Sass.

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Hello. My name is Ace and I am a sassy bitch.

Though I know that, and my friends know that. Strangers don’t.

Which is the problem. Also! Apparently I am twice as more sassy when I get drunk. Whoopdeedooooo.

So Halloween weekend I was the biggest bully ever. And the thing is I am 5’1. I’m tiny. Tiny little me was telling everyone off!!

We were at this house party and yes I told some 6′ foot guy to step aside since I wasn’t talking to him. My roommate brought her friends over and I sassed them all out. I sassed her sassiest friend! I mean how!?

The best part…..I don’t even remember doing ANY of it.

Yup. No recollection what so ever. Great right.

Then to top it all off.

We were at burgerking. you know finishing our night. And these two douchebags walk in and starts telling us how amazing they are. How they earn so much money because they manage multi million dollar companies. Then they go on to talk about the one guy’s traps! TO QUOTE. “I go to the gym and only work on my traps. feel them. they’re huge. no?”

Dude. I’m in like for my fries. Do you really think I’m gonna care about your back muscles. Calm the eff down and walk away.

That was what I was thinking. Throughout the whole thing my friend was sarcastically say “ya. really? that’s so cool.” just to fill in the gaps of this horrendous conversation that NO ONE wanted.

After obviously laughing at them for not realizing that we didn’t care. He proceeded to google his name, which
1. My phone was at 8% so no thanks
2. I am frankly too lazy to get my phone out for some guy’s last name
and 3. AGAIN I DIDN’T CARE ENOUGH

So my response “To be honest I’d rather not.” to which he shoves his phone into my face with his last name googled. Really dude? Reaaalllly?? I legit could not even.

I just told the guy we’re in a line and to turn around and face the right way. And after having my back to him for like 2 mins he leans into my line of sight and asks me if I hate him. Realizing that I may have hurt his feelings a little I turned and told him. “listen, I don’t hate you. I don’t.” I mean I wasn’t gonna apologize. They were announcing to everyone in BK that they were the shit.

So then to which he tells me “no. no. you hate me” to which I ask “do you want me to hate you?”
He nods “ya I do.”
So I say “oh. Okay. then I do. I do hate you”
TO WHICH HE GETS UPSET AGAIN AND TURNS AROUND BITCHING.

i am floored at this point. This guy was worse than a woman being sad while pmsing or something. there was just no winning.

There was this guy close by who heard our conversation and told me i was being to harsh. so i asked him.
“I mean if i told you to sit in a chair and you sat in it AND THEN i bitched at you for sitting in that chair. What would you do?”
he thought about it for a second and nodded. “fair point” he said, agreeing with me. there was just no winning.

So finally. We got our food and dipped as fast as we could from that BK. and then just because I felt bad for being a little bit mean. every person that walked by me even if they were in just in normal clothes I told them they looked great. I was fucking oprah after BK, giving everyone i saw compliments!

ps. the douchebag from BK also grabbed my friends ass. after that point i thought he deserved a little reality check.

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Packing.

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I’m basically leaving home.

Okay, it may be for university BUT!

1) as a female

AND

2) as a child from a South Asian family

this occurrence does not happen very often, and when it does it’s under great surveillance.

I’m counting down the days of course, and I’m at 9 days left. I feel really excited, obviously, because my freedom levels went from a 3 or a 4 to a 10+++++. I can’t deny that my parents have been pretty chill over the years, even when I screwed up pretty bad. There was a point in time that I thought my mom had no mercy, but I soon realized that was not the case. Though I don’t think she would forgive me if I ever came home with a child when I wasn’t married.

Back to the matter at hand. PACKING.

Damn!

I never really had the experience of packing for more than a week. There are so many different emotions that one goes through. And I think for females it’s just hell. The paranoia of leaving things, the fear of packing too much, the fear of packing too little, thinking of every situation where you might need a certain item…so on so forth.

On top of this misery for me, I’m also in the midst of packing to move houses, so basically I have two separate boxes of clothes, items etc. you know because I wasn’t being tortured already.

So I don’t think the reality has still hit me yet, I am excited I’m leaving but I haven’t grasped the fact that everything will be different and continue to stay different for the next 5 years of my life. And that it’s basically a new start. There’s no running back home because you’re scared or can’t handle the pressure.

There are moments where I wish I can go back to being four, then there are moments where I’m glad the age I am.