A Sorta Fairytale

Happy Birthday, Blog

I realized that about a week or so ago, I hit the one year mark on this blog.

This is a HUGE deal!

Writing and I have had a love-hate relationship for most of my life and it is just recently that I have come to realize how much I actually DO love writing, and more importantly, how much sharing this writing is not as terrifying as I originally imagined.

Last year, when I decided to start keeping a blog it was in part because I found that many people were curious about what I was doing with my life in London and that repeating the story dozens of times got tiring and old. It was also partly because I realized I have a lot to say. And finally, and most importantly, I did it because it was something I was really, truly scared of doing. Vulnerability is not an easy look for me to pull off. At all. (I like that everyone thinks I’m perfect all the time. Just kidding…!) 

My newest way of living life to the fullest is by seeking out the things in life that make me the most uncomfortable and going at it like a champ. It’s based off of my silly childhood notion that if you get hurt, you keep pressing on the boo-boo until all the pain goes away - as if there is a certain amount of pain allocated to every wound and the sooner you get it over with, the sooner you’re not in pain anymore.

So I was a dumb kid. Don’t hate.

I’m a bit smarter as an adult, and I’m finding that applying this policy to my fears makes for a much more fruitful existence (although I’m not sure it is any less painful…).

Anyway, with a lot of support and encouragement, my good friend SV convinced me to get started on my very own blog. At first I didn’t tell anyone but then slowly, slowly, I gained confidence and the fear and embarrassment (I’m not exaggerating, btw) began to lessen, allowing me to share. One by one, I started telling my friends and then posting it on domains where possibly several people would have access to it.

Eventually, I even allowed comments - another disproportionately huge milestone. (Seriously, how can such trivial things make a person feel so at risk? I mean, it’s not like I’m going to die.)

Did you know that for the longest time I couldn’t even refer to this blog as a “blog”? I had to use other euphemisms such as “post” or “write” or “piece” or “thought.” I’m not even joking.

We’ve come a long way, baby.

And in the process, I have come to really enjoy posting. I find that my daily experiences are much more enriching because I have a forum to come back to and really analyze and deconstruct what happens around me. There is so much going on around us all the time - and I know in my life, I’ll notice a “moment,” catalogue it for thinking about later, and then just not get around to it…because let’s face it, who sets aside time to “think” about random life moments? We only engage with these extraordinary insights if we’re in conversation or writing. So thanks to this spot right here I grew a lot from thinking about the blind man on the street, the weird mime performance, dance classes, and  Wall-E.

I also realized that I’m not the only one who thinks like me or who finds insight in or excuses to rant about random things like carrots and boxes.

And finally, I realized that with the encouragement and support of others - readers, writers, listeners, sounding boards, mirrors - I can overcome even my deepest, most intense fears.

Thank you :)

"You're So Brave!"

…Says my former student as we march to the front section of the prayer hall, half way through ceremonies.

Just picture it - it’s bad enough having to walk through the outer hallway which is lined with people who don’t want to enter the internal prayer space once the ceremonies have started. But then, once you get inside and sit your late butt down at the back corner where you start to relax and think the worst is over - a volunteer line marshall comes to you and says “Um, I need you guys to go sit up there - we need to keep this back space open.”

Great. You know where “up there” is? All the way at the front front of the prayer hall - meaning you gotta parade past the entire congregation to get to the glaringly empty spot made just for tardy fools like you. It’s awesome because now that everyone sees you, afterwards they can all come up to you and ask why you can’t make it to prayers on time.

Anyway, so I sit down and I see my former student sitting next to me. I give an excited smile, turn back to myself and try to focus. And then, two seconds later, “the prod.”

I turn to my former student and say, “Ready?” And then I get up, throw my shoulders back, and walk to my seat like I’m walking down Euston Road on any normal day. I’m not hunched over, I’m not scurrying like a rat (despite the last post…), I’m walking like a normal human being, one foot in front of the other at a slightly more accelerated pace. It is what it is, you know?

And that’s when my student turned to me and said, “Wow you’re so brave!”

No babycakes, I’m just am what I am - confident and unapologetic.

