Ever come across a person who is conventionally over weight yet happily goes around claiming that they are happy with the way they look? Well chances are that person is lying and just saying that to make him/herself feel better.
So how do I know this for a fact? Well from personal experience of course. Take it from a girl who has been "curvaceous", "chubby", "voluptuous", "healthy" her whole life. I have spent my entire life defending my excess weight. I have blamed it on everything from bad genes, to bad jeans and of course bad luck.
For 24 good years I have gotten away with it. But things are about to change, or rather have changed. My loyal subjects, I have resorted to registering myself at a gym. Yes. I have sold my soul. Sorry but it was about time.
So why did I take the jump? Mostly because of myself. Okay I'm lying. Partly because of myself. Mostly because of pressure from the world. When I say world I mean all the skinny people....all the fat aunties...people who don't mean to call me fat but call me other nice names which ultimately mean fat.
I am FAT. I have known it my whole life. But how do I explain why I am fat. My whole life I have been healthy, been active in sports and extra curricular activities and to top it all off I come from a long line of good looking fit people. I mean even my parents have been lean. So where did I go wrong? Well I don't really want to waste space and dwell on this any longer.
The fact of the matter is that I need to lose weight. Whether it is to prove to myself and people that I can be svelte, whether it is to make people shut up, whether it is to fit in or be fit in general. No matter what the reason is, I need to do this.
Today was the first day of my "gymming experience". It was great. I was never more determined in my life to do this. I mean I have always said I will not go to the gym. I hate the gym. Its so boring. Yata yata yata. Well things change, people change and mostly opinions change. So I think I have changed as have my opinions.
I'm sure you are also dying to know why I started one day before the New Year starts. Well the way I see it, if I was ever going to start, it won't matter whether I do it one day early or one day late. All that matters is that I do it.
I can't say this is going to be easy. In fact it will be difficult. But I'm not worried. I need to motivate myself. And I won't give up, not matter what you or anyone else thinks or says to me. Whether people help me through this or not is secondary. Now its time to fight. Fight the fat. Fight the haters. Fight the non believers. Sounds like I am going on a crusade. Well this is the ultimate battle for me and what I believe in. Didn't see it coming did you??
Well I am hoping for the best. Encouragement will be appreciated. But I beg you, if you have nothing nice to say about this, then do not say nothing at all. Because the last thing you need is to mess with a over weight, opinionated, hormonal woman who is suffering from a quarter (almost mid) life crisis.
Anyways. HAPPY NEW YEAR everyone. May you get to live up to your resolutions and goals.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
The Ocean is Full cuz Everyone is Crying
That explains it...forget science...its pure logic...no wonder 70% of our earth is made up of water.
I wish I could say I coined the title of this post myself. Fortunately Eddie Vedder and the rest of Pearl Jam helped me with this one.
But whats with this year anyways. Everyone is dying. It's like the deathliest year of my life. Now you may be wondering why I am acting like I died and went to the lake of fire. Well let's just put it this way, most of the people that died this year (the celebs of course), have represented a big part of my childhood. And if you count the people who are close to me, who have passed away to hopefully greener pastures, you realize that I m speaking the truth after all, and not just whining or over reacting as usual.
The shadow of death struck first in March when my dear grandfather passed away. I mean it happens right. It's just the cycle of life taking its course. Whats psycho about this whole thing is that a couple of months later, his wife, and my grandmother, decided that she cannot live without her significant other anymore and Joe Black, or whoever her angel of death was granted her wish and took her away. Really Now..weird
It gets even weirder, in one week in June, a whole bunch of celebs that I grew up watching and admired for the most part were snatched from this earth. It all started that fateful day of June 25th, with Michael Jackson. I mean come on. Who in our generation, the generation before us and even the generation after us doesn't or rather didn't know about MJ? He was probably the most known person in the world. Then he died. And a huge part of my childhood went with him. It was horrible. It was like my life was telling me to grow up and move on. He died in naturally unnatural circumstances. But then again what are natural circumstances any more.
With all the stress, pollution and craziness in the world today, no wonder people are landing six feet under the ground, left right and center. So where does that leave the rest of us? Is God going to protect us? I mean all those God fearing citizens, is God going to protect you? Makes me wonder because even 11 out of the 12 apostles were killed or commited suicide. Only poor John died of natural causes, due to old age. Hmm.. So if the King of Pop and Gods "favourites" are not safe, then what happens to us mere mortals?
I mean I can't blame all the deaths in the world on God right. Some people are actually dumb enough to kill themselves, like Judas....or like Kurt Cobain (was it even suicide), or Marc Antony (Cleopatras man whore, not the singer).
But why do they kill themselves? Is the world really such a bad place. Heck Yes. It's horrible. It bites, it kicks, it spits on your face, it paddles you until you feel like crying. But it's really not reason enough to kill yourself.
And if you are a celebrity like Marilyn Monroe, John Belushi, Jim Morrison and Jimi Hendrix then you have probably OD'ed and the world is still recovering from the fact that you did. Could it be homicide, was it suicide or was it just pure stupidity. I choose the latter. Makes the most sense to me and is the simplest explanation. But then I cannot blame all the deaths in the world on mere stupidity.
Cancer took my grandparents, it took Farah Fawcett and Patrick Swayze. Sheesh. Cancer. It really spreads. It's so rampant now I am not surprised when I hear new stories of cancer. Call me hard, call me inhuman. It's true. You become immune to these things after a while. That's probably why it's so easy for me to talk about death now.
Don't get me wrong. I am freakin terrified out of my wits of death. Every time I cross the street I can help but think to myself that a bus will come out of no where and run me over. Kind of like Final Destination. Or if I sit in an auto I keep thinking that my auto will spin out of control and go flying off a flyover. Really. When my head starts hurting I diagnose myself and claim to have a brain tumor. Why? Because once when I was a kid I met a girl who complained of a headache and the next thing you know she was bald from all the chemo therapy. Go figure.
So news of Brittany Murphy dying didn't really come as a shocking surprise, but came like sad news. And of course no one really knows how she died. There is only speculation. So much for our intelligent quotient. So more about Britanny Murphy. What does she have to do with me? Well she stared in "Clueless". Duh. Now most of you might argue that the movie was all about Alicia Silverstone's character, Cher. But most of us gawky, "unpretty", slightly over weight (okay over weight) adolescents of the nineties related to Tai! She was us. The weird one who transforms into the babe. I grow up loving "Clueless" and still consider it one of my favorite movies of all time. So the fact that Brittany died, at a horribly young age of 32, makes me wonder about the value of life and the whole process of death.
Most of the people who passed away did long fulfilling lives. As Nickel back say in their song, " You Grow up quick when You grow up Poor". So these celebs had a lot of money and werent poor in the actual sense. But seriously speaking, they were poor in the life department. They danced and did what they did according to what we wanted. And when you grow up quick, you tend to see everything, and have that whole aura of "been there, done that" around you. So people like Brittany and MJ dying, should we feel bad. I mean because of us and the paparazzi, they had to grow up super fast in front of our eyes. Did we kill them? With all the scrutiny celebs go through, yes, maybe we are to blame.
So why are you even crying? Why am I losing sleep over Brittany and MJ when I could well be the reason for their death? Who the heck am I to feel bad for them? why am I talking about them more than I am talking about my own flesh and blood that I lost this year? I have got it all wrong. I need to slap myself in the face. Everything and everyone is dying around me because of me. Maybe I didn't directly do anything to kill, but I didn't do anything to stop it.
I still look for details on MJ's death after he died. I don't let his soul rest in peace. His children are still being followed while they mourn for their father who we called "Wacko Jacko". Oh and I suppose your father is super normal. Whatever that means.
There is no real point to this blog. What started as a need to vent and mourn turned into an ugly and sad realization. None of us have a good romance with life. It's always a bad romance. And more often than none you get the raw end of the deal because of people like me. I am the epitome of the new angel of death.
Move over Joe Black. Meet Shag Da Intern.
I wish I could say I coined the title of this post myself. Fortunately Eddie Vedder and the rest of Pearl Jam helped me with this one.
But whats with this year anyways. Everyone is dying. It's like the deathliest year of my life. Now you may be wondering why I am acting like I died and went to the lake of fire. Well let's just put it this way, most of the people that died this year (the celebs of course), have represented a big part of my childhood. And if you count the people who are close to me, who have passed away to hopefully greener pastures, you realize that I m speaking the truth after all, and not just whining or over reacting as usual.
The shadow of death struck first in March when my dear grandfather passed away. I mean it happens right. It's just the cycle of life taking its course. Whats psycho about this whole thing is that a couple of months later, his wife, and my grandmother, decided that she cannot live without her significant other anymore and Joe Black, or whoever her angel of death was granted her wish and took her away. Really Now..weird
It gets even weirder, in one week in June, a whole bunch of celebs that I grew up watching and admired for the most part were snatched from this earth. It all started that fateful day of June 25th, with Michael Jackson. I mean come on. Who in our generation, the generation before us and even the generation after us doesn't or rather didn't know about MJ? He was probably the most known person in the world. Then he died. And a huge part of my childhood went with him. It was horrible. It was like my life was telling me to grow up and move on. He died in naturally unnatural circumstances. But then again what are natural circumstances any more.
With all the stress, pollution and craziness in the world today, no wonder people are landing six feet under the ground, left right and center. So where does that leave the rest of us? Is God going to protect us? I mean all those God fearing citizens, is God going to protect you? Makes me wonder because even 11 out of the 12 apostles were killed or commited suicide. Only poor John died of natural causes, due to old age. Hmm.. So if the King of Pop and Gods "favourites" are not safe, then what happens to us mere mortals?
I mean I can't blame all the deaths in the world on God right. Some people are actually dumb enough to kill themselves, like Judas....or like Kurt Cobain (was it even suicide), or Marc Antony (Cleopatras man whore, not the singer).
But why do they kill themselves? Is the world really such a bad place. Heck Yes. It's horrible. It bites, it kicks, it spits on your face, it paddles you until you feel like crying. But it's really not reason enough to kill yourself.
And if you are a celebrity like Marilyn Monroe, John Belushi, Jim Morrison and Jimi Hendrix then you have probably OD'ed and the world is still recovering from the fact that you did. Could it be homicide, was it suicide or was it just pure stupidity. I choose the latter. Makes the most sense to me and is the simplest explanation. But then I cannot blame all the deaths in the world on mere stupidity.
Cancer took my grandparents, it took Farah Fawcett and Patrick Swayze. Sheesh. Cancer. It really spreads. It's so rampant now I am not surprised when I hear new stories of cancer. Call me hard, call me inhuman. It's true. You become immune to these things after a while. That's probably why it's so easy for me to talk about death now.
Don't get me wrong. I am freakin terrified out of my wits of death. Every time I cross the street I can help but think to myself that a bus will come out of no where and run me over. Kind of like Final Destination. Or if I sit in an auto I keep thinking that my auto will spin out of control and go flying off a flyover. Really. When my head starts hurting I diagnose myself and claim to have a brain tumor. Why? Because once when I was a kid I met a girl who complained of a headache and the next thing you know she was bald from all the chemo therapy. Go figure.
So news of Brittany Murphy dying didn't really come as a shocking surprise, but came like sad news. And of course no one really knows how she died. There is only speculation. So much for our intelligent quotient. So more about Britanny Murphy. What does she have to do with me? Well she stared in "Clueless". Duh. Now most of you might argue that the movie was all about Alicia Silverstone's character, Cher. But most of us gawky, "unpretty", slightly over weight (okay over weight) adolescents of the nineties related to Tai! She was us. The weird one who transforms into the babe. I grow up loving "Clueless" and still consider it one of my favorite movies of all time. So the fact that Brittany died, at a horribly young age of 32, makes me wonder about the value of life and the whole process of death.
Most of the people who passed away did long fulfilling lives. As Nickel back say in their song, " You Grow up quick when You grow up Poor". So these celebs had a lot of money and werent poor in the actual sense. But seriously speaking, they were poor in the life department. They danced and did what they did according to what we wanted. And when you grow up quick, you tend to see everything, and have that whole aura of "been there, done that" around you. So people like Brittany and MJ dying, should we feel bad. I mean because of us and the paparazzi, they had to grow up super fast in front of our eyes. Did we kill them? With all the scrutiny celebs go through, yes, maybe we are to blame.
So why are you even crying? Why am I losing sleep over Brittany and MJ when I could well be the reason for their death? Who the heck am I to feel bad for them? why am I talking about them more than I am talking about my own flesh and blood that I lost this year? I have got it all wrong. I need to slap myself in the face. Everything and everyone is dying around me because of me. Maybe I didn't directly do anything to kill, but I didn't do anything to stop it.
