Splitting the Seams

Month: October, 2013

Why I Suck As a Barista

Hello folks, welcome to another episode of “Why.” I’m your host, Mushra, and oh do I have a story to tell you. Cuddle round you kids and critters, cause it’s time for a listen-in.

There was a girl who loved books and coffee and tea. To her great excitement, she got to work at a place that provided both to its guests. However, she preferred working with the books rather than the coffee, putting things back in order, meeting new paperbound stories, rather calming and exhilirating; working with the coffee meant memorizing everything, including those specifications of picky people.

It would seem she made more errors trying to create and serve drinks to her customers, and that she was more successful finding and delivering books to them instead.

Proof of this would be how she was able to place specified books in the hands of the customer who asked for it, whereas otherwise she overflows sinks and starts drinks over again, making a new mistake each time and never really learning.

Perhaps she was just a visual learner rather than a learner by doing and that was why physical books suited her better than ideas of cafe drinks.

While she was not meant to be a barista, she would help out whenever needed to the best of her abilities and the furthest of her extent, always dreaming of being alone with the books.

Thanks for reading so far.

_Mushra_

Why I Might Start Posting Once Weekly

Seems that I just don’t have what it takes to continuously post day after day, and by “what it takes,” I mean time. I just haven’t got the time, especially now that the holidays are nearing and work will require more of my time, and now that midterms are coming up it too will require much of my time. This is all not including time with the family or boyfriend.
This post is short since I wrote it at work, on break of course, and just as a friendly update. Perhaps if I have time, I will post again tonight.

Why I Didn’t Post an Article Last Night

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You know, every now and then we need a break from evrything, from life. I went to school yesterday. My day started at 530, waking up in my boyfriend’s arms and then getting ready as fast as possible. Even though I don’t have class til 10, I leave at 630 so that I can get a good parking spot. Once said spot is discovered and claimed, I take a nap.

After napping for some time, I head off to the convenient store on school, grab some breakfast, and then jet off to my first class of the day. Learn, learn, notes, learn, and then class is done. I grab myself some lunch and then head to the basement of the library for some study time.

But yesterday, instead of doing school work, I just read and read and read for two hours. Currently, I’m reading The Khalada Stone by Russell Meek. It’s fantastic.

Then off to class number two. La-di-da, and then head off to home.

After all of the work I’ve been doing lately in preparation for midterms, I’ve felt quite exhausted, so I decided to take the day off of everything after class.

I went home and discovered that my mother is a bit ill, then ran to the store to get some of those work pants I mentioned in an earlier article, and headed over to my boyfriends house for a proper date.

For the first time ever, he got me flowers (only cause I told him to)–three carnations, each of either white, violet, or orange–and then we went to eat some scandinavian food.

Afterwards, we went back home and got lazy in our pjs, laying on the couch, watching videos on hulu and youtube.

A break like this was just what I needed. Adventure isn’t something I seek out much, so a day in just relaxing comfortably is just my kind of day off, and while it wasn’t for the entire day, it was still a good day.

Why Rain is Amazing

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Oh, how I love the rain, the way it trickles down the drain pipes and pounds on the roof, and how–if we’re fortunate enough–it is accompanied by the quick flashes of lightening and rolling waves of thunder. It hasn’t rained here in what feels like forever, and yet it feels like it rained just yesterday as well. I can remember sitting in my bedroom at my old apartment last year, lying on the floor, listening to the rain try to break in with the hard wind’s assistance and feeling the thrill that at any moment it actually might.

When I was a child, I used to actually go out in the rain. But then again, if our parents allowed us to or didn’t know about it, didn’t we all? You’d get on your rain boots or sneakers–anything at all–and just bounce around and splash in the rain til you were drenched in that cloud water.

The puddles were always my favorite thing. Walking home from school and seeing the sky on the ground, reflecting in a puddle, was one of the most magical and otherworldly things I had ever experienced as a child and even still today as an adult. Only now puddles also remind me of The Looking Glass Wars and how if you step into the right one, you could wind up in Underland.

The hot cocoa comes out in a nice little mug and you can cuddle close to your partner, safe in their arms, or huddled beside your kitty or doggy or pet of your choice, maybe even just chillin’ at home alone in the mini fort made of fleece blankets or faux animal fur you’ve made for yourself.

