve seen their potential as a craft material, you can actually do a lot with them apart from sewing them on clothes as a fastening!, I’ve got my eye on some huge pink/green ones in Abakhans
I don’t seem to be able to cope with sugary stuff as much as I used to, I think my sugar threshold has decreased or something. The other day I had barely eaten a third of a snickers before my face began to squirm and writhe, I used to be able to eat a whole one of those and still crave more sugar, *sigh* I think I’m getting old…
I don’t know why but I seem to have an aversion to wearing coats, I force myself to wear one when I go to uni as there’s nothing more shiver inducing than waiting for the train in winter. However when it comes to going anywhere else I avoid wearing a coat, I don’t know why, I think it has something to do with finally accepting that winter is here…I don’t like winter :(
I don’t like side salads, I like to eat my salad as meal by itself or perhaps as a starter but, not with other food.
This being the final year of uni our exams are essay questions, in the previous years they’ve been mainly multiple choice and perhaps an essay question thrown in here or there. It may sound weird but I’ actually prefer essay questions to multiple choice, I mean MCQs are so damn hard!!! You go about the usual method of elimination process then you always end up with two options, which drive you crazy!! With an essay you can ramble on and still get a decent mark, there’s no fixed yes/no answer, some essays can be answered by virtually any aspect of the topic that’s been covered…

There you go, are we happy now!??

Oh by the way check this blog out it cracked me up...

"How leisure came”

2008-01-03T22:10:00.002Z

I was reading a journal article on the constructionist theory of how we construct inferences whilst reading narrative text for my language acquisition text and the authors quoted an amusing little ditty to use as an example (of how and which inferences we draw from text). It's a parable thing by Ambrose Bierce i couldn't find it in the references anywhere so don't really know much about it, it's called "How Leisure came", quite an appropriate title i think...

Moral of the story: Haste makes waste!

Films, Films, Films

2008-01-03T22:05:00.000Z

This is what happens when you don't stay on top of blogging about the things you want to blog about, i watched Golden Compass and didn't get chance to do a review, then i watched The Pretsige didn't get round to doing that review either and so on so forth until about a months worth of films have piled up without being reviewed, so here's a mini review of Decembers films.... (in order of viewing)

The Golden Compass: Me and Ymiss went to see this with two Northern Light virgins, so it was up to us to gasp in shock at the discrepancies between the book and the film. However picking a film apart really does ruin it so after a while we stopped, it was then we were pulled into the Lyra’s world. However it just wasn’t all that, I mean apart from the fact that it didn’t follow the book it just felt too rushed, you didn’t feel totally submersed into the world of daemons, I think this was largely due to the fact that so much background info was left out. Anyway a much more comprehensive review can be found here.

The Prestige: I loved this film very much, it was genius. It’s set in Edwardian England and follows the rivalry between two young magicians, to create the best trick. I’ll leave it at that it’s just genius, probably because I didn’t spot the twist in the tale until it was shown, but once you know it all fits together perfectly… again a much more comprehensive review can be found here

March of the penguins: This film follows a caravan of penguins on their miraculous journey from the sea to their breeding grounds, a journey fraught with difficulties. The Penguins trudge through the Antarctic snow to reach the place where they were born in order to lay their own eggs. It’s almost unreal at how many difficulties they face, the parents go without food for months, they endure bitter, sub zero temperatures all for their single chick, which could die in a matter of seconds if left out in the cold. Morgan Freeman was the perfect narrator for this film, as you followed his narration you felt sadness at the penguin’s grief and smiled at their success. This film definitely does a good job of making you realise how amazing animals really are.

Casino Royal: This film clearly cost a lot, and it was clearly a total and utter waste of money. What a rubbish film!! At the end of the film I was left thinking “what a rubbish story line!!”, it had a very loose plot which was embellished with lots of stunts, attractive women, and breath taking locations, with a pathetic excuse of a twist at the end…(pah)

Surfs up: For a film about an emperor penguin from “Shiverpool” who likes to surf, this was a pretty good film! It was done in a reality documentary type style which is a different yet effective approach to animated films. The animation was also very well done, and at times I wanted to be on the beaches in the film, they looked so good!! However after watching it you are left with an urge to go surfing, then you realise that the chances of you going are pretty much nil..

Umrao Jaan: Think of this as the Indian version of Memoirs of a Geisha, it’s a very sad film which chronicles the life of a girl stolen from her parents and thrusted into the world of dancing girls. I love the period feel of this film, it’s set in the Muhgal period (I think..) and that’s portrayed brilliantly through the set and outfits. A very good film but very sad.

Hairspray: Just the mention of this film brings a smile to my lips, I loved it!! It was so unbelievable corny but I loved it!, and it comes free with it’s own moral message too!!

Ymiss’s tag

2007-12-16T14:50:00.000Z

Ok seven things I’m currently doing tag courtesy of Ymiss (don’t worry Mishy, I’m working on yours I’ve thought of 4 weird things so far…)

Trying to get into a revision rhythm. I start the day eager to revise then slowly my eagerness fades and the smallest of distractions make me lose concentration…
Reading The Psychology of Harry Potter, given to me by ShuShu. It’s really interesting so far…
Looking forward to going to Belgium, my cousin has got engaged (Finally!) and so we will be going there for the wedding. I don’t know when but as long as we get to go, I’m happy.
Teaching myself to embroider with the help of doodle stitching (will blog about that soon)
Like Ymiss I am currently drooling over a few things, hoping that they will go on sale
Thinking of summer. I seem to be doing this quite often lately (every time I leave the house/look out of the window), particularly as I plan to read a lot of books, make lots of things and go to lots of places.
I have this song in my head, this boy at work listens to it every week, over and over and over…

A trip to Urbis....

2007-12-11T14:33:00.001Z

Me and Ymiss went to Urbis last week, we were actually intending to visit the craft markets held in the Urbis foyer. However we were left slightly disappointed with what was on offer, the only gasp causing thing was this button stall where the designer had made loads of different jewelry out of buttons. Altogether it only took us about 20 minutes to walk around the stalls, and we were left with a good few hours still on our hands so we thought we'd have a look at the other exhibitions that were on. The first exhibition was called "hacienda 25" which is supposed to be some legendary night club or something... needless to say we didn't really stay there long, the only moderately interesting thing was this wall were people had put up their confessions... So up the stairs we went to the second exhibition, and what are we greeted with??...

That's right a giant pencil :), after taking pictures of Ymiss doing various poses we saw the "Please do not touch" written on the floor (you can't see it in the pics, it's actually on the other side of the pencil). The next thing we see...

A giant tape measure plus a giant roll of masking tape in the background!!, Pretty soon we had enough giant stationary to put together a giant pencil case (handmade of course!)

chop! chop!, and to top it all off....

....A humongus pink stabilo boss highlighter of course! complete with it's own highlighted line, I'm not sure about all the other stationary but the pencil is the trophy used in "The best advertising and design in the world", which was the title of the exhibition, and dotted amongst the giant stationary were the winners of the categories, at least i think they were the winners, it didn't really say... First up, a lego advert...

This is an adorable remake of Lunch atop a skyscraper by Charles C. Ebbets, It's soo cute!! i know the photos small but the poster was massive had to move WAY back to get it all in, now the more serious adverts which really stop and make you think...

These pictures are from a German campaign, raising awareness of war orphans, what i've just realised is that the bullets are all on the parents, something i didn't notice when we actually saw them.. However it is these next adverts that really make you stop and think...

Just in case it's not clear it says "It's not happening here. But it's happening now" on each of the pictures, i love the way they've put something which is happening hundreds of miles away in a street we might see everyday. Anyway i don't think i need to write much about these, they speak for themselves, or as the caption said...

Tagged?...i think not...

2007-11-28T23:12:00.000Z

Mishy tagged me with the "weird things about you" tag, I've already done that tag you can find it here ;)

Planning for the future

2007-11-21T23:10:00.001Z

Today our University campus was busy with college students and their parents taking tours around the university, cause today it was the psychology departments open day.
On the bus home i was sat near some college students who were discussing the trials and tribulations of college.
Whilst walking up the hill which separates my house from the bus stop i pondered over how just a few years ago i was in the place of all the people i had seen today. It amazed me how much i had changed since college and even from the first year of uni!, the memory of my younger self made me smile, i missed myself, but i'm happy about the way i am now too. When i saw the fresh faced college students looking in awe at the university buildings i remembered, myself in that position, being totally oblivious to the essay deadlines, the exams, the constant reminders from the library to return books, the travelling which awaited me.
Three years on and i don't regret a minute of it, even leaving my essays till the day before to start! i mean how else would i have discovered my surprising ability to cobble together an essay worthy of a 2:1 in a day! or even knowing how spending that little bit extra time can push my grade up to a first...
Now i find myself thinking of the inevitable, what i'm going to do when i leave Uni? For the past three years i've been going through uni with the intention of becoming an educational psychologist. Recently ive been playing with the idea of completeing a PGCE, as most educational psychologists have been teachers, or at least trained as a teacher, as it kind of adds another dimension to your psychological perspective. You know the things kids have to learn, thus as a psychologist you are better able to come up with methods to maximize the childrens learning potential. Then i went from toying with the idea to filling in an application form, however when it got to the personal statement part, the bit were you tell the uni how your life has been spent preparing to go to their uni, the bit where you answer the "why teaching" question, i was stumped. My answer to that question was " but i don't want to teach...", i really don't have that burning desire to teach, or even to do a PGCE.
Then i decided that i don't want to study further at all, not a PGCE not a Masters in education psychology, nothing. I've studied at Uni for three years, spent two years at college, and ten years at school, thats enough, i'm ready to enter the "working world". I want to finish Uni and get a job, not study some more. So far the jobs that i have had have all been part time, allowing me to have several jobs at once, and still have free time, so maybe i'll get a few part time jobs, at least i won't get bored! and my burning desire? perhaps one day to start my own kinda business thingy selling handmade stuff, you know like bags, purses, brooches n stuff. Well that's, what i want to do anyway, lets wait and see what God's got in store for me:)

P.S. Actually there is one degree i wouldn't mind doing, that's a degree in embroidery at Man Met uni. I mean it's not just embroidery but it's like an art form!! you get to exhibit you work at galleries and museums, and everything! how cool would that be....one day...one day)

Tote bag tutorial

2007-11-20T22:33:00.000Z

Okey doke here goes with the tote bag tutorial, it’s kind of a medley of tutorials I found on the internet (I can’t source any of them cause I can’t remember them, if you’ve got a bag tutorial on your site chances are I’ve read it!), with a bit of my own touches thrown in. The thing that amazed me most when I actually got it was the whole step shown in Fig. 5. and 6, it’s the easiest way of making a “roomy” bag as it creates a square bottom without having to actually cut one out and sew it on!! Also if you’re going to do a complicated design or something on your bag its best to use four pieces of fabric (as opposed to the two used in this tutorial i.e. two for the outer fabric and two for the lining). If the design you’ve got in mind is something simple like just sticking a flower in the corner then I suppose you could still use two pieces. Oh yeh I’ve drawn little diagrams too, after all a picture = a thousand words right?..

I’m not going to use measurements for this tutorial as the measurements in tutorials are never the ones you use (well for me anyway). Basically you need one rectangle of your outer fabric and one rectangle the same size for the lining (these will be folded in half, so you want the measurements to be double the size of what you want your final bag to be). For the strap you want two equal sized strips, again these will be folded in half lengthways so you want the width to be double the size of your final strap width. (See Fig.1. for what you need)

Let’s start with the straps and get them out of the way. You need to take each strap and fold it in half lengthways so the wrong side of the fabric is on the outside, then stitch the open length up whilst leaving the top and bottom open (see Fig.2. on Fig.2 I actually drew the stitches on both sides, but if you’ve folded it you only have to stitch up the open side, NOT both, just the open side). Do this for both straps. You then need to turn each strap inside out so the right side is facing outwards, the easiest way to do this is to turn the bottom of the strap upwards, so abit of the right side is showing. Then carry on pushing the strap inside itself, it’s kinda hard to explain but you’ll get it when you do it.

Now the bag itself, take one of the rectangles and fold it in half width ways, so the wrong side of the fabric is facing outwards (see Fig.3.). You can iron the fold if you want to and then you need to sew each of the sides, once you’ve done this for both the lining and outer fabric you should have something similar to Fig .4.

Now this is quite a tricky step to understand but when you’ve got the bag in front of you, it’s easier to get. Take one of the bag pieces and put it in front of you, hold it from the front with one hand and the back with the other hand. Now pull the front and back apart and turn the bag to the right, so you have something like Fig.5. (With the seam showing being the one you sewed in Fig.4.) Make sure both sides are equal looking and neaten the bag up as much as you can.

Now from the bottom point you need to measure an inch and a half upwards then draw a line across, put a pin on the line to make sure it stays put (making sure you don’t go through to the back of the fabric). Fig.6. indicates where you should draw the line across and then you need to sew across the line. Make sure you don’t sew all the way through the fabric as you need to repeat the step on the other side of the fabric, as well as for both sides of the lining. So you should have sewn four lines across, two on the outer fabric and two on the lining fabric.

After you have done the above step you can turn the bag to its normal shape i.e. the two side seams are on the side rather than in the middle (it should look something like the dark green bag in Fig.7.). Now you need to turn the lining back inside out, so the right side is facing outwards, but keep the outer bag with the wrong side outwards. You then need to place the lining inside the outer bag as shown in Fig.7. Line up the side seams of both bags and pin in place if you want.

Then take the straps and insert them between the lining fabric and the outer fabric, with an inch or so of the handles poking out on each side (see Fig.8.) Pin in place and sew a seam along the top edge, as indicated by the dashed line in Fig.8. However leave a few inches open so you can turn everything inside out (indicated by the solid line in Fig.8.) it doesn’t have to be between the handles it can be wherever you find it easy. Almost done!!

Now pull the lining out of the bag and turn the whole thing inside out, it’s quite a shock to see it all come together. If you’re going to be using the bag quite often, or are going to use it to carry heavy things then you may want to reinforce the handles, using a box and cross type design as shown in Fig. 9.

Now you need to sew up the gap you left, fold the raw edges inwards and pin/iron in place. Then sew a ladder stitch on the raw edges (as in Fig 10), ensuring the seam doesn’t show on the outside of the bag. You should now have something that hopefully resembles a fully lined and bottomed tote bag!! (Something along the lines of Fig .11!)

If anyone tries this out then let me know how it goes, it’d be good to know how successful my first tutorial is!!

The curious incident of the dog in the night time

2007-11-18T22:31:00.000Z

This book is really unlike anything i've read before (i know i've probably said that before but this really is!). Or as Mishy puts it, "it's unique with a capital U", indeed it is Mishy... indeed it is...

As the book's narrator (fifteen year old Christopher Boone) puts it, its a "murder mystery novel", not that i've read much murder mystery novels, but this one is clearly different. You see, Christopher Boone has Aspergers syndrome, (which is part of the autism spectrum), and i think i've learnt more from this book regarding AS than from any of my psychology lectures. One night Christopher Boone sees his neighbours dog stabbed to death with a garden fork, he then sets out to find the culprit and writes his discoveries down in a book (i.e. the book you're reading). Along the way, not only does he discover who the murderer is but he learns all is not quite as it seems regarding the people around him, and thus he sets out on what may seem to us a pretty much simple journey, but to him it's the most life changing episode he has encountered so far.

The amazing thing about this book is how Christopher's thought processes are presented to the reader, his thinking is so different from people without AS, it's fascinating! I mean it seems so distorted at first as he jumps from one thing to another, but then you realise it's actually quite logical in a way we would have never thought. What's even more intriguing is how extraordinarily intelligent he is, i mean his maths skills left my mouth hanging! However it's Christopher's lack of empathy and inability to identify with aspects of human life that leaves those around him exasperated and unable to cope. I think reading about how Christopher's condition impacts on those closest to him is the most saddest characteristic of an otherwise curiously amusing novel.

