iCalvin

That’s the difference between me and the rest of the world! Happiness isn’t good enough for me! I demand euphoria!

 

The Möbius strip called life…

Been running a marathon,

on this road called life.

Been running for a while now,

yet there was no end in site.

An invention got on my way once

saw this satellite device.

Wohoo I could see myself from above

but – hey – look – what the heck

it’s a Möbius strip I was running on

Been running a marathon,

on this road called life.

Been running for a while now,

yet there was no end in sight.

An invention got on my way once

saw this satellite device.

Wohoo I could see myself from above

but – hey – look – what the heck!

it’s a Möbius strip I was running on

(Inspired by logic behind the Möbius strip )

Beavis and Butthead’s pick-up lines

It cant get worse than this….! Rotflmao

1. 1. Uh, hey baby.
2. Uh, do you like come here often, huh huh. I said “come.”
3. You need a man in your life, baby. And like, I need a woman. Let’s   like get into each other’s life or whatever.
4. Uh, like let’s drop all the uh B.S. and like, you know, do it.
5. Uh, get out of my car and into my dreams, baby.
6. What’s your sign? Is it “Yield”? Huh huh huh huh.
7. Would you like carry my books for me?
8. If I said you were sexy, would you hold your body against me?
9. I can make you feel like I’ve never had sex before.
10. My lips are registered weapons.
11. I’m not trying to pick you up. You’re like too heavy. Huh huh huh huh. Get it?
12. If I was the last man on Earth I bet we could do it in public.
13. If you need a love doctor, I have like a medicated degree.
14. If you ever had sex with a machine, that’s what it’s like with me. ‘Cause I’m like a sex machine.
15. If you’re really hot, I bet I can cool you down.
16. Hey, are you one of those chicks who goes out with guys right off the bat? ‘Cause that’s what I’m looking for.
17. Should I call you for breakfast or will you like cook it for me?
18. You may not be really hot, but I bet you like to do it

God bless the Gargoyles

An interesting poem by Dav Pilkey

In a long-ago time, when long ago peoples
were building cathedrals and raising up steeples,
they crafted stone creatures and set them on perches
to guard and protect and watch over the churches.
So gargoyles were born, and they stood night and day,
keeping evil and terrible spirits away.
And ne’er was a creature so true and so loyal
as the watchful, courageous, and fearless gargoyle.
But the years came and went, and the people did, too.
And in time, they forgot what their ancestors knew.
And whenever they passed by the gargoyles’ lairs,
they trembled in fear at the gargoyles’ stares.

And as time went along, people’s fear turned to spite,
and they sneered and they cursed at the guardians of night:
“demons!” they grumbled — “grotesque!” and “horrid!”
“Those beasts don’t belong on the house of the lord!”
When the gargoyles heard these words that were spoken,
their stony old hearts became crumbled and broken.
Then storms rumbled in, and their eyes filled with rain,
and in stillness they stayed, alone and in pain.
But as it so happened, some angels were near,
and heeding the grief of a gargoyle’s tear,
they each fluttered down from the heavens on high
to sit with the gargoyles beneath thundering skies.
now, angels have ways of making things right,
so they stayed with the gargoyles all through the night,
patting their heads and wiping their tears
and whispering life into gargoyle ears.
and soon all the gargoyles did magical things:

They gurgled and coughed and shook out their wings.
Then together the angels and gargoyles took flight,
and they soared through the clouds on a blustery night.
And while over pastures and hills they were winging,
the voices of angels were radiantly singing
music of healing and songs of rebirth
to all of the creatures in all of the earth:
“God bless the rain, and the storm clouds that bring it.
God bless the music, and the voices that sing it.
God bless the ones who sing everything wrong.
God bless the creatures who do not belong.
God bless the hearts and the souls who are grieving
for those who have left, and for those who are leaving.
God bless each perishing body and mind,
god bless all creatures remaining behind.
God bless the dreamers whose dreams have awoken.
God bless the lovers whose hearts have been broken.
God bless each soul that is tortured and taunted,
god bless all creatures alone and unwanted.”

