I hate being babied! [Sometimes]
June 1, 2009 § 4 Comments
I am so frustrated and angry right now. Yes, I KNOW i wrote a post a while back that I won’t be blogging but this place is for me to rant and rave and I needed to turn somewhere. My other blogs are far too serious.
Right. I hate it. Absolutely freaking hate it sometimes. I dislike having a stupid 9:30/10:00pm curfew [Can’t believe I’m admitting this on here…] and it runs in the family. My Dads policy: no matter how old you get, if you’re living under him and you’re his daughter, you have to come home under a certain time. So yes, my 33 year old sister STILL has a curfew when she is over and shes married!
To a point I can understand, they’re our Parents, girls aren’t supposed to be out so late and they’re also pretty accomodating sometimes when they know its a wedding or whatever, but sometimes it just irritates me when I’m out somewhere and it gets lates and the calls start coming in. Not to mention, it’s highly embarrasing when you need to accounce in between people that you need to LEAVE because its getting late and you have a curfew.
I know for a record its not about trust, my Parents know I won’t be out doing anything wrong, like walking into a club or going out on a date with some guy. In fact, I’m more strict about things like religion then they are. No, the problem is safety issues and no matter how many times I tell my Parents its absolutely safe, even after dark their curfew alarm doesn’t stop blinking.
I mean, I even wear a darned Niqaab when I go out! If that isn’t an armour on its own I don’t know what is.
Usually I’m the most chilled person about this, I’m back home on time and all that jazz, but sometimes its so freaking frustrating when you’re out somewhere doing some social work or wherever and it gets late. I’ve been volunteering recently to sort out donations for SWAT somewhere over here, and sometimes it gets late.[ The other day i came home at 11 pm] So that day they were cool about it as I’d called and explained that things were being shipped off and we needed to work till late.
But today was an absolute disaster. Something or the other turned up and I couldn’t go and help put. I’m very passionate about these things, not to mention I’d told people there I’d be turning up today to help out as shipments were being transferred.
Anyway, finally, the car comes at 8pm. But lo and behold! My Mom throws a fit out me driving at 8pm. She goes and tells my Dad and I’m told not to go. I don’t understand why my Mom doesn’t still trust my driving… She thinks I’ll crash everytime I drive just because I got my license recently. In fact she still hasn’t sat in the car with me yet.
I want to bang something. Literally. Or shoot someone.
It sucks being the youngest sometimes. Because no matter how old you grow, you’re still the baby.
On a totally random note, I absolutely love the respect you get from Muslim Men if you wear Hijab or Niqaab. Totally makes my heart smile. [Not to mention that it sprouts fear in in their hearts and makes them uncomfortable, mwaha]. I’ve been working with a couple of your average decent Muslim Guys for the past few days, packing and sorting things and I’m the only Niqabi there. Some of them won’t even look me in the eye for more than two minutes, I think the Niqaab automatically makes them look somewhere else, which although is a bit funny makes me think it’s utterly adorable. And obviously I’m given a wide berth should I walk into any place. 😀
And then you have those rare cases who are actually interested in you regardless of the fact that they can only see your eyes, hands and hear your voice, and although they do it respectfully and indirectly, they don’t fail in professing their ‘interest’. Hopefully I won’t be having to deal with anything ‘serious’ by the time this campaign is over. It’ll just make things horribly awkard. Ahem.