I DON'T CARE FOR...Nail Salons: Why the Nerd Stops to Smile Even Before the Manicurist Pulls Out a File

I hate getting manicures and pedicures.

I can feel precious minutes that could be spent on more productive endeavors being clipped away and brushed aside like fingernails and toenails. The vapid women’s and celebrity gossip magazines that nail salons offer bore me until I’m squirming in my chair, eager to be free of base coats and buffer blocks, cuticle pushers and cutters, nail polish and fingerbaths. The most excruciating part of the entire ritual, however, comes after my nails have been perfectly filed and painted: drying the polish to a hard and long-lasting gloss. Yes, the drying process is even more agonizing than the pressure of having to choose one or two colors from the hundreds of polishes that salons offer as time-pressed manicurists look on impatiently. I never know how long to expose my finger- and toenails to the six minute drying cycle (fan-only followed by heat plus UV light followed by fan-only). So I end up sitting through four or five cycles, looking on embarrassedly as women who start the cycle after me breeze out before me.

It all leaves me extremely distraught.

EXHAUSTED, Part III

I could go for one of the following treatments right now (preferably the carrot & sesame body buff; sigh):

http://www.blissworld.com/spa/location/soho/spamenu/body/

EXHAUSTED, Part II

I'm bone-tired yet I can't fall asleep.
I don't even have the energy to write a haiku about insomnia.
Damn, that image is effed up.

EXHAUSTED

I'm exhausted and need a timeout.
Please talk amongst yourselves.

AN OPEN LETTER TO ANNOYING GYM GUY: EW

Dear Annoying Gym Guy:

You look like an idiot wearing your khaki shorts, Hawaiian shirts and white socks that barely cling to your calves to the gym of all places. You look like an even bigger idiot when you start bopping your head and playing air guitar on the elliptical machine. When you do this, I don't know what I hate more: you or that poor excuse for a cardio workout machine. Plus, you smell funny, like you don't wash your Hawaiian shirts or (shudder) those khaki shorts. Try to take care of that, please.

Sincerely,
The Nerd

JADE: Chapter 5

So, 10 year old SabilaK spent a lot of time setting up the story and introducing the characters in the first four chapters but, rest assured, the action (as well as the "spookiness"--young SabilaK's favorite word) begins in Chapter 5 of Jade.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

It was 11:50 and Zach and Todd were ready to leave. They had to go to Michael's room to get to the third floor (why?).

Todd followed Zach, singing a song to himself, loud enough to be heard in China (gosh, this is so 10 years old of me).

"Todd, will you shut up?" Zach whispered angrily to Todd.

"Don't blow up, cause I ain't gonna sing anymore," Todd said (Todd's so stoner chill; I really hope I don't kill him off).

They finally reached Michael's room and tiptoed upstairs (Michael's apparently living in a duplex). They reached the third floor to find Michael, Jim and Earnest.

"Hi guys," Zach greeted. "Where's Sean?"

"Sean is waiting for the girls from Lakewood and, oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, he's bringing Scott Johnson along," Mike said (it's apparent that I'm just throwing in random characters to be killed off by zombies at this point...like a zombie version of Dynasty Warriors, with the zombies killing large quantities of Kettleburg U students).

Suddenly, the five boys heard something.

"Let's hide," Zach ordered.

Everyone scrambled to hide somewhere.

They heard footsteps followed by a door opening.

"Guys, it's us. Sean and Scott," they heard Sean's nervous voice.

"I knew it was you guys all along," Mike said smartly, as he got up from behind a large box (punk).

"Sure you did," Zach said, plainly (clearly, the Nerd was a fan of the adverb back in the day) annoyed.

"Well, I brought Scott, the book, chips, beer, and girls (doesn't all of this sound like a Budweiser commercial?). There were six girls standing behind Sean and Scott. "Guys, this is Betty, Jessica, Mary, Karen, Wendy and Elizabeth (Jesus. I'm imagining the requisite big breasted women in demure cardigans and poodle skirts).

"Sean, why is it so dark? Aren't there going to be any lights?" Betty asked (I imagine her already clinging to Sean's arm).

"Sure Betty. We have a flashlight," Sean answered (what an asshole).

"Hey, let's pass out the beer," Mike suggested.

"I don't drink," Zach said as Mike came towards him with a beer (Mike should know better than to offer his childhood friend who happens to be a teetotaler a beer).

Mike didn't answer and just walked away (jerk knows he doesn't drink! He's gonna act all pissy and disappointed now. Shoo!). Zach could see he was angry.