This book really has given me a detailed insight into AS and Mark Haddon has done an excellent job in portraying Christopher and his personality traits. I would truly recommend this book to anyone who is likely to meet people with AS as it really does allow you to take a look into the world of someone with AS.

Fabric...

2007-11-16T21:58:00.000Z

Went to Abahkhans in Manchester today, it's an amazing shop crammed full of fabrics, buttons, ribbons and lots of other lovely crafty things that made Ymiss shake with excitment :). It made me realise how i love fabric shopping, even if i don't by any!!, just looking at the vast amounts of prints, designs and colours made me happy!!. However i didn't always have this love affair with fabric, I remember when i was younger i used to despise going to fabric shops with my mum, i hated it with a passion. When my mum did manage to force me to go with her, i anticipated the moment i would get out of the shop and breathe fresh air, i can't believe i used to be like that! anway Ymiss should we do the fabric swap thing?? should we say about 10 different fabrics? to be swapped whenever we next see each other? i'l leave with some amazing photos i found on clip art...

Stardust

2007-11-14T23:43:00.000Z

Quaint, thats the word i was looking for, this films quaint, it's cute, it's charmingly delightful, If it was a child i'd want to pinch it's rosy cheeks and ruffle it's curly hair. It's a curiously pleasant tale following the adventures of Tristan, who promises his love (Victoria), that he would bring back a fallen star in order to prove his love for her. However the star has landed in Stormfold a mysterious "other world" (which is a strange cross between Bronte-esque English moors and Arabian nite-esque markets) on the other side of the "wall" which no one is allowed to pass, obviously our hero does manage to pass and thus begins his quest to find and bring back the "fallen star". Throw in some hideously ugly witches, some entertaining princes (who are ghosts by the way) , and a bunch of pirates who "sail the sky", hunting "lightning"under the rule of their camp captian and you have stardust. It's one of those simplistic fantasy films that encompasses all the things childhood dreams are made of. It's the story of good overriding evil, of love conquering all, and all that other soppy stuff which causes that warm-fuzzy feeling inside. Ok I'm going to stop now before i fall asleep on my laptop g'd nite all.....

Race issues #1

2007-11-13T22:09:00.000Z

In my first year of uni I remember in one of the lectures the lecture said something along the lines of “I don’t agree with the word racism, after all we are all one race... the human race” Now this lecturer is notorious for being mind-numbingly boring, but that one sentence made me give him just that bit more respect because it rings so true!

What perplexes me is that how one psychologist can be so frank as to say something so blindingly obvious, whereas others don’t seem to go by the same logic... let me elaborate...

For my third year project one of the things I’m investigating is the “cross race effect” aka the “other race effect”. Basically this is the phenomenon whereby you are more likely to remember and pay attention to a face of the same “race” as you, as opposed to a face which is a different “race” to you. Example, a Pakistani person is more likely to pay attention to (and consequently remember) another Pakistani face better than... let’s say a Malaysian face and vice versa for a Pakistani person. There’s over thirty years of worldwide research in this area and not one person anywhere has brought up the fact that research is riddled with phrases such as “other race faces”. I mean what the hell is that supposed to mean anyway??, does it mean that those faces are aliens, or elephants perhaps, after all aliens are another race, so are elephants. HELLO!! *waves hand madly in the face of all those top notch psychologists* in case you hadn’t realised we’re all humans here!??

Anyway rant over, I’ve decided I don’t like the new banner it needs some tweaking...

Summer Reminiscence…

2007-11-07T22:27:00.000Z

I found this poem lying idly in my documents folder, I’ve had it for ages, I found it online somewhere and have had it ever since. The cute little embroidered flower came with it too...

I don’t know who wrote it or where it came from, it doesn't even have a title, but to the person who came up with it I’d like to say this, thanks for encapsulating summer, releasing it in the form of this poem, and allowing it to conjure up glorious memories :)

"Blackle.com - Saving energy one search at a time".

2007-11-05T22:13:00.000Z

"Blackle.com??" i hear you mumble. It's a new search engine powered by Google, it has a black screen as opposed to the white one as seen on Google. The theory behind it is that a black screen uses much less energy than a white screen, thus if the millions of people who use search engines everyday used one with a black screen (as opposed to a white one) then collectively we would all be using less energy and therefore through some long winded process be saving the planet by reducing the effect of global warming (i'm not being pessimistic or indeed skeptic of the whole idea i simply just don't know all the nitty gritty details......)

I really applaud the people who came up with the whole idea (a company called Heap media..), I mean considering how popular search engines are you could really make a difference in the amount of energy used. However one thing really confuses me...Instead of developing a whole new search engine that has a black background in order to save energy why not simply change the background colour of Google, or Ask Jeeves, or even Yahoo for that matter...?

Just think about all the trillions of people who use Google on a daily basis, not all of them are going to know about Blackle and maybe all of them never will. But if you just changed the background colour of Google they wouldn't have to find out about Blackle, do the same with Ask Jeeves and Yahoo and any other search engines and before you know it your saving loads energy without having to do much at all...

(i'm not criticising Blackle i really do think it's a good idea, i just think it could have been executed better...*sigh*)

Psychology and Islam

2007-11-04T19:41:00.000Z

Something i've been meaning to blog about for a while.....

I remember when I first decided I wanted to do psychology as a degree, several people were like “errr ….okaayyy then isn’t that supposed to mess your head up or something”, and a few people told me that their friend’s brother’s wife’s cousin or whatever had done it for a year and then decided to quit as it conflicted with their (Islamic) beliefs. Back then in college I didn’t really get the concept behind all these ideas but it came to me whilst I was sat in a lecture quite a while back. Psychologists come up with an explanation for every little thing that we do, for example you can’t even pick up a damn cup without a psychologist analysing it. Psychology is a vast area and there are millions of theories, models explanations etc of why we do the tiniest things, and how it happens, how we end up with mental/physical illnesses , how we perceive things, how we mentally process things and the list is totally endless. Anyway the point I’m trying to make is that psychology is made up of explanations, whereas Islam teaches that every single thing on the planet is in existence purely because Allah wills it. An example: If someone developed a mental illness a psychologist would try to explain the cause of the illness using various theories i.e. perhaps they had a bad childhood, or maybe there’s a lesion in the bilateral hippocampal area of their brain (sounds clever doesn’t it ) etc but from an Islamic viewpoint we would accept the fact that it was that person’s fate to get that illness. Even if they had the best childhood and they tried every prevention method in the book they would have still developed it if it was Allah’s decree.
However I don’t think Psychology and Islam are total polar opposites, many a time I have sat in lectures and the lecturer has said the possible cause of an illness could be “X Y and Z” and I’ve thought “Well duuurr Islam forbids that anyway” i.e. drug/alcohol abuse, child abuse, bad relationships between significant others etc.
I think psychology only “messes your head up” when you begin to believe the more harebrained explanations, (I dread to think what would happen to the world if we all believed Freud’s theories!!).

More sewing...

2007-11-03T16:32:00.000Z

So for the sewing classes I’ve joined the tutor gave us a list of things we needed, you know the usual stuff, scissors, measuring tape, tailors chalk etc etc. I was merrily putting all the stuff in one of my bags until I came to the last thing on the list….a lever arch file, there was no way one of those was going to fit in ANY of my bags. So the solution to my problem?? I thought “hey I can make a bag!” so off I went to make a bag….. And the thing didn’t half take me ages to make!!
I think it’s because it was the first bag I’ve made and also I have occasional tendencies to do things my way, which isn’t necessarily the right way! I think my design specification was quite complicated too, I needed a strong bag, with a lining (which caused most of the trauma!), very spacious inside (thus needing side and bottom panels) and complete with strong handles which will withstand the weight of all the stuff inside. So the whole bag took about two weeks of sporadic sewing sessions to finish off, much longer than I had expected it to take!
I was impressed by the finished product, however I was left pondering over whether there was an easier/quicker way to make a spacious bag, plus lining and strong handles. Thus I embarked upon a virtual mission to find the ultimate tote bag tutorial (a spacious one, plus lining and strong handles of course), one that is short and sweet, clear and succinct and most of all is quick and easy!!
But alas it was not to be, maybe it was just me not “getting it”, but I couldn’t find one that I could understand. So my next step was to actually make a prototype bag following some of the tutorials I had found, which made the whole process a lot easier! But again most of the tutorials had something missing, for example one may not have strong/reinforced handles, others may not have enough depth. So I mixed and I matched and I added abit of my own random touches and I developed my own tutorial ….which will be coming very soon (heehee)…in the mean time I’ll leave you with a few pictures of my sewing bag…..

Sewing, Sewing and more Sewing

2007-11-01T16:28:00.000Z

“I thought you could already sew!?” my aunty responded when she found out I was joining sewing classes

“Well…Yeah….I can sew….I just need to…fine tune my technique...” I replied reassuringly.

I know the basics of sewing, I can use a sewing machine, I could make you a cushion, a brooch perhaps but when it comes to clothes I can’t do it without my mum. I know the “theory” behind it but when it comes to the “execution” I just can’t do it… I end up making mistakes, getting frustrated, having to unpick things (I’m not one to hate things but I HATE unpicking stitches) then getting even more frustrated and so it’s up to my mum to sort it all out. That’s why I haven’t really sewn anything major since, well since I started uni, I ended up hating sewing and it just annoyed me. But the start of Ramadan brought with it less time spent in front of the T.V. and on the computer, leaving more time for reading the Quran and other activities. So I thought I’d start sewing again. What started of as a little bit of appliqué (“shaped pieces of fabric sewn on a foundation fabric to form a design or pattern” (courtesy of Encarta dictionary, for you non-sewing types :)) became a whole wall hanging depicting the four seasons to give to the nursery where my mum works, it was also the very nursery I went to at a time when the world was a much bigger place *looks to Mishy and gives a knowing wink*. (sorry about the picture......it really is rubbish)

It so happened that at the same nursery some sewing classes were starting, which my mum enrolled me on (most likely to give someone else the joy of teaching me to sew clothes!). I have to say I LOVE IT. It reminds me of why I fell in love with sewing in the first place, I remember I was fascinated with how the simple act of a needle pulling thread could produce such amazing results.

After attending a few classes I’ve realised I am just “fine tuning” my technique. I’m learning the “proper” way of doing things rather than my own random made up ways, which aren’t that far from the proper methods anyway. Most of all though I don’t find sewing annoyingly and laborious, I’m enjoying it :D

The Little Things in Life

2007-10-18T08:34:00.001+01:00

Sometimes, when you’re having a rubbish day, you’re late for your lectures and things just aren’t going very well for you, it’s the little things that people do or say that make all the difference to your day…

After one of my lectures the other day (which I had turned up late for) I went to the toilets to sort out my hijaab. As I was pinning my scarf away another girl walked in. She was in my year and I’d spoken to her at the beginning of my first year (you know that time where you strike up random conversations with anyone in the hope of making a friend….) but since then we hadn’t really talked much. The first thing I noticed about her was her coat…..it was the same as mine. I looked at her through the mirror and her eyes met mine, for a brief moment waves of tension filled the room, just for a brief moment though, that is until both of us burst into a giggle simultaneously. (Just thinking about it now brings a grin to my face!!)

For our third year projects (similar to a dissertation) we have a project supervisor who as well as being our tutor, kind of guides us through the whole process of carrying out our experiments and writing it up etc. The first meeting I had was as a group, the second was one on one, which I turned up 10 minutes late for….Regardless of that, the meeting went well and we came up with a few ideas of what my project could be based on. After the meeting I went to the library to get some books after which I went to pray my zuhr. After praying I made my way to my lecture, found my friend, sat down, started talking and generally did all the things you do when you get to a lecture. The lecturer arrived a few minutes late (ha!) and began with a few announcements, the first about the essay deadline which had been misprinted, which we now had an extra few months to complete (woohoo!) The second announcement was that somebody in *insert lecturers name* project group has left their train ticket in her office so could they please pick it up after the lecture. Now when that lecturer’s name was mentioned a tiny bell rang somewhere deep down in my mind, why did that name sound so familiar? Then I realised it was my project supervisors name and a second later the lecturer mentioned my name. At first I thought “great I have to trudge over to the other building before I can go home”. However when I got to my project supervisors office and found out that she had to do a bit of detective work in order to find out which lectures I was in so she could pass the message on, my heart warmed…., here’s someone who I’ve only met twice in my life and she went to the trouble of ensuring I got my train ticket back. Ok so she probably could find out what lectures I was in by a few well placed clicks of the mouse but it was the thought that counted!, I mean it would have been far easier to chuck it in the bin….

You may remember the incident mentioned here, (if you can’t and you don’t want to read my essay here’s a concise summary: a muslim girl (who wears a hijaab) who attends the youth club where I work spat at me…repeatedly). Well after that incident the girl was obviously banned from the club, however the kids are wise to the fact that they’re likely to get banned after they misbehave so they “disappear” for a while. The girl in question was also wise to this and so we didn’t see her after the week the incident took place…until last week when she decided to come back. It was my turn to let the children in, so I was the first face she saw, or she would have if she had made eye contact, but she made a conscious effort to avoid me throughout the whole session. About an hour later she was playing pool with my colleague, it so happened that I walked past her as she was taking her shot. The pool cue ever so slightly brushed me, which caused her to erupt into a stream of apologies each more sincere than the last, which definitely was the last thing I was expecting. It wasn’t as if it has never happened before, the staff are always having to gently warn the kids to watch their cues, even if it does poke us we don’t make much of it as it’s always accidental. I looked into her eyes, and the part of me that likes to see abit of good in everyone, wanted to believe that she was apologising for spitting at me (that and somehow I don’t think she was apologising so much just for barely touching me with the pool cue) , in some ways all of me wants to think that. Not so I can say “ha! I got my apology”, but because I want her to realise what she did was wrong and for her to make a pact with herself, to never spit at anyone ever again, and if that was worth me getting spat at then so be it……

A box full of yummyness

2007-10-08T11:54:00.000+01:00

I've had this idea in my head for absolutely ages, but i just havn't had the chance to "execute" it. The idea? to bake a box of.... well loads of cakes and biscuits for Mishy as a birthday present, why Mishy? well she always seems to be fascinated everytime i make/cook something, so i thought a perfect present for her would be one that i've made myself, particularly as i knew it would be well appreciated. The original idea was to bake 20 different things seeing as she had turned 20, but to be honest when i was baking it all i totally forgot to count it out!! I had also planned to take arty farty pictures of everything...again picking up a camera was the last thing on my mind while i was cooking, so i've got two pictures, neither of which are very arty farty....

How everything was supposed to look before my reckless driving messed it all up....

Anywho, i've been requested to "put up" the recipes so here goes...

Fairy cakes

As soon as my sister saw these she yelled out "bakewell tarts!", she was adamant that i had made bakewell tarts. Ok i admit they do look like bakewell tarts but infact there not...it's just muffins with icing and a cherry on top. The muffin recipe is the same as the one i used here.. The Glace icing is just icing sugar mixed with warm water until you get the required consistency, i used about 5oz which iced about 10 cakes. To finish pop a cherry half on top! (or if you're feeling greedy a whole cherry!)

Shortbread

This was one of the first things i ever learnt how to cook in food technology and it is probably one of the easiest things to bake...

