In May of last year, I embarked on a mission of labeling each of my friends as a cake flavor (please don’t ask why, quarantine really got the best of me). I got through about 15 people – which roughly translates to 7.84 minutes of laborious thinking – before boredom hit, but here is a continuation of that journey. As you read through, I would highly encourage trying to categorize yourself and the people in your life as one of the following flavors.

WARNING: Do not read this blog while you’re in a state of hunger.

Birthday Cake: The most classic cake flavor, the one that you should always go to when in doubt; the rainbow sprinkles indicate the fun in their personality. 

• This is the friend who remembers everyone’s birthday (duh). When you have exciting life-changing news, or are going through a bad break-up, your Birthday Cake friend is the one that you immediately call. These are the people you can go for months without talking to, and then seamlessly pick up right where you left off when you reconnect again. They are with you through thick and thin – maybe not always in the closest physical proximity, but forever in your heart. 

Angel Food: The deceiving one – seemingly delicate on the exterior, but really tough on the inside. 

• This is the friend who will go out of their way for moments of kindness, whether it be buying you lunch when you leave your wallet at home or sitting at a two-person table with you at lunch even though they have a whole other friend group in the same period. But, these are actions they do on their own accord: your Angel Food friend may seem like people pleasers, but they will firmly put their foot down if they feel as if they’re being exploited for their kindness.

Chocolate Molten: The ~other~ deceiving one, seemingly tough on the exterior, but a literal marshmallow on the inside. 

• In a complete 180 from the Angel Food friend, this is the friend who always walks around with a scowl on their face and has a closet that seems to consist of only dark clothing. Have you ever seen them smile, tear up, or express any sort of emotion before? Probably not. But, the closer you get to your Chocolate Molten friend, the more you realize how much of a softie they are. When they finally start opening up to you in their vulnerable moments, you can’t help but feel protective over them, especially with the facade they’ve put up. 

Lemon: The refreshing one who has a completely different personality (in the best possible way!) than the majority of the people you regularly interact with; often can be super sweet. 

• This is the friend who you never saw coming, the one that just unexpectedly crept up on you out of nowhere and now is a permanent staple in your life. When you have conversations with your Lemon friend, they never fail to bring new perspectives to the table, ones that you never would have initially considered. You always look forward to talking to them, excited about the unpredictable responses you’ll receive. Typically, they’re also very #woke, meaning they scroll through their New York Times subscription every morning and are always posting the most recent political news on their Instagram story.

Red Velvet: The perfect medium between vanilla and chocolate; the two most basic flavors intertwined into one, but somehow create something (or someone) unbelievably unique. The cream cheese frosting helps to tie it all together, a layer of unexpected sweetness.

• This is the friend who has it all. Their life revolves around color-coded Google Calendars and long, winding lists on their personal Notion page. They know exactly what they want to do with their life, and have already planned out their dinner for August 2nd, 2031. When you’re going through your 17th life crisis of the week, you know you can depend on them to give you the best advice on how to get your life together. Their college application process was seamless – they had all of their essays written by the first week of September. 

Cookie Cake: The most reliable cake flavor, good for any occasion and thrives in low key environments. (Listen, I know this technically isn’t a cake, but this is my blog so hah 😌)

• This is the friend who is your literal rock. They are a constant steady force in your life, the one you go to for especially seemingly miniscule events. You tell your Cookie Cake friend all about even the most miniscule things, from making eye contact with your school crush from across the classroom to getting an A on a quiz you thought you were going to fail. Essentially, your text messages with them are just a stream of consciousness from your end. When you’re stuck in line by yourself at a grocery store and are desperately trying to seem busy to avoid looking like a loner, you’ll send them a thread of endless spam: “Omg standing in line just feels embarrassing for no reason”, “HELP I just made eye contact with the judgmental elderly lady in the other line”, “Do you think 17 items is too many for the Express Line (15 or less) at Jewel?????”, etc.

