Step 4: Wearing A Sleeveless Top.
First day of class and I've never been more excited. Its the first time I've actually gotten ready on my own without my mom constantly reminding me to wear my white socks or to wash my face. Honestly, I've given up on trying to remind her that I'm an adult --legally, mentally and biologically-- because talking back can get you into deep shit, i.e. the last chapter.
I picked out a really pretty top and jeans that I bought with Bailee yesterday; it was our first time going out together and over this week I've gotten to know her pretty well. I never thought I'd actually make friends here with my ethnicity in question but lo and behold, here we are.
After spending about fifteen minutes getting dressed, Bailee and I headed to Starbucks for breakfast. My first time in Starbucks went a little bit like this:
There were so many intimidating options and I only knew cappuccino, latte and hot chocolate but if I chose hot chocolate I'd be majorly frowned upon. Bailee helped me out and I ended up ordering something called a 'Triple, Venti, Half Sweet, Non-Fat, Caramel Macchiato.' As I was in line, I swear it felt like preparing for a final year, medical exam and when it was time to order, I was sure I was failing. So Bailee ended up ordering for me, she's my saving grace. The drink wasn't actually that bad, but the process of ordering the drink was horrific.
Another new experience was when the Starbucks barista took the responsibility of white-girl-ifying my very simple name. It's Myra! Who the flip confuses it for Maya. Besides, the name has many memories attached to it that I'd rather keep at bay. Who wants to remember who their crush ended with?
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First day of class couldn't have gone better. Honestly! The teachers are finally open minded and some of them aren't much much of an eyesore *ahem* Mr. Brown *ahem*. I even managed to make some pretty hot friends. We even took some really nice pictures by the campus which I happily posted on facebook. For the first time I used facebook for reasons other that stalking. I like to think that it is one of my best photos because tbh, Pakis don't know how to work a phone camera let alone a DSLR.
I thought that putting the photo up was a great call because my parents could finally see me bragging like they do. But I thought wrong.
As soon as I picked up the phone and heard Ammi's Voice, I knew I was in for some serious shit. For an entire hour, I sat on my bed procrastinating about work I had to do while I listened to my mother yell at my from halfway across the world.
"Kay sey thumhari shaadi ho gee agar tum aysay gandi, gandi tusweeron post kurogee? " Wallahi, all I was wearing was a pair of jeans which were just above my ankles, ballet flats and a mere sleeveless top. But it wasn't so mere for them. To them it was their daughter on her way to becoming a prostitute.
By this point in my life, anything hurtful they said to me wasn't as effective as they thought it was. It goes through one ear and out the other. A trick I highly recommend you use if you're desi. I have five more sleeveless tops in my wardrobe and I sure as hell am going to wear them, but maybe not post it online this time. Lesson learnt. Isn't that their goal?
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A/N
YAAY! Another chapter is up. what do you think?
Glossary:
Kay sey thumhari shaadi ho gee agar tum aysay gandi, gandi tusweeron post kurogee?: How will you get married if you keep posting these dirty, dirty pictures?