Ingredients

150g/6oz of plain flour
100g/4oz of butter
75g/3oz of caster sugar

Method

Mix together the flour and butter until it resembles breadcrumbs (in a simillar manner when making crumble)
Stir in the sugar and squeeze the mixture togther to form a dough, adding a couple of tablespoons of water if necessary
Roll the dough out onto a floured surface and use a biscuit cutter to get whatever shaped biscuits you want ( the trick with shortbread is not to handle the dough too much because it will ruin the "short" texture of the biscuits)
Place on a baking tray and cook (in a preheated oven for 170c or a very low heat) for 10-15 mins until a light golden brown
While they're still hot sprinkle a bit of caster sugar on top

Butterscotch cookies

Ingredients

100g/4oz of butter
100g/4oz of dark brown sugar
1 tablespoon of golden syrup
3 crushed weetabix ( we actually didn't have any weetabix so i used crushed crunchy nut instead)
150g/60z of self raising flour

Method

Beat together the sugar, the butter and the syrup
Stir in the weetabix and self raising flour
When a dough is formed take small handfuls of the mixture, roll into a ball and flatten onto the baking tray. These spread quite abit so make sure there is adequate space between them
Place in a preheated oven at 170c for about 10-15 mins until golden brown

Cookies

'Cus who doesn't love cookies!? I was slightly annoyed at the way the ones i made turned out. Seeing as i havn't made them for ages, i totally forgot i needed brown sugar (which i had used up for the butterscotch cookies) as well as dessicated coconut ( which my mum had used up for something or another...), but they tasted ok never the less

Ingredients

75g/3oz of butter
75g/3oz of soft brown sugar
one egg
150g/60z of self raising flour
50g/20z of dessicated coconut
75g/30z of chocolate chunks ( i prefer to buy chocolate then cut it up into chunks rather than having chocolate chips) i used both white and milk chocolate

Method

Mix together the butter and sugar, then mix in the egg
Add the flour, coconut and chocolate, mix well
When a dough is formed get a small handfull of the mixture and place it on the baking tray flatten slightly ( you can roll it into a ball first but cookies always look better when they're slighlty uneven around the edges). Again these will spread so leave some space around each one
Cook in a preheated oven at 170c for about 10-15 mins until golden brown

ALL DONE!!

A Published Author

2007-09-28T15:59:00.000+01:00

Yep that’s me. I am now officially a published author :D Ok it’s not a full length novel but it’s a start!
You may recall one of my earlier posts about Scribble magazine, a local creative writing magazine which showcases poems and stories submitted by people in the community(if not you can read it here). well every issue has a topic, the topic for the current issue is HAPPINESS. As soon as I read the word, the poem began forming in my mind, words were being formed into a poem almost instantly. At first I didn’t really bother with it in fact I didn’t really like the poem at all, but it lodged itself in my mind and constantly nagged me with its continual presence. So I reluctantly gave in and thought I would email it to the editor of the magazine. After a few initial email errors and a few months down the line I had totally forgotten about it only to find it had been published, you can read it for yourself here :D

I know it's a bit small but it just doesn't get bigger without being fuzzy, you can read the whole magazine online here

The Perfect Autumnal Dessert.....

2007-09-26T21:14:00.000+01:00

Even though we've now entered Autumn it seems to be the ideal time for pears and apple to be growing, they seem to be popping up everywhere (i mean apart from the supermarket...). The other day one of our neighbours gave us some of their homegrown apples and pears, they weren't totally ripe so we couldn't eat them as they were, so my mum assigned me the task of concocting a culinary delight with them...

So they're a bit bruised, they're irregular, they don't boast a shine worthy of a Colgate advert...but they're the way nature intended them to be...

Apple, Pear and Date Crumble

For the Crumble Topping:

75g/3oz of margarine
175g/6oz of plain flour
About two tablespoons of sugar ( i added brown sugar, but you can add white if you want)

Place the flour in a bowl, add the margarine and cut it up with a blunt knife (this prevents the margarine from melting with the heat from you're hands)

Chop it up unil you can't chop any more then start with your hands.... the technique is to face your palms upwards scoop some of the mixture into your hands then gently rub the mixture with your thumbs until the mixture ressembles breadcrumbs

Once it is bread crumb like add the sugar and mix it in gently without destroying the bread crumb like texture thingy...

For the Fruit Filling:

I used what's in the picture basically, so that's 5 apples and 4 pears,

You need to chop ( the size depends on how chunky you want the peices to be in the crumble) and peel the fruit and put it in a small pan with about a cup of water

Add some sugar, this depends on how sweet you want it and how sweet/sour your fruit is

Cook until the fruit is soft and has begun to puree, again this depends on your taste you can have it with some bite and leave the chunks quite big or you can go for the baby food option....

I also added some dried dates towards the end and some cinamonn for an autumn touch. You could also use berries, peach, apricots or whatever you want

Place the fruit in an oven proof dish and place the crumble on top, just sprinkle it don't press it down otherwise it won't be crumbly, it will be more of a stodgy texture...

Cook on a low heat in the oven until the top is golden, serve straight away with custard mmmm.....

Walking boots: £20.00, Combats: £8.00, View from Mount Snowdon: Priceless

2007-09-12T22:08:00.000+01:00

yes, yes i know it's been a while.....

I think the most fitting place to begin this post is the, incomprehensibly early start, 2.00 in the morning…..having only had two hours sleep I pondered how I was going to get to the top of Snowdon as I crawled out of bed on Saturday morning. Feelings of excitement, apprehension and of course lethargy rushing through me left me feeling slightly nauseous. Yet as I was battling with my headscarf in the bathroom mirror, I heard my mum coming down, I had to smile…only a parent would wake up at such an obscure hour to see their child off.

The plan was to meet at Ymiss’ house at 3.00, where a minibus would be coming to pick us up. After spending about 10 minutes parking, and having to double check I had actually locked the car, I finally got to her house. After picking us up the minibus’ next destination was Oldham and then on to Manchester. Once at Manchester however a long wait ensued, where we waited for over an hour for not only the coach but a few stragglers, who it turned out not only lived down the road but had had a pretty much full nights sleep ( although we weren’t complaining that much as we were entertaining ourselves perfectly fine :))

The coach journey lasted about 2 hours, excluding a random stop in the some scenic Welsh countryside (pictured to the right), where our guides met us, the coach driver drove off without us and then came back to pick us and the guides up to take us to our final destination. (it was here we also learnt that crocs are extremely trendy in Wales as not only was one of the guides wearing fluorescent green ones but a baby being pushed past in his pram was wearing some too)

We finally got to our destination and by now we were itching to get started, so much so that myself, Ymiss and the two other members of our little entourage made our way to the group that was to make an immediate start. Having been sat down for two hours, trudging up a steep mountain was abit of a shock to the system. The first section was quiet rocky, however it opened up to what I felt to be one of the best parts of the day. Everything that could be right was right, the sun was shining, the sky was a brilliant blue offset with cotton wool clouds, the views were absolutely astounding and the path ahead of us was perfect in every way. Looking behind us we could see shimmering lakes settled between the vastly magnificent mountainsides, to our right we could see a sheer, dark grey, rock face hidden in a cloud which gave it a sense of doom, we learnt from our guide that having had the most falls and deaths it was the most dangerous route, …it certainly looked it’s part.

We stopped for lunch (some delicious pasta cooked by Ymiss) on a little ledge type thing, which was surprisingly crowded. It was after lunch that the most gruelling part of the hike started, which lasted for about an hour, it was at this point that the incessant lying also started….. Not only had our guides made “we’re nearly there” as their mantra, but every other random stranger we passed was supposedly reassuring us by saying “only a bit more left, girls” or “not long to go now”. I can see that it was primarily for motivational purposes but it puts a dampener on the whole thing when that supposed half an hour left has still not been reached…an hour later!! And it’s bloody annoying too!!

However as soon as we reached the summit all was forgotten, almost suppressed even, as everybody was on a high (literally!!). At first it was slightly disappointing seeing as the only thing we could see was clouds, clouds and more clouds, but then the fact that we had done it had finally sunken in and everybody was bouncing about. The icing on the cake was when the organisers pulled out a make poverty history banner and we all posed for a picture…you don’t see that everyday on Mount Snowdon.

And so the descent begins, everybody was still buzzing from having reached the top and having passed the hardest part of the hike, me and Ymiss were enjoying teasing “THE tart” (for valid reasons of course!!!) and there was general laughter and merriment in the air. The only downer was that we were engulfed in a cloud, which contrary to popular belief wasn’t fluffy and soft, it was cold and damp, which meant it was time for the waterproofs to make an appearance. However the high was to become a low, as we were trundling down hill we heard a voice saying there’s been an incident, we could just about make out a hijabi in the mist, it wasn’t clear who but it was definitely one of our lot. At first we thought it was a joke, nothing major, but as we drew closer we could discern an immobile figure lying on the ground. A mixture of blood and sand masked her face. A hush descended on the group and the only voices that could be heard were of the guides and a few of the girls who clearly knew what to do (we later found out that one of them was a nurse and one a medical student). The girl who had fallen was responsive and was aware of her surroundings which was a good sign so after a while the rest of the group continued while a few stayed with her, to wait for the train.

Up until now me and Ymiss had mingled with the other girls as it was an excellent opportunity to bond, however after the incident we clung on to each other (now that I think about it I don’t think we left each others side until we got to the coach….). Pretty soon we were on flat (albeit rocky) ground once more, and we could actually see the blue sky again (as opposed to being IN the sky). Again our guide’s time estimates weren’t entirely accurate, When questioned about his time telling ability his reply was firm ( “but you wouldn’t have carried on if I had told you the truth”), okay maybe that would have been true but we’ll never know now will we….

After about an hour ambling along at a pleasant pace we reached civilisation, we entered a little villagey area which was cute, and truly signalled the end of our “quest”. Eventually we could see our coach and we knew we had done it…

The next morning I woke up with a goofy grin spread across my face , despite my achy legs, despite the fact that I couldn’t move an inch without wincing and grimacing, despite the fact that my face was smarting from the sunburn, despite all that.. I was glad that I did it, every bit of it…but most of all I’m glad I’ve done something to help those who need help the most, those who are less fortunate and aren’t as privileged as us….

The random countryside we stopped at

The sign at the random village place

Scenic view

A little waterfall trickling down

Another scenic one

The cloudy summit, i quite like this one...

View from the top, plus ymiss's boots

The piece de resistance :) ( said in a french accent of course)

The Lake District

2007-09-05T20:38:00.000+01:00

As we had visitors last week we did the usual touristy things that you never seem to do until you have relatives over from abroad, going to the Lake District was one of them. Last time we went we visited Lake Windermere, which is the closest one and only takes about an hour or so, this time however my uncle had the genius idea of going to the furthest (farthest?) lake possible, I can’t even remember the name of the place but what I do remember is that it took about 2 and a half hours to get there. I wouldn’t have really been bothered as the surrounding country side was absolutely wonderful but I wasn’t in the mood at all, after about an hour in the car I started getting restless and irritable, after 2 hours I started feeling nauseous. When we finally found a parking space my cousin who was sat in the other car got out and puked up and everybody else was cranky and annoyed after being stuck in a car for so long. I don’t know what it is about vomiting but once you see someone else vomit it just makes you all the more nauseous, so I made a conscious effort to stay as far away as possible...We also took the barbeque, so the food coupled with the fresh air cheered everyone up, and soon enough everyone was their usual selves, the kids were in the water, the boys/men were playing football and the women were sat chatting about anything and everything. We got home pretty late so we went to bed straight away, there’s something about spending a nice day out and then coming home to a nice warm bed which makes you feel content with life and everything in it…

I wasn’t really in a picture taking mood so most of the pictures are courtesy of my aunt and my sister…

I love the brooding clouds in the background.

This picture makes me smile.....

A little boat by the pier

These swans were utterly ravenous, they even took the bread from our hands, never mind waiting for us to threw it in the water

Countryside view

The lake itself...

.....And another angle

The setting sun..... well the sun's somewhere....

At first the moon was hiding behind some tree's but when it emerged it looked amazing it was soo big!!, i had to take a picture of it but cameras and cars don't mix....i too about a hundred pictures (the joys of having a digital camera!!) and about three were decent. I like this one though cause the clouds are beginning to cover the moon up.

Requiem of a dream

2007-09-03T00:37:00.000+01:00

When I started reading this book I didn’t know what requiem meant, in fact I had never heard of the word before, I thought I would know by the end of the book but I didn’t. So I looked it up out of curiosity and here’s what it means:

A Roman Catholic mass held to offer prayers for somebody who has died

Although the main characters are not Roman Catholics (they are Jewish), and none of them actually die, the word requiem is so fitting for the book, for, as the book unfurls you realise that you’re reading about the death of three dreams. The book reveals how four people have lost their wishes, their desires and their hopes for the future, the author lays the foundations for each dream and even begins laying the bricks, that is until a huge bulldozer comes along and demolishes all in its path….

The metaphorical bulldozer in this case? Drugs.

The book is set in New York and follows four people as they get caught in a net of drug abuse, there’s Harry, his girlfriend Marion, Tyrone his best friend and his widowed mother Sara. At first Harry, Marion and Tyrone take drugs as a recreational thing, they then begin to form and shape their future plans and ambitions, in order to implement them however they need money. To make the money, they turn to drug dealing and it’s all downhill from there…

Sara on the other hand lives on her own but splits her time between her friends and her T.V. Her life is pretty routine, until one day she gets a phone call which gives her a new lease of life, she’s going to be on T.V. She then begins to prepare for the big day, including planning the perfect outfit: a red dress she wore to her sons bar mitzvah, sadly that was twenty odd years ago and her figure isn’t the same anymore. Her attempts at loosing weight are all in vain, until she sees a “doctor” who prescribes her some pills which will do the trick for her. I think Sara’s story is the most moving in the book as she seems such an unsuspecting victim of drugs, and what happens to her is awful, it makes you want to reach into the book and rant and scream at the people who did that to her . Like Mishy, my heart goes out to Sara, noone should have to go through what she did…

The book captures drug use perfectly, at first it’s a laugh, abit of fun, perhaps a medical reason. Then slowly the bit of fun becomes something you depend on to get through the day, something which you yearn and think about all the time and eventually something which governs your very existence. With each page you turn the characters fall deeper and deeper into the hellish world of drugs, the further you progress in the book the more you learn about the hideous danger of drugs.

Even though I didn’t have any intention of taking drugs before reading this book, it has put me off drugs for life, and I think it will go far in preventing drug abuse. It does take a bit of getting used to the fact that there is no speech marks used, but it gives a realistic effect I think, (when people are speaking in real life you don’t see speech marks around the words!).

I think Hubert Selby’s done a brilliant job of portraying the world of drugs and not just your stereotypical world either. Even though the book does have some disturbing scenes at the end, it’s left me intrigued by the story lines and I’d love to watch the film to see how it’s all represented on screen.

A random question....

2007-09-01T12:54:00.000+01:00

With all the various accents (American, Belgian and of course North English) resonating around our house recently a totally random question popped in my head....

What would someone who has no accent sound like?? in fact does such a person even exist? is it possible for a person not to have an accent??.....

Just a thought....