And the gargoyles beheld wherever they roamed
that the souls of the lost weren’t really alone.
Each one had an angel, each one was protected,
and each one was cherished and loved and respected.
And so it is true with the gargoyles this day,
for all of the angels who love them have stayed.
And together they wait until days become nights,
to embark on their dark and most glorious flights.
So if you see shapes in the night sky, don’t fear –
for it simply means angels and gargoyles are near,
easing the earth with their gentle night call:
god bless the gargoyles. God bless us all.”

Goblins at my door…

Knocking at the door,
in the middle of the night,
at half past four
when i switched off the light
came five little goblins
with red satin caps
a basket full of clanging tins
and strange coloured maps.

I blinked hard twice
and pinched
yet could not believe my eyes
I flinched!
Goblins at my door?!?
It shook me to my core!

And then, the eldest spoke!
With his wiry finger did he poke-
“howdy miss, how do you do?
We’re the goblins of the far north
we’ve come to visit you!”

And so they marched in
right upto the den
all five little goblins
with such confidence!
When I rushed back
they told me to calm
handed me some chocolate
and an ache curing balm!

“We read in the papers
you’ve been a little low
this is not caper
to you, this we shall show
we’re your angels in disguise
here to love, not despise
lovelorn maidens we cure
of this you can be sure”

so they wished me night
off they were out of sight
again I blinked hard twice,
and pinched
I could not believe my eyes,
I flinched!

I sat upon the bed
and did all that they said
I chomped on the chocolate
and rubbed on some balm
have I lost my mind
or is this a joke of some kind??

Suddenly heavy lids overcame me
I flopped on the bed
could not think or see
off to sleep I fell dead!

Trumpeting the Trump life…

I’m not trying to make anyone jealous here but I have some very exciting news to share…I’m sure it’s only because of all the charitable work I’ve been doing. Well, that and let’s face it, I am kind of a big deal.

See, I’ve been sent a very special personal invitation to join Donald Trump himself at a very exciting seminar held right here in my town. Not only was I personally invited but I received 2 complimentary VIP tickets. That’s right bitches; Don and I are tight like that.

Apparently I’m going to learn about property investment and how to be a Real Estate mogul. It’ll even teach me how to be my own boss..er.. Forever.

Now, the card only had a small sample of all the great things I’ll be learning but it does put emphasis on the fact that (and I quote): “This is what I have learned the hard way, in the streets, fighting to grow my empire and fighting to stay on top”

I’m not really sure what kinds of things you learn on the streets of Park Avenue but I’m sure it’ll be very eye-opening.

I’m pretty sure the signature is authentic and the card is hand-signed, after all what better things could he possibly be keeping busy with?

Don’t worry, I won’t forget about you while I’m off living my lavish lifestyle and making millions simply by looking at buildings.

*ROTFLMAO

Well…Well…

Something that I had read sometime back…

It is when you stop going along with the crowd and start realizing that there are many things about yourself that you didn’t know and may not like. You start feeling insecure and wonder where you will be in a year or two, but then get scared because you barely know where you are now.

You start realizing that people are selfish and that, maybe, those friends that you thought you were so close to aren’t exactly the greatest people you have ever met, and the people you have lost touch with are some of the most important ones. What you don’t recognize is that they are realizing that too, and aren’t really cold, catty, mean or insincere, but that they are as confused as you.

You look at your job… and it is not even close to what you thought you would be doing, or maybe you are looking for a job and realizing that you are going to have to start at the bottom and that scares you.

Your opinions have gotten stronger. You see what others are doing and find yourself judging more than usual because suddenly you realize that you have certain boundaries in your life and are constantly adding things to your list of what is acceptable and what isn’t. One minute, you are insecure and then the next, secure.

You laugh and cry with the greatest force of your life. You feel alone and scared and confused. Suddenly, change is the enemy and you try and cling on to the past with dear life, but soon realize that the past is drifting further and further away, and there is nothing to do but stay where you are or move forward.

You get your heart broken and wonder how someone you loved could do such damage to you. Or you lie in bed and wonder why you can’t meet anyone decent enough that you want to get to know better. Or maybe you love someone but love someone else too and cannot figure out why you’re doing this because you know that you aren’t a bad person. One night stands and random hook ups start to look cheap. Getting wasted and acting like an idiot starts to look pathetic. You go through the same emotions and questions over and over, and talk with your friends about the same topics because you cannot seem to make a decision. You worry about loans, money, the future and making a life for yourself… and while winning the race would be great, right now you’d just like to be a contender!

