Guess who’s back and better than ever.

I am but for others, not so very much. Just when I thought final exam week couldn’t get any worse, reality once again one-upped me and

proved me wrong. However, I couldn’t help but resist to share more testimonials of horror stories, during final exam week, that I have been receiving and ultimately decided to keep the collection going.

As a quick suggestion, if you think your week is going bad, just take a moment to read these accounts and I’ll bet your change your mind rather quickly. I know I did.

David, Male, 4^th year student, Major: English

“I’m a pretty sensitive guy and I’m not afraid to show my emotions.

During my last final of the semester, I was sitting next to a girl who was freaking out before and during the exam. She kept asking me if I studied and if I was prepared for the exam while going on about how she is prepared because she studied for it all weekend and had an amazing flashcard set to prove it. I personally, was pretty concerned with this exam because it was one of those that can either make or break your grade and man did I not want it to break my grade. I will admit that I didn’t study for it as

much as I should have but enough to get by and hopefully score above the curve. Halfway through the exam, the girl started to mumble to herself and suddenly started crying out of nowhere. I didn’t know what to do because the TAs were looking directly at us like we were insane so I leaned over and whispered to her that everything was going to be okay and that this exam isn’t the end of her life. She turned to me and whispered back how this exam is sixty percent of our final grade and it’s not curved.

Fuck, she was right.

Looking down at my test, I started to cry too because my last five answers were C and if that isn’t a sign of failure, then I don’t know what is.”

Anonymous Male, 3^rd year student, Major: Physics

“I had a complete mental block and forgot how to spell the word “of” sadly enough on one of my exams. Halfway through my extended response answer, I stopped and stared at the odd word and kept saying it over and over in my head debating whether or not I spelled it right. When that wasn’t working, I moved on to whispering it silently to

myself, low enough so the weird TA wouldn’t hear me because he was already watching me like a hawk. In short, I spent majority of my exam rewriting my response so any sentence wouldn’t require the use of the word “of.”

When I left my exam, I asked my roommate how to spell “of” and he looked at me like I lost my damn mind.”

Rebecca, Female, 4^th year student, Major: Journalism

“Nothing is worse than pulling an all-nighter in the library to finish a paper you were working on all semester and discovering that the university wiped your desktop, erasing your entire paper, and leaving no trace of it behind.”

Anonymous Male, 2^nd year student, Major: Business

“I can honestly say that I am the loudest sneezer you will ever meet in your life.

During one of my exams, I got that familiar urge in my nose to sneeze but I held it back because I have a very loud and obnoxious sneeze and I didn’t want to disturb anyone taking the exam. Wiggling my nose and rubbing it with my palm, I did virtually everything to hold it back until the girl in front of me flipped her hair and I got a nose full of her flowery perfume. Unable to hold it back, I closed my eyes and prepared for the worst. I sneezed so loud the TA dropped a stack of exams, the professor stopped everything she was doing, and the girl in front of my shrieked out of fear.

Let’s just say for the rest of the exam I kept my eyes on my own exam and refused to meet the TA’s eyes when I handed her my exam.”

Anonymous Female, 3^rd year student, Major: Health & Human Physiology

“Let me tell you the story of how I had to take a final exam even after exam week was technically

over. Being the wonderful student I am, I decided to take a foreign language this year for the hell of it because one: I thought it would be exciting to speak another language besides English. And two, because I needed the gen-ed requirement; you know, being a 3^rd year student and all, I’m kind of running out of time. Anyway, that’s besides the point but overall this semester was fairly kind to me; however, my professor, on the other hand, was something else.

As the semester was coming to a close, it was only natural for me to begin stressing over the final exam because it included an oral exam segment, which if I do say so myself, is more difficult than being able to read and write a language. This oral was different from the last because instead of it being individual, it involved a partner. Big shocker there. My partner was cool and we had a mutual understanding that we both wanted to do fairly good on this exam so we teamed up and choose a time to meet our professor to do the oral part of the exam.

This is where it all began.

At first, we were supposed to meet our professor, the Friday before final exam week officially began, at her office around five. My loyal partner and I showed up at five on the dot, but can you guess what happened?

The professor never showed.

I know what you’re thinking: The professor never showed up? That’s preposterous.

Well, let me do the honor and inform you that the professor indeed never showed up. My partner and I just figured that the professor was running a little late but after about thirty minutes of waiting I was ready to go home and go to sleep. Not wanting to wait around the empty deserted hallway in Phillips Hall, my partner and I shook hands and decided to leave together and just email the professor with our heads held high. Later that evening, I received an email from the professor apologizing for missing our exam and asking to rescheduled. I don’t know why the professor asked if we can reschedule. I mean, we kind of have to do the exam one way or another, it’s like ten percent of our grade.

