Snow in Disguise

Ive been borrowing one book from the library all of the past month. Its the only one that NO bookstore in Montreal has. Its a Canadian Edition, and you know how they roll. (I actually dont know what their deal is man. Like seriously.)


So i wake up, go to the library, stay there for an hour, eat on campus, issue it and study. Until 3. When a loophole lets me keep a course reserve till 11 am next morning. So i issue it at 3 and go home. And i rush to campus at 11 am and repeat.


Yesterday, i couldn't. I checked back since the moment it was due back till the borrowing closed. The person who had borrowed probably payed some crazy ass fine on that book now. But i simply could not get the book. And there has never been a day where i couldnt borrow this book. 


And then from 2.44 to 7.16 am, I witnessed my first snowfall. 


I ran out in my flip-flops and pajamas. I welcomed winter with uncovered arms and feet. And the smile on my face, when those tiny flecks metled on my skin, was the only warmth i had. But it was enough. Enough to pull me through the minus 8 of Montreal snowy night. 


God didnt want me studying and sleeping early so i could return my book because he wanted me to see the first snow fall of my life.


He works in mysterious ways. Ones that never fail to amaze me.

College life. Y u no b easy?

Im sitting at the library. Choosing to write about how i dont have a topic to write about rather than finding a topic to write about and not write about not having a topic to write about and writing on that topic.


So exactly how does one decide on a topic out of a gazillion? With about like a billion books published on everything that socio has to offer.. Im stuck reading a book that would be easy for my sister to even understand. Who by the way is 14 and is not at all a socio person. But im here without a clue how to stretch a topic over 10 pages with 4 "scholarly"* references. 


*Who is not a scholar these days? 
Amir Liaquat called himself a scholar. Look where that got him :P

Bold and Beautiful.

I got whispered at in the elevator by a man really politely that i should wear that shirt with dress pants, it would accentuate my gorgeous lower body. Never had i known what accentuating the lower body meant, but when i did try it on. Oh man. I knew what accentuating my lower body meant. And also, that someone as fat as me could even have a gorgeous lower body. I mean seriously. I've never thought twice about putting clothes on. And i think i've used accentuate enough.

Effeminate men made me uncomfortable.


I would put them in the same category as aunties at weddings with their plates full, big upper bodies coming to hug (read: suffocate) you and when i have to go to the "ladies room" and there are another 10 girls already there not wanting to use it for its actual purpose but to stare and glare...


This isnt a bitching or anything discriminatory but its just a thought.


Maybe i used to get so uncomfortable is because it wasnt so common in my society, then the issue of a language barrier (the one i face with most girls) and then just seeing them do their thing.


I see my prez strutting down the caf stairs and i say to myself, man, that guy really has some guts. I would never be able to be that confident and showing the world who i really am. He's bold. He's daring. And he's actually not full of himself. By far, at my rez, he has been the most welcoming and warm person ive met. 


Now, i look at effeminate men and i see a way for me to be bolder. Believe it or not, its just really overwhelming to see them carrying themselves off better than most women. Their sense of style, talk and most of all their elegance.