If gay and lesbian people are given civil rights, then everyone will want them!

-Author unknown

You know what really gets to me, what really makes me angry? When people accuse me of something that I'm not guilty of. Recently, I've been accused of hating gay people.
The finger was pointed in my face and this person was so certain in their accusation, as if they could see right into my brain. As if they knew me better than I knew myself.
I had been talking about a protest against a protest that my friend was going to. A church was planning on protesting the production of The Laramie Project. A play about the unjust murder of a homosexual. I was retelling what my friend had told me about the protest.
The person I was talking to about it scoffed and said, "Why do you all of a sudden care so much about gay rights?"
WHEN had I ever not cared? I asked. To which they responded, "You used to think that being gay was awful, Asmaa. I remember you said that word for word."
What. The. Hell.
This was so not fair. Putting me on the spot like that in front of everyone. Spitting out a serious accusation that was so untrue it made my head want to explode right then and there. I was shaking. Shaking with anger at such a terrible indictment that was spit in my face.
I just want to make it clear that I honestly do believe that gay people should share the rights that everyone else has. The government has no right to intrude on matters of social affairs. If we are such a capitalistic nation then the government should go all out "laissez faire" on such a motion, especially when it comes to matters of the heart.
I don't necessarily agree with a gay lifestyle, although, I don't agree with a republican lifestyle, I don't agree with a Christian lifestyle, I don't agree with an atheist lifestyle. But do I hate Christian, Republicans, Atheists? Do I believe that they should have their rights taken away from them? Not at all. Hell no.
Then as I tried to make my point, I was told to calm down, and that it wasn't a big deal. So I was basically denied the chance to get my point across.
I just can't stand people who think that they know you, and form an idea about you in their head that's based very little on reality. Letting thoughts fester like that is bound to produce something smelly and unlike the original.
So to all you who don't love who the government says you should love, well, you can have my support to your civil liberties and a hug.

"Retail is detail."

-Howard Schultz

Today, I went into work expecting another long four hours of trying and failing to keep up my positive Target team member attitude. I had recently been moved to the sales floor. Now, what do I do on the sales floor, you may ask? Well, it's nothing special, I just stock shelves and help customers find things, but it's such a step up from cashiering because I get to use a walkie.

I walked into Target, coat and purse in hand, with a quarter in my pocket for my locker rental, as I said before, preparing myself for another normal day of work, but, almost instantly a coworker of mine ran up to me (he's always pretty enthusiastic, it's kind of sweet, almost) and informed me that I was going to be the day's GSA. You may be wondering what the hell a GSA is, and at that moment, so was I.

A GSA is a guest service ambassador. As a Guest Service Ambassador you circulate the store looking for anybody who looks lost or people who look prone to becoming lost, and ask the Target Inc. TradeMark'd words "Can I help you find something?". That is literally all you do. And when you do help them find something, you mark it on this little clipboard that you carry around with you. (Actually, it's not little at all; it's pretty normal sized, really. I don't know why I used that word. Just an adjective filler, I suppose.)

So (let's call him Jay) runs up to me and fills me in on what my day holds. He says that it's no sweat and he'll walk me through it. I go in, hang my coat, find a locker in which I put my quarter, and clock in. The lady at the TSC front desk instructs me on what to do. For that day I got to carry around with me, not only a walkie, but a PDA and a clipboard. I was all set to help people make their shopping experience more enjoyable and efficient.

And boy, did I feel all official, struttin' around in my new dark red button up work shirt, with a clip board, a PDA, and a walkie. I was pretty enthusiastic about my assignment. Plus, I was an ambassador. I had never been an ambassador before. The name alone sounded official.

My enthusiasm wore off as quickly as it came once I realized that the job was pretty tiring. You circulate Target over and over and over again repeating the same words. 75% of people you ask are going to reject your offerings of help and tell you that they're "just looking". A few people are going to feel offended, as if you're insulting their intelligence by offering your guidance. As the rejection piled up, I began praying for somebody to accept my assistance, if only to occupy me. Pretty soon, however, the store became busier and I found that sometimes as I was on a mission for one guest, another would stop me and ask me to help them with something.