"Sit down everyone. Sit down as I read from this book...ah...," Sean started, "...Jade, the Mystical Power." He turned on the flashlight and began to read. "Jade was a power used ten thousand years ago to communicate with the spirit world, the world of the dead. It was named after a peasant girl. Her name was Jade (...since Jade was such a popular name among peasant girls at the end of the Ice Age...).

"How did they communicate?" Scott asked.

"Let me see," Sean said, turning the pages. "Here we are. It says everyone has to sit in a circle. Now, join hands and repeat after me: Dono apros aloo shanpar."

"Dono apros aloo shanpar," everyone repeated.

"Donts, carpon, lartusee, menk, sha--" the flashlight went out before Sean could finish (spoooooky). "There's something wrong with this thing," he complained.

Suddenly, a draft blew through the room.

"Ah, listen guys, we have to go and er...ah, study," Mary said nervously and before the guys could say anything, the girls quickly got up and left (I was so wrong about the floozies from Lakewood. They're not floozies at all. They may just be the most intelligent token big-breasted girls--if not the most intelligent characters, period--in a scary movie/story/novel. I was very obviously a feminist at 10).

All of the boys, except for Zach, started shouting at each other, arguing (about what exactly?). Zach sat back and stared at them innocently.

Michael turned around and looked at Zach. "I don't drink. Just give me milk in a bottle," he said, imitating Zach (seriously Mike, you punk, freakin' get over it already).

"Come on you guys, let's get back to our rooms, cause it's not anyone's fault those girls left. It's their fault. They don't know how to have any fun," Sean said.

"Yeah! That's right. It's THEIR fault," Mike said like a little boy (more like a despicable git).

They all returned to their dorm rooms and went to sleep.

(Okay, so there really wasn't any action in this chapter, after all...but I promise it's coming!)

*End of Chapter 5

Stalker Nerd??!

*A few years ago:

At the insistence of her only Pakistani friend, our Nerd grudgingly signs up to join Naseeb.com, an online social network very much like Friendster and MySpace, but geared to young Muslims, looking for the same things as everyone else: friends and activity partners/soulmmates/etc, etc. She doesn't immediately upload pics or thoroughly describe herself in the section labeled "about me." However, she goes on once or twice a week to read her friend's original writing (Naseeb has a journal feature where members can write about whatever they please).

One day, while trolling around the site, our Nerd stumbles across the profile of a person, who shall remain unnamed, who did her wrong a few weeks earlier (sure, he wasn't right for her and sure she wasn't really that into him to begin with but, oh, the mortification of being beat to the "you aren't right for me" and "I'm not so into you" email was…well, it was mortifying). So, she becomes slightly obsessed with said person's profile on the site and calls her colleagues over so that they too can see the mug of the person who has done our Nerd wrong (or right, depending on how you look at it). Over the next couple of (ahem, several) days, she carefully studies person's profile, reads person's journal entries and canvasses person's friend's profiles.

Not too long thereafter, our Nerd has dinner with her Pakistani friend and proceeds to tell him about person-who-wasn't-right-for-her's profile on Naseeb and her mild but shortlived obsession with it.

Pakistani friend sits across the table from our Nerd, butter knife frozen over roll. "But you're not a paying member," he states.

"Ah, duh. The day I pay for that shit," she laughs.

Friend puts down knife and then puts down roll. Placing his hands on table, he leans forward in his chair. "You do realize that each and every time you visited his profile, your profile popped up in his "Who is Viewing Your Profile?" window.

The Nerd finishes chewing her roll and then very calmly asks, "And when you say each and every time, surely you don't mean each and every time."

"Oh no," Friend says, still sitting back, his eyes circles of shock now. "I mean EACH and EVERY time. And your screenname…"

She looks at him, hovering somewhere between laughter and tears.

You see, her screenname on the site is SabilaK.

Our Nerd laughs. Friend laughs.

The following day, our Nerd chooses to "pay for that shit" and become an official member of that site (with ability to invisibly browse profiles…ahem).

MOMMY, I HATE YOU

Clearly, my future offspring are screwed:

article

JADE: Chapter 4

The Nerd's 17 year old story continues with chapter 4...

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 4

Mike entered his dorm room. "Hey Jim," he called out to his roommate, Jim Dawson.

"Yes, Mike?" Jim asked in a low voice.

"Do you want to come with us to the third floor at midnight tonight?" Mike asked. "Sean is going to bring some girls from Lakewood and we are going to read a spooky book."

"I don't know Mike..." Jim said.

(C'mon Mike, pull the Nick card, pull the Nick card!) "Jim, you HAVE to come tonight, OKAY?" Mike said.

