If anyone's wondering how my SAT went, it was horrible. English was cake easy, or perhaps I speak too soon... Math, however... let's just say my innate phobia of math set in and took over. People like me should get an additional 15 minutes on all math sections.
And for those who give the SAT more than once: I salute you. I don't know how anyone can do it multiple times.
This post, however, isn't about the SAT. I did as well as I expected I would do. So yeah. It's about monehz.
As per usual, I'm flat, stinking broke. I've been looking for jobs, because I desperately need the money ( and prostitution is not an option, before anyone suggests it.) and there's nothing. Nothing. Newspapers and magazines are not willing to pay and those that are don't want any more writers.
I thought about outsourcing, but those people have yet to get back to me.
Same goes for RJ-ing.
And tuitions... well.. I put up flyers, and figured no one wants literature, english or socio tuitions... So that's that.
(but umm, the offer stands. If you're in Karachi and doing your O levels, or know anyone in Karachi doing their O levels and needing tuitions for those subjects, you know where to find me? Yes.)
Seriously, what to do?
Whoever said money can't buy happiness was speaking with a pile of cow dung in his/her mouth, and spraying it on the rest of the world. I can recall countless instances where money has made me very happy. I could make a whole new blog about it. The money can't buy happiness thing is the same deal as "Jo hota hai achay ke liye hota hai." Sorry, that's another one liner you can't use with me.
I haven't been blogging much. Not that anyone cares, but Tweeting is so much more.. convenient? If not eloquent..
Last time I blogged, I'd forwarded my SAT date, which didn't help for shit. I'm still where I was, which happens to be a gazillion steps away from even the pathetic place in life more commonly referred to as Square One. And I have a literature AS one day before, so Dear God, if you must punish Charlotte Bronte for anything, now's the time and I have a few suggestions.
At this point in time, I'm suffering quite a few problems of my own. Since this is my blog, I can rant as systematically and as much as I want. As much as I want being, of course, a lot. So, ladies and gentlemen, and the ghosts of my imagination who read this blog:
1. Harvard Model United Nations. Boston. January 2010. Visas, check. Registration, check. Parental permission, check. Sponsors.... errrr..
Yeah. About that. I'm trying to resign myself to the fact that there's a very, very high probability that I won't be able to go because no one is willing to sponsor these days and I'm a poor kid from a third world, terror ridden country. Who got a U.S visa, but nonetheless. It's a bit difficult to accept, seeing how HarvardMUN is *this* far away from my reach and it happens to be something of a dream come true... I'd thought I'd be lucky if I made it to Lahore...
The offer is out there. If y'all want to help fulfil a poor kid's dream, you know where to find me.
2. College. All my life I went on about how I wanted to study law. Now that I have to decide what I want to do with my life, the wonderful dearth of options is actually making me consider taking a year off. There's one place that I want to go to if I stay here, no prizes for guessing where, but my stellar O level results and amazing predictions of SAT scores are more than an indication of where my fate rests when it comes to that particular place. I haven't applied to many places abroad because financial aid is very readily available and I don't want to be a beggar. Ha. Yeah. Anyway. Which leads me to....
3. I'm applying to one place in the States.Mount Holyoke. And no, not because I've suddenly decided to walk the other path. Not because I've been beaten and battered into it either. I want to go there. It's my first choice. Which has elicited many a "are you sure you want to go to an all women's college....?" Yeah, I'm extremely sure. Men aren't God's divine creatures who I won't be able to live without, thank you very much. So, Early Decision One, whichmeans the deadline is november 15th which means poor Jaahil is more screwed than ever. I should stop entertaining dreams of going to Holyoke.
Basically, money, or its lack thereof, is the root cause of all the evil problems in my life. I hate you money.
I changed my SAT to the 7th of November.
One day before the SAT.
I am a happy cookie. My mother, however, is an entirely different issue altogether and seems to be thinking that I'm refusing to give the SAT at all and making a fool out of her.
yaar tum na obsess buhat kartee ho
I know. I think I am a convoluted form of a highly unsuccessful perefectionist.
is so true.
I know. FML.
My memories for the past few days comprise of cough syrup, anti-allergy medicine, Panadols, green tea, honey, lemon, salt water gargles.... basically, anything that will rid me of this horribly disgusting flu that I seem to have caught. Apparently it's one of those "viral" thingies ( I hate that word, something always happens to me whenever I hear it's around.) that come and go as they please, so my efforts towards curing myself might as well be going down the drain.
My time is divided evenly between coughing, sneezing, spending quality time with my box of tissue paper, sounding like a foghorn and, when I have the luxury of it, sleeping. Unfortunately, all these funny medicines make me want to zonk out within an hour of me having taken them. Today was the first day of Eid, and I sedated myself with lots of sleepy-drugs and went out with the family trying to, but failing miserably at, looking like a happy cookie. I didn't even care that everyone complimented my sister on being dressed up like it was her wedding. The few times I did open my mouth to speak, my voice put me off so much that I had to shut up and devote myself to smiling inanely at random people. ( Random people I know, not random as in Walking-On-The-Sidewalk-So-I-Whistled-At-Them random.)