What you may not realize is that every one reading this relates to it. We are in our best of times and our worst of times, trying as hard as we can to figure this whole thing out. Send this to your twenty-something friends… maybe it will help someone feel like they aren’t alone in their state of confusion…

We call it the “Quarter-life Crisis.”

Letters…

Dear Homeless Man,

I hope your tap-dancing lessons are going well! I found out today that you have a twin brother, who looks exactly like you. Does he have the same Nike Shoes as you? If so, I think I may always think you are the same person. Sorry for the confusion, no wonder you looked at me like I was the crazy one when I asked you if you ever got a new oar.

I saw you and your brother fighting today. It saddened me deeply – families are the most important people in your life. Perhaps you were fighting over a female? Trust me, that bong woman who yells at people on patios and tries to grab their food is not worth a family feud.

Sure, if she stopped doing the crack and brushed her hair a little she could be pretty. If she ate something she could even be quite lovely but I’m sure there are more ladies for you two to deal with? I thought I’d let you know that that new wave you are doing with your hair? Very Donald-Trumpesque! Dress for success they say!

Kudo!

Alice

That’s all for now, folks!

Folks, i wont be here for the weekend for the following reasons:

• Like Nikhil, I am making a trip as well to Chennai… and guess what? Today I am gonna be meeting Nikhil and Manushi and we might have this super cool blogger meet…

• I am gonna have loads of beer, sleep like a baby and ya… also attend Ratz engagement (which is the reason why I am going to Chennai…!)

• And I am gonna miss you guys truly… will be back in action on Monday…! Till then keep is nice and creative, dude…!

Make yourself at home

“Make yourself at home” she says. As if this is a relaxing visit to Great Aunt Shobha and at any moment the old dear herself will appear with gajar-ka-halwa and tea. Instead, you’ve spent the last half an hour reading several out-of-date gardening and parenting magazines, after which, the receptionist lead you to the high-backed, plastic coated chair upon which you sit now.

After deliberating where to place your purse and bags (are one of those chairs ok? Does she use both of those? Is the floor clean? What about this counter?) The smiling dental hygienist enters the room. She clicks her tongue at you after hearing your response to the dreaded floss question:

“Well, I floss sometimes…I guess. Maybe once a week…?!?!”

Meanwhile in your head you mentally search for the last time you ate chicken tikka, corn or a lettuce sandwich, knowing that that was probably the last time a ribbon of minty fresh plastic coated string saw the inside of your mouth.

The thought of chicken tikka reminds you that you haven’t even eaten breakfast for fear of a wayward chicken’s chick squeaking and getting caught in your molars, causing the dentist to think that you are incapable of even a simple task like brushing your teeth.

As your stomach growls, the hygienist ties a grown-up bib around your neck and pats it down approvingly. The tray of hooked instruments glints in the sun. Probes, picks and other periodontal punishment tools are just waiting to be jabbed into your vulnerable mouth.

Thankfully there’s a television in the ceiling and while worrying about your mouth hurting may seem trivial compared to wondering just who exactly installed that television and whether or not they knew what they were doing, it is a welcome distraction from the scraping of layers off your teeth.

That is, until you realize they’re showing the food network. Thanks geniuses, now I’m even more starving. Wishing you were as cheerful as Kylie Kwong looks, talking about her olive and chickpea salad and risottos simmering in sausage rice, you realize the hygienist has finally finished with her incessant scraping.

The polishing is almost worse, the gritty blue paste getting caught between your newly cleaned spaces, although you’re hungry enough to consider swallowing it. What is it about the dentist that causes you to feel as though you haven’t eaten in days?

Fluoride is next on the docket. At least you have the choice between bubblegum or mint. The former tastes so sweet you wonder if maybe the dentist is really just trying to drum up a little extra business, while the latter burns every last millimeter of your mouth that you thought was free of pain.

Next you’re shuffled off to another room to wait for the Doctor. He enters in a flurry papers and running shoes, his tie thrown over his shoulder and shirt sleeves rolled up as though he’s about to operate.

You wonder how he remembers every detail about you (“why yes Dr. I did get that promotion three months ago, it’s going well and yes, my brother is great. No, I haven’t yet enrolled in those Salsa dance classes…) and rack your brain to remember something, anything, personal about him (…is he married?)

