The Muslim Orange

Walked around a lake today. Rollerbladed around the same lake a second time. It kinda hurt but it feels good to still know I got it. Went with my mom to this crazy insane land called Flea World, where I saw many a varied thing, but the most relevant is all the gorgeous pashmina scarves I am drowning in now. Hi, pretties.

Took a micro-nap on another lake, (what’s with all the lakes today?) and then got guitar lessons from my cousin.

Today was a good day. 🙂

The Muslim Orange

Rejuvenation Plan

“Facebook is like jail. You sit around and waste time, write on walls, and get poked by people you don’t know.”

This is a quote my friend shared with me today and it is so true. I’ve been spending an obscene amount of time on Facebook while avoiding my other duties and it’s really taking a toll. So, I have once again deactivated my facebook and plan to apply myself into other more life-affirming activities.

There’s something I’m avoiding now, and it’s writing my feature story. I hate going back and having to review my digital recorder files. Transcribing is such a bore, and such a pain. But once it’s all out, once it’s all up there, it’s a beautiful thing to go through and write it out. There is this zone I enter. It’s a place where I don’t feel the need to eat, sleep, or engage other people. It’s a glorious thing.

Here is the grand total of articles I wrote so far this semester:

If I write ten in a semester, I get bumped up to staff writer position. Next semester, insha Allah!

This semester has been…so, so taxing. It’s taken everything I have and more. I daresay, though, that despite everything not only have I kept my head above water…I may have even thrived. At times, not always. But thrived I did.

Spiritually, I’m exhausted. Cored, whittled, burned out. This winter break is going to be a time of spiritual rejuvenation. It can be nothing else. I won’t have it, nor will I survive the semester to come, any other way.

Now, a list.


A List of Awesome

  • No promises I can’t keep
  • Interact with people less and soul more
  • Scuba diving/snorkeling (did I mention I ordered a Burqini?)
  • Fajr at the beach
  • Swimming at the beach
  • Canoeing
  • Long walks in the morning
  • Re-establishing my relationship with the Quran
  • read real books, made of paper and glue
  • lose the pesky weight I’ve gained over the semester from my coffee-gulping, emotional eating ways.
  • Possibly go vegan again.
  • Be happy.
  • Learn Urdu (fluently)
  • Go ice skating
  • Get a bike
  • Fly a kite
  • Climb a tree
  • Read the Orlando Sentinel and Washington Post everyday
  • learn how to play the guitar


Whether or not all of this gets accomplished, I know not. But at least I will attempt to do so! Plus most of the things on my list do not require money.

I can be happy. I can, I can!

And now, a monologue on thinness. This is what I really feel, I truly feel that I will be happier if I’m thinner. I’m not fat, I know that, but I weighed less than this at one point in time and I miss it. I’ve a brief window of opportunity this winter break and I cannot let it slip through my fingers. I shan’t have a care in the world to eat emotionally about this winter break and thus should have no excuse. No excuse.

Is it sad or alarming that I only want to get married when I’m sad or depressed? When I feel hopeful and committed to rejuvenation all thought of marriage goes out the window. In fact, I find it distasteful. I think, my God, life is over when you get married. Life as you know it is over. I’m not ready. I haven’t done the things I want to do, I’m not the person I want to be when I get married! Wait, wait!

There is something beautiful about waking up to a neat, clean room, getting ready to face the day despite whether I am going out or not, with clean hair, teeth, face, and nails. It makes me feel so much better. When I’m sad I let this ritual slide. Today was one such day. I lounged in my pajamas all day watching Netflix and surfing Facebook until I shook myself out of my stupor. Now I regret not “getting ready” sooner. I could have gotten so much done.

My cousin is giving me my first set of guitar lessons tomorrow. Now instead of eating mindlessly when sad, I can strum a few chords and sing a sad tune until I feel better. Plus, it’s so much more attractive.

I wanted to take guitar lessons in high school. Didn’t do it because I was scared. Haram! people would say. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. All I know is that hearing my cousin sing Wish You Were Here and pluck a few strings under a night sky with a crackling fire going made my heart feel a little lighter.

We’ve hands and hearts, and we’re gonna make it better.

i'm lost, The Muslim Orange


This semester has killed my soul and deadened my heart. From outward dunya standards I’m doing great, but inside I am just silently screaming. Ya Allah, let it be over soon. I know there is more to life than this rat race. I don’t want to be a zombie that comes back to life when the “week is done.” I want to be the creative person I was before I got bogged down in what everyone else wants from me.

Today my film professor asked me if I was okay and I burst into tears. She held my hand for a second and told me to talk to her after class. I forgot. I really did mean to talk to her.