POLOS... Polos... must have... polos

And there are none in the house. OOh hubby will get it in the neck later.

Right, well then. I'm tired. As usual. Boss ran himself into a stupour in AWorld today as I told him I wanted value-for-money this time - get climbing. He tried, but got "stuck" at the top of a ramp *rolls eyes* and then such was the knock in his confidence he didn't try again. But I know he *wanted* to. He said he liked it anyway, so that's good.

Polos.

Sorry. Where was I? Boss screamed so much that his voice is all hoarse. I would say "aw" but it was nice to have a quiet(er) Boss at home :P Aw.

Must have... polos

Windscreen still smashed and no seatbelts in the back of car. Waiting for a crate load of money to drop literally from the sky. If anyone finds the crate, it's mine.

MINE.

I prayed zuhr today at AWorld and I think I freaked some non-Muslims out who moved away really quickly from me as they must have thought I was talking to myself. Reminds me of something Sheikh Nuh said - that in Western society praying in public is the only thing considered truly obscene, and I didn't feel too comfortable doing it, even though I sat and prayed rather than prayed on a mat. Like when I went to the hospital yesterday for blood tests I took my tasbih with me (as usual) and when I started using it people suddenly gave me the oddest looks. I wonder why the sacred bothers people so much here?

This article made me think about this issue a bit more. Queen Margrethe of Denmark is quoted as voicing disapproval of "these people for whom religion is their entire life". Well, we all live our life for something, don't we? Why is it the mundane and profane are perfectly acceptable things to centre one's life around, but Ultimate Reality (or "god") isn't??

I have these issues with my family as well who are totally embarrassed about my Islamic identity. My mum has confessed "I wouldn't mind if you were Muslim so long as you didn't tell anybody"... *shrugs* ... and whenever I pray they act all embarrassed as well. My mum actually said "Oh I wish you'd be just like you were before you became 'Muzlim' (I hate it when people use the 'z' instead of the 's' to say 'muzlim' instead of 'muSlim'). Well, hark back dear Mother, that before I converted I was a die-hard communist/atheist punk who took no prisoners; I drunk too much, was depressed too much, I had ugly rings lampooned in my face, my hair was such a stupid shade of red that if I stood at a junction too long cars stopped and waited til I turned green, and I'm surprised I wasn't arrested and taken in for questioning by the fashion-police as well. She would rather I was a drunk and a rebel unknowing of when I would roll home and/or whether the police would knock the door rather than someone who tried to sort their life out.

Anyway, make a mental note *don't pray in public again*.

Aw, my dh has just walked in and given me some Polos. And it's raining outside and he walked all that way for them. Maybe he *does* love me after all.

...