Hey Ya'll!
So I know I haven't posted any rants and whatnots for eons now, and I feel awful for that!
I sorries!
 Life has taken a sharp turn for the busy, but Allhamdullillah, in a very good way! Weddings to go to, parties to plan, packing for Pakiland (yes, I'll be headed there soon Inshallah!! ) so all in all, busy but fun.

I've had a lot of things that I've wanted to write about but because I haven't had the opportunity, they're still bullet-point ideas in a notebook. However, recent inquires have made, at least this entry, an absolute necessity. So, I hope my life and rants continue to entertain you as you read on! xD

Now, as I stated above, Inshallah I'll be headed to Pakiland soon. The most exciting, and frightening, thing about it is that this will be my first solo trip there. 
0____0 is the constant state of my mind and face lately.
But the interesting thing on the part of everyone else, is that no one wants to believe that I'm going to Pakiland just for the sake of meeting my family. I won't say everyone, but QUITE a few people think I'm heading over there to trap me a man! (Yes it's one of those entries. Brace yourselves).

So yeah, this is the common misconception of my life at the moment. That I am going to Pakistan to find a husband and live happily ever after with him, I, and that tantalizing green card.
Because you know. I can't get a guy here.
Nothing to do with the fact that I am not interested in getting married at the moment.
Or that I've told my parents no Rishtas.
Or that I'm focusing on loans and school.
It's because I CAN'T get a guy here, so I'm going there. Where some guy is bound to yes, if only for the allure of coming to America.

............
Seriously?!!?
Can I get a break in this department, because that would just be greatly appreciated.

I don't know what this blog should be considered - a rant? a public awareness announcement? a hissyfit?
Whatever it is, it is being typed as I think, to relay one major message: I do not want to get married right now.
Again:

SOBIA IS NOT INTERESTED IN GETTING MARRIED RIGHT NOW.

I have horrendous loans on my head, an education with minuscule-ly slow progress, and no job experience.
Marriage is definitely not on the top of my priority list. Or even in the middle. 
It's actually floating somewhere at the bottom amongst  travelling to the moon and adopting a penguin to raise in Texas.
Look, I'm not saying that if the right guy happened to drop into my life and get down on one knee (metaphorically speaking) that I would say no. That's just silly. But so far as I can see, my right guy hasn't made an appearance in my life yet, so! Back to the blog.

My most major concern is paying off my loans, which will take a while. But I just can't see myself going into a marriage with x-amount of loans as baggage. The way I see it, PCOS is enough baggage. I'm not keen on adding anything more with that, especially considering all that PCOS encompasses. (If you need a refresher, here's the link:http://sobiasiddiqui.blogspot.com/2011/09/be-warned-we-will-be-discussing-lot-of.html)
So just for general knowledge, here is the plan for the next couple of years of my life (Inshallah Inshallah Inshallah!)
1- Get a Job.
2- Pay of loans with said Job.
3- Finish getting a degree from somewhere.

And then we'll see.
Without that, I feel like I have nothing to offer. Am I just supposed to walk into marriage with the promise of a fabulous personality and a football team of children, and hope everything works out peachy-keen?? Sarcasm intended indeed.
I want to work when I get married.
I'm not trying to bash the housewife aspire-ers. I actually really commend housewives because they are able to manage life with a grace that I just do not possess. But I aspire to be a worker. Either a teacher or a social worker, or something. But I'm not one of the girls that the life of a housewife is suited for, at all. So I can't go into a marriage without a means of working. 
Don't get me wrong, I do want my husband to be the breadwinner and, please, take care of me. Whether we live in a 4 bedroom house, or a dinky single-room apartment, I don't care. I just want to be taken care of by my husband. With my paycheck I can take care of things like my little luxuries, or gifts we're supposed to give, or little house needs, etc etc. But those things. I want to work, and I want to be cared for, and I want to be a partner to my husband, who can take care of him as much as he can take care of me. And considering all those wants that I am ill prepared for, it really isn't the time for me to be getting married right now. 
Plus the other fact of the matter is that I am just enjoying my life a lot as it is. I'm in no rush to go changing something that's already been so good, Allhamdullillah.

