#bazareno

[bazareno]

Woohoo! We’re back.

[bazareno]

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Emaan and I are currently working on a fun project, but here is something I never finished before we post that. Get excited! Inspired by Alison Zeidman’s article here: http://www.nytimes.com/2015/10/18/opinion/sunday/actually-weve-already-met.html?_r=0. And the hairless twin of my submission piece that ended up being published here: http://dailybruin.com/2016/02/11/submission-college-crushes-soulmates-and-paul-rudd/.

I didn’t really worry about the entire “being single” thing, until my aunt said to me in the car one day that she and my uncle would accept anyone I loved. Why? Has that been brought up in the family? Did my mom say that? What did Grandma say? Well, I’m straight. Yes, really. No, I’m not hiding anything. Yes, I do have friends that are guys. I mean, has Malala even dated anyone? It’s not not that different—She’s 18? Oh.

Well, I still don’t think it’s that weird that I haven’t dated anyone at the age of 20. Plenty of my friends have been single their entire lives too! Although Robert just finally made something happen with that guy, and there’s Sam now too. And Betty. Regardless, they just tipped the scale to an even 50/50 right now.

Of course I’ve liked guys! Yes, I told them! I think they liked me back. What happened? Well, what always happens… Life. Ha-ha! Did you catch that? That was a quote from 500 Days of Summer. Good movie. I loved that it was set right here in Los Angeles. I wonder where that bench—Oh, sorry, sorry. Well… Something always happened that things didn’t work out.

Nah, it’s whatever now. None of them were ever really serious, and we’re still good friends. So, what’s the normal age to have your first boyfriend anyway? 16? 14? No way.  I guess I am a little behind. Maybe it’s a cultural thing. It’s most probably a cultural thing. My parents? They were high school sweethearts.. Are you seeing anybody? Is it serious? Oh, alright.

I mean, I’ve gone on dates and what-felt-like dates. I’ve felt awkward spending time with someone that I’ve primarily only talked through text before, had online conversations that ended when one person fell asleep and continued when the other person woke up, become mutual #1 best friends with someone on Snapchat. I’ve experienced almost all the rituals of our generation’s dating scene—except actual dating. Is it really that weird?

But hear me out—everything just sounds so confusing and complicated nowadays. My old coworker spent an entire shift explaining her “situationship” with a guy once. Can someone explain to me what a Tindr date is? When do people “DTR”? (I just found out what that meant recently.) And I thought the bases were already hard to pin down. Just seems like a mess, if you ask me.

I wouldn’t say I’m picky. Did someone say I was? No, but yeah, I guess I have a type, but everyone does—Humor. That’s important. And willingness to try new things. And treats everyone with respect. Won’t end up being a psychopath. I don’t think these are unreasonable.

[bazareno]

Mythical Dictionary entry #3

safari

noun

an expedition to observe a person of potential romantic interest (potential to be confirmed or denied depending on outcome of safari) without the financial and social commitment or emotional pressure of a typical date: I think Jenna is taking me on a safari today. We’ve never had a real conversation nor spent time alone with each other, but she asked to get Jamba after class today to ‘celebrate the end of midterms.’

synonyms: hangout, watching Aziz Ansari’s new show on Netflix, down to kick it, random Facebook event that both parties have responded “Going” or “Interested”

antonyms: final exam review session, bible study, mentorship program event

[bazareno]

The break-up article that I promised three weeks ago

Luis’ eyes were half-closed and repeatedly went through the motions of drifting away from matching my gaze to quickly darting back. They were like children playing in a yard being reminded by the caregiver to not stray so far. The cycle was a result of the combination of his drunken state and his apprehension in what he told me next: “I’m just scared of, I don’t know, disappearing, I guess.”

Luis had just ended an almost two-year relationship with someone he had once thought was “The One.” But my friend Luis had been the one to break up with the girl because those feelings had long dissipated. And at this point after the break-up, Luis was still trying to stay friends with his ex-girlfriend, since they shared many of the same friends and were involved in the same activities. But to his frustration, the girl was making it difficult.

My friend’s fears reminded me of my own sister’s distress when she and her 8-month-long lover (he didn’t go by “boyfriend”) broke up. During one of her multiple phone calls, she told me through her tears how she couldn’t grasp how she and the guy would never meet again, after being so intimate and her seeing a future with him, like two straight intersecting lines on a plot. She said, “It’s like he’s dead.”

Disappearing and death are practically synonymous. And it’s obviously a universal fear among humans. We’re scared of ceasing to exist because it goes against our every instinct for survival and, for many of us, exposes us to the terrifying unknown of what comes after. Each break-up or ending to any relationship is a version of death because one’s presence is reduced or gone forever in someone else’s life. Memories may live on, but like in death, one can’t return to the original state.  

That may sound incredibly morbid, but like my favorite (admittedly only two have stuck with me) Alan Watts quote, there is growth to be found in demise. In each of of these quasi-deaths, we are reincarnated. From an analysis of our experiences and memories, we become (hopefully) improved versions of our former selves. I think the most important and hardest thing is to not get stuck in the mucky mindset of sadness and hopelessness—even if it takes pretending in the beginning.

