Again, Nothing
Should I hire somebody to give me ideas for better post titles?
Nah. This thing's a one-man job.
I mean, a one-lady job.
Y'all, by definition, feminism is the idea that women are equal to men. And that's stupid, y'all. It isn't true. The truth is, women are better than men.
I don't mean to put men down, I mean, men are great too. But what did they do to make the internet talk trash about them?
Anyway, that's another story for another post. Allow me to continue talking about this wacky day that is finally over.
After I published the prequel to this post, respectively titled, "Nothing," I heaved on my backpack and sauntered out of the library. I made it to building A and took the elevator down to level 2. It was then that I wondered why there isn't a ground floor. And if 2 is the ground floor, why is it called 2 and not 1? It made me imagine that the NLC faculty and staff probably punch in a secret elevator code to get to the hidden ground floor. But what do they do down there? Do they stash food? Give mock classes? Replay the day's camera footage and laugh at all their students?
I may never know.
The elevator doors opened. I walked down the ramp and into Student Life, a.k.a. the breakroom for students. I enclosed myself in the Serenity Room, where everyone's supposed to pray. I snatched a prayer rug off the shelf and lay it down, and before praying I checked the time on my phone. 1:31 PM.
I started praying, and when I was finished the time read 1:33. It quickly switched to 1:34 as I hurried out of that building, went back up in the elevator, and hurried to building G again. I was late for class, but it was okay because no one had started work yet.
And I'm not about to describe what happened in class because it was really boring. But at least we actually used the newsprint paper!
Remember that homework I was hastening to do in my earlier class? That's for midterm! And thank God too because I did it incorrectly. I know that because I saw another student's handout.
And that's the end of the wacky day. Alrighty, reminder for next time:
- bring the dang ID
- bring the dang wallet
- bring ya dang sketchbook
- do ya dang homework even if it's for midterm
- get ya self a dang lock so you don't need to haul that dang portfolio everywhere
Now, let me tell you what happened yesterday, which is the story of obtaining my Mixed Media pad.
I went to Office Depot with my dad to grab all my art supplies. That's not an important part of the story. I mean, they were playing a JB song in there. I think it was Baby. Anyway, we went to Michael's after that. Baby was still playing, which had me shook because Michael's is a different store and not even close to Office Max, walking wise. I got my Mixed Media pad and a mat board. We paid at the cash register, got 20% off our purchase. We walked towards the exit. And boy, was it raining. It was pouring. Not even an old man could snore in all the commotion.
Normally we'd just wing it and plunder through the rain. But I was holding a mat board and a drawing pad. Two items that were probably created from trees and that could potentially suffer from water damage. What were we going to do?
My dad went under the rain and grabbed a cloth grocery bag from the trunk and attempted to cover my giant mat board and drawing pad with it. I was like, "Nah, this won't do the job, we could go inside and ask them for a plastic bag."
So I went in and casually called up an employee. "Hey, could I have a plastic bag for these? It's raining outside."
He opened one up for me and I slid my things inside. The dang mat board cut through the plastic, defeating the purpose of the plastic, but at least the plastic still held the drawing pad. That mat board is a fudgin' rebel, y'all. Anyway, I went back outside and hastened to put the plastic bag in the car, and then we rode back home. I was cold and wet. And lowkey triggered because rain is my enemy.
But anyway, that is the story of how I obtained my Mixed Media pad.
I may possibly go into the story of Wednesday and Thursday, but I don't exactly remember what happened. Those two days were very uneventful. I mean, school-wise. Actually, let's just go into it. But I'm skipping the school parts.
WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 23
Uh, so I came back from school at about 4 something. And I was sitting on my bed, in a T-shirt and my camo pants, watching AGT videos on YouTube. Then my mom came in and said that if I wanted to go watch Z's karate belt test, then I should get ready. So I did, and we went there, and after warm-up, the test started. It was pretty amusing, partly because of commentary from Sunshine's dad (did I mention Sunshine's family teaches karate?) and partly because kids are just naturally hilarious.
