This is it ladies and gentleman.

One week and counting.

Like my friends kept putting it two years ago, “It’s an end of an era”

Most of us will be graduating this semester. A few of us have already graduated, and a couple of us will be in a semester or two.

But the fact is, after this semester most of us will be going our separate ways.

Even till this day, as my undergrad days come to an end, I get the question, “How do you like it at Wayne State?”

And I would respond, “Oh, yeah it’s great. I love going there”

There are many reasons why I love Wayne State, but the most important factor has always been the friends that I found here at Wayne State University.

It started back in freshman year. With my friend from middle school. We were both scared of what to expect from college, and terrified of not knowing anyone else.

Before you know it, we made friends or found old friends. And we introduced everyone to each other. And Freshman year ended with a group of 10 girls.

And it all started at the Undergraduate Library.

I refused to go to the second floor because there were so many people. So everyone would come up to the third floor. A table at the back of the library floor automatically became labeled as our table.

And it wasn’t labeled  by us.

Almost every week we would have a new addition to our group. And we all knew exactly where to find each other, on that table on the third floor. Sometimes our group was so large that we would break of into two tables side by side.

The third floor became the hang out floor. While the basic backbone of our group stayed the same , we lost a couple of the original freshman girls.

Even when one of us moved out to India to do medical school, the girls declared our ‘BC’ made up of 6 or 7 us, would never break.

I laughed at this stupid term they came up with. The BC shape a.k.a Brain Connection (Because of all the times we had the same thought or connection). It was stupid, but they all had a good time with it so I let it go.

They would talk about all of us living together on the same street even after we get old, have kids, and get jobs. And would be friends just like on the show, The desperate housewives.

The realistic me, always made it a point to rain on their parade by telling them that the likelihood of that was nil. They yelled at me. I rolled my eyes.

Five years later.

We’ve moved to the second floor of the undergraduate library. We’ve paved a way for a lot of incoming freshman Muslim girls. A support system, if you will, for them to make friends with other girls. For me it was a dream accomplished.

I see the younger generations now laughing and joking with us, and I smile. It makes me happy to think that all these girls now have a means to meet new people and make friends with. That was the hope I had, to bring all these girls together, so they have each other.

We’re no longer one set group. We’ve become diluted. The importance that we had in our younger undergraduate days, is gone.

But that’s fine. It’s not our time anymore. It’s their time, the freshmen, sophomores and juniors. The freshmen are now the ones throwing mini birthday parties in the library, how we once used to. They are ones studying in groups for exams, how we used to. They are now the ones imagining their futures together, like how my friends used to. They are now the ones on laughing highs, with immature babbles, just like how we once used to.

The main group of friends has undergone some changes. We’ve drifted, some barely see each other, and the dynamics within the group have changed. Over the years, friends have come and gone. With less of the latter, and more of the former.

It was all a maturing process.

And we’ve had some additions or partial additions. They haven’t been around long enough, but they certainly have become close enough.
It’s kinda weird actually. Important friends have remained important, while other friends have also become important.

Monday was the last day of classes. Our last day with each other(majority of us) as undergraduate students. I went to the undergraduate library imagining no one to be there.

Lo and behold, most of our current Wayne State group came together in the library.

It was weird.

It all had started at the Undergraduate Library, and it was all ending at the Undergraduate library.

I kept waiting for something. Some kind of sign or pop, that commemorated this end. Nothing happened. Not even a mass group cry, though I kept on trying to make it happen by getting them sentimental.

One friend did start crying much later on while I was studying. Pooh had always pushed for us living together in ‘White Houses’  after everything. Just like in the song. And as usual I told her that it wasn’t something that could happen. I even told her to get over it. What’ s the big deal? You make friends, you lose friends. You’ll cry once or twice. Life is going to work the way it is.

Even I knew I was being brutal. But I couldn’t help how I was feeling. Maybe that’s the way I build my defenses against getting too emotional.

Don’t get me wrong, I am going to deeply miss all our memories at Wayne State. From our walks to the restaurants, to our birthday parties, our random trips to Dearborn for food, or the mall, our times at the movies, laughing at each other, discovering new buildings at Wayne, picking on one another, freaking out for exams together.

Yet, there’s nothing much we can do about that. We all have to move on to next part of our lives. Whoever I can remain good friends with even years from now, it’ll be great. Whoever I don’t, I guess however unhappy you may be for some time, we just weren’t meant to be. Yes, I know, brutal again. But in my opinion if you’re an important friend then it’s not going to be so easy to escape from each other.

Anyways I realized I was making things worse for Pooh when she started crying harder. So I tried cheering her up by making bets to see how long it would take to hit our friends, or how they would react when it hit them. I told her I  had known that she would be the first one it would hit. She told me to shut up.

Then I told her we should all just start singing the Vitamin C song during the graduation commencement. I think she really liked that idea.

I just hope Wayne State doesn’t take away our diplomas.

Man I’ve been really bad these past two weeks. I feel like I haven’t blogged in ages. I keep starting on posts but never finishing them.
I still have to finish the post on the Mad Anthony Concert. So I promise I’ll have that one up for you guys in a day or two. I PROMISE.
Seee now I have to keep my promise, or die trying…
dun dun dunnnnn

So this past week has been a really crazy week for me. I had two exams and a paper.
Ok yeah, so it doesn’t seem so bad, but the week was still a blur. And I didn’t get to rest until bed time, Friday night.

