hijabeng

October 20, 2011

Women Don’t Talk Right.

So yeah, check this http://blogs.hbr.org/cs/2011/10/four_ways_women_stunt_their_careers.html. I could do an analysis but why should I, when this blog did it already? I have to say, I absolutely AGREE. With the whole women holding themselves back business. Speak up. Promote yourself. Get your biznis noticed. I mean, come on. Nobody else cares about you.

Women being too modest. Hmmm, what would a Muslim chick know about that, anways? Somehow, it all comes back to beliefs. Yes, I believe modesty is important and all that jazz but an even more fundamental tenet of Islam is fulfilling rights. And sometimes, I need to hold other people accountable to make sure they fulfill the rights I have on them. Why should I be so caught up running around making sure things are all dandy for them and not me? Because I’m so nurturingly awesome? Cry me a RIVUH.

The other super thing about being hijabi, in ENGINEERING (God, the lack of women sometimes) is that I can’t blend in. No matter what. Even on the way out, “Oh HijabEng, do you need to use the men’s room?” “Nah, I’m good.” “OMG I’M SO SORRY. I MEANT THE LADIES ROOM. I MEANT THE BATHROOM. I’M SO SORRY.” “WHAAA??? Oooooooooohhhh, HAHA, you said men’s room. No, I’m ok. I don’t need to use ‘the facilities.'”

I did recently have to “speak up” at work and let me tell you, I was TERRIFIED. I almost cried. It was hard, relating what I needed and what wasn’t working for me. But I put on my big girl panties and I’m happy I did it. Things are different now and they would never have been changed if I hadn’t said anything. We all just would have been frustratedconfusedface at each other, and who really needs that? Especially after I finally weighed in after 3 weeks and found out that I gained half a pound and am now 160.X and that is just @#$&%&%^%?????

Peace out.

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October 12, 2011

Expired Office Foods and Passwords

On a typical day, I bring an banana (yes, I know it’s supposed to be “a” but “an banana” sounds better) and an orange to work. So I have two snacks, one for the morning and one for the afternoon. It’s great, nice sugar rush for 0 points.

But we ran out of oranges at home, so I only had the banana yesterday, so I enjoyed that in the morning with peanut butter. Come afternoon, I was SO VERY HUNGRY. Ravenous. And I couldn’t think, for want of food. I wasn’t actually hungry but my mind knew it was snack time so it was all I could concentrate on. I didn’t want to raid the candy bowl as I’ve been a Fatty McButterpants lately and going downstairs to get food – OMG choices, no thank you. So I raided my closet. And I found an expired granola bar. And let me tell you, it was bliss.

In the course of yesterday’s raid, I found a serving of chocolate pudding. Hiding behind plastic bags or some business (really, I should clean the closet out). I have no idea how long it was there but I was holding on to it for the future. Like today, after I had my lunch, I really wanted sugar but didn’t feel like making tea (w/Splenda, of course, let’s keep the unlimited 0 points rolling over here) so I found that pudding and it was MINE. It was so perfect and delicious and God bless preservatives.

That pudding was meant to be found, I tells ya, cuz I read the expiration date and it said enjoy until October 28, 2011. Which is almost 2 weeks from now. Is that fate or what? I was divinely guided to that pudding. Yummmmmm…..puddddding =). Which, by the way, reminds me of the stoopid “pudding face” ads in train stations. They’re creepy as anything. Huge, gory, stretched out smiles on people’s faces, ugh. No thank you.

I don’t know what I’ll do for a snack this afternoon but I did find oatmeal in my closet a few weeks ago and that’s still there. Maybe I’ll have oatmeal. It’s good to know I’m eating my “emergency” food during non-emergency events. Excellent survival skills.

With all this exciting hunting for food in the office business going on, it’s easy to see why I keep forgetting that I recently was forced to change my password at work. UGH. I ABHOR changing passwords. They’re required by the company every something-or-other days. SO ANNOYING. Every single password cycle, I’m always on the verge of locking myself out of my machine. Stoopid policy. Yes, of course, it makes sense, but it’s SO SUPER ANNOYING.

The end.

September 21, 2011

I’m a Weirdo

Je ne sais pas, but I definitely have a certain je ne sais quoi. Actually, I could write that whole sentence in French, cuz I’m cool like that. Je ne sais pas mais j’ai un certain je ne sais quoi. Or something like that, high school was a long time ago.