Apparently, even that little bit of talking was too much of a strain for my delicate throat. And this being the same throat that has vocal chords capable of jabbering on for hours, and hours and hours. Just imagine me not talking. Can you? I can't either. I came back home and I was almost croaking. So I drugged myself a little more, and went to bed. And here I am, up at 4:30 am, wide-eyed enough to be blogging. When I'd woken up, I thought my throat had miraculously healed itself because I could talk and I didn't sound so bad. It didn't even hurt. But about 40 minutes later, it's back to square one. Whoever said sleep fixes a sore throat can just go suck it. It doesn't.
Then there's my mum, who seems to think I'm about to drop dead every single time I fall ill, which is at least once a month ( I found this out because Abdul and Aki were talking about how often I seem to be ill, and once a month was their average). I think she should, by now, be used to the fact that I have a screwed up immune system and I won't eat desi ghee ke parathay to fix it. She thinks it's because I didn't eat pakoras this ramadan and constantly reminds me of how I was a healthy and happy (Read fat and ugly) kid. At least my face doesn't look like a balloon anymore.
Also, I'm convinced that I'm jinxed. This time, I have RotMUN starting on Thursday. When I had typhoid, I couldn't be in the school play. Everysingletime I'm about to do something fun, I fall ill. Divine intervention, karma or does someone really, really hate me?
This is not a good time for me to be alive, or applying to college. Because when you're broke, you shouldn't aim, or dream big. You should limit yourself to that obscure-university-in-some-random-part-of-the-city bubble, from which you may never escape.
Then there's the recession. Students with excellent credentials are lining up for financial aid, unsure of whether they'll actually get in because they've applied for aid with their admissions. There's tonnes of them. What can someone with 5 O level As aspire to? You might try, but if at the end of the day everything just falls flat on its face, there really isn't anything to be done.
Of course, we've got that one place in Pakistan that everyone wants to go to, no prizes for guessing which one. Their selection criteria is tougher than that of some of the best universities in the world.
The world gives me more and more incentives to shoot myself.
So, back to that chicken coop otherwise known as School. Now Lyceum, as some of you might know, is tiny (Pictures here ). Top that off with the vertical construction, and the addition of rooms wherever there might be any space left over, any corner where, God forbid, SUNLIGHT can find the poor, unassuming lambs that the student body comprises of. I walked into school to find all the A2s (i.e what we've become now.) crowding around the front. Near the fountain. On the mooras. The benches. Stumbling over each other. Shoving and nudging to get a glimpse of those pieces of paper which would let them know how screwed they are for the next year. And then there was the lack of fans. And Victor strutting about gleefully, trying to bully people, and failing miserably at it.
It was then that I decided to go check out what was happening in the shed. And I realised why everyone was crowded around the front. The shed, where the ever abundant supply of mooras were found early in the morning in straight rows, was closed off. No mooras, only lots of cement, workers, and noise pollution.
So I got myself fries and tried to feel better about the whole situation, and I hadn't even checked my timetable yet. When I did, however, I had to stuff myself with yet more fries, because I am extremely screwed. I have constant literature classes. I will be eating, sleeping, breathing, crapping, talking... everythinging literature at school this year. Now I love the subject, but 3 hours of literature class without break...Seriously? No, please.
Then there's the case of the wretched room 4. Last year, there was no such thing as room for at the Lyceum. No sign of it. Therefore, confused I was when I found out I'd be living in Room 4. Most of my literature classes are there. So are a few sociology and history classes. Room 4 is tiny, without ( at the expense of sounding like a brat) an airconditioner. The only saving grace, and a feeble one at that, is the view of the huge house next door, with that big garden and the desi murgha roaming around insolently, with his feathers gleaming in the sun.(Friend: What the hell. Inn ke ghar mein murgha kyuun hai? Me: There was one in your house too... Friend: No, but that was a chooza that grew into a murgha. Me: How can you say that this one wasn't? Besides.. your family ate that one...... My point being, the murgha will be a source of many inane discussions to come. I have bagged the seat by the window.) But the murgha I will get to see only if I get very lucky, because on a plot of land that big, he could go off anywhere (He disappeared today). I have yet to figure out whether that huge garden with the murgha( as entertaining an avenue as it might be for my daydreaming ventures), has been strategically placed right fucking next door to torment us. I mean. Here we are, at the Lyceum. Cooped up, with no source of light, no fans....350 students ( 750-800 when the A1s come), in this small building, bumping into each other again and again, and there he is, a murgha in all his feathery glory, on that vast expanse of land......all alone..happy....
It is so, so ironic. I wouldn't be surprised if that thing turned around and mooned me.
On my first day back to school, I gained 5 pounds, got screwed over and died in the heat.
This post will be edited soon. Hoohaa. My city was drowning, and traces of it can be seen everywhere you look. Also, we didn't have electricity for 48 hours, and tv still isn't working. Details later p33pz. Tata.
1) Look at the list and put an ‘X’ after those you have read. 2) Tally your total at the bottom. 3) Tag a few people you think would enjoy sharing similar information about their book interests.