"Well, all right," Jim answered (wow, that didn't take much convincing. Clearly, Jim is a wuss).

Jim's family was in the construction business. Even though he was filthy rich, Jim didn't brag about his fortunes (a filthy rich wuss then. Apparently, one has to be a multi-millionaire to attend Kettleburg University, the all-boy's prep college. Where are the scholarship students, dammit?).

"What time do we hav to go?" Jim asked (someone needs to tell Jim that he doesn't HAVE to do anything. What a sad sack).

"Twelve midnight," Mike answered.

"Who's going to be there?"

"Sean, Todd, Zach, you, me and five or six girls."

"Can I ask Earnest to come too?" Jim asked (Jim is becoming lankier and more acne-ridden as I continue reading this chapter).

"Sure Jim," Mike answered.

Jim quickly dialed Earnest Pokamen's number. Earnest was Jim's best friend and a nerd like Jim. With his thick glasses and ugly clothes no one could believe that Earnest was the youngest son of Dan Pokamen, the owner of a chain of health clubs, who also had a perfect built (WHY is everyone a bloody millionaire???)!

"Earnest said he will come too," Jim said after haning up the phone.

"That's fine Jim," Mike said (since when has Mike been a man of such few words? He probably thinks he's too good for Jim. Jerk).

"You have to help me pick out my clothes for tonight," Jim continued (how Queer Eye for the Geek Guy).

***************

Sean Robinson called up the last girl on his list, Betty (but is anyone called Betty anymore; like Bruce, it's a dead name), who said she would be glad to meet up if she could bring two of her friends with her. There were a total of six girls coming.

Finally he asked his roommate Scott Johnson if he would like to come along.

"Sure thing," Scott said (wow, the third floor spells P-A-R-T-Y for these sad losers).

Sean looked at his watch. It was 8:00 PM, exactly four hours to go to the third floor.

*end of chapter 4

WHAT ABOUT SabilaK?

One of my brothers' closest friends, who is also a great friend of the family, is getting married in the winter. My brothers are groomsmen in the wedding. Sabahat received a plus one invitation, as did Shafaat. My parents received a seperate invitation addressed to both Mr. and Mrs. K.

It's all a great family affair, right?

Well, what about the SabilaK? What about our nerd? Is she invited to the wedding? If so, does she have to go as one of her brother's "plus ones" (a slightly humiliating prospect)? If not, is it assumed that she's the third wheel that will tag along with the Mr. and Mrs. (an even more humiliating prospect)? And what if her brothers have "plus ones" of their own to take to the shindig? What then?

Hell, what if the nerd has her own plus one? Is it that unbelieveable that she might have her own plus one by December?

I suspect she may boycott the wedding.

THE NERD DOES SORBET

I made a mean sugar-free apple blueberry sorbet last weekend (pictured above) only to leave it in my brother’s freezer and totally forget about it. When I dropped by his place this morning he asked me when I planned on eating the sorbet and we removed the ice cream maker from the freezer to find that the surely delectable dessert was rock solid. I carried the bucket home and then spent a very long time scraping the sorbet out into bowls for my parents. After using several utensils to scrape the sorbet (a fork, a teaspoon, a tablespoon, a large plastic fork, a knife), I found the tablespoon to be the most efficient scraper. Even so, the entire process required me to walk away, wave and stretch my arms (I’ll tell you one thing…scraping rock solid sorbet hurts as much as any of my more challenging bicep routines), and read a few pages of a manuscript I need to get through by Monday before I could start the scraping all over again.

It was a pain in the ass.

My parents enjoyed the sorbet (or whatever the hell it ended up becoming) very much.

I’m never making sorbet again.

JADE: Chapter 3

During a rather lackluster week, my zombie thriller has provided great entertainment. While it inspires laughter now, I remember how serious I was about this story all those years ago, spending hours writing in bed at night, a pen gripped solemnly in my hand and the words written so fiercely that they almost bleed through the page. I loved this story then and, the truth of the matter is, that I still love it now (as much as I’ve slammed it in my previous posts). If nothing else, it shows that I had imagination.

So, here’s chapter 3 of “Jade” and because I'm feeling nostalgic and emotional, I'm not going to include any parenthetical comments. You can do that on your own.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

The bell finally rang. Psychology class was finally over. Zach got up from his desk and walked to the door.

Mr. Ross was talking about family problems and all that crap. It was just plain and simple boring boring boring. Zach wanted to just doze off when he got back to his room. Who knows, if he was tired enough he would sleep from 5:00PM to 6:00AM. He’d done that before.

