Me taking express breakfast in the car !
Credit to my dearly pet sis for snapping this pic !
I barely knew my parent or my siblings . We grew up separately last time – even now . Still , I love them for who they are even though they don’t love me back – I’m fine with that . Sort of .
It’s really hard to get together and snap a photo or two as one complete family due to certain circumstances , for that I just have this photos with me ..
All I ever wanted is , all of them to be happy and healthy all the time ! After all no matter how awkward we are when we’re together , they’re my family and that’s the only treasure that I’ve got .
For that , thank you lord above .
THANK TOU .
Dear Young Teacher Down the Hall,
I saw you as you rushed past me in the lunch room. Urgent. In a hurry to catch a bite before the final bell would ring calling all the students back inside. I noticed that your eyes showed tension. There were faint creases in your forehead. And I asked you how your day was going and you sighed.
“Oh, fine,” you replied.
But I knew it was anything but fine. I noticed that the stress was getting to you. I could tell that the pressure was rising. And I looked at you and made an intentional decision to stop you right then and there. To ask you how things were really going. Was it that I saw in you a glimpse of myself that made me take the moment?
You told me how busy you were, how much there was to do…
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Before my first post, I thought writing was all you needed to do to run a blog. Perhaps it is enough to run a blog, but it’s certainly not enough to run a successful blog. If you write more than 2 blog posts you will almost definitely enter phase 1.
It turns out it is no fun writing if there is nobody to read what you are saying. So you work on getting followers. You tell your friends. Some of them start reading your blog. Some of them wish they could have a conversation without you bringing up ‘that damn blog’. And others ask you about it regularly, but never actually read it.
Eventually you run out of friends to promote your blog to and you focus on finding strangers to read your work. Perhaps you start to follow other blogs and find like-minded bloggers. Or…
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There are three aspects of my identity that really can’t be untangled from each other:
I am a queer woman.
I am a feminist.
And I believe that there is no god but Allah, and that Muhammad is Allah’s messenger.
Yeah, it’s the third one that usually gets the record-scratch reaction.
I was raised Muslim, but in my teens, I became severely disillusioned with the faith. Having finished reading the Qur’an in English for the first time, I started to fully appreciate just how easy it was for people to twist and re-interpret the book to serve their own needs. I realised my father had been doing that to me for years, with his rules that he swore came “from God” and his restrictions on my behaviour that were all part of me being a good Muslim girl. Cover yourself so men don’t…
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“This is it” you vow, when you finally join your flatmates in the pub just missing last orders and having to drain their cider dregs. “I’m leaving TV.” But you will not leave TV, even at your most adamant and even if you try. Here’s why:
You are essentially paid a lot for not a lot.
Yes we’ve all done that equation where you divide your rate by the hours you actually work and announce that “really, I’m on less than the minimum wage!” But there is a counter equation and if you worked out how many of your working hours are what the general population would count…
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Right, here I am stating my opinion. In a post about opinions, and how they are really not all that great a thing after all. More than a little hypocritical, I will agree.
I do want to make a general point here about the validity of opinions, but before I do I think I should set out my stall a little more neatly than usual. We are all entitled to our opinions. There, I’ve said it. We are all not only permitted, but within the context of education and society we are actively encouraged to hold opinions on everything from which football team is better to the inherent dangers of vaccination.
Unfortunately I think we go too far in pursuit of freedom of speech however. We seem to have reached the very strange situation where not only is an opinion permissible, but the validity of each and every opinion is…
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Enough talking, here’s the video.
Thanks to YouTube genius Adam Holt, we now know that there was a secret subplot to Full House all along, and it coincides perfectly with the Washington D.C. deviancy we have come to love from House of Cards.
Michelle Tanner grew up in a home much unlike anyone else’s. She always wondered why the other kids had a mother, while she had three fathers who came across as bumbling idiots.
One was a failed comedian, the other a paranoid neat freak and the last a shady nightclub owner who always found a reason to switch jobs. No one would bat an eye when he would dismiss them with this chilling line, Have Mercy.
Year after year, Michelle continued to watch her life closely, searching desperately for clues to what her family was hiding. There was no way DJ Tanner had gone from a clumsy…
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