1 Pride and Prejudice – Jane Austen 2 The Lord of the Rings – JRR Tolkien 3 Jane Eyre – Charlotte Bronte 4 Harry Potter series – JK Rowling 5 To Kill a Mockingbird – Harper Lee 6 The Bible 7 Wuthering Heights – Emily Bronte 8 Nineteen Eighty Four – George Orwell 9 His Dark Materials – Philip Pullman 10 Great Expectations – Charles Dickens 11 Little Women – Louisa M Alcott 12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles – Thomas Hardy (I became lazy halfway through.) 13 Catch 22 – Joseph Heller 14 Complete Works of Shakespeare 15 Rebecca – Daphne Du Maurier 16 The Hobbit – JRR Tolkien 17 Birdsong – Sebastian Faulks 18 Catcher in the Rye – JD Salinger 19 The Time Traveller’s Wife – Audrey Niffenegger 20 Middlemarch – George Eliot 21 Gone With The Wind – Margaret Mitchell 22 The Great Gatsby – F Scott Fitzgerald 23 Bleak House – Charles Dickens 24 War and Peace – Leo Tolstoy 25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy – Douglas Adams 26 Brideshead Revisited – Evelyn Waugh 27 Crime and Punishment – Fyodor Dostoyevsky 28 Grapes of Wrath – John Steinbeck (Soon =D) 29 Alice in Wonderland – Lewis Carroll 30 The Wind in the Willows – Kenneth Grahame(Never.) 31 Anna Karenina – Leo Tolstoy 32 David Copperfield – Charles Dickens 33 Chronicles of Narnia – CS Lewis 34 Emma – Jane Austen 35 Persuasion – Jane Austen 36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe – CS Lewis 37 The Kite Runner – Khaled Hosseini 38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin – Louis De Bernieres 39 Memoirs of a Geisha – Arthur Golden 40 Winnie the Pooh – AA Milne 41 Animal Farm – George Orwell 42 The Da Vinci Code – Dan Brown 43 One Hundred Years of Solitude – Gabriel Garcia Marquez 44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney – John Irving 45 The Woman in White – Wilkie Collins 46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery (does the abridged version count?) 47 Far From The Madding Crowd – Thomas Hardy 48 The Handmaid’s Tale – Margaret Atwood 49 Lord of the Flies – William Golding 50 Atonement – Ian McEwan 51 Life of Pi – Yann Martel 52 Dune – Frank Herbert 53 Cold Comfort Farm – Stella Gibbons 54 Sense and Sensibility – Jane Austen 55 A Suitable Boy – Vikram Seth 56 The Shadow of the Wind – Carlos Ruiz Zafon 57 A Tale Of Two Cities – Charles Dickens 58 Brave New World – Aldous Huxley 59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time – Mark Haddon. 60 Love in the Time of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez 61 Of Mice and Men – John Steinbeck 62 Lolita – Vladimir Nabokov (Soon, again=D) 63 The Secret History – Donna Tartt 64 The Lovely Bones – Alice Sebold 65 Count of Monte Cristo – Alexandre Dumas 66 On The Road – Jack Kerouac 67 Jude the Obscure – Thomas Hardy 68 Bridget Jone’s Diary – Helen Fielding 69 Midnight’s Children – Salman Rushdie 70 Moby Dick – Herman Melville 71 Oliver Twist – Charles Dickens 72 Dracula – Bram Stoker 73 The Secret Garden – Frances Hodgson Burnett 74 Notes From A Small Island – Bill Bryson 75 Ulysses – James Joyce 76 The Bell Jar – Sylvia Plath 77 Swallows and Amazons – Arthur Ransome 78 Germinal – Emile Zola 79 Vanity Fair – William Makepeace Thackeray 80 Possession – AS Byatt 81 A Christmas Carol – Charles Dickens 82 Cloud Atlas – David Mitchel 83 The Color Purple – Alice Walker 84 The Remains of the Day – Kazuo Ishiguro 85 Madame Bovary – Gustave Flaubert(erm. Soon) 86 A Fine Balance – Rohinton Mistry 87 Charlotte’s Web – EB White 88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven – Mitch Albom 89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes – Sir Arthur Conan Doyle 90 The Faraway Tree Collection – Enid Blyton 91 Heart of Darkness – Joseph Conrad 92 The Little Prince – Antoine De Saint-Exupery 93 The Wasp Factory – Iain Banks 94 Watership Down – Richard Adams 95 A Confederacy of Dunces – John Kennedy Toole 96 A Town Like Alice – Nevil Shute 97 The Three Musketeers – Alexandre Dumas 98 Hamlet – William Shakespeare 99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory – Roald Dahl 100 Les Miserables – Victor Hugo (er..soon....)
A lot of these books are in my dad's collection, so I will get to reading them eventually. I feel illiterate now. Tsk=( 22 books in the 18 years I've been around.=(
Laila I have found the answer to one of life's greatest mysteries.
Sanaa which iss...?
Laila Okay, I'd been waiting to ask this question for a long time, but I couldn't find the right person. But now I have: Q. Why are boys so stupid? A. They are not stupid. They pretend to be. (Why would they do that?) To lower your standards. at first I was like WTF. But now I get it. ^^
Sanaa Yes see theyre moronic so they can get away with their bullshiz
Laila ahaan. I've actually seen this behavior in men. My dad, for example. He can be having a conversation with my mum but the second she mentions something he doesn't want to respond to, he pretends to have fallen asleep. I'm not kidding.