Someone called Zach’s name from behind him. He turned around and saw Michael waving for him to come over.

“Zach, I have some news to tell you,” Mike said in an excited voice. “You want to come to the third floor with some of the guys?”

“Mike, the third floor is closed. No one’s allowed to go up there, not even the teachers,” Zach said.

“But this is going to be great,” Mike said nervously, afraid that Zach wouldn’t join them. “Sean is going to bring some chicks from Lakewood, you know what I mean? Sneak them in or something.”

“No way am I going to be a part of this. If we get caught, Dean Norwood is going to kick our asses. Anyway, I’m too bushed. I’m going to my room to get some sleep,” Zach said.

“Listen, I know you’re not a party animals but there’s always a first time,” Mike said. “You think sleeping is better than going to the third floor with chicks and reading a spooky book. You know what else? There are no lights on the third floor. We’re only going to have a flashlight. So, please Zach, come with us. Please, please, please,” Mike nagged like a child.

“No,” Zach said with a firm shake of his head.

“I bet if Nick was still alive, he would have come along,” Mike said sadly.
Zach knew that Mike had won again. Whenever he mentioned Nick, Zack would do whatever Mike begged for. After a long moment of silence, Zach nodded and said, “Okay,” so softly that he could hardly be heard.

But Mike’s ears were wide open, wide enough to hear Zach’s answer. “Yeeeeees!” Mike shouted. “Thanks bro,” he said with a smile. “Meet me on the third floor at 12 o’clock sharp.”

With a quick nod, Zach turned around and walked to his dorm room in the other building.

When he got to his room, he lay down on his bed and closed his eyes but opened them again in shock. Someone had turned on banging music on the stereo. His eyes fell on Todd, who was listening and singing along. Zach’s roommate was the wild type. Always going out on dates and driving fast cars, Todd was almost impossible to stand.

“Todd, turn the music down. I’m really tired,” Zach shouted over the pounding.

“Okay man, I’m turning it off,” Todd said flatly.

The son of the owner of the Chicago Art Museum, Todd Matthews wasn’t at all sophisticated. He just listened to music and didn’t pay attention to school at all!

“Hey Zach, are you going to the third floor tonight?” Todd asked.

“Yes, Todd. I am going to the third floor tonight,” Zach answered in a tired voice.

“Well, so am I!” Todd said eagerly. “It’s going to be awesome.”

Zach got up. He wouldn’t be able to get any sleep with Todd talking so much. “Todd,” Zach said, “I’m going to take a shower. You can play your music as loud as you wish. But when I get out, that stereo should be turned off. All right?”

“Sure man,” Todd answered as he turned his music on.

JADE: The Second Chapter of a Zombie Thriller Written by Our Nerd at 10 Years Old

Wow. I have nothing to say except that this story sucks. Just remember that I was 10 when I wrote this, the second chapter of “Jade,” a zombie thriller unlike anything that you’ll ever read (well, for your sake, I hope it’s unlike anything you’ll ever read). Again, I’m including my own parenthetical, present day comments.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Sean Robinson walked into the library. He sat in his usual spot, at a table towards the back, thinking of what kind of book he wanted to read on that day. Not being able to decide, he walked to a shelf and pulled out the first book his hand fell on. This one had a raggedy cover. He pulled it out, curious, and was surprised by a tap on the shoulder. He turned around to find Mike Edwards. A twinge (good word for a 10 year old to know) of sadness hit him when he saw his best friend’s little brother (gosh. Mike sure does depress the hell out of everyone, which blows pretty badly since he seems to be such a happy go lucky guy, not at all hung up over Nick’s death). If Nick was still alive, he would have been a senior like Sean.

Mike was the spitting image of his brother. Sean knew that he was responsible for Nick’s death and could never get over the guilt (Sean: suicide is an option. Why do I feel like Sean will be the first casualty in this zombie thriller?). He was supposed to be his best friend’s ride home from the dance that night. But Sean was hurt about breaking up with his girlfriend (this is back when these prep college students were actually into girls. The homosexual undertones in this story are ridiculous), so he left early, forgetting all about Nick (what a bastard).

Everyone Nick knew had already left the dance. Nick was left with one choice and that was to hitchhike home (really? Was that really the only option? What would a smart, rich kid be doing hitching home anyway?). A drunk man in a station wagon picked up Nick. His car ended up crashing into a truck. The impact caused Nick to fly out of the car. The drunk man suffered only from a broken foot.

If only Nick didn’t have to hitchhike home that night…(damn straight. It’s ALL your fault, Sean, you murderer!).

