Diary 3-11-2007

The woman spoke about the housing market, prices and interest rates. It's worth paying more in todays money for a parking spot.
I opened my eyes. I've acquired a new piece of knowledge that I won't be able to attribute later. It's hard to get oriented when you've had so little sleep, and the radio often incorporates itself into my dream. The intrusion is at its worst when it's the news. Images of war and death are quite unpleasant in my dreams.

It was half past eight and I'd snoozed a few times already. Sleep should not be this scarce, but there was a whole new day waiting and I could no longer delay facing it.

Groggily I dragged myself out of bed, I have an appointment with the hairdresser this morning and need to shampoo. I always spend more time in the shower when I shampoo my hair. It's impossible to have three, four, or even ten minute showers when shampooing. I feel guilty about it, but there must be another solution. Whoever came up with these figures cannot possibly understand what it entails to deal with long, thick curls. They just have no clue.

It's ten and I'm still chewing breakfast. Having breakfast is a weekend novelty, I don't want to give it up. I need to make a phone call before leaving. I have this day planned almost to the second.

Ten minutes past ten and I'm on my way. It's all going according to plan. I remembered how much I'm enjoying driving a manual. Apart from the pure enjoyment of it, it's a great show off factor. Girls don't drive manual, usually. It has shock appeal. I like that.

Traffic though was not helping. I suddenly remembered that I was taking the worst possible route. I was going past the race grounds on cup weekend. I'm still enjoying the drive, but I'm running late. I was supposed to be there early, but now I'll be late.

It gets worse, there is no parking. I spend a full twenty minutes looking for parking and finally arrive forty minutes late for my appointment.

Midday, I'm stuck in traffic again. It's raining now and I actually do a burnout in front of the dozen or so cops directing traffic. God I hope they're not feeling cranky today. It could get interesting.

I get home just in time for a very quick check of my email. There are disadvantages to being a social node. It's time consuming at times. A lot of time is spent trying to maintain relationships. Each in its own way and each in its own medium.

Three in the afternoon and I'm already receiving a message informing me that my next catchup is stuck in traffic and will be late. I didn't bother replying that I too was stuck in "yucky traffic" and am running late. Finally we find each other and find where we were supposed to meet.
This is a friend I had not seen in six years. We had emailed every once in a while and rarely spoke on the phone. Actually I think it had been a few years since the last phone conversation. Our lives are dramatically different now.

Her father was dying and she was coping in her own way. She was planning. She has no control over her father's death, but she has control over what she would wear to the funeral. So she enlisted my help in hunting for appropriate clothing. I think I am the only rope some people have to link them to Islam, or Muslims. She was wanting to find trendy scarves to wear to the funeral. I didn't think it was morbid, just practical. I would probably do the same thing if I were in her shoes.

The shop we went to was quite the discovery. I think she loved it more than I did, but I wasn't going to tell her my criticisms. I've learnt how my words can sometimes affect people in ways I had not intended. I remained silent. She was very enthusiastic. I was once like that. It seems like a long time ago now.

We caught up over coffee and a hot chocolate later. We've both moved on a long way, but were still the same people. She told me how she was tired of people in her lives trying to control her. That she was too busy to notice if she was happy or not.

It's seven already and I'm still changing in and out of my jeans. I like wearing them, but this may not be an appropriate venue for them. I don't want to feel under dressed. I'm running late again. It's raining.

I finally decide to be comfortable. It was never about the jeans. It was about the scarf. Did I really want to stop wearing it? How strong would I be? How confident am I?

Seven thirty and it's me this time that is sending a message that I would be late.

I'm meeting with some friends tonight that I have not seen in ten years. That is a long time for someone my age. I don't have many ten years behind me. I'd done a lot of growing up in this decade, but I'm still the same person. I'm just living in a very different life.

I can't find this place. It's raining, I don't want to keep looking any more. I simply ask one of the other restaurateurs. He smiled at me and said "come this way"
I was surprised, I apologised for asking him directions to his competition. "No" he said "we're only happy that people come to this area, the owner is a good friend of mine. Say hello"
"And who am I saying hello from?" I asked
"Rob" he responded as he pointed to my destination "enjoy your night and come by have a coffee after your dinner if you like. You are a very beautiful woman"
I was flattered. It was small, probably inappropriate, but it gave me that bit of confidence I was looking for all day. I didn't regret keeping the scarf.

Dinner was great. These were the people I liked back in school. We posed for lots of pictures. Will be posted in our facebooks soon no doubt. My other friends will see this part of me. It's all me but they see different sides.

There was a male belly dancer at this restaurant. The food was quite bad, but the belly dancer was a novelty. It was a guilty pleasure watching him gyrate so professionally. He was good. All the women flocked to him. Was it the dancing or was it the pheromones mixed in his sweat?

We were all single at the table. I remembered why we'd lost touch a decade ago. Out of high school everyone of them found a boyfriend, and our outings turned into me feeling quite uncomfortable and left out. So I simply stopped coming and they stopped inviting me. We'll never admit to that of course. 'We just lost contact', 'we moved' lots of excuses, none really true. Our lives moved on and here we were. All single. They've come round. They finally understand.

It's not about finding someone, one friend said. If I wanted to, it's the easiest thing to walk out to that club over there and pick up as many as I want. The problem is we're picky.. and the guys are intimidated because we are independent. I laughed on the inside. I thought this was just a Muslim problem, but apparently not.

I heard news of other friends. One, a close one who had helped me through a rough time, was not in good shape. She had acquired a disability. I was saddened. This could never happen to "us". This happened only to other people who appear on tv, not in real life, to my real life friends. But we were living in the real world, some more real than others. We all get what we are meant to get.

Eleven o'clock and I'm stopped at a traffic light. Two men, probably intoxicated in some way, are stopped to my right. It's a warm night and our windows are down, trying to feel some of that rare breeze. "Hey" they yell out at me "what's with the scarf? why are you wearing it"
"It's a religious thing" I answered despondently.
"what are you?"
"Muslim"
"what nationality are you?"
"Australian" I was in defensive mode by now
"yes but where are you originally from?"
"Australia"
"originally, where are you originally from?" they were getting frustrated by now
"my parents are from Australia, I'm not from anywhere else"
"can you get that?" they asked
"yes you can" I said and was thankful the light had turned green and skidded off at speed.
What I should have said was " yes, anyone can choose to be Muslim regardless of where they are or where they are from", but I was too defensive and caught off guard by then. They will never remember anyway.

I picture myself giving advice to a child. 'child' I say in my imagination 'you just be what you are, everyone else has their problems behind this facade. You just be what you need to be. You don't need approval from anyone'.
I wished someone had told me that as a child.

It's almost two in the morning. I'm ignoring another male. He's shocked that I've rejected him and he's behaving in quite an immature way. It's easier to just ignore him than to deal with it right now. I need to rest.

I will now retire this day. Put it past me and wonder. What will tomorrow bring? What could possibly happen? Who will I be?