All I know is that the rain finally visited me today–finally!–and I was so in love with every second of it. Staring out of the window, seeing everything turn white for an instant and seconds later hearing that loud crash roll across the sea of clouds and space, making me quiver and duck, but with eyes widened with anticipation and a smile signifying excitement.

It was also my first time driving in the rain, and it was terrifying and worth it.

Now the rain has stopped and I don’t expect it to come around again for a while, maybe until winter. That’s the thing about California, it doesn’t rain enough for me. I enjoy it every chance I get, whether it’s watching it, listening to it, or being in it–and I got to do all three today–rain is, has been, and always will be something that I thoroughly enjoy, and that will be missed every time it goes away.

The week should be getting warmer again and climbing back up to the 80s in a few days and I can honestly say that I would rather have this 65 degree wet, rainy, cool weather with my comfy clothes than that California sun everyone seems to be so in love with.

Thanks for reading so far.

_Mushra_

Why Rain is Amazing

tumblr_lzag8gsxGN1qhkdepo1_500

Oh, how I love the rain, the way it trickles down the drain pipes and pounds on the roof, and how–if we’re fortunate enough–it is accompanied by the quick flashes of lightening and rolling waves of thunder. It hasn’t rained here in what feels like forever, and yet it feels like it rained just yesterday as well. I can remember sitting in my bedroom at my old apartment last year, lying on the floor, listening to the rain try to break in with the hard wind’s assistance and feeling the thrill that at any moment it actually might.

When I was a child, I used to actually go out in the rain. But then again, if our parents allowed us to or didn’t know about it, didn’t we all? You’d get on your rain boots or sneakers–anything at all–and just bounce around and splash in the rain til you were drenched in that cloud water.

The puddles were always my favorite thing. Walking home from school and seeing the sky on the ground, reflecting in a puddle, was one of the most magical and otherworldly things I had ever experienced as a child and even still today as an adult. Only now puddles also remind me of The Looking Glass Wars and how if you step into the right one, you could wind up in Underland.

The hot cocoa comes out in a nice little mug and you can cuddle close to your partner, safe in their arms, or huddled beside your kitty or doggy or pet of your choice, maybe even just chillin’ at home alone in the mini fort made of fleece blankets or faux animal fur you’ve made for yourself.

All I know is that the rain finally visited me today–finally!–and I was so in love with every second of it. Staring out of the window, seeing everything turn white for an instant and seconds later hearing that loud crash roll across the sea of clouds and space, making me quiver and duck, but with eyes widened with anticipation and a smile signifying excitement.

It was also my first time driving in the rain, and it was terrifying and worth it.

Now the rain has stopped and I don’t expect it to come around again for a while, maybe until winter. That’s the thing about California, it doesn’t rain enough for me. I enjoy it every chance I get, whether it’s watching it, listening to it, or being in it–and I got to do all three today–rain is, has been, and always will be something that I thoroughly enjoy, and that will be missed every time it goes away.

The week should be getting warmer again and climbing back up to the 80s in a few days and I can honestly say that I would rather have this 65 degree wet, rainy, cool weather with my comfy clothes than that California sun everyone seems to be so in love with.

Thanks for reading so far.

_Mushra_

Why I Want (And Need) a New Wardrobe

7ddf46692d56412477f7bbf8ad17a10b Though I very much lack the funding to revamp my high school wardrobe into that of a mature and hard working 22-year old, there are a few items of clothing (mostly shirts) that I can use at this time for work. The thing is that this is the first job I’ve worked at where there wasn’t a set uniform. One can pretty much wear what they want so long as it’s not too revealing, made of denim, of the open-toe-shoe variety, or just completely inappropriate in any way.

Recently, I bought one new pair of pants and five new shirts (see what I mean with the shirts?) to dress up my usual weekend-wear closet.

