The Unusual

People always talk about ‘surviving the holidays with the family, as if it’s the hardest thing in the world.  But what about all those people who have to survive the holidays without family?  What about all those people suffering loss or, better yet, isolation during a season that thrives on family bonding and being kind to strangers?  What about those people who have to deal with months of Christmas spirit when all they really want is to forget the fact that they are in it alone?  Is it not already depressing enough that Christmas seems to publicly force itself into your face earlier and earlier every year?  Is it not already depressing enough to walk around the mall, alone and broke, and see everything from sparkling, five-story Christmas trees to fathers taking their young girls, dressed in matching dresses and bows to sit on Santa’s lap to beautiful, young couples happily embracing each other?  Maybe I’m just bitter.

How did the holidays turn into yelling matches with my parents, upping my anti-depressant dosage and attempts at hiding honesty behind sunglasses in public?

Christmas used to be my favorite holiday.  Actually, I used to love all holidays.  Love is an understatement.  I even used to celebrate all eight nights Hanukkah.  I could spit out the entire Hebrew prayer before I could even recite the pledge of allegiance.  I was the bright-eyed, curly haired sweetheart dressed in an identical party dress as my younger sister.  The very same activities that I used to live for now lead me to depths of sadness and remorse.

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 I’ve been a smoker for nearly 6 years. I regret that I started and I’ve tried to quit several times but I’ve had no success so far. I know it’s bad for you and I know that it can cause serious illness but at this age I don’t really feel the difference. I keep on telling myself that a time will come when I will quit this once and for all even though I know that there is no perfect time to do this.

People back at home in Bulgaria smoke like it’s a sport and I grew up among them. They enjoy sitting at coffee places with friends gossiping and talking about the stuff that happens in a small city. Smoking cigarettes is a must when drinking a coffee. Americans don’t really do that. They would rather buy coffee in a plastic cup and rush into whatever they are doing. I guess it’s a very European thing, but there is nothing better than spending a lazy afternoon in a coffee/bar with friends after school.

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10. Frosty the snowman

9. Santa baby (aka the slut song)

8. I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus (the aforementioned slut’s daughter’s song)

7. Feliz Navidad (the one Spanish song played all year in a South Florida business…how do they make money?)

6.  It’s the most wonderful time of the year (for you)

5. Baby, it’s cold outside (In Florida, that amounts to 65 degrees.  I think she’ll live.)

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Shopping as a broke college student (I neither have access to daddy’s plastic nor a trust fund) can be beyond heart-breaking. Shopping in Miami is killer!  It’s not even like just Downtown or just “this” mall has the best shopping… it is literally every other street corner.  Every time I set out to accomplish something important and see fashion merchandise, I’m gone.  The mannequins beckon me, the racks become illuminated, drool starts dripping out of my mouth and I start to feel all hot and bothered inside.  I swear, if I could, I’d buy out all those little shops/boutiques you see at Sunset and the Grove in one sitting.  But I can’t, at least not yet, so I scrounge together my nickels and browse the sale-racks of those trendy knock-off type stores. 

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We’re in luck this week…twins!  While these sisters are half the size of their fellow palms, they have nice curves and hang out at the law school.  They’re bound to be smarter than the average gal.

And you know what they say…it’s better to have loved a short one, than never to have loved a tall. 

Not some club in south beach. Just plain old, unlivable sleeplessness. I suffer from the worst case of insomnia. The type that’s so addicting that the reason why I don’t fall asleep is cause I want more hours in the day. More seconds to ponder, more minutes to wonder, and more hours to simply waste away doing nothing.

My mom used to say that I was little, around 5yrs old, I hated falling asleep. That even when I was “butt-tired”, I would refuse to fall asleep, kick some energy in myself and somehow find a way to make it all the way till midnight. This of course sucked for my mom who worked a rough 9-5 the next morning, even worse for my Dad who back then used to work two jobs.  That’s probably why my parents called me the “devil incarnate” when I was little. See I never was that cutest little girl.I was the devil child who couldn’t wait to do the next thing, jump off the next couch, or go up and down the escalators at the mall. I was probably that little girl that you wished her parents hadn’t sat next to you at Friday’s.

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This past Friday, I did something I thought I would never do. I got my hair cut at a girly salon.

With my hair gone too wild for anyone’s good, I was faced with a decision. I’d heard that you could get your haircut at the Holiday Inn, but that it would be shitty. Supercuts was another option, but a shitty one nonetheless. With neither a car nor the patience to go find another reasonably-priced barber shop, I decided to take the practical course of action. I had a coupon to get a haircut at 20% off at the D&L Hair Studio in Sunset. I called to see if they did men’s haircuts, and the answer was yes. I then grabbed my longboard, and embarked on an unforgettable journey.