I still look for details on MJ's death after he died. I don't let his soul rest in peace. His children are still being followed while they mourn for their father who we called "Wacko Jacko". Oh and I suppose your father is super normal. Whatever that means.
There is no real point to this blog. What started as a need to vent and mourn turned into an ugly and sad realization. None of us have a good romance with life. It's always a bad romance. And more often than none you get the raw end of the deal because of people like me. I am the epitome of the new angel of death.
Move over Joe Black. Meet Shag Da Intern.
Monday, December 14, 2009
The Truth About Dogs- The Telugu/Muslim Girl Chronicles
It bothers me that there is so much wrong with the world. I mean we keep saying look at the bright side, but with all this wrong fogging up the air, it's hard to find the right and bright part. It's all thanks to the dogs.
I don't mean the furry canine creatures who are known to be man's best friend. I am talking about man and at times wo(man), but mostly man. No offense to the furry creatures. Just embracing the 21st century lingo.
So I took this personality test today and it turns out I am a type 6 personality. Here is what that means:
"Sixes need security and they look for that security in loyalty to someone or something outside themselves. They want boundaries within which to operate, rules to follow, an authority figure to whom they can give their allegiance. The rules or structure reduce uncertainty, as does loyalty. Because they are so dependent on the expectations of others, they live with a greater amount of anxiety than other types. Sixes are sensitive to the possibility of worst case outcomes and so tend to imagine the worst, without realizing that they have not paid equal attention to imagining the best"- http://www.personalityonline.com
So maybe I am a schmuck for taking a personality quiz in the first place, but I really had to see where I fit in this bad bad world. I mean I feel disgusted looking at the things we talk about on the news. Sometimes when I hear certain things and when I when I experience certain things, my anger and sadness bring out the Telugu and Muslim in me. No both are not directly related to one another, but they are related to me.
So this whole Telengana issue has been bombarding our airwaves for the past two weeks, thanks to Mr. KCR's fast unto death drama. Well it seems to have worked because the Government of India has given into this suicidal decision. So the bifurification of Andhra Pradesh might happen. That's great. My whole sense of already distorted belonging will just get further fragmented. Yippie. Partisan crooky politics really seems to be paying off eh?
Someone asked me...someone I'd rather not mention or think about..asked me..what do you care about the separation. You have nothing to do with Andhra. I blew a fuse. I have everything to do with Andhra. I was born in coastal Andhra, in a town called Nellore. You probably get your rice, sugar or cultured prawns from my ancestors fields. If not, you or someone you are remotely or distantly related to lives in one my families many owned flats or houses in Hyderabad. Sorry for being a narcissistic and obsessively compulsive Telugu extremist, but when the s*it hits the fan, the s*it really hits the fan, and I have everything to do with Andhra, and that too a united one. BIATCH. no. DOG.
We cried foul when the foreigners of the British Raj decided to deplete our resources, oppress and discriminate against us. But when our own "brothers" do it that's unity of economics? Wow. What a world we live in. That's the truth about dogs. Hate others for doing it, but pat ourselves on the back for doing it to our own.
It's not surprising then to see that Mayawati has decided to pitch for a separate Poorvanchal. I believe this woman is going to be the next female Prime Minister of India. Just a gut feeling, but that's a different story. She isn't the only one who is going after the separatist prize. Kashmir wants to be it's own country, the Sikhs want a Khalistan and the otherwise rural and agricultural region of Coorg wants its own state. The buck doesn't stop there. But take a minute to ponder about something. With all these regional issues and interests taking precedence over national issues, aren't we looking towards the disintegration of the nation? Yes. Well we are. Sorry. But what to do? That's the truth about Dogs.
So the other day when I was coming back from Pune to Bangalore, after the bestest day of my life (cough cough: convocation), I was confronted with this situation of sorts. So the lady at the check in counter decides that my name sounds too Muslim for her. Wow go figure. Anyways I didn't know that. So I hand her mine and my two other friends flight info so that she can issue us our boarding passes. My two friends have very Hindu, and essentially Indian sounding names. Doesn't matter that one name rhymes with Hippy and the other one with Party. Whatever. So she hands over their boarding passes, but takes a good ten minutes to hand over mine. Coincidence. Maybe. Deliberate. Maybe. Prejudice. Maybe.
Now if that wasn't silly enough (I mean silly enough to put my I'm-agnostic-and-have-no-identity-to-relate-with self back into place), then I had to deal with a doctor pointing out my supposedly Muslim traits. I go to him with a excessive regurgitation problem and he tells me, "Your Muslim right?", before I can answer and explain myself, he says "Stop eating oily food". I could have screamed right there and then had it not been for my otherwise composed (and weak) self. Thanks Doc for pointing out my Muslimy oily food eating behavior, that I was not aware of. A real eye opener to say the least. An ode to the Dogs.
So yes. Behind my I-am-a-global-citizen exterior lies a Telugu and Muslim child who is proud of her roots. Yes my roots. My dog eat dog roots. My its a dogs world roots. My all dogs go to heaven roots. Damn. It's a Dogs world.
It wasn't a case of mistaken identity. I mean I do have a very Muslim sounding name. And whether I like it or not I have been heavily influenced by the ideologies of Islam and Muslims. But Muslims are not bad, they are not all terrorists and they don't only eat oily food. Get over your Islamophobia and learn more about the intricacies of the religion. I didn't coin the term. No. The dogs did.
Kofi Annan said "When the world is compelled to coin a new term to take account of increasingly widespread bigotry, that is a sad and troubling development. Such is the case with Islamophobia"
Yes. Its is a sad and troubling development, just like it is a sad and troubling world. Maybe there is a lot that has gone wrong with the Islamic world. But we aren't doing anything to make it better. Obama ordered more troops into Afghanistan, a move to remove the remnants of any war I believe.
Dogs need to learn to separate the religion from the followers. To separate Islam from the Muslims.
So that's it. I am tired of being seen as the national other. Whether it is as a Muslim, as an Andhraite, as a girl.
I leave you with my interpretation or rather my re-creation of the "I'm Sandra Dee" song in Grease.
Hey I never claimed to be a mad lyrical genius or a poetess extraordinaire.
I don't mean the furry canine creatures who are known to be man's best friend. I am talking about man and at times wo(man), but mostly man. No offense to the furry creatures. Just embracing the 21st century lingo.
So I took this personality test today and it turns out I am a type 6 personality. Here is what that means:
"Sixes need security and they look for that security in loyalty to someone or something outside themselves. They want boundaries within which to operate, rules to follow, an authority figure to whom they can give their allegiance. The rules or structure reduce uncertainty, as does loyalty. Because they are so dependent on the expectations of others, they live with a greater amount of anxiety than other types. Sixes are sensitive to the possibility of worst case outcomes and so tend to imagine the worst, without realizing that they have not paid equal attention to imagining the best"- http://www.personalityonline.com
So maybe I am a schmuck for taking a personality quiz in the first place, but I really had to see where I fit in this bad bad world. I mean I feel disgusted looking at the things we talk about on the news. Sometimes when I hear certain things and when I when I experience certain things, my anger and sadness bring out the Telugu and Muslim in me. No both are not directly related to one another, but they are related to me.
So this whole Telengana issue has been bombarding our airwaves for the past two weeks, thanks to Mr. KCR's fast unto death drama. Well it seems to have worked because the Government of India has given into this suicidal decision. So the bifurification of Andhra Pradesh might happen. That's great. My whole sense of already distorted belonging will just get further fragmented. Yippie. Partisan crooky politics really seems to be paying off eh?
Someone asked me...someone I'd rather not mention or think about..asked me..what do you care about the separation. You have nothing to do with Andhra. I blew a fuse. I have everything to do with Andhra. I was born in coastal Andhra, in a town called Nellore. You probably get your rice, sugar or cultured prawns from my ancestors fields. If not, you or someone you are remotely or distantly related to lives in one my families many owned flats or houses in Hyderabad. Sorry for being a narcissistic and obsessively compulsive Telugu extremist, but when the s*it hits the fan, the s*it really hits the fan, and I have everything to do with Andhra, and that too a united one. BIATCH. no. DOG.
We cried foul when the foreigners of the British Raj decided to deplete our resources, oppress and discriminate against us. But when our own "brothers" do it that's unity of economics? Wow. What a world we live in. That's the truth about dogs. Hate others for doing it, but pat ourselves on the back for doing it to our own.
It's not surprising then to see that Mayawati has decided to pitch for a separate Poorvanchal. I believe this woman is going to be the next female Prime Minister of India. Just a gut feeling, but that's a different story. She isn't the only one who is going after the separatist prize. Kashmir wants to be it's own country, the Sikhs want a Khalistan and the otherwise rural and agricultural region of Coorg wants its own state. The buck doesn't stop there. But take a minute to ponder about something. With all these regional issues and interests taking precedence over national issues, aren't we looking towards the disintegration of the nation? Yes. Well we are. Sorry. But what to do? That's the truth about Dogs.
So the other day when I was coming back from Pune to Bangalore, after the bestest day of my life (cough cough: convocation), I was confronted with this situation of sorts. So the lady at the check in counter decides that my name sounds too Muslim for her. Wow go figure. Anyways I didn't know that. So I hand her mine and my two other friends flight info so that she can issue us our boarding passes. My two friends have very Hindu, and essentially Indian sounding names. Doesn't matter that one name rhymes with Hippy and the other one with Party. Whatever. So she hands over their boarding passes, but takes a good ten minutes to hand over mine. Coincidence. Maybe. Deliberate. Maybe. Prejudice. Maybe.
Now if that wasn't silly enough (I mean silly enough to put my I'm-agnostic-and-have-no-identity-to-relate-with self back into place), then I had to deal with a doctor pointing out my supposedly Muslim traits. I go to him with a excessive regurgitation problem and he tells me, "Your Muslim right?", before I can answer and explain myself, he says "Stop eating oily food". I could have screamed right there and then had it not been for my otherwise composed (and weak) self. Thanks Doc for pointing out my Muslimy oily food eating behavior, that I was not aware of. A real eye opener to say the least. An ode to the Dogs.
So yes. Behind my I-am-a-global-citizen exterior lies a Telugu and Muslim child who is proud of her roots. Yes my roots. My dog eat dog roots. My its a dogs world roots. My all dogs go to heaven roots. Damn. It's a Dogs world.
It wasn't a case of mistaken identity. I mean I do have a very Muslim sounding name. And whether I like it or not I have been heavily influenced by the ideologies of Islam and Muslims. But Muslims are not bad, they are not all terrorists and they don't only eat oily food. Get over your Islamophobia and learn more about the intricacies of the religion. I didn't coin the term. No. The dogs did.
Kofi Annan said "When the world is compelled to coin a new term to take account of increasingly widespread bigotry, that is a sad and troubling development. Such is the case with Islamophobia"
Yes. Its is a sad and troubling development, just like it is a sad and troubling world. Maybe there is a lot that has gone wrong with the Islamic world. But we aren't doing anything to make it better. Obama ordered more troops into Afghanistan, a move to remove the remnants of any war I believe.
Dogs need to learn to separate the religion from the followers. To separate Islam from the Muslims.
So that's it. I am tired of being seen as the national other. Whether it is as a Muslim, as an Andhraite, as a girl.
I leave you with my interpretation or rather my re-creation of the "I'm Sandra Dee" song in Grease.
Look at me, I'm Shagufta Harita Reddy Ahmed, lousy with familiarity
I get all red because you make me feel dead, and after all I'm just me
Watch it, hey, I'm Doris Day, I was not brought up that way
Won't come across me fighting in the streets being mean
Because I walk around swearing to be oh soo clean
I don't drink or swear, I won't rat my hair,
I get ill from one cigarette
Keep your filthy paws off my silky drawers.
Because you're a dog , don't make me call a lawyer
All you dogs, I know what you wanna do
Piss me off, because I'm too Muslim or Telugu for you,
You got your crust, I'm no object of lust,
I'm just plain me,
Dogs, let me be, keep that pelvis, hate, prejudice far from me
Just keep your cool, now you're starting to drool
Hey dog, I'm ME
I get all red because you make me feel dead, and after all I'm just me
Watch it, hey, I'm Doris Day, I was not brought up that way
Won't come across me fighting in the streets being mean
Because I walk around swearing to be oh soo clean
I don't drink or swear, I won't rat my hair,
I get ill from one cigarette
Keep your filthy paws off my silky drawers.