Sanaa men. its an affliction that strikes all ages=\
Laila mmhm. Actually the thing I hate most about men... Is that they don't know when they want to compliment your or insult you. So they'll give you a mix of an insult and compliment and then leave it to your interpretation. and then if you ask them they give you some BS cryptic answer Even if their relationship with you it totally platonic. The only man I've met who doesn't do this is my nana.
Sanaa cause your nana is cool the rest of them are twits
Laila Me: -_--_- D: Chinese eyes again! Me: =/ is that better? D: Definitely. it looks a lot more like you = ) me: is that a good or bad thing. D: Whichever you want it to be.
Oh look. It's Miss Pakistan WORLD. I was randomly browsing, and I came across this wonderful website. How very nice. Our very own beauty pageant. For Pakistani girls. Aww.
Now, I've never been a big fan of beauty pageants. While some people choose to believe that is the case because I do not resemble (and will never resemble) in any shape or form, a beauty pageant contestant, I beg to differ. And I can state more than a hundred reasons for that, but you can google feminism, and you'll find instant answers(or links that lead to them, anyway) so let us not waste our valuable time.
So about this website. The Miss Pakistan World pageant, from what I have gathered using my incredible investigative journalism skills (too many hours of boredom+immense desire to find something to mock/laugh at/rant about)is that it was started in 2002 for Pakistani girls belonging "mainly to North America and Europe", and apparently spread like a plague to the rest of (?) the world. The president of this event happens to be a certain Miss Sonia Ahmed, who hopes for a Modern Pakistan through..you guessed it... MISS PAKISTAN WORLD! *confetti moment* Miss Sonia Ahmed with some douche called Mika Singh
Not only is the website cheaply made, they want to charge people $500 dollars for entry into a competition that reeks of utter uselessness. It's like Rizwan Beyg proclaiming "Oh I think it's absolutely wonderful that despite the recession the fashion family manages to get together and celebrate its creativity!". Delightful, a bunch of elitist twits getting together to check out clothes, buy clothes, talk clothes, dance clothes, eat clothes and everythingelseclothes. Which reminds me of this segment on the Nadia Khan Show (If you haven't heard of it, you are either living under a rock, or are blissfully unaware of a thing known as bored housewife syndrome, which touches all of us. Actively, or passively. Like secondhand smoke.)which shows what's going on with the middle aged yuppies in Dubai. They showed a "fundraising" dance party a few days ago, and it was, to put it quite succintly, revolting. Sweaty, frumpy, middle aged men and women doing weird bhangra moves on a dance floor. However, it was an amazing way to have them feel good about themselves (everyone looked ugly and frumpy, you see.) and extort them. Way to go fundraisers! Not only have you provided for the education of poor children in Pakistan, you have also given them footage to amuse themselves with while learning the important lesson of how not to behave like an absolute dumbfuck.
Back to Miss Pakistan World. Here you can find the contestants. Three whole years of them. Even the gallery is a bit shady, they all look like they're involved in the making of a pornographic film about psuedo Pussy Cat Dolls, as if the PCD weren't pornographic enough themselves. (Jai Ho feat. PCD, anyone?) I mean, what is this?
I used to be happy, not knowing such atrocities existed. No beauty pageants in/for Pakistan. What a wonderful world it was, even though it did put us in the same league as the Saudis with their stance on contests such as these. Not quite so drastic, but essentially the same. And look at this now. Enlightened Moderation too much? Much much much? It's the tackiness of it all that's so shocking. You're not revolutionising the Pakistani society, you're just making it look tacky and disgusting. I can see how this will get us respect from the rest of the world. I can already envision the investment funds pouring in, people dropping their warped image of pakistanis....
Here is summer, June has passed its mid mark and as predicted, I have (yet again) succumbed to my role of universal uselessness. As mentioned in the previous post, I was going to look for an internship. I did look for said internship. However, the people at Dawn News seem to be a bunch of twits who do not understand the simple sentence " I do not want any money, I just want to get some work experience.". Either that, or they mistook me for an 8 year old who'd just get in the way while loitering about at the office. In a way I don't blame them. The did have poppies in their last advertisement. For those who do not know what the word poppies means, it's slang for the.. erm..."popular" crowd. Yes, the very same crowd of people who just happen, as I've mentioned in a different previous post, not to know what words like courtship and euphoria mean. Perhaps the folks at Dawn News are disillusioned with the youth of this country because of that particular incident. Or,they're just.. what's the word for it? Oh yeah. Douchebags. With 50 foot long iron rods up their asses. Whatever it is, hopefully it'll fix itself soon. Otherwise when they're crawling on their knees begging me to come work for them in the near future, I will kick them like any annoying ingrates ought to be kicked.