Back to the point, there is just something about me that attracts strange ones like children to ice cream trucks. Maybe I smell like ice cream? I don’t know. But there you have it, I smell like ice cream and my coworkers come up to me randomly throughout the day just to talk. About nothing. While interrupting me and others.

Example Un: A coworker gave me a rock. Yes, a rock. It’s currently keeping a napkin, gum, and white-out company on my desk and occassionally hinders my computer mouse. I don’t know why he gave it to me, he just offered it to me and I didn’t know how to say, “Uh, why exactly are you giving me a rock?” without sounding like a 6itch. He also collects rocks, off beaches and parks and buys them from rock stores. Yes, there are stores apparently where you can go for the sole purpose of buying a rock. And I’m not talking about a souvenir shop where rocks are a side attraction so that parents will be forced to waste money on their kids. Rock. Store. Yes.

Example Deux: Another coworker stopped by to tell me that he problems with his iPhone. Why he thought I would care is beyond me, as I, nor anyone in my family own an iPhone. Or iPod. Or iPad. Or iMac or any sort of iThing whatsoever. And he wasn’t on his way to talk to anyone either, just came to my desk and talked about his issue. And then left. Like, whaaaaaaa?

After the case of Example Deux, I bugged my cubicle neighbor and asked, exactly what is it about me that invites these people? I told him to be honest cuz I just.don’t.get.it. Like whyyyyyyyyyyy. At one point in my career, people used to stop by my desk and talk to me for so long that my supervisors actually spoke to me about it. It actually interfered with my workload! And the offenders were spoken to as well! He said that some people have that something that just draws people in. He doesn’t know what it is, exactly, but it is apparently observable in the 3rd person. Others have mentioned this to me as well. And I’m considered *nice*. And that I have to learn how to be mean to people at work. Oy vey.

And that’s just the dangest thing ever, because I used to have such a hard time in school with friends. People were scared of me and some actually really did not like me because I was loud, blunt and rude. After a while, when they got to know me, they’d say, “Oh, that’s just HijabEng, that’s just the way she is. Once you get to know her, you’ll love her. I used to hate her when I first met her, too.” Ha, that just reminded me that my best friend ever actually hated my guts when we first met. Ha, both of my best friends. Too funny.

And it’s true, I am loud, blunt and rude. I tell it how I see it, no filter, no way, no how. Shrug. I suppose in a floor of engineers, maybe I am nice? It’s prolly cuz I have a higher pitched voice. I should work on having a permanent cold to maintain my sexay-man-voice. Next project, perhaps.

September 20, 2011

Tip of the Day: Groceries for Work

Tip: If you know you’re going to be a starving beastmonster, then please, prepare for your monstrous appetite from home. It’s great that you grabbed that spare jar of peanut butter and your sister’s lunch on your way out but at 5 points for 2 tbsp of peanut butter, that’s a lotta points! Put that spoon away, consider the candy bowl haram and start adding fiber to your diet, you moron. Ugh.

So, I shall grab some part-skim mozzarella string cheese, a bunch of greek yogurts, light cranberry juice, and wasa crackers to add to my at-work arsenal, as well as some type of milk, to hold me over when I don’t bring enough fruit in. Typically, I bring a banana and an orange to work but sometimes, I only have one or the other. I should bring oatmeal, too. And eat more veggies. I should also actually *do* these things instead of blogging about them.

Note to self: Do Things. Get Ish Done.

September 12, 2011

I Accidentally Lit a Napkin on Fire

Filed under: I'm a Weirdo,rambling,Work — hijabeng @ 1:00 pm
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Or, Toaster Ovens are Dangerous. Dangerousssssss.

So my mommy made me a breakfast sandwich this morning (be jealousss, haterz) and I brought it to work with me, since I didn’t feel consuming the egg-in-a-bagel while commuting. We have a toaster oven at the office, so I just popped it in there while I continued on to my desk, signed in and did some randomness at my desk. I return to my sandwich and I’m faced with a dilemma – sandwich is too hot for me to retrieve. So I stick my napkin in there to grab my sandwich. And napkin ignites. IGNITES!!!!

A piece of napkin broke off and continues to dance in flames while the flaming napkin in my hand quickly gets tossed in the sink, and gets drowned posthaste. The in-toaster-oven napkin burns itself to death and I patiently use another napkin to grab my sandwich. This time, it only gets charred and I was off to enjoy my delicious sandwich. Thankfully, the silly exploding napkin didn’t ignite my sandwich. That would have seriously made me sadface.