Luckily your teeth are fine, so you sign your name on the insurance papers, book another appointment for six months from now and think about what you’re going to have for lunch. As you stroll out the doors into the fresh morning air you hear the hygienist call after you:

“Remember not to eat for at least half an hour! Have a great day!” I curse under my breath and I wish she first gets punched so that all her molars fall off and then she dies starving in a remote corner of Mesopotamia.

But at least you got a new toothbrush out of the deal.

Time to know the truth of life…

Somebody told me that my life is erratic, has crossed all limits of insanity and somewhere I will shock and scare myself if I look back at all the things that I have done and threatened the world to do (not that I regret it though!). I confess that I have a tendency to get into unimaginable situations and then my foot-in-da-mouth syndrome puts me into deep shit! But who cares… that’s me and always will be me…!

So guys its time you have to decide for me… yes the only time you get to decide my life… it’s a rare opportunity for sure… so go ahead and take the poll… lemme know your reviews on it then… have fun…

My Version of Cafe Gazing…

I take a sip of my cinnamon flavored latte. The sickly sweetness of the syrup offset by the rich bitterness of the dark espresso. Luckily my favorite chair, by the fireplace, is vacant. The ultra-suede still slightly imprinted with the shape of its last occupant. As I remove my gloves and toss my jacket carelessly across one of the arms, I catch the eye of one of the girls at the next table over. She gives me the quick smile of one stranger acknowledging another and continues chatting with her friend.

I tuck my feet up under myself and open my book. The guy beside me is engrossed in a copy of Shantaram. He casually sips his Styrofoam-encased coffee while idly turning a page. With a gust of cold air the door opens and a young girl joins him at his table. Her enthusiasm is a deep contrast to his relaxed demeanor. She tells him of her dance practice for the annual function of her college, her plans for her next years education including a semester abroad and maybe a wild trek in the summer, if she can find an internship first, to pay for all the incidentals. Her speech is peppered with interjections (such as “like”), making it hard to concentrate on the meaning of her sentences.

I smile and think of a recent conversation with a good friend, worrying about her vocabulary. “I need to work on my vernacular,” she laughed, “I mean, I still say “like” and I’m doing my masters in Sociology. Maybe I should enroll in English 0130.”

There’s a man typing away on his laptop, barely audible over the coffee house music, a pacifying blend of piano chords and string instruments. His glasses are neatly folded and placed on a book beside him. Every so often he gets up for a cigarette, for a refill, for a bathroom break. The intensity with which he is concentrating on his screen reminds me of my boss filling his financial reports and I imagine this man is doing the same.

A girl heaves into a chair across the room, sighing loudly as she places her text book down. I recognize her as the girl who made my latte. She works here a few days a week while she’s in University studying chemistry, economics or perhaps philosophy. The free coffee and quiet place to study almost make up for the endless parade of odd people she deals with on a daily basis.

I pull my gloves and jacket on, in preparation for the chill that awaits me outside. It’s not yet that cold though there’s the feeling of a crisp chill in the air. The quiet, brittle cold and lack of clouds almost guarantee the morning will bring the gloominess of a new sorrow. I adjust my jacket and step outside, the soft chords following me as I make my way up the street, back home.

Subpoenaed… Laugh! Laugh! Ver 7.0

Cat (on phone): “Oh, so the police called me yesterday looking for your number…”

Alice racks her brain trying to think of any possible reason the cops would call her. She has been so broke lately she’s considered robbing a bank and is now afraid that they have developed a new mind reading technology designed to get criminals before they strike

Cat: “Apparently we’re being subpoenaed“

Turns out I’m not going to jail after all, which is good because I’m pretty sure that white overalls with silly black stripes are not my colours; it makes my skin look all pale and blotchy.

Here’s the story – wait, am I allowed to tell this or because there’s an ongoing case is it illegal for me to talk about? Screw it, I’m telling it anyway.

One night Cat and I were driving home after a party at our friend’s house. We were stopped at a light and all of sudden there’s a jolt, crash – and we’re hit from behind. The guy in the SUV behind us signaled for us to pull over (it’s a pretty major intersection) so we pulled off into this parking lot behind a building.

