I haven't written in a while, so today I promised myself a new blog post but couldn't think of anything spectacular enough, so here's part one of five of my bucket list.
My feet ache from my miles of trekking through the UH campus. My mouth is frozen from the multiple licks of coffee ice cream I've had, and yet I can’t stop myself from wanting one more lick. I seriously can’t feel my tongue. And to top it all off, my skirt fell into the toilet. That’s MIST for ya.
So now, I’m sitting on a isolated coach on the UH campus contently sipping coconut water and praying that nobody finds me and send me to another (usually) useless workshop where I’ll scan the room for Zayn Malik doppelgängers or Mexican food instead of ponder the purpose of my existence.
And while my ice cream cone drips onto my keyboard, I sit back, stunned, and remember that tomorrow is my birthday.
I’ve always been kind of obsessed with birthdays. A whole day dedicated to celebrating your existence, ambition and qualities is an especially exciting feat for an egotistical maniac like meh-self. And c’mon, who doesn’t love being surrounded by people singing to you while they light an item of consumption, only for you to blow it out shortly afterward with a devious grin?
Most people think birthdays are a time for presents and joy and cookies and laughter, but I like to add dimension to things (like my lower abdomen)... a birthday is a time to thank God for your existence and appreciate your family, friends, and iPhones. A time for you to ackowledge yourself and how flipping cool you are. Because you are, so celebrate that shr*mp.
All in all, sixteen has been such an exciting and wonderful year. I have learned so much about myself, my family, friends, and random strangers, and have grown to realize how stupendously dynamic life is.
Below are some of these life changing lessons.
1. You need to be ok with yourself before pursuing others.
2. Gossiping is so bad and never ok.
3. Don’t text while people are talking to you.
4. You can never go wrong with an indian man impression.
5. Sometimes it is okay to let go and realize that some things are beyond your control.
6. Seriously think before you declare your opinion out loud.
7. You might not look like a “prepubescent indian boy” if you cut your hair short.
8. Most people are peasants.
9. Don’t ever ignore the weird girl in a conversation.
10. Always take the Starbucks picture. Who cares if anyone sees? If ya didn’t snap it, it didn’t happen honey.
11. At the end of the day, make the decision that pleases you and will benefit you in the long run.
12. Sometimes you really need to be alone for a while. Learn to be ok by yourself.
13. It’s okay if you put the Snapchat bar on your zits.
14. Nobody cares about your boy drama, friend drama, sister drama, cheeto drama or pet dog drama. Like I’m sorry, but I REALLY JUST DON’T CARE IF HE FURROWED HIS BROWS AT YOU HE LOOKS LIKE AND ACTS LIKE A JITTERY COCKROACH FOR GODS SAKE.
15. If you know someone worked hard on something, don’t criticize them when its all over. They can’t fix the problem so what’s the point of making them feel bad about it?
16. Always keep cash on you.
17. If a drunk person ever approaches you, don’t insist on singing Uptown Funk with them.
18. If you feel like you have to pee, just pee. Don’t wait.
19. Everything is okay in improv.
20. You don’t always have to be honest. Sometimes you can shut your face.
21. Do not regret rolling your eyes at that one rowdy brown guy who finds it extremely crucial to add you on Snapchat.
So yeah, Happy Birthday to me. I’m alive and well and mint chocolate chip ice cream exists. I’m older and wiser and will never stop making pregnant whale sounds in class and blaming them on my peers.
Announcements: HEY GUISES. SO IM GOING TO DO A REALLY SUPER AMAZINGLY COLLAB WITH SOMEONE REALLY COOL SOON, SO STAY TUNED. SHH IT’S A SECRET OMG YOU WILL CRY!!!!
Also, my peachy sister FINALLY started a cool blog that is, heh heh, Duriba Khan approved, so check her out at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Blogging, as I have learned over my one year of experience, has a lot of dos and don’ts. If you want to be a blogger, that’s flapping kool dood.
I'm not even qualified to give advice, but just my eleventeen cents here.
Below are some tips on how you can suck as much as I do.
1. As cliche as it sounds, people DO judge you.
When I started blogging last year, holy waffles was I flustered. My fear of failure fused with my want, but inability to take criticism along with my overall apprehensive attitude made me completely susceptible to emotional issues.
I was really afraid of looking like a “loser”, being openly confronted about a spelling error (did i menshun im 12 so des was reile herdh). I was afraid people were going to ridicule me: aunties would decline my rishta because I called Zayn Malik a “spicy tikka kabob”, my parents would be upset because every minute I spent writing a new post, I wasn’t developing the cure to cancer, etc.
But when you REALLY want to do something, those significant problems become a speck of dust you can just sh-sh-shake off, oh, oh, oh. My parents were quite pleased to see I was doing something for myself, a couple of aunties have actually complimented my writing (YOU ROCK, SALAMA AUNTY!).