An interesting phenomenon

2007-08-25T16:20:00.000+01:00

When Fireman Steve came to visit (you can read about that particular episode here) he left some fire fighter puppets at the centre. It was for a competition, the children had to think of a name for each puppet, the best name wins a prize. Simple. So we got each child to draw both of the puppets and right the name they choose below it. One puppet was a middle aged man with a dark skin tone (could be Asian, could be black, but the important thing is that he was dark) the other was a young Caucasian female. Now as I was looking through all the pictures, a most curious realisation hit me, it made me smile but deep down it worried me slightly too. Every child had given the dark puppet an obviously Christian name. Now I don’t have anything against Christian names (in fact many of them share their roots and origins with Muslim names), but what I don’t get is why did every single child (all the children are asian btw) name the dark skinned puppet (believe me when I say dark skinned, there was no mistaking it for a caucasian puppet) a Christian name? Again I’m not saying that someone with dark skin cannot go by a Christian name, or that there is anything wrong with it, but the point I’m trying to make is that not one of the 27 asian (and they are all Muslim) children we have at the centre choose to name the puppet an Asian name or a black name. It really did amaze me, I just don’t get it. Then it got me thinking why it was so, perhaps they didn’t think Asian people join the fire service, which is probably true. Maybe they thought that to succeed anywhere in life you have to have a Christian name??? . Then again maybe they thought the total opposite in that the colour of your skin and your name don’t necessarily have to be connected, and that anyone can go by any name irrespective of their colour, surely that’s a positive thing? I mean it would break down stereotypes wouldn’t it? Then the psychologist in me began thinking what if it was the other way round, what if a group of Caucasian children were given the same puppets and the same task what would their reaction be, were they likely to name the dark skinned puppet by an Asian name or by a Christian name…is this me just being paranoid or does anyone else out there think it’s an interesting phenomenon…..

DISCLAIMER: It has not been my intention to offend/upset anyone in any way shape or form whilst writing this post but if I have then please let me know and I will do my best to rectify it :)

Pieces of a Paki

2007-08-22T18:07:00.000+01:00

You can read my pre reading impressions about the book here…the current post deals with my post reading impressions….
This book is very surreal, I think it’s unlike anything I’ve ever read before. It’s set in the not so distant future, a future where Prince Charles has become king, America has suffered a civil war, where milk floats actually float and “Paki” has become the generic term for anyone who looks remotely foreign (“whether they were African, Asian, South American or Eastern European they were all a bunch of bloody pakis to the nincompoops”). We follow the narrator, Jonathan Hutton as he tells us how he had an upper class childhood, with a mother who didn’t really give a damn, a father who was always distant and an aunt who gives him a better home than he could have ever asked for as well as instilling a love of organic milk in her nephew.
Throughout his childhood he considers himself as a “yes child”, and he remains thus throughout boarding school and at the beginning of his working life at the suitcase department in Debenhams. Whilst working there he spends many a lunch hour admiring the sandwich shop girl from afar, but never plucks up the courage to speak to her. Then one day his life is totally changed as we learn the strange yet slightly disturbing way he becomes a crack addict. Over time he becomes so desperate for money and drugs he resorts to risky and painful methods to obtain his prize
After escaping his drug habit he goes to Morocco, where he makes his first real friend Raden, an Indonesian Muslim woman who can only speak a few words of English as well as learning he needs to get in contact with the head of food. On his return to England he hatches a plan involving a football game and a carton of organic milk, in order to gain the attention of the head of food. The result: he ends up being best friends with a famous Brazilian footballer who also shares a love for all things organic, seeing as he has no home he moves in with his best friend and all is well. Until he gets captured only to be taken to the head of food, whose located on the moon……Here the narrator learns some long kept secrets, involving organic food, his family and his own identity. On his return to planet earth Jonathan finally plucks up the courage to meet the sandwich shop girl, only for the novel to end in the most unusual way possible.
I love this book purely because of its oddness, and individuality. It also makes you think about the future, particularly about some of the things that are briefly mentioned such as: Brad Pitts leg explodes because of the plastic surgery he had, Brazil becomes the new Iraq, George Bush lives in Texas which is devoid of human rights. It’s little things which aren’t even major threads of the storyline, that hint at what could happen if the things carry on as they are. I can’t really pinpoint completely why I like it….. there’s just something about it………

Snowdon challenge!

2007-08-20T20:11:00.001+01:00

As you may or may not know i'm going to take part in The snowdon challenge to raise money for islamic relief for Africa(details can be found here and my partner in crime can be found here). Now thanks to the wonders of modern technology i don't even have to come to you to ask you to sponsor me you can do it from the comfort of your own home :) using the nifty little widget to the right. All sponsors are appreciated by me and the people who the money will help :)

Saira Khan's Pakistan Adventure

2007-08-19T23:10:00.001+01:00

This isn’t so much as a review but more my feelings and opinions of the programme. The first thing I have to say is I jumped with joy when she went to Lahore fort and memories came pouring fourth of our trip there little over a year ago, where we walked through the very same walls. However as Saira walked towards Badshahi mosque my eyes narrowed into slits, daring her to set foot in the mosque, as it reminded me of another memory from our holiday. I recall we were looking down on the mosque from Lahore fort and we were pleading to go, but to our dismay my cousin who was acting as our tour guide said women weren’t allowed in there. This angered me to no end and I remember I began a diatribe, aimed at no one in particular about the stupidity of women not being allowed in mosques, ok so we’re encouraged to pray at home but that doesn’t mean we’re forbidden from the mosque!? However I realised later on from the program that he probably didn’t want to take us there as there was a brothel called cocoa (spelt cooco?!) just down the road from the mosque, brothel + mosque on practically the same road = a totally oxymoronic idea if I ever saw one.

It was also interesting seeing a glimpse into other parts of Pakistan, for example, I was absolutely amazed with the mountainsides, I remember seeing it all from the plane when we were coming back to England but seeing it close up like that was truly awe inspiring. I also loved Kashmir, I never knew it was so lush and green!! Me and my mum had decided we wanted to go there one day, but by my dad’s “it’s a dangerous place” mumblings, our hopes were diminished to a very tiny glimmer. However I think two programmes weren’t adequate enough to capture the vast variety of Pakistan and I think it would have been better if they made a few more episodes.

One thing that amused me was the fact that Saira was continuously seen as the “only woman”. I actually admire her for joining protests and performances where she was the only member of the fairer sex, purely because of the fact that I would never, ever for the life of me do that ever, ok so she probably had all her TV crew with her but surely she must have been a little creeped out and uncomfortable?

A lot of people seemed to be quite affronted with idea that the programme showed prostitutes, drug addicts, transsexuals and other general “ills of society”. I was also a bit annoyed with it for a while as it kinda ruined the Pakistan of my memories, but after much thought about it I changed my mind about the whole thing. I was totally split whilst watching the segments on the above mentioned groups of society, my heart filled with sympathy at their situations, yet at the same time I knew what they were doing was totally wrong. I think to some extent it was used as a shock factor however I don’t think that was the sole purpose. When you normally think of Pakistan you don’t think of its “dark side”, and that’s most probably due to the fact that it’s never discussed, or shown anywhere. I think that is largely due to the typical Pakistani mentality that exists, you know the one, where you brush anything remotely tabooish under the rug and forget about it. The one mentality that’s so wrong in so many ways. I think that’s where the programme came into play, it opened people’s eyes to the many problems that lie behind closed doors in Pakistan. As long as humans exist there’s going to be prostitutes, orphans, addicts of some substance or another, women who are abused by others and that’s a fact that people need to accept. No matter how furiously they sweep it under the rug it’s still going to be there. I know however some people are going to take it negatively and start making sweeping generalisations about all Pakistanis, but even if one person out there has decided to do something, maybe give some money to a charity, or even set up a charity themselves, in order to help the troubled souls that live in Pakistan, or indeed any where else, then there was some good to come out of the programme after all.

Personalised packages

2007-08-17T22:39:00.001+01:00

Once again due to my laziness i have a back log of posts, so for the next week or so expect a regular stream of posts including book reviews, craft stuff, a bit of controversy and of course the crazy goings on in the world of youth work, but for today....

At the beginning of last week I got a package which just made me smile….The package contained a book which had made me laugh out loud as I read the title, “Pieces of a Paki”. (Yusuf Misdaq) I had read the review of this in Emel magazine and decided to buy it (to be honest it seemed like an odd book, I was intrigued by the name...). The book was wrapped in a Japanese entertainment newspaper, as seen in the picture

the hand drawn speech bubble coming from the man reads, “Open up! a treasure awaits you!”. To top it off the author had signed the book and written a message inside…..

Dear "my name"

Thanks so much for your support, it means alot to me and i hope you enjoy this novel, it was written with heart!

Peace

Y.Misdaq

Also as I later learnt the book was published by the authors own publishing company, which isn’t a big hotshot company, but it's a little home-grown out of the basement type thing, he also did the front cover himself. Maybe it’s the creative side of me that loves everything hand made and slightly different but I found myself smiling at it all, it showed some thought had gone into the whole process, right from the moment the idea popped into the authors head to the instant it landed on our lobby floor. It showed that the author cared about his customers, that it wasn’t all about making money and consumerism, ok so he isn’t that famous, so what?, it shows he puts heart into his work, that he appreciates every single customer he gets.

Another example: I love it when I buy something from eBay and the seller has put a little thank you note in, or they give you a free pen or something, I even received a sweet once, I didn’t eat it but it’s the thought that counts!! It makes me truly happy when that happens as it shows that there’s a person behind the package not just a business.

I'm all for equal opportunities sooo....

2007-08-15T16:38:00.000+01:00

Happy Independence Day India!

60 years of independence...

2007-08-14T22:44:00.000+01:00

Happy Independence Day Pakistan!

A visit from the fireman...

2007-08-13T20:58:00.000+01:00

The other day at the play scheme we had a visit from a fireman, he was a happy guy, full of jokes and laughter, which is what you need with children. He had a few videos to show, a bit of talking to do and then of course the obligatory dressing the children up in firemen gear. What he didn’t mention was that he wanted one of the volunteers to dress up too, as the “fire engine” needed a driver who apparently had to be older than 18, seeing as I was the only volunteer in that room the chore fell on me….
I had to wear the whole oufit, the trousers, the big boots, the jacket and yes the helmet, but no it didn’t stop there we had to pretend there was a fire, we had run to the engine, jump in, drive to a random location, jump out, run to the fire, and put it out with our “hoses”. Let me tell you this I have a new found respect for firemen….I was sweltering under the uniform, I felt there was a fire right there with me never mind at the random location, the boots were extremely heavy and running on the spot was no easy task and the helmet was too big, which when added to my headscarf and the headband underneath created a whole fire of it’s own…..and that was without a fire to fight back……but at least I wasn’t as unfortunate as one of the other volunteers, who dressed up as welephant…..

A few random fire facts

Hairspray can set a smoke alarm off
A fire engine HAS to be at the scene of the fire within 7 minutes of receiving the call
There are two fire engines where I live and 9 fire-fighters

I’ve realised that throughout this post I’ve been saying firemen/man, when apparently the correct term is firefighters because there are women fire-fighters too…
(Apparently clip art is also aware of this, typing in fireman/men doesn’t come up with any pictures, but firefighter does, yet spell check is still in the dark ages , firefighter brings up the hated red squiggly line….)

Marbling Memories

2007-08-09T23:58:00.000+01:00

A few days ago at the play scheme where I’m volunteering we did marbling. It’s when you get a tray of water, add some oil based inks to it, swirl it around and then place a piece of paper on the surface, the result should transform a white paper to a vibrant sheet full of colour and character… the one I did is below, abit too much red ink came out therefore it does seem to look like someone’s bled profusely all over my paper….

The very act of placing the paper in exciting anticipation on the water sent me back to my primary school days, I think it was in year 4 when marbling became an integral part of our education, we used to back each piece of work we did on a multicoloured marbled sheet. It reminded me of the plastic aprons we used to wear, red ones, blue ones and yellow ones….i always chose the red. Then we would wait eagerly for the next day to see the product, lying on a table covered with newspaper. It took me back to a time where Roald Dhal, Philip Ridley and Jacqueline Wilson were the only authors I cared about. When we would rush to the “big carpet” to see who’s made up world we would be visiting today. I remember the walls were always covered with a plethora of work and various vivid shades of sugar paper. A place where art wasn’t fancy paintings and modern structures, but it was paper mache, clay animals and drawing endless pictures. Where history wasn’t stained with bloodshed and hatred, but was great empires now long lost, the ancient Egyptians and Greeks.

But most of all, I was reminded of a place and a time long gone….

The Kite Runner, The movie

2007-08-08T00:24:00.000+01:00

Yeh you read the title right, there's going to be a film adaptation of the book, My sister first told me, she hasn't read it herself but she knew i had read the book, seeing as it was my permanent companion for several days. At first i was shocked, how are they going to portray such images that are conjured by the book in a film, where real people are acting it out?. It reminded me of the film Sleepers, which also is a film adaptation of another harrowing book, as both books have several simillar aspects (i'm trying not to give away too much from either book but those who have read both will know what i mean).

Now as we all know film adaptations rarely include every aspect of the book, and thats what kind of got me about the film adaptation of TKR, practically every page is vital to the understanding of the book, how can they not include all of it in the film? In Sleepers the more disturbing scenes were suggested/implied to the viewer rather than showing the actual scene take place, i suppose they could do a simillar thing in TKR...

I decided to watch the trailer for TKR (which can be seen here), the first thing that shocked me was the fact that it was a PG-13, i definitely would not allow a 13 year old to read the book ( a sign that the film doesn't include some of the more disturbing/upsetting parts of the novel). However the casting seems brilliant, especially the two main characters and the setting and everything seems perfect too. Yet i still have my doubts about the film, i don't really think it will do the book justice, perhaps it's because the book creates such intense emotion in the reader, it's going to be hard to beat it. I'm curious to watch it though, however i can't say i won't be biased against it....

Getting away from it all...

2007-08-04T23:38:00.000+01:00

Went to Hollingworth lake the other day, it was a very impromptu decision made by my mum, at first we were all reluctant to go, to put it bluntly nobody could be bothered, but in the end we got up, got in the car and were on our way. Once we were there we decided to take the unbeaten path down the less travelled route, and i must admit it was so nice to be away from cars and buildings and busy streets, the glorious weather just completed the evening. You don't really realise how calm and peaceful the countryside is until you get there, you just can't help smiling at every little thing. We walked through a sun dappled wood, inhaling the fresh earthy scent. We came across a babbling brook, flowing next to a huge, yellow sunlit field, we watched in delight as huge dragonflys danced to the melody of the water and the rhythm of the grasshoper's song, staying still for a fleeting moment, only to be gone the next, continuing with their performance to the sounds of nature. We ambled along, taking as much time as we liked, underneath the perfectly blue sky and the cotton wool clouds. For those few hours, everything was forgotten, as we marvelled the true beauty of God's creation...

The Grapes of Wrath

2007-07-28T12:15:00.000+01:00

The first book I read by John Steinbeck was Of Men and Mice, which was for our English GCSE, It was a very short book but it had a striking ending which ties everything in the book together, in a way that you would never imagine. The same can be said for The Grapes of Wrath, the ending leaves you speechless and shocked. I love Stienbeck’s attention to detail, he can spend a whole page describing the tiniest of details, which allows you to see the scene as vividly as if you were there yourself.

The book is set in the America of the 1930’s, and it follows the Joad family as they migrate from Oklahoma to California, “the land of promise”. Kicked out of their homes, and left jobless, just like the hundreds of families around them the Joad party (made up of twelve people, including two children, two elderly people, a pregnant woman and an ex con) set off with their meagre belongings and themselves in a truck, hoping to find a home and jobs in California. Throughout the journey they face various trials and tribulations, which make you sympathise greatly with their plight. However the most horrific test is given to them by humans themselves, at every turn they take, they face people ready to take advantage of them, lying in wait, getting ready to pounce on them at any moment. Yet the family have no choice, they either comply, or face starvation, they have no choice when they sell their things for a meagre amount, they have no choice when they work for fifteen cents an hour, as there’s always someone waiting to work for even less, they’re that desperate. They have no choice to live out of their truck, they don’t have anything to wash with, to eat, they have to scrimp and save to get petrol for their truck and things don’t get any better in California. It is there they are faced with hostilities from the locals and end up living in slums, It is when you get to the ending that you realise what they have to resort to, and in fact the ending is very abrupt and comes when you least expect it, making it all the more shocking. When coupled with the image left in your mind, it leaves you speechless, with mixed feelings flowing through your body.