Because you're a dog , don't make me call a lawyer
All you dogs, I know what you wanna do
Piss me off, because I'm too Muslim or Telugu for you,
You got your crust, I'm no object of lust,
I'm just plain me,
Dogs, let me be, keep that pelvis, hate, prejudice far from me
Just keep your cool, now you're starting to drool
Hey dog, I'm ME
Hey I never claimed to be a mad lyrical genius or a poetess extraordinaire.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
A Victim of Character Assasination
Save me...for I have been victimized by ruthless mortals who have scarred me and branded me with everything but the scarlet letter. I am at no fault. I am innocent. I am a victim of character assassination.
I was not aware that one could die such a horrible death. Its worse than the kind where you are permanently ejected from this world. It is the kind where you are murdered and then told to stick around and face the aftermath.
29 years ago, on this day, John Lennon was assassinated by Mark David Chapman in front of his own house. Some might say that he was lucky enough to die in front of his own house, others might say that it was a tragedy that the world will never forget and will never let the generations to come forget. Right.
But Lennon like JFK, Rajiv Gandhi, Abraham Lincoln, Tupac, Martin Luther King, Malcolm X and Mahatma himself were of the luckier kind. This is not to say that their deaths went unnoticed or that it was fair for them to die, to be killed, to be stripped of the life that was meant to be lived for longer. They died. Doesn't matter how, where or under what circumstances, but they died. Just like that.
So yes maybe we can feel sorry for them because they were more or less young and had a full life ahead of them, but I can proudly claim that they are in a place where no one can harm them. I'm not specifying whether they are in heaven or in the lake of fire where all bad people go when they die. That's a whole other argument.
Granted that their deaths may have been painful and excruciating on themselves and the people around them. Assassinations are usually like that right. A public and prominent figure is killed without a fair warning, or so we think.
So that's an assassination, but what is character assassination or CharAss? does it only apply to eminent and prominent individuals? What about us lesser mortals who suffer at the hands of malicious gossip and slandering lies. What do we do? Who will listen to us or feel bad for us?
Unlike an assassination, CharAss does not happen only once to us. It is a recurring menace that never leaves. It happens to more or less everyone but some people just get the raw end of the deal. CharAss does not only apply to those douche bags who do wrong, feign ignorance to only come out and admit their wrong doing. Are you listening Bill, Chris, Tiger and Roman?
CharAss applies to you and me, people who are innocent till proven guilty. CharAss is fatal and painful. It tears us apart and is so potent that if consumed in large doses, can lead to hallucination and actual belief of the tale. Keep calling someone a terrorist, slut or murderer (even if not), that person may just start believing it. It's so easy to judge isn't it. In fact, it's frighteningly enjoyable and relieving. So as long as you are CharAssing someone else, you are out of the radar and safe from it. But not for long.
Women have been subjected to CharAss for the longest time. The Scarlet Letter. Heard of it? Well it's not a bitch, it''s definitely a bastard. Has to be male. I'm not a puritan and I don't encourage infidelity, but if you did it then you pay for it. But if you didn't do it then you shouldn't have to suffer because of it. And if you did it and everyone else is also doing it then it cant be a sin anymore. Whats wrong in searching for the pure moral blossom? I don't know if it exists.
Men have also been subjected to CharAss. Take OJ Simpson. The man is anything but innocent, but he was proven not guilty. He is guilty of beating up his wife and abusing her, but did he kill Nicole? Well the courts and jury members said no. I guess we will never really know. He is running Scot free. Good for him right? Wrong, because even though he was released from judicial custody almost a decade ago, he has died many deaths since, CharAss deaths that is. He has been branded with a capital M for Murder.
What about Michael Jackson? He died physically a few months ago after an alleged OD, but while he was alive he was CharAssed continuously. Why? Because he was supposedly a pedophile and obsessive and compulsive cosmetic surgery recipient. Oh snaps. He died before he Od'ed. We, the media, his frenemies, his rivals, his fans all led to his actual death. Maybe we helped put the poor guy out of his misery. But we are left here to deal with our own troubles and we don't care to think about his poor children who were probably just as tormented as he himself was.
In her 2007 hit song, "Piece of Me", Britney Spears talks about CharAss as best as she could. In a electro poppy take-me-seriously-because-i-am-serious song. She sings or lip syncs:
I'm Miss American Dream since I was 17
Don't matter if I step on the scene
Or sneak away to the Philippines
They're still gonna put pictures of my derriere in the magazine
You want a piece of me?
I'm Mrs. Lifestyles of the rich and famous
I'm Mrs. Oh my God that Britney's Shameless
I'm Mrs. Extra! Extra! this just in
I'm Mrs. she's too big now she's too thin
You want a piece of me
I'm Mrs. 'You want a piece of me?'
Tryin' and pissin' me off
Well get in line with the paparazzi
Who's flippin' me off
Hopin' I'll resort to some havoc
And end up settlin' in court
I'm Mrs. 'Most likely to get on the TV for strippin' on the streets'
When getting the groceries, no, for real..
Are you kidding me?
So did I really have to resort to using a Britney Spears song to talk about how pathetic we are, about how low we are, about how utterly and disgustingly heartless we are to go and talk smack about anyone and everyone, regardless of whether we know the person or not. Yes. I did need to use her as an example.
Why stop at her. What about my favourite feminist philosopher, Lady Gaga. Do you even know her real name? Well you ignorant karma chameleons, its Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta, and yes she likes women and men, which makes her bisexual and not a hermaphrodite. And do you even blame her for liking women more than men. Are there even any men left after Clark Gable or John Wayne? No? Didn't think so.
And what about me? Your own dear precious ShagDaIntern. Have I been victim to the evil ways of the CharAssing public. Of course. What kind of celebutante would I be if I hadn't. I have been a slut, I have been a whore, I have been a cheater, I have been a stealer, I have been a liar, I have been a tease, I have been a bad person, I have been a bad friend, I have been uncouth, I have been a devil worshiper, I have been a fake, I have been a bad daughter, I have been an evil heartless bitch, I have done everything that Britney, Paris, Lindsay and Meghan have collectively been brandished for doing.
Forgive me "Father" for I have sinned. Now how far from the truth were the previous accusations. Well I leave it up to you to guess. It's not like you will believe me anyways right? Yeah. I didn't think so either. This is all coming from a girl who swears by Gossip Girl and loves Blaire Waldorf and Chuck Bass, two of the most disturbingly darkest yet realistic characters in our generation. Don't laugh. Gossip Girl deals with a lot of our own life's problems. Don't believe me? Then try watching it and tell me you don't relate to Chuck, Blaire, Serena, Dan, or Jenny at some freakin point. Go ahead. I dare you. No. I double dog dare you! You will relish the feeling and worship the ground they walk on. Because they are you and you are them.
So how do we deal with this CharAss? It's the classic tale of retribution. Karma is bad ass. It comes back to bite you where it hurts. So not only does the perpetrator have to deal with Karma's bad ass ways, it has CharAss to face as well. ::Sigh:: Revenge is sinfully pleasurable ain't it? I would know. The vicious cycle of Karma has bitten me on more than one occasion. Oops. Did I just reveal too much?
XOXO
S
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
A Letter to My Unborn Child
Hi,
You obviously don't know me yet, but you will hopefully. In fact I am writing this letter to tell you a little bit about me.
Right now I am in my early 20's but pretty soon I'll be diving into my mid twenties and the quarter life crisis will move on to the mid life stage. It's not a pretty sight I tell you. I hope you don't have to see me till I am in my late twenties, because right now I can barely handle myself, imagine handling you.
Don't get me wrong, I would love to have you, but at this point the world is a bad bad place and I want to keep you away from it. This does not mean that by the time you are born the world will be a better place, but hopefully MY world will be a better place and I will be better equipped to protect you from it.
I promise I won't name you after a cartoon character or any name that will provoke people to come up with hideous nick names for you. Your name will be beautiful. I think I will have to see you to name you. It's to impersonal to name a baby before you meet him or her. I think. So excuse me if you are nameless for a few days. You'll still be my baby though.
Baby, you don't know how much I want to do for you. I want to give you all of life's happiness, all the material and non material goods, whatever it takes.
If your a girl I want to dress you up in fancy clothes from the start, but when you are old enough to understand, I want you to know that its not only about looking good. I will make you a proper lady, because I know what it feels like to be a tom boy with cropped hair but wanting to be a girly girl with the long flowy dresses and hair:: sigh... I won't do that to you baby. I will let you wear dresses as well as the cute overalls. Whatever it takes to keep you happy.
If you are a boy I will dress you up in all the baby sports gear I can find, but I won't ever compromise on colours. If you look good in the colour pink, I won't keep you away from it. I will ensure that you are comfortable with who you are. Don't worry baby.
I hope you aren't bored baby. This is my love letter to you. Because I love you baby and I always will.
You will eat all the finest foods baby, not only the mashed processed types. You will get the best of store bought, drive way ordered and home made foods. I promise I will make extra efforts to be that "good cook" mother. The one who will cook for all your friends and won't ever let you feel like you are eating too much. You can eat whatever you want when you are young baby. But it doesn't stop there.
You will be an athlete, whether you like it or not. You won't be an idle baby who plays only Playstation 10. Baby you will play whatever you want whether its soccer, football, cricket or even golf. I will be there cheering you on at all the matches, if not all, most. I will be the soccer mom that will make sure she drops you to all your matches and at times will even settle to drop off your friends. But baby you will have time to play games, watch movies and indulge in television. I won't say no to a healthy amount of entertainment. Notice the word HEALTHY.
You will have hobbies. I won't stop you from pursuing whatever you want. You can build model cars or destroy them. However you want to express yourself I promise I will try try understand and encourage you.
For the first few years of your life I won't leave you alone baby. You will be my number one priority. But once you are old enough to go to school and stay with a babysitter, I will earn more money for us baby, but I promise I will be back soon. I will work really hard baby so that I can buy you everything you need and more. And when I come back baby I want to see a smile on your face, at any cost.
I will sing for you baby, even though I am sure I will amuse you in a scary way rather than in an entertaining way. It's okay baby, when you don't want to listen to me, I will make you listen to all my favorite artists. Music will help you when I can't. I will help you start your own personal music collection baby. You will listen to everyone from Justin Timberlake to Julio Iglesias. Rihanna to Dire Straits. It's all for you baby.
Are you with me baby?
I want to set the best example for you. I won't indulge in any vices that might hamper your perception of me. I want to be that mom that you only hear of, but never really see.
When you are older, I want you to have your space, even if it means giving you a lot of time away from me. I will let you throw your tantrums but when need be, I will put you in your place baby. I am not a cruel person baby, but life throws a lot of yucky stuff at you. At times this yucky stuff will make you stronger, at times it will make you bitter, at times it will make you hate me. Either way baby I will be strong for you. I will protect you from the yucky stuff as far as possible.
The opposite sex is dangerous baby. You have to be careful with them. If you are a girl I won't stop you from having crushes, but don't depend on boys baby. They can't always be dependable. You will be an independent woman. But you will always have me baby. I will make sure of that.
If you are a boy baby I will make you strong and proud of who you are. I won't let you be a "player" or break random girls hearts. You will be a "gangsta gentleman". That's it. Rest is up to you.
If you decide that you don't like the opposite sex but are interested in the same sex, then we will have to have a long talk and you will have to explain it to me, because I could be very apprehensive about the whole thing. But you can change my mind baby, because I just want you to be happy.
Baby its a mad mad mad world out there. People will upset you. They will make you laugh. They will make you dance to their tunes. They will make you happy. But when the world lets you down. I promise I will be there to lift you back up and I will nurse you back to absolute happiness.
I haven't mentioned your father baby. That's because I don't know who he is or where he is. It's okay though, whether I bring you into this world with or without a father, rest assured I will give you enough love to make up for the lack of one.
I am looking forward to your arrival baby. It may be after a few years, but I am already anticipating your birth. I see you in every baby I see on tv, on the street, in posters.
I love you baby.
Love,
Your mom
You obviously don't know me yet, but you will hopefully. In fact I am writing this letter to tell you a little bit about me.
Right now I am in my early 20's but pretty soon I'll be diving into my mid twenties and the quarter life crisis will move on to the mid life stage. It's not a pretty sight I tell you. I hope you don't have to see me till I am in my late twenties, because right now I can barely handle myself, imagine handling you.
Don't get me wrong, I would love to have you, but at this point the world is a bad bad place and I want to keep you away from it. This does not mean that by the time you are born the world will be a better place, but hopefully MY world will be a better place and I will be better equipped to protect you from it.
I promise I won't name you after a cartoon character or any name that will provoke people to come up with hideous nick names for you. Your name will be beautiful. I think I will have to see you to name you. It's to impersonal to name a baby before you meet him or her. I think. So excuse me if you are nameless for a few days. You'll still be my baby though.
