1001 Ways to Embarrass Yourself While Avoiding Injuries

She fingered the cross around her neck. Quinn Chan, the devout Christian, the most faithful, the good Protestant fundamentalist daughter- she it was who now had no faith. Looking at the bible on her table, she turned her face away and stared at herself in the mirror. Her once long, thick black hair had been cut short, close to her chin. It was now more fashionable, as Mr. Quentin said, her Geography teacher, longer at the back and short at the front. Like a horizontal upward sloping slash. She watched carefully the gap between her two front teeth, her pale almost purplish lips, her mole just above her chin that stuck out slightly. Where was He? She'd sat with Cosima, crying her eyes out. Her sallow hands clutching at darker ones, wringing them again and again. Where was He? Cosima shook her head, I don't know. I don't know. She'd always felt this inescapable sense of people leaving , always leaving her life. Johnny had left, and for months afterwards, she saw ch...

Readers, readers. I have previously and continuously mentioned colleges. Indecisively, I must add, which has continually being annoying for both myself and various family members around me. *cough, cough, MOMMMY* JK, except not really. I've seriously been stressing about it and the words: "Best Fit". Like EEEwwwwwwww. "Find your best fit college." "Let _______ quiz tell you exactly which UC you should attend." "Discover which Ivy League is best for you." Instead of TV shows and embarrassing videos of cats and the Jeremy Kyle show or WWYD episodes, my internet history consists mostly of such titles, which can often be more embarrassing than Jeremy Kyle shouting at a poor, weeping man/woman. I have, my friends, perhaps for better or worse decided to post which colleges I hopefully am applying to. Ish. Hoping to declare my major as political science and end up working as either a diplomat for UN or in finance, I will be happy ...

'Cha.' 'What?' 'Cha,' I say calmly, stirring a cup of thick, milky brown tea and gazing into her cornflower blue eyes, hoping she would understand. She doesn't. As expected, really. I almost want to withdraw into my dream land, filled with a starry cosmos and interesting fairy-people, with names like Dylan-Bob and Mary-Jo, and grass that looked like gold and nearly end the conversation. But I don't. Instead, I tuck the ends of my shoulder-length black hair behind my ears and try again, to explain the intertwined concepts of family honour and chai. Which is, by the way, pronounced 'cha'. She sits behind her desk, hair up in an untidy blonde bun, mascara evidently clotted on her sparse Nordic eyelashes. 'Could you explain? I'm confused,' she says with a self-satisfied smirk on her face that doesn't really annoy me. I drag a plastic Ikea chair over by her desk and try to sit gracefully down, hoping to God I do not spill the...

JAYSUS! When I first encountered CF, it seemed like a perfectly fun, Jesus loving thing to do. I mean, every brown person's secret dream is to be a) white b) say the words "I'm Christian" c) marry a hot white person and d) have mixed milo-coloured babies.... #truth So, can you really blame me for wanting to join? At least the second one would be kind of fulfilled... (something is clearly so appealing about wanting to say 'Hail Mary') because the only white people in our school, are a) intellectual girls or b) the 50 year oldteachers (one of the white girls isn't fully white I think) . But, for your exclusive perusal *shoutout to the SATs, which I probably WONT TAKE because CF ruined my life, I'll get to the point* -5 REASONS WHY CF RUINED MY LIFE ^GG^ #Reason 1: The FIRST maths test I took after I joined CF was a. BARE. MINIMUM. PASS. Like, legitimately *coz computer doesn't understand what legit-ly is* the worst grade ever at KT-Blog/jai...

Tariffs can be considered the economic buzzword of the 21st century. Thus, it should come as no surprise that Donald Trump claimed that tariffs and free trade were perfectly compactible, after condemning Chinese steel producers for 'dumping' cheap, excess, subsidised steel in the market. While this statement was politically genius (we hate China but trade is good), it is an excellent example of how tariffs are often misunderstood in the name of poor economics. First, let us define what tariffs are; tariffs, often called import duties, are taxes on imports. 'Dumping' simply means to sell a good for less than the cost of production. Therein lies the problem; does Trump have a legitimate point? Should China be condemned for essentially fully supporting and subsidising its relatively infantile but no doubt burgeoning steel industry? Some might argue that it is totally within a country's sovereignty to help its country's industry; but then again isn't it...