So back from my tangent, no. No, to anyone who is curious or was curious, the answer is no. No I am not going to Pakistan to find a husband.
And you know what, while we're on this subject, allow me to specify why this would not be a possibility even if I was trying to get married.
Just like we grow up with a certain lifestyle in America, with habits and expectations, the same obviously applies to people all around the world (I know ya'll are all smart enough to put the whole abundance of differing cultures and social structures hand in hand, but this is just a quick reiteration).
And we expect all that, plus understanding and chemistry and all that jazz from our spouse.
Now maybe if I had been raised in a traditional Pakistani home, none of this would be an issue. But that's not how I was raised. Allhamdullillah, Ammi and Abu have always been quite open minded, trusting, and they have been open to growing with their kids. So while my parents are Pakistani, I am a Muslim American girl, with blended morals, interchanging speech with Urdu and English, and values from every aspect of my life.
Our experiences shape us. And my experiences have not shaped me to be a 'typical' Pakistani girl. Or even a 'typical' American girl. I don't know how you would define me, but I don't think it could be with one main adjective.
Anyhoo.

The point is, being raised in this mixed environment, I have grown up in an certain manner with certain ideas and habit.
None of which make me a good match for a guy living Pakistan with his own environment, manners, ideas and habit. Being family makes no difference here.
Now the list can go on and on, but here are the major reasons why my matrimony with a Paki dude in Pakiland, would just not work in this universe.

1 - I hate making chai. I mean seriously, I despise making chai. I'll make chai for my parents once a day because obviously, they're my parents. But even that is just... gawh!! I don't know why, but I hate making chai!  I like to drink chai, but because I don't like making it, I don't drink it often. But I don't think my liking or disliking chai would have anything to do with the expectation that I would have to make chai. And considering that this is a major aspect of the daily life in Pakistan, this loathing would not work.

2 - I don't like to clean. My house is not dirty, but it is very disorganized and cluttered. I've tried to fix this and it just doesn't work. I'm just naturally a disorganized person. Now in Pakistan the women have maasi's to come do the housework. We have maasi's here to. House cleaners. And they charge an arm and a leg. Not gonna happen. Even getting married to a guy here would mean calling someone maybe every 1-2 months, unless I get the spring cleaning bug. Which is very rare. But a guy brought up with a daily maasi would probably not adjust to my cluttered ways very easily..and probably with a lot of hostility...not good for a marriage. (On another quick side note - I know I'm implying that I'm not willing to change. Now while that's not exactly true, I'm clearly not willing to bend a whole lot. In my justification, I don't plan on going into a marriage with the intention of changing my husband either. That's gotta count for something).

3 - I do not cook. Ok no, I like to cook, but I do improv cooking. I like to experiment with new dishes, making them as well as dining out. I do not do the three times a day cooking. Actually I love to go out and try new restaurants. If I could name an ideal characteristic for a husband, it would be that he was as adventurous an eater as I am. And if I do ever get a craving for home food, there are plenty of restaurants that will cater to that need.

And that's just the beginning. There are so many little reasons for why things just couldn't work (at least not without a major miracle).
I'm very opinionated. If I see that something is wrong, I will shoot off my mouth. While I would never curse an adult, I don't think being an adult excuses anyone from making a mistake and owning up to that mistake. And...I tend to point that out. Which doesn't sit well with a lot of people. I get loud. I have an obnoxious laugh. If you try to ridicule me, I will do my best to one up you every time. 
I love going out. I don't know if this would be an issue, but I don't see any reason to end friendships just because marriage is now a part of our lives - for either myself or my husband. 
I can't take being yelled at. I know that when I get mad my voice escalates, which is why I try to stay calm but...anger is my worst enemy and it always seems to win. It's not something I'm proud of at all, but I know it's something that will be a matter to consider. 
Meanwhile, on the opposing end, I can't take being yelled at (how hypocritical is that?) But the fact remains, I really can't deal with being yelled at. If my parents or my brother yell at me, it's bad enough. But if my husband, someone that I have allowed myself to be vulnerable and trusting with to a degree that I've never let anyone else near, yelled at me...I honestly don't know what I would do. I'd probably disappear from sheer hurt. Bawl my eyes out. Etc etc of the unpretty picture.