Baby, you don't know how much I want to do for you. I want to give you all of life's happiness, all the material and non material goods, whatever it takes.
If your a girl I want to dress you up in fancy clothes from the start, but when you are old enough to understand, I want you to know that its not only about looking good. I will make you a proper lady, because I know what it feels like to be a tom boy with cropped hair but wanting to be a girly girl with the long flowy dresses and hair:: sigh... I won't do that to you baby. I will let you wear dresses as well as the cute overalls. Whatever it takes to keep you happy.
If you are a boy I will dress you up in all the baby sports gear I can find, but I won't ever compromise on colours. If you look good in the colour pink, I won't keep you away from it. I will ensure that you are comfortable with who you are. Don't worry baby.
I hope you aren't bored baby. This is my love letter to you. Because I love you baby and I always will.
You will eat all the finest foods baby, not only the mashed processed types. You will get the best of store bought, drive way ordered and home made foods. I promise I will make extra efforts to be that "good cook" mother. The one who will cook for all your friends and won't ever let you feel like you are eating too much. You can eat whatever you want when you are young baby. But it doesn't stop there.
You will be an athlete, whether you like it or not. You won't be an idle baby who plays only Playstation 10. Baby you will play whatever you want whether its soccer, football, cricket or even golf. I will be there cheering you on at all the matches, if not all, most. I will be the soccer mom that will make sure she drops you to all your matches and at times will even settle to drop off your friends. But baby you will have time to play games, watch movies and indulge in television. I won't say no to a healthy amount of entertainment. Notice the word HEALTHY.
You will have hobbies. I won't stop you from pursuing whatever you want. You can build model cars or destroy them. However you want to express yourself I promise I will try try understand and encourage you.
For the first few years of your life I won't leave you alone baby. You will be my number one priority. But once you are old enough to go to school and stay with a babysitter, I will earn more money for us baby, but I promise I will be back soon. I will work really hard baby so that I can buy you everything you need and more. And when I come back baby I want to see a smile on your face, at any cost.
I will sing for you baby, even though I am sure I will amuse you in a scary way rather than in an entertaining way. It's okay baby, when you don't want to listen to me, I will make you listen to all my favorite artists. Music will help you when I can't. I will help you start your own personal music collection baby. You will listen to everyone from Justin Timberlake to Julio Iglesias. Rihanna to Dire Straits. It's all for you baby.
Are you with me baby?
I want to set the best example for you. I won't indulge in any vices that might hamper your perception of me. I want to be that mom that you only hear of, but never really see.
When you are older, I want you to have your space, even if it means giving you a lot of time away from me. I will let you throw your tantrums but when need be, I will put you in your place baby. I am not a cruel person baby, but life throws a lot of yucky stuff at you. At times this yucky stuff will make you stronger, at times it will make you bitter, at times it will make you hate me. Either way baby I will be strong for you. I will protect you from the yucky stuff as far as possible.
The opposite sex is dangerous baby. You have to be careful with them. If you are a girl I won't stop you from having crushes, but don't depend on boys baby. They can't always be dependable. You will be an independent woman. But you will always have me baby. I will make sure of that.
If you are a boy baby I will make you strong and proud of who you are. I won't let you be a "player" or break random girls hearts. You will be a "gangsta gentleman". That's it. Rest is up to you.
If you decide that you don't like the opposite sex but are interested in the same sex, then we will have to have a long talk and you will have to explain it to me, because I could be very apprehensive about the whole thing. But you can change my mind baby, because I just want you to be happy.
Baby its a mad mad mad world out there. People will upset you. They will make you laugh. They will make you dance to their tunes. They will make you happy. But when the world lets you down. I promise I will be there to lift you back up and I will nurse you back to absolute happiness.
I haven't mentioned your father baby. That's because I don't know who he is or where he is. It's okay though, whether I bring you into this world with or without a father, rest assured I will give you enough love to make up for the lack of one.
I am looking forward to your arrival baby. It may be after a few years, but I am already anticipating your birth. I see you in every baby I see on tv, on the street, in posters.
I love you baby.
Love,
Your mom
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
It's Not Right..But it's Okay
Some things in life aren't fair and somethings outright suck..but then you just have to adopt a new perspective towards everything. Ultimately, you may not think things are right, but it's okay. Really the world won't come to an end. Here's what I mean:
It's not right that there is a size zero...But its okay because there is also a size 12 and people like Beyonce fill in those size 12 jeans awesomely.
It's not right that Elvis Presely wrote very few of his own songs, but gets all the credit that people like Neil Diamond, Otis Redding, etc deserve. But its okay because I like the Neil Diamond's version of "Sweet Caroline" better.
It's not right that men like Tiger Woods get sympathy for being caught up in numerous scandals and affairs...suddenly the super squeaky golf star seems like a sexual predator...but its okay because every dog has his day and Tiger might just be a dog...any doubts..I mean who are we kidding...after all he is a man and he has a toddler in his pants to tame...
It's not okay that I wanted to be the (wax on wax off) Karate Kid or the next Karate kid...but its okay...because my replacement is going to be an 11 year old kid named Jaden Smith...any guesses who his father is (lets get jiggy with it) and none other than Jackie "karate" Chan will be his mentor...wowwwwwwwwww
It's not right that my university exploited me, nearly killed me, nearly didnt let me graduate and is asking some of my friends to pick up their degrees at next years graduation and not this years, but its okay because I am not going to the fugly event anyways...okay maybe I am..but still..I will make sure I use up as much of their resources as I can..
It's not right that there is a size zero...But its okay because there is also a size 12 and people like Beyonce fill in those size 12 jeans awesomely.
It's not right that Elvis Presely wrote very few of his own songs, but gets all the credit that people like Neil Diamond, Otis Redding, etc deserve. But its okay because I like the Neil Diamond's version of "Sweet Caroline" better.
It's not right that Real Madrid has all the hot (both professionally and physically) players, but its okay because Barca still managed to kick Real Madrid's behind in the Spanish League match the other day.
It's not right that Oprah is planning to quit day time talk show hosting by 2010 and people already looking for replacements (cough cough Tyra Banks and Sarah Palin), but its okay because there is still a whole year to convince her otherwise.
It's not okay that I wanted to be the (wax on wax off) Karate Kid or the next Karate kid...but its okay...because my replacement is going to be an 11 year old kid named Jaden Smith...any guesses who his father is (lets get jiggy with it) and none other than Jackie "karate" Chan will be his mentor...wowwwwwwwwww
It's not right that my university exploited me, nearly killed me, nearly didnt let me graduate and is asking some of my friends to pick up their degrees at next years graduation and not this years, but its okay because I am not going to the fugly event anyways...okay maybe I am..but still..I will make sure I use up as much of their resources as I can..
It's not okay that I like good food and have to be fat to prove it, but its okay because apparently you like me for me and not my body...and even if you don't its okay...that's right...Ya Heard Me..cuz my body's too bootyliciuous for ya babe...
And...its not right that I was named Shagufta and people can't get beyond calling me shaggy, shagz, shuga, shugi, kofta, goofy, or worse SHAG, but its okay because otherwise a man named "saggy" would have never christened me ShagDAintern...now imagine the world without shagdaintern...how pathetically sad would that be...quite..
And...its not right that I was named Shagufta and people can't get beyond calling me shaggy, shagz, shuga, shugi, kofta, goofy, or worse SHAG, but its okay because otherwise a man named "saggy" would have never christened me ShagDAintern...now imagine the world without shagdaintern...how pathetically sad would that be...quite..
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
The Blubbering Idiot Meets the Man Who Kicked Spidey's and Batman's Ass
YES..that blubbering idiot would be me..and NO you don't have to get your panties in a bunch.. I only met him in my dreams....
So the movie NEW MOON opened worldwide to packed cinema halls. Now all you haters out there will try to prove me wrong, but let me do what any desperate Rob/Edward loving person would do: Throw some reliable stats at you.
So here it goes.
The second installment of the Twilight Saga closed the weekend with a more than remarkable debut weekend with a $140.7 million opening in the U.S alone and worldwide opening of $118.1 million making the total a whopping $258 million . WowZers. I can't even count half that far.
For all you movie fact illiterates out there, this is what the above information means:
The enormous collection that the sequel raked in makes it the 3rd biggest opening in Hollywood history, falling just behind The Dark Knight and Spiderman. And while you can gloat about the fact that it came third over all, let me just break it down a little bit more so that you can put your mouth where your money is and shut the heck up. Here are some more facts that might make you want to punch me in my gut:
Numero Uno. New Moon has the biggest opening in November ever, even beating our favourite teenage wizard, Harry Potter. The Goblet of Fire got $102.7 million. Edward beat Harry by 38 million. Aww Poor Harry. Don't even try to bring the age thing into the picture.
Number 2: While in the overall weekend gross, Edward couldn't beat Spidey or Blacky, Edward and team got the biggest two day gross ever, beating The Dark Knight. Yes read this and weep punks. New Moon's $115.9 million Friday-Saturday) vs The Dark Knight's $114.8 million start.
Tres: I'll stop my gloating with these last few facts, Biggest opening day ever ($67.2 million); biggest single day ever ($67.2 million); biggest showing ever ($26.3 million).
No offense to Spidey and Batman. I mean I grew up loving Bruce, but I appreciated him for his non super heroish ways, his ability to be human but super human at the same time. I still love Batman, it's just not the same love.
So New Moon couldn't win the weekend crown. Who gives a hoot, but since I brought it up anyways, lets just get this clear. New Moon did not have a world wide release like Spiderman or The Dark Knight. In fact it hasn't even released in INDIA, but thats another blog waiting to be written. Anyways, Edward Cullen, the sexy and smart 108 year old vampire with a body of a seventeen-year-old proved that you don't have to be a comic book super hero to be a box office king. While I don't give the success of the saga solely to Rob Pattinson, he definitely is the biggest contributing factor.
So why am I, an almost 24 year old working independent and strong woman lusting over this frosty white blood sucker? ::Sigh::..Wish I could explain it. While reading the books it was more about the character of Edward Cullen. But with the movie Edward comes to life in Robert Pattinson's body and soul and believe me, I have no complaints. So he looks pasty, so his hair looks to good to be true.
"He lay perfectly still in the grass, his shirt open over his sculpted, incandescent chest, his scintillating arms bare. His glistening, pale lavender lids were shut, though of course he didn’t sleep. A perfect statue, carved in some unknown stone, smooth like marble, glittering like crystal.”
Yes. That's what dreams are made of. I am part of the Edward Cult, and the more you call me a loser, the more I find salvage in Edward and the deeper I dive into this infatuation. It's like I am out to prove a point. I have an obsessive Twilight Disorder. I yearn to be Bella and quite frankly wouldn't think twice if I could be a vampire forever with Edward.
Why should you make fun of Stephanie Meyer, the author of the Twilight books, when we devour classics like "Pride and Prejudice", "Emma", "Tess of the D'ubervilles", etc? I mean despite the dark trappings of the Twilight series, it is nothing but a reincarnation of the classic tale of a vulnerable young woman and a powerful overbearing man who surrenders his pride for his lady love. Romantic? Quite.
Who wouldn't want to be a strong but poor damsel in distress, summoned to the highest ends of romanticism and passionate love by the coolest vampire on the block?
Who wouldn't want to test the ethical and emotional limits of this vampire god, who oozes raw masculinity?
I wish my scent was excruciatingly painful for Edward. The very thought of it gets me all hot and bothered.
So Ella might technically be the protagonist of the Franchise, but who cares. She's so plain Jane. And he is perfection personified, he composes music, drives hot cars and is smart, not to mention he loves this plain jane enough to sacrifice his wants for her safety. ::Sigh.
I can go on and on about how this Saga is the next best ting to happen to our generation since Google, but you haters will only laugh it off. I don't mind though. Maybe you should look deep down into your hearts and think about the fact that I find Edwards (fictional characters) company more appealing then yours.
So it all boils down to being loved by Edward Cullen. I would give my A+ blood to him any time. Edward are you listening?
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Conditionally Yours- the Attention Whore
That saying "unconditionally yours" is so over rated. I mean Hallmark or whoever came up with it obviously didn't know what they were talking about. I mean seriously think about it. Does anyone do anything for anyone without there being any selfishly motivated reason? NOOOOOO. I swear on Mother Theresa. No one does anything without getting something out of it. Everything is done with a condition attached.