Er…not including the part where I went to the mall on Monday.
But it’s not my fault. EVERYONE has been all like, “OH eM Gee! H&M has cardigans on sale for 10 bucks in all these different colors!”

Of course I get all excited and get all Oh Em Gee, and decided to head out to H&M the first chance I get, to buy the cardigans on Monday, (because you know I’m completely prepared for my exams, and already finished my paper…..Hahahahaha). ONLY they DIDN’T have ANY.

So I’m standing in the store, refusing to leave.

I did not go ALLL that way just to come back empty handed (FYI ALLL that way is approximately 17.3 minutes).

So there was this ONE cardigan, that wouldn’t fit me right, and it looked weird, and I had to keep tugging at it, but  it was 10 bucks. And for whatever reason, I decided to buy that cardigan.

WHY?!

I don’ t know :::shaking head:::

SIGH

So here’s my letter to H&M

Dear H&M,

How are you doing? I am doing fine.  Thank you for asking. I just wanted to let you know that I have this one cardigan, that’s navy blue, and it looks really, REALLY nice. But when I try wearing it, I keep turning around in circles, trying to get into the other sleeve. And my friend kept on laughing at me for that (Don’t worry I’m working on getting friends that’ll follow me, respect me, and fear me. And would never never laugh at me). But the thing is, the cardigan was a size medium.

Medium! I fit into your small for the other cardigan sweaters. So pray tell, WHAT is the problem?

It’s not my fault you didn’t have a large. And it’s not JUST that the sweater was small for me, it was BAGGY in other areas. So once I was done spinning, and got my arm into the other sleeve (with the help of THAT friend), the sweater was just bunching up and looking all weird. I don’t get it.

What poor kid  in China or India did you pay25 cents to make that sweater? I demand you pay them with food and a lot more money so we can get better sweaters.

No, I’m actually lying. If you’re being mean to little kids, I’m starting a protest in front of the store I got my cardigan from. And no, you can’t keep me quiet with all the best fitting cardigans in the world. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try…

Back to my topic about the poor kid from China. Maybe it wasn’t a little kid. Maybe you actually hired some weird men to make our cardigans. In which case, I think the guy was drunk.

THE SWEATER WAS BOTH TIGHT AND LOOSE!

Even this sweater would look better on me—————->

What kind of properly made piece of clothing, from a famous store does that? Ok yeah, maybe if I got the sweater from one of those shady “back stores” in china town in New York, then okay my bad.

But you are not a shady “back store” in china town in New York City. You are H&M (just in case you forgot who you are)

Ok yeah, I don’t shop at your store too often. And I really didn’t get the craze with your store when it opened. But right now I am very disappointed.

I want the cardigans my friends were Oh Em Geeing about! Not the one I have at home, still sitting in that H&M bag. Probably with the receipt. WHY did I even bother running out to the mall if you didn’t have ANY?

You Madam, are ANNOYING!

Yes, I can return my cardigan. Blah blah blah. Thank you for your wonderul insight. Let’s just forget, “the customer is always right”. Who the heck cares about that? As long as the drunk guy sitting in the factory in China is fine.

I wanted to thank you for making my very first cardigan experience a horrible one.

Now excuse me while I put on that cardigan again, and try tugging at it until it looks okay. And I can convince myself it’s not a bad cardigan as long as I flash freeze it.

I hate you.

Have a great day!

Amrah

P.S. Please don’t forget to bribe me if you wish for me to stop that potential protest. Thank you.

So this teeny bopper came over to my  house yesterday.

You know teeny boppers with the, “OMG everything!” and the “MARRY ME EDWARD” and the “sigh HE’S SO cuteeeeee..” and the “Like I know!” and ” I can’t believe she said that!” ?

Well I had one at my house yesterday. Well actually two, but I’m gonna say one, just because the other one spend most of the time reading the second book of Twilight.

Which makes perfect sense, considering she’s a teeny bopper.
(See earlier statements)

So I wasn’t sure what to be expecting from these girls. Just try to imagine a sarcastic, 5th year college student around gum chewing, boy crazy, Hannah Montana adoring teeny boppers. It’s not a pretty picture.

And in all honesty, I was kinda afraid.

What kind of questions are they going to put me through?
[ Are you like old? How like old are you? Do you like ::squeal:: LIKE someone? OMG are the boys in college sooo dreamily like HOTTT? Do you like ::high pitched squeal:: Edward CULLEN? Doesn't he make you make you want to fall in love SIGHHH?]

Will I have to squeal every time they talk about boys?

Will I need to use ‘like’ and ‘OMG’ to 20 times in every sentence to communicate with them?
[Can you like omg please like pass omg like the plates like omg on like that like omg side of your like right side, like omg please?]

Or will I just sit staring at them in a room with an awkward silence, with a chirping cricket sound in the background?
[We don't ever actually hear crickets so it would be me making the chirping cricket sounds  ::chirp chirp::]

WILL I STILL BE ALIVE AT THE END?

I even came up with a plan of action. Just talk to them like they’re NORMAL people. Maybe they’ll respond the same way and not shock me into complete oblivion.

I dunno.

So they came, and we talked.

It was really weird. We actually talked. And we had dinner and then dessert.

And COMMUNICATED.

I mean okay, yeah I used Edward Cullen and Twilight as bait, but we TALKED in AN ENGLISH that I was able to UNDERSTAND. And my brain cells did not freeze or degrade or just plain stop.

Instead I had a really great time. And I even learned a couple of things from them (I mean besides the fact that teeny boppers are not some scary, force, whose sole purpose is to shock me into oblivion). Maybe it was just these girls that are the exceptions to the teeny bopper rule.