Anyway, we rescheduled for a later time in the week, final exam week to be exact, and agreed to meet then. Now, as my partner and I walk to the professor office ready to get this over with, can you guess what happened?

The professor didn’t show, again.

I’m serious. No joke. This is not a drill.

Not knowing what to do, my partner and I both stood outside the professors like lonely lost

puppies debating life and wondering what our purpose in the world. After say an hour, I said fuck this shit and left. I emailed the professor and was like seriously, what is going on. As Friday approached and students were returning home for the holiday, I still hadn’t heard from my professor so being the adult I am, I packed my shit and went home.

But the story doesn’t end here

Yup, I got more.

As I’m sitting at home watching basic TV because my family is too poor to afford real cable, I get an email from my professor apologizing about missing my oral exam again and asking if we can do it over the phone.

Can you guess what I did?

I picked up my phone and dialed my partner’s number then the professor’s.

I haven’t been on three-way since I was in high school.”

You poor souls.

To conclude this collection for this semester, I want to thank all of the individuals who submitted their horror stories to me and I hope that maybe life will just be a little bit more merciful when it comes to you.

You guys definitely deserve it.

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The post Walk In My Shoes: Final Exam Week Horror Stories Part II appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Take a breath. The nightmare is over.

As the end of the semester comes to a close and the majority of us are returning home for the holidays with the hope of receiving love and affection from our loved ones, after the hellish week that we’ve all endured, I want to take a minute to commemorate some of the nightmares we’ve all experienced or simply heard of. I will admit, that during final exam week here at our beloved University of Iowa, we all have our own horror stories; however, there will

always be those select few individuals whose horror stories will top our own and make them look like a walk in the park, and as exams can cause a lot of stress the use of thc products like Delta 8 flower can be helpful to make us feel a little more relaxed.

After reaching out to the student body, I have gathered a wonderful collection of final exam horror stories that I am more than happy to share and laugh at while ignoring my own past week transgressions.

Anonymous Female, 3^rd Year Student, Major: Microbiology

“I had a seven thirty final so I stayed the night with a friend that lived on campus because I was afraid that I wouldn’t either make it my exam on time in the morning because of the snow, or that I simply wouldn’t wake up and oversleep like I always do. Well, it’s safe to say that I did wake up for my exam in the morning and made it on time; five points for Gryffindor; however, before I left for my exam, I realized I didn’t have any pencils with me so I bummed two off my friend. I put them in my back pocket and left by sending thousands of prayers up to God to let me score above the curve because let’s face it, stripping is not a career choice for me.

Anyway, my friend’s apartment was about a two-minute walk from my exam location so I got there rather quickly as you can image. Strategically picking my seat in the auditorium, I sat down and went to grab the pencils out of my back pocket so they wouldn’t ruin my jeans but they were gone. In the two-minute walk that it took me to get there, I lost both of my pencils, hope of passing my class, and my soul. I didn’t know what to do so I sat there like a sad lost puppy desperately looking around the auditorium for someone I knew to ask for a pencil.

God must have heard my prayers because a girl in my discussion sat behind me so I asked her. The funny thing is that she gave me that look like, “Really, you show up to an exam without a pencil.” I quickly explained myself to her and she laughed and gave me a pencil. Yes, “gave” because she wasn’t getting it back.

I used that same pencil on the rest of my exams.”

Anonymous Female, 4^th year student, Major: Communication Studies

“I am a horrible test taker so I naturally work myself up but this year, I did the absolutely fucking most. I had a written final exam and I was running late so I left my apartment with only my ID, hopes, and aspirations. I ran halfway across campus in nothing but my pajamas and a thin jacket ducking and weaving the depression in the atmosphere to make it to my exam in one piece. Sliding into the classroom with five minutes to spare, like the suave person I am, I take a seat in the back as the professor begins to pass out the exam. When he gets to me, he hands me the exam and that’s when I realize I don’t have a pencil. I immediately begin sweating and shaking so I make my way to the front of the room to ask him for a pencil but out of nowhere, I swear to God nowhere, I passed out and the next thing I knew I was waking up in an ambulance on my way to the hospital.

Turns out I had an anxiety attack but the professor still sent my exam with me.”

Brian, Male, 3^rd year student, Major: Engineering

“I hate Iowa in the winter because not only is it cold but icy, too.

