happenings since…

… i last posted on here.

i was thinking a lot – obviously, DUH! – about phylosophical deep things which i won’t detail on this page (no, i’m affraid you’ve received as much enlightment as to my life as you’ll ever get, i think!).

i attempted to make myself useful by doing something which will benefit me around summertime, 2010. this failed, somewhat. but al7amdulillah regardless.

i also seriously pondered over what plan suits my life best, from this year onwards.

when people say they don’t do new years resolutions, they lie: either they are saying they and their lives are so perfect that improvement is unwarranted, or they deny that in fact much improvement is needed, especially from within, such that no other human can bear to know its true magnitude, and thus these prayers of improvement are left with Allah.

i subscribe to the latter congregation.

Allah only knows what this year holds for me. good, is all i hope. even bad things that i can permanently learn from, can be good, still.

either way, inshaAllah 5air.

oh, and by the way, my parents are incredibly averse to the idea of any of their offspring marrying a non-somali.

i did not, thank God, discover that the painful way. i had no hopes, it was a proposition more than an offer. a whisper through the grapevines, if you like.

he was iraqi. and young. 4yrs my senior, when the whisper reached my ear. i think in reality perhaps 3 years separate us, and a little.

let’s not make the matter grand. it was what it was… a whisper, nothing more.

i went shopping. to the sales at oxford street. i queued not, if you perchanced asking me, in front of the Gucci and Chloe houses (amongst others) in selfridges.

i did, however, do the incerdulous deed of going out to sales, to buy something “cheap” (lies, i tell you) and instead emerge out of the civil cold war that happens once a year, having bought something which is, though unlikely to “break the bank”, was in fact anything which best describes the opposite of cheap, and will perhaps be sitting most its days inside the warm comfort of my precious wardrope.

it’s only use, that object which i bought, is to make me look more refined and presentable if and when i need to draw the world to myself. it works too, mark my words.

i like the object’s designer, who shan’t remain anonymous (i’ll unveil him below), simply because i am perhaps the fussiest female i know when it comes to fashion and style (though i have been known to buy worthless articles of clothing), and he, let it be known, is the only person in whose design i habitually find something… naturally appealing to me.

something which can only be best described as though it were me, designing clothes for me. or, as i prefer to understand it, as though i were the maniquin on which he tailored his womanly designed and derived his creatively elegant, expertly hand-crafted style. it feels hand-crafted, mind you… donno if it really is.

said designer is….*drum roll*….. Jasper Conran

i must admit; one wades through life’s endless ebbs and tides which one, at that instance, insists on remembering to record here later… then when one finally manages to write the curves said ebbs and tides, one is either at a loss for words which best suit these waves, or one cannot for the life of oneself recall what they were. though they mattered much, at the time…

funny, huh?