:::shrugs shoulders:::

What I do know is that I enjoyed my time with them and watched some really great youtube videos with them. And they were cute, in their own teeny bopper way.

Almost made me wanna go like :: squeal squeal::  for some odd reason. But I’m pretty sure I would be the one that would then shock them into oblivion.

I even tried convincing them to come to Wayne, or at least my mom tried convincing their mom to send them to Wayne State.

[Wayne State should really hire my mom as a spokeswoman. She goes around telling every mom out there about how I have such a great, and safe time at Wayne and their daughters would too. All she needs is a powerpoint presentation and a suit]

Anyways, so there’s this one video that the girl I made friends  with (Yes, FRIENDS)  showed me. It’s a  video from an Indian reality TV show called, Dance India Dance. It’s basically a knock off of (or of off?) So you think you can dance?

The video starts of with the participants practicing. Then it shows their performance and the judges comments. It’s in the Hindi language so you won’t quite understand what’s going on but I’ll do a ROUGH translation.

The video has a really touching message about handicapped individuals and dancing. So I’m here sharing the video that someone shared with me. It might seem a bit odd or dramatic to you, but please keep this in mind that the country is INDIA. Where there is still  a great lack of facilities for handicapped individuals, a proper acceptance of them and where you find a lot of individuals with missing limbs because of  child trafficking in the poorer populations, and etc.

Girl contestant:  While I was practicing, I kept on crying because I was in so MUCH pain.

Dude contestant: I’m going to try my very best to accomplish this dream, this goal that we have.

Dance performance

Roughly the song says : After seeing you, I can only think of how whenever you are with me I forget all my troubles. And walk through life smiling…I’m safe only with you…Whatever happens, I just want to be with you…etc. (Typical Indian song sap)

Host:  After seeing you guys perform today,  you proved that one does not need things like  one’s feet, hands, or even beauty for love. Just your heart for true love.  ( Really lady, you should join Hallmark). Would you like to say something?

Dude: I want Judge 1/instructor (?) to say something about this, since I do not think I could do a good job with it.

Judge 1 (?): Um. A long time ago, my friend had showed me a clip with people that were handicapped dancing. And that clip stayed in my mind. When we were auditioning for Dance India Dance, we met several people that where handicapped . Like person Y ….and person X who was blind and still danced in the auditions.

After seeing those people, I wanted someone to do something for them. SO this song, this performance, is dedicated to them.

Dude: I just wanted to say that it was scary for me to see myself sometimes in the mirror. It was frightening. And then also not being able to use it. I’m grateful to God for what I have. And I hope that my performance reaches the hearts of those people….

Girl: I wanted to cry when I was doing my performance. I do not even have the right to say anything about handicapped people or speak for them. Just that this performance was specially for them.

Judge 2: I just thought it was amazing that you, who are used to using both your hands and legs, were able to pull this off like that. It can be a scary feeling to lose a limb.

Judge 3: I have a strong fear of what I would do without the use of my hands.And I can understand your fear. And I just wanted to salute judge 1/instructor for this.

Applause (Cuz you know, I need to do a ROUGH translation of that for you too. Those Indians even have their applause in a different language..sheesh)

P.S. OH AND PLEASE don’t ask me what’s  romantic about a guy pushing away your crutches and dragging you on the ground. I promise you I don’t get it. I’m not even a fan of the dance. But I don’t dance so I’m going to try not to judge it. I  like the message….and some parts of the dance….

So I’m having an extremely angry day.

{AND please don’t be sitting there making grammatical corrections to my writing}

But I’m not here to talk about that. Or to talk about how  you should move out  after your sophomore year of college at the very at least. Or about what I thought of the 5th book of Maximum Ride especially since I didn’t GET to finish it.

But so far its been MUCH better then the 4th. But we’re not here for that.

And I’m not here to talk about my attempt at happy thoughts. Including the ever altruistic Peter from Heroes. And the show Heroes in general. And Lost. And books like Maximum Ride, which then brings me back to my angry feeling, since I couldn’t finish the book.

And not about my cat, Tigger.

And I’m not here to talk about Michigan’s weird weather. Hailing one day, raining the next, and blizzarding barely a week before.

Nor am I here to talk about my extremely irritating, chapped lips. I usually am fine with my rough lips. I actually like the feeling of my rough lips.

I don’ t know why I’m weird like that.

But now a days, they’ve been so painfully chapped that the edges of my mouth have blisters. So I scream in pain everytime I open my mouth. Usually a silent scream (which happens a lot). So then I look like a goldfish…in a weird way…I just can’t explain it. And so of course I’m not going to talk about how I’ve been slathering my lips with vaseline AND lipgloss. And then receiving the infamous question from all my friends, “Amrah? Lipgloss? WOAH” {YOU SIR ARE ANNOYING…and I DON’T CARE IF YOU’RE NOT ACTUALLY A GUY”

[Note: The post was started with an angry me, yesterday. I didn't finish it, so I'm going to finish it tonight with everything that I can remember I think I would have wanted to say.  I don't think that made any sense to you]

AND I’m DEFINITELY not going to talk about the movie, “I love you, man”. It really isn’t as funny as people might have made you believe. I mean, its funny. And there are some LOL moments, and the annoying loud people behind you make it a point to literally, LOL at the entire movie . But when people cuss, I get extremely turned off. I also get turned off when I go in expecting some good, clean fun and end up with a lot of dirty jokes. {Yes, perhaps I’m the idiot that expected good, clean fun from this movie, BUT we are NOT here to talk about that}

And what I really don’t want to talk about is how you decide to watch the movie you really weren’t too happy with, just  to escape from one of life’s cruel jokes. So I won’t talk about how a spontaneous decision to get your mind off things worked in an annoying way, though temporarily.