I had a seven thirty final Monday morning. When I left my dorm it was cold and ice was everywhere, but I had my coat and boots on so everything was all good. My exam was in the EPB oddly enough so I decided to walk down the hill directly behind the old capitol building, but that was the worst decision I have ever made in my life, like seriously, what was I thinking. Walking down the first set of stairs then the second awkwardly short second set, I stepped down and hit a patch of ice and slipped. Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed some poor girl and pulled her down with me. Screaming, we both fell halfway down the hill on that patch of ice holding onto each other for dear life

When we came to slow stop, we both made eye contact and laughed. Helping her stand, I apologized profusely and she told me it was okay and to not worry about it. When we went to part ways, we both ended up heading to the same exam so we walked together and chit chatted about how screwed we both were with this exam.

Let’s just say my grades went downhill as I did.”

Ashley, Female, 2^st year student, Major: Psychology

“The worst thing, other than not showing up to a final exam, is showing up to an exam for a course you never took.

Was the exam canceled?

Was the exam location moved?

Did I simply lose my mind?

Was the exam take home?

That’s right, you guessed it, the exam location was moved.

Waking up on the wonderful Tuesday morning I wasn looking for some CBD brands  which can help me with my anxiety and, I went to the library to crack open my course textbooks, blowing off the dust and cobwebs here and there, to get in a last few hours of studying, while I also found that A lot of THCa flower can help me keep calm when I study as well. As the sun set and exam was slowly approaching, I gathered my books and chugged my tenth cup of coffee and headed out.

I walked up the hill to MacBride to get a good seat. When I got there, there was already quite a good amount of people there so I stole an open seat on the outside of the rows because I’m a fast test taker. My first clue that the exam location was moved when people started taking out calculators. Ignoring that hint for God knows why, I went back to my textbook and started reviewing some definitions and concepts I wasn’t one-hundred percent sure of. That’s when a girl, who was sitting next to me, started talking about derivatives and how she sucks at math.

When I say a light bulb went off in my head, I swear my eyes were glowing yellow. I turned to her and asked what exam she was here for and she said calculus. Embarrassing enough, I gathered all of my shit and stood to run out of the room when some guy was holding out a scantron to me. Looking around, everyone was staring at me like I lost my mind so I just ran out of the room. I quickly opened up my email and saw that my exam location was changed and I had like two minutes to get there.

It’s safe to say that the Flash ain’t got shit on me.”

Oliver, Male, 1^st year student, Major: Open

“Halfway through one of my science exams, a blood-curdling scream rang throughout the auditorium, making everyone drop their pencils and look up in a panic. Both the TAs and professor ran to him in alarm, asking him what was wrong and if he was okay. The guy was obviously panicking and point at the desk in front of him. Craning my neck, I saw that there was a group of vicious black spiders crawling on his desk and over his exam.”

Well, if this doesn’t sound like a final exam week straight out of hell, then I don’t know what is.

As a quick wrap-up for part one of this collection and semester, I want to thank all of the individuals who submitted their horror stories to me and I hope that next semester’s final exam week is a little bit kinder to you all than this one has been.

I’ll see you all very soon in part two.

For daily updates on my catastrophes, follow me on:

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The post Walk In My Shoes: Final Exam Week Horror Stories Part I appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Have you ever woken up five minutes before your alarm went off and choose to lay in bed rather than getting up and starting your day? The lull of the soft warm blankets accompanied by the whispers of your dreams too tempting to resist? The cold air threatening enough to chill you to the bone and dispel the air out of your lungs? The soft glow of the sun and the murmurs of the birds all too relaxing for you to just ignore?

You choose to roll over in your bed, pulling the blankets up higher and relaxing deeper into the soft mattress, when a thought suddenly conjures itself to the front of your mind, disrupting your pleasantries and thinking, “My life fucking sucks.”

If you haven’t, then pat yourself on the back, and consider you and I mortal enemies.

My life, or my joke as I like to call it, is a collection of these unfortunate moments that the universe believes to be comical enough to drop them on my shoulders and see how I manage.

It’s as if I’m running down a dark corridor away from some malevolent being, my life, and with every step I take, corner I turn, and plea I shout, somehow turns itself around and knocks me down, only to get caught by that malevolent being in the end. However, right before the malevolent being grabs me, I somehow always manage to slip away and make a quick escape; surviving to fight another day. It’s quite an adventure but an interesting one nevertheless.

Which is why I think back and wonder who said college is a time for exploration, finding yourself, and having fun, because whoever said that, lied through their teeth and obviously never enrolled in an accredited university.

