Chuga Chuga

As frilly and feminine as I am, I have to admit to something: I sometimes wish I was a boy. Life is so much easier as a boy, and they are granted more privileges and freedoms than us girls. I've come to terms with that a long time ago, though, convincing myself that my parents simply loved me more than my brother and therefore gave him free reign whereas I was watched over and protected at all times. I belived myself more valuable than my brother. I was such a fool.... last year. :)

Ramadan 2010 is coming to a close. This is the first year that I prayed all my prayers on time and managed to finish a few chapters of the Holy Quran. Yet I can't help but feel that something is amiss. It's a hollowing, consuming feeling that is the source of most of my frustration (the other sources are redundancy in the media and writers' block). I am fairly disappointed with my lack of spirituality this year, but on the whole, isn't that what being a Muslim is about? Always wanting to reach further?

My laptop is still dead. I can't really afford to get it repaired right now, because it costs half of my monthly allowance (which will not be disclosed so stop fishing). My parents can't really keep a secret that well, because they keep telling me to borrow laptops and computers when I find myself desperate for one in the meantime, because I never know what might happen around my birthday. Thank you, King and Queen Obvious. And Prince Obvious while we're at it, because my brother keeps telling me to not buy a new laptop (for the record, I came out as HRH Princess Sarcasm). Oh well, I'll just go into hiding until a new laptop arives as a bundle of joy on my doorstep.... in December. On the 21st. I hope. I SWEAR.

This is going to be the fourth time I use a completely fictional, weird sickness as an excuse to not go to the salon with my cousins. 'Oh there's this weird fungal thing on my knee that hurts when I get my hair cut..'

Isn't that Kureiji? :)