And I’m not writing to talk about my frustrating HP laptop that’s slowly making my hair turn gray.

{Um is it grey or gray? So confusing}

So I’m not here to talk about ANY of that.

Or even about how I’m going to be graduating and POOF, it’s all gonna be gone ( That dear readers, will definitely be for another day).

Now I have a confession to make.

Are you ready?
Since I’m finishing up this post, and entire day later, I  can’t remember what it was I wanted to talk about.

I truly have NO idea what I wanted to talk about or what I’m supposed to talk about. So there you have it.

I mean, I have things I want to talk about (as you can tell from my list above) but they are all deserve their own post. Not some cheap post they have to share with other topics.

So I’m glad you  read this post that never got to accomplish its goal.

Just watch me wake up in the middle of the night, remembering what it was I was supposed to talk about.

Just Watch!

Meh…Life just seems to work that way.

[Please Scroll Down or Click to  Read Part 1 and Part 2]

The place is PACKED. We stand around towards the top, empty seats around us, looking for empty seats closer to the stage. We can’t find any, we look around and the seats around us have filled up.

We walk all the way down, to the ground, and go up again on the opposite side.

I think I almost passed out while we were climbing the stairs to go up. At this point friend A is getting extremely annoyed, and friend B and I are in pain from climbing up the stairs. (Shut up. I already know I need to work out). Pooh’s sisters were like a blur. I just remember a really annoyed friend A, and concentrating on lifting my feet.

We find seats. But we have to go through some very large individuals to get to them. Friend A tries, and then decides we’ll have to go around. She announces a couple of times,

“We’re coming from the other side, so please make sure no one takes these seats. Please don’t let anyone take them. WE’RE COMING FROM THE OTHER SIDE. These seats are ours!”

At this point I’m thinking, okay they already hear you, let’s go.

So we go around and come from the other side, to find people starting to sit in our seats.

Here’s when it got scary,

Friend A: Excuse me. Excuse me! You’re sitting in our seats! EXECUSE ME THOSE ARE OUR SEATS!

Me: Oh dear. { I start moving back.}

Girl: No they’re not.

Friend A: Um YES they are. WE were going to sit in them and we were coming around from the back because we couldn’t get through. Ask anyone”

Girl: Um I don’t care.

Friend A: BUT YOU’RE SITTING IN OUT SEATS

GIRL: I don’t care. We’re already here. (Her friends/family had settled down by this point, and I knew we weren’t going to get our seats, but friend A wasn’t getting that)

Friend A: BUT THEY ARE OUR SEATS. WE TOLD EVERYONE THEY WERE OUR SEATS! Can you please tell them those were our seats?!”

One of the guys that was repeatedly told by friend A we are coming around: mumble mumble

Girl: I DON’T CARE

FRIEND A: WE WERE GOING TO SIT IN THOSE SEATS. THOSE ARE OUR SEATS ! You need to move.

Me: Oh God, I’m going to have to drag away friend A. Please don’t let this start into a fight.

Pooh’s sister starts saying the balcony seats are fine. I’m agreeing, hoping friend A will give up.

Nope

Friend A: NO. THOSE are OUR seats. We are not going upstairs!

Slowly friend B and Pooh’s other sister come over, friend A is getting angrier by the minute, still yelling and this time it’s at us too, I think for deciding to move away.

Friend A: WE.ARE. NOT. GOING. UPSTAIRS. THESE ARE OUR SEATS!

Eventually friend A, gets really angry and storms toward us. We part way, half terrified. We follow her up, as she stomps toward the seats that are on the edge, closest to the stage. We sit down in silence; I look at friend B and give her this smile, Oh that was fun. We should do it again.

We find out the show doesn’t start for another hour.

Now what could go wrong?

Pooh calls, asks where we are. We tell her. She says that she and our other friend found seats in the balcony and to come over.

Oh God Pooh, what are you doing?

Friend A still angry, “No our seats our fine. You guys come here”

Eventually Pooh comes over, I warn her about friend A’s mood, she ignores (there’s no way friend A would be angry…Haha! Guess again Pooh!)

I don’t know what happens. But Pooh leaves. Friend A still looks annoyed and I feel bad for Pooh.

I start talking to friend B,

“I feel bad for Pooh. She shouldn’t have to choose between sitting with us and them. It’s not her fault”

Friend B agrees, and we continue talking about poor Pooh. I’m hoping friend A is listening to this, knowing her, she’ll start feeling bad soon enough.

Plan works, and she does (Friend A is actually really sweet. She’s just controlling…like me). So friend B decides to go over to the other seats and scope them out.

We’re trying to tell friend B, where Pooh and company is, but she can’t hear us, until friend A starts yelling. {I guess she hadn’t completely calmed down}

“A! Stop that!”

“What? She couldn’t hear me!”

I’m still staring at her

“SHE couldn’t hear me!”

We find out they aren’t enough seats for us. So we have to remain divided. Friend B comes back, and I’m trying to convince friend A that these seats are better. She more or less acknowledges the statement, which was fine, because it meant she had calmed down. She feels bad for Pooh so we go over to the other seats to talk to Pooh ( I mean we had an entire hour before anything was about to happen).