The other channel I wanted to apply to was Express 24/7. Yes, the same one that ripped off the SkyNews logo. That being besides the point, however. Express News does not have a website. What kind of a dysfunctional channel are they running? There is no website.WHAT IS WITH THAT? Furthermore, try getting their phone number from the numskull operators who sit behind those telephones you're connected to every time you dial 1217. After holding the receiver in your hand till it's painfully numb ( the hand. Not the receiver, an operator finally blesses your tele-presence by answering your call. I asked for the Express 24/7's number. They gave me some funny 0800 number which seemed quite dubious to begin with, and which, as I found out, would just not connect. It just wouldnt. I have concluded that not only are the people at Express News utter and complete rip offs, they are tech retarded and idiotic, with phone lines which do not function.
And the Dawn News people are snobs. S N O B S.
Now that the first rant is out of my way, I will proceed to the next thing on my agenda: Food. On the 16th we had my sisters (late) birthday party. My mother and I cooked loads of food. I cooked more, because I had (being the wiseass that I am) offered to cook more. So I cooked. Some guests didn't turn up, which didn't help matters because there was a lot of food. I mean, a lot. So we decided to save some for next day, and freeze the rest for later. All ok? Everyone's happy? Not quite, but alrighty. After the food was frozen, we sat back and relaxed, and I told my mother "Just because I can cook, does not mean I want to get married." I didn't just say that. Oh no. You see, my cousin had mentioned some funny rishta talk. And the rishta talk radars on my ears immediately picked up on the suspicious conversation. But more of that later. The issue here is: Food.
So the next day, the lights went out at around 6:30 pm. Lucky for me, since I had started puking my guts out half an hour ago. I don't know what happened, but I couldn't stop throwing up. And before there are any jokes about the food I cooked, let me tell you, everyone was in excellent health, the only person who fell ill was me. Horror, horror. No electricity, and vomit. Wonderful. My mother came back, I was taken to the doctors, yada yada yada. The point again is: food.
The lights were out for about 22 hours. My heart was breaking as every hour passed. All the food that I'd cooked. All that hard work going to waste. Half the food went bad. As for KESC. I hope it dies and goes to hell.
My exams are over. *does little jig* Not really, but I have only one more and I don't have to study for it. Therefore *resumes little jig*
As determined as I am that this summer should not go to waste, I'm not sure how I'm going to go about "not wasting" it. Because the excitement of being in the library lasts for about two weeks before I get bored/annoyed/restless and consequently emo about my life, calling it a variety of unflattering things such as...pathetic. Stupid. Useless. Sad. Non-existent.
My life has self esteem issues, I think. Perhaps. Maybe.
But then I have things to do. Prepare for the SATs. Get an internship. Devise ways to avoid house arrest. Get through my summer reading list. Make fun of the president.
Which reminds me. I live near Bilawal House. The location is a visual haven for Zardari fans. And I'm not one. So everyday, I pass by this poster of Zardari. A picture of his beautiful face, under which is written "SOCIALISM IS OUR ECONOMY.". I've seen it a million times, it still amuses me to no end.
Since I have nothing very useful/coherent to say, I'll wander around the house till I find something to do. Or I'll listen to The Gossip. I love The Gossip. Awesome funky music.
I want to study in New York or London. Something of a sucker for big city life, I am.
mr bum fun says: a fat atheist once kissed me he was 40 and weighed 200 pounds
Sanaa~ says: HE? A GUY? YOU NEVER TOLD ME!
mr bum fun says: went to see a comedy thing.. 2 atheists performing their entrance was all energetic highficing people... we were sitting right in frtont of the tiny stage and he just grabbed my face and kissed me before going on hahahahha
Sanaa~ says: HAHAHAHAHAAH ARE YOU SERIOUS? hahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahah
mr bum fun says: yes this was a few months before we started talking Sanaa~ says:
lol lol lol lolllllll hahah im soo amused
mr bum fun says: so yah ive kissed a guy (h)
Sanaa~ says: mubarak ho aap ko =p *you kissed a guy before you kissed a girl*HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA
I have found out from PR that the pathetic excuses for literature students whom I mentioned in my last post displayed their lack of knowledge about the English language, yet again. What does courtship mean? Courtship. Ehmagawddd. WHUZZATT?! 0.o I feel rather sorry for these people, I honestly do. First of all, they have such a wonderful grasp over the English language. And then, their eloquence in Urdu is astounding. It's like they've manufactured their own language, a dumbed down version of Minglish (as if Minglish isn't already dumbed down enough.-_-)punctuated with too many "OhMaGawd, like, tohtallllyy."s. And they're perfectly alright with being absolute dumbfucks. No issues whatsoever.
Please join, and do yourself and the rest of the world a favour. The Society for the Promotion of Good Grammar is a dream come true. I need merchandise. I will roam around wearing SPOGG t-shirts because they're incredibly sexy. With my awesome SPOGG mug. *swoons*
In other news, I've been out of touch with blogdom because I've been busy having, you know, a life. Not really. I'm just big fat lump of laziness, and it's going to get me into serious trouble one of these days but I'd still rather be promoting SPOGG than doing "something useful" like studying. Pfft. SPOGG is a very, very worthy cause to promote. These people want to help the gramatically retarded. Or shame them into making an attempt to improve. Studying ain't got nuttin' on dat, yo. So my transcripts will be horrible, and no university will accept me with the pathetic SAT score I'm going to get, but, I will be happy because I helped SPOGG.
