M.I.R.A.C.L.E. Mornings

Well hello, hello, I smugly say while twirling my overly large handle bar moustache. Week 3 going strong and your girl is hella proud of herself!! 

Interesting news, I may not have to live on campus, I've started enrolling for school, and I talked to the big Keith! Whoop, whoop! A week of so many eventful things! In other news, Caroline is here for a couple of weeks so that'll be fun. 

Today's post may be short, depends on what my noggin has to say on our topic today.

Miracle mornings.

My first time hearing this term was when I was out with a couple of teacher friends I made from my main school. One of them said that her current goal for the new year was attempting something called the "Miracle morning" which involves following an acronym called S.A.V.E.R.S. -- Silence, Affirmations, Visualization, Exercise, Reading, and Scribing. We had this conversation near New Year's Day and after coming out of a slump from last week and putting my life in order, I had decided I was going to act like the self I wanted to be. My future self.

I got this urge after way too much time on Youtube, the common culprit of inducing self-change, and seeing so many people doing what they always wanted to do caused me to want the same. 

So, what exactly am I doing or changing? I broke it down into two routines, one in the morning and one at night. By filling in my day, it helps curb my appetite, both in the literal and figurative sense. 

In the mornings, perfect Anisa would wake up around 2 hours before she has to leave. So 6am. Then, she would oil pull while reading a poem and journaling about it in Korean. She would then brush her teeth, do some morning stretches, around 10 mins, then get ready for the day. After, she makes breakfast and while eating, she reads a book from the large amount she can't stop buying. After eating, she puts her dishes in the sink, swishes her mouth with water and pops a mint before going for a leisurely 30-40 min stroll. She meditates and thinks about her day before heading back home, grabbing her stuff and heading to the bus. Fin.

My goal with this morning routine is 1) stay off my phone and 2) do all the things I keep saying I want to do on every resolution list I've ever written. The craziest part is that when I  do this, it works. I feel great, don't hate my life, and feel very prepared for the day. But it depends heavily on the previous night. So my night routine is as follows:

In the evening, perfect Anisa goes to the gym after work or school, takes the bus home and after dropping her backpack or bag, goes for an hour long walk. During this walk, she, again, meditates, simply thinking and being alone with her thoughts. Then she returns home, where she prepares dinner to cook while she takes her million - step shower and face routine. As soon as she finishes, dinner is also prepared and she eats while watching an episode of her current favorite show. After putting her dishes in the sink, she proceeds to clean up her apartment lightly, putting things where they go. She brushes her teeth, stretches a bit, and prepares for bed with a book in hand and her phone far, far away from her bed. And Fin.

Perfect isn't it? I read, I journal, I stretch, and I stay away from my demon phone. I've attempted these two routines for the past 3 days and it feels nice. I'm always tired once my head hits the pillow, consistently hit 15k steps, and sometimes the sweet treat monster talks to me but because of the routine, I don't have time to respond.

By giving myself a concrete lists of tasks, it also feels doable. 

Now back to the title. Miracle Mornings. I informed one of my teacher friends of these routines and she called them my Miracle Mornings. And I guess she's right. We don't know how sustainable it is, but as of day 4, it works. It fills my time with things that feel generative rather than monotonous, dooming, or empty. 

As I told John recently, it is now in my hands whether I become smarter or dumber. And I hope you, dear reader, also know that it is within your ability to change your everyday circumstances. 

Butttttt....like I said, it's only day four. We'll see how I feel on day eleven. 

Love ya muchos xoxo

Go Seawolves? Awooooo

 Well.

Here I am, following through on my promise of writing weekly. Mind you, this is only week two.

Couple of things to discuss today. The first being the title of this post: I officially accepted my offer to Stony Brook University in Long Island, New York.

I'm a new yorker. yay.

The moment is dimmed simply because of money talks. Monay, munyun, stacks, bands, dubloons. It is sooo polyonymous and it is the only thing on my mind. 

But also. Subtly. I am very excited. Grad school!

I know, I know, I should never ever ever ever ever ever pay for a higher degree but you guys can suck it! Although evil and mean, I do believe in following your dreams, okay? And my dream is to teach, and write books, and become famous in a very very niche place. To have some uppity university pay me to to do what I love. It'll be hard. It already is, but I need this like I need to breathe. 

My whole life, all I've ever been is a student and it's what I love to do. I love speaking to people, discussing theories, reading theories, listening to lectures, learning new things. I love it and I refuse to let this newly formed anxiety stop me from doing that. In two years, I'll be typing that I'm getting my Ph.D. and all of the naysayers and debbie downers can suck my big fat degree. 

I know I can do it, it's literally what I'm made to do.

On a less motivational note, let's discuss the pitfalls of moving off campus and trying to be "mysterious."