Pooh wasn’t there. So we talk to our other friend for some time and decide to head back. We come back to find that Pooh had actually come by to visit us. Friend A apologizes to Pooh and friend B for snapping. It was all a very, Full House, moment.

It’s 8 pm and the show starts. The lights go off.

We eat our smuggled sandwiches, and realize our cameras are pretty useless. Still it was pretty cool. There was an hour of jazz/soul or something kind of music, a live performance.

Then KidRock came on (Friend A jumped two feet out of her seat), but all he did was introduce Jay Leno.

But it was a sweet introduction. I was convinced by the end that Jay Leno is a really great, caring guy.

Jay Leno comes on. The crowd screams.

I think Leno looks tired. The screens show some guy bowing down to Jay Leno.

Friend B turns to look at me and says, “Amrah try to keep up with the jokes. Just try”

I reply, “Shut up. I’ll be fine” {I have delayed responses at times. But so does everyone else. She was more or less referring to the dirtier jokes which usually fly over my head)

Jay was funny. I chuckled and smiled most of the time. Clapped, and applauded a couple of times. And started falling asleep toward the second half. He wasn’t boring; I was just tired and comfortable.

He talked about ‘cars that run on pee’; about the potential discovery of a fat virus, and people calling in fat to work; about men looking like pedophiles while looking for their wives’ cats through the neighbors’ bushes; and about how cheese cake became an ingredient and pizza became a condiment for pizza.

It was a good show.

When Leno made his first dirty joke both friends A and B, turned to look at me at the exact same time. I yelled that they had it planned, they said they didn’t.

The show ended right when I was about to truly fall asleep.

We left, met up with Pooh, and walked out laughing.

The first thing I saw were the piles of empty boxes. Pepsi was handing out free Pepsi to everyone. We each got one. A couple of us pretended to be incredibly slick and got two.

Then we get a call from Pooh’s brother. Apparently he showed up an entire hour after us, snuck in backstage with his friend, ate from Leno’s buffet and watched the entire show from the side of the stage. And we were so slick for smuggling in our sandwiches and getting our two cans of Pepsi. So slick. {Whatever I’m still proud of myself for pulling off the Doritos bag thing…even though they handed out free Doritos to us}

And as per our tradition for every place we go to, we take pictures. We cheered as some unknown limo drives by us. We stand around laughing, joking, taking pictures and making idiots out of ourselves for a good half hour.

I think. No, I know I laughed harder when we are all outside being our carefree, dumb selves.

So we had a great time. And I guess I have Mr. Leno to thank for that.

[Please Read Part 1]

We arrive at the palace, and have a mini-reunion with our two friends (since we haven’t seen them for an ENTIRE hour). Friend A and B want to get inside asap so we can get good seats. Pooh tells us another one of our friends is coming, so we try waiting around for some time. 10 minutes of watching floods of people come in we decide we’ll go in and save seats instead.

Then we hear the announcement: No camera’s, big bags, food or drinks are allowed. Please remove your jackets

Uh oh

We all look at each other. Pooh decides to shove her Doritos in my purse (you know because my purse isn’t already full of junk) and now my purse looks like, well like someone stuffed something into it. I’m trying to zip up my purse when Pooh’s sister realizes she can’t stick her subway sandwich in her pocket, and everyone decides that she should stick it in my purse.

I protest…to deaf ears…

We start walking toward the lines when we see the ushers opening and checking people’s purses.

“Uh new plan guys. How about we all put our food and cameras back into our cars?”

“No don’t be silly Amrah. Just stick your camera in your jacket. No one is taking of their jackets”

“Ok that’s great. What about the purse that looks like it has rocks stuffed into it?” (a.k.a. my purse)

Friend B takes out the Doritos, I sigh with relief, and sticks it in my jacket pocket

….

“It’s NOT even my chips why do I have to be one to carry it?!”

I’m trying to stuff the packet into my pocket, but the edge keeps sticking out.

“Oh my God Amrah. It’s fine. I have two bottles of pop and two sandwiches in my bag. I just put a scarf on top of them”

“No, no I refuse to get into trouble for food that does not even belong to me. Knowing my luck they’ll pat me down!”

…Of course everyone is walking away while I’m yelling.

“At least give me a scarf! “ {Stupid friends }

Friend A, pulls off Pooh’s Palestine shawl and gives it to me. I just stare at it as they continue to walk away. {Really, I can’t believe they’re my friends either at that point}

I stuff the sandwich in the scarf and stick into my purse, in the corner. I realize the Doritos bag won’t hide no matter what, so I clutch my purse to the side of my jacket, hiding my pocket.

I really, really, REALLY hope cameras weren’t looking at all that.

I run up to the line my friends are in, I’m actually  nervous. I have my purse open, clutched to my side. I go to the guy on the right, who tells a girl to open her purse, and I quickly stick my purse in his sight. He pokes and nods. I breathe. I walk out with my purse still clutched to the side, convinced someone is going to see the Doritos bag and call me back.

We all gather on the other side, glad to see that we made it through without incident. Then we notice Pooh is missing.

We look and look, and she walks up to the rope dividing us.

“Um the guy saw my camera. You guys go ahead I’ll catch up”

{This could be a scene from a really dramatic war movie. Scene: We were refugees trying to cross into the safe territory. The evil country people (Yes, I did say evil country people) were checking to make sure we don’t take any money with us. But if we didn’t bring any money, how would we survive. They didn’t care. All but one of us was made it through. And she bravely said, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll catch up with you guys. Take care of my sisters. I will see you guys. Go on without me. Just go. I’ll be fine.” We cried, but we knew we had no other choice. And we leave. End scene}

Only, what we did was laugh at Pooh, waited for 10 minutes, got sick of waiting and went upstairs.