And see - that’s the thing. You gotta be confident about it. I think we’ve all heard the general rule that confidence is sexy but man, it’s moments like the one today that make me realize how important confidence is. It’s better than makeup, corsets, and high heels when you’re trying to pass for something you’re not. It’s the best trick out there and it works every time, whatever form it comes in - whether it’s throwing your shoulders back and walking with your head up or simply just admitting that you’re wrong and taking it like a (wo)man.

Of course I didn’t want to take the walk of lame in front of my peers and some really eligible guys, but if I’m going to then I at least gotta look like I got this, right?

I felt that last night too when I was practicing for my spoken word gig: there were times when I’d start the piece and realize that I didn’t want to finish it because I didn’t start out right. But what if that happened during the actual performance? Would I fumble about and apologize and get all red and embarrassed? Or do I just forge ahead and make the second half so spectacular that nobody’d remember the trip up in the first place?

Exactly. 1.) You always have options. 2.) Don’t apologize unless you’re wrong or you hurt someone. 3.) Walk with your head at a normal level and pay attention to your posture. You deserve to be here just like everyone else. 4.) Humility appears in how you speak to and treat others, not in how successful you are a making yourself disappear. That’s Houdini, not Humility.

And most importantly…

5.) Confidence is everything.

Thanks for the reminder, Student.

Lab Rat

In Chem labs, rats are made to run around and carry out the experiments of many a mad scientist. The one that I remember laughing about the most was when you put a lab rat in a box, put some cheese on the other side and attach a little electric shocker to it. The rat smells the cheese, runs to it, tries to eat it and then… ZAP! It gets shocked with the little buzzer.

And then, 5 seconds later when the pain subsides, it smells some cheese, runs to it, tries to eat it and then…ZAP! It gets shocked with the little buzzer.

And then, 5 seconds later when the pain subsides, it smells some cheese, runs to it, tries to eat it and then…ZAP! It gets shocked with the little buzzer.

And then, 5 seconds later when the pain subsides, it smells some cheese….

Today, that lab rat was me.

I don’t know when I will learn my lesson. I don’t know when I will stop forgetting what the little painful electric shock buzzer thing feels like and I don’t know how many times it will take for me to realize that the (C)heese is not meant to be eaten!!!!!!!

One Bachelors degree, nearly 2 Masters degrees and 25 years under my belt and what do I have to show for it? Short-term memory, a low tolerance for pain, and an extremely high capacity for repeated stupidity. Just like a GD lab rat.

Information Brat

My lesson planning group just finished brainstorming for this Saturday’s class which centers around nature, God’s creation, and the limitations of human capability. It’s quite poignant, really. We’re tossing around all these ideas, trying to bring in creative, multimedia options when all of a sudden I remember this awesome, awesome video about the earth - it zooms in and out and shows the vastness of the universe and the tiniest part of a cell.

I want to find this video while I’m still running on the excitement of lesson planning (nerdy, I know) and I don’t want to put it off because I’ll either forget or I’ll lose steam. Basically, I want to find this video, and I want to find it NOW!

I could just write this post and reflect on how wonderful it is to even have access to these types of information and resources. I mean, even ten years ago this would be something that I would probably have never seen, and certainly something I couldn’t show my students. In fact, I wonder if the material would even be there. Does the fact that there is a platform for displaying information create more information? I bet a ton of these videos and blogs that crack me up on a daily basis would not even have been conceived if not for the fact that they would be heard or seen.

But alas, this blog is not about how wonderful the Internet and the Knowledge Society is. Here’s where it gets bratty.

Actually now I feel bad writing about how annoyed I was a few minutes ago when I was trying to find this video. This is the issue with the internet and the vast VAST amounts of information that have been generated and are made available on this platform. At least ten years ago, when I needed resources I knew that my local library was the limit. And I’m creative - I can work with what I have. It’s when the sky’s the limit that I start to panic. I vaguely remember that this video was about the earth, it involved degrees of ten, and had molecules and galaxies. So how do I search and find this?? I typed in those words and a few synonyms and was near giving up after not finding it. What the hell, internet!! Gimmie my video!!!