Me? I would say I’m a Birthday Cake, but I don’t have any substantial reasoning to back that up. Regardless, if you’ve made it this far and want a diagnosis of you or your favorite book/movie/TV show character’s cake flavor, feel free to leave a comment and I’ll get back to you ASAP!

Ah, forbidden love. We hate to love it, or love to hate it. Regardless, it’s one of the most common tropes portrayed in romance novels, movies, and art. Particularly, there’s one that’s located on the shore of Batumi Boulevard in Georgia (the country, not the state): a moving sculpture inspired by the story Ali and Nino, written by Kurban Said.

Bewarned: spoilers ahead!!

The story is set in 1914, in Baku’s Old City of Ichari Shahar, just before the Bolshevik Revolution. 

Ali Khan Shirvanshir is an eighteen year old boy and a descendent of an noble Muslim family located in Baku, Azerbaijini. Though he has been raised by his family’s strong allegiance to Islamnic faith, Ali has been exposed to western values through attending a Russian school for boys. He has also fallen in love with Nino Kipiani, a seventeen year old Georgian princess with Christian ideals. Though Nino also comes from a respectable family, their cultural differences play a huge role in separating them from the start.

As a graduation present for finishing school, Ali’s father grants him three wishes. (This isn’t an Aladdin-retelling- I pinky promise.)

 

Wish 1: Ali wants to spend the summer in Susha, Karabakh by himself, which is (totally coincidentally, not), where Nino’s family is also spending the holiday.

There, the two agree that they want to get married as soon as Nino graduates, but they each want to raise their children with their own respective religions. This inevitably creates a slight strain of tension on them, since they are both very passionate about their own cultural identities.

While the two are vacationing in Susha, World War I breaks out. Because of Karabakh’s geographic insecurity, Ali and Nino both return to Baku. However, in Azerbaijini, there is an unwavering expectation for men to enlist in the military to help fight in the war. 

 

Wish 2: Ali wants to be allowed to draw his sword when he wants to. 

Though his father agrees to this wish, it is evident that Ali is expected to eventually help fight. Instead, Ali and Nino ask their parents’ for consent in their marriage. Much to their surprise, Ali’s father grants his permission, but with the stipulation that Nino must first finish school before they get married, and that she will not actively try to bring her Christian faith into their home. 

Nino’s father, on the other hand, has a different stipulation for the two: they can’t get married until the war itself ends. The two, hoping to get married sooner, reach out to one of Ali’s friends (Nachararyan) to broker a deal between the two families. Eventually, Nino’s father agrees that Ali and Nino can get married as soon as Nino finishes school.

Almost a year later, Nino finally finishes school, and the two travel to Tbilisi in Georgia to finalize arrangements for their wedding. However, Georgia soon becomes a dangerous ground for battle and violence. Ali’s friend from earlier, Nachararyan, confesses that he has loved Nino all along, and under the pretense of recusing her, abducts her and takes her to a safer country.

Ali eventually finds his (ex) friend and stabs him to death. He runs away, knowing that he will be punished for his actions. Months later, when Nino ends up finally finding Ali, they finally get married and live happily ever after. Until:

The Bolsheviks seize control of Baku, and Ali and Nino are forced to flee once again. Once Azerbaijan has been established as an independent republic, Ali and Nino return to their home. When the Red Army invades Azerbaijan, Ali chooses to finally fulfill the promise he made to his father in return for his second wish, and stay to fight for his country. On the other hand, Nino flees to her homeland of Georgia with their newborn child. While they are apart, Ali dies in war. 

 

Wish 3: Ali and Nino end up together.

This wish is mine. Obviously, it’s not granted in the story, but we can see this exemplified (briefly) in one other area– the aforementioned sculpture. Each of the two figures (one of Ali, the other of Nino) constantly move towards each other, meeting for a brief kiss, but never truly connecting. 

~ The End ~

 

 

** There’s a movie adaptation of this story too, if you’re interested in watching how the story unfolds in a much more coherent manner than my storytelling – check out a review by the New York Times here.