All in all, you will never know how bad/good you will be at something unless you wholeheartedly try.
2. It’s almost creepy.
In all honestly, it’s kind of irritating because everybody you meet knows too much about you. Ok guys, people aren’t obsessed with me or anything (openly), but there have been times where people have asked me if certain posts were about them, been offended by my mentally enhanced (weave flip) commentary, or known things about me that maybe, I just didn’t want to tell them yet.
It felt like people already knew me and based their opinion of me off of one blog post where I talked about boogers ok.
3. Be prepared for criticism.
Haters truly are going to hate. And let them. When you enter the blogging realm, you have to remember this through every post you submit. We are all different people, and we all enjoy/discern different things. So when you get an opinion, get a BUNCH of them so at least one person will be nice enough to say it was “okay-ish.”
4. Being complimented REALLY hits home.
When people compliment your work, it is the most savory feelings EVAR.
5. You are a voice on the interweb.
Choose your words wisely, and know the amount of power your wifi connection and keyboard can give you.
6. You are permanent.
If you haven’t noticed, I personally make a point to “behave myself” on the internet (iz hard, mummeh). I try to voice my political/social opinions in the fairest way possible, don’t use curse words, etc...because whether your blog has 10 hits or 100,000, the internet is permanent. People do remember the things you write, and it does affect your reputation, college acceptance. Be very wary and circumspect.
7. Don’t shove it in people’ faces.
I’m not famous by ANY means. I don’t wear fur coats, get followed by the paparazzi, or cruise about in a Lamborghini. I wear slouchy jeans and toe rings, take too many selfies, and grace the passenger seat of my mother’s Honda Odyssey (and my sister’s glamorous, sparkling Civic when I’m feeling a little bit more mighty).
Clearly, I’m not anything too big just yet. Do I want to be? *cue patriotic music and wavering flag besides a cow* That’s the American dream, Bessie. Don’t we all? And so we do. And if we do, I can’t stress how important it is for us to not over self promote.
Don’t keep shoving your work into people’s faces. It’s okay to casually mention something when you’re excited about it, do a quickie Instagram post here and there, but don’t consider yourself better than anyone because you got more than five pageviews. Don’t force your friends to read your blog, or show off. If people are genuinely interested in your work, they’ll read it themselves.
8. Know your goal.
You want to a start a blog...but why? Have a goal that you can summarize into a tweet (EMOJIS INCLUDED) and look back on it when you’re in a rut. Let that goal drive you, and when the 2 comments under a blog post get to your head, take it back, sugar muffin.
9. It is not your whole life!
Blogs are supposed to be a fun and creative outlet for you to showcase your writings and voice your opinion. Don’t become obsessed with gaining pageviews, getting compliments, etc. Unless you’re getting paid for it, keep your blog a side thing. Don’t obsessively write, or freak out when you see a spelling error or something.
And well, that’s pretty much it! I hope I could help you all in someway. You can return the favor by buying yourself ten cookie today.
I missed the bus. And when I didn’t miss the bus, a sweaty guy who smelled like stale Cheetos sat next to me. Except I don’t ride the bus. It was my mom’s minivan, and the sweaty guy was my brother after track practice.
I attempted to give myself side bangs on New Year’s, then sneezed in the instance I decided to cut. Super spunky, I’d say.
Zayn Malik left One Direction.
I went to a dholki and Sheila Ki Jawani came on in the presence of that one Aunty with the cheetah print phone case, sickly red lipstick, and 5 kids.
I studied really hard for a Physics exam and taught my Iron Man action figure and fake plant named Shanti all there is to know about Free body diagrams, but flopped once again.
I made a friend who didn’t even want to be my friend.
I was watching a Snapchat and laughed so hard I spilled granola and milk all over my phone, pajamas, and Mother’s fabric couch.
I cried in the shower. And then Pandora belted “Disco Dancer”, so I started dancing and slipped and dropped a bottle of shampoo on my foot.
Call it what you want: kismet, bad luck, or just a sucky life. The journey that is my life is oozing with happenings I’m not exactly fond of. Some of them skookum and others terrible, but at the end of the day I’m well and alive and that’s what matters.
Now, you definitely aren’t Beyonce, so you have problems and probably get unhappy a lot. Below is my list of way you can flip your hair (or hijab) and fix yo’ self, honey.
Find a hobby.
Pick something up that you thoroughly enjoy: something that has the capability to distract you for hours, keep you entertained and engaged, and something that is really just fun for you. Whether it be painting, photography, poetry, or cleaning...you need to find your bliss (as in the words of guru Joseph Campbell).