Eventually, it popped up, but for the moments that it took me to locate it I was perplexed, frustrated, and annoyed. Having so much information at your fingertips is not always a good thing. After all, isn’t that the premise behind lamenting on “The Good ‘Ol Days”?

That plus I’m a brat.

The "List"

I am loving home!

I am also realizing, as much as I love home - be it Chicago or the U.S. in general, I am really, truly going to sorely miss London when I leave. I’m going to miss the crazy flavored crisps/chips, the fact that sweetcorn is added to everything, and the absolutely insane abundance of all things Indian. I’ve really come to love London and all its quirky bits and I must say, between ditching freshman-status and really getting to know some of the families in the London Ismaili community, this place is really starting to feel like an additional home.

Alas, transition is inevitable - London will soon enough be my past. In subconscious preparation for such dreadful times I have begun to notice several things exclusive to North America that I hope will take the edge off of the transition ahead. Here is the list (so far):

1. Cap’n Crunch Peanut Butter cereal.

2. Cinammon Toast Crunch Cereal.

3. Kashi GoLean Cereal.

4. Any kind of cereal, really. I love breakfast. Maple syrup also helps.

5. A comprehensive place where I can buy everything I need for the rest of my life (Wal-mart).

6. Number 5 but with more options and better quality (the Mall).

7. Lots and lots of movies and t.v.

8. Libraries where you can actually check out books that are not directly related to your field of study and/or anything fiction.

9. Taco Bell.

10. Mexican food in general…

11. Sunshine.

12. Physical space…walk-in closets…a shower where all of my limbs fit at the same time…

13. The Daily Show.

14. MTV, TLC, and the Disney Channel (shut up).

15. 6am-3am store opening hours.

16. 24-hour joints.

17. Musicians and the music scene.

18. Flaming hot cheetoes!!

19. Prepositions (I’m going TO school).

20. Less U’s (color).

21. Generally, words without excess lettes (Lester instead of Leicester).

22. Let’s hear it for New York…and Chicago…

This list could go on forever. There’s something about American pride - it just swells in my chest…

Operation Matter Over Mind?...!

If there is one thing I have come to realize about myself over the years it is that I am an unbelievably strong individual. Did you know that my legs can bench over 70 pounds?

Just kidding.

While I haven’t faced any major life-altering or tragic events (thank God), I have felt the struggle of my heart, mind, body, and soul in a number of ways over the years. Each time, I bear the burden: I let the feelings ruminate for a bit, my body takes it out on me in its usual ways (I stare at walls and sleep like crazy), and then I get over it - usually within a very reasonable amount of time. And each time, when my smile regains its usual luster, I find myself so thankful that I have strength to draw on. KB and I have had plenty of conversations around the idea that everyone faces trials in their life - some are small and some are huge - but we all deal with them differently. Some people never get over the smallest things and other people would never let on what they’ve been through.

We decided that it’s mostly a matter of attitude and perspective. If you are lucky enough to have been given a little perspective, either by the voice inside your head or a tough-love friend on the outside, you’re gonna be justttttt fine. And, if you have the right attitude and realize there are better ways to spend your time than moping about, you’ll be back on that horse in no time.

Unfortunately, I’m learning it isn’t always so clear cut. Sometimes it isn’t about moping in sadness - it’s about losing yourself in imaginations. When I don’t get over something I’m not crying about not having it, I’m too busy going on with my life as if I got it anyway…life in my head that is.

Do you know that it took me almost twice as long to get through my readings this weekend because I was too busy drifting off into Zahra-Zahra land? Right. No more of that.

So I have a new challenge for myself (if you want to join in, please knock yourself out…I could use the company) - I’m going to actually, physically focus on living outside of my head. For the next…week?…(is that too ambitious?)…I’m going to strictly forbid wall-staring, window-gazing, daydreaming of any kind. Every time an unsanctioned thought enters my head, I’m going to “catch it, bin it, kill it” (Swine Flu ads in London…).

Seriously though - I am going to see if I really can exercise some self-control and focus on what’s real and important now. Is this a good idea? Part of me is arguing for the positive-thinking/if you dream it’s possible outlook. Why settle for what I can’t have when I can start making moves to get what I want?