If you’re anything like me, you’ve recently developed a slight obsession with the  ~ randompeopleof*insert school or location here* ~ accounts on TikTok. (Examples here, and here.) Essentially, these are videos being taken of random people walking down the street, accompanied by a block of text explaining theories of who these people are and the types of lives that they lead. I’ve found such joy in reading through these seemingly strangely accurate details of complete strangers, and so I thought I’d try my hand at writing them. Here are some stories that I’ve made up for random people lurking in the backgrounds of the photos I have in my camera roll. 

Luke & Emma. 16 & 15, respectively, but she’s about to turn 16 in exactly 2 weeks. Their first date together. (Actually, this is the first date that Emma has ever been on, but she’s definitely not about to admit that to Luke.) 

They’re both in the same US history course, where he used a sly pickup line to ask her out on this date of theirs – “I’m learning about important dates in history; want to be one of them?” In preparation, Luke texted his 🥶 the boys 🥶 Snapchat group chat to brainstorm what he should plan for this first date. His friends threw out lackluster options, such as going on a lunch date at Chick Fil A or watching Dear Evan Hansen at the AMC 12, but finally his older sister suggests a quaint sunset date. As with the typical older sister-younger brother dynamic, Luke values his sister’s opinion a lot more than he’d like to admit, so he texts Emma with “his” idea of going sunset-watching. The other day while scrolling through her VSCO feed, she had republished the an aesthetic photo of the sunset and she suspects that he’s been stalking her account. He hasn’t, but that’s neither here nor there. 

The day of, he picks her up in his parent’s 2004 Honda Civic (much to his pride – he got his driver’s license just last month). As per his sister’s suggestion, he gives her a single pink rose when she gets in the car – he meant to get a red one, but Jewel Osco just so happened to be out of stock. She appreciates the gesture anyways; in fact, she’s absolutely blown away by his thoughtfulness but she acts nonchalant about it. When she gets home, she’ll have her mom help her press the flower so that it can serve as a keepsake. On their way to the Blackwell Forest Preserve, he gives her the aux. She plays the ~ there are boys in my car ~ playlist she found on Spotify, densely populated with Juice WRLD and Lil Uzi Vert music; the only song on it that she knows is “The Box” and he secretly is much more of a country fan, but neither of them tell the other that. 

As for the image above, she’s currently looking at the picture they asked a random hiker to take for them, as documentation of their first date. Under the pretense of making sure their photo turned out well, she’s actually texting her friends with frequent updates of how the date is going – so far, so good. When he asks for her to send him the picture, he’s simply just making up an excuse so that she’ll text him. But, this photo of them together is only the first of many. 

Eric. 26. A relatively new professor at Columbia University.

He was hired just last year, which means that he’s only had experience teaching online courses. He’s nervous about teaching in person this year, and even more nervous about what his students make of him. In reality, his students are more or less indifferent. They’re not huge fans of how heavily he weighs attendance in the grade book, but at least his teaching style isn’t entirely mind-numbingly boring. 

He chose to teach Urban Planning because when he himself attended UCLA as an undergraduate, he took a course on the urban planning of Los Angeles and was absolutely appalled by the shoddy layout of the streets and frankly inconvenient transportation system. When he moved to New York for his Master’s Degree, the second he saw the symmetricity of the city map in the subway station, it felt as if the city was calling his name.

 Now as a Columbia professor, he wakes up every morning at exactly 5 am sharp to buy the NYT paper from the newsstand across the street from his apartment; he is fully aware that he can save a ton of money by simply purchasing the digital subscription, but he enjoys making small talk with the elderly man who runs the stand. Plus, getting up earlier in the day helps to boost his daily productivity levels, in his opinion at least.

