I'm happy. Well, minus the shock and bewilderment at my state of happiness, and the fear that I will drop back into misery again tomorrow because today is an aberration....

Now, I only need to study, and I shall feel productive, too!

For the past two days, plus today, I can total the amount of hours I had complete privacy with Tariq.

Half.

Sigh. It hasn't been three days that Tariq's home, and his family....

Is his family.

...

How do you be honest without saying bad things?

Don't get me wrong. I love Tariq's family. They're wonderful. His father is strong and so very caring. His mother is elegant and so smooth. His brother is funny and sharp. His sister is sweet and bright. I love them all.

The problem is that they don't love me back.

It's so unfair to Tariq. Damn it, I don't want to take him away from his family. I want to be part of his family. They still act like I'm an ostrich among giraffes. I guess it's my fault too. I get so tongue-tied among them. I don't know what to say, and they don't know what to say, and we just stare at each other through the corners of our eyes, until Tariq shows up and I skedaddle to his side for comfort.

I see them as a family, and god, I would just love to be one of them. I would just love to go up to discuss marketing with Tariq's father, and human resource with his mother. I would like to hang out with Tariq's brother, and laugh to his amazing wit. I would like to take Tariq's sister out somewhere she would just delight in. God, it hurts so much that I admire and love them all already, but they just see me as the girl that Tariq spends way too much time with.

Why can't they see that if they accepted me, they'd get more of Tariq? Instead, I just feel uncomfortable in their house, and try to drag Tariq out instead.

Then, one single friend lifts me up from despair, and I remember why I chose to have lots of friends, rather than one sole best friend. I pray to God that I never forget that reason for so long that I would actually start dumping friends left and right.

Friends disappoint because they're human. I have no business expecting friends to be perfect. That is why I chose to have lots of friends, so that when one friend is being temporarily, disappointingly human, there are always other friends I can turn to, that temporarily are super-human.

To all my friends, I ask you to forgive me for all my nasty thoughts of any of you, even though you have no clue what nasty thoughts I've been thinking. Chalk it up to pre-menstrual syndrome. I love you guys just the way you are, so you guys just be who you gotta be. I'll play to your strengths and cover your weaknesses, okay?

Prioritizing
I divide everything into Important and Urgent, Important but NotUrgent, UnImportant but Urgent, and UnImportant and NotUrgent. Important means things that forward my goals (pass exams, produce play, keep all relationships) like studying (NotUrgent) and rescuing friends in deep shit (Urgent), while Urgent means things that need to be done NOW! NOW! NOW! like answering my cellphone (UnImportant) and rescuing friends in deep shit (Important).

I dump all things UnImportant and Urgent, in favour of all things Important. For example, if I'm rescuing a friend in deep shit, I'm not gonna be answering a call from some stupid male trying to hit on me. I complete all things Important and Urgent first (obviously), than move on to Important and NotUrgent, when I have the time. For example, I'll rescue my friend in deep shit before I study.

Delegating
Wherever possible, I try to figure out how to pass on the stuff I have to do, to someone else. For example, I can call someone else to rescue my friend in deep shit (though you may think I'm callous--but why does who rescues her matter as long as she gets rescued?), but no one else can study for my final exam for me. I can hire someone to clean up my room, but I don't think hiring someone else to argue my case with my boyfriend would work.

Delegating is tricky business, because you have to find someone who can do what you want done effectively. I don't ask someone who doesn't know how to drive to send my car for servicing. I recommend training people to do specific things. The more people who know how you like things done, the more people and the more activities you can delegate to. For example, I gave Tariq all my passwords on the internet, so I could delegate bug-fixing to him. I teach every actor and actress in any play I'm directing, the steps of practice session so that they can run a practice without me there to run things.

You also have to make things worthwhile for those whom you delegate to. Reward the friend who cleans your room up with a snack at Coffee Bean. Do a trade: I'll accompany you to find your mother-in-law's present if you save me time by cleaning up my room for me. Tell the friend you rescued from deep shit that he/she owes you, and so must do your essay research for you.

The truth is that I go every six weeks, while a man has to go to the barber more often than that. That is because, my hairdresser has the skill to cut my hair in such a way, that even two months without a haircut, my hair still looks good, while a barber’s neglected haircut would be a mess after two weeks.

Second, I sadly admit to thinning hair. Lack of nutrition. Too fond of starving. My amazing hairdresser has such skill, that my haircut minimizes this flaw. If it wasn’t for my hairdresser, my thinning hair would look a lot worse.

Third, my amazing, fantastic hairdresser cuts my hair in such a way, that I can wash and go. Men either cut their hair so short, they can’t do anything with it (as in fuzz), or they wallop tons of gel or hairspray on their head. My hair stays in its parting or lack of parting, or whatever my hairdresser makes it do. When I kept long hair, my amazing, fantastic hairdresser cut my hair to minimize frizzing. Yes, girls, half of the frizz battle is won at the hairdressers. Not with a gallon of gel, but with a good haircut.

Fourth, for the amazing, fantastic skill of my hairdresser, they normally charge a good amount more than fifty ringgit. Ninety ringgit even. Mine charges only forty. I worship her, and I pray for her eternal health and wealth.

Your hair’s best friend should be your hairdresser. Forget the shampoo, forget the hairspray, forget the hot oils. The most important being to your overall appearance, is your hairdresser. I go there, and sit down, and let my hairdresser do anything at all with my head, because I know that she is such a good hairdresser, that she would never make me look anything less than great. If you can’t trust your hairdresser, than you have the wrong hairdresser. Get out! Get out!

That’s why I fork out RM40 every six weeks for a haircut that looks like I got it at the barber. I know without doubt that I will always look good with hair cut by my hairdresser.

Time stated above indicates moment entry was written.
This entry was uploaded at 04:05 p.m.