My sister came during the middle of it. After the belt test, my mom went home and my sister and I stayed. I talked to Sunshine and distracted him from doing his homework, because that's what good friends do. Amirighttttt
THURSDAY, AUGUST 24
It was the birthday of one of my characters! In Digital Imaging class we finished photoshopping our magic cicadas onto our magic bags. And then I went home early and had a strawberry banana smoothie. Later that day, I went to women's fitness class, taught by Sunshine's sister. In sparring I wore Sunshine's sparring feet and I was mauled by Y, Sunshine's sister. She's fierce smh. When class let out we walked out of the ladies' workout room and Sunshine's dad was like, "Hey! You're back! Long time no see!" So my mom started talking to him, and Peanut, Sunshine's big brother, was talking to a student, and Sunshine was nowhere to be found, so I talked with my little friend SZ. And then we went home and that was that.
Sometimes, having dinner with family sucks. I can't wait to have my bus pass again. Oh, I just wish I was a perfect child, because anything I give to my family never feels like enough. My parents forever treat me like I'm not good enough. Like I need to be more. My mom tells me every now and then what's up with your book? Look at this person she already published her book. Look at this person she did this. You should be doing this. You should be doing that.
Okay, first of all, comparing your child to anyone is the worst. Second of all, comparing them to someone they know is going to make them feel worthless, make them feel like you like that person more, and make them hate that person. Bad idea if that person is their friend. I'm already lowkey hating some of my friends because I was compared to them. Red flag.
Third of all, I'm not there yet. Yes, I should be doing this and it'd be great if I did that, but I'm not there yet. Let me take my time. Fourth of all, why focus on the negatives in what your child does? Your child isn't perfect. Your child is your child. And you're not perfect. If you think you're raising your child to be like you, well, yes, you are, with that perfection mindset. It's human nature to crave perfection, but nobody can create perfection except Allah.
It's my dream to get married and have a lot of children, six minimum, but I'm afraid. Afraid I'll never find the right guy. Afraid to get married because I've seen the bad side of it. Afraid to have children because by instinct I'll treat them the way I was treated. I don't tell people this when I tell them why I think marriage is gross. I instead tell them I am a strong independent woman who doesn't need a man.
When I visited the therapist a couple of months back, he asked us what we thought would solve the problems in our family. I told him the problems were due to lack of communication. My mom and sister told him more things, and the conversation went on, and then the therapist looked at me and said, "So Nura you were spot on, you guys do need more communication."
That made me proud. Spot on. I like that phrase.
Maybe I'm just victimizing myself. My sister says I do that. She's usually always right.
The other day, I was thinking about a conversation I overheard between my mom and her friend. (I wasn't really overhearing the conversation, I was literally in the conversation. I just wasn't talking.) The friend asked my mom if S was gonna get married anytime soon. And my mom said, yes, when she finds someone. And when I heard that I was genuinely afraid. My sister never told me that. I'm not ready for her to leave me like that yet. I mean, I hate the way she treats me sometimes and I'm happy when I live alone in my room and she's out, but I don't want her to marry anybody. I have to find her a guy, know him, make sure I like him, and make him know that he will have to answer to me. I mean, you may find that funny, but behind the screen right now I'm actually tearing up. What can I say? My sister is my only sister. And it isn't like I have anyone else above me to take care of me. I'm the second-born. I'm actually going to be in charge of those two boys once my sister leaves, and I'm just not ready for that.
I asked my sister about it on Friday. I was actually already crying because of some family stuff that happened earlier, but talking to my sister about this made me cry again. My voice was on the verge of breaking. I hope my sister didn't notice.
Anyway, yeah, I wanted to get that out. I feel better now. Sorry about the drama. It's just my actual life. I'm not perfect, I'm not always optimistic or happy. There is a huge story behind my smile.
It's nothing.