In the above image, it’s currently a Sunday. He just bought his daily newspaper and is on his way back to his apartment. His plans for the day are as follows:

• Make a cup of (black) coffee in his Keurig

• Grade the get-to-know-you papers he assigned to his students last week

• Iron out the logistics for the upcoming field trip for his Urban Planning class, where he’s going to have his students make the trek all the way from upper Manhattan down to the Financial District to experience the NYC urban planning firsthand; here’s the catch though: each student only gets a certain amount of money to spend on transportation fees, as well as a time limit (to ensure that they don’t end up walking all 12.3 miles);

This field trip is what conclusively wins his students over, for him to become their new all-time favorite professor; years later, when he receives his well-deserved tenure from the university, his inbox will be flooded with past students of his asking him to serve as their doctoral advisor. 

I pretty much did just write fan fiction about pixelated people I’ve found loitering around my camera roll. I’ll admit: throughout this writing process, I’ve become rather emotionally attached to these strangers; I hope they all receive happy endings, even if they’re not ones that completely align with the hypothetical ones I gifted them with.

In a suburb like Naperville, there are very limited options in terms of activities for last-minute hangouts. You could go thrifting at the local Goodwill but the clothes there are always a hit or miss, and recently, the hangers have been riddled by last season’s maternity clothes. You could go for a late night drive with your friends but you can only go on so many car rides before the costs of gas begin to pile up monstrously high. You could go to the nearest Target and just loiter with no intention of purchasing anything at all, casually meandering through the aisles and basking under the fluorescent lights. And yeah, the last one sounds like the best option.

Now, there’s a reason as to why Target has such an alluring feel to it, a real world example of positive phototaxis; as a frequent visitor of Target, I’ve deduced that there are 3 primary reasons as to why it’s the best store to ever exist.

 

1. The iconic Target carts

Don’t lie, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Perhaps one of the most defining aspects, the shopping carts offered at Target department stores are unique to the corporation itself. Unless you’re a shopping connoisseur, it’s nearly impossible for you to differentiate between the carts found in Jewel Osco and the ones from H-Mart. Instead of the rickety metal carts and singular functioning wheel that seems to defy all laws of physics in going precisely the direction that you’re trying not to go, Target’s sturdy and durable carts never fail to glide smoothly across the vinyl floors of the store.

Moreover, the reinforced edges of the shopping cart ensure that any product that you’re trying to purchase, regardless of how miniscule, won’t have the opportunity to slip out of the cracks. Though there are still holes (sorry to those with trypophobia), they are small enough to prevent slippage, but also large enough so that you’re still able to see what items you’ve already stored in there. These Target carts allow you to invest any extra energy into bettering your shopping experience, instead of spending that time wondering how, while you had turned away for a split second in search of toothpaste, your cart has miraculously transported all the way over to Zimbabwe.

 

2. The cleanliness

Shopping at Target is like walking into the precise organizational model that your mom always wanted you to adopt for your own room. Every item has a rightful place on the shelves and are lined up in an easily comprehensible manner, whether that be in terms of color or by price point. When you walk down the aisles of Target, you can clearly see every product that they are offering – there aren’t any strays hiding between random products, no casually strewn items in giant discount buckets that make your head spin as you cautiously pick through them.

Yet, it is not just the overall layout of the Target store that is appealing – the individual products that Target sells effuse a sense of cleanliness as well. Target largely sells products with clean and neat packaging, with tiny logos and bright but plain colors. Even their own brands – A New Day, Market Pantry, Archer Farms, etc. – prioritize simplicity in their graphic designs. Picking up these items makes you feel as if you’re engaging in productive shopping, in that you’re maybe purchasing something healthy or sustainable, even if it’s a 3-tier chocolate cake.  

 

3. The free wi-fi

Name another store that offers free wi-fi to its customers. Sure, Starbucks offers it, but it’s often clogged up by the random business people sitting in the back sipping on their plain black coffees, decked out in their suits and sitting on their video calls. But Starbucks is obligated to offer wi-fi – its whole premise is a coffee shop that offers seats for its customers to get work done. Without wi-fi, much of Starbucks would lose its appeal. 