Now, my wardrobe really hasn’t changed much since high school–maybe a few new tees here or there–but it’s definitely not immature clothing. I’ve got a very simple style of jeans and tees with boots or converse. Flats don’t fit me very well because I’m quite a small person and I wear 4.5 in the shoe department (you know they don’t really make many shoes in that size), so normally I have to wear shoes that lace up to the ankle like high-top converse or boots, that way my shoes aren’t flying off my feet. Then with any pants I wear, I have to have them hemmed if they’re not skinny and tight to my ankles where I can just bunch them up. Shirts are a completely different story because depending on who you buy from, I could fit in an x-small or I can fit in a medium.

Adult clothing and shoes to match are difficult finds for someone who is barely five feet tall.

Now that you know my pain, moving onward…

My work told me a few days ago that we are not allowed to wear jeans at work. They told this to me because I was wearing jeans, yet my manager told me to wear “regular clothes” and it says no where in our little booklet that no jeans are allowed. Personally, I thought that I looked very nice and very work-casual, which is pretty much the dress-code. I wore very dark blue jeans, a nice brown and gold belt, a beige fashion tee with a left front pocket dazzled up with little gold studs at the top, and brown boots. My shirt was tucked in so as to give it a more professional feel.

Apparently, this was more frowned upon at work than wearing leggings with a sheer tunic. I only own one pair of good work pants. My other two forms of work pants are either sun-stained from one job I had or still covered with a layer of food-film from the other. Wearing green pants every day at work with a different shirt might start looking a bit strange though, so I suppose I must endeavor to buy myself at least two more pairs of pants. Hopefully one black, and the other either dark blue (like my jeans) or some other kind of color. I’ll get what I can take. Even khaki colored will do, so long as I don’t have to hem them by hand again.

While I would love to wear my jeans to work seeing as how I feel jeans are probably somehow more professional than leggings, which, as we all know, are essentially thick tights that are unflattering on most body types, I am now learning just what work casual means, or at least what it means here at my new job.

Were I running the place, I would ban leggings and instead allow jeans so long as they’re not torn or faded. Every person–man or woman–should own a good pair of jeans with which he or she can pull off a classy look. I feel that jeans have a bad stigma against them, maybe because they were used in the mining days for hard labor or maybe because they’ve become a casual fashion trend–I stress the word CASUAL–and so they’re not allowed in the work place.

I just have to wonder, though, why they really aren’t allowed. Go on pinterest and look at all the classy, fashionable, and superior looking styles that one can pull off with jeans. Jeans are so very versatile, they can be casual or classy, dressed-up or dressed-down, torn and frayed or nice and neat, and yet they are somehow banned when it comes to professionalism.

Makes no sense to me, but I am not the one making the rules and so I must abide by them at this present time. I need new clothes because the ones I have just aren’t good enough for work, where I’ll be spending the majority of my days. Off to find some new pants for my new life. Wee!

Thanks for reading so far.

_Mushra_

P.S. This article was supposed to be posted yesterday, so y’all get a 2-fer today. Another article will be posted later today as planned. Thanks.

Why I Want a Typewriter

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It’s not to look “hipster” or to be cool before cool was cool or anything like that. I want a typewriter so that I might write in peace without the interwebular distractions or a time limit based on the battery power that accompany a laptop, and without the aching cramp I get from my wrist to my fingertips every time I write a paragraph. We who still take notes by hand know this pain of writing with fervor to get every word down. In fact, my hand is hurting right now.

My decision to get a typewriter someday may have been heavily influenced by the movie Finding Forrester and especially that scene where Sean Connery yells at his pupil, “Punch the keys, for God’s sake!” I took this as a literal scene where he wanted Jamal to literally hit the keys down rather than lightly press them, and as a metaphorical image of how one should not fear disrupting the peace while writing, that one should not fear breaking some sort of peace with their writing.

Do you even know how wonderful that sound is, of your fingers hitting the trigger to place letter dipped in ink upon paper and create words, sentences, paragraphs, novels, poems? Do you know how the push-back of the keys against your fingers is almost so electric that it is nearly orgasmic? Perhaps it is only me who gets this wack feeling of love when I dangerously slam down the keys on a display typewriter at The Lab anti-mall, a typewriter I haven’t seen there since my last ecstatic fiasco. In my defense, there was no sign saying not to touch it, just a cranky yelling clerk at the hat shop located there.