The thing which makes this book all the more harrowing is that people have been facing these kinds of problems since time began. There is always a group of people immigrating to a “better” country, running from famine, war, or perhaps they just want a better life. This book shows you what the immigrants have to put up with, what they have to give up and go through, and the only thing keeping them going is the vain hope that they are going to a better place. In a lot of situations that so called better place isn’t all that and in many case it is worse. Yet this book deals with people immigrating in the same country, what about people who immigrate to a totally new country, where the language is different, the customs are different , the currency is different in fact the whole culture is different. Imagine what they have to put up with, in fact when I think about it, my grandparents and parents probably went through the same thing when they migrated to England.

Then the locals make things worse, the family in the book were called “Okies” which was used in a similar context to “Pakis”, both which have negative connotations when used with evil intent. The Californians believe them to be dirty, smelly and animal like, but when you read it from the immigrants point of view you learn they have no choice. If the locals shun them and force them to live in slums and “Hooverville” as it is labelled in the book then obviously they are going to smell, if they have no access to clean water, then it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that they are going to be dirty.

It’s reading books like this, which makes you realise how truly blessed we are…..

Children learn what they live

2007-07-26T00:10:00.000+01:00

I’ve started some voluntary work helping out at a summer play scheme, all the volunteers were given a poem which kind of acts as our ethos type thing regarding working with children. I thought I’d share it, as it doesn’t matter if you work with children or not I think this is important even if you just have younger relatives or whatever so here it is…

Children Learn What They Live

If children live with criticism
They learn to condemn
If children live with hostility
They learn to fight
If children live with ridicule
They learn to be shy
If children live with shame
They learn to feel guilty
If children live with encouragement
They learn confidence
If children live with tolerance
They learn to be patient
If children live with praise
They learn to appreciate
If children live with acceptance
They learn to love
If children live with approval
They learn to like themselves
If children live with honesty
They learn truthfulness
If children live with security
They learn to have faith in themselves and others
If children live with friendliness
They learn that the world is a nice place in which to live

Dorothy Law Nolte

Scribble

2007-07-21T18:53:00.000+01:00

Scribble is a new creative writing and poetry magazine, designed for and by people living in my home town’s borough. It’s not big, it’s not glossy, it’s not brash or showy, it’s only 12 pages thick, but I like it. It truly is a representation of the borough, seeing as it is comprised of work from various organisations and individuals from the borough itself…. Each issue there is a different topic, the current issue (summer 2007) is based on LOVE and RESPECT, and although all of the poems were really good here’s a choice few that are my favourite:

Recipe For Being A Mother

Ingredients

20kg of Love
10kg Kisses and Cuddles
1kg Patience
A handful of knowledge
A bundle of energy
A dash of hope
A few plasters

Directions

Mix together the 20 kg of love with 10kg of kisses and cuddles.
Marinate for 18 years in 1kg of patience
Throw in a dash of hope for the future
Wrap together with a bundle of energy
When required, take the handful of knowledge you have collected over the years and place in for good luck
Have a plaster or two to hand as these are always needed

Paula Devin

Respectation

Respect person to person and nation to nation
Worship at the church of many denominations
Listen to the belief of others and their expectations
And show respect in every situation

Clients of Woodclough Day centre and Langley Junior Wardens

Me and My Hijaab

2007-07-18T22:52:00.000+01:00

Sometimes after we've finished tidying up at work we go down to the office and talk to the manager ( who happens to be male)...today was one of those days after talking to him today the following conversation took place as me and my two colleagues left the building and walked towards our cars.....

Colleague one: i couldn't tell whether *Manager's name* was trying to read my t-shirt (she had writing on her t-shirt) or whether he was just looking at my chest....
Colleague two: ooohh so it's not just me then!....I wondered that sometimes, i see his eyes lower when i'm talking to him...
Colleague one: Yeh welll *colleagues name from her other job at the same centre* tells me that he does it to her too
Me: I didn't really have anything to contribute to this conversation, but i looked down and smiled knowingly at the folds of my white hijaab and at that point i loved my hijaab more than ever......

oopsss.......

2007-07-18T22:31:00.000+01:00

So, it's Wednesday evening...time to go to work, i was quite tired and sluggish today, i didn't really want to go, but went early and stopped at a friends house which cheered me up, had a chip muffin, which is always good!! and chatted about random rubbish...left at 6.55 supposed to be at work by 7.00, the journey takes 20 mins usually. So i rang work on the way and told them a slight white lie ( cringes guiltily) .... i said i was stuck in traffic and would be a little late..which is not entirely a lie seeing as the traffic was moving slow (or maybe i was going to fast......). So at going twice the speed limit, i managed to get to work in 10 mins (YYEESS!!)
A new rule had come into place, if you don't bring back you're new membership form you can't come in...this was bliss seeing as we didn't have any children for half an hour or so, while they all went to get there forms filled in...or in the case of some, filled it in themselves (oh yes...we can tell you know). When the forms were filled in the kids could come in, luckily for us it was all the well behaved ones that brought back their forms, so the evening breezed by and was very pleasant, no trouble was caused and we joined in with the games and stuff it was all good....
the drive home was pleasant and when i was nearly home my sister rang to say they were at someones house who were going to umra so come there. So i went there and had a pleasant half an hour or so.
So now it's half ten and we had two cars with us, my sister sat with me, and my parents in the other car. My dad was in front of me and began doing a 3 point turn, i followed pursuit......the competitive streak inside of me stirred...it was goading me on.....a burst of speed pulled the car forward, and a giant invisible hand pushed it back at an equal speed...straight into the wall with a sickening crunch......(closes eyes and cringes)...resulting in a smashed rear light ...and me stopping mid turn, with eyes expanded in horror looking at my parents..my sister gasping for a moment then bursting out into laughter......

Don't you just love.......

2007-07-16T22:04:00.000+01:00

Books! You can go anywhere in the world, from the comfort of your own home, you can visit non existent places, places forged in the mind of the author, You can step into the mind of anyone you like, real or unreal. You can go back in time, or forward, you can feel joy and horror without having to be there, you can meet people without seeing them. Billions of people can read the same book, yet the book will have a personal meaning to all who read it. Anyways what I’m saying (in a rather long winded way!) is that I love books!! That’s why I haven’t blogged for a while, my sole attention has been on books (and a few other things of course), what could have kept my attention away from my dear blog, I hear you ask…….

Lord of The Rings: One volume special/tomb/brick
J.R.R.Tolkien

This book is a true epic, I love the hobbits, particularly in the opening chapter, ok so a lot of it is spent in war/travel (which did get slightly tiresome at times), but I love all the characters. When I got to the end I didn’t want it to end, I wanted it to carry on. So I watched the films which were equally brilliant and made me like the story even more. It’s one of those films/stories that you like more and more as time passes, while you’re reading it, it can seem boring but when it finishes you wish it didn’t!

Quotes

"Do not be too eager to deal out death and judgment" (Gandalf the Grey in the Fellowship of the ring (film))

Sense and sensibility
Jane Austen

This is a quaint story, the only type of romance novels I like are of this era. The characters have a sense of modesty and decorum, the author doesn’t have to resort to vulgar descriptions to portray romance, in fact the characters don’t even have to kiss. These stories always remind me of Asian families, I’m not sure why but there’s something in them, that makes me picture Asian families going through the same thing (maybe it was the aunty that loves matchmaking and interfering, or the evil sister in-law!!). I experienced dejavu whilst reading this, the old “girl falls in the rain on a slippery hill only to be rescued by a dashing young man (single obviously)” was in this also, and for a moment I thought I was reading pride and prejudice. There is a lot of heartache and sorrows in this book, so if you don’t like that sort of stuff don’t read it!!

The Kite Runner
Khaled Hosseini

Think of all the heartache, anguish and misery that a human being can experience, times that by ten and you’ve got kite runner. This book is overwhelmingly devastating, on every page the author manages to shock the reader even more, it comes to a point where you are almost scared to turn the page, in order to avoid what sadness lie in wait. The ironic thing is that Hosseini is such a brilliant author that you can picture every paragraph in your mind as vividly as if you were in Afghanistan picturing it yourself. Despite the fact that I cried several times whilst reading this book, it is one of the best books I’ve ever read. I love the ending also, I was worried that there might be a “and they all lived happily ever after” ending, that would have just ruined it, but the ending was perfectly suited to the novel, not to happy not to sad…just right.

Quotes

"There are lots of children in Afghanistan but little childhood"

Jane Eyre
Charlotte Bronte

I liked this book, it was simple, it tells the life story of an orphaned girl and all the injustices against her, again like sense and sensibility it is a romance novel of a similar era. I found the perfect setting in which to read such a book, curled up on a leather sofa next to the patio door, when it’s dark outside and the rain is lashing against the window. It’s the exact situation in which to read a book, which is for the large part set in large gothic mansions and a boarding school. The second half is pleasantly surprising, and is where you learn there is more to some of the characters than meets the eye. The ending is cute, it’s an “aww bleesss” type ending and it leaves you smiling.

Hey I’ve just got why novels like Jane Eyre and sense and sensibility remind me of Asian families, it cause Bollywood themes are very similar in characters and plot to such novels i.e. you have love triangles, family secrets, people trying to split people up/bring them together, people dying, people fighting over property lol it’s all the same!!!

I realised there’s one book I’ve neglected for quite a while, which is sad as it is probably the best book in the existence of mankind. The Quran. I haven’t read it for a while and it was one of my “summer resolutions” to read more of it and more regularly, it would probably benefit me more that’s for sure, so InshAllah I’m going to try to read more of it....

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

2007-07-16T22:02:00.000+01:00

An empty round about, pushing itself around in a deserted play area….i don’t know why but this image always has eerie connotations for me, whenever I see/read it a sense of…of almost a suspending doom comes over me. Thus the fifth Harry Potter instalment begins, and I found it almost hauntingly sad, at times it was disturbing and several times through the film I felt a chill crawl over my body. Again the cast were brilliant, Bellatrix was the epitome of a crazy witch, I loved her menacing cackle!!, the actress playing Luna Lovegood was born to play the part, the likeness was scary!! And then there was Dolores Umbridge, now I’m all for a hint of pink in an outfit, but under all that pinkness and sweetness lay a shockingly disturbing interior….
However it wasn’t all doom and gloom, Fred and George’s leaving debut was pulled off excellently and there were, moments of light humour. However as was expected large chunks of the book were absent, thus causing the film to feel rushed, but I suppose all the main events were covered, so mustn’t grumble! Overall I think it’s the best HP film to date, however like my good friend here I agree that they should have extended it abit more, to include some of the side plots.

P.S. I think it’s almost compulsory that when you watch a HP film that you have moments of “hey that’s not in the book” or “that’s not right”, or maybe “it’s not like that in the book”. No matter how hard you try not to, when a scene is shown and you see it playing out in your mind, and then suddenly the film in you’re mind snags when something is quite not right in the film… you can’t help thinking the above thoughts…..*sigh*

Karen Armstrong

2007-07-10T13:04:00.000+01:00

I had read quite a few favourable reviews of Ms Armstrong so I really wanted to read her books, as it’s not everyday a non muslim gets favourable reviews for writing several books about Islam. The first one I’ve read is Muhammad (pbuh): A Biography of the Prophet. I was dubious about the front cover, it’s a bit ambiguous, at first I thought it was an image of the Prophet (pbuh) himself (which I’m sure is prohibited?), but on closer inspection the image has wings so perhaps it’s the Angel Gabriel?? Anyway to the book itself, I started it with gumption (that word has been in my mind for ages I really wanted to use it lol) it turned out that the book was a kind of response to the Satanic verses written by Salman Rushdie, a rectification of the downright rubbish that Rushdie had written about the prophet (pbuh). The first chapter is a short history of the hatred against Islam by the west starting from its earliest days to the present age, at first I found it interesting and the word applied to Muslims (Mohammedans) in the early days amused me. However it began to get repetitive and slightly boring, I was never one for history….. but once the book got back to the topic in hand, the book and the author redeemed themselves. One of the things I loved about the book was that, in discussing aspects of Islam the author also weaved in similarities between Islam, Christianity and Judaism, one of the things you never seem to see as much in books written by Muslim authors. Another thing which I found quite appealing was that the history and context of places is given before Islam touched the area, for example the history of medina post islam is given, which is rarely mentioned. However the author raised several points which really impressed me and will go far in clarifying Islam for non muslims, being mainly about the status of women in Islam and the idea that Islam is a “live by the sword, die by the sword” type of religion. I’m not going into detail here about it but will defiantly do a post regarding the points mentioned above. Overall I think the book is a brilliant asset to Islamic literature and I would happily read it over and over again. I definitely recommend everyone to read this book, muslims and non muslims alike

The Facebook Phenomenon

2007-07-06T18:57:00.000+01:00

At first I refused to join because I didn’t want to frit away more hours than I already do on the internet. However now it’s personal, I am adamant I’m not going to join face book, not now, not ever. It’s not even because I don’t want to waste more time on the internet, it’s a matter of principal, I said I’m not going to join so I’m not. Quite a few people I know have been lost to the lure of face book, but not me, nope, no siree, I’m going to stay strong. You can read one man’s point of view here, which in a way inspired this post…..as did a conversation held in pizza hut…

What kind of name is face book anyway……it’s not a book, it’s an insult to books!!

The Baking Bug

2007-07-06T13:12:00.000+01:00

I’ve been bitten by the baking bug…. I made these two recipes at the same time, as it was the first time I was trying them out I used half of the amount for each ingredient (although I’ve listed the full amount here). It was quite time consuming and I was in the kitchen for about 2-3 hours. The end result was what you see in the pictures, as in all I baked is in the pictures, when my mum saw the fruit of my labour she wasn’t impressed her exact words were “is that all of you’ve made in all that time!!”(English-Punjabi translation of course!). I kinda felt the same, I was exhausted from being on my feet for so long and all I had to show for it was two plates of biscuit things. However the proof of the pudding is in the taste so to speak and once everyone had tried them, attitudes were changed! We also had a few relatives around that day and I had favourable feedback from them too, so I will definitely be making them again!!
My personal favourites were the cream cheese spirals but the almond biscotti’s were liked by quite a few too.

Cream Cheese Spirals

225g/8oz butter
225g/8oz cream cheese (I used Philadelphia because we already had it in the fridge!)
225g/8oz plain flour
2tsp of sugar
1 egg

For the filling

115g/4oz of finely chopped walnuts (I actually used peanuts as that was what we had in our house!)
115g/4oz of brown sugar
1 tsp of ground cinnamon

Mix together the butter, cream cheese and sugar, sift over the flour and mix until combined.
Gather the dough into two equal balls and wrap each in cling film (loosely) and place in the fridge to chill for half an hour.
In the mean time mix all the filling ingredients together and put aside
Preheat the oven to 190 C/375 F/ gas mark 5, and grease two flat baking trays
Use one ball at a time, roll it out into a circle, use a large plate as a template and cut around the edges with a knife
Brush the surface with some egg and sprinkle the filling mixture evenly over the circle
Cut the circle into 8 segments (like a pizza)(if you want smaller ones you could do 16 segments) and starting from the outside of the circle roll each segment towards the middle to form the spiral
Place on the trays, brush with egg and sprinkle with sugar, bake until golden brown for about 15-20 mins...et voila!