On the other hand, Target has absolutely no obligations to offer wi-fi. It’s supposed to be a one-stop-shop center, where you go in and get out of the store with the products on your shopping list checked off. However, how many times have you realistically left Target without picking up random stray items on the side? That’s right, zero. Target’s wi-fi promotes this shopping journey as an immersive experience, elevating it into so much more than just a store.

 

Yes, I did just psycho-analyze my reasoning as to why Target is the absolute most appealing store to shop at. Maybe one (or all three!) of these points resonated with you, or maybe you just enjoy going to Target to see your employee-friend in their firefighter red uniform shirts. Either way, the takeaway from this blog is just a PSA to be more appreciative of the Target shopping carts.

Statistically, every person in this world has roughly 6 doppelgangers. Though that may be true for outward appearances (I’ve had quite a few people tell me that I look like Maia Shibutani; I don’t see it at all, but that’s besides the point), I am convinced that I have at least 6 million doppelgangers in terms of who I am as a person on the inside— there is quite literally nothing distinctly unique about me; I have never once in my life had an original thought or idea cross my mind. In all honesty, I am pretty much a carbon copy of the stereotypical teenage girl, and that’s precisely why I enjoy reading.

Instead of viewing the world through my own lens (and consequently, a very monotonous lens), I much prefer to look at things from an entirely new angle. In novels and literature, the author and characters tend to bear viewpoints that vary so greatly from mine; seeing the world from their perspectives sheds light on an idea that was initially seemingly one-dimensional to me. When I read, I’m able to gain some insight into a whole new universe of thought, one that my own brain never would have been able to come up with. In the past few years, being able to learn new things through books has been the main reason why I read, but before high school, I used to read for an entirely different reason.

When I think back to my childhood (many, many decades ago), I would acknowledge that I’ve always been quite the voracious reader. In my elementary school days, I used reading as a form of productive procrastination from my actual schoolwork. Instead of diligently working through my single-digit multiplication tables or practicing my cursive lettering on the lined paper worksheets, my parents would come home to find me sitting cross-legged underneath the kitchen table, flipping through the pages of a book. When they reprimanded me for not focusing on school, I would make up some halfway believable excuse that reading was part of my homework. 

And it was! I did in fact have routine reading logs waiting to be filled out and turned in every Monday, but I doubt my teacher expected to see my weekly 15+ hours of reading. Looking back, she probably thought that I was just woefully bad at lying and was making up the numbers as I went. Ms. Manade, if you’re reading this, I swear I genuinely was just a bookworm back then!! (Also, I did just search you up on Facebook to verify that I spelled your name right, and a very belated congratulations on your retirement.) For my younger self, though, reading wasn’t something that really held a true purpose for me, and simply served as an escapism from my actual responsibilities. Regardless, reading has always been something that I enjoyed, and continue to do so now.

On the other hand, writing has been more so of a struggle for me than reading. For me, it is much easier to make something out of an already existing object or idea, instead of making something out of nothing. When I was younger, I wrote relentlessly; I had documents upon documents of fictional short stories with nonexistent plots. But, none of these ever ended up being completed works, having been abandoned just days after their initialization.

My parents called it the “3-Day Curse”, where any of my writing was sure to be forgotten after a maximum of three days. This phenomenon of losing interest in my work so quickly was often accredited to me being so young and sporadic, but in a more analytical sense, I think it happened because of my love for perfection. Even though I knew that editing was an option, I refused to write anything that I didn’t deem to be completely flawless. Ten years later, this is still something I tend to struggle with. However, I’m slowly but surely learning to rid myself of that mindset of always having to be perfect; perfection is not an immediate result, but rather a continual work in progress.

And there you have it, folks! That’s my (relatively boring) journey with reading and writing. There’s no grand, catalytic moment in my journey to appreciating the art of either, but it is something that has shaped my life in small but meaningful ways, and I hope to continue working towards bettering my relationship with both. 

hey friends !!! don’t mind this fun little test run