So far I have yet to explore without screaming bloody murder, I have yet to find myself in a pleasant situation and only unimaginable ones, and if you haven’t guessed by now, I am not having fun. I am helplessly running around trying to adult but failing horribly at it every step of the way.

It’s a constant game of trial and error, and well, I haven’t quite got the hang of it yet. The only thing I have managed to get the hang of is learning from my trails and errors by applying them to my future trials and tribulations in some mere hope that maybe, just maybe, I can dodge that malevolent being and one-up it for once in my life.

This, by some chance, now leaves me to say that if you somehow randomly stumbled upon this column, for unknown apparent reasons, to seek advice on how to adult, I’m sorry to admit, but I’m not the girl you’re looking for. I can barely adult myself so me trying to help you is like the blind leading the blind. We will get absolutely nowhere anytime soon. I’m sorry I can’t adult right, but I can share my experiences with you in hope that you can learn from my experiences and apply them to your own life in some form or fashion.

May God be with us all.

For daily updates on my catastrophes, follow me on:

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Walk In My Shoes is a bi-weekly column about a college student who doesn’t know what she wants to do after graduation but write award winning novels all while stumbling around helplessly in the world.

The post Walk In My Shoes: Pilot appeared first on KRUI Radio.

I came upon this artist while casually scrolling through my Tumblr feed one day. My dashboard is mostly filled with images like this: 

Or this:

Or this.
Generally, I see flowery art and people of color laughing about their frustrating experiences with white people. However, recently, I saw art that differed from the usual impressionism and abstraction that fills my Tumblr feed. I saw art with which I identified, and art that resonated with issues I face as a South Asian woman in America.

Ayqa Khan, a young, Pakistani-American woman living in New York, creates digital art with subjects who look like her, have similar interests, and defy conventional standards of beauty.

She includes women who have natural body hair, which subverts the regular expectations for women in many parts of the world, who shave their legs, armpits, pubic hair, arms and facial hair. She incorporates aspects of South Asian culture like the mango juice in the picture to the left, and patterns from the region on the skateboard. The image of Betty Boop with darker skin, more body hair and South Asian-style earrings shows a class of cultures that immigrants experience in this country.

My favorite aspects of this piece include the photo of Angela Davis on the wall and the Audre Lorde book sitting on the table. Black authors like these became extremely influential in my decolonization process, and I really appreciate seeing images of other South Asian women reading and valuing these activists.

Ayqa Khan also recognizes the general silence surrounding sexuality and sexual expression in the South Asian community. Most of my friends and I grew up treating sex as a taboo subject never to be discussed, even during our parents’ absence.

However, this piece to the right includes a dildo covered in coconut oil which normalizes masturbation and sexual activity for brown people, especially brown women. The handcuffs hanging on the coat rack also imply some kinky sexual habits, too. This piece includes some powerful juxtapositions of perceived traditional artifacts (e.g. coconut oil, cultural clothing) with sexualized objects, which challenges the hegemony of obligatory chastity.

While the first piece facilitated identification based on feminist politic, this second artwork displays openness in regards to sexuality and her ability to move through these cultural spaces fluidly. Both pieces include women with natural body hair.

Ayqa Khan’s electronic art accomplishes many goals: combining cultural spaces, subverting power, showcasing South Asian female sexuality, all while normalizing body hair. Her background as a Pakistani-American woman provides her with a broad range of experiences which contribute to her powerful, moving art. To learn more about her life, check out these interviews and follow her on Tumblr here.

The idea of “decolonizing our minds” is used in the writings of the author, feminist and social activist Bell Hooks. She encourages us to critically examine every thought and action, free ourselves from the coercive ideologies, and overcome the impacts of structural oppression. This monthly column will analyze spaces and times where and when we can pause and make strides in this arduous process, and also highlight figures who are helping us to decolonize ourselves.

The post Decolonize Your Mind: The Art of Ayqa Khan appeared first on KRUI Radio.

Public Space One looked completely different than it did the one other time I’d ever been there (for a Paperback Rhino show.) There were no rows of chairs, instead a maze of fold-out tables, each with a completely different style of art on top of them. There was a crowd that was large enough to make me feel a little uncomfortable, but small enough that once you found a place to stand, you wouldn’t be bothered. Around thirty artists were there, and I was satisfied with almost all of their work.