So many things happen on the target floor. I had a couple who broke two jars of baby food, a man who asked me all about a 64GB iTouch that he was looking to buy, and a lady who put her arm around me as she asked me all her questions.

All in all it was an interesting, tiring, headache inducing, and ultimately a good experience of a day.

“Pessimist: One who, when he has the choice of two evils, chooses both.”

-Oscar Wilde

Of course, the saying goes, life is a roller coaster. It goes up and it goes down, and your feelings coincide with the roller coaster's directions. As your inching towards the top, you feel giddy and bright and hopeful, and you tweet things such as, "omgggggg. i loveeee life."
Unlike a roller coaster; however, the plunge into the low point sometimes does not happen quickly. It takes time, the car you're in descends, and you don't even realize it; however, other times, the car races. You think you're having a good time and BAM, lyfe sux. And, really, unlike all the crazy rides I went on at 6 flags, it's not at all any fun. By the time you're at the bottom of the thing you look around, dazed, as if having been struck, trying to figure out how you got to where you are now. And as it gets to the point where you feel that all is lost, the car starts inching its way up.
The uphill climb can sometimes go ZIIIIIIIIIP and arrive at the peak before you even know it, and you find yourself smiling and singing along to the songs on the radio again.
Pessimists, however, even as their at the highest point of the roller coaster, can never forget the suckiness of being at the bottom. They hold onto it, and look at life through a fogged window. The fog being there to keep them from getting a good look as to what's on the other side. The fog reminding them that they need to stay behind the window, and not venture their way outside.
I should know because I am a board certified ohfishal pessimist. I used to roll my eyes when people would call me pessimistic. How absurd! I'm outgoing, I'm friendly, I'm comical, how could I possibly be a pessimist? Then I realized, you can be all smiles and sunshine, but that doesn't mean that you haven't got that cloud in sight that threatens to cover your light. And when you're a pessimist, you can't take your eyes off that threatening cloud.
That cloud threatens to hang above you, to rain on you and your day, wetting your clothes, and ruining your hair.
When you're a pessimist, you look at life through wide opened eyes, taking in everything, hoping for the best, but expecting the worst.
Maybe I'm not a pessimist, maybe I'm just a realist. Maybe I know that there are no such things as people you can always count on no matter what, that the grass looks greener on the other side, but is probably just because of the lighting, and besides, the greener the grass the harder it is to remove the grass stains.

"I wanna take a ride on your disco stick."

-Queen of Pop, Lady Gaga

Laaaaddyyyyyyy Gagaaa, oh you, with your rock star pin up girl look. You've completely abandoned your Italian roots and turned into our pop culture's new Madonna.

I really do believe that she is one of today's most underrated artists. She's the perfect example of the American dream. Lady Gaga literally went from being nobody to being...well, Lady Gaga, rich, famous, and full of talent, and talented she is. She sounds just as great live as she does on her CD's. She has been playing the piano since she was only four years old.


Lady Gaga, pre-Gaga


Her claim to fame didn't just happen overnight. No. It took time and commitment and perseverance. In one interview I saw of her she admits that she was sometimes boo'ed off stage at some clubs she sang at; however, she didn't let this get to her.

Lady Gaga is completely and totally bizarre. She's out there, in her looks, in her music, in her actions and words and just...everything. Her outfits get her all the attention that they're meant to attract, and at least part of the reason why she's always done up so crazily is, no denying it, attention.




and her videos and songs are outrageous. Almost all her songs are about sex or have sexual references in them.

Example: "I'm not bluffin with my muffin."
"I want your psycho, your vertical stick."
"Baby, if it's love, if it's not rough it isn't fun."
"Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang."

She herself admits that sex isn't something that she holds too serious. She's made it very clear before that she goes both ways, and that she's just lookin' to have some fun with some good lookin' people. She says that what she looks for in a partner is (and I quote), "A big dick."