Lets start with the most basic example. Our livelihoods. Back in the day, people survived without bills, bill,bills and got along with a barter system. Even then, no one gave each other free things without expecting something in return. Even if the person concerned didn't give something back right away, there was always that expectation that they would give it eventually. Right. That waiting part only lasted for so long. Eventually everyone realized they can't be Mr. Nice Guy anymore and that there has to be a strict order of giving and taking at the same time. So that's how money replaced trust.
Well money is still one of those conditions that rule our way of living, but its not the only way. SEX, drugs, lies, videotape, rock N roll, are all conditions. There are hundreds, thousands of conditions, but the ones I mentioned are the most interesting. Oh don't give me that knowing look. You don't know anything. Because if you disagree with the fact that SEX, drugs, lies, videotape, rock N roll are all calculated motivations in this very world we live in then buddy you need to wake up and smell the pollution.
Its been nearly 5 months since MJ left us and went on to a better place. Everything from the lawsuits, the controversy's, the conspiracies, etc have died down. Then BAM.. Los Angeles decides it wants something back for hosting the memorial for the king of pop at Staples Centre. And you'll never guess what it is. GUESS..just try..come on..MONEY. wow go figure. Apparently L.A spent about $3.2 million to help pull off the memorial in terms of providing security and extensive police presence around the venue. Funny right? They are asking the event management company AEG, that owns Staples Centre to cough up the cash. Whats ironic about that is that Michael has generated so much money for the city which boasts of the Lakers and other money making machines. Yes so I get that Americans are still dealing with layoffs and the whole recession monster, but pay back for things that they never really asked for? Seriously. And we thought they did it out of the kindess of their hearts. RIGHT. The entire escapade and proceedings brought in about $4 million in revenue for the city with all the tourists and fans who gathered, with hotel stays, restaurant bills, transportation and other transactions. hmm.. So I know I am bad at math and all that but technically that means L.A. made profits because of the whole thing. So yes no one does anything for anyone. Ask Michael who died alone and in debt. Oops sorry you cant ask him right because his "caring" doctor helped him OD.
Just like no one in this world is permanent, no one in this world is unselfish or unconditional. That's the ugly truth. When a guys say he loves you unconditionally its rubbish. When a girl says the same thing its rubbish too. I don't think there is a point in saying things like that. We all need each other to get something we need or want. The sooner we realize that the better.
Take me for instance. I do a lot of nice things for people and people call me "Mother Theresa".
I say "Don't litter" when what I really mean is " Dude because you are littering, I might have to die sooner than I thought because you are contributing to global warming, you wiener! And you call me Mother Theresa.
I buy you food and you think wow she's so nice, when really I don't want to be eating alone. I buy you enough food for the week and you think "Mother Theresa", but all I am thinking about is how you're going to love me from now on for doing it.
I wear nice clothes, dress up and you think wow she takes care of herself, when really I don't want you to see how pathetic I am in other ways, so I decide to make myself "acceptable" to hide it all and hey I make you notice and get you to tell me how nice I am looking.
I clean up after you, and you think "Gosh she is such a neat freak", when really I am worried that my head will get messed up if I keep hanging around in this mess.
I do your part of the work and you think "wow she is so dedicated to her work, she is so good", when really I can't trust you with it because you might just end up doing a shi**y job.
I keep cutting your calls and insist on calling you back and you think "She's got so much money, ad she's so sweet for wanting it to spend on me", when really I know you won't stay on the phone for more than 5 minutes and I like speaking for more than that.
::Sigh
I think I just revealed too much. I don't know. I think its just a I-wanna-be-honest phase that I am going through.
Oh how could I forget about the biggest revelation of them all.
You think I write a blog because I need a space to vent, when really I just want you to give me more attention.
XOXO
Conditionally Yours,
The Attention Whore
Lets start with the most basic example. Our livelihoods. Back in the day, people survived without bills, bill,bills and got along with a barter system. Even then, no one gave each other free things without expecting something in return. Even if the person concerned didn't give something back right away, there was always that expectation that they would give it eventually. Right. That waiting part only lasted for so long. Eventually everyone realized they can't be Mr. Nice Guy anymore and that there has to be a strict order of giving and taking at the same time. So that's how money replaced trust.
Well money is still one of those conditions that rule our way of living, but its not the only way. SEX, drugs, lies, videotape, rock N roll, are all conditions. There are hundreds, thousands of conditions, but the ones I mentioned are the most interesting. Oh don't give me that knowing look. You don't know anything. Because if you disagree with the fact that SEX, drugs, lies, videotape, rock N roll are all calculated motivations in this very world we live in then buddy you need to wake up and smell the pollution.
Its been nearly 5 months since MJ left us and went on to a better place. Everything from the lawsuits, the controversy's, the conspiracies, etc have died down. Then BAM.. Los Angeles decides it wants something back for hosting the memorial for the king of pop at Staples Centre. And you'll never guess what it is. GUESS..just try..come on..MONEY. wow go figure. Apparently L.A spent about $3.2 million to help pull off the memorial in terms of providing security and extensive police presence around the venue. Funny right? They are asking the event management company AEG, that owns Staples Centre to cough up the cash. Whats ironic about that is that Michael has generated so much money for the city which boasts of the Lakers and other money making machines. Yes so I get that Americans are still dealing with layoffs and the whole recession monster, but pay back for things that they never really asked for? Seriously. And we thought they did it out of the kindess of their hearts. RIGHT. The entire escapade and proceedings brought in about $4 million in revenue for the city with all the tourists and fans who gathered, with hotel stays, restaurant bills, transportation and other transactions. hmm.. So I know I am bad at math and all that but technically that means L.A. made profits because of the whole thing. So yes no one does anything for anyone. Ask Michael who died alone and in debt. Oops sorry you cant ask him right because his "caring" doctor helped him OD.
Just like no one in this world is permanent, no one in this world is unselfish or unconditional. That's the ugly truth. When a guys say he loves you unconditionally its rubbish. When a girl says the same thing its rubbish too. I don't think there is a point in saying things like that. We all need each other to get something we need or want. The sooner we realize that the better.
Take me for instance. I do a lot of nice things for people and people call me "Mother Theresa".
I say "Don't litter" when what I really mean is " Dude because you are littering, I might have to die sooner than I thought because you are contributing to global warming, you wiener! And you call me Mother Theresa.
I buy you food and you think wow she's so nice, when really I don't want to be eating alone. I buy you enough food for the week and you think "Mother Theresa", but all I am thinking about is how you're going to love me from now on for doing it.
I wear nice clothes, dress up and you think wow she takes care of herself, when really I don't want you to see how pathetic I am in other ways, so I decide to make myself "acceptable" to hide it all and hey I make you notice and get you to tell me how nice I am looking.
I clean up after you, and you think "Gosh she is such a neat freak", when really I am worried that my head will get messed up if I keep hanging around in this mess.
I do your part of the work and you think "wow she is so dedicated to her work, she is so good", when really I can't trust you with it because you might just end up doing a shi**y job.
I keep cutting your calls and insist on calling you back and you think "She's got so much money, ad she's so sweet for wanting it to spend on me", when really I know you won't stay on the phone for more than 5 minutes and I like speaking for more than that.
::Sigh
I think I just revealed too much. I don't know. I think its just a I-wanna-be-honest phase that I am going through.
Oh how could I forget about the biggest revelation of them all.
You think I write a blog because I need a space to vent, when really I just want you to give me more attention.
XOXO
Conditionally Yours,
The Attention Whore
Monday, November 9, 2009
Douche-Bag Syndrome
Now I am not one to use profanities or cuss a lot, but I cant stop myself from appreciating the word douchebag. It's so easy on the tongue and sounds more like a french delicacy than a bad word.
Today I stand completely inspired by two women who have risen up and fought against the douche bags in their lives. Now the word douche bag is so vague. I mean if taken literally it means a bag that gushes a stream of water. I'm not talking about that. I am talking about the DooouuucccHE Bag. The quintessential jerk of the 21st century. The ass h*le of the millennium. The creep of the year (and most of our life). Its funny how more often than none the douche bag in our lives is a male. I mean I am not a right out feminist here but its true right. Well it is as far as I can see it.
So last week I came across two videos. I know I am a little late in blogging about it. Blame it on the douche bag in my life, my back. Long Story. Now on to the observation.
So I came across Rihanna's tell all with Diane Sawyer on 20/20. Up until now, there has only been speculation and random commentary, but Rihanna herself has never gone on air and on record about the whole Chris Brown incident. I hate to call it an incident because an incident is just something that happens and you tend to forget about it just as soon. This cannot be forgotten. Domestic abuse is something that we hear about all the time. But the problem is you never think it will happen to you so you tend to ignore the fact that it is happening to others. Selfish as we are, we cant help it. It won't happen to us will it? It could I'm afraid. So Rihanna goes on record and reveals everything. So why did the Douche bag in question resort to shoving, biting and punching the Barbadian Diva? Oh the silly woman looked through his messages and saw dirty messages from his ex girlfriend. Oh yeah I would totally knock someone around silly for that. TOTALLY. Douche Bag number 1= Chris Brown. What the heck was he thinking and did he seriously think she wouldn't want to pour her heart out on national television? He needs to be dismissed and sent to Douche bag hell. But Rihanna's new video features hottie Dr. Jackson Avery from Grey's Anatomy. Me thinks she should just start canoodling with him. Ahem Ahem. If she doesn't I will! As far as Chris Brown is concerned..maybe he should stop trying to reach out to Rihanna. His new video for the single "Crawl" is pathetic. I mean come on, casting Cassie (aka Rihanna wannabe) with a half bald head as the ex? SERIOUSLY? J.T. did it better with "Cry me a river". Back then it was bold. Now its just stupid.
The other Douchebag is another young musician who just thinks too much of himself. Yes its one of the Jo Bros. Taylor Swifts ex, Joe Jonas. So Taylor comes out with this song called 'the Monologue' on SNL and its hilarious without being over the top, because she mentions two douchebags without being mean. So Joe actually broke poor Tay Tay's heart over the phone. Oh My Gosh. Yes he is totally a douchebag. Who does that? I mean I get that he isn't a MAN yet, I mean a 19 year old boy cant be held responsible for his actions can he? Of course he can. Even small boys have balls. So where did this 19 year olds balls go? I hate that word BALLS but its so apt for the situation you know. Sounds better than guts. Then there was Kanye who had over exposed his ballsyness stealing glory which wasn't even his to begin with. But I dunno. I think there was too much media attention for the whole thing and plus Taylor didn't have any trouble jumping on to another Taylors (::cough::Lautner) bandwagon. So considering she jumped real fast and I am on Edwards team, I think Taylor is a half a douchebag herself. I know I'm biased. Sue me. Go team Edward!
So I can't decide whether Josh Duhamel is a douchebag or not. So rumor has it that he did cheat on Fergalicious Fergie with a stripper. There isn't any real evidence that he did, but then who is to say he didn't. So I guess we can just assume him un-douchebag-worthy till he is incriminated and more evidence surfaces.
Other douchebags include:
1. Manu Sharma for being a moron who thinks he can lie to a public that is so well connected and knows what everyone is doing every minute. Douchebag.
2. Sheila Dixit for giving Manu Sharma bail. Douchebag auntie!
3. Raj Thackeray/Bal Thackerey/ MNS: All those fools who think they can get away with being discriminatory and ignorant. You're a bunch of douchebags. They should just come to terms with the fact that Maharashtra is full of douchebags but not all of them are Marathi speaking. I suggest you learn to live in harmony with your fellow douche bags. Also, what do you get out of setting fire to inanimate objects like movie posters of Kurbaan? Does it set your devilish souls at ease or do you enjoy burning paper. I dont see you setting your stacks of black money on fire, nor do I see you relaxing after that. Your just sick and need to get lives. Douchebags. All of you.
4. Bruce Springsteen: Sorry "Boss", I love your music but how could you go on stage in Michigan and scream "Hello Ohio", not once but thrice! Sorry but if you were in India and you said "Hello Bihar" while in Maharasthra, I could only pray for your safety and sanity. Think about eating some ginseng tablets and become more aware of your surroundings!
6. Indian Government: For allowing stupid stuff to happen in this country everyday and have no one taking responsibility for the same. Douche bag country. We seem to have a lot of douchbag moments. Might I refresh your memory: Partition, The Emergency of 1975, 26/11...oh and those are just the more popularly known ones. Every day we have douchebag moments in this country full of douchebags.
7. The Jamiat-Ulema-e-Hind's for declaring a fatwa against the Vande Mataram. Douche bags need to remember that a fatwa is only a suggested rule of law and not a sumpreme law of the land. Sing/Dont Sing the National Song. Its up to you. But douchebags need to learn to think for themselves.