Sean was distracted from his thoughts by Michael, who was making strange faces at him (Mike seems obnoxious).

“Earth to Sean?” Mike asked. “Sean, are you all right?”

“Oh yeah,” Sean answered, “just thinking.”

“I knew that,” Mike said with a smart look (what a prick. Nick would’ve probably hated his guts had he been alive). “Hey, that’s a raggedy (raggedy seems to be one of younger SabilaK’s favorite adjectives) old book you have there.”

“This actually sounds interesting. It’s called Jade, the Mystical Power (ahem).”

“This Jade sounds like one hot chick,” Michael said, whistling softly (I repeat: what a prick).

“Shhhhhh,” the librarian warned (bet the librarian is a dude too. Kettleburg University seems to be devoid of females. Interesting... )

“Jade isn’t a girl,” Sean explained as he skimmed through the book. “Jade is a power that was first used by a girl. According to this book, it was a force used in the old days to communicate with the spirit world.”

“Hey, hold it right there,” Mike said, raising his hands in the air. “Is that book spooky? (I want to kick Mike’s ass so badly. What an asshole).

“Well it does talk about the spirit world and all that crap (wow, I was such an eloquent writer back in the day),” Sean pointed out as he ran his hand through his brown hair.

“Well, I don’t want to hear about it right now. Why don’t you call all the guys to the old room on the third floor at midnight and we’ll take turns reading it (and then we’ll make out),” Michael said.

“Hey, that’s a good idea (it always starts with something that sounds like a good idea in zombie thrillers…). And maybe we can sneak some of the girls from Lakewood University in (This doesn’t mean that the guys aren’t gay. I’m guessing the girls from Lakewood are just the requisite big-breasted sluts in low-budget horror flicks). I hope the dean changes his mind about the “no girls in college” rule (well, it IS an all-boy’s prep college after all, Sean; this explains why even the librarian is probably a male),” Sean said sadly.

“Okay. You could call up five or six girls (it’s obvious that Mike’s isn’t happy about having girls over: he’s limiting the number PLUS he’s having Sean make the calls. What part of “guys” didn’t Sean understand? Gosh!) We’ll meet on the third floor at 12 sharp,” Mike said with a wicked smile.

“You’re on,” Sean said.

If only Nick was here, he thought again, watching Mike walk away (clearly Sean was more than a little in love with Nick)…

*End of chapter 2

JADE: The First Chapter of a Not-Very-Good Zombie Story from the Nerd's Childhood

After finding the undelivered letter to my cousin, posted below, I’ve become a bit obsessed with my old correspondences, notebooks, book reports, diaries, anything. I was looking through a box of old notebooks when I found one on the verge of disintegration. In it is a story called “Jade,” that I wrote when I was around 10 or 11 years old (additionally, on what’s left of the cover of the spiral bound notebook, I’ve drawn a pair of giant hearts that are linked together by a smaller heart. In the giant hearts, I’ve written in careful cursive letters “Christian Slater” and “Sabila K.”). The story, which I suspect is unfinished, consists of seven (not very good) chapters.

And now, for your reading (dis)pleasure, I present to you the first chapter of the zombie thriller “Jade”! I’ll try to keep my present-day parenthetical comments to a minimum.

Summary:
A group of college students from Kettleburg University, an all boys prep college (what exactly is an all boys prep college?), find a way to communicate with the dead. Now the college doors are locked by a supernatural power, the phone lines are dead because of the hurricane that is raging outside and a terror caused by the mystical power of Jade is taking over.

Story:

Zach (because all cute boys back in the day seemed to be called Zach) Thompson, a junior at Kettleburg University was sitting outside campus (outside campus? What’s that?) and enjoying the autumn leaves that were on the ground around him.

Zach was a good looking blonde and had no trouble making friends. First of all, his family was one of the riches in all of NY and he was also one of the smartest guys at Kettleburg, which was located in Southern California (a hurricane in SoCal?). He wasn’t the snobby type, like some of his friends. He liked small towns instead of big cities. He enjoyed the country air instead of noisy streets and he liked trees instead of tall skyscrapers. He was a little old fashioned, but that was his style.

“Hi Mike,” Zach said as he saw his friendly but snobby friend.

A twinkle appeared in Michael Edwards’ green eyes when he heard Zach greet him.

“Hey Zach, how’s it going?” Mike asked with a childish look on his face (huh?) that made him look more like a high school freshman than a college freshman

Zach had always been like a big brother to Mike. They had grown up together despite the age difference. Ever since Michael’s older brother Nick died in a car crash, Zach had always stayed with him like Nick used to. Plus, Zach’s father, David Thompson, and Mike’s father, Marshall Edwards, were good friends and business partners.