First, I stopped at the Work Press & Publication table, which was right next to the door.  According to the publication’s website, Work Press & Publication was created in 2013 “to provide a physical and virtual genesis, storehouse, and marketplace for artistic publications and images.” I really liked the logo of Work Press & Publications, since the type seems to have a vintage feel to it. In fact, most of the type that was used for covers of zines, newspapers, or books that were at the table drew me in because they looked like something that you could see at a circus or on an advertisement  in the 30’s or 40’s. They all had that kind of simple typography with simple colors, especially yellow and red. I liked the look of the work that was set out. Something I found interesting was the Work Press & Publications  Sunday Morning Comics, a small-run newsprint publication that collects comics from artists around the world. Collaboration is essential for any art-based company and the Comics seem like a great way to provide a source of community for illustrators and comic artists.

Next was Jonathan Sims, the creator of a comic book called Floating Bunnyhead. On the back of his business cards, Sims printed a fun description of the comic book: Floating Bunnyhead is an awesome comic book. I mean, we got Floating Bunnyhead (the disembodied rabbit noggin), Armless Bear (the massively magenta ursine amputee), Slicey (the piping hot piece of pizza), and Raptoro (the Saturday morning cartoon pinata-sauras), and they all are saving the world in exciting encounters with villains, jerks, robots, buttheads, aliens, ancient evils, and even more buttheads! I think that Jonathan Sims had the most overt creativity in the building, and the style of his artwork showed it. Some of it was crude, but that was the point. He also has an Instagram, which is a great way to keep tabs on what an artist is doing (and sometimes he posts pictures of a stunning adorable black cat).

After I snaked around a few more rows of tables, I saw a man sketching a really cool piece that looked like a city street. He turned out to be Will Santino and based on the work that was laid out on his table he was a versatile artist. He had a stack of children’s books named My Week about a young boy’s summer that he wrote and illustrated. I would recommend My Week for any kid that wants to have a gigantic imagination. The different pages of the book each had their own style but are still clearly illustrated by the same artist. There were also a variety of prints that looked like they were all different mediums, from paintings to digital to drawings and sketches. The versatility of Will Santino was really interesting.

The next artist that I saw was probably my personal favorite of the artists at the expo. Brady Wulf had his entire table full of tiny sketches and drawings, none of them more than a few inches across. Most sketches were only black ink on paper, but a few of them had some color. There were a few stacks of an (as Wulf describes on his Tumblr page) “comic/art/future propaganda pamphlet.” One big painting was set in the middle of the small drawings. There was also a small sign on the front edge of the table that said Wulf would attempt to draw anything someone were to ask for and would only ask one dollar for it. I really like that he was willing to draw whatever a person wanted, and was confident enough to offer. Being able to think quickly and sketch something on command is something that I admire, especially when that artist has their own distinct style. Wulf’s cartoony, yet somehow-realistic style was really interesting to me. I will definitely keep and eye on his work.

As I neared the end of the table maze, I talked to an artist named Kate McDonough. She has a very simple illustration style, which I like sometimes. She had a lot of work that revolved around self-confidence and self-love, and I think that is very important.When I talked to her as I was taking photos of her illustrations, she told me that she draws a lot of inspiration from social anxiety, and trying to make the awkward things in life seem cute and funny. She also has a Tumblr, where she posts photos of her art and answers questions that people send in for her. I feel like her drawing style is one that is popular, and could easily be found on a Tumblr feed, but nonetheless is still a style that I enjoy looking at when I don’t want to look at something too busy or intense.

The last artist that I talked to wasn’t someone I was expecting to see at all, but I recognized her immediately. Her name is Megan Hindman, and she just happened to be the only person that I talked to in my last African-American Art History class from last semester. It was really refreshing to see her, not only because her artwork is awesome, but also because it made my dream of ending up with my work at one of these things ten times more real. Someone who was in one of my required art courses is in a show that I’m attending. The event instantly became ten times more personal and more realistic. It validated my hopes of one day becoming an artist.

Overall, I think this event rejuvenated my passion for what I do.  It also made me extremely jealous of people who had money in their bank accounts, because the art was so cheap (and so amazing) but I am perpetually broke. There were so many things for sale: drawings, paintings, buttons, stickers, cards, prints, etc. It was amazing to see people be successful with exactly what I want to do in the future, even more so because art majors are continuously told that what they’re doing will never bring them success. Some may say that the basement of a student center isn’t “success,” but if these artists had this kind of effect on me, I would call them successful in a heartbeat. I hope that Mission Creek makes this event annual and that there can be more events like this in Iowa City more often. I think that it fits in perfectly with Iowa City’s perfectly artistic culture.

To see more work from the 30+ artists that attended ICE CREAM, see most of their websites here.

The post Mission Creek: ICE CREAM @ Public Space One 4/9/16 appeared first on KRUI Radio.