There are few things in life that I find amazing. Ok, that’s not exactly true but there are a few things I will take time to write about, so you should know that what you are about to read is important. Life changing, actually. Take a minute, prepare yourself mentally. You are about to embark on a trip to absolute awesomeness that will have you asking for your long forgotten Teddy bear, Mr. Cuddles. 

Have you ever had a Mango? 

If not, you may be the saddest, most pitifull human being I have ever had the displeasure of encountering. Let me explain to you what happened, Mango-virgin. The other day, my grandmother decided that if I was going to live alone next year I needed to learn how to grocery shop. Sulking and utterly miserable, I followed my grandma’s orders into what I was sure would be the equivalent of Acid Reflux. Boy, was I wrong. Don’t get me wrong, at first things were pretty bad, the ripeness of a watermelon is just not that interesting, but when I saw them everything changed. They were sitting along on a shelf untouched and out of season, but they drew me to them like those super annoying strong magnets that you can never separate. After staring like a lovesick idiot for ten minutes, I snatched one and carefully and lovingly placed it in our basket. Being out of season, that one Mango cost me three and half bucks. I got a lot of shit for buying that amazing Mango. My grandma yelled at me, my mom told me I was crazy more than once, my brother couldn’t comprehend how I spent that much money on something so useless, my cousin shook their heads incredulously. You see, they didn’t understand, they were wrong and in the end I won. Because while eating that stunning, delectable, awe-inspiring mango, they all sat staring from across the room.

I’m sure that if the Greek gods were real, they would binge on Mangos. Probably Hades mostly, because he’s sex on a cracker.

While eating my Mango, I came across an extraordinary band. Ok, so I wasn’t eating the Mango but I was definitely thinking about it, which has to be a sign of some sort. You Me at Six, is a British (Love British Music!) Band, I think. I haven’t actually read a lot about them but have listened to some of their work. So far I am captivated. The lyrics, the yelling, the drummer, all of it has me under a spell. Watching Josh Franceschi, the lead singer, a preppy looking boy, scream his head off had me awestruck. Dan Flint, the sexy drummer, is, well, sexy. Incredibly sexy. Max Helyer is the resident cutie and Chris Miller the all-around punk/emo dude. Leaving Matt Barnes, who at first made no impression on me, but after watching, became my favorite. He’s definitely the hottest. The band members were what made me pursue their songs. It wasn’t: one song led to another. It was like once I got over one member I moved on to the next, finding songs on the way. Some of the songs I’ve been listening to nonstop are: Bite my Tongue, Loverboy, Finders Keepers, Underdog, Stay With Me, and No One Does it Better.

Poseidon himself, a man with great taste, I presume, probably blasts these guys to the Cyclopes all the time.

Right now, my perfect day consist of sitting around listening to You Me at Six and eating a Mango. You could probably get me to murder with the promise of those two.

Think Mangoes suck? Know any other great bands? Want me to murder your best friend? Let me know. Although if you think mangoes suck, you probably suck.

Final is nice word, albeit depressing at times, but it has so many forms that it intrigues me. It can be used to express the end of something, whether that be a conversation or a relationship, the relief of having a frustrating situation be over, and is the name of the atrocious end of term exams. 

My finals are next week, and it would be extreme injustice for me to say that I am sad, because sad doesn’t even begin to cover it. Whoever decided that making students take a bunch of test at the end of a term was a good way to assess knowledge was terribly misguided. Did they not consider the fact that a girl could be suffering from the effects of eve’s cures? Did they not realize that the stress of the situation could cause a person to completely fail? Honestly, I don’t even know why they have become such a staple in our education systems. I understand that schools want to test their students’ knowledge. I mean I’m not one of those hippies that don’t believe in grades, however when it comes to cramming countless exams into such a short period of time I have to disagree with the education system.

This week as I said goodbye to my dear cousins, two boys who have grown into respectable men in the blink of an eye, I realized that life isn’t all that nice. My cousins would have never had to go to another country if their financial situation wasn’t as bad as it was. I wouldn’t have to be wondering if how many years it will be until I see them again, if they had better jobs. The sad this is, as the end of my high school nears, those two boys were one of the only people I wanted at my graduation and now that is a distant dream. They were the ones who picked me up from boarding school when I couldn’t take the depression anymore, they were the guys who kept me and my cousin Tam out all night every night last summer, they were the ones who were with me when my mother gave birth last year. I danced with them in the middle of the street to a Backstreet boy song, I made them food just so I could hear them call me lazy, I loved them just as I loved my brother. I don’t know how long it will be till I see them again, they don’t plan on coming back till winter and I go off to college in the fall but everything seems so final. And, frankly, the word Final is just so, well, final.