The guy gets out of his car and literally staggered over. Cat cracked her window and asked him for his registration. The guy is acting all weird and confused. He was bald, short and pudgy and very Spanish looking. He was wearing a yellow jacket but no shirt underneath. We kept looking at each other like “seriously, is this guy for real?”

He pulls out a bag of cocaine and tries to give it to us while slurring and asking what we want from him. I think he thought we had pulled over to do a drug deal.

Ya, actually, we just want your registration info dude.

So I proceed to call the police. The guy started asking Cat who I was talking to, she told him it was her dad on the line. Well apparently he didn’t believe her because he took off running. He left his car in the parking lot and just ran.

When the cops showed up (three cars – it must have been a slow night) they first searched his car (found nothing there) and had us fill out reports. One of the cops knew Cat from a class they’d both taken in college so we were all just kind of joking around about that while the cops made fun of how terrible my writing is (they feel it looks like a boys writing, really (!) grrr…!).

Since we’d already described him to the cops, suddenly one of them was like: “wait…is that him??” This moron came back, strolling by super casually. Yes, the idiot who ran into us.

The cops chased him down and tackled him to the ground. After they carted him away we headed home. This happened months ago, I’d completely forgotten about it but apparently I have to go to court and tell my version of what happened.

Know what I’m actually kind of excited about? I get to wear a power suit and killer heels

And you know why I wrote this random post which is totally a figment of my imagination…

I wanted to use the word subpoenaed

My Version of Bistro watching

The tomatoes sit on the sauté station; shiny, red, ripe – the green stems holding them together like a trail of school children holding hands while crossing the street. The smell emulating from the oven is that of pine nuts roasting; pungent and woody. As I sit at the bar, watching the chefs in a somewhat calm disorder garnishing, tossing, and grilling; I bite into my warm, sweet, walnut-stuffed fig after carefully slicing through the crisp, salty prosciutto enveloping it.

The girls next to me emit a high shriek worthy of having stumbled upon a graveyard of spiders, or perhaps finding a pair of some torn Jimmy Choos on sale and certainly not a shriek worthy of the mere mention of her friend Muskaan. She tosses her hair and smiles broadly. Her friend speaks to her in a low voice. The gales of laughter that follow are a testament to the easygoing triviality of the conversation.

I catch the waitress’ eye and she gives me a knowing half smile. These girls are here all the time, the high heels and skirt suits at odds with their girlish demeanors. The hairstyles may change; the shoes, the facial expressions, the outfits will change but the girls will remain the same in essence. Sometimes I feel I am these girls. Somewhere I guess we all are.

The men across the bar sip their wine, swirling it pompously in their goblets, watching as the legs trail down the interior of the glass to the burgundy pool below. They discuss the merits of “liquid lunches”, which are especially rampant during Stampede week. They argue about the possibility of rain. The one with the glasses being of the point of view that rain is inevitable; the grey-haired, slightly heavy man believing the sky will remain cloudless; the sun continuing to emanate rays all afternoon. The one with the glasses is the one who will end up being right.

A family sits behind me, the son wearing an expression of resentment and boredom. His mother scolds him, telling him to take his earphones out while they are eating dinner together, as a family. I smile, remembering our family dinners all too well. I once cried because we went to the same restaurant and they sat us at the same table and I was sure we were going to order the same thing we had last time. There were four of us, my parents and their two kids, so table choices were limited. Even back then, at five years old, I needed change – thrived on it.

After dropping off my bill, the waitress sighs heavily and begins rolling cutlery in large white cloths. She has tourists all day; Europeans who are used to having the tip included in the cost of the meal. Children who can’t stop exclaiming over the horses! Outside! Look mommy, look!

She has been wearing her boots for five hours, without stopping to stretch her toes, massage her feet or even pull up the sock that has fallen indolently below her ankle. She pauses now to turn up the country music that can scarcely be heard over the din of chatter in the bistro. By weeks end everyone will be sick of country music but for now it is a welcome distraction.

I place my money in the bill fold, leaving an extra large tip as I know too well what she is going through. I walk out of the bistro as the first raindrop falls to the earth. The door swings shut behind me, and still the chefs garnish, toss and grill. And still the tomatoes hold hands.

My Unborn Child

to the man I will never know,
or the woman that will never be,
I’m sorry for all the times you weren’t sick,
and I’m sorry for the times you never needed me.