So all that. At least.
And then let's not forget the physical aspect of it all as well.
Ya'll know, I am no beauty queen. Now Allhamdullillah, I don't crack mirrors or anything. But you are not going to get a size double 0, fair skinned, frail looking Pakistani beauty. And that's just not in my control. With the PCOS I have maybe 15-20 pounds in control, but that's also constantly fluctuating. Everything else...will probably stay as is. And I've learned to be okay with that. Now most Paki dudes are not chubby-chasers so we'll just end that conversation here.
(Dang, I'm just painting the worst picture of myself in this blog aren't I? Lol. Well if a man wants to marry me after reading all this and the others, I guess I really couldn't doubt that he was the right one xD).

Now it seems like I'm bashing Paki dudes and all that jazz, but I promise I'm not trying to. We're playing into stereotypes here. People think that a single girl can only have one reason to go to Pakiland, and that's to get a man. That is not the case here, and I went through just about all the reasons why, as well as why my marrying a guy in Pakistan would probably, most likely, not work (admittedly, considering the most common stereotypes). 
I don't know if that applies to the Paki dudes here, but the awesome thing about here is that there isn't a one race limit. Mashallah, there are Muslims off all backgrounds and races here. If I have to find a husband, when I'm ready, I will be looking for things like shared morals and values (and intelligence is always the biggest attracting factor, so there's that), not racial background. And who knows, if I end up marrying someone out of race, that would just be the best way to broaden my own understanding of everything. Now that is something to look forward to. But if he ends up being Paki I know a few people who will thank their lucky stars xD It makes no difference to me one way or another.
I mean yes I have a slight criteria, but then again, who doesn't.
And correct me if I'm wrong, but I think they're fairly standard - not a drinker or a smoker, hasn't dated (if I save myself, you save yourself. Fair, yes?), open minded, religiously solid (meaning he's a firm Muslim and actually follows the bulk of what he can in Islam), and about as social and adventurous as I am. Is that too much? Idk, that's the list I went off of when the rishtas were pouring in before I officially said no to all of it.

Mann, I don't know what Allah has in store for me. I don't know if and when I'm meant to get married, who to, how many kids, if any, I'm meant to have, etc etc. All I know is that, when it's supposed to happen, it will. And I'm putting my faith in that because mann, I don't do the whole hunting or rishtas deal. It's too emotionally draining.
So I figure, whenever things are supposed to happen, the right guy will just fall into my life and get the ball rolling (Inshallah) and I'm just going to leave everything at that.

So now you. What all came to your mind while reading this? Share all your thoughts! What do you think? I want opinions!

Before I begin I have to excuse myself, and I hope you will too. I've had the plague for the past few days and my thought process is not up to usual speed. I have actually been trying to type this post since 4:30pm yesterday but nothing seems to be cooperating inside me. In any case, this is a an apology beforehand, for the scattery nature of this post. Also as a heads up, you should know, this post is of a more serious nature than usual. Now, onward.

Yesterday one of my father's best friends passed away.
Inna Lillaahi Wa Inna Ilayhi Raaji'oon.

We had known that his final time was approaching. Just over a week ago the doctors said he had between 3 days and 3 weeks. I think everyone put a shield over their hearts with that news so that when it did happen...well I don't know. It's never easier but we're human. We do what we think will make it easier even when we know, the passing is hard no matter what.