Finally, the happiest of the three, in my opinion. I have been counting the days, the hours, and the seconds till this day. I have been searching and wondering when I will find them, and, finally, I have found them. The perfect shoulders. Sigh. Frankly, I don’t know how I lived my whole life without seeing them. It was an accident that I found them, as most things are. You see there is a boy at my school who I find absolutely gorgeous. I’ve never talked to him, and never really had the urge to. I’m ok with staring. However, my problem was that I was only staring at a few parts of him and ignoring others. His hair dominated my daydreams during school meetings, his smile made me dizzy, and his ass drove me crazy. I didn’t realize that his shoulders were perfect to! I didn’t think it was possible for a teenage boy to have such broad, sexy shoulders! Man what I wouldn’t do to just touch them. 

Let me know how your week is going? Have you found the perfect shoulders? Do you have Finals?

Her Hair is blue and she has an orange! This is history!

Older people will go on and on about how amazing their senior year was. My parents will talk for hours on end about their days in high school. My mother reminiscing about how my father made fun of her colorful outfit, and then got her number from one her cousins two days later, claiming “I can’t stop thinking about her and all those colors”. My dad will laugh over and over about the time he “Stabbed a snobby SOB right above the right eyebrow with a dull fork” for hitting on my mom. At family gatherings, my uncle blushes like a teenage girl at a Beirber concert when my grandma tells the story of how he used to play love songs over his huge speakers. You never hear the story of how my aunt almost flunked out. Or how my uncle got thrown into prison for six years because of drugs. You never hear about how hard things are going to be. People never prepare you. 

Well thanks a lot, a lot of good your stories did me.

In the last week a few of my friends have been having physical, emotional, and mental breakdowns. I can’t say that I’m not on that path. With all my work piling up, colleges emailing for missing requirements, and my parents seemingly holding me back from life, my body seems to be rejecting the stress I’m causing it. Not sleep, not hot chocolate, and not staring at hot man’s backside makes me feel any better. I feel lost. I feel like at this point, my life is heading in a direction I’m not sure I choose. A direction I’m not sure I want. Lately the question I keep asking is: How did I get here?  How in the name of everything I hold dear did I end up in a snobby school, filled with snobby people, and teachers who believe more homework equals a better education? How did I end up doing every single bloody thing that the fifth grade me promised not to do? When did I lose sight of what’s really important in life?

The pressure I’ve been feeling is not simply from the very twisted and disappointing outside world but also from myself. I pressure myself to be exactly what my parents want, and then what my teachers think is best, and then what my friends are looking for in a friend. Lastly, and usually, unfortunately, least importantly, I try to be the person my fifth grade self will be proud of. I seem to be failing at that. 

The pleasure mentioned in the title is so minor that for a millisecond I considered not discussing it. However, when your life resembles a hairy, wrinkly, saggy, male ball sack, even the simplest pleasure makes a difference. This week my baby sister said my name for the first time. She has mumbled it a few times, saying the first letters or whatever, but never fully. Never until a few days ago. This time she said it fully, gracefully making my unattractive name sound like the most beautiful combination of letters in the world. The ball sack has a little bit of light shining though (gross but true nonetheless). Maybe life is worth fighting though if things like this are the result. Ball sacks can be attractive sometimes. 

Some people think that all mainstream music is corrupt, they think in order for music to be cool it has to be about evil spirits, ghosts, or penguins. Don’t get me wrong, I like indie just as much as the next Arab-Muslim who listens to music about pig sex, but sometimes indie is just creepy. At times, one needs to stop thinking (That’s for you Sims :D) and listen to something completely pointless and shallow. 

I really hope Dappy never reads this (unlikely given the fact that I have one follower! Shout out to my follower!) because I plan on marrying him, but N-dubz is probably only good because they are so bad. Some of their songs, for example Ouch, would be horrible if anyone else were to preform them. However, N-dubz has a certain charm to them. Maybe it’s the connections they share (cousins, best friends, and sex partners.), perhaps it’s the pure joy that is conveyed through the music, or the fact that this group doesn’t care. They play music for three things: Money, Money, and Fun. Every time they sing it’s like they’re giving the finger to the world and the industry. Saying they don’t care what anyone thinks as long as they get money they are going to sing what they want. Of course some songs they have, like Morning Star and Nana, are incredible lyrically. Songs like, I swear and I need you entice the dancing side of every human, so that needs to be acknowledged. Much love Fazer and Dappy for making music that everyone can enjoy! And Tulisa too, but less so for you.

Now don’t go getting ideas and whatnot, but I like the Emo corner, or at least the concept. I don’t like the cutting yourself aspect of it, but the isolation is alluring. Sometimes dealing with all the shallow, inconsiderate, unhappy people in life makes you need a second to yourself. People pride themselves on how many friends they have, or how many hellos they get in the hallway but sometimes being alone is nice. It gives you time to think. Time to breathe. In the words of my best friend, Sims, “Isolation is sometimes heavenly.”

You try being alone after a long day, maybe listen to some N-dubz, and let me know what you think. :)