I’m sorry for all the joys of life,
you never got to feel.
I’m sorry for all the childhood dreams,
that never will become real.

I sit and wonder of what you are like,
as a man or a woman that may have been.
It seems strange to have this face full of tears,
over someone I have never seen.

but I can feel you are there, you are part of me,
and your safe in your mothers womb.
Your growing each day as does my love for you,
but the safety you feel will end soon.

if this decision was up to me to decide,
then the adult in you I will know.
I would cherish the memories of your younger years,
and watch from a child as you grow.

but never will I hold you secure in my arms,
and wipe all the tears from your eyes.
or see your first steps and the words that you say,
or feel the pain of your cries.

your mother’s not strong in her mind and her heart,
so I hope you’ll forgive what she’ll do.
the doctors will soon end this life that you know,
and a big part of me will die too.

Alice = Impractical = Funny = Stupid = Alice

So it’s been a long few weeks in Neverland. Working and being terribly sick isn’t the most fun thing ever, especially when one of them practically requires you to be high (not on drugs or alcohol, you silly Billy- I am talking about cough syrups…!). Hence the dancing and stairwell kissing – for anyone who was wondering, I did several shots with my friends that night as well. The Piano-bar we had created is like Coyote Ugly but without all the crowds and dancing and fire breathing and nubile women

Actually, there is a fire-breather employed within us, but it doesn’t start until next week so ya.

Doesn’t count.

It would be fun and awesome except for the fact that after working until midnight, I have to wake up and head to my job in the morning. Oh and the fact that I’m not eighteen anymore so my body is all “what the shit are you doing to me?” and my wallet is all “hey remember those bills you still haven’t paid?” See, I’m too busy working at making money so I don’t have time to get to the bank to deposit that money so I can pay those bills.

It’s a Catch-22

Speaking of wallets, have you ever lost something and completely freaked out only to realize that you actually had it the whole time? No? Me neither…

Ya, except on Friday when I was arctic in my head, when I got done work and went to grab my wallet only to realize my wallet was not there. I had checked my wallet that morning to see how much money I had left over from the night before (A thousand bucks- which is pretty good) so I knew I hadn’t left it somewhere random.

I proceeded to tear apart the staff room, cry my eyes out, and ask “who would do something like this a WEEK after Christmas??” and say things like: “I just don’t understand! I get along with everyone here, who would do this to me?”

After my friend bought me a glass of wine and some dinner, I headed home only to see my wallet sitting on my bed.

Smiling…Ogling…Mocking…. at me

Right where I left it after I checked my balance.

Whoops…! That justifies the title of this post!

Almost a happy new year…

I guess its gonna be a beautiful new year and I know it’s going to turn things around!! (No, I am not on drugs, thank you very much. I’m on something much stronger- no, not love, you cheesy-novel-readers, it’s MUSIC!!!) Speaking of which, God bless my iPod and everyone else who contributed music to it. I couldn’t have been here without you. *sniff*

I had forgotten all about last month’s fiasco till I read about it here so I’m guessing I’m over it. Sadly, it seems like I’m not completely over that handsome stranger who was haunting me in my dreams. But I suppose that would’ve been difficult cuz I sense him everyday (how melodramatic!) Besides, he’s like a shell to retreat into- I feel this immense sense of peace when he’s around. (Tragically, I don’t think he affects everyone like this, or we’d have any easy way to world peace.) I am however determined to not let this affect my work adversely or anything else for that matter. (Works either way…! )

Have to take things in my stride. Figure out where I’m going personally. Work on developing professional skills. And yes, there’s something for you as well- I intend to blog more often. Its okay if you’re not smiling openly, I know you’re happy on the inside. And now, if you don’t mind (the most perfunctory phrase ever, if you ask me), I think I’ll start right away.

His Story… *sigh!

He’s not gay. He’s not an alien. He’s not… single. That’s right. He has a girlfriend. And the worst kind at that- a long-distance one. I couldn’t believe it when I first heard, or rather, overheard. He was on the phone with her, on the steps of my favourite café. It had to be his girlfriend. He was telling her to take leave in March when he’s taking it so they could go together. Anyway, they’d hardly meet till then. Who else would he say all that to? Not to his mother. He doesn’t have a sister, and that’s not the tone you use with friends.