Again, nothing.
Until next time! :)
Nah. This thing's a one-man job.
I mean, a one-lady job.
Y'all, by definition, feminism is the idea that women are equal to men. And that's stupid, y'all. It isn't true. The truth is, women are better than men.
I don't mean to put men down, I mean, men are great too. But what did they do to make the internet talk trash about them?
Anyway, that's another story for another post. Allow me to continue talking about this wacky day that is finally over.
After I published the prequel to this post, respectively titled, "Nothing," I heaved on my backpack and sauntered out of the library. I made it to building A and took the elevator down to level 2. It was then that I wondered why there isn't a ground floor. And if 2 is the ground floor, why is it called 2 and not 1? It made me imagine that the NLC faculty and staff probably punch in a secret elevator code to get to the hidden ground floor. But what do they do down there? Do they stash food? Give mock classes? Replay the day's camera footage and laugh at all their students?
I may never know.
The elevator doors opened. I walked down the ramp and into Student Life, a.k.a. the breakroom for students. I enclosed myself in the Serenity Room, where everyone's supposed to pray. I snatched a prayer rug off the shelf and lay it down, and before praying I checked the time on my phone. 1:31 PM.
I started praying, and when I was finished the time read 1:33. It quickly switched to 1:34 as I hurried out of that building, went back up in the elevator, and hurried to building G again. I was late for class, but it was okay because no one had started work yet.
And I'm not about to describe what happened in class because it was really boring. But at least we actually used the newsprint paper!
Remember that homework I was hastening to do in my earlier class? That's for midterm! And thank God too because I did it incorrectly. I know that because I saw another student's handout.
And that's the end of the wacky day. Alrighty, reminder for next time:
- bring the dang ID
- bring the dang wallet
- bring ya dang sketchbook
- do ya dang homework even if it's for midterm
- get ya self a dang lock so you don't need to haul that dang portfolio everywhere
Now, let me tell you what happened yesterday, which is the story of obtaining my Mixed Media pad.
I went to Office Depot with my dad to grab all my art supplies. That's not an important part of the story. I mean, they were playing a JB song in there. I think it was Baby. Anyway, we went to Michael's after that. Baby was still playing, which had me shook because Michael's is a different store and not even close to Office Max, walking wise. I got my Mixed Media pad and a mat board. We paid at the cash register, got 20% off our purchase. We walked towards the exit. And boy, was it raining. It was pouring. Not even an old man could snore in all the commotion.
Normally we'd just wing it and plunder through the rain. But I was holding a mat board and a drawing pad. Two items that were probably created from trees and that could potentially suffer from water damage. What were we going to do?
My dad went under the rain and grabbed a cloth grocery bag from the trunk and attempted to cover my giant mat board and drawing pad with it. I was like, "Nah, this won't do the job, we could go inside and ask them for a plastic bag."
So I went in and casually called up an employee. "Hey, could I have a plastic bag for these? It's raining outside."
He opened one up for me and I slid my things inside. The dang mat board cut through the plastic, defeating the purpose of the plastic, but at least the plastic still held the drawing pad. That mat board is a fudgin' rebel, y'all. Anyway, I went back outside and hastened to put the plastic bag in the car, and then we rode back home. I was cold and wet. And lowkey triggered because rain is my enemy.
But anyway, that is the story of how I obtained my Mixed Media pad.
I may possibly go into the story of Wednesday and Thursday, but I don't exactly remember what happened. Those two days were very uneventful. I mean, school-wise. Actually, let's just go into it. But I'm skipping the school parts.
WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 23
Uh, so I came back from school at about 4 something. And I was sitting on my bed, in a T-shirt and my camo pants, watching AGT videos on YouTube. Then my mom came in and said that if I wanted to go watch Z's karate belt test, then I should get ready. So I did, and we went there, and after warm-up, the test started. It was pretty amusing, partly because of commentary from Sunshine's dad (did I mention Sunshine's family teaches karate?) and partly because kids are just naturally hilarious.