Here’s the best part: WE GOT FREE POP and DORITOS!!!!!

Okay everyone who was there did. But still it’s the best feeling when you get free food (What can I say, it’s the Indian in me). But isn’t it cool how the chips packets were specially made for the late night?!

We wait another 20/30 minutes and then get annoyed. We go to look for seats, smiling, pop in one hand, and Doritos in another. (Yes, guilt did kick in extra hard when I was drinking my free pop…sigh)

To be continued in Part 3

The first time I heard about Jay Leno coming to Detroit to do a show was about a month ago. It was on the radio  while I was on my way to Wayne State. Basically he was going to have two free shows in Detroit for people who lost their jobs, especially those that used to work in the automotive industry.

He called it, “Jay’s comedy stimulus plan”. It was a nice thing to do. Being a big fan of cars himself, he wanted to cheer up those that may be depressed over losing their jobs. The tickets were free, and it was all based on the honor system. You didn’t need to prove you were unemployed.

Then I think it was a couple weeks later a friend approached me and asked if I wanted to go. And I replied with a flat no.

It was for people who needed it and we didn’t need it.

There was some whining, complaining. The “we don’t have jobs” argument. Then blah blah blah (I forget what else)

A couple days later, another friend, same question. Now scroll up, read the last couple of lines and voila! You have two different conversations summed into one (It’s like I’m mmmmagc! heh heh)

Now fast forward to last Wednesday night. I come home late from school with my cell phone dead. It’s the middle of the night, my phone is charging, and it rings. It’s my friend (let’s name her Pooh..from Pooh bear!).

“Hey Salaam (Arabic word for peace).

“Hey Walaikum’aslaam (And peace onto you)

“What’s up yo?”

“Yo, yo yo”

“Yippey ie yo”

“Yo yoda”

{Yeah…we can be extremely random and weird. Let’s fast forward to spare you the rest of our pointless ramble}

“Are you coming tomorrow?”

“Since I don’t know what you’re talking about. No I guess I’m not”

“NOO COMEEE! We’re going to Jay Leno’s comedy show tomorrow. The one at the Palace.”

“I don’t have tickets”

“I do. I got some for my family and got four for us. Me, you, friend A, B and C.”

“No I don’t think I can come. Plus the show isn’t for us. It’s for people who are depressed because they lost their jobs. I don’t feel right about going. I’ll be taking someone else’s spot that deserves it.”

“Ok . Whatever. Everyone who was standing in line with me looked like they still had their jobs. They kept on complaining about how long the line is, and how they’re gonna be late for work. Plus, we don’t have jobs, and we’re going broke from tuition so it only makes sense that we go. And I already have the tickets, so if you don’t come then no one will take the ticket and it’ll be a waste of a ticket.”

“…….”

“COME!”

“…er. No. I don’t care, I don’t feel right. Plus my mom is upset so I don’t see it happening”

{Anywho so the conversation dragged on like this for like another 20 minutes. With us going back and forth. I decided to deter my persistent friend}

“Ok maybe I’ll come. It’ll depend on my mom and whether she’ll be okay. But I’m not promising anything”

“Ok cool. I’ll call you tomorrow”

{So here I am, thinking I’m so smart. There’s no way my mom is gonna be happy with me going tomorrow, especially since she was so upset with me.}

The next day, my friend and gets a hold of me and started doing the begging/guilt thing again. And I’m still saying that it feels wrong. So then I tell her, if she asks my mom and my mom is fine with it then I’ll come.

She doesn’t want to call my mom. And I’m thinking, oh now she’ll give up.

“Well if you can’t ask my mom. I’m not going to tell her. So it’s okay I’ll just go home and relax”

“No. okay give me her number. I’ll talk to her”

Hmmmm.. There’s no way my mom will say its fine. Then she’ll have to give up, and it’ll all work out perfectly!

An hour later,

“Your mom said you’re coming with us. Yay!”

………oh well…..

5 pm I leave campus and go home. My friend picks me up from my house and we all drive down to the Palace. Its her, me, and her sisters. Friend C backed out, and friend A and B are waiting for us. The entire ride there I’m trying to convince myself that I’m not doing something wrong and have nothing to feel guilty about.

Before I left ,my friends kept on asking if I was excited. And I would truthfully respond not really. Jay Leno’s jokes make me smile and chuckle here and there, but I’ve never really cracked up more than once or twice. So there I am sitting in the car not really looking forward to the show, trying to unguilt myself. But at the same time I’m looking forward to the experience with my friends, my first time at the home of the Pistons, The Palace of Auburn Hills.

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART TWO

Dearest Reader

Another day, another post.

This is a writing  weekend. And by that I mean, I feel like writing this weekend. Which means you guys get back to back to back to back posts. Just not in the same day.

But before I inform you with the my incredible thoughts (Yes you may pause in anticipation. I have that kind of an effect on people) I shall digress.

I finished my book from last night. I was up till 2 or 3 am, swallowing the book whole (And I don’t mean literally. HELLO I’m a human, not a reptile. Not that reptiles would swallow books. Hmm I’m digressing in my digress ).  And I don’t know why but the book wasn’t that great. I was kinda disappointed

I mean it was good, just not salivating good. It still had its sarcasm,  and funnyness, and kick buttness (Ok I know you can’t just add -ness to a word and pretend its a word, but I like to do it anyways), but it’s been so long since I read the last book that I was incredibly conscious of how childish the book was at times.