But the other part of me is tired of living in a cloud and only prolonging an inevitable realization that even I can’t always get what I want. Is it really better to live in reality? I guess I’m about to find out…

25 y.o. Suffers from Age Regression; Suspected Cause: Boredom

I’m sitting next to AM, my 28-year old classmate, and I am scratching and smacking him as we sit in our Wednesday class trying not to

OW

He just pinched my leg! And now he’s telling me about how his jeans are too tight and I’m trying REALLY hard not to laugh or scream.

We’re trying not to die of boredom. It’s sort of working.

Despite the fact that we’re both well past the age of 6, neither of us cares to adhere to the rules of adult decorum. My tolerance levels are just not high enough to handle a hot, stuffy classroom full of some monotone droning coming from somewhere near the front of the room.

I think it’s funny and ironic that as a future teacher, I am quite possibly one of the worst students ever. Seriously. I would hate to have myself in class. How annoying!! :)

I also find it a tiny bit tickling that AM is now lecturing me about how “you don’t listen, you don’t pay attention, you don’t…” All this while he flits screens between Gmail and “Chess Titans.” Right.

But my favorite part of class? One of the T.A.s sitting in the back of the class is trying to figure out when to schedule his next manicure and the other two are straight passed out in their seats…is that a dribble of drool I see? LOL.

I can only hope that my terrible bouts of acting out will help me be more empathetic to my future students.

Or maybe it will just remind me to be INTERESTING so that they don’t resort to such desperate measures in order to stave off death by boredom…

Painting a Picture

Quite a few months ago I saw a woman on the tube. She wasn’t young.

She looked a little mousy - super thin, hunched over, and a little worse for the wear. What stuck out about her, and the reason I remember her and why she got me thinking in the first place, is that she had long, bright pink hair and some super chunky boots.

It was totally uncharacteristic according to the impression I had made of her based on the rest of her appearance. How does that work? Logistically speaking, she would have had to make her way to the hairdressers - or maybe to the local beauty shop - sat in a chair, and dyed her hair pink.

I mean, it’s a process. It doesn’t just happen. Which means that she must have put thought into it. Her long, bright pink hair was a conscious choice which leads me to think this choice was probably one part of a longer thought process about how this woman wanted to present herself.

This is so baffling to me.

After I saw this woman, I started paying more attention to other people as well. Those men with the dozen piercings and killer mowhawks, the women with the striped black-and-hot-pink socks matched with clown/dominatrix boots and yellow mini-skirts - all of it. All of these people got up in the morning and put time and effort into their appearance, no matter how much they wanted to give off the impression that they’re too cool to be into fashion. Even grunge was thoughtful choice. You can consciously choose to not shower as much as you choose TO shower.

It might sound kind of obvious to you, but it was a bit of a revelation to me…Apparently, I am not the only one that stares into her closet in the morning.

All of us who dress ourselves, whether it’s in Gothic/Camden chic, high fashion, or hoodies and jeans, make a choice about what we put on our bodies and thus, what image we present to others.

This has been swirling around in my head for months.

Pair this line of thinking with my current one: what motivates our clothing choices when it comes to attracting the opposite sex?

This thought flashed across my brain sometime back when a bunch of friends went out to the clubs. I was with a girl who is super cool, intelligent, pretty, and has a fantastic - I’m talking killer - body. That night she chose to wear a dress that most respectable people - certainly anyone I associate with - would not be caught dead in, and perhaps wouldn’t particularly want to be near the person actually in it. She’s not a slut, but she sure as hell looked like one. Towards the end of the night, a guy walked past her and casually asked if he could take her home.

Ew.

Seriously, ew. Why would you put yourself in clothes that scream bimbo with no brain? That guy would not in a million years approach her if he actually knew her - either because she’s too cool, or because the rest of her personality doesn’t reflect the interests or tendencies of the rest of the girls that dress like that. All my life I have carried around a body that would NEVER get that kind of reaction from anyone. And I will admit, there have been times when I wish I did. But after that night my thinking totally changed: I wouldn’t feel hot - I would honestly feel absolutely insulted. There are way too many reasons you SHOULD be taking me home and none of them can be discovered while walking past me as you check out the T&A on display.