Although I don't at all agree with her lifestyle choices, I can't help but have some respect for her. It's hard for me to come up with any other major names that have risen up from completely nothing and become something as big as Lady Gaga is now.

"I'd like mornings better if they started later."

-Anon.

Everyday before I go to school, there's a certain process that I undergo before I deem myself fit to walk the halls of my high school amongst my friends. Of course, appearance is a major priority. I'm not going to bullshit you and say I don't care what people think of me because I sure as hell do. Occasionally I'll pull the whole no make up, lazy thing and walk into school looking like crap, but for the most part, I try to keep up with my looks. Make up, an extensive decision making process over what outfit I'm going to wear (although 98% of the time I end up pulling something out, last minute and just deciding it looks all right), and at least 10 minutes devoted to making my hair look at least half way decent.


-What goes on my face-

I also take at least 5 minutes thinking up of reasons why that particular day will happen to be a good day. I call it my "Moment of optimism". Somebody once told me that if you wake up in the morning and decide that you're going to have a good day, then you'll end up being more positive and your day just may end up turning out all right after all. As opposed to waking up in the morning thinking such things as.."fuck today", as I have many a morning, cursing the schools for making it start so early. I don't know how much basis there was behind this so called "fact", but I thought it sounded logical enough, so I thought I'd give it a try. Also, as those who know me well will tell you, I'm a bit of a pessimist, so I thought a positive start to my day could only do me some good. It's really pretty disappointing when I can only think up reasons why that particular day holds no appeal to me.

It's a sad life


Before finally making my way upstairs, I take a moment or two assessing what of my homework I have and haven't done. And then I try and figure out which classes I'm going to do each in. Most of the time, I end up going to bed doing a good 90% less of what I should have done. Slacking is in my genetics, there's really nothing I can do to alter the way nature made me. Sorry teachers/Mom/Dad/every friend I've given a belated gift to/taken forever to burn a CD for. Tsk tsk.

Then I either eat breakfast if I have time to, or grab something to eat at school. There are times where I have neither something to eat at home or school, so I go hungry and pray for lunch to come quickly, which it never seems to do, leaving only me and an angry stomach.

It seems that the things that make your day terrible are what happens in that time between waking up and classes.

Mornings are never my favorite part of the day and I feel like life would become significantly better once waking up at 5:45 becomes a problem that I don't have to deal with.

Dodging and burning are steps to take care of mistakes God made in establishing tonal relationships.

-Ansel Adams

I love photography. I love being able to take a picture, and in that photo capture just a small moment of a day. The best pictures, I believe, are those caught candid. I'm always the one snapping candid pictures at a party. You catch people off guard, and unaware. They're not posing. They've got no sculpted expression. Nothing to hide behind.












I'm walking down the streets of downtown Marion with my model for the day. We'd been planning this shoot for a long time. It was a great opportunity for the both of us, however it had been difficult to get a time set up. Our two main problems were that, either, our schedules conflicted, or it was the weather that was putting a dent in our plans.


Finally, one day, we were able to get together and shoot. Our previous failed sessions had made this one all the more sweet. We were both very excited and ready to have at it.

The beginning of a shoot is always just a little bit awkward. The model is unsure of what to do, and so are you. You really need to get the feel of what it is you're going for. You try different angles and poses, until finally you know exactly what it is you want, and you know exactly how it is you're going to get it.



That particular day I was going for a mellow, sort of city look. A faded look, with an underlying tough, grunge feel. That's exactly what I got, and it made me proud. I uploaded the pictures, and the response I got made me feel amazing. I still open that album up on my computer and take my time to look through each picture. They make me smile.







To know that each picture was taken by me. To know that people think pictures I take are good makes me feel awesome. There's nothing better than to feel proud of your work, and then also have other people tell you that you should be proud. Nothing can compare.