Michael was spoiled by his family. He got everything he asked for. Ever since Nick died, he got more attention than ever. He usually caused trouble but was never struck by trouble itself (damn, that’s deep).

He always wanted to do with Zach did. Mike got into Harvard and Princeton but came to Kettleburg because Zach went to school there (how Felicity of him). He shopped at the same stores Zach shopped, got the same hair style that Zach had, and said everything that Zach said (how very single white female of him). It was a pain to Zach but he was used to his friend.

“Okay,” Zach responded to Mike’s question.

“Working hard as usual, Mr. Brain?” Mike asked as he pulled out a pocket-sized mirror and started to comb his black hair.

“Hey, look who’s talking. I wasn’t 15 points away from a perfect score on the SATs.”

“Well, excuse me,” Mike said with a funny look on his face. “I can’t help it if I’m smart, okay.”

“Har, har, har,” Zach joked. He looked at his watch and suddenly stood up. “Hey, I’m late for Psychology. Catch you later or Mr. Ross is going to blow a fuse.” He cursed at himself silently for being late as he ran towards the building, leaving Mike staring at him in disbelief (what’s so unbelievable about this anyway?).

Zach entered his psychology class right on time. As he took his place, he looked around at the small classroom. It was the same boys in the same building, and the same balding teacher. And then he realized that he would have to sit through the same 30 minutes of boring lectures.

*End of chapter 1. I’ll post the second chapter up tomorrow.

THE NERD'S UNDELIVERED LETTER TO HER COUSIN, circa 1992

*The Nerd in Jr. High

I was digging through some of my old folders when I found a letter that I’d written to my cousin back in 1992. Back in the day, I was famous for writing long, detailed letters that I never mailed out. This one was meant to go to my cousin F, who was living in Pakistan at the time. I was 13 and, clearly, boy crazy. Read it and enjoy; I’ve included parenthetical comments:

6/13/92

Dear Pinky (that’s F’s nickname):

How are you?! Uncle Talat told me that you were waiting for my letter but I already sent one to you (yah, and by “I already sent one to you,” I actually meant that I’d written her a letter that was sitting in a sealed envelope somewhere in my room with no hopes of ever being mailed out)! It probably got lost in the mail, so I guess I’ll just write you a whole new letter!

I’m not sure if I’ve told you about this new series of books I’ve been reading called Sweet Dreams. I’ve only read the first two books in the series, Play Me a love Song and Backstage Romance. I’m keeping my eyes open for more Sweet Dreams. Guess what? I’m back into Sweet Valley High. I (insert a heart here) them. They really are the best! (Just for the record, I wasn’t only reading teeny bopper romances in elementary school. I started reading Stephen King in the 2nd grade—no joke—and was reading the classics. I swear. I don’t want this to tarnish my reputation)

Summer vacation started three days ago on the 10th. I got straight A’s on my report card and made first honors!

We went on four field trips this past year. We visited Newark Symphony Hall on the first field trip of the year. It was pretty boring because we had to listen to the orchestra play music and we saw Mr. Mezz, the 8th grade teacher sleeping! The second field trip was boring too because we went to Newark Symphony Hall again!!! But it was a little better than the first time (I wonder why it was better the second time around…).

Our third trip turned out to be a complete blast! We went to the New Jersey State Aquarium in Camden (Camden is a pretty scary town but Walt Whitman spent his final years there. We should’ve just visited his house. Sigh), which is south of Jersey City and very far away. It took us around two hours to get there but we had loads of fun on the bus (I remember that the sluttier girls were dancing and shaking their butts at passing vehicles). We saw so many different kinds of sharks and fish at the aquarium! Ilene’s mother, Mrs. Sosa, was the girls’ chaperone and she’s the coolest. Shazia, Roselle, Ilene, Irene, Rakhee, Rita, and Shafaq were in my group. When we were leaving the aquarium, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around to find a group of BOYS (so, I’m going to put in caps everything that is underlined and bolded in my letter, since Blogger won’t let me format as such online) who looked like they were around 15 or 16 years old. We just kept on walking but then one of the boys, who was VERY CUTE, asked me for my number (I don’t see how this is possible. Surely, someone as cute as a button like Shafaq or Irene was standing next to me, and this guy wanted her number and I only thought that he was asking for my number. If only you could see my pics from this period of my life, you’d understand. Perhaps I’ll post one up). My friends and I giggled and continued walking. When we got outside the aquarium, we discovered that our group was the first one to complete the tour and we had to wait for the others to get done. While we were waiting, someone pinched Roselle on her BEHIND!!! (Hahahahahahahahah! Oh man, I remember this. She was LIVID). She was VERY angry. Mrs Sosa blamed us for everything, saying that we’d been acting like flirts, which I guess is true. My friends and I are usually quiet by ourselves but when we get together we act crazy. When boys at the aquarium walked by us, we giggled and this encouraged them to talk to us (Gosh, I make us sound like sluts. We were anything but sluts). For example, while we were waiting outside for the others, this one boy went down the row with us, asking each one of us if he could sit on our lap (to be honest, I was sitting last in the row and he sort of skipped over me). Of course we all said no! But I can see how our giggling might have made him want talk to us (ah, dur).

