Things I did in lieu of what I should have done.

later is better for meOf my life, this is the story.

My main goals tonight were to clean, edit, and write a cover letter or two.

What hindered me: There’s an ENTIRE day left of the weekend, called Sunday. (Hello, Sunday! Here so soon vhy?)

What I did:

  1. Took a shower
  2. Perused Facebook while my hair dripped
  3. Decided it would be a great idea to dry my hair and clothe myself
  4. Made coffee.
  5. Debated between soy or almond milk
  6. On a flight of fancy ran to the computer to Google “should men drink soy” even though I am not a man
  7. Prayed *only fistpump of the night*
  8. Whipped up a soy latte with honey, ostensibly as motivation to clean
  9. Drank soy latte whilst browsing Amazon
  10. On a whim added bellydance skirt, jump rope, fitness journal, Tend Skin, skin brush and exfoliating body scrub to cart
  11. Attempted to check out
  12. Old card information prevented successful checkout
  13. Deleted items from cart whilst convincing myself I absolutely did not need any of the above-mentioned items
  14. Straightened my hair
  15. Attempted a side hair parting
  16. A middle hair parting
  17. Hello ponytail
  18. Engaged in slacktivism by sharing Treyvon Martin and Shaima Alawadi hate crime Youtube links and memes
  19. Hung up one shirt
  20. Threw away an empty container of face wipes
  21. Hung up one hijab
  22. Shared a funny cartoon on a friend’s Facebook wall
  23. Wrote a blog entry
  24. Wished for another lightning storm and internet outage

No freakin’ way.

Happy yyyyyyyyy New Year! A little late yes, and my Y key is stuck, but better late than never, right?

I’ve a rough cut to turn in tomorrow and less than half the footage I want is actually on tape and not just in my head. I’m not as skinny as Stana Katic yet and even though I know that is pretty unattractive in real life I’m still in denial that being a size 0, 1, 2 or 3 is the key to happiness and if I could just stop needing food to be alive I’d be so much more happier.

I was a lot skinnier when we didn’t live in the ghetto. About a week ago after my night class I arrived home to see a helicopter hovering over the apartment complex next door with a searchlight scouring the area. As I pulled out the tripod I had checked out from the film equipment room encased in an outwardly suspicious looking oblong black canvas case the roar of whirring helicopter rotors grew louder and I felt the spotlight fall squarely on me. Oh, shit, I thought. A “Moslem” holding an AK-47. 

Thankfully, the pilot was a fan of NPR and not Limbaugh, so the spotlight veered off me in search of more criminally greener pastures.

I used to work out a lot more when there were not punk men lounging on their salvaged couches outside at all hours of the day and night following me with their eyes. Get a job punks. One guy even had the audacity to cross the street, approach me and tell me “you look like you’ve lost weight.” Vhat. Zhe. Hellz. I was even more taken aback when I found out from my mom that he occasionally cuts our grass.

Since we’ve been here

1) Our neighborhood went under lockdown when a SWAT team had to be called in because a neighbor’s kid had barricaded himself in the attic with a shotgun (I can still see a bullet hole when I walk past the house the few times I do workout in the neighborhood

2) Somebody got shot in the stomach

3) Somebody got shot, period.

It’s not all that bad all the time. But still…can’t wait to live somewhere else where there is peace, quiet and properly employed people.