Todya is officially my first driving lesson. Not the parking, hill climb, three point turn stuff. The real road. With traffic, pedestrians, traffic lights, bus stops and crazy drivers. All right, it’s my first time. So I’m not the most competent (or fastest) of drivers. I’m still a Learner.
But bloody hell, talk about people driving dangerously. I was travelling at a slow but good speed (40-45km/h) on a 60km/h road with heavy traffic…on the SLOW lane. So, a bus stopped in front of me because it was dropping off people at a side road stop. Which means the bus was in the middle of my lane. My instructor said, pass the bus. All right, so side-mirror check, front view check, shift gear 4, side mirror…car still quite far behind, up speed (I was finally able to travel over 45, yay) and I was about to pass the big yellow bus when the car coming from behind (it was a two lane road) speeded suddenly and tried to pass me just as I was shifting to the right (Malaysians are right hand drivers so the right lane is the ’speed’ and ‘passing’ lane). Stupid driver.
I might have hit him. Thankfully, I had a fast reaction time so I managed to pass the bus before returning to the SLOW lane.
And to think that I would have been blamed if I had hit him. Unconsiderate driver.
All right, most of you girls out there would be flaming and cursing me for dropping 1.5kg in 4 weeks. But believe me, it’s not nice when you realise…
I’m already bloody thin, why the heck do I not gain at least some much needed weight. I’m well below the normal BMI level. So, I’m too thin. Last time I checked I look like a walking clothe’s hanger, – no, that’s too thin – like a plank of plywood hanging to dry in the sun.
My home, today, was raided with a mystery. Mysteriously disappearing money, incredibly ridiculous amounts of money (at last count was almost RM600 in cash).
What makes it a mystery was the fact that these money were hidden(my mom hides amounts of money for emergency). Hidden where? In the most ridiculous spots no self-respecting thief would even think about. Example? In a utility bill envelope, within the folded bill statement, under a table runner, under more utility bill letters. My home has several table runners covering more utility bills. Kinda hard to guess which one unless you actually know where it is. This is just one place.
My mom has lots of places to hide money. Really ridiculous spots if I might add. Truly.
I guess someone or something took it. Blast. Never mind.
Gads, that’s not a flattering picture of mine… Anyway. after reading some blogposts and board discussions I came to a conclusion that I need to vent my spleen about this hijab argument.
Women’s Rights activists and their sort see and feel that wearing a hijab means that I am downtrodden and my rights as a woman is taken away from me. Muslim Activists say that to fully embrace Islam is to display my love for it. Ergo, the hijab.
Me? Bloody hell, have any of these people wore a long, black, non-cotton hijab on a hot day? It is hot. It is uncomfortable. It is my personal jihad. And I still wear it… not full time, I admit – I still play truant when I walk around the perimeter of my home – but I still wear it. A full hair-covering, chest- covering and neck covering HIJAB.
My point? Well, I’ve worn it since I was a kid of 6 years and it is not going to stop any time soon. When I die, most likely, but not before then. Is wearing a hijab denying my rights? Umm, no. I am and still a student, daughter and respected. Though yeah, some other girls have problems with my weirdness *coughyouknowwhoyouarecough* but wearing a hijab does not and have not stopped me from achieving my goals and dreams.
I guess I agree with Obama, a hijab does not cause my rights to diminish. But when a girl is stopped from receiving education because of her religion wants her to wear hijab (France), her rights are violated man. No one should be denied education.
I ran an 8km charity run in the rain wearing a hijab. I scored top honours in my education (Physics, Chemistry, Biology, English, Math etc), studied English Literature (Shakespeare anyone?), and Sociology (Marx, Parson, Weber et al) wearing a hijab. I went camping under the stars (and rain) wearing a hijab. I stayed up until 3-4am at my boarding school patrolling camp perimeters wearing a hijab. I had fun ice skating (falling on my bum, more like), shopping, going to the beach, forest, hills and mountains wearing a HIJAB. Am I restricted? Nah.
As for downtrodden and unable to voice out my rights… Believe me, I have a temper and I will use it. You can say arguing with a stupid guy who loves belittling women in a train makes you stoop down to his level, well, if he annoyed me and denied my right to talk with my girl friends in the train he deserves to be argued with. Bullies usually back down when their victim fights back. Besides, guys seem to respect girls with hijab more. Note the word ’seem’. At least I have no fear of him checking out my bosom.
If you say that not being able to wear sexy dresses and expressing my femininity as being downtrodden. Well, I am a girl and my hijab represents my femininity. Savvy? And as for the sexy dress and expressions, I’ll wait for the love of my life (read: husband) for that.*wink, wink*
So yeah. The hijab is a red flag signaling my religion. I’ve heard of those crazy honour killing, thank you very much, but there’s honouring religion and going extreme on religion. If you, my dear readers, have read my earlier posts you will see that I am just a normal 19 year old girl going through this difficult phase of craziness (read: teenage hormones) and I am the same as any 19 year old except… I’m a Muslim. Savvy?
Any criticisms, objections or suggestions are welcome. Just comment on this post.
All right. It has been a nerve-wrecking, tiring, neck cricking day for me today. Why? Because I went for the Malaysian Road Laws Exam (Ujian Undang-Undang Jalanraya Malaysia). It’s not the exam that gave me the shivers – though I was shivering – but the air-condition.
After a week off my feed I discovered I lost a whole kilo. Thus, the lost of heat insulators called fat. Damned chicken pox. So, as I was shivering in my seat (no. 1050, now serving 1000. Bloody hell, 50 people ahead of me), I read some news. A Puteri UMNO member was hit by a full mineral water bottle and stoned. More Micheal Jackson news. PAS won the Manik Urai election…bla bla bla. Let’s get to the interesting part CARTOONS.
Oh yeah…something clicked when I read the news. What? Was the Puteri UMNO girl married and accused of fornication with a full set of 4 eyewitness? If not…stupid people… If you want to win an election do it fair and square. If not…I don’t know. What goes around comes around. Really. As Wiccans might say, ‘the threefold law’.
So back to me. When it was my turn, at around 1.15pm (after waiting from 10am) I came up to the clerk desk to verify my thumbprint. What happened? I COULD NOT verify my thumbprint. What the…
After poking the fingerprint machine several times and doing it several ways possible (drying off, washing my hands, warming it up), the clerk gave up and asked me to go the my driving school so that I can bypass the system, without using any fingerprint whatsoever. My instructor said I had 6 thumbs. How alien-ish can you get?
Haha. I’m an alien with no fingerprint. Sort of.
I passed the test in one go. 46/50. Yay for me (pass mark 42).