Whatever. At least its MUCH better than a lot of other books out there. It still says on the top of my newest book obsession list. I think I shall start reading James Patterson’s other books and see if he’s the author for me.

I have this belief that everyone has an author that caters to her/his  reading need. We just have to find that author. I haven’t found mine quite yet; but maybe it’s James Patterson.

:::shrugs shoulders::

Hm. Now I don’t feel like talking about my original topic anymore. I don’t know why, but I feel like sharing a recipe instead. So I’ll just make a note to myself

Note to self: Talk about my day on thursday and the south asian population at Wayne.

I should have dramatic music playing with that note and then it’ll be like a post preview.

Like,

It was a thursday  Tun tananntun tunn
She had an exam and smelled like onions   Patushhh
AND it was HORRIBLE                                          shhhhhhh
She thought it would be okay, but then her friends named her onion bag

TANAAANUNAAA

“Who cares about them?”
“Well we’ll have to if they faint from the smell!”
DAANAA NAAA

“I can’t believe I’m doing this!”
DA DUSHHH

“Oh my god! Is that cricket?!”

Coming to a post near you. Rated PG for smells

……………………………………………………………………………………………………..

So you can wait for that post later, but for now there’s this recipe I came across that I feel like sharing simply because I’m hungry.

5 Minute Chocolate Mug Cake !!! (You need a mug and a microwave as far as appliances are concerned)

4 tablespoons flour

2 tablespoons cocoa

Add dry ingredients to mug and mix well.

And now to credit where I got the recipe. Please Click HERE

Okay I’m starving and I tried looking for some amazing, simple savory recipe that would hit the spot that I could whip up and share with you guys. But, I failed.

So I’m just going to go an eat my french toast.(My family eats breakfast food whenever they want. Rules don’t apply to us)
SIGH
If anyone would be wonderful enough to leave me a comment sharing an easy savory recipe, I’ll…I’ll…I’ll give you skittles ! Or a virtual hug. Whichever.

P.S. I think I hate wordpres. I just spent like 40 minutes trying to adjust my pictures and adding words, and dashed lines because for some reason the concept of ENTER kept on escaping this blog. ENTER . I am so incredibly annoyed right now.

Food on plate: Fries, fish sticks, scrambled eggs, and a slice of toast. With a side plate of ketchup (never say catsup ever!), hot sauce and ranch dressing.

Book in hand:  Maximum Ride: The final warning (holding breath)

Current condition: Still full from last meal that was basically a late lunch

Mood: Content/Ready to squeal/Slightly anxious

Location: At home, but I’m supposed to be at some 25 year wedding anniversary. (Family party)

THE END

Haha just kidding.

WOW . That would make a lame post.

If you’re wondering why I’m having such a weird dinner the answer is because that’s what my younger brother C made. No, I’m serious. He baked the fries and the fish sticks, made scrambled eggs (he LOVES eggs sometimes I think he would die without them) and toasted me a slice of bread.

Now if he was only like this all the time. I mean, minus the screaming that came when he was frying the egg.

C: AMRAHHHHH CAN YOU COME HERE QUICKLY?!!! PLEASE !!!
Me: What? What is it?
C: PLEASE !  QUICKLY !
Me (worried): OK OK

I run downstairs thinking something is burning, and I find him standing by the stove (…Oh Kay…).

C: Quickly, how do you make scrambled eggs? QUICKLY!
Me: Huh?
C: It’s turning into an omelette. QUICKLY! !!
Me: Oh my god. Just stir. Keep moving the spoon.
C: Oh. okay.

Sigh.

Well he is the most dramatic member of my family.

So why am I at home instead of at the family party, where I would probably find amazing food and friends?

Well, I have an essay I have to work on for an application to a program. This explains why I’m so anxious. I seem to be having a lot trouble figuring out what my career goal should be. I mean, I know ideally what I want to be but I can’t find a career goal that properly encompasses it.

Also, there’s that book that I KEEP glancing at, and salivating over.

Maximum Ride: The final warning.

I LOVE books. I love the smell, I love to read, I love the satisfying feel in my hands, and this series just happens to be newest obsession since Harry Potter. (Yay now you know one of those slightly embarrassing facts about myself)

Why is this book so amazing?

Strong female character? Check
Female character is the main character? Check
An enticing plot? Check
Do I relate to the character? Check, check
Wittiness? Check
Laugh out loud funny? Check, check
Book is well written and nothing like Twilight? CHECK
Action, excitement, and maybe a slight romance? Check, check anddd check

Now the only problem is that I can’t remember what happened in the last book. This is ALWAYS irritating, so I think I shall go and check out the bible of all information- Wikipedia.

Third reason I didn’t go was basically because I didn’t feel well.

(I’m about to go all nutrition on you)

PEOPLE PLEASE CHECK THE LABELS OF THE FOOD YOU EAT.

My older brother for some odd reason really enjoys frozen meals. You know the kind that look amazing but really don’t taste or even look like they do in the picture. Well I didn’t have lunch and was starving. So I decided to microwave and eat one of his frozen meals. And the entire time it was microwaving I was thinking about how a person from my lab was saying about how toxins are released when plastic is microwaved and have been shown to cause (or correlate ?) with cancer.

I decided to ignore and eat anyways. And then while I’m chewing I look at the nutrition label on the box and realize that it held 55 % of my sodium intake, and I added more salt to the food because it was so bland.