Italian Almond Biscotti

200g/ 7oz whole almonds
215/7 ½ oz of plain flour
90g/3 ½ oz of sugar
Pinch of salt
½ tsp of bicarbonate of soda
2 eggs
Some egg for brushing onto them before putting in the oven (I used left over from cheese spirals)

Preheat oven to 190 C/375F/gas mark 5, grease two baking trays
Spread the almonds on a baking sheet and bake until lightly brown, when cooled grind 50g/2oz of them in a food processor and coarsely chop the remaining ones.
Mix together the flour, sugar, salt, bicarbonate of soda, and ground almonds in a bowl. Make a well into the centre and add the eggs stir to form rough dough and knead it further until it is well blended.
Mix in the chopped almonds
Divide the mixture into three equal parts and roll into logs about 2.5 cm in diameter. Place on one of the baking trays, brush with eggs and bake for 20 mins.
Remove from the oven and lower the temperature to 140 C/275F/gas mark 1
With a sharp knife cut the logs at an angle, so you end up with slices about 1 cm thick
Place the slices back into the oven and bake for another 20 mins....et voila!

Also i made myself a banana split, it's not really baking, it was for purely indulgent purposes, i felt quite sick at the end of it....

you take a banana, cut it in half, put some freshly whipped double cream on the top, put some halaal marshmallows on top of that and drizzle some melted chocolate...et voila! (for the third and final time)

Jhoom Barabar Jhoom

2007-07-04T16:58:00.000+01:00

Even though i haven't blogged for a few days , i've been a busy bee of late.....i've been designing myself a new template, i scoured the net for one but couldn't find one that was "me" so to speak. So i thought what could be more me than something that i had made myself. Because my computer design skills aren't all that it's taken quite a while to get it done so watch this space as it will be coming very soon... Also i've been cooking/ making things, which has meant that i've got a huge backlog of posts that i had planned (including cooking/creative ones) so i'm probably going to be posting a few posts at a time until i post about everything i had intended....but for the moment back to the topic in hand....

I went to watch this film with an open mind, I had seen the advert quite a few times on B4U movies (!) and they didn’t give too much away about the storyline (after watching the film I now know this was because there was no story line!). I was also very intrigued by Amitabh Bachan’s travelling musician outfit and his long grey locks…….
So the film opens at Waterloo train station where the manageress of House of Fraser (who is seen in the church one minute and wearing a niqaab the next??) and a dodgy dealing Del boy type character meet and both are allegedly waiting for their fiancés, whose trains are delayed by two hours. Thus the manageress and the Indian version of Del boy proceed to tell each other how they met their “fiancés” (shown to the audience in flashbacks) who are both very glamorous and rich (a top dog lawyer and a French hotel manager (who has the most ridiculous Urdu pronunciation!! )) . Then there is the final flashback which is the “what if we hadn’t met our fiancés and fallen in love with each other scenario?”, which I think was one of the best parts of the film, being the only bit set in India, having the best song and the nicest clothes! And so with the ending of the flashbacks the trains arrive and numbers are exchanged. There is the inevitable rendezvous between manageress, Del boy and their “fiancés” at a dance competition, cue several more songs, all variants of the first and by now the ending is very predictable. Although I liked the India bit the best, I found myself feeling quite fond of the second half of the film set in London, which had the familiar air of British films such as Bend it Like Beckham, as well as having guest appearances from the cast of Goodness Gracious Me. But the highlight of the film was seeing Abishek Bachan and the other guy, on a double motorbike thingy, driving down a London road , to the sound of a gloriously old Bollywood song, it brought a smile to my face. Overall the film was a diluted version of more classic Bollywood films, it had a weak love triangle, it had weak humour, it just didn’t have the emotion and passion that Bollywood is known for and despite the fact that there was two kissing scenes there was little chemistry between the characters.

An eventful three hours….

2007-07-04T16:50:00.000+01:00

When i wrote my "first official post" i said that i wouldn't be typing such a long essay in the near future... so here is the next essay 5 months later and i think it's even longer than the first one..

Had to go to work half an hour early last week… it was going to be an interesting three hours…… In the area where I work there are two other youth clubs at different community centres, to bring the areas together (and to save costs!) there’s going to be an area youth coordinator, who is going to oversee all three clubs. The candidates were going to be interviewed that day, and they were going to spend 15 mins around the club. Some genius somewhere had forgotten that we start at 7.30 and had scheduled the first interviewee to come at 7.00 therefore we had to start early, also as the coordinator will be working with all three clubs we had some of the staff and kids from the other clubs. Here’s the interesting bit… pretty much all of the children from the other clubs are white….pretty much all the kids from our club are asian (and very badly behaved!), for no reason other than the fact that the other two clubs are placed in a highly populated white area and ours is in a highly populated asian area. So the evening began quite well with only a few children and one member of staff from each of the other two clubs, the children were delightful, they asked politely to go on the computers/play pool/table football, and then our children came…….
We were holding our breaths….at first it was ok….
One of the boys asked me “who are these mongs anyway??” (Which was actually polite, we were expecting a continuous stream of foul language directed at them, however this was ok, we could deal with this).
My response “don’t call them mongs, they’re not mongs, they’re from the *community centre name* and the *community centre name*” (I realised after the words tumbled forth from my mouth that I shouldn’t have repeated the offending word twice!) which was met with “why are they here?” I then proceeded to explain.
I was quite happy multitasking, I had to do the register, collect the fees, as well as manning the door and keeping an eye on the kids upstairs (our supervisor was showing the interviewees around, my colleague was keeping an eye on things downstairs, our other co-worker wasn’t in that week, and the staff from the other clubs were content with dealing with their children (3 from each club!)
Now we were being quite selective with whom we were letting in, some of the more unpredictable mischief makers/gang leaders were told they weren’t allowed in this week….that’s when it all went down hill. They began throwing stones at the upstairs windows, started swearing, they even resorted to the old “oh so you let the white kids in but not us”, they then climbed the outside stairs to the fire exit and stood on the banister thingy (which is on the first floor, so if they fall they land on the pavement, with not so pleasant results) and started banging it and kicking it, to the dismay of the two staff and children from the other clubs:
Me: (looking at the window in a fed up manner when the first stone was thrown, rolling my eyes and inhaling deeply)
Staff member from the other club: (jumping out of her skin, then looking at my reaction) “oh so that’s normal issit”?
Me: (pondering whether or not to tell her that it is indeed very normal, at the risk of making our kids sound like hooligans) well...yeh they’ve done it a few times before…
Staff member from the other club: (shaking her head wildly) Ohhh I don’t know how you cope me, I just don’t
Me: (give her a martyresque smile and proceeded to tell the kids to get away from the windows, whose immediate reaction was to jump up on the chairs to get a better look of the action).
Because the offenders were outside we couldn’t really do anything, but ignoring them is so frustrating, particularly when you have the shocked and appalled faces of your “guests” looking at you… almost imploring you to do something to put them out of their misery. It annoyed me that we couldn’t do anything, I couldn’t help feel that they thought we were incompetent…. As the kids were very persistent we ended up calling the police, but alas the enemy had a spy from within…one of the cheeky buggers who were inside the club had warned the cheeky buggers outside the club that security were on their way, by the time security got here there were no cheeky buggers left outside….
Things proceeded quite chaotically for a little while as children kept coming in and out, as we didn’t have tuck shop they were taking trips to Asda across the road to buy their supplies. We had a new door fitted in, which only opens from the inside and has to be turned to be unlocked then you have to press the button to release it….in other words a staff member has to open it, sometimes this was me sometimes this was my colleague downstairs (the door was downstairs) either way it involved going down the stairs to check if someone else had opened it, or to open it myself.
Then our supervisor came upstairs in between showing interviewees around and proceeded to give me an account of how she opened the door on her way up only to be confronted by a very tall youth, who left her gob smacked after letting out a volley of abuse, she told him not to speak to me like that…turned around after shutting the door and found an interviewee standing there. (I cringed at the thought of it) Anyway so she asked me to join my colleague downstairs in the sports hall, and en route I saw an unfamiliar (yet tall) face waiting at the door. I gingerly opened the door, and was met with a lad in his late teens, behind him I saw some of the cheeky buggers sneering, my eyes narrowed towards them. I drew my attention back to the teen…who had great difficulty letting his words out, in between the stuttering, stammering and general difficulty, he managed to say that he was here to apologise for his language before… I told him that the person he wanted to apologise to was busy at the moment, but he could come back later…my heart warmed to him instantly over the fact that he had the guts to come back and apologise for his wrongdoings, but something wasn’t right, I glanced at the cheeky buggers behind him once more and shut the door. By now my body was wearing down, my stomach was beginning to complain about the fact that it hadn’t had proper food since lunch time (apparently the bowl of angel delight I had at 4ish didn’t count), my feet were tiring out, and my body was running on its "Reserve For Emergency Energy Store". I needed a good plate of food and my bed ASAP.
9 o clock came (It took its bloody time too!) and it was time for the kids to go, they all went with relative ease and little trouble until the last one was left to leave….The only girl we had in today (apart from the few from the other clubs), but to be honest I would have been surprised if she had gone without causing trouble…… As she left I could see she had a mouth full of water, from her body language I could see she was threatening to spit it out. I thought “she wouldn’t dare”, but at the same time I didn’t want to see whether or not she would dare and ushered her out as fast as I could. However as I was shutting the door she grabbed hold of it and let out a spray of water from her mouth, what proceeded was a tug of war for the door. She maintained what little dignity she had by not hurtling a great gob full of spit at me…it was more like spittle (I was slightly grateful at this). My immediate (yet shallow) thought was “MY SKIN!!” I could literally hear my brain screaming as flecks of the heinous substance landed on my skin. My face was the clearest it had been in days, I was not going to let one girl and her spit ruin it. At this point I heard a “that’s disgusting “behind me, I turned to see about six kids and two staff from the other two clubs watching as if it was a theatre production or something, great that’s all I needed. I was surprised at the girl’s strength (or my weakness), if I shut the door I would trap her fingers, and then there’s all the rules and regulations about not having physical contact with the children etc. I couldn’t say anything to her, I couldn’t make eye contact with her, she had lost that right the instant he spat at me. I told her she was banned only to be told that she “didn’t care”, “so what”, “good”. Eventually I did get the door shut, and I didn’t give the matter another thought until later on. Once our “guests” had gone, we reflected on the evenings events, I told my supervisor about her visitor and she told me he came again and she spoke to him, she mentioned that he had “special needs” and even though he was quite overbearing he had the innocence and lexis of a child. It turned out that the cheeky buggers behind him had told him to say what he did, despite the fact that they were so younger than him, and the sad thing is that he did it. My heart went out to him, I felt so sorry for him it was unbelievable.
We left the club at about ten to ten (we are supposed to leave at 9.30), I love driving home at that time, the roads are dead and the sun is setting when coupled with the melodious words of the Quran filling the car it’s an excellent opportunity to wind down. However not that day, I couldn’t stop thinking about what that girl did, the thing that made the whole situation worse was that she was muslim, she wore a headscarf and an abayah. She was a representative of Islam a beautifully perfect religion but she had stained it… I wasn’t even bothered anymore about the fact that she had spat at me, the spit had washed off, but the impression she left on the non muslim visitors at our club couldn’t be washed of with soap and water. It incensed me so much, words cannot describe my feelings. Those people had come from a predominantly white area, they probably didn’t have such close contact with muslims that often, the potential was there to give them a favourable impression about muslims and Islam. But no it didn’t happen. What did they go away with instead?....that all muslims are disgusting and mannerless. The fury inside me stirred, it awoke and rose to a crescendo, to my surprise I found myself fighting back tears, tears of anger.
I got home and was too tired to speak more than a few words to anyone, but I needed food. My mum had cooked brown rice (not palau rice, they’re actually brown before you cook them) with chicken, the taste was so comforting, the rice tasted divine, the taste was very different to white rice, it calmed me down a great deal. I craved the comfort and warmth of my bed, yet once I was alone in the dark, my mind started obsessing about the days events once more, it frustrated me, I was mentally and physically exhausted I just wanted to sleep. I needed sleep like I needed oxygen, yet it was being withheld from me, I begged my mind to rest, to stop thinking, just for a few moments so I could drift into a deep restful sleep. After what seemed like a lifetime it heeded my begging and my craving for sleep was satisfied.

Smoking Ban, Yay or Nay?

2007-07-01T12:47:00.000+01:00

Practically every newspaper/magazine/billboard/news/current affairs programme will probably have had something on the smoking ban today, so i thought i would add my two cents worth. Personally i don't think the ban is going to have an affect on me, i only know of two people who smoke and both of them are "considerate" enough to smoke outside anyway, I mean it's not as if i go "T' pub, fora pint" (said in a heavily northern accent). While I'm not condoning smoking in any way, surely the point of going to the pub or shisha place is to drink, eat, smoke and be merry, so what is the point of banning it in a place that thrives on people smoking in the first place??. I will still have to suffer having toxic gases blown into my face, while walking in town or wherever, as it doesn't constitute an "enclosed public space" , I still have endure someone around me reeking of fags when i get on the train/bus, seeing as technically they aren't smoking in an "enclosed public space" (but the people around them are still inhaling the lung clogging, cancer causing crap (to put it politely))....... I suppose a positive side is that at least more people are trying to quit, Also i suppose it's healthier for kids and other family members who have to put up with their parent/s smoking indoors......

Deep thinking

2007-06-27T12:37:00.000+01:00

This is the first Harun Yahya book I’ve read, I’m not going to do a review about it as I don’t think it needs one, it’s an excellent book with excellent photographs. Instead I’m going to write some points that the author outlines, which I think are really simple but are often overlooked. The book basically shows how muslims should/n’t think, some of the ways of doing this, how to be constantly reminded about Allah and the hereafter, and how to avoid becoming to materialistic.

People (including myself ) behave as if they are going to be alive forever, and act as if there will be no death. However when this life is over, the eternal life will begin, where we begin it (paradise or hell fire) will depend on our behaviour in this world. So really shouldn’t we spend this life in a manner which will remind us that we could die anytime rather than never??
We should always think positively, i.e. instead of being jealous of a person who is more attractive than ourselves we should consider their good looks as a creation of Allah, we should hope that Allah will give that person as well as ourselves true beauty in the hereafter also.
We shouldn’t think about petty little anxieties, i.e. if I don’t pass my exams I’ll fail the year, I’ll have to drop out of uni, I won’t get a good job, I won’t get married etc etc. These are all caused by satan’s whisperings and there is little use in thinking such things as ultimately Allah is in control of everything.
Allah has created this world imperfect and flawed, in order to test us, however this should make us strive for paradise even more so, as we see so much beauty in a flawed world then imagine how much there would be in paradise
We should not look at things in a habitual way, i.e. we shouldn’t begin to see things as ordinary and every day. This is because Allah has bestowed them upon us and he may take them away from us at any time, so we should think of things as blessings from Allah rather than things we have bought with our hard earned cash!!
There are many opportunities during the day for us to be reminded of Allah, for example the fact that we have woken up is due to Allah, we have to go to sleep to rest our bodies, this is a sign of our imperfection compared to Allah’s perfection. Our bodies have been created so that each part is balanced and harmonious with other parts of our body thanks to Allah. The fact that many of the foods we eat grow out of the dark, dirty earth yet they are so full of colour, a beautiful fragrance and taste shows the power that Allah posses’.

There’s much more examples in the book and I would recommended it to everyone, but I’ll stop before I reword the whole book!!