I have a friend who hates Twilight so much, he read all four books just so he could bash it. He texted me a while ago saying:
Twilight keeps getting better. Bella the village hick is now a vampire who exhibits an uncanny controld over her thirst. The Demon baby who rips out of her womb is a few weeks old. Her Edward rebound Red Indian turned werewolf is madly in love with demon baby.
That woman wrote drug fuelled trash.
He forgot to mention how Jacob practically moved in with the Cullens. But. HAHAHA=D
Mario has gone Valentine crazy. She tried to hook Ataka up with Waqax. Who tYp3X lYk3 Dix. When asked why he uses an X instead of an S, he said ( in his psuedo, very, very fake "American" drawl) * becaaaaaaaaaaaaauzze, you haaaave taa press 4 times for S but just once for X.* Whattayyy reasoning. I once went through Mario's inbox, took me five minutes to decipher one message of his.
SHE TRIED TO HOOK ATAKA UP WITH WAQAX.
Ok sorry, this is just....extremely amusing.
Just for the record, she didn't say yes. She's my date. (h)
Sanaa~ says: my mum is making up weird stories to tell ,my sister. Sanaa~ says: 0.o Sanaa~ says: and im the one cracking up at them. sheesh Mani says: like? Sanaa~ says: umm Sanaa~ says: * aik chooza tha. ussne murghi kee taang khaalee. phir woh ghada bann gaya. lekin jo murghi kee taang thee, ussko kuttay ne chaata tha. tou woh jo gadha thaa, woh kuttay kee tarah bhonknay laga. ussko dekh kar billi darr kar bhaagnay lagee, tou bhaagtay bhaagtay woh haathi se takraa gayee, haathi bechara girr gaya, lekin uss ne billi ko sorry bola.* Sanaa~ says: and so on. Mani says: hmm. some interesting metaphors there... Mani says: the elephant could very possibly represent the english. Sanaa~ says: HAHAHAHAHAAHHAAHAHAHAH OH GOD. Mani says: gigantic, loafsome, yet polite. Mani says: the cat represents all the people, mostly women (i like how your mother's engendered it to be feminine), who run away from things based on fear. Sanaa~ says: what about the chooza that became a donkey and barked ? Mani says: the gadha/kutta thing, i feel, portrays very effectively cross-culturalism. as in, i look desi, but i sound like i'm american/british. Mani says: it's just generallly about change Mani says: for example... Sanaa~ says: in the end the murghi retrieves its taang from the donkeys stomach and the donkey becomes a chooza again and the billi realises what he is, and starts chasing him Mani says: the muslim chooza ate unhalal chicken, and became a BBCD who shows no respect for religion. Mani says: again, it perfectly paints typical progressions within each mindset. Mani says: the woman's fear is absolved, and thereby it will continue cchasing the chooza. Sanaa~ says: HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAH Mani says: the murghi is no longer being eaten by the donkey, who realises what it really is, and stops sounding like a dog too. Mani says: your mum should write absurdist literature for children. what the hell is she doing being a lawyer? Sanaa~ says: ive realised my mum likes making stories about choozas Mani says: possibly Sanaa~ says: like there was this one Mani says: ooh Sanaa~ says: and theres this series of stories from my childhood Mani says: more absurdist interpretation Sanaa~ says: about a chooza called timmoo Sanaa~ says: who was a naa laaik chooza Sanaa~ says: his mum kicked him out Sanaa~ says: she said tu naa laik hai, parhta nai hai, jaa dafa hoja Sanaa~ says: then he moved in with a chirrya Sanaa~ says: and was going to get married to her..but he had to try very hard to convince her Sanaa~ says: her had to like.. clean up her ouse and shit Sanaa~ says: =\ Mani says: your mum's clearly a feminist. Mani says: and believes in the reversal of traditional roles within the household. Mani says: unfortunately, the society she was born and raised in, and belongs to, doesn't sufficiently consider her opinion worth appraisal, let alone her desire to triumph alone without doing it at the behest of a man Mani says: as such, she has to paint her true colours through the medium of storytelling involving choozas. Mani says: this story also reeks of a twisted romanticism. that she would be found by a man who was madly in love with her, and completely willing to be kept under foot, if only he could marry this lovely bird. Mani says: may i point out the irony of the bird being female (chicks, birds, all modern slang for the woman), and the man being a rodent, therefore implying that he is weak, dependent, and completely lacking protection or cunning. Sanaa~ says: hahahahahaha ILOVE HOW YOURE PSYCHANALYSING MY MUM=P Mani says: i rate your mom's story 4 stars Sanaa~ says: the man is a chooza=\ Sanaa~ says: called timmoo Sanaa~ says: get your facts right mani! Mani says: chooza kya hota hai?
This is a pointless blog post. It is as pointless as a loser in a banyaan trying to hit on me. Or him thinking that trying to shove food into my mouth will win him my affection. (There IS such a loser at my school, who has the ghastly habit of trying to shove food into the mouths of his potential paramours. I am not even joking.) But, as pointless as this post is, it's my blog. I can be as pointless on it as I like. So suck it bitchezz.
