So, here I am. Dressed up and ready to go with my mom to my Aunt's house. We're waiting for my mom's friend to come pick us up.
It's been nearly an hour and with repeated calls. It seems like every time I ask my mom where they are the answer's "near". This makes me wonder how far near really is. A mile? Two miles?
Anyway, by the time they came I was hungry and tried to pull off a catwalk down my sidewalk towards the car entrance. Okay not really, I just looked the epitome of cool, hopefully.
The driver of the car was my mom's friend's daughter. She was really pretty -masha'allah- and during the whole car ride I listened to all of them (including my mother) speaking in rapid arabic. I didn't understand a word of and pretended to text. (Why isn't she answering dammit!) By the time we got there, all of my hopes of going to my Aunt's Gym was dashed.
It was maghraib time.
"Would you like to lead the prayer?"
-flattered- "Me? Sure!"
But like I knew I would, I failed horribly.
Well, not really. I started to say suratal fatiha on the third rakat but remembered we had to stay silent, oops.
After that began a long string of food and laziness. Totally not compatible with wanting to 'exercise'.
There I was ladies, in the dining room. On my right was my dear mother and on my left was the friend and my aunt. In front of us was a huge bowl filled with enjera, salad and meat. -drool- food in general makes me drool. It was a strategy game. First one to finish the whole bowl wins. No siding with one another and each had her designated area of food. Okay so I have an active imagination, sue me. Anyway,digging through the large portion I discovered a large piece of meat.
I named it Bubba
Call me crazy
Then, while attacking the ginormous bowl, my mother brought up my wanting to go to the gym. It was 6pm and my mother thought it wasn't good to go out so late. I was a bit mad and was taking out all of my pseudo-anger on my section of the bowl. When I had looked down I was taken over by horror! I had minced Bubba up! -sniff- He was the best meat a girl could have.
He tasted good too.
Fast forward to later on after I took a walk with my little cousin, I arrived back and the friend (who by the way is a very good family friend, I've known her since I was a kid) had set up the hookah/sheesha. Now last time I was here, I chickened out and let my pseudo-cousin (cousin of a cousin) take a hit. And yes I know it's bad but I really wanted to. There I'd be, pimpin with my stunner shades on at night (yes, I'm that cool) taking sheesha hits with ladies who are old enough to be my mom. Heck, one is my mom! I've only done this once and that was when I was what, 11? It was when my dad's sister (Let's call her Auntie South) visited us for a month and she was a big hookah person. She carried it with her everywhere, and when my father was home, she'd bring it out. Only she'd be the only one doing it.My dad smokes, she hookahs hmmm does smoking run in the family? Anyway, my sister's brother (He'll be Uncle A) also stopped by for a visit and wanted to try it. Then calling me downstairs stuck it in my mouth and said "Try it!" My dad kinda protested but I was already hackin away. One puff is all it takes (cue Surgeon General warning and police sirens)
After that incident, I was hesitant for some time, but now I was just darn rebellious. I wanted to try new things and do insane stunts, -although begging to go to the gym and taking a hit of hookah isn't really rebellious -hey, you take what you can get. Then as I was psyching myself up, that tiny annoying little voice of reason popped up.
You know habibti, you shouldn't be doing this, it's haram
Oh shut up
This one puff can be the blot on your permenant record, do you want to be resurrected smoking on the sheesha?
Who said I was going to die?!
You nor I know whether that happens or not, but you have to answer Allah swt on the day of Judgment for harming your body
IT'S ONE HIT!
One hit is all it takes
-song in background-
"Bad Boys, Bad boys, watcha gonna do, watcha gonna do when I come for you, Bad boys, Bad boys...
GRRR FINE -stomps out of conversation-
I need to get out more.
BBUUTT like an inspiration from God, and a slap on the face for trying to do something haram, I spent the next two hours watching mindless television and eating sugary popcorn.
It. Was. Awesome.
Luckily, before when we were picking up my Auntie (Mom's cousin) from the old people home-she works there she isn't a y'know- an old personage- We called my Uncle and asked if he wanted to come he could take me to the gym. Now let me tell you how far it is from my Aunt's home to the Gym.
Approximately 50 steps. Yes, I said 50.
But you had to be over 18 to attend alone, and although I could totally pass for a college student, my Aunt (owner of the home not Auntie South nor Auntie Oldpersonhelper) and Mother wouldn't allow it. So after dancing in front of the mirror in the bathroom from pure boredom, my Uncle arrived.
Don't worry I had hijab on.
Then ensued the greatest 15 minute cardio workout ever! Picture in your mind, a hijabi wearing a lavendar pashmina scarf (torture!) a black long sleeve top, black sweats and on top of that a black zip up hoodie. She has an iPod attached to her ear and is trying to read the captions of the large tv in front of her. Let's wait till she falls.
But, I didn't! So ha to all you nay-sayers! Instead I sweated like a pig while I ran a mile and burned 150 calories. Bummer that you have to do so much to lose so little. After, I tried the cycle but my uncle got tired of Cnn, SNL and some asian drama playing on the separate screens. He then left me to walk back to the home by myself.
Boy, did I run my fastest. I basically beat my own sprinting record if someone formally timed it. But no one was there -frown-
After my cool down period, my Aunt told me to bring out one of her abayas. My face literally lit up. "ABAYAS?!"
"Yes, the gold one."
-spazzes even more-
And let me tell you the abaya was GORGEOUS! With gold trim and some sequins here and there, it would've been perfect on me hadn't there been the slight fact that my Aunt is shorter than me and the abaya didn't flow past my toes.
But I had fun either way, plus I get to keep one yay!
Now... you may be thinking, where art thou dear child?! Well I am still here and yes they're still smoking the sheesha, I told them it was bad for their health and as long as my mommy doesn't do it, it isn't my business anymore.
Time to get me an abaya,
hugs and kisses for reading this insane post,
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