Smokin' Aces

2007-06-25T13:47:00.000+01:00

Initially i had planned to do a post about a book i had read recently, but that can wait. I've just seen the film Smokin' Ace's, (literally about 5 mins ago) I'm so glad i was the only one at home....It was laced with foul language, there was blood spurting in practically every scene, there was sparsely clad prostitutes and a motley crew of disturbing assassins, all pursuing a drugged up, x-entertainer magician type fellow who has a penchant for the aforementioned prostitutes. But once you get past all of that the film was actually good and had one of the best endings I've seen in a very very long time. It was one of those films which pulls all the loose ends together right at the end making everything fit together in that perfect yet totally unexpected way, i actually was on the end of my seat gasping "noway!!" several times during the last 10-15 mins. The storyline is this.... the x entertainer guy is put into a witness protection scheme thing (a very expensive one at that) as the FBI are hoping that he will dish the dirt on the Mafia and loads of other sinister characters. Cue the motley crew of disturbing assassins (amongst them is Alicia keys), which have been hired by various people who are after the x entertainer guy , in the vain hope that he won't spill the beans on them and their shady dealings. Throw in some FBI's in the mix and you have a kinda rat race to see who gets to the x entertainer first.. who just happens to be staying in the pent house suite of a top hotel, with round the clock security....up until a certain point i wasn't that impressed in fact i was quite disgusted at several points in the film. But the ending changed all of that, i think because of the nature of the film you weren't actually sure of how it was going to end, so i didn't have a preconceived idea of the ending, which made the ending all the more brilliant. It actually made enduring the rest of the film worth it. On a more serious note however, i think it showed how easy it is for the FBI (and also the police) to make mistakes which cost innocent lives (Charles Menendez??, "terrorist raids"??), in the case of this film it was a misinterpretation of information, lack of communication and not having access to all of the information available. I'm not going to say more than that as I'll end up saying what happened!!

Oddimalities

2007-06-23T12:05:00.000+01:00

Ooohh my first tag courtesy of Hema:) well here it is my odd points:

I have freckles. i think i'm the only asian person i know of (apart from my brother) who has freckles. Occasionally my mum recommends some cream or some herbal remedy to get rid of them, but i like em, it would be odd to look in the mirror and not find them looking back at me lol
I hate black pepper. Its the only food thing i hate with a passion, other than that i'm not a fussy eater at all.
I don't tan. I burn lol. I went to Pakistan and came back the same colour as before, which wasn't exactly dark anyway....
I have lobeless ears. lol yes you read right my ears don't really have a lobe, there is a bit of skin there but it just joins straight onto the side of my head! i think it's genetic my mum has the same kind of ears
linking back to point 4, i have very small ears. Perhaps a cause for point 4. My six year old cousin has bigger ears than me. But again i like my little ears lol

There you have it, I can't think of any more at the moment.First and foremost i tag Ymiss (although i suspect i read a similar tag on your blog once anyway) and anyone else who cares to do it!

Now you can have your cake and eat it!

2007-06-19T16:33:00.000+01:00

I’m sorry I know it’s a cliche but I couldn't resist, after all this post is all about cake!! After the constant persistence of a certain individual, I’ve finally decided to put up my cake recipe for the cake which was mentioned briefly here and is pictured below. It doesn’t really have a name it’s kind of a variation on Victoria sponge, so I suppose it can be a Victoria sponge.

For the cake:
Ingredients:
8oz/220g of self raising flour
8oz/220g of margarine/butter
8oz/220g of sugar
4 large eggs/5 if they’re small or medium

You need to preheat the oven, I’m not sure about the conversions and stuff because I’ve never used an actual recipe for the cake, my aunty told it me ages ago…but we always use the lowest heat setting so it takes it’s time cooking
Mix the butter and sugar until the mixture is creamy and has gone a pale colour
Add the eggs one by one and mix until they are combined into the mixture
Add the flour bit by bit and mix until the mixture is smooth
Grease the cake tin/s, I used two round ones to sandwich them together but you could use a square one or even use bun cases if you want
Pour the mixture into the tin/s and place in the middle and lower sections of the oven, not at the top or it will burn
Cook for about an hour or until the cake is golden brown from the top and cooked in the middle. You can check if it’s cooked by pushing a knife through the cake if it comes out clean then the cake’s cooked if it has batter on then it’s not cooked (common sense really)
Most of the time we just have the cake as it is but if your feeling adventurous……

For the homemade jam:

I’m not going to do an ingredient list simply because I don’t know the measurements I always guess, or base it on taste. For the cake I made, I used strawberries and raspberries but you can use any fruit, I’ve made it with blueberries and black berries before and also I’ve tried it with apricots. This is a cheat’s jam, you’re supposed to add some pectin or summat to make the jam set but I don’t bother, but I prefer it not as hard as shop bought jams as it’s easier to spread and stuff. Basically you need to put your fruit in a small pan, it works best with berries and soft fruits, add a little water just a small amount about half a cup. The last ingredient is sugar, you need quite a bit of sugar but not too much, that’s why it works with berries so well cause you can get away with putting loads of sugar in cause berries are generally not as sweet. (HHmmm I’m having difficulty explaining this I just chuck the ingredients in the pan and let em cook and it usually works out fine!!!!). Well I suppose I used about one punnet of berries altogether, and I put in about half a cup of sugar first and let the fruit cook for about 10 mins. I then tasted the jam, as the taste wasn’t as sweet I added some more probably about quarter of a cup of sugar. Basically the more sugar you put in the more “harder” your jam will be, but you don’t want to put in too much which will cause the sweetness to over ride the taste of the fruit. So I suppose you need to put as much sugar as you can without making it to sweet, in order for it to set. Totally vague I know!!! But that’s the only way I can put it really. As for the cooking time the same goes really if you want you jam without any bits in you could cut the fruit in smaller pieces if it’s a large fruit or cook it for longer (obviously with berries you can’t really cut them but I did quarter the strawberries) or if you want bits of fruit pieces still in you could cut larger pieces or cook it for less time. Again basically you cook it until it’s the consistency you want it to be I think I cooked mine for about 15-20 mins on a fairly low heat, and I still had some strawberry bits in it. Again we don’t usually make this with cake, we have it with scones or pancakes or summat, but I spread it on one of the cakes this time and on the other cake……..

For the butter cream
6oz of margarine/butter
12oz of icing sugar
Some water

This is much easier to explain than the jam, all you need to do is mix the sugar and butter until it’s pale in colour and creamy, it takes quite a while.
Add a few tablespoons of water to get it to a fluffy consistency and the jobs a done’un!!
To assemble it all let the cake and jam cool properly. Spread the jam on one cake and the butter cream on the other. Sandwich them together. With the rest of the butter cream you can cover the top and sides of the cake, and decorate it as you wish, be warned though if you’re a bit of a perfectionist then it’s going to take a while to cover the cake and it can get messy…very messy.

Picture 1: The finished product, before it had to endure a 20 min car ride in the sweltering heat , which meant that the butter cream had started to split and the juice from the fruit had started to run into the butter cream

Picture 2: The product when i got it home after having to endure a car ride through Manchester city centre and a sweltering hot train ride home

Ymiss: send me the pic of the cake at the park please so i can add it to the life story of my cake lol

And while we're on the subject of cake:

A Tale of Two Boys...

2007-06-16T15:53:00.001+01:00

Went to work on Wednesday as usual this week. The weather was abysmal, after several glorious days of sunshine, the rain came and transformed everything into a misty grey picture. I parked the car in the Asda car park and ran to the community centre (yah, i really ran!!), the rain was refreshingly cool on my face and surprisingly lifted my mood. Once we got upstairs the almost picturesque grey scene could be seen standing still through the windows, the falling rain contorting the image ever so slightly. The stillness was broken when multicoloured bundles could be seen running towards the door, soon the same bundles could be heard charging up the stairs and poking their faces around the door. Looking back out of the window a new addition to the landscape could be seen, a blast of colour danced against the grey background, someone was flying a kite, a rainbow kite tugging for freedom, adding life to the whole scene. On closer inspection it was one of the boys from our youth club, with his dad, in the nearly empty Asda car park. The scene brought warm smiles to the staff's faces, how often was it that you saw a dad, with his son, flying a rainbow kite on a rainy June evening. The rest of the evening passed in the sluggish yet comfortable way things pass when it's raining outside and your warm, inside. Nine o clock came, and all the children left, apart from one boy, who was waiting for his dad to pick him up. The clock struck nine twenty, after making a phone call home to the boy's mum to remind her that her son was at the centre, the door was opened to his mum's boyfriend, who was drunk to the extent that he was wearing a short sleeved shirt, in the pouring rain, and until the door opened had had his arms out as far as they could go, singing as loud as he could.
Thus the boy went home, the staff all feeling the same sympathetic silence towards him.

Disability IS an attitude

2007-06-13T15:54:00.000+01:00

Last week i attended a protecting and safeguarding children training course from work, it deals with some pretty heavy stuff, and some of it can get quite disturbing...but the thing that struck me most of all wasn't the horrific ways that some children are treated (although it was disturbing), in fact it was one tiny statement the tutor said that hit me like a slap in the face. It was an extremely minor part of the course and was only mentioned once during the two sessions, it was "disability is an attitude". As soon as these words tumbled out of the tutors mouth i could see a memory playing back in my mind, like a film. It was at college and i was leaving the study area, i can't remember why i was there or why i left, but i was on my own. I was walking through the swing doors and allowed them to close behind me, as i walked down the corridor, a girl in a wheel chair was going the opposite direction, towards the study area, i looked back and saw her stop at the door, i then turned around and went back to open the door for her. I thought i was helping someone out, the thing i least expected was to hear "i can open a door you know" even though she said it with a friendly smile, she spoke in an almost patronising manner. At the time i was gob smacked, first at the fact that she said that but then at the fact that she was so damn right. Yet when i think about it, she had every right to speak to me in a patronising manner, she probably gets people assuming she can't do something every day of her life. We automatically assume that because someone is "disabled" they are incapable or incapacitated. I was so wrong in assuming she couldn't open the door, it's unbelievable. Just because she was in a wheel chair that doesn't mean she couldn't use her arms, in fact if she had no/little use of her legs she probably developed excellent use of her arms. Same with blind people, if they cannot see then they probably have a far superior sense of smell or touch. I think the word "disable" itself is incorrect, people who are labeled as such aren't "disable" in fact they are perfectly able they just develop other ways of doing things. Disability is definitely an attitude created by society.

Post Exam Euphoria (P.E.E.) (heehhee)

2007-06-08T19:21:00.000+01:00

Day 1:Last exam was on Tuesday, i was eagerly awaiting the moment when i stepped out of the exam hall without the thought of going home to revision. Every cell in body was zipping around in hyper mode in anticipation of that moment. Yet when the moment came, my heart wasn't in it, i pathetically attempted the exam which i thought was going to be the easiest and came out miserable. I felt depressed...the exam was so damn hard.... as i sat waiting for my friends to come out every other face showed the same downcast look.
However my mood quickly changed once it was decided
we would go for a celebratory meal at Nando's, The combination of good food and friends is a good one and does wonders to your mood. My good mood continued once i got home, i revelled in doing nothing except for jumping from the computer to the T.V, to the kitchen. It was bliss.
Day 2: The next day the real P.E.E. kicked in, spending a delightfully sunny day shopping, again with good food and friends heightened my mood greatly. An hour after getting home, it was time to go to work, once i got there i found out my manager wasn't in (i felt kinda bad about that, her steering lock was stuck...) and My managers manger wasn't in ( i was over the moon about this it meant we could go home early :)) and we hadn't been opened for 4 weeks meaning we probably wouldn't have much kids in anyway. However once the kids started arriving everything went down hill.. We didn't have a register, so we had to improvise, we didn't have the cash box, again we had to improvise, we were only allowed to use one room because of staff numbers, (having 14 pre-pubescent boys and three staff in one room is very very hard), the children were arguing with us about who was over 12 and who wasn't, we realised we had banned a boy after we let him (trying to get him out wasn't easy at all), to top it all of the set off the fire alarm so we kicked everyone out, then they began throwing stuff (eggs, stones, you know the kinda stuff) at windows demanding their money back..and all this was within the first half hour..... i was over flowing with stress as i drove home my head was hurting.. however driving home very fast as the sun sets with the window open , on an empty road is the best method of clearing your head. Once i was home i was happy again, albeit exhausted
Day 3: My first official day of rest after exams again total bliss...you can't beat doing nothing all day!!
Day 4: (Today) The combination of the two "F'S" has succeeded in making my day again. A picnic in the park , with homemade cake (recipe coming soon), pizza, Disney princess tablecloth, Winnie the pooh napkins, plenty of squirrels and menacing ducks/swans/geese and of course a good group of friends made for an excellent day.

There you have it, the highs and lows of P.E.E!!!!

My voyages through the blogosphere

2007-05-28T16:06:00.000+01:00

As of late, it seems I've been trying to think of any excuse not to revise, the latest in a line of procrastination tools has been to sit at the computer for hours on end on the Internet. The other day i was "blog hopping", you know, when you visit one of the usual blogs, then you click on a link which leads you to another blog, then you find another link which seems interesting, thus the cycle continues until you realize you have wasted a whole afternoon "blog hopping", You simultaneously realize that you could have spent that time in a more productive manner i.e. revising and suddenly all those blogs you read don't seem so interesting anymore. Although i did find two blogs which i found very interesting and highly entertaining and would happily spend a whole afternoon reading/watching them.

Ummah Films A kind of video blog, very entertaining particularly the reminder videos , i love the simplicity of it, just one guy and his camera. That's it. No special effects. No fancy editing. Simple.
Rate your students I'm sure everyone's been on a blog where teachers complain about their students. Normally these are high school students, sometimes primary school students, even college students on the odd occasion. However i never expected to find a sight where university lecturers complain about their students, yet it beats them all, it's done with a certain wit and humour that can only be achieved once you've completed a PhD and a few extra degrees on the side. One thing that amazed me was that how much influence American lecturers had over their students grade, many of the complaints were about students literally begging for the lecturer to change their grade as if it's the done thing in America??!! i think the only say my lecturers get in my grade is that the write the exam paper that's it, they don't mark it, a computer does that. And besides if your not going to turn up to any of your lectures or hand in your assignment on time then perhaps, just perhaps you might deserve the rubbish grade that you've got??

What Am I?....

2007-05-28T15:57:00.000+01:00

The very thought of me spreads dread all over your body, yet you have no choice
Starting me is an arduous chore and finishing me is a moment of sheer bliss
Eventually i take over your every living moment , you need more and more
If you don't get your daily fix then you're all ratty and irritable
When you do get your daily fix you feel better, yet exhausted
When your not with me, your thinking of me
I stop you from sleeping and eating
I won't let you go anywhere, you have to stay with me and only me....

(answer in the comments section)

Does my head look big in this?

2007-05-11T13:07:00.000+01:00

I initially had heard about this book quite a while ago, I can’t remember where as it struck me as one of those teeny bop type books, those ones that you read when your like 14 (sleepover club?!) so I laughed silently to myself at the title and never gave It another thought. Then the other day my cousin (12 year old) was at our house and she was reading it so I borrowed it off her and thought I’d give a try.

At first my initial thoughts seemed to be accurate, the first few chapters were just like any other teenage melodrama with the usual clichés about parents, school, peer pressure blah blah blah. But I persevered, and as each character’s storyline deepened the book grew on me, in fact I think Randa Abdel-Fattah has done a good job in portraying your typical Muslim personalities. You’ve got the parents who think marriage is the sole purpose of their daughter’s life, the family that yearn to belong to the country they live in so much so that they come up in a rash when their home country is even mentioned. The brother who does drugs, messes about with girls yet wants his sister to be locked up at home and so the lists goes on. In fact the story has many layers and Fattah has tossed and turned until the right combination has been reached, you have your typical teenage problems (crushes, weight issues, bullying), Muslim issues (wearing a hijaab, how we don’t date) and cultural issues. The author also does a good job of clearing up many misconceptions and myths people hold about Muslims for example the whole cultural/religious clash between marriages and girls being “forced” to wear hijaab. As expected of most Muslim related books nowadays it also covered the whole terrorist issue which I think was done with sensitivity and poignancy.