I apologize for my lack of eloquence.
I didn't get to go to the Kamila Shamsie book launch, surprise surprise. I was, instead, dragged off to my pupho's, where I was told off for displaying 3 inches of leg, told I was a heretic, and predictions were made about my afterlife. ( I am to suffer eternal damnation, just so you know. For the legs, and for the nails. God hates me.)My sister, who was in a sleeveless shalwar kameez, got to hear worse. Not only is she going to hell, she is going to be in Dante's 7th circle of the wretched place. I think I might go into the 3rd or 4th. So I'm still better off, I suppose. (h)
Went to Ataka's house today. Was a whole lot of fun. We almost peed in our pants laughing, but stopped just in time. We also sat in her bathtub, and took pictures. Fully clothed, mind you. ( stop trying to conjure up sick mental images, you perverted bastards) I love the Japani-ness of that girl. I think I'll marry her. Besides, she has this awesome smelling hairspray which can totally be used as body spray. Ok fine, that's just me trying to cover up what I did. Here is what happened:
Me: * Happily sprays on nice smelling "body spray" in Ataka's bathroom* Ataka: That's HAIRSPRAY, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? Me: * stops* WHAT? Ataka: *falls down laughing* Me: DUDE. HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW, IT SMELLS NICE! Ataka: Yeah it does. But it's hairspray. Me: It doesnt SAY so. Ataka: It does! Me: WHERE? Ataka: HERE! Me: That's in Japanese. Loser. Ataka: Oh...yeah...
And the following exchange should make a certain someone very happy:
Ataka: You want a foot massage? Me: No. Ataka: Are you SURE you don't want one? I'll give you a foot massage you know.
Foot massages lead to a lot else. Maybe Ataka's finally leaning towards homosexuality, in which case, I should also change my orientation. Perfectissimo it would be.
I'm supposed to be studying, but I'm blogging pointlessly. How awesomely awesome am I? Got Crime and Punishment today. I like it so far. Let's see how we proceed.
When I went to school in the morning today, I went with the knowledge that I had not done my socio homework. I was also aware of the fact that the homework had been given to be by Bitch-Socio-Teacher-From-Hell, who hates me, and whose class I hate with a passion. The other two teachers are fine, ( especially the hot one. She's hot. And I'm slightly gay.)but this one has major issues.
So I don't go to my 8:40 am class. I instead, decide that I will do my homework in the first and second periods(which were from 8 to 9:20) then go to the 10 am class. Except that, change of events. I met people, I got distracted, I didn't feel upto it. Hence, I ended up not going to class, not doing my homework and not going to the 10 am class either.
After which, we had history. Now our history teacher has decided to make a quick run to the Maldives because she's fucking sick of our faces. Who wouldn't be, if they have to teach people like DS. So, I realised that the last time she wasn't there, the same bitch socio teacher had decided to fill in for her. And I thought *OMGWTF*. I sneaked up to my history class, to check if bitch teacher with extremely shrill, annoying voice and a tendency to repeat herself 10 times was there. She wasn't. Then Maryam, more commonly known as Squeaky, announced that we were, in fact, supposed to watch a movie today in History Teacher's absent. And I thought *hallejullah!*. So far, so good. The whole class went upstairs to the AV room, which seems to be the favourite room of the whole school. Something to do with the fact that it is the nicest room in school into which students are allowed access. Just when we were about to enter the AV room, this weird dude from the library, who goes * SHHHHHHHHHHH* every time you even sneeze, blocked our entry. And started interrogating us. The exchange was as follows:
Freaky Dude: Kyuun aaye ho yahan? Me: Movie dekhnee hai. FD: Kisi se poocha hai? Me: Miss Aisha se. FD: Unhon ne permission dee? Me: *getting irritated* haan. FD: Kaunsee movie dekhnee hai? Me: * A porno, you fucktard.* Pata nai. FD: Tou phir andar nai aayein abhi aap loag. Me: *wanting to kick guys in balls.*
Squeaky: People! SD is going to take our class, go downstairs! ( SD being bitch teacher.) Me: Oh shit. I'm not going to class.
So I decided I'd bunk history too. Except that history didn't happen, eventually, so yay?
Basically, I went to only one class today. I feel like I wasted my day. Oh well, worth it.
In other news, I REALLY WANT TO GO SEE KAMILA SHAMSIE AT T2F TODAY OMG OMG OMG=|
I was actually looking forward to V day in a high school setting. I was well prepared for it too, you know, I'd even selected the couples I'd make fun of. ( All of them, if you'd like to know.)
Valentine's days in my life, ever since I discovered their..err... "significance", have been disasterous. Seriously. I miss the days of my childhood, when I went to Park Towers one V day and saw a "Couples Karaoke Competition" going on, and didn't know what to make of it. I also didn't know why my mum was being so disdainful. What I did know, however, that Iris and With or Without You got throughly raped by "couples". It has been ingrained into my memory forever.