I really want a typewriter because my hand is burning like the fires of hell, and I haven’t a doubt that when I type this up it will take me five hours because my tumblr and pinterest feed are just as addictive as watching Pewdiepie, Markiplier, and Cry scream their heads off in fear, rage and laugh at the games they play. Okay, maybe not five hours, but still too long.

Thanks for reading so far.

_Mushra_

Why I Want a Typewriter

Image

It’s not to look “hipster” or to be cool before cool was cool or anything like that. I want a typewriter so that I might write in peace without the interwebular distractions or a time limit based on the battery power that accompany a laptop, and without the aching cramp I get from my wrist to my fingertips every time I write a paragraph. We who still take notes by hand know this pain of writing with fervor to get every word down. In fact, my hand is hurting right now.

My decision to get a typewriter someday may have been heavily influenced by the movie Finding Forrester and especially that scene where Sean Connery yells at his pupil, “Punch the keys, for God’s sake!” I took this as a literal scene where he wanted Jamal to literally hit the keys down rather than lightly press them, and as a metaphorical image of how one should not fear disrupting the peace while writing, that one should not fear breaking some sort of peace with their writing.

Do you even know how wonderful that sound is, of your fingers hitting the trigger to place letter dipped in ink upon paper and create words, sentences, paragraphs, novels, poems? Do you know how the push-back of the keys against your fingers is almost so electric that it is nearly orgasmic? Perhaps it is only me who gets this wack feeling of love when I dangerously slam down the keys on a display typewriter at The Lab anti-mall, a typewriter I haven’t seen there since my last ecstatic fiasco. In my defense, there was no sign saying not to touch it, just a cranky yelling clerk at the hat shop located there.

I really want a typewriter because my hand is burning like the fires of hell, and I haven’t a doubt that when I type this up it will take me five hours because my tumblr and pinterest feed are just as addictive as watching Pewdiepie, Markiplier, and Cry scream their heads off in fear, rage and laugh at the games they play. Okay, maybe not five hours, but still too long.

Thanks for reading so far.

_Mushra_

Why Start This Blog?

One day my class was cancelled at school. The class normally starts at 10 (I was on campus by 9) and my next class wasn’t for another 4 hours. What else was there left to do? Nothing, of course, but grab some grub, some coffee, and hang out inside the basement of the library on campus. I finally got one of the oh so coveted single desks under the slanted, tinted windows where one can see students walking by and the tall, green trees blocking out the sun. It was nice to every now and then look up and see a slight reflection of myself looking the part of a university student, dawned in my university sweater flare with the school newspaper, a notebook ready to be written in, a smaller notebook used for writing some of these articles, and a book for one of my classes resting on the table before me.

All I was missing was some sort of radio device with which I could block out all traces of sound and replace them with my own background music. Unfortunately, in order to use some kind of online radio service on my phone I need to use the internet. This is unfortunate because the library and my school itself have terrible wireless internet service–especially underground–and I’m almost over my data limit for now.

Carrying on!

I had very little homework to do–not to mention I wanted to take the time I had to begin writing again since I haven’t for such a long time. I was chatting with a close friend of mine via facebook messenger and somehow we got onto the topic of typewriters. Suddenly, my fingers were flying against the keys of my phone’s mini keyboard, typing furiously why I wanted one so badly though I knew little about them. I realized then that I was writing. I was actually writing again! and not for a class or because I was forced to, but because the words were simply flowing through and out of me. Perhaps it was the spark cast by conversation that started it or perhaps it was something else, but whatever it was it worked. I began to write and write.

Two articles down and I began to brainstorm numerous topics that I could write on, of which all of the titles began with “Why this?” or “Why that?” and thus some accidental theme was born within my writing. You may or may not like what I talk about. The subjects may or may not interest you. Some of the topics encase the theme of why you should do something or why you shouldn’t, but please stay open minded and remember that this is simply my own opinion and I mean no offense to any one person. If I do offend, I apologize immensely.

In brief, I started this blog because I want to write. I don’t know how many articles this blog will hold. I’m sure it won’t last forever. The posts may be sporadic or they may be quite consistent. I’m really not sure as this is just my first blogging experience. I hope you all enjoy it either way. Thanks for reading so far.

_Mushra_