I know I definitely put in efforts to make this time easier.
You see, Gulam Uncle had had a stroke, I want to say about 3 years ago. His body was paralyzed, practically 90%. I know his family was in shambles.
The doctors didn't give him more than 1-2 months to live, but Mashallah, he pulled through for over a year.
However, in that year, I think I may have been the only person who had not gone to visit him. Not even once.
I know, it sounds very heartless. And if I have to be honest with myself, it was a purely selfish decision. My dad had gone to see him as soon as he received word of the stroke and when we came back, he seemed to have aged 10 more years in the span of a few hours.
There was depression written in the lines of his face, and I felt like I could hear the melancholy wheels turning in his head.

Abu described Gulam Uncle as a completely different man from the one in my memories.
The Gulam Uncle of my childhood was tall and sturdy. He was the strength and provider in his house. Gulam Uncle was always lively - always joking, laughing and smiling. He had two daughters when we all lived in the same neighborhood, and those little girls gave him the sweetest disposition. I honestly can't recall ever seeing him angry or upset. Gulam Uncle just always created an air of goodness, naturally.
But this was a far cry from the man Abu described.
When he had gone to see him that day, Gulam Uncle was very...tired. Abu said that he was still smiling and joking, but that there was tiredness on his face that refused to go.
Gulam Uncle was worried, and scared. And I know that no matter how much he may have tried, that was something he couldn't conceal.
And all this, it really affected Abu as well.
Abu couldn't believe that someone like Gulam Uncle, someone so strong and firm, could be brought down so hard. I think every time Abu went to visit Gulam Uncle after that, he came back with the same awe and disbelief from the first time. He just couldn't believe it. It made him more concerned for his health too.
I think all fathers have this sense of being the stone walls and foundation of their families. That no matter what, they can do anything, and will do anything to protect their families and that nothing can stop them from doing that.
And so for Abu to see Gulam Uncle rendered completely bed-ridden, well it gave Abu a harsh bit of reality to deal with.

All of that, all of that is why I couldn't bring myself to visit GulamUncle even once.
I couldn't handle the thought of replacing the Gulam Uncle from my childhood, with the one from present time.

My first memory of him was when I was 6 years old. I joined him,Gulam Uncle, and my father on a fish trip. We spent the whole day going from one pier to another fishing and enjoying the weather. I was so excited because I was the only kid who went with them, and on our trip I caught 4 little fishys and man, I just felt like the coolest little person ever.
After this memory I have little scarps of Gulam Uncle. He and my father were always very close, and that naturally made him a father-figure in my eyes.

I didn't want to see Gulam Uncle after his stroke because I knew that the Gulam Uncle who lived and the Gulam Uncle who was sick were practically two different people. I didn't want to remember GulamUncle as ill and bed-ridden, I wanted to remember him as the fun-loving father that I knew him to be.
And I think I succeeded in that.
I don't have the same image of Gulam Uncle in my head that most other people have.
When I hear someone talking about Gulam Uncle, the pictures that come to my mind are of our fishing trip. And of Eid namaz. And dinner parties and late night games of karem board and cards. I remember him being able to pick up his daughters in one fluent swoop, and laughing and talking with his booming voice.
That is the Gulam Uncle that I will always remember.

He was always in our prayers, but even so I know Gulam Uncle suffered a lot through this past year. And with him I know his three daughters and wife suffered as much in heartache.
I know as humans we have a tendency to question why the good people in life suffer the most.
But growing up in a Muslim household, we were always taught that God's greatest servants, are the ones that are tested the hardest.
I believe Abu and I have the same perspective, and it gives us the same hope - that the fact that Gulam Uncle suffered so much means that Allah never forgot him. That Inshallah, this past year gave him a straight ticket to Jannah, Inshallah.