[bazareno]

Things I’ve learned from working in retail

I got my first job this past summer, and I thought it was appropriate to reflect on my short time as a sales associate. My last day is next Wednesday. 

1. Most people are not judgmental. I used to think people were constantly judging other people, but I’m beginning to realize that my hometown is an exception from the norm. Coming from a relatively sheltered and privileged city, I was very pleasantly surprised to learn that most people don’t care what you do because they’re too busy with their own shit in their lives or they’ve seen worse. (My coworkers are fantastic people.)

2. Kids are growing up way too fast these days. A fifteen year old girl (FIFTEEN) came into the store once to buy a body suit for her sweet sixteen. She bought a very skimpy one. (I’m being judgmental.)

3. Four out of 10 people leave their clothes on the ground in the dressing room, inside-out and rolled-up from being peeled off their bodies,  and I just do not understand why they don’t respect other people.

4. If you think someone should get the larger size between two options, for any reason at all, say “You’ve got boobs, girl.” You can also opt for “a butt” instead of “boobs.”

5. Working in a retail is a trap for the inexperienced because I spent most of my earnings on clothes at that store because of the generous employee discount.

6. People love sharing things about themselves, most of the time. I learned this from both my coworkers and customers. Just ask one question, and they’ll go on and on. It’s great for the average socialologist. 

7. Almost everyone working in low-level positions are trying to get somewhere else, somewhere better. They don’t want to be folding and selling clothes forever. That’s pretty obvious when you think about it, but I never thought about it before. 

8. A lot of people buy clothes just to feel a little better that day. 

9. I’ve known this for a while, but the easiest and fastest way to get close to your fellow female (and sometimes, male) colleagues is to talk about love life. 

10. The most aggressive, impatient shoppers are white women between the ages of 45 and 55. 

11. The range of physical self-confidence is so wide-- from guys who go into fitting rooms to try on hoodies to women who show me their tattoos between their breasts. 

12. As I guessed coming into the job, working in retail is good for personal development. I’m gonna miss it.

[bazareno]

Real quick: Why good writing gives me the creeps (the good kind)

First off, apologies for not writing anything in a very long time. Things were happening. But I’m going to write something quick and rough because I want to keep this blog going. So this will just be a post about my appreciation for writing. Not very socialology-related. 

I’m impressed by few, very specific things, and one of those things is good, eyes-widen, feel-a-flutter-in-my-chest-and-a-spark-in-my-brain, screenshot-worthy, think-about-it-for-weeks-after writing. (And this blog is partly due to my attempts at making sure my writing muscle doesn’t wither and die.)

As someone who leans more toward math and science, I think, I may not be a trustworthy judge of good writing. But I’ll call someone a good writer if his words make me want to rush to the next sentence, but I consciously force myself to slow down to let every word sink in. Someone is a good writer if I read a phrase over and over again, and that phrase makes me feel like shit because my writing skill is nowhere near that. But at the same time, that shitty feeling makes me sit silently for at least a moment to make me think about my own shit, thinking “that’s exactly right.” 

Writing is an art, and being a good artist means the gap between what the writer envisioned in his head and what I read on paper is virtually nonexistent (which, if you’ve ever tried to draw something original, is very, very hard). I imagine a good writer feels vulnerable when he writes because he has to share a little bit of his unexposed self for readers to feel the same way. A good writer probably can meditate for a long time because he has the mental discipline to keep his thoughts focused and organized and composed and intelligible. Because that’s hard to do. Someone who is good at writing doesn’t choose the “easier” word; he finds the right word. A good writer can communicate precisely and effectively, which is ultimately, I think, the goal. 

These are the things I aspire to.

[bazareno]

Mythical Dictionary entry #3

talk-to-text ratio |tôk tō tekst 'rāSēõ|

noun

the ratio between the amount two individuals have spoken in real life and the amount they have spoken through a virtual medium, including Facebook, text, and Snapchat: Dude, I think I'm going to invite him to a meal since I'm uncomfortable with how low our talk-to-text ratio is.

Author's note: This is something I feel very strongly about. I obviously care about the serious things in our society. But genuinely, I get peeved about this ratio. People can have very different personalities online and in person, and the dichotomy is frustrating. I'll acknowledge that the computer screen provides a secure environment and opportunity for those more introverted or socially anxious, but I'm pretty sure there's a study out there that can agree with my belief that the Internet has reduced the average individual's social skills. And social skills are important! Anyways, going back to the dictionary entry, having a low talk-to-text ratio while getting to know someone can lead to uncomfortable situations when meeting in real life for some people, especially when one or both parties have subpar conversational skills without a keyboard in front of them. Try to keep your talk-to-text ratios high, if you can, people.

[bazareno]

Megan "Megsie-Wegsies" Nazareno and Emaan "H." Baqai's cover of "You & I" by Ingrid Michaelson! (??)

DISCLAIMER: We have no experience in singing/ukelel-ing for others and this was purely for shits n' giggles. Enjoy it for Megsies' cute facial expressions and our blunders more than auditory appeal pls