Later, we ate lunch in a park next door to the aquarium. Shazia, Roselle and I were eating together and these two OLD police officers walked by us and we, being in crazy moods, offered them some potato chips. Pretty soon we were talking to them like they were old friends (this, in retrospect, is a little creepy. I wonder these middle-aged cops could possibly have to say to 13 year old girls). As you can see, our field trip to the aquarium was lots of fun.

While our final field trip wasn’t as good as the one to the aquarium, it was funny because of one incident. On this trip, the 6th and 7th grades walked to Liberty State Park (because Catholic schools are poor as shit). Once we got to the park, my friends Shazia, Roselle, Arshia, Rita and I were pretty bored, so our teacher, Ms. Sobers, took the five of us exploring. We walked, speed walked, and jogged around the park (I can only imagine how out of breath I must’ve been). We saw a replica of Henry Hudson’s ship, The Half Moon. We also jogged past this large barge and saw a very CUTE guy working inside the barge (I still remember what this dude looked like. He had a long scar that went from his left temple to the left side of his chin. He was handsome in spite of it). On our jog back, we discovered that the barge was actually a museum. Ms. Sobers asked the guy if admission was free (I suspect she was kicking it to him) and he said that it was but he had to drop something off somewhere and so, we’d have to wait for him to return before we could get in. He had the nerve to leave us standing there as he STROLLED away (doesn’t seem like Ms. Sobers’ kicking it to him was very effective). He was gone forever and, when he returned, he was licking a popsicle.

The first thing we saw when we entered the museum was a very large structure in the corner. It was very strange and looked like a giant slinky (for real. It was a contorted giant slinky). We asked popsicle guy if the structure symbolized something and he said “Nope.” We asked him if the metallic tubes attached to the top of the structure were chimes and he said “Nope.” We asked if the metallic tubes or the structure made sounds, if it was a musical instrument and he said “Nope” (seriously, what a bloody jackass). Finally, Ms. Sobers asked him if he was eating a popsicle. He smiled and said “Yes.” What an idiot (I’m glad that, even back in the day, I could recognize a jackass/idiot) And then he started asking us questions:

TOUR GUIDE who knows what a barge is?
We were quiet until Roselle said: a very big thing. (clearly, we were trying to be cheeky)
TG: What kind of a big thing? What does it do?
Sabila: It transports things.
TG: Right! What does it transport?
Rita: People?
TG: Would you like to be lying in a barge with 50,000 people? I don’t think so.
Sabila: Goods.
TG: Exactly. Now, what pulls a barge?
Shazia: A boat.
TG: What’s a boat?
Rita: A piece of wood that floats on the water (to Ms. Sober’s chagrin, we were all cracking up and playing along).
TG: (he explains what a boat is) So, what pulls a barge?
Roselle: Er…A boat?
TG: Do you really think that a regular little boat could pull a barge across the river to New York? I don’t think so.
Shazia: A speed boat?
TG: Um, no.
Rita: A tug boat?
TG: Exactly!

As you can see, we were acting very dumb and were cracking up the entire time. But I haven’t even told you about the funniest part of the day!

TG: Let’s go see the captain’s quarters. The captain’s quarters are where the captain sleeps during the voyage.

We followed him to an extremely small room. There was a very small bed crowded in the corner and popsicle guy sat down on it.

TG: What’s your name?

I thought that he was asking all of us, so I turned to Rita, who was first in line, expecting her to say her name first. But Rita didn’t say anything. When I turned around to look at the tour guide I saw that he was asking me.

TG: What’s YOUR name?

Sabila: Oh. Sabila.