My sister came during the middle of it. After the belt test, my mom went home and my sister and I stayed. I talked to Sunshine and distracted him from doing his homework, because that's what good friends do. Amirighttttt
THURSDAY, AUGUST 24
It was the birthday of one of my characters! In Digital Imaging class we finished photoshopping our magic cicadas onto our magic bags. And then I went home early and had a strawberry banana smoothie. Later that day, I went to women's fitness class, taught by Sunshine's sister. In sparring I wore Sunshine's sparring feet and I was mauled by Y, Sunshine's sister. She's fierce smh. When class let out we walked out of the ladies' workout room and Sunshine's dad was like, "Hey! You're back! Long time no see!" So my mom started talking to him, and Peanut, Sunshine's big brother, was talking to a student, and Sunshine was nowhere to be found, so I talked with my little friend SZ. And then we went home and that was that.
Sometimes, having dinner with family sucks. I can't wait to have my bus pass again. Oh, I just wish I was a perfect child, because anything I give to my family never feels like enough. My parents forever treat me like I'm not good enough. Like I need to be more. My mom tells me every now and then what's up with your book? Look at this person she already published her book. Look at this person she did this. You should be doing this. You should be doing that.
Okay, first of all, comparing your child to anyone is the worst. Second of all, comparing them to someone they know is going to make them feel worthless, make them feel like you like that person more, and make them hate that person. Bad idea if that person is their friend. I'm already lowkey hating some of my friends because I was compared to them. Red flag.
Third of all, I'm not there yet. Yes, I should be doing this and it'd be great if I did that, but I'm not there yet. Let me take my time. Fourth of all, why focus on the negatives in what your child does? Your child isn't perfect. Your child is your child. And you're not perfect. If you think you're raising your child to be like you, well, yes, you are, with that perfection mindset. It's human nature to crave perfection, but nobody can create perfection except Allah.
It's my dream to get married and have a lot of children, six minimum, but I'm afraid. Afraid I'll never find the right guy. Afraid to get married because I've seen the bad side of it. Afraid to have children because by instinct I'll treat them the way I was treated. I don't tell people this when I tell them why I think marriage is gross. I instead tell them I am a strong independent woman who doesn't need a man.
When I visited the therapist a couple of months back, he asked us what we thought would solve the problems in our family. I told him the problems were due to lack of communication. My mom and sister told him more things, and the conversation went on, and then the therapist looked at me and said, "So Nura you were spot on, you guys do need more communication."
That made me proud. Spot on. I like that phrase.
Maybe I'm just victimizing myself. My sister says I do that. She's usually always right.
The other day, I was thinking about a conversation I overheard between my mom and her friend. (I wasn't really overhearing the conversation, I was literally in the conversation. I just wasn't talking.) The friend asked my mom if S was gonna get married anytime soon. And my mom said, yes, when she finds someone. And when I heard that I was genuinely afraid. My sister never told me that. I'm not ready for her to leave me like that yet. I mean, I hate the way she treats me sometimes and I'm happy when I live alone in my room and she's out, but I don't want her to marry anybody. I have to find her a guy, know him, make sure I like him, and make him know that he will have to answer to me. I mean, you may find that funny, but behind the screen right now I'm actually tearing up. What can I say? My sister is my only sister. And it isn't like I have anyone else above me to take care of me. I'm the second-born. I'm actually going to be in charge of those two boys once my sister leaves, and I'm just not ready for that.
I asked my sister about it on Friday. I was actually already crying because of some family stuff that happened earlier, but talking to my sister about this made me cry again. My voice was on the verge of breaking. I hope my sister didn't notice.
Anyway, yeah, I wanted to get that out. I feel better now. Sorry about the drama. It's just my actual life. I'm not perfect, I'm not always optimistic or happy. There is a huge story behind my smile.
It's nothing.
Again, nothing.
Until next time! :)
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