I love working with people much more than I like working with inanimate objects. Don't get me wrong, I love taking pictures of both, and I did a lot with nature before upgrading cameras, but now that I've had opportunities to work with people, I prefer it. A person can give you all sorts of emotions. You work with them, shape them, mold them into what you want. They also provide a challenge. It's much harder to get a good picture of a person than it is with a flower. Flowers are always there. Set your camera on macro settings and point it at a geranium, and under decent lighting conditions (which you'll probably find yourself with, considering most flowers are outside), you've got a good shot. A person, however, must be hitting the right pose. Must have the right expression on their faces. They then must hold that.







In the already overly cliche world of photography you have to have a certain flair to your pictures. I feel that the only way you can get that across is through personality, through people.

Don't get me wrong, as I said before, I still enjoy working with inanimate objects. My favorite kinds of still life pictures are the ones of something you wouldn't necessarily think of as an interesting thing to capture, but through manipulation of angle or position to get a good light or shine, it makes for a beautiful picture.





Now these pictures, I'm especially proud of. Not because they're particularly good, but because I shot it using a handheld, point and shoot, film camera that was about 10 years old, and then developed the film all on my own, and then enlarged the film all on my own.

I try to take my camera with me everywhere. If I could I'd carry it around school with me. Three problems,
1) It's too big and bulky.
2) I'd run the risk of having it stolen. Not a risk I'm willing to take.
3) I don't think too many people would be happy with me snapping pictures in the middle of class.
When I go to a friend's house, I bring my camera. When a friend comes over, I like to take a few pictures.
I'm always the one at the restaurant, with my camera out taking pictures of the food and the dishes and the cups and the forks and spoons, and just anything, really, attracting a lot of insults and stares from my friends. I don't really mind, though. I still do it.




Well, when it comes down to it. I own a Canon. That doesn't make me a photagrapher, just a Canon owner. I like to take pictures, but I'm strictly amateur. Maybe one day I'll have a website. Maybe we can get a little crazy and say that maybe one day I'll have a studio. Although, when I think about it, I don't want a studio. I don't want to be at all confined when it comes to where I go or what I take with my camera.

I'm a picture taker. Who happens to like picture taking quite a lot.

And finally Winter, with its bitin', whinin' wind, and all the land will be mantled with snow.

-Roy Bean


Nothing can beat a snow day. You get up, exhausted and exasperated, ready to drag yourself through another boring, repetitive day of school, life, and all that goes along with it. You mentally brace yourself for the physical pain you feel from sleeplessness, and, without fail, there it is. It hits you hard, leaving you crippled, and making your bed look ridiculously appealing. Even more so, knowing that it's forbidden. You shiver at the cold.

Wait. Cold...snow.

A memory suddenly breaks through the groggy daze you find yourself in. That memory is of you, listening to the news about a snow storm. Cautiously, you dare yourself to check the cancellations page on the KCRG website. You prepare yourself for the tragic let down you may find, yet, you can't help but hope. You scroll down, and there it is. Black and white. The letters that make up your school's name.


Classes Cancelled.

A rush of euphoria hits and even though you were down right exhausted moments before, you jump, throw your fist up in the air, and let out a "WOOT WOOOOOOOOT!"
You hop under your covers, shiver with delight, and let sleep take you.


You wake up to sunlight streaming through your window, the sound of your siblings playing the Wii in the room next door, and the smell of pancakes wafting in. A lazy smile spreads across your face. You stretch, taking all the time in the world. Because that's essentially what you've got. All the time in the world. You check the time, evaluating whether or not to get up. The hands of your clock are making their way to the 11 mark, so you decide that now would be a good time to start the glorious day you've got in store. You take your time getting out of bed, relishing in the delight you feel. The delight of having absolutely nothing to do that day. Of just being able to relax, watch the box set of the season of your favorite show that you bought. The delight of doing whatever you want, however long you want, without feeling the tug of all the obligations you've got for the next day at school.

So that's what you do. Be as lazy as you possibly can be, in the comfort and warmth of your home, safe and away from the icy fury that is outside.

Those are the essentials of a snow day.