I really should have seen this coming. If I like a guy, he must have a girlfriend stashed away somewhere. If not, he’ll get one. I might as well market this as a service and make some money of it. I just can’t believe he’s managed to hide it for so long. And why? I understand being private about your private life, I mean, who’d understand better? But to not even mention she exists?

From the sound of it, she stays in US and they’re quite serious. How can you be seriously involved with someone who stays that far away? How can you pretend that that someone is no one to you? Am I making any sense? (It was a rhetorical question.) I don’t know how I’d feel about my boyfriend pretending I don’t exist especially if we’re serious about each other. Or maybe he’s not that serious about her and is just trapped in a bad relationship. But then why would he want to meet her? To break up? If he can wait that long for that, then he can’t possibly be interested in anyone else right now (read: me)

I’m highly disgusted with myself and his girlfriend. If you’ve hooked a guy, you stay with him. You don’t dangle him like bait in front of other women, just to make them feel bad. It’s just mean. Of course, this makes him even more desirable or less so. More if he’s managed to …er…. stay faithful across the seas, less if he hasn’t. Since I don’t know which is true, I will assume the latter. It makes him look worse, which makes me feel better. How the mighty have fallen.

My life is forever riddled with drama. Not that I’m complaining… This can’t be the end though. As they say, everything’s alright in the end, and if it’s not alright then its not the end…

So I guess, the wait for things to be alright continues as I get back to my work…

As we wait…

Cooler December days are here and to make sure that we don’t miss the winter because we’re cooped up in office, the admin people have decided to turn the air conditioner way up or reduce it at their will (the reason given to all of us is ‘Recession’ ). The unhappy result of this is that my cold is showing no signs of retreating, which might have something to do with a recent spell of gorging on ice-cream. Have to keep reminding myself it’s not food.

Things with my handsome stranger are at status quo, or at an even keel (I tried to resist saying that). I guess it doesn’t matter where they are anyway. I don’t think I’d be able to settle for anything less than I want in life, and love. And if I were to be with him, I would always be waiting for the real thing to come along, and that’s not fair to him. I know things will work out soon enough. Sadly, soon enough is never soon enough.

Have just heard the most farcical excuse for not releasing some work I’ve done- it’s too good in the circumstances. Of all unacceptable things I’ve heard recently, this one tops the list. Other items include- you’re nice, in a very weird way; it’s looking okay; and I think you’ve put on enough weight. Needless to say, it’s been a good past few days. On a less sarcastic note, it has been a good past few days. Have been a happy hippo (oh, what the hell, who cares?).

The winter is making it harder than ever to not have someone to cozy up to when there’s a chill in the air and a shiver runs up my spine. It’s also becoming more difficult to remember the distance I must keep in some relationships (if they can be called so yet). I long for warmth in my life, the kind that comes with people who care about you too much to not overlook your faults. It would be so nice to have some friends around. Someone who would listen, understand and not judge. Am I being too demanding? Is being demanding so bad? How can it wreck your personal life?

To find out more, tune in to the next post in a few days by Dr. Alice, our life management expert.

The Alphabet Tag

D for Dolphin...

Manushi tagged on this alphabet tag and I have been rolling in laughter ever since… cuz the alphabet ‘D’ has had major implications in my life previously (details later on)

Well lemme start off with this tage then…

D- Down (Down as in down down… not just down down )
D- Dirty (hahahahhaha…. now link the two! )
D- Disgusting (I know I am being one here )
D- Disco (The fever of the month…! )
D- December (The mad-hatters month…! )
D- Disruption (The state of my mind right now )
D- Distaste (For losers and hypocrites)
D- Disdain (For this tag… (kidding Mimi ) )
D- Dj (Dj Tiesto specifically)
D- Don (Very Ssshahrukh…! sheeesh! Hate myself for this…!)
D- Do (Do as in do do… I mean do whatever… its December man, so do it…!)
D- Duuuuddddeeeee (This has to be Nikhil and all the cool friends that I have!)
D- Done (…with the tag…!)

I would like to tag my following friends… go rampant with your vocab… lets see what you come up with

Cupid- F

Withering Willow- S

Dont wanna tag Mimi and Nikhil cuz i guess they have had enuf of it..