So those were the douchebags of the week, and I am sure there will be many more this week. But these people are all celebrities and prominent personalities/groups. They are expected to be douchebags. Douchebags make the most money. DUH. But that doesn't mean there aren't any douchebags in my life. I have a number of douchebags in my life who I feel should be locked away in douchebag hell. But we wont go there. I think we all have douchebag moments. But let try to avoid having those moments as much as we can. Here are the don'ts that one should avoid to stay out of douchebagness. (Based on true incidents)
Moral of the Story is.....
1. Don't break up with your girlfriend over the phone.
2. Don't go on public television and cry about a douchebag breaking your heart over the phone and then start dating a werewolf who shares your name and expect sympathy from the poor public all the time!
3. Don't jump on stage and steal someones glory.
4. Don't beat your girl (or boy) up silly for going through your messages and questioning you about an ex.
5. Don't write a blog on douchebags. I already did it.
6. Don't run down the stairs. The stairs are douchebags.
7. Don't cheat on your wife with a stripper( or anyone)
8. Don't make a music video with a woman who is known to be a more demented version of your ex.
9. Don't deposit out of station checks in an ancient bank with an unaccepting system. (::cough cough SBfreakinI)
10. Don't grant bail to a rich spoiled homicidal nut case and then feign ignorance when he uses his parole time to go clubbing.
11. Don't use your parole time to go clubbing and get in fights with equally spoiled nut case sons of big fish cops.
12. Don't declare fatwa's
13. Don't follow fatwas blindly without thinking first
14. Don't forget the name of the city in front of a huge concert crowd even if you are "the boss"
15. Dont' recreate the Holoucaust and discriminate against fellow douchebags. How can you discriminate against people that are just as douchebaggy as you.
oh I think I can go on forever...lets just call it a day and hope that we all become less douchebaggy by the day...
Today I stand completely inspired by two women who have risen up and fought against the douche bags in their lives. Now the word douche bag is so vague. I mean if taken literally it means a bag that gushes a stream of water. I'm not talking about that. I am talking about the DooouuucccHE Bag. The quintessential jerk of the 21st century. The ass h*le of the millennium. The creep of the year (and most of our life). Its funny how more often than none the douche bag in our lives is a male. I mean I am not a right out feminist here but its true right. Well it is as far as I can see it.
So last week I came across two videos. I know I am a little late in blogging about it. Blame it on the douche bag in my life, my back. Long Story. Now on to the observation.
So I came across Rihanna's tell all with Diane Sawyer on 20/20. Up until now, there has only been speculation and random commentary, but Rihanna herself has never gone on air and on record about the whole Chris Brown incident. I hate to call it an incident because an incident is just something that happens and you tend to forget about it just as soon. This cannot be forgotten. Domestic abuse is something that we hear about all the time. But the problem is you never think it will happen to you so you tend to ignore the fact that it is happening to others. Selfish as we are, we cant help it. It won't happen to us will it? It could I'm afraid. So Rihanna goes on record and reveals everything. So why did the Douche bag in question resort to shoving, biting and punching the Barbadian Diva? Oh the silly woman looked through his messages and saw dirty messages from his ex girlfriend. Oh yeah I would totally knock someone around silly for that. TOTALLY. Douche Bag number 1= Chris Brown. What the heck was he thinking and did he seriously think she wouldn't want to pour her heart out on national television? He needs to be dismissed and sent to Douche bag hell. But Rihanna's new video features hottie Dr. Jackson Avery from Grey's Anatomy. Me thinks she should just start canoodling with him. Ahem Ahem. If she doesn't I will! As far as Chris Brown is concerned..maybe he should stop trying to reach out to Rihanna. His new video for the single "Crawl" is pathetic. I mean come on, casting Cassie (aka Rihanna wannabe) with a half bald head as the ex? SERIOUSLY? J.T. did it better with "Cry me a river". Back then it was bold. Now its just stupid.
The other Douchebag is another young musician who just thinks too much of himself. Yes its one of the Jo Bros. Taylor Swifts ex, Joe Jonas. So Taylor comes out with this song called 'the Monologue' on SNL and its hilarious without being over the top, because she mentions two douchebags without being mean. So Joe actually broke poor Tay Tay's heart over the phone. Oh My Gosh. Yes he is totally a douchebag. Who does that? I mean I get that he isn't a MAN yet, I mean a 19 year old boy cant be held responsible for his actions can he? Of course he can. Even small boys have balls. So where did this 19 year olds balls go? I hate that word BALLS but its so apt for the situation you know. Sounds better than guts. Then there was Kanye who had over exposed his ballsyness stealing glory which wasn't even his to begin with. But I dunno. I think there was too much media attention for the whole thing and plus Taylor didn't have any trouble jumping on to another Taylors (::cough::Lautner) bandwagon. So considering she jumped real fast and I am on Edwards team, I think Taylor is a half a douchebag herself. I know I'm biased. Sue me. Go team Edward!
So I can't decide whether Josh Duhamel is a douchebag or not. So rumor has it that he did cheat on Fergalicious Fergie with a stripper. There isn't any real evidence that he did, but then who is to say he didn't. So I guess we can just assume him un-douchebag-worthy till he is incriminated and more evidence surfaces.
Other douchebags include:
1. Manu Sharma for being a moron who thinks he can lie to a public that is so well connected and knows what everyone is doing every minute. Douchebag.
2. Sheila Dixit for giving Manu Sharma bail. Douchebag auntie!
3. Raj Thackeray/Bal Thackerey/ MNS: All those fools who think they can get away with being discriminatory and ignorant. You're a bunch of douchebags. They should just come to terms with the fact that Maharashtra is full of douchebags but not all of them are Marathi speaking. I suggest you learn to live in harmony with your fellow douche bags. Also, what do you get out of setting fire to inanimate objects like movie posters of Kurbaan? Does it set your devilish souls at ease or do you enjoy burning paper. I dont see you setting your stacks of black money on fire, nor do I see you relaxing after that. Your just sick and need to get lives. Douchebags. All of you.
4. Bruce Springsteen: Sorry "Boss", I love your music but how could you go on stage in Michigan and scream "Hello Ohio", not once but thrice! Sorry but if you were in India and you said "Hello Bihar" while in Maharasthra, I could only pray for your safety and sanity. Think about eating some ginseng tablets and become more aware of your surroundings!
6. Indian Government: For allowing stupid stuff to happen in this country everyday and have no one taking responsibility for the same. Douche bag country. We seem to have a lot of douchbag moments. Might I refresh your memory: Partition, The Emergency of 1975, 26/11...oh and those are just the more popularly known ones. Every day we have douchebag moments in this country full of douchebags.
7. The Jamiat-Ulema-e-Hind's for declaring a fatwa against the Vande Mataram. Douche bags need to remember that a fatwa is only a suggested rule of law and not a sumpreme law of the land. Sing/Dont Sing the National Song. Its up to you. But douchebags need to learn to think for themselves.
So those were the douchebags of the week, and I am sure there will be many more this week. But these people are all celebrities and prominent personalities/groups. They are expected to be douchebags. Douchebags make the most money. DUH. But that doesn't mean there aren't any douchebags in my life. I have a number of douchebags in my life who I feel should be locked away in douchebag hell. But we wont go there. I think we all have douchebag moments. But let try to avoid having those moments as much as we can. Here are the don'ts that one should avoid to stay out of douchebagness. (Based on true incidents)
Moral of the Story is.....
1. Don't break up with your girlfriend over the phone.
2. Don't go on public television and cry about a douchebag breaking your heart over the phone and then start dating a werewolf who shares your name and expect sympathy from the poor public all the time!
3. Don't jump on stage and steal someones glory.
4. Don't beat your girl (or boy) up silly for going through your messages and questioning you about an ex.
5. Don't write a blog on douchebags. I already did it.
6. Don't run down the stairs. The stairs are douchebags.
7. Don't cheat on your wife with a stripper( or anyone)
8. Don't make a music video with a woman who is known to be a more demented version of your ex.
9. Don't deposit out of station checks in an ancient bank with an unaccepting system. (::cough cough SBfreakinI)
10. Don't grant bail to a rich spoiled homicidal nut case and then feign ignorance when he uses his parole time to go clubbing.
11. Don't use your parole time to go clubbing and get in fights with equally spoiled nut case sons of big fish cops.
12. Don't declare fatwa's
13. Don't follow fatwas blindly without thinking first
14. Don't forget the name of the city in front of a huge concert crowd even if you are "the boss"
15. Dont' recreate the Holoucaust and discriminate against fellow douchebags. How can you discriminate against people that are just as douchebaggy as you.
oh I think I can go on forever...lets just call it a day and hope that we all become less douchebaggy by the day...
Thursday, November 5, 2009
All I Want to Do is Have Some Fun...
...and I got a feeling, I'm not the only one....said Sheryl Crowe in the song by the same name..
FUN...what a relative term..Its so simple yet so profound. I don't know how there is even a definition in the dictionary. Websters defines Fun as
a. what provides amusement or enjoyment
b. a mood for finding or making amusement
c. violent or excited activity or argument
Hmm...its still so vague... I mean how many times have you suggested to someone that you should go out and have some fun..Who is to say that you can't have fun at home. It's all in the mind really or if you are me it all depends on the mood.
So yes I have different levels of fun. I can have fun anywhere, anytime, with a crowd, with another person and I am saying this in the least nasty way possible, by myself. But then again there is a time for everything, but right now its time for fun, or at least to dissect it.
So lets work our way down shall we instead of up. Since fun is a relative term and all that jazz, we can't really point fingers at Britney Spears when she talks about having a threesome in her saucy new single '3' now can we? No we cannot. Excuse yourself. But seriously, its her idea of fun. So this is what she has to say about indulging in the idea of a menage a trois :
Hmm..So three is makes it more fun? Am i getting this right. Yes so three was always by favourite number but I'm not sure about having fun the way Britney describes it, unless of course you give me both Justin and Johnny (Depp) at the same time. But since that aint happening in this lifetime, I would say no to Britney's idea of fun.
Lets move on to Rihanna. I always thought she was my soul sista, singing about all the things I'm feeling and more. Then she had to go and come up with the song called " Russian Roulette". I know Lady Gaga says "Russian Roulette aint the same without a gun" in 'Poker Face', but did Rihanna have to take Lady Gaga of all the people so seriously. Yes it seems she did. Read and weep:
Okay digital Rihanna died. Rihanna has a demented idea of what fun is..But we all get our kicks somehow. She gets hers by taking a chance with her life. Props to her. But it aint my cup of hot chocolate.
What about a Ladies night like Kool and the Gang sang about..yes sing a long.." Oh this is ladies night..and the feelings right..oh this is ladies night..oh what a night. Though I personally dig the Lil Kim version better. I mean come on the whole idea of a Ladies nights sounds better like this:
Yes a night out with the girls is definitely fun, but its not fun all the time. In fact sometimes it can be overkill. Anyone who says they want a ladies night every night is either single or lesbian. Sorry, no offense. I have been down the single road my whole life practically. But things change. You move on. As you mature, grow and change as a person so does your idea of fun.
You might be wondering why I am not mentioning songs by men about fun..that's because I take pride in calling myself a woman, though I went through years and years of being a "Tom boy"...why the heck is it tom and not tim, or john, or rich..or something else..
Anyways yes so none of these "fun" things appeal to me on a day to day basis. I would rather sit back relax, watch a movie on my lap top, read a book or listen to some music. That is my idea of fun.
Now If had to make a list of all the fun moments I have had in the past few months I've been in Bangalore they would be as follows (in no particular order):
1. Night out at Zara's with Nandini and Chippy and an obscenely high check.
2. Mother and Brother visiting me in my new found domestic bliss.
3. Sudu's visit and office bunking expedition.
4. Mid week madness @ the Beach.
5. Every day at Radio Indigo is fun. (even the late nights, like when Shwetha, Nidhi and Sri Ram suffered with me).
6. Every weekend when I catch up on my weekly dose of Gossip Girl, Melrose Place, Flash Forward, etc
7. Lunch with Mitin every day for an entire week where he paid most of the time..yippie
8. My uncles house is fun all the time, because it is the one place where I am free to do whatever I want, whenever I want, no questions asked.
9. When Hijaz, Nandini, Partha, Chippy, Samiha, Swati cook for me.
10. Watching Kaminey in an empty theater and Taking of Pelham 123 with a "fun" person.
11. Meeting Neelima, Madhu and Nida, together and separately on any occasion.
12. Watching Shuba lead a fashion show at Nabs house with the rest of the gang following instructions while half drunk...totally fun
13. Spending time in my bed, aimlessly every Saturday and Sunday with my favourite pillow.
Phew..okay so Call me boring, call me sad, call me a loser. What ever floats your boat. But I am happy with my fun.