I think this is one of the first books of its kind which shows the life of a western Muslim teenager in a humorous yet thoughtful way. However I think it is mostly aimed at teenagers, and as I have a few extra years of wisdom than the intended audience it didn’t have that “wow” factor in terms of its storyline. To me it was just an entertaining read with quite a few laugh out loud moments and several thought provoking instances. I think if I had read it at high school perhaps it would had a bigger impact on me, also I would recommend it to non-Muslims purely as it is a lighter way of gaining knowledge of Islam which is needed in this day and age!

A few choice quotes

"I’d rather follow God’s fashion dictates than some ugly solarium-tanned old fart who’s getting by on a pretty self serving theory of less is more when it comes to female dress"
"Putting on a hijab isn’t the end of the journey. It’s just the beginning of it"
"Sometimes it’s easy to loose faith in people. And sometimes one act of kindness is all it takes to give you hope again "

T.V. Round Up

2007-05-01T12:52:00.001+01:00

What I've been watching for the past few days

Cricket: Australia won thecricket world cup.Aarrgghh.i really don't like the Australian cricket team, i don't know why. The final was farcical anyway. They had to stop for rain twice. Stop for bad lighting once. At one point Australia thought they had won and starting running around the pitch, even the podium and everything was brought on. But no .The umpires said Sri Lanka had 3 overs left so they had to play. This is the third consecutive world cup they've won and they won every match they played in the world cup. I suppose they deserve it.

Heroes: I love heroes!! we stated watching it last week. Ok i have to admit it's not that original, i mean the man who painted the future?! like we haven't heard that before, nuclear bombs, power hungry villans, and it does have undertones of x-men thrown in for good measure. But i still like it all the same, but it's not for the faint hearted, there's much to much blood and gore

The Wright stuff: Me (i have Mondays off uni) and my aunty (shes on maternity leave) were going to town, when she came to pick me up i was still getting ready, so she watched some good old daytime t.v. As i was putting my hijaab on i overheard the discussion they were having on the Wright stuff (the presenters second name is Wright). Anyway the discussion was should manners be taught at school or should it be upto the parents. One caller said the school should do it, and instead of teaching religious education they should teach manners, as religious education isn 't important. This hit a nerve, I'm quite a happy go lucky kind of person but this was just ignorance. If taught properly pretty much all religions teach good manners and morals, i mean it's part of the core principles of religion!. They go hand in hand, it's like fish and chips dammit!! and why the hell should it be up to the school to teach good manners, what have the parents been doing all these years?!! it's common sense to teach your child to say "please" and "thank you", teach them to treat other's how you want be treated and to basically be a good person!!....... and deep breath :)

Busking/Begging

2007-04-24T14:53:00.000+01:00

You may recall one of my previous posts was a review of 300, well after watching the film and running UP the DOWN escalator on that day, a certain MissB and I were walking down Market street in the foggy warmth (global warming?!). We followed the sound of Joe Budden's pump it up and came across a smallish crowd which had congregated around a breakdancer of about 14 years or so. We stopped, to watch him for a while and he was impressive, until the song stopped and so did the boy, he picked up his cap with some money inside, put his stereo in a dinky suitcase thingy and walked off and so the crowd dispersed.

As i was on the train home today that memory was pulled forward from the depths of my mind. As i turned the page of the Manchester Evening News, the same boy looked up at me, mid move. George Sampson of Warrington is a dance devotee, having danced since the age of six, he has been offered a place at Hammond school, a prestigious dance school, where he hopes to learn ballet in order to fulfil his dreams of becoming a professional dancer. He spends his free time breakdancing on Market street, in order to raise some money so he can pay his school fees.

A mere 2 hours or so before coming across the article me and my uni friends were walking to Spar on Oxford Road. We only had 15 mins before next lecture and we needed our lunch. As we were browsing the junk food isles, we were each separately approached by two Muslim women who were begging for money. However they didn't even ask for the money they just showed us a slip of paper, which said something along the lines of "i have no husband and 3 children to feed etc etc" (i don't think they could speak English). The slip of paper in their hands was clearly printed from a computer (?) and they both had the same text on. Now if you gave these women some money were would it go?? call me pessimistic, but i really doubt they get to keep all the money they get given, they probably have to "report" back to someone who takes the money off them and if their lucky perhaps feeds them and gives them a roof over their head (I don't know their situation or they're background I'm only speculating), but by giving them money aren't we condoning such exploitation?? (here's an example of more extreme cases)

George and the two women are very different case but in effect aren't they both examples of begging? i'm not sure how i feel about begging. in fact whilst writing this post i've changed my mind several times. Sometiems i give money sometimes i don't, when i don't i feel heartless and inhumane, when i do i ponder whether or not they were telling me the truth.......i think ultimatley only Allah knows everyones true intentions ..... that goes for the beggar and the giver

Kids and the things they do!

2007-04-14T23:07:00.000+01:00

Children never fail to amaze me. A few examples....

(WARNING: if you are eating then don't read this!! i repeat do not read this!)

Example 1:
My cousins had come back from their holiday in Portugal, As it was lunch time we thought we'd take them some food as my auntie was probably too tired to cook anything ( it was a take away we couldn't be bothered to cook either). So there we all were sitting at the dining table eating and catching up as you do. Then my little cousin (he's 6) decides to add his tuppence worth to the conversation, although unlike most he was talking AND eating at the same time. His dad reminded him that you don't talk with your mouth full, so my cousin (being the little genius that he is) calmly took out the partially masticated contents of his mouth and stored it safely in his tiny yet tightly closed wrist, finished what he had previously started to say and carefully replaced the hand full of "stuff" (I'm sorry but that is the only way to describe it) back in his mouth, as if it was perfectly normal to do this. (At the time the whole table erupted with laughter but in hindsight it was disgusting.)........ The logic of a child is an amazing thing.

Example 2
An earlier incident occurred last week. We had been given the DVD of my dad's cousin's son's (lol!) wedding and we thought it would be a great chance for all the women to get together and watch/laugh at/gossip about the film. So we did. The chosen venue was at my grandma's, the night started off with a takeaway and then me and my sister proceeded to the front room to put the DVD on (and no it doesn't take two of us to put a DVD on before someone mentions it we just both went at the same time). Now my uncle has an x-box which also plays DVDs, however the x-box was currently in use by two of my cousins (again young ones, 5 and 6) so we patiently waited for them to finish the level they were on, well... OK we didn't wait till they finished the level my sister got impatient half way through and then turned the game off. In response to this my sister was labelled a MEANIE BIKINI. This cracked me up i found it hilarious yet once i had stopped laughing i was quite surprised at how a 6 year old would have heard the word bikini, i for one hadn't heard of the word until well into primary school. Also something that has just occurred to me i can't believe a 5 and 6 year old were playing on an x-box!!. Childhood doesn't last as long nowadays...

(P.S. something else I've just realised in both instances a takeaway was consumed....maybe it's something in the food?)

S.H.S

2007-04-10T12:37:00.000+01:00

I've discovered my first "psychological" illness it's called Selective Hearing Syndrome (S.H.S) and you're all the first to hear about it :)

Prevalence: Mainly found in South Asian women

Age of onset: Symptoms reach their peak in the 60's but symptoms can begin to show as early as the 40's

Symptoms:
Although there are no physical symptoms, the illness has several contradictory symptoms which often leaves friends and families bemused and baffled:

At times sufferers may seem to "ignore" what you have said to them, or it may appear as if they have not heard you, particularly when it comes to greetings and general etiquette phrases such as please, thank you, etc. At a later date the patient may use this as leverage, for example, complain to the accused parents that they have no manners, in such a way that the accused now seems like nothing more than a mannerless brute.
Another similar symptom is that it may seem as if the patient is not listening at all but in fact their ears are working over drive. Again any information gained will be stored safely and used at a later date for leverage.
However at other times the patients ears prick at hearing their name and voice various, larger than life conclusions without hearing the rest of the sentence i.e. they may feel the world is plotting against them, and their own family is gossiping about them etc. When in fact the accused said something of a very innocent nature.
Other more general symptoms may include speaking loudly when there is no need, and requesting people to repeat themselves.

Course of illness: Symptoms can show themselves at any time and without prior warning, therefore there is rarely a fixed pattern.

Co morbidity: Can also occur with various other psychological illnesses such as depression and schizophrenia (particularly paranoid thoughts)

Treatment: As of yet there is none, as once the symptoms are present it is hard to keep them away permanently.

An unfortunate event.....

2007-04-06T19:21:00.001+01:00

It was in the dead of the night......
The shrill sound of an alarm could be heard......
Little by little i gained consciousness, until i was fully awakened. The irritating alarm continued, my pale hand glowed in the surrounding darkness as it groped aimlessly on the book shelf for the offending Mobile phone. My fingers grasped an oval and flipped it open, the light emanated outwards filling the room with an eerie blue glow. Squinting at the source of the light i realised it was 4.30. I managed to drag myself out of the the warm, cosy bed and reached for my light switch. The instant light stung my eyeballs as i struggled to get my feet into my slippers. I opened the door and stumbled into the dark abyss that was the hall way, to my immediate right was a door..........

And thus the story ends abruptly as it is sometime during entering the bathroom to do my ablutions, praying my pre-dawn prayer and stumbling back into the warm folds of my bed that an unfortunate event occurs which i have no recollection of.....

A twinge of pain was felt in my left ankle several times during my sleep after praying, but i paid no heed to it....

It was in the morning light (OK maybe it was noon) that the unfortunate event surfaced...... i stepped out of bed and as i stood up, placing my left ankle forward, an intense pain spread across my ankle. A further inspection of the wounded area mysteriously yielded no results, as no sign of damage was to be found....

The rest of the day passed feebly hobbling around the house/garden (we had a barbecue). As the day progressed, the affected area swelled up and an odd bruise could be seen forming on the ankle bone(?).......

What could this oddity be? how did it happen? Should i go to the doctors?

find out next week on an unfortunate event (cue theme song......:)

Why there can only be one God...

2007-04-04T18:06:00.000+01:00

I'm back on the big bumbling buffoon that is the PC, our electricity went out the other day ( reminds me of the good ol' days in Pakistan) when it came back on the wireless thingamajig had a blown fuse so the Internet on my poor ickle laptop doesn't work (sob,sob, sniffle, deep dramatic sigh).....
Anyway back to the topic in hand, I've started these online Aqeedah/Tawheed lessons run by the middle way sisters. It's really good because you can decide the time to suit yourself and you can do it in your pyjamas if want to :D. I had my second session yesterday and the sister was giving arguments as to why there can only be one God. I found them to be so logical and commonsensical that if i didn't believe in one God already they would have converted me on the spot, so thought I'd share them:)

(WARNING: the following text is VERY deep and took me a while to get my head around it so you may have to think about it for a while before the penny drops)

Whatever God wills happens, therefore if there are 1+ Gods and one wants something to happen whereas the other doesn't then what happens? either one will get their way thus the other is not a God as he cannot do as he wills, OR both will happen..but how can two opposite things happen at once?! OR none of their wills will occur thus making them both unable to execute their will, therefore neither of them can be God
To be able to distinguish between the 1+ Gods there needs to be some difference between them, otherwise whats the point of having more than 1 if you cant tell them apart right?! BUT for them to be different must mean that they have different attributes, yet God has only perfect attributes, THUS one of them would probably have attributes that aren't perfect, so how can they be God if they are not perfect in every way
If one God is sufficient enough to manage the worlds then what is the need for the other one? If one God is not sufficient enough to manage the worlds and another God is needed then neither of them can be Gods as they are needy and dependent on each other, whereas God is in need of nothing from no one (double negatives and alliteration:))
If there is 1+ God then each of them should be able to hide things from the others , if they can then the other Gods are unknowledgeable as they are not all knowing (therefore they cannot be Gods). If they are unable to hide things from the others then he cannot do as he wills and thus is incapacitated
If there are 1+ Gods with equal amount of power then the summation of their power must be stronger than each of their powers alone, therefore making the sum of their powers more perfect than each Gods individual power. THUS this suggests that on their own the God wasn't perfect in the first place which is impossible as God is perfect and without the need of anyone. (Partnerships and associations are a sign of imperfection in them selves, as it implies a need for the others in the partnership)
If there is more than one God then perhaps one is able to "buy" the other one out and remain the only one in power, if so then the other one is weak (yet weakness isn't an attribute of God?!), If none of them can "buy" the other out then are they really God as they cannot do as they will..........

300

2007-03-29T15:12:00.000+01:00

Went to see 300 the other day, I must say it was a very gruesome film. It had the potential to be a good film but it was a bit of a let down. It had unnecessary nudity which I think was purely used to attract a wider audience (or repel as the case was). It was very gruesome too, with some disturbing scenes of head chopping and general gory violence. The plot/storyline was weak too, so much so in a few cases it was easy to predict what was going to happen next (word for word once!!). But I suppose the plot was compensated for by the graphic battle scenes which were attention grabbing, although a few times it seemed as if the Spartans were merely out in the garden getting rid of weeds rather than killing people. The ending was a kind of “make your own conclusion” we don’t really see/ know whether the Spartans win or the whether the Persians conquer Greece, a bit unsatisfying really… I suppose it makes you realise how gruesome war can be… but that’s it really. Actually yeh…. there is something else that the magic of hindsight has made me realise…..I can’t help thinking that there were certain undertones in the film i.e. the “Persians” consisted of, Black men, Chinese men, Indian men, a Hunchback, Giants, Lesbians and so on so forth whereas the Spartan’s all happened to be Caucasian males with rippling muscles and perfectly formed bodies. Coincident? Me thinks not. However the highlight of the day had to be successfully managing to run all the way up the down escalator!! , I’ve got grazed knees to prove it!! (Hhmmm I bet that was a sight….4 hijabis running up the wrong escalator!)

Just a temporary measure

New blog take 2...

A new blog....

Those little folk again...

A conversation...

Fate...

Sometimes bad things happen for a reason...

Real muslims...

Child speech v.s. adult speech

New beginnings...

I’m back!!... (From nowhere in particular)

Kids and the things they do!

So thought i'd update....

TGIF: Thank God Its Friday!!

Letting it slip through my fingers...

A Strange Day...

Et Voila!

*sigh*

Kidulthood

Death is in the air...

Back to the old routine..!?

An ode to the gerbil

The ease to my hardship...

Hardship and Ease...

A God send (literally!)

Dear Readers...

A kodak moment...

The bigger picture...

Which do you live in?

One of those days...

Look what i found...

Links-R-Us

Learning to embroider #2

Boys of Baghdad high ( A.K.A fortune part one)

Learning to embroider #1

Mishy's Tag *grumble*

"How leisure came”

Films, Films, Films

Ymiss’s tag

A trip to Urbis....

Tagged?...i think not...

Planning for the future

Tote bag tutorial

The curious incident of the dog in the night time

Fabric...

Stardust

Race issues #1

Summer Reminiscence…

"Blackle.com - Saving energy one search at a time".

Psychology and Islam

More sewing...

Sewing, Sewing and more Sewing

The Little Things in Life

A box full of yummyness

A Published Author

The Perfect Autumnal Dessert.....

Walking boots: £20.00, Combats: £8.00, View from Mount Snowdon: Priceless

The Lake District

Requiem of a dream

A random question....

An interesting phenomenon

Pieces of a Paki

Snowdon challenge!

Saira Khan's Pakistan Adventure

Personalised packages

I'm all for equal opportunities sooo....

60 years of independence...

A visit from the fireman...

Marbling Memories

The Kite Runner, The movie

Getting away from it all...

The Grapes of Wrath

Children learn what they live

Scribble

Me and My Hijaab

oopsss.......

Don't you just love.......

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Karen Armstrong

The Facebook Phenomenon

sigh

Mishy's Tag grumble