But you don’t like writing, and that’s cool. Make a list. Keep track of your life, so one day you can flip through your agenda, sketchbook, or doodle pad and participate in a roller coaster of emotion. Relive dull moments through your words, interesting quotes you may have scribbled, or just sketches of random strangers you drew at Starbucks.
You might click your lock screen button or slam your laptop shut now, but there there, tiger buddy. You have to exercise, as much as you hate it. Take a stroll around your neighborhood, ft. puffy pooch and The Black eyed Peas. Do a little yoga, and make sure you stretch, stretch, stretch!
4. Decide on your favorite ___________.
You have to know yourself better than anyone. Wonder, “who am I?” and form personal, honest, opinions about things. Give yourself an identity, and make sure you stay genuine. Write your favorite things anywhere: the back of a Hillary Duff album cover from 2005, a journal, or your Dad’s resume. For example, list your favorite foods, authors, books, and people so you have an almost instant therapy list for the days you step in dog poo and your Starbucks rewards expire.
5. Be wise with your time.
No matter what you’re doing: sleeping, trying to balance a lipstick on your nose, or developing the cure to cancer, the clock is ticking. Don’t give peasants your time, as it is your most valuable heirloom. Don’t spend too much time talking to someone who you can’t benefit from: perhaps a draining and “toxic” friend, a nagging Aunt, or a random guy on Times Square who insists you and your sister are the Kardashian sisters. If you really know me, you have figured out by now that I am really bothered by superficial conversation. Let’s get past the “how are yous?” and “Where did you get your top from?”, and straight into the “the world is ending tomorrow, what will you do for yourself and why?”.
6. Be okay with yourself.
I can’t stress how important it is for you to be comfortable in your own skin. A confession: although I catch myself doing this all the time, I hate when people ramble on and on about their weaknesses and faults. I can pepper you with a few compliments and assure you that your haircut isn’t as bad as Miley’s, but I can’t fix you. I can help you believe in yourself, but not if you don’t want to. I’m like 12 ok. I can’t mend your bones, as much as I love you.
So now, pick up the shampoo bottle off your foot and embrace your acne. Dance like nobody’s watching.Take that fashion risk. Don’t succumb to social norms you don’t like. Pray on time.
The night is still younger than that Aunty at the dholki thinks she is.
“GET UPPPP!” My mother screamed at the top of her lungs, tossing a pillow at my head. I throatily laughed as I dodged it, and she proceeded to tackle me. One thing led to another, and we were now in cahoots on the hotel floor, tickling and whipping pillows at one another’s faces.
As my sister joined our fight, I grabbed a fistful of hair and declared Sparta.
We dressed well and had breakfast at the world’s largest McDonalds, took artistic pictures at the beach, and made it to Disneyland. Through fireworks, palm trees, creepy hobos, and shaved ice, we classified this vacation as number one on the “hard to beat” list. Florida was on fiya.
But today was different. Today, we were going to a boring, super exclusive “AAPNA”, or “Association of Physicians of Pakistani Descent of North America” conference (ikr), complete with unwinding lectures, bald guys with glasses and beards who use the word “superb” too often, and Aunties who smelled too strongly of Dolce and Gabbana.
As everyone settled in to pray, I sat towards the back trying to figure out if the LVs sketched on a satchel before me were real. I didn’t even have a phone at the time, just an iPod that was breathing its last breaths.
And then I saw a chick.
She had thin glasses, beautiful eyebrows, and a friendly smile. I can’t remember how our first conversation started, but it was along the lines of “Hey, who are you?”. Within ten minutes, we were blabbing on about the things we had in common: the same last name, the same career ambition, age, and the same glittering look in our eyes that allowed the start of a beautiful friendship. When it was time to go, we exchanged imessage IDs (what cool fourteen year olds zOMG) and hoped our paths would cross again.
Although years have passed, we still remained in touch. There is some magical glue that holds us in place and strengthens our connection: we can go months without talking and on my darker days, I see a blue bubble pop up besides her name on Snapchat.
Nabiha and I met once, and we still keep up with each other. Although she lives in Tennessee and weirdly hasn’t met Hannah Montana: she’s like my sweet escape. She only knows what I tell her about me, I don’t have to worry about her telling anyone anything, she offers true advice and is seriously the sweetest person I know. Our friendship has no judgements, no repercussions. To her I am simply me, and I hope to god she feels the same way.
Nabiha remembers my birthday, randomly sends me the happy face emoji and is one of the few people who I love everything about. She randomly reads my blog, texts me fob jokes, and gives me the genuine truth.
Although we’ve vowed to meet again someday, It hurts to say that it won’t be anytime soon. I will do all in my power to make it happen, but it isn’t likely. And that doesn’t matter, because whether I’m on the moon or under my covers at 4:00 am, I know that she is only a text message away with a goofy grin on her gorgeous face.