There is A LOT of power in the way we dress - do we even realize it? I can elicit interactions with a certain type of person based on the fabric on my body. Which makes me think - should I start dressing based on the type of attention I want and who I want it from? Isn’t that partly what we do anyway? Or are you supposed to “dress for yourself!” (Cue cheesy grin and a thumbs up for your self-esteem. Ew.)

Can we ever actually dress for ourselves? Should we? If I dressed for myself, would I always be in sweats, or would I still be rockin’ the look I normally walk around in? I don’t even know anymore…

High-achiever lit will tell you to dress for the job you want, not the one you have. Does that apply to people? Should I dress like someone who is materialistic if I want to bag a sugardaddy? If I wear a lot of jewelry does that automatically make the average bloke think I am materialistic and thus inhibit him from even trying?

Naive ones say that all of this extra stuff has nothing to do with anything - “just be yourself.” But I’m beginning to think that the smart kids are the ones who realize that there are certain tools you can really wield to your advantage - if you know it will get you what you want faster, why not use them? Better they work for you than against…

25 y.o. Ailing After Roller Coaster Joyrides; Trauma Leads to Age Cap and Warning Signs

I remember lying on my bed one evening talking to NM on the phone when he mentioned something curious.

He said he was always skeptical of a girl who was really bubbly and happy all the time, or at least one who appeared that way. Being someone who is often characterized by those two adjectives more than any others, I wondered why he would say such a thing. Did he believe we were actually sadistic murderers deep down inside?

Not quite. But, he did say that if a girl could get that happy and excited about certain things in life, when it was time to come back down there was a good chance she would probably get that low, too. As in, extremes go both ways.

At the time I thought he was being a bit cynical (sorry NM) but two years down the road, a soap opera of a summer and some hardcore reflection later, I realized there’s a lot of truth in that line of thinking.

Lately I’ve noticed that my highs are tempered too often by small moments of not-so-highness that bring me way, way too unjustifiably down. I’m not sure why…

Is it better to experience medium-sized happiness on a regular basis or to ride the peaks and troughs that inevitably accompany the drama-filled life of a passionate person? And do we get to choose which one we live by?

Not sure about the first one, but I used to think the answer to this last question was a resounding “YES” - I am a firm believer that attitude is 100% up to the individual. You control how you react to outside stimuli/circumstances/situations and you decide how you live your life.  However, lately I’m not feeling like I have the power in choosing between peaks/troughs/drama and middle-of-the-road happiness.

Or maybe I’m not choosing because I don’t really know which one I prefer. I’m too passionate a person to accept the complacent rationality behind middle happiness. On the other hand, deliriously happy is a great place to be in but right now I’m not so sure it’s worth the sudden and really steep lows that follow. I’m just not sure how to get out of this cycle…or if I really want to..

Perhaps because this is another indication that I’m settling a little too perfectly into my post-Fanatic phase - the point in life (25 years of age) when you realize that you can’t change the world and that it really is gray and that there is no room for optimism and Santa Claus and the emotional hell of a dramatic life.

I’ve been fighting it off so far by refusing to give in to the pessimistic attitudes around me but my youthful bubbly spirit is in major need of reinforcements. Perhaps I just need to come to terms with the fact that roller-coaster-like peaks and troughs are not suitable for those over the age of 25?

They should post a warning sign up next time. Hmph.

Who Loves Change?

Me! MEE!

I especially like this new theme because it’s interactive - you can use the little box on the top right to change the colors. How cool!! I’m totally tactile - I love to touch, pick up, change, manipulate, tweak, pinch, zip/unzip, and twirl anything I can get my hands on (I am sure that those of you who have suffered from my hands-on tendencies are nodding your heads right now).

Well, welcome to my world and enjoy a space where you can play with the little scroll box on the top right :)

Not too happy about the shaft that comments get - you can barely tell that they are there! It took me a minute to realize that its the nasty white line in between posts with the text stuffed in the corner.

Oh well. Few things are “perfect.” You just learn to appreciate the loveliness and go with the flow :)