Moral of the story: I’m a hazard. The end.

August 18, 2011

Melancholyyy…..

Filed under: rambling,Work — hijabeng @ 5:08 pm
Tags: , , , , ,

Such a pretty word, isn’t it? A fancified way of describing a case of the doldrums. Sigh, I don’t know what it is. I feel so ungrateful for feeling so blah but I just.don’t.get.it. IDONTGETIT. I have everything, everything a person could ask for in my situation and it means nothing to me. Maybe my life is too materialistic? I don’t know.

I remember a lecture in where Shaykh Yasir Qadhi said during the Q&A session that a true believer, one with true iman (faith/belief) could never be depressed. Their faith was so perfect that depression couldn’t affect them. And hearing that really depressed me. So I convinced myself that I wasn’t depressed because if I was, then I wasn’t a true believer!!! Gasp, horror, sigh. I was so naive. And I think Sh. Yasir Qadhi, someone I have the utmost respect for, is a little naive (and maybe even ignorant?) for ever saying that.

Honestly, I don’t know if I’m depressed or not but then again, I don’t know what depression feels like. I’ve heard it being explained like your mind is unwell, similar to how your body can be unwell. I know what burnout feels like and that’s not what I’m feeling. I’m not stressed out but I feel anxious. Like I should be worried about something but what that something is, I don’t know.

So, current status of HijabEng: She Doesn’t Know.

In other news, that thing that I had to quickly scramble to do is coming along nicely and my supervisor agrees with everything I said. It’s so weird sometimes, these hot and cold reactions, all under a very polite veneer.

HijabEng’s advice: Beware of Polite People.

I have 80 million things to do and I want to do them but I just don’t have the will to. Eh. Whatevs.

The end.

August 17, 2011

Wearing Foundation in the Field

My advice: don’t. Concealer, maybe. Bullet-proof eyeliner, perhaps. But a full face? Oh no no no.

So this morning, I woke up in a cheery mood after my post-suhoor nap (so like 5 am – 6:30 am??? good times). I decided that after spending the entire summer neglecting my face, barely powdering/smearing concealer under my eyes and swiping on eyeliner and blush, I’m going to put on makeup PROPERLY, and cover up my acne scars and blend blend blend. Inspired by the good mood I always get into after performing fajr on time (isn’t that a great feeling? One of my favorite things about Ramadan), I picked a pretty taupe dress with a neon magenta and neon coral floral print (huh, that sounds more horrific than it is. I assure you the dress is pretty).

I got my pretty clothes, my matching shoes are waiting for me in the office, have the perfect turtleneck and dress pants to wear with the dress (it’s freezing in the office and during my commute, I need heavy clothes) and perfectly matching scarf. And my face, mashAllah. Totally work appropriate and very pretty. I was pleased. I even wore mascara (of which I’m not a fan, shrug). Since I’m in such a good mood, I managed to leave home earlier, get a free parking spot near the train station AND catch an earlier train. Boom, boom, POW. Good stuff.

And then I come to work. I see this email, that my supervisor wants to be updated on something he randomly assigned me that absolutely belongs to someone else. So I say ok. And then he wants more than I realized. So I call shenanigans and schedule a field visit for this afternoon. Now, we need permission for various things, including taking a company car out. My supervisor saw me walking around with the approval sheet and told me he’d initial it before I get our boss’ signature…..except I’d already gotten it signed by our boss. Since when does everything need to be initialed? Gripe. I know, it’s a non-issue but sometimes I feel like we’re cool and other times not. Like did you not want me to haul butt to get this stuff done pronto?

So, I’ll be going to the field. Soon. And even though I’ll stay in the air conditioned car most of the time, I knew my face was literally going to slide off. This pushed me not to delay zuhr and make wudhu promptly. After I finished washing my face, the joy of seeing flesh-colored water sliding down my face was only increased by the utter triumph of my eyeliner and mascara tripping down my face. Not to be left out, my eyeshadow climbed all over my eyeliner and lashes and turned the beautiful blackness gray. Oy. Alhamdulillah for controlling the mess on my own terms. It would have been way worse for this to happen more slowly-but-surely in front of a male coworker in the field. But I still get to look pretty in pink =).

I cannot believe I forgot how to wear makeup to the extent that I’d forgotten what it would be like to make wudhu. I shall have to do a post one day about office/wudhu friendly makeup. Hmmm, maybe a whole series on makeup. Including random reviews. Why not? I’m the boss here, right?

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