As I write this, I realize how ridiculous it is for me to try and force myself to not be the loud, in everybody's face person that I am. I'm writing a blog goddamit! But I think in this day and age, it feels impossible to be authentic and online. At this point, what even is authenticity? In a world of scrolling and skits and trolls (side note- there is this really weird, off-putting trend of people just lying to lie in comment sections and thinking it's funny. It is not. It is very, very, very odd. Don't do that) and paid sponsorships, it feels like being yourself and/or opening yourself to the possibility of being perceived will allow a lot of shitty people, among the good, to see and attack you.

Plus, why put myself online when I'm not always smiling, hanging out with friends, or being successful, or going on trips, or getting scholarships, or getting into grad school? When did Instagram become LinkedIn and vice versa? Why do I feel such jealousy seeing my peers accomplish what I have yet to even apply for? 

And that leads to moving off campus. In college, it's impossible to feel left out. At least while on Harvard's campus. Everyone is doing something at some moment because it's just not the goofy goober way to simply not. There's definitely the weebs and freaks who just go to their CS classes, wank off, and not shower (hehe), but that isn't the norm. And amongst the tears and stress, it feels doable. Accomplishing things, that is. So everyone is posting, everyone is happy, everyone is insert some good thing.

And then it ends. And now there are bills, and people are continuing to progress, and you are left with your shit thrown out of your house on the side of the street, while some of your peers buy class rings and two thousand dollar frames for their magna cum laude Harvard degrees. Yes, plural.

It leaves you wondering: where did it all go? 

College has this wonderful ability to blind you to the discrepancies between your classmates and yourself. You can see those differences, sometimes too plainly-- I'm looking at you rich, Chinese international students(!), but college feels like an equalizer. Yeah, they're swimming in daddy's money but I will become the daddy, you think. And then you don't. And you're left to wonder simply, where did it all go?

Moving out of college sucks complete balls and I refuse to have peaked in college, but damn! When things aren't going my way, feels like God is being very specific about the prayers He's choosing to answer. 

But I don't know. Maybe I'll feel better in that Ph.D. program 3 falls from now. Who knows?

Well, that's all for today. See you on the flip side! Stay hot sexies. xx

OH EM GEE, I'm getting old?

 Whoops! 

Did what I said I wouldn't do. Made this and never posted. But as I do everything but work at work, something a youtuber - ash callaghan - said, made me think. I was definitely posting because I want to be famous and seen.

1) lmao. wut? who am i but a lonely creature on God's green and browning earth? and 2) I get genuine joy from putting my thoughts out into the big ether and rereading them and think hmm I'm so smart! 

So here I am. Promising to post at least once a week, from either my laptop or the school's desktop, both locations giving me strong enough WiFi to write, edit and upload articles.

So, let's get to the nitty gritty. I have updates on myself that lead to the conversation alluded to in the title. 

I successfully moved to Korea in August of 2025, enjoyed myself for about a month before realizing I hate my life, my job, and wish I simply had the guts and acumen to get into PhD's the first time. Then as soon as I decided I hated my life, my job and wished I was doing literally anything else, thought back to the wise words of one of my meanest professors who I love dearly:

"Anisa, I think you should also consider Master's programs. There are some with funding that you can find."

And so I put the pedal to the metal and began writing my applications to UConn, Dartmouth, Stony Brook, and Washington State University's paid Master's programs. Most were in English or Comparative Literature and I took what I learned from my first round of applications to write a stronger statement and cultivate a better profile.

That was November 2025 - February 2026. It is now April. And with two acceptances, a waitlist, and a denial on the table, I'm saving as much money as I can to prepare for landing in Long Island in the fall. 

In preparation for my return to the Estados Unidos, I decided I need to up my lifestyle and better my habits. Which leads to our title: dude what the fuck, am i getting old?

My main tenet for these changes is consistency in the gym, I want to post on Instagram for the first time in two years and avoid feeling the urge to archive the post 5 minutes after it uploads. I want to feel strong and capable after menopause and I would definitely hate having to fight my decreasing metabolism as I get older. Which after doing my first Norwegian 4x4 yesterday, may be coming faster than I thought. 

As I write to you now, dear reader, my hips are in a uproar about what I have been having them do the last month in the name of consistency. Weight training 4 times a week, incline walking and Stairmaster 4 times a week, and now running for 4 minute intervals? oh, she's pissed off. 

And initially, I thought hey, I could do this. Almost 8 years of suicides and down and backs and shuffles and whatever other torture tactics a basketball coach can think of, I thought if I can do that, I can obviously do this. But what no one tells you, is that 5 years is a hell of a time difference. 5 years and 25 pounds does drastically change how your body moves, and how it feels after the movement. It's simply disappointing. 

My mind feels it's up to the task but my body, gosh she tries her best, but she is growing older. The drinking and study abroad cigs are catching up to your girl, and man, am I in pain.

Now at 23, I realize the true importance of movement. I know now to never allow yourself to stop moving and sweating or when you start again it'll be 10x harder to do. Your body deserves more than that.

So as I stretch at my desk and publish this, I hope you take the initiative to get up and move. 

How else are you gonna shake ass on a yacht with sexy 40-year-old men when you're 85?