But from what I hear..living in SIN is the new thing..and since I am a trend spotter and "trendsetter" in my own little world, I might just jump on the SIN full bandwagon..but don't hold your breath.
FUN...what a relative term..Its so simple yet so profound. I don't know how there is even a definition in the dictionary. Websters defines Fun as
a. what provides amusement or enjoyment
b. a mood for finding or making amusement
c. violent or excited activity or argument
Hmm...its still so vague... I mean how many times have you suggested to someone that you should go out and have some fun..Who is to say that you can't have fun at home. It's all in the mind really or if you are me it all depends on the mood.
So yes I have different levels of fun. I can have fun anywhere, anytime, with a crowd, with another person and I am saying this in the least nasty way possible, by myself. But then again there is a time for everything, but right now its time for fun, or at least to dissect it.
So lets work our way down shall we instead of up. Since fun is a relative term and all that jazz, we can't really point fingers at Britney Spears when she talks about having a threesome in her saucy new single '3' now can we? No we cannot. Excuse yourself. But seriously, its her idea of fun. So this is what she has to say about indulging in the idea of a menage a trois :
Merrier the more
Triple fun that way
Twister on the floor
What do you say?
Are - you in
Livin' in sin is the new thing (yeah)
Are - you in
I am countin'!
Three is a charm
Two is not the same
I don't see the harm
So are you game?
Hmm..So three is makes it more fun? Am i getting this right. Yes so three was always by favourite number but I'm not sure about having fun the way Britney describes it, unless of course you give me both Justin and Johnny (Depp) at the same time. But since that aint happening in this lifetime, I would say no to Britney's idea of fun.
Lets move on to Rihanna. I always thought she was my soul sista, singing about all the things I'm feeling and more. Then she had to go and come up with the song called " Russian Roulette". I know Lady Gaga says "Russian Roulette aint the same without a gun" in 'Poker Face', but did Rihanna have to take Lady Gaga of all the people so seriously. Yes it seems she did. Read and weep:
Take a breath, take it deep
Calm yourself, he says to me
If you play, you play for keeps
Take a gun, and count to three
I’m sweating now, moving slow
No time to think, my turn to go
And you can see my heart beating
You can see it through my chest
And I’m terrified but I’m not leaving
Know that I must pass this test
So just pull the trigger
:BANG
Calm yourself, he says to me
If you play, you play for keeps
Take a gun, and count to three
I’m sweating now, moving slow
No time to think, my turn to go
And you can see my heart beating
You can see it through my chest
And I’m terrified but I’m not leaving
Know that I must pass this test
So just pull the trigger
:BANG
Okay digital Rihanna died. Rihanna has a demented idea of what fun is..But we all get our kicks somehow. She gets hers by taking a chance with her life. Props to her. But it aint my cup of hot chocolate.
What about a Ladies night like Kool and the Gang sang about..yes sing a long.." Oh this is ladies night..and the feelings right..oh this is ladies night..oh what a night. Though I personally dig the Lil Kim version better. I mean come on the whole idea of a Ladies nights sounds better like this:
Uhh, never the one, packin a gun
Got some other raw chicks for that, lay your ass flat
I be the one chockin ya paragraphs, with laughs
Getcha back up on the right path
Ain't no stoppin me ladies from club hoppin gets my rock on
From flavors still frozen at Paradise joint
Booty shakin with the glass in my left one
Right hand sayin step...son
To me my girls is fancy fly bitc**s
Too my ni**az straight snitches, to them other chicos
Lady pimp ain't havin that shit
If you ain't got the cash to stash, suck my di*k hoes
Strictly a bell ringer
Lay another finger on this big bad one miss lady rap singer
I be the one to blame as the flames keep risin
To the top and it don't stop
Got some other raw chicks for that, lay your ass flat
I be the one chockin ya paragraphs, with laughs
Getcha back up on the right path
Ain't no stoppin me ladies from club hoppin gets my rock on
From flavors still frozen at Paradise joint
Booty shakin with the glass in my left one
Right hand sayin step...son
To me my girls is fancy fly bitc**s
Too my ni**az straight snitches, to them other chicos
Lady pimp ain't havin that shit
If you ain't got the cash to stash, suck my di*k hoes
Strictly a bell ringer
Lay another finger on this big bad one miss lady rap singer
I be the one to blame as the flames keep risin
To the top and it don't stop
Yes a night out with the girls is definitely fun, but its not fun all the time. In fact sometimes it can be overkill. Anyone who says they want a ladies night every night is either single or lesbian. Sorry, no offense. I have been down the single road my whole life practically. But things change. You move on. As you mature, grow and change as a person so does your idea of fun.
You might be wondering why I am not mentioning songs by men about fun..that's because I take pride in calling myself a woman, though I went through years and years of being a "Tom boy"...why the heck is it tom and not tim, or john, or rich..or something else..
Anyways yes so none of these "fun" things appeal to me on a day to day basis. I would rather sit back relax, watch a movie on my lap top, read a book or listen to some music. That is my idea of fun.
Now If had to make a list of all the fun moments I have had in the past few months I've been in Bangalore they would be as follows (in no particular order):
1. Night out at Zara's with Nandini and Chippy and an obscenely high check.
2. Mother and Brother visiting me in my new found domestic bliss.
3. Sudu's visit and office bunking expedition.
4. Mid week madness @ the Beach.
5. Every day at Radio Indigo is fun. (even the late nights, like when Shwetha, Nidhi and Sri Ram suffered with me).
6. Every weekend when I catch up on my weekly dose of Gossip Girl, Melrose Place, Flash Forward, etc
7. Lunch with Mitin every day for an entire week where he paid most of the time..yippie
8. My uncles house is fun all the time, because it is the one place where I am free to do whatever I want, whenever I want, no questions asked.
9. When Hijaz, Nandini, Partha, Chippy, Samiha, Swati cook for me.
10. Watching Kaminey in an empty theater and Taking of Pelham 123 with a "fun" person.
11. Meeting Neelima, Madhu and Nida, together and separately on any occasion.
12. Watching Shuba lead a fashion show at Nabs house with the rest of the gang following instructions while half drunk...totally fun
13. Spending time in my bed, aimlessly every Saturday and Sunday with my favourite pillow.
Phew..okay so Call me boring, call me sad, call me a loser. What ever floats your boat. But I am happy with my fun.
But from what I hear..living in SIN is the new thing..and since I am a trend spotter and "trendsetter" in my own little world, I might just jump on the SIN full bandwagon..but don't hold your breath.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Suitcase Full of Memories
It was Cyndi Lauper who first said this in her song "Time after Time". So today as I am sitting in office trying to concentrate on new concepts for the jazz festival, I find myself going back to way back when. Back to those moments in life that were defining, at times life altering, at times forgettable and at times funny. If you're someone like me, who has attended at least 15 different educational institutions in her 20 years of education, who has lived in 2 of the 7 continents, who has a best friend in different parts of the world, and who prides her self as being an global citizen, then to have a suitcase full of memories is an understatement, but still. It sounds good doesn't it? So hop into my virtual time machine as I take you Back to the future and countdown my best memories that helped make me who I am. This ought to be good.
Warning: Explicit content follows. Do not get offended by any of the incidents. They didn't happen to you, they happened to me. You are free to do some background research and check the accuracy.
PS- Just for your reference I was born in1985. Will help paint the entire picture more clearly.
Anything before 1989 is a blur. Excuse me if I cannot remember. I am only human. Plus I don't think you want me to mention the detail of being a tiny tot. Peeing in my diaper. Eating poop and anything else I could get my hands on. Being a big tub of blubber. Making unidentifiable noises and talking utter gibberish. You get the point. Don't act like you didn't do the same. Now on to the memories. Pre-school was full of play doe. Most of which I ate. Weird Salty taste. But I turned out pretty healthy.
1989. Kindergarten. So I was a 4 year old kid in an Islamic school in Garden Grove, Orange County, California. I learned Arabic and to set the record straight they didn't teach me how to hold a gun. The most memorable thing? Well lets just say I had a loud mouth. I questioned everything. I thought I was going to die back then because every day my nose would bleed profusely. And I pissed off my teacher on countless occasions and led her to the point of complete madness. In fact she screamed these words at me, " You bloody Indian". She was Pakistani. Go figure. So kindergarten. I was the weird nose bleeder who was also an Indian terrorist. All at the age of 4. Not bad eh? Yeah I had an early start.
1989, December27th- My 4th birthday at Disneyland. Sucked big time. I could only go on the kiddie rides because I wasn't tall enough to go on the bigger and badder rides. I cried and cried until Goofy, or the live sized version of Goofy rather, came and made my life better. Goofy is the man!...ok GOOFY IS THE CHARACTER. December 31. How did my parents and I bring in the New Year? With Salman Khan in Maine Pyar Kiya. I experienced love for the first time at the age of four, and I never forgot Salman after that. He was my hero and he still is. ::SIGH..Don't hate. True love never dies.
1990: After Salman came "New Kids on the Block". The first boy band (not the last) that I loved. By the age of 5 I had memorized the words to "Sweet Caroline" after my dad infused the Neil Diamond version in my head. Sorry Elvis. Neil helped me get obsessed with music. But your still the king. Following Neil, I hear that "Dancing Queen" was my first attempt and a Broadway production, singing and dancing included.
1991- 1992: 1st and 2nd grade was a breeze. I was chubby as ever but I did exceptionally well in sports and all the activities associated with boys. I won the long jump and the 100 ft sprint. Can you believe it. The fat kid prevailed. I was such a boy at this age that I think my parents got scared about my orientation and put my in Ballet classes. Yuck. Wrong decision. Putting a tom boy with short hair and duck feet in ballet shoes and a tutu. Disastrous. I lasted 6 months before I feigned injury. Hallelujah.
1993: Ace of Base. My first music album that was entirely mine and not my dads. I was a believer. Pop music was my life. I got the cd on my 8th birthday and I never looked back. It was by far the best birthday ever, with tons of gifts, a big party, a big puffy dress with a fake bow on my boy cut haired head and a lot of attention from everyone. Perfect.
1994: Disneyland was better at the age of 9. I could go on all the rides and I saw Michael Jackson. And as I recall it, I was a calm and composed 9 year old who just exclaimed at the site of the most famous pop star ever. According to my dad, I nearly had a heart attack at the age of 9 because I couldn't stop hyperventilating. I suggest you put both our stories together to understand the situation in its entirety.
1995-1997 Fourth grade was cool. It was at Beatty Elementary that I spent 3 years without moving. I was introduced to hip hop by the Spanish kid named Alex that sat next to me. Tupac had arrived, but not struck yet. 5th and 6th grade were my sunshine years, I excelled in school and for a change didn't get report cards that were bombarded with teacher remarks like "She's a bright kid but talks to much. She is capable of so much more". Aww Humbug. 6th grade I got my first pair of bell bottoms and got the coolest hair style in town, The layer cut. Yes I was on my way to girl hood. As I was ready to enter girl hood, Leonardo Dicaprio took over my life. Titanic Mania started and he was my poster boy. Even my mom and dad indulged me in the mania. I went on to see Titanic 12 times in the theater alone and "My heart will Go on" was my anthem. I used to sing it in the mirror to the boy I thought was waiting somewhere for me.. ha. that's funny. I have to laugh.
1998-1999: Junior High school. By far the toughest, craziest, weirdest, most life altering two years of my life. I entered as a tomboy but was ready to convert. However I could never break free. I was type cast. Stuck in my tomboy glory where guys thought of me as their friends and not girls they could like. I was in Honors classes and I was also Secretary of the student body and an editor of the school newspaper. I had it all, except the boy I liked. ::sigh...ok ok maybe not just one boy but, many. There are three memories I will never forget from junior high. The first one was when I had to go give my leadership speech and ask the class to vote for me. It was the scariest experience but one that I will never forget. Believe it or not I started by speech with borrowed words from Martin Luther King. " I have a dream...."The second memory is of my substitute teacher who has featured in another blog. Sam. He was the first older man in my life who paid me enough and more attention. He was that man. The man who made me feel like a woman without even knowing it. He's also the man who I fell in front of the whole class for. Yes. That's a day I will never forget. Junior High was full of talk on drugs, sex and alcohol. None of which I had interest in. I was too caught up with *NSYNC. The boy band of my dreams and at that point the very reason for my existence. By far the best memory from Junior high was my first NSYNC concert. It was perfect. Justin Timberlake was my new love. my new poster boy. my new reason for breathing. Yes it was that dramatic and intense.