TG: What a beautiful name. Come and sit next to me, Sabila.
He was patting the space next to him on the bed. I sat down next to him as he described how the captain and his entire family slept on that tiny little bed. The bed was hard and it hurt my behind. I saw Roselle cracking up, trying to make me crack up. I started to giggle and turned my face away from the guide towards the wall so that he couldn’t see that I was cracking up (if I remember correctly, we were all on the verge of dissolving into giggles for the duration of our time in the barge). I guess he noticed because the next thing he said was, “You can go back to your friends now if you’d like.”

It was a complete blast! Yo! It’s 1AM and I have to go to sleep. I guess this letter was all about field trips! Hope I didn’t bore you too much (ahem. I’m almost glad it didn’t make its way to her). I miss you and please write me an equally long letter!

Love ya (Love ya? Seriously?)
SABILA
XXXXXXX+OOOOOOO (I need a
barf bag)

PAKISTANDARDS: Pakistani Vegetarianism?

Our nerd holds a bowlful of cholay earlier this evening as her family chows down on a meat-heavy Pakistani dinner.

There is no such thing as Pakistani vegetarianism. There is only cholay (curried chickpeas). This dish has saved me from going hungry or pathetically nibbling on plain naan and salad at many Pakistani parties. There are times when I, craving variety and effort on the part of our host(s), find myself getting sick and tired of cholay, even hating the dish a little bit.

But that's wrong. Because cholay's been there for me...and I appreciate that.

Thank you cholay, for everything.

HEAVENLY BODIES: Endangererd Skies and the Nerd's Teeny-Bopper Summer Romance That Never Was

The dark and starry night is endangered and one of the world’s leading academic organizations studying light pollution has predicted that the last truly dark areas in the US will be gone by 2025. The National Park Service’s Night Sky Team, comprised of three people, travels from national park to national park, studying some of the darkest skies in the country, assessing light pollution and gathering data that might increase awareness of the problem (who really is aware of the problem? I, for one, was not before reading about it in this summer’s double issue of National Geographic Adventure) as well as help lobbyist push for better lighting laws.

Back in the summer before senior year of high school—yes, during those wonderful awkward days of our nerd’s life—I spent six weeks in Lawrenceville, New Jersey, in a summer program for smart kids. The highlight of the program was a weekend of canoeing and camping in the Pine Barrens. The highlight of the canoeing and camping weekend was the second night, when we decided to forgo our tents and, instead, slept under the night sky in our sleeping bags.

It was one of the most spectacular experiences of my life. The vast stretch of celestial sky seemed to go on forever all around me and I easily lost sense of where the heavens and the earth met. Hundreds of thousands of scintillating stars surrounded me, closer and more real than I’d ever experienced them in my life, while the voices of the kids on either side of me seemed to float from space like phantoms. The ground dropped away and I could’ve been flying, my pillow person clutched to my side—

Oh right.

I took my pillow person with me to Lawrenceville.

I also took my pillow person with me on the camping trip.

It rode with me in the canoe.

It slept with me in my sleeping bag.

Yes, I was a loser.

I was also a hormonal teenager and, keeping company with boys my own age for what was, sadly, the first time, I had high hopes for that summer. Like the heroine of a teeny-bopper romance, I fully expected to fall in love with and KISS some preppy Caucasian boy from suburbia, ideally one who played football and/or soccer, was gifted with the social skills that I lacked, was on NHS and student council, read the classics, tanned easily, and would see me for the swan that I was. Ahem.

Suffice to say, the frizzy hair, big-ass spectacles and the extra 30-40 pounds weren’t helping my cause. That pillow person, however, was what did it, slamming the door shut on any possibilities for teeny-bopper love………

Right…getting back to light pollution. Not being able to see the stars would suck. Unfortunately, James Vlahos’ illuminating (okay, bad pun) article, “Night Rangers,” doesn’t seem to be available online but I’ll dig around some more for you folks. It’s a good article and you should read it.

WILL THE NEW US POET LAUREATE PLEASE STAND UP?

Donald Hall is the nation's new poet laureate. While I'm not familiar with his work, a Washington Post review of "The One Day," a book-length poem published in 1998 cites the following as the climactic line of the work:

"Work, love, build a house and die. But build a house."

I think that's beautiful.

I must purchase "The One Day."

Read more about Donald Hall here: http://poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/264

I'M GOING TO 328 MICKLE STREET, CAMDEN, NJ...

...who's with me?

FLIRTOLOGY

So, the other day, I'm on the phone with an audio publisher and somehow we start talking about alcohol and I mention that I'm a teetotaler. He says, "You don't need alcohol, Sabila; you're flirtatious enough without it."

My response: "Oh."

Well. I guess I'm a bit of a flirt then. Ahem.