This is about what happened at the Black History Month Kickoff.

You all know that white person who just loves to act a fool around black people. Or maybe you are that white person. This kid was caught a few times dancing from the sidelines, so we called him up for possibly the only time in his life that he will be performing in front of a black audience with four black ladies back up dancing for him.
It didn't last long, but I enjoyed it.
Happy White People Wednesday!

This is,

MAB

This is about cutting the cheese.

My second to last class of the day ends. Earbuds in, I head to the L, hop on the train, and blank out on the trip. Finally the train reaches Fullerton and begins to slow down. I rise with the other passengers, then the daintiest fart I've ever had comes out my butt.

This is about middle school.

A lot of crap happened in 2006.
My dad got remarried. My new, blended family moved into a new house. My dad then retired from the military, making Bellevue, Nebraska the longest place this Military brat has been stationed, and thus my hometown. Forever.
It was also the same year I entered 7th grade!
I know a lot of people complain about Middle School, but it was pretty good time for this girl. While it was never Lizzie McGuire or Ned's Declassified School Survival Guide, middle school allowed me to do big kid things with little kid consequences.

This is a response to what time is it?

That's right.
Another vlog just for you, but this time a good friend and Blogger pal of mine is talking in your face too! This took forever to edit, so I'm now gonna rest my eyes on another screen, my big ol beautiful TV. Oh the good times we share.
Merry Christmas idiots!

This is,

MAB

& my girl Nancy Anaya

This is my first vlog?

Sorry I've been MIA lately, college finals were rough and since I landed back in Nebraska I've been sleeping and working. I thought I'd take a little time to create something for you guys for November. I give to you, my first video blog. Do judge me as much as you want. I especially encourage you to find still frames where I look extra stupid, and be sure to share them with friends!

This is,

MAB

This is for the girl with the staring problem.

Look at this b****. Goodness.

Dear Girl With The Staring Problem by M.A.B

Dear girl with the staring problem,

Why look this way?

It's as if you're reacting to words I didn't even say

Is there something wrong with your eyes?

Or are you just doing what Tyra says and practicing your smize?

I can't help but return a look equally as disgusted

Words are running through my head like 'this girl think I look busted'

This is basically why I'm moving to London.

I'm moving to London.

Drake told his girl "sweatpants, hair tied, chillin' with no make-up, that's when you're the prettiest" and I do hope she did not take it wrong.
I've been told numerous times that guys are attracted to the soap-and-water girls. You know, the girls who don't need a lot of primping, fluffing, powdering, and lifting to look beautiful.
Yet it seems like the only time I could get a brotha to holla is when I wear the bodycon skirt and the top that shows a bit too much cleavage. (I know bodycon skirts aren't the most appropriate, but they're so cute, and CHEAP!).
So imagine my surprise this week when a mystery man stopped me on my walk back to my dorm.

This is about fashion.

gloves Top Shop

I consider myself to be a pretty logical person. And logically, clothes should matter no more than to aid survival and keep us from being arrested.
But ever since I could fully recognize my appearance in a reflection, I've loved fashion.
I have my mom to thank. For a long while I was her shopping buddy. She taught me the basics, what matched, what didn't, the importance of having different kinds of pieces in your closet, and of course the joy of clearance racks.
While many elementary children still had their moms take out school clothes, I was putting together outfits by the 3rd grade - an accomplishment that does matter thank you!
But those were simpler days when there were no rules nor money to care about.
Now (and now especially as an unemployed college student) being a fashionista isn't as easy.

This is about my first day of class. This is Part II.

I wouldn't call my life awkward. Not that the word doesn't fit, but I feel it's so overused.
To me, awkward is applied to the small things that have a big enough emotional effect to make me feel uncomfortable for an extended amount of time.
Like MTV's "Awkward.". I love the show, but accidentally announcing that you want to have sex with your boyfriend through the PA system isn't awkward, it's devastating.
That being clarified let me narrate my overanalyzed experience to my first ever class in the Loop, traveling solo.

This is about my first day of class. This is Part I.

It dawned on me while I was doctoring up my coffee at Starbucks at exactly 9:26am.
I was upset that the half&half was empty, but thankfully the nonfat milk hadn't run out yet. Unfortunately the kid next to me was unlucky enough to knock his drink a bit sending about 1/3 of the contents all over the counter. I was about to laugh to ease his embarrassment*, but quickly shut my mouth.
He was one of those people. You know, the super serious ones that curse life when they trip on an uneven sidewalk, make a freudian slip, or knock over their own coffee.
*Okay, maybe laughing would make you more embarrassed, but it makes me feel better. I'm not afraid to laugh at myself so I want someone else to do so too.
Napkins were seized, quickly ran over the spill, and he sharply left out the doors.
Then the thought really occurred to me how alone I was on my first day of class.

This is college.

Yeah Stitch is with me, so?!

My dorm room is all organized and now has that perfect lived-in-mess that makes it feel like home.
My roommates are cool and vary in range on the party scale so we balance each other out.
There's at least one party going on somewhere on campus.
And my last paycheck will be mailed in signaling my soon-to-be-brokeness.
I'm a college student.
So, how is the Nebraska native faring in the streets of Chicago?