Now it's the people who are alive that I feel more sorry for. A person passed, is a person passed. They will be missed, but they are part of the mystery of the after-life now. The people alive however, they have to adjust without someone very dear to them.
I know Gulam Uncle's wife and daughters will be kept in many people'sduas, and there will be many people who will put forward the efforts to take care of them Inshallah.
But I know none of that will make up for this immense loss. I can't begin to imagine what they have had to go through. His wife stood by his side, unwavering, the entire time.
They had the knowledge that Gulam Uncle's time was coming to an end, and they continued to make memories with him, and care for him and each other.
They are a family to be admired, truly.

Inshallah they will be taken care of, and Inshallah Gulam Uncle isJannah bound.
Ameen.

Before I begin, you ought to know my 'Fashion' history, although I hesitate to call it fashion because it wasn't. Even though I knew what looked good, and what should and should not go together, I never bothered to emulate any of it in my own wardrobe. As you will see, I have always been about comfort.

When I wasn't in charge of my own clothes, my mother bought me basic colored shirts or flowery prints, and pants - usually slacks.
When I got older my colors delved more into blues, blacks and grays, with the occasional pop of purple or red. I was always a huge fan of distinct jewelry so odd necklaces and dangling earrings were always a part of my wardrobe in middle school, even if they didn't ever go with anything else that I wore.
And then in high school I started my hijab so most of my earrings and necklaces went into storage. My colors were the same for the most part, but I added big sweatshirts to the whole look
a) because I could still wear my half-sleeved shirts that way and wouldn't need to go shopping and
b) do you know how comfortable those things are?? If I could, I would live in them!

Actually, now that I think about it, I kind of did live in those big sweatshirts all through high school..

Anyways, 2009 brought about the first year of college, and my style didn't much change. And when we went to Pakistan that summer of 2010, I had some suits made exactly the way I wanted, and so those became a part of daily wear as well. And that carried over through sophomore year as well.

As you can probably tell by now, I've always been about comfort. And honestly speaking, I was just plain lazy when it came to clothes. My mother had always taught me to wear loose fitted clothes, things that didn't reveal your body in fitting or sheerness, so that was never a challenge to emulate. But beyond that, I was lazy. If it was clean and 'modest' I'd throw it on and walk out.
I never bothered to match or iron anything - hobo hijabi for real yall.

But now, for the first time in practically 8 years, I'm trying to rework my whole wardrobe. And I gotta tell you, it's a freaking challenge.
I know what I want and need, but man, there are an abundance of clothing stores that do not cater to hijabis. Naturally. That's the fact of the matter so no complaining, but this does mean I have to look high and low for my pieces.
My goal for the past couple of months has been to incorporate more dresses and skirts in my wardrobe, and get rid of all of my old slacks, wrinkly shirts, and over-sized sweatshirts.

Ok, I'm lying. ALMOST all. I still want to keep a few professional pants around, and of course my salwar kamiz suits will still be there because those are perfect for me. I had them made super long and loose, but in a dress shape so I don't look like I'm drowning, and I think it would be silly to get rid of them when they work so well for me.
Anyways, so little by little I've been replacing my old closet with a new one, and the reason it's a slow process is because I'm picky in this particular field.

And I'm not picky in the sense you may be thinking. Colors and prints are a free for all. But the modesty check is where I'm picky.
Questions Muslims ask when buying clothes:
Is it long enough to cover my back and front when I sit and stand?
Is it loose enough where the figure isn't being revealed?
Is it solid enough? (Do you know how annoying it is to buy something only to realize it can't be worn because once the light hits it, it becomes glass?? Gawh, it's quite a nuisance).
I don't much ask about colors or sparkly things because thankfully, everyone wears all the colors and glittery things offered in shops, so I feel like that doesn't draw any more or less attention. And the neckline I don't have to worry much about either because there will always be something on top, or under, and then my hijab also drapes over my shoulders so thankfully I don't have to worry too much about that.