in shit street without a paddle

I warn you. This isn’t going to be pretty. Or happy. Or girly. And if you get offended by this, so be it. I’m so sick of pushy people imposing their opinions on me…and im sick of people who babble on and on with no point. And im sick of males who think they can call me ‘sweety’ after one phonecall coz their dam ego’s compensate for their lack of brain capacity.

So I go to this comedy festival right. I wasn’t in the best mood. I never really am when im surrounded by a bunch of stiff, pretentious muslim people. Then there was mj. If he wasn’t there, im sure I would’ve pulled someone’s hair out strand by strand. So after the comedy, this chick from my class- well, she’s not there anymore, comes to say hi. This is the girl, who said to me before she had the baby, ‘oh, you must come home to see the baby…and bring all your notes for me too.’ The chick who used me, who lied and found a way to do nothing for her group project because…she stole it from last year’s group. And no, I cant do anything about it- coz I’d look like a sore loser and nobody has the balls to confront the lecturer about it with me. So she’s all hi and glitterified, looking condescendingly at me and mum..and says ‘oh, I didn’t expect you to come here.’ Now wtf is that supposed to mean? I brushed it off, but now im thinking..i shouldve asked her why. I get this a lot. People think im some kinda nerd or holy cow and that I don’t have a life coz im not wild and all gaga over guys and throwing myself at them all the time.
Then, this guy..im supposed to be doing business with him. he phones me..says his name twice to me like im supposed to have a flipping orgasm coz he actually is phoning me. so he’s kinda well-known, its not like I haven’t had my share of that. And I got pushed into this deal. Even though I have a bad feeling about it. now the idiot is trying to make me get all wow about him, throwing it in my face that the muslim community adores him etc. then he calls me sweety. Fart. And he’s all ‘I cant stop thinking about you, lets be famous together.’It just grossed me out. And I knew he’s a perv, but I have enough on my plate and im not gonna put up with his crap just coz I could make money.
Another thing. Girls. Whatever happened to shyness? There are some things you don’t say in front of a guy..there’s an etiquette to being in society. Be a lady for goodness sake! and dont get touchy with every guy you think is cool. Draw the line. Be demure- there’s something called elegance.
And there’s something called herpes.
No, really. This professional guy walked into the pharmacy with oral herpes coz he drank coke from his friend’s glass just on one occasion. Im just saying. Don’t drink around. Respect yourself a lil bit.
Also. The kitchen’s almost done. And all my damn spare time has been taken up by grinding my teeth alone at home with three workmen running around, when I could be sleeping or doing this essay ive been putting off forever. My neighbour happens to waltz in under the pretence of checking up on me. she’s the fanatical Islamic, jealous type who left her husband rolling on the floor in pain and told him it’ll blow over. Yeah, those kidney stones took a while to blow over.
Anyway, she has a habit of lying to get donations for charity work, or using sawaab as an incentive for people to do things for her. Now, when she saw the granite, she went ballistic telling mum its too expensive. then, she walks in and says the cupboards should go right up to the ceiling. Mum says, ‘no, I like it this way,’ she says,’ oh well..theres nothing you can do about it now.’ She tells me that tiles need to cover the bottom of the cupboard. I wanted to ask her..’who the fuck tiles their cupboards?’ but I just smiled and hoped the dagger reached her. You know, its our business. Not hers. If you don’t like it, shut the hell up. Its black, white and sliver. Just ideal for mum and I. Apparently, she thinks woodgrain is all modern. Don’t you ever wish you could just say what you wanted to right there and then – just tell them something witty yet piercing that could sum up everything you were feeling at the time. I think I’ve done that only 3 times so far.. Ok, Im starting to sound like ive been watching You’ve Got Mail too many times.
One more thing. If you’re my friend, at least try and pretend you have an interest in my work. And make time to at least read my story. Don’t tell me you don’t have the time or you’ll read it this weekend and lie to me that im a priority after I painstakingly wrote it and sent it to a select few, anticipating an iota of enthusiasm from you. Just tell me you don’t want it. I wont burden you with it again.