2000-2003: High school. Yes its exactly like what you see on TV and in movies. The cliques. The identity crises. The bullies. The undeniable bonds and friendships. The crushes. The heartbreaks. The dances. The first kiss. The first heartbreak. The first real non celebrity love. I experienced it all. However unlike in the movies, I had four different schools in three different countries, in four years. In these four years I made the best friends who I still love and keep in touch with, the best *NSYNC concert (June 9, 2000), and my new found passion. Dance. However i was a closet dancer. I mean don't misunderstand. I did all the compulsory family gathering entertainment dances, I did the wedding dances, but it was dancing on a stage that gave me an undeniable unexplainable high. It was when I 17 that I indulged in my first under age activity. I got into a club without id to see Snoop Dogg and Xhibit. It was all worth it. Even if I am a criminal and committed a misdemeanor, at least I saw Snoop and got an unforgettable memory in the process. I graduated and finally made it to adulthood. It wasn't easy and without difficulty. In between all the fun came the near failed attempt at graduating, the SATs, Prom (that I didn't go to) and future changing decisions. Till now their were the Sabrinas, Cristinas, Marnitas, Aamirs, Afshins, Vareeshas, Maryams, Sonias, Subhanas, Nimas, Amrutas, Bineeshs, Johns, Phillips, Mohits, Monals, Brandons, Mujahids, Fahads. There were the good byes.
2004-2007: I made the wise decision to change countries and come to India. I was a confused Indian born, America returned Desi. Phew. Try finding a short form for that. I had the OC to remind me of the better and worse days. For the first time in my life I experienced what it felt like being in an all girls college. St. Francis College. I mean even in the Islamic school I had boys in my class. I was truly deprived, but I can't say I didn't enjoy it. Made the experience all the more fun. I mean come on I read books on what happened in all girls schools. It was fun. I became wiser, became bolder, and had a clearer goal in front of me. Just give me television, movies or music and I knew I had a future in it. Aristotle met Coleridge and Salt N Peppa. There was the youth and youth magazines. With fun meetings, cool bosses, neat co workers, and experiences galore. There were sleep overs, meeting boys on the side out of college, bunking, and long exam papers. There were Teachers day performances and There were crazy teachers. There were sons of teachers who helped me experience new things and brought sunshine. There were friends who encouraged my craziness. There were driving incidents where I drove on the wrong side of the road. The Mother Karunas. The psycho Priyas. The lean Shanti and the "mean" Nidhi. The fruity Farhas. The cheaters. The good ones. French Class. YUCK. Enough said.
2007-2009: SIMC. I loved it. Hated it. dreaded it. There were the incredible 8. The rakhi brothers. Prerna apartments. "Going with the Flow". Old Monk. Cutting Chai and wada pav at the Tapri. Aerobics and yoga aches. Photoshop pains. Convergent dreams. Greys Anatomy. Weight loss. Mother Theresa episodes. Bombay Madness with groping, poverty, insomnia and near death experiences. Footprint the FOC and FOC the DAM. Authoritarians and tyrants. Jail like hostels. "Smoke free" zones. Jumping the fence. Late Night Edits. Gossip Girls and Gossip Boys. Kabhi Sauten Kabhi Saheli. Panic attacks. Deliberation and the Deliberators. Suffocating room with a dysfunctional AC. Goa trips and other explorations. Bangalore dreams. The scandals and speculations. The revelations. Weight Gain. The freshers and the farewells.
Here on out, its a fresh clean slate. No more teachers in the classroom, only in the real world. No more absences or bunking sessions, only controlled attendance and pay slips. There are so many memories to revisit and so many I would like to forget. Whatever the case. It's been a trip so far. Thank you for coming along.
Warning: Explicit content follows. Do not get offended by any of the incidents. They didn't happen to you, they happened to me. You are free to do some background research and check the accuracy.
PS- Just for your reference I was born in1985. Will help paint the entire picture more clearly.
Anything before 1989 is a blur. Excuse me if I cannot remember. I am only human. Plus I don't think you want me to mention the detail of being a tiny tot. Peeing in my diaper. Eating poop and anything else I could get my hands on. Being a big tub of blubber. Making unidentifiable noises and talking utter gibberish. You get the point. Don't act like you didn't do the same. Now on to the memories. Pre-school was full of play doe. Most of which I ate. Weird Salty taste. But I turned out pretty healthy.
1989. Kindergarten. So I was a 4 year old kid in an Islamic school in Garden Grove, Orange County, California. I learned Arabic and to set the record straight they didn't teach me how to hold a gun. The most memorable thing? Well lets just say I had a loud mouth. I questioned everything. I thought I was going to die back then because every day my nose would bleed profusely. And I pissed off my teacher on countless occasions and led her to the point of complete madness. In fact she screamed these words at me, " You bloody Indian". She was Pakistani. Go figure. So kindergarten. I was the weird nose bleeder who was also an Indian terrorist. All at the age of 4. Not bad eh? Yeah I had an early start.
1989, December27th- My 4th birthday at Disneyland. Sucked big time. I could only go on the kiddie rides because I wasn't tall enough to go on the bigger and badder rides. I cried and cried until Goofy, or the live sized version of Goofy rather, came and made my life better. Goofy is the man!...ok GOOFY IS THE CHARACTER. December 31. How did my parents and I bring in the New Year? With Salman Khan in Maine Pyar Kiya. I experienced love for the first time at the age of four, and I never forgot Salman after that. He was my hero and he still is. ::SIGH..Don't hate. True love never dies.
1990: After Salman came "New Kids on the Block". The first boy band (not the last) that I loved. By the age of 5 I had memorized the words to "Sweet Caroline" after my dad infused the Neil Diamond version in my head. Sorry Elvis. Neil helped me get obsessed with music. But your still the king. Following Neil, I hear that "Dancing Queen" was my first attempt and a Broadway production, singing and dancing included.
1991- 1992: 1st and 2nd grade was a breeze. I was chubby as ever but I did exceptionally well in sports and all the activities associated with boys. I won the long jump and the 100 ft sprint. Can you believe it. The fat kid prevailed. I was such a boy at this age that I think my parents got scared about my orientation and put my in Ballet classes. Yuck. Wrong decision. Putting a tom boy with short hair and duck feet in ballet shoes and a tutu. Disastrous. I lasted 6 months before I feigned injury. Hallelujah.
1993: Ace of Base. My first music album that was entirely mine and not my dads. I was a believer. Pop music was my life. I got the cd on my 8th birthday and I never looked back. It was by far the best birthday ever, with tons of gifts, a big party, a big puffy dress with a fake bow on my boy cut haired head and a lot of attention from everyone. Perfect.
1994: Disneyland was better at the age of 9. I could go on all the rides and I saw Michael Jackson. And as I recall it, I was a calm and composed 9 year old who just exclaimed at the site of the most famous pop star ever. According to my dad, I nearly had a heart attack at the age of 9 because I couldn't stop hyperventilating. I suggest you put both our stories together to understand the situation in its entirety.
1995-1997 Fourth grade was cool. It was at Beatty Elementary that I spent 3 years without moving. I was introduced to hip hop by the Spanish kid named Alex that sat next to me. Tupac had arrived, but not struck yet. 5th and 6th grade were my sunshine years, I excelled in school and for a change didn't get report cards that were bombarded with teacher remarks like "She's a bright kid but talks to much. She is capable of so much more". Aww Humbug. 6th grade I got my first pair of bell bottoms and got the coolest hair style in town, The layer cut. Yes I was on my way to girl hood. As I was ready to enter girl hood, Leonardo Dicaprio took over my life. Titanic Mania started and he was my poster boy. Even my mom and dad indulged me in the mania. I went on to see Titanic 12 times in the theater alone and "My heart will Go on" was my anthem. I used to sing it in the mirror to the boy I thought was waiting somewhere for me.. ha. that's funny. I have to laugh.
1998-1999: Junior High school. By far the toughest, craziest, weirdest, most life altering two years of my life. I entered as a tomboy but was ready to convert. However I could never break free. I was type cast. Stuck in my tomboy glory where guys thought of me as their friends and not girls they could like. I was in Honors classes and I was also Secretary of the student body and an editor of the school newspaper. I had it all, except the boy I liked. ::sigh...ok ok maybe not just one boy but, many. There are three memories I will never forget from junior high. The first one was when I had to go give my leadership speech and ask the class to vote for me. It was the scariest experience but one that I will never forget. Believe it or not I started by speech with borrowed words from Martin Luther King. " I have a dream...."The second memory is of my substitute teacher who has featured in another blog. Sam. He was the first older man in my life who paid me enough and more attention. He was that man. The man who made me feel like a woman without even knowing it. He's also the man who I fell in front of the whole class for. Yes. That's a day I will never forget. Junior High was full of talk on drugs, sex and alcohol. None of which I had interest in. I was too caught up with *NSYNC. The boy band of my dreams and at that point the very reason for my existence. By far the best memory from Junior high was my first NSYNC concert. It was perfect. Justin Timberlake was my new love. my new poster boy. my new reason for breathing. Yes it was that dramatic and intense.
2000-2003: High school. Yes its exactly like what you see on TV and in movies. The cliques. The identity crises. The bullies. The undeniable bonds and friendships. The crushes. The heartbreaks. The dances. The first kiss. The first heartbreak. The first real non celebrity love. I experienced it all. However unlike in the movies, I had four different schools in three different countries, in four years. In these four years I made the best friends who I still love and keep in touch with, the best *NSYNC concert (June 9, 2000), and my new found passion. Dance. However i was a closet dancer. I mean don't misunderstand. I did all the compulsory family gathering entertainment dances, I did the wedding dances, but it was dancing on a stage that gave me an undeniable unexplainable high. It was when I 17 that I indulged in my first under age activity. I got into a club without id to see Snoop Dogg and Xhibit. It was all worth it. Even if I am a criminal and committed a misdemeanor, at least I saw Snoop and got an unforgettable memory in the process. I graduated and finally made it to adulthood. It wasn't easy and without difficulty. In between all the fun came the near failed attempt at graduating, the SATs, Prom (that I didn't go to) and future changing decisions. Till now their were the Sabrinas, Cristinas, Marnitas, Aamirs, Afshins, Vareeshas, Maryams, Sonias, Subhanas, Nimas, Amrutas, Bineeshs, Johns, Phillips, Mohits, Monals, Brandons, Mujahids, Fahads. There were the good byes.
2004-2007: I made the wise decision to change countries and come to India. I was a confused Indian born, America returned Desi. Phew. Try finding a short form for that. I had the OC to remind me of the better and worse days. For the first time in my life I experienced what it felt like being in an all girls college. St. Francis College. I mean even in the Islamic school I had boys in my class. I was truly deprived, but I can't say I didn't enjoy it. Made the experience all the more fun. I mean come on I read books on what happened in all girls schools. It was fun. I became wiser, became bolder, and had a clearer goal in front of me. Just give me television, movies or music and I knew I had a future in it. Aristotle met Coleridge and Salt N Peppa. There was the youth and youth magazines. With fun meetings, cool bosses, neat co workers, and experiences galore. There were sleep overs, meeting boys on the side out of college, bunking, and long exam papers. There were Teachers day performances and There were crazy teachers. There were sons of teachers who helped me experience new things and brought sunshine. There were friends who encouraged my craziness. There were driving incidents where I drove on the wrong side of the road. The Mother Karunas. The psycho Priyas. The lean Shanti and the "mean" Nidhi. The fruity Farhas. The cheaters. The good ones. French Class. YUCK. Enough said.
2007-2009: SIMC. I loved it. Hated it. dreaded it. There were the incredible 8. The rakhi brothers. Prerna apartments. "Going with the Flow". Old Monk. Cutting Chai and wada pav at the Tapri. Aerobics and yoga aches. Photoshop pains. Convergent dreams. Greys Anatomy. Weight loss. Mother Theresa episodes. Bombay Madness with groping, poverty, insomnia and near death experiences. Footprint the FOC and FOC the DAM. Authoritarians and tyrants. Jail like hostels. "Smoke free" zones. Jumping the fence. Late Night Edits. Gossip Girls and Gossip Boys. Kabhi Sauten Kabhi Saheli. Panic attacks. Deliberation and the Deliberators. Suffocating room with a dysfunctional AC. Goa trips and other explorations. Bangalore dreams. The scandals and speculations. The revelations. Weight Gain. The freshers and the farewells.
Here on out, its a fresh clean slate. No more teachers in the classroom, only in the real world. No more absences or bunking sessions, only controlled attendance and pay slips. There are so many memories to revisit and so many I would like to forget. Whatever the case. It's been a trip so far. Thank you for coming along.
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