So I keep thinking about all that salt until I get nauseous.

Lesson of the Day: Stop eating microwave dinners. They’re disgusting for you.

Last reason I didn’t go, was because, honestly I just didn’t feel like it. There are times when I feel like socializing and there are times when I just really don’t feel like getting ready, smiling all the time, make polite conversation and watch people and make observations on them. I like my alone time, especially on Saturdays. So its nice to be sitting here, in my scrubs, TV blazing, with an entire list of things to do.

I like life. Oh and I love water (Yeah one doesn’t have anything to do with the other. I think I’m just really thirsty right now)

To summarize, books are amazing, microwave dinners are disgusting, my brother C is as dramatic as ever, a small basic post can take longer then expected to type, never ever say catsup, and water can sound extremely delicious when you’re thirsty.

Also I think everyone should make a bucket list like a blog friend of mine. A bucket list is a list of things you want to do before you die. So I’m going to start it right now with you guys (its probably just guy but ‘you guy’ sounds weird) and update it whenever I think of something when I write a post.

My vat docket:

1. …..hmmm…um..huh… To write a famous book. Actually, maybe it can be semi-famous.
2.  Visit the world’s largest catsup bottle in America and change the word to ketchup.

KETCHUP !!!

Okay so the last post was super duper muperly long. (Promise I’m not actually vocabulary challenged)

This one is going to be short. Or atleast I want it to be short.

I have Analytical lab every friday morning at 8:30 am. After having an incredible tiring day yesterday, I wanted to go and buy a gun to shoot my alarm, friday morning. Usually, it’s not that bad for me to wake up at 7 am. But like I said it was a tiring day the day before, and trying to get out of bed felt like I was fighting against  a bag of bricks that was thrown at me.

So morning starts out with me in a crabby mood. We hit traffic on the way to school and now I’m late for class.

Meh. It wasn’t a bad day, just tired.

Then lab starts and of course as per my tradition in my analytical lab class, I have to mess up my experiment at least once at some point and use the words, “CRAP”,  “argh” or “whoops” x number of times. Today wasn’t bad. My record for starting an experiment over again would have to be 4 or 5 times.

One of the most painful parts of analytical chemistry is when you need to pipette for example, 3.00 mL of something. You get these really annoying bulbs and tubes for which the miniscus has to be exactly on the line. Even a millimeter off from the line, means you have the wrong amount. Its  harder then it sounds, trust me.

So after re-doing the solution for my unknown all over again, and finally finishing my experiment, after painful repeated pipetting ( I think I may have arthiritis), I went to stand in line for the machine to read my results.

The entire class had to share one machine ( apparently we have more but this is the only that works…yeah right), so that means there were  8 or so people in front of me. Which meant that I stood waiting with my 5 samples for an hour to an hour and a half. My turn comes (I was singing hallelujah in my head), I put in my sample 4 and watch as the machine reads it.

Then I take out my sample number 4 to replace it with my sample number 3, ONLY to discover that it went missing.

T.A. : Amrah put your next sample in

Me: Errr I”m tying to…Did you take my sample?

T.A. : huh?

Me: Where is my sample ? Oh MY GOD. Where did my  sample go? T.A where did my sample go?!

Silence as we stare at each other.

My Thoughts: It was right here. I know I’m not going crazy. Where the heck did it go? This makes no sense. I couldn’t have imagined making it. It was right there before the kid who went before me left………. before the kid before me left.

T.A : AMRAH! Quickly go ask person Y (guy before me..I don’t know why I think of most guys as kids)  if he took it!

Me: Huh? Why would he take it?

T.A: GO QUICKLY !

I run over to the his bench,

Me: OH my god! Did you take my sample?

Guy: Huh ? (We had a lot of huh’s for one day)

Me: My sample 3!

Look at his bench to see an empty vial that formerly contained my sample 3. Things stop moving.

Me: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooo. My sample 3 !!!  No No No( You would think the way I yelled for it in my head, and out loud that it was some long lost lover that died)

Other guys trying to be funny: You should slap him.

Guy just looks confused and scared

I pick up my empty vial and slowly take it back to show my T.A. The thing is I never really got angry with the guy. I did freak out on him a bit when he did say that he didn’t know because it was with his stuff. I went off thinking about how it was clearly not next to his stuff. But I wasn’t angry with him, I was just over all extremely, extremely frustrated.

I was going to start pretend crying. The guy felt bad, apologized, and even offered to do it for me. Which I refused just because I was flustered and didn’t want to think of it .

Long story short, I ended up doing my sample 3 again. But while trying to make it I was still frustrated and ended up knocking down and breaking a vial that someone left on the corner of a bench. I decided I needed to calm down and even realized that I made scene that clearly showed the rest of the class how flustered I still was.  The guy thought I was mad at him. I tried to explain to him that I wasn’t. I figured that whatever happened well, happened, and was meant to happen and not to mention  it was a mistake that anyone COULD have made.

He left lab as soon as he was done. Later on, the more I thought about it, the guiltier I felt for making him feel bad.  I contemplated whether he was the type that has guilt eat away at him and whether I should email him and apologize to him. A friend convinced me that most guys wouldn’t and he probably forgot about it already. So then I decided I would just apologize to him in class next week.

My brother on the other hand doesn’t get how it went from him committing a mistake to making me want to apologize.

I think my brother is weird.

P.S. I just went through my last post and fixed all my spelling and grammar errors. I’m so sorry for making you read a post like that…Thank you for forgiving me