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There’s that second. No it’s more like a minute. Nope there’s that hour. That always tears against what I am thinking and what I actually want to write. It’s like the perpetual potential of anything, and everything that I could possible write is stagnant just waiting. Waiting to appear on my blank screen on my three-year old computer. That’s how I tend to feel every time I sit to write something. Some would say that writing comes pretty easily to them, that they can just sit down think about something, become someone else. And phew! An awarding-winning perfectly satirically outstanding piece of bullshit is flashing back at them from their computer. I think it’s because those kids are probably freaks. Or maybe I am the freak because I just can’t find the ways to just write about anything for the sake of writing. So instead, I cringe and suck it up and find some way to actually sit down and write something.

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Name: Can Gulec

Hometown: Istanbul, Turkey

Grade:  Senior

Major: Finance and Computer Science

How did you end up studying in Miami?  It was either LA or Miami. I asked my cousin to tell me where to go. He suggested that I Google Miami nightclubs and LA nightclubs and go to the one that has more search results.

Most interesting person you met here?  Once I met Neal Schon , while coming out from Mansion. The guy is the guitarist of a group called Journey … the band that plays “Don’t stop believing”. 

What do you do when not in school?  I’ve changed so many past time activities while in Miami. I’ve gone wakeboarding, I am doing yoga, I am reading science, I bought huge binoculars to watch the stars, I am programming and working in the school IT department… Recently I started producing songs. I was always passionate about music and I felt that time has come for me to show my talent to the world.

How do you produce your music? Do you have any musical background?  I bought a midi controller a synthesizer, an electric guitar and an audio interface. I am using Logic to build a song from scratch. I don’t have any formal musical background but it’s really not hard to create music if you have the inspiration. Learning how to use all the functions of Logic is the most annoying part, everything else comes from experimenting.

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You should check out this bistro called Mandolin. It is set in a 1940’s house in Miami on the NE 2nd corridor between the Design District and Historical Buena Vista. You’ll feel like you’re in the Greek islands as soon as you walk through the back garden.  There you’ll find a white-washed building with blue trimmed windows, brimming with bougainvillea, sitting in vintage traditional taverna chairs at wooden tables, under a lantern-lit tree.

Meals you must try:

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Hometown: Bergen County, New Jersey

Grade: Junior

Favorite Place at the Food Court: If I’m forced, Niko’s.

Where will I be on Thanksgiving Eve: stuck in Kansas City, Missouri with my fabulous relatives.

Deal Breakers: Guido, if you smell bad, if you’re on roids, if youre not funny, if you have spiked hair, anyone that looks stupid or acts stupid.

Deal Makers: Tall, dark handsome…obvi. Funny, Smart - lawyer, I’m into nice guys. I’ve moved on to foreigners.

What I do when I’m alone: dance around in my underwear a lot.

Favorite drug: if you could mix xanax, ecstacy, coke, and booze in one little pill, go for it. …..kidding, obv. I don’t do drugs. This is just a hypothetical.

What I don’t miss about my ex: Where do I begin…he takes longer to get ready than I do, were always late.

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the oasis deli in UC is usually a pretty quiet space to catch up on work in between classes but when you really listen you hear things like…

“i could not shower for three days and i still wouldn’t smell”

Is beauty in the eye of the beholder?  Is imitation the lowest form of flattery?  Are UM chicas entirely without self-respect?  These are the questions I spend sleepless hours pondering.  You’d think an environment so affulent would create endless creative possibilites, regarding wardrobe.  But you know what they say: “Mo’ money, mo’ problems’.

Don’t get me wrong, I am a personal crusader for preserving certain styles; I love to channel my favorite glamorous fashion icons and vintage vixens while selecting an ensemble for myself.  But seriously, the saddest day of your life is the day you show up to an important event only to realize that some other girl is ripping off the same idea that you are.  It should be illegal.  Theft is a crime. 

Take, for example, the picture-perfect sexual bombshell and silicone goddess extrordinare, Megan Fox.  In October 2009, she graced the cover of Rolling Stone wearing a curve enhancing, half-see through leotard with the chest basically cut out.  Fucking sexy.  Two years later, my poor eyes have completely OD-ed on this terrible trend.Ladies, Megan Fox is really two years ago.  And ladies, you are not Megan Fox.  To see, precisely, what I no longer wish to see.  Check out the pics after the jump.

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If you don’t know Imri, you should. First off, he’s got this amazingly crazy curly hair and secondly, he’s one of those people who is really going to make a difference in the world. His positivity is absolutely contagious. So when he told me about Jamnesty I had to go check it out.

Imri is the chair of UM’s chapter of Amnesty International. He helped organize and host UM’s first ever Jamnesty, an interactive art festival that combines entertainment with a cause.

The cause being the Santa Maria House Orphanage in Cali, Colombia. It’s an event he’s dreamt about putting together since high school.

I saw Imri’s crazy curls riding around the Rock on a UM beach cruiser. Imri told me about the 8 musicians that were performing rock, hip hop, a bit of techno, and a drum circle. 

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