Anyhoo, so on to disasterous V days. Oh, from where do I start the tale of my misfortunes. Three crappy V days in a row. All because of the same idiot. The things we do, and regret, in life. I don't see how I could let a sexist moron playing tonsil hockey with someone else on Valentine's while calling me his "girlfriend" ruin it for me. Honestly. My judgements in the past are beyond my comprehension now. Rewind, and kick me.
So anyway, this Valentine's day, no issues whatsoever. And a plan for immense fun. Thwarted by my friend telling me that during our time in Lyceum, the wretched day of love falls on Saturday this year, and Sunday the next. Which made me very, very sad, and I missed the balloons from my birthday because they were pretty and made me happy. So I don't get to see V day nonsense at Lyceum. Dayem=(
No matter. I will collect my posse of single friends, and go over to, *drumrolls* PARK TOWERS. I'm sure we'll find plenty to point and laugh at. Otherwise, keep the balloons ready.
So we were doing imperialism in class today, and our teacher couldn't write on the board. So she asked DS, who got a 23% on his history midterm, and who, for reasons unknown is taking history and making an attempt at continuing his education, to write. Her reasoning was "At least aisay tou parhlay ga".
Therefore, much hilarity ensued. DS seems to be more than partially dyslexic, and his spelling abilities were amazing. He had to have "Henry" spelt out for him. After looking around stupidly, because he couldn't keep up or comprehend, DS finally resumed writing. Teacher said "Henry Morton Stanley acted as an agent for the Exploration and Civilization of Africa. Civilisation with a capital C" DS wrote: Henry Mortan Stanlee agent for Capital civilisation of Africa. That was the point when history teacher gave up, and told one of the more intellectually capable members of the class to write on the board.
You've got to see it to believe the idiots we have in school. It's seems impossible.
BEST birthday I've had in YEARS. In fact, best birthday since I became a teenager. I attribute it to the presence of awesome friends, and a lack of boyfriends which = perfect recipe for a non-disasterous scene. Boyfriends are lethal. Really. How I've wasted my previous birthdays crying over someone who was, frankly, not worth it. Maybe I am finally growing up, and as Zh said it may just be the *beggining of the better years of life*. Let's hope so.
Went to school in the morning after a fortnight. Had my friends running at me squealing and hugging me. Got Andy the stuffed turtle to err...*make out* with me. And no, it was not something I chose to do. It was PR and her insanity. Anyhoo. Then Asad K turned up with my balloons, and I was so happy. Silver, pink and blue ones. And those were tied to my bag and I roamed around like that for the rest of the day, with random people wishing me happy birthday. I even got to skip a history test haha.
And then, I got home. And Ataka and Mario turned up with cake and Moti the turtle, and we had a mini party with much laughing. <3
So it wasn't my 18th birthday bash, but for someone who's had 5 years of miserable birthdays, it was more than I could've asked for. =)
So I've been really ill, and yesterday I thought I was going to die. Hence, I was taken to the hospital and given one of those drip thingies ( And I HATE needles). Anyhoo, after that was done, I came back and spent about...well the whole day and the whole night in bed. Today, I have to go for a blood tests and God knows how much I hate THOSE things. Last time I got one, that idiotic man couldn't find my vein and kept on jabbing the needle into my arm and let me tell you, it was not pleasant. The doctors are making all sorts of nice predictions. One says it could be jaundice. Another says it could be typhoid. And another one says it could be malaria.
I've learnt that, it pays to save funny bits from MSN conversations that you've had. Or Facebook chats. It can make your day. Some examples:
Me: Dude, no one messages me. I should like frandship people and be like "HERE HAVE MY NUMBER PLEASE MUJHE MESSAGE KARNA". I think I might just be that sad one of these days...
Meh Meh: You know...this chick did that to me in the washroom of a restaurant.. I was like =S=S=S=S
Me: Or maybe not........ ****** From Ataka and my conversations:
Sanaa~ says: *tries to ignore the fact that she is the BLACK hugger* Sanaa~ says: i am not a racist. Sanaa~ says: *mutters* Bring the coffee, toffee. says: msn is Sanaa~ says: yes exactly Sanaa~ says: i mean Sanaa~ says: we cant go Sanaa~ says: *two of the green msn hug smileys* Sanaa~ says: HAHAHA THAT Sanaa~ says: LOOKS LIKE A PAIR OF IDENTICAL TWINS ABOUT TO HAVE BUTTSEX Sanaa~ says: HAHAHAHAHAAAHAHAHAHAHA Bring the coffee, toffee. says: HAHAHAHAHA
Aisha i watched the last king of scotland on star movies and loved it so i bought it
Aisha and i put it on for my thirteen year old cousin and DUDE star movies had censored out the sex parts and I didn't even know that!:O:O
After I put this on my quotes:
i must have said much better things worthy of facebook
Mani says: why you speak like asian person with no articles in sentence? Mani says: geh. Sanaa~ says: because we asian people who not know about articles in sentencing. Mani says: you shithead. go school. learn something. use articles in sentence. Sanaa~ says: no thenks. i'm kh3wlz. and asian. yeah huh.
And a batchmate:
Farouk u no smoking is more disgusting than anything else u shud stop
Sanaa hahah why
Farouk becaus u get lun cancerr
Sanaa LUN CANCER? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA