I say that you're a liar.



Go on, go on, go on, go on and dream. Your house is on fire.

I had a nightmare of sorts this morning. I was in a restaurant seated at a table across from Michael Jackson. He was wearing that blue tracksuit from the Invincible Virgin Megastore signing. His hair looked like it did in 2004. He looked good. Healthy.
He and I were having a conversation, I don't remember the content now, but I do recall that he was just about to make an important statement to me. Perhaps about a career move? He stood up from his seat and made direct eye contact with a slight smile on his face.
I looked up at him expectantly. It was going to be good news, so I was smiling in anticipation. I remember being excited to share my encounter with my sister.
Then just as he opened his mouth to speak...his face transformed. It became something grotesque, absolutely bloated and puffy. His lips yellowed, shriveled and curled into a horribly involuntary sneer. Large purple bruises encircled his eyes, which rolled back in his head. My own eyes widened in horror. His knees gave and he started to sink to the floor. I screamed, stood up out of my chair and grabbed his face with both hands...as if I could stop it, as if to protect him from it.
Then I woke up.
I might have screamed out loud, but of course, I can't be sure.
I am sure about the feeling, however. It was a terrible sensation of desperation & being helpless to help him.
I feel like such a little bitch, but even at 4 months I still miss him so terribly.

And if I do...I miss my lifeboat?
I just need to focus and stop letting this become bigger than it is. I can salvage what is left if I just focus.
I could use a drink or two and some cake right now.

It is the worst feeling in the world.
To mourn so intensely for..a stranger. There's too much guilt and longing attached to it. I want it to stop.
There are moments where the grief just hits me and I get so overwhelmed with this deep, unmovable sorrow.
I don't like its constant recurrence & its compounding nature.
I can't understand it & I'm beginning to relish its cathartic notion less and less.
I have my own sad problems to tend to.
I have important things I need to focus on.
I'm sick of this.
If I felt silly weeping over a stranger at the time of his death, I feel absolutely ridiculous continuing to do so more than 2 months later.
I can't deny that I continue to miss him. I feel ridiculous and bitter.

Happy Birthday, Michael. I still can't convey how much I miss you.

Demerol? Oh my, his God is Demerol?
Yeah. So, a week later & I'm still having trouble digesting the news...and its full impact. I feel silly weeping over a person that I essentially did not know..never met..never even saw perform live in person. But the feeling I experienced & continue to experience in light of the news of his death is very tangible, visceral and real. I'm certainly more than a casual fan. I mean, eighteen or so years between a fan and an artist is a long & significant relationship. An indirect and at times remote relationship..but a true and full one nonetheless. One that can be very personal.

The devastation (and shock) that I feel is on a scale larger than I ever expected.
I'm interested in pop culture in general. I enjoy analyzing it. I enjoy studying it. I probably spend too much time on it.
I've always been the first to acknowledge that I take the music I listen to & the people who create it very seriously. I am not a casual listener. I seek complete context. In that way, I connect myself to these people, these artists, in such a manner that it really becomes a huge investment.

( ...or living in make believe. )

Let's move on from Michael, shall we? I could write about shit like this endlessly, so I'm just going to stop now and change the subject.

( Jet lag becomes her.  )

My plan for today?

Screwdrivers, hella junkfood, and an evening of Nicolas Cage action movies.
But first, I need to sleep.

I have no paper clips so I literally had to clip my notes for Advanced Accounting Topics together with bobby pins this morning. Bobby pins. Fucking bobby pins. I am not even happy that this semester has ended because all it means is that I've lost all my chances to redeem my grades.
& now all I have to look forward to is resuming my self-studying for the CPA exam.
When the fuck will I get to enjoy my life?
Bobby pins! WHAT HAVE I BECOME?

Don't this shit make my people wanna jump, jump? Just got home from the office party. We almost went bar-hopping as a group near the end, but thankfully it didn't pan out. I drank Courvoisier, listened to the Executive Director talk institute politics with various professors, laughed a lot, & fielded awkward questions & jokes in front of my father.
It was interesting.

Instead of the H&O show on Friday, I'll be going to the office party; mistake.
Bro, I'm so ashamed.
I had hoped to somehow impulsively get tickets to the concert at the last minute. Unrealistic, of course, but a romantic plan nonetheless. Instead, I'll probably end up spending the night in careful conversation with assorted professors & co-workers, smiling and reciting rehearsed replies to questions. Dutifully networking. With Possession Obsession set to a montage of images of Daryl Hall building houses playing in the back of my mind.
& tears streaming down my face.
Haha, okay, I'm kidding about the tears part...maybe. No, I really am bummed about not going to the H&O show. Seriously. Not going is the perfect way to start the end of a distinctly crappy semester.

One of the four suitemates of mine whose room is right next to mine has some heinous gas right now. It sounds like she's freaking moving furniture in there. Ugh.
So, Hall & Oates are playing in Atlanta at Chastain on April 17th. That's a motherfucking Friday. Tickets go on sale tomorrow. I so want to go. I have no excuses except no one to go with (which is necessary because I need a ride). I can't think of any of my friends who like Hall & Oates enough to pay to see them. My sister is game, but she doesn't have a car either. Maybe I can somehow drag my Dad into this...I forced him to listen to them on the way home from a family trip a few years ago & he didn't protest too much. Hmm.
What do you think of a Phd in Management? I'm thinking about it. I am already turned off of Actuarial Science after the lady I met with was a bit of a condescending bitch.
I need to go to sleep early tonight! Like right now! I totally slept in and had to call in sick to work today. Shit. Good night!

I fear the whole world is starting to believe you.

Have you ever had an iced coffee that was half warm? It is not a pleasant experience, especially when it is unexpected. The Saxby's barista at the library who made this white chocolate mocha this time leaves much to be desired.

Suddenly, it's hit me, as I sit here brought almost to tears over a mundane & difficult International Accounting homework assignment (pathetic, I'm well aware): I have no social stimulation here in downtown Atlanta, even after living here for roughly 8 months now. I don't know my way around and I have no one to explore with so I stay at home in front of my computer all the time whenever I'm not in class or at work.

I cannot believe that I romanticized being so alone as a child. I pictured myself, grown up and sophisticated, alone in an apartment for one. Painting something on a canvas. Wearing a black turtle neck. Drinking something alcoholic. In the daydream of my youth it was probably red wine. Which I now know that I dislike, so in the daydream of now, it would be vodka mixed with something fruity. Maybe a screwdriver. Or white wine. I don't mind white wine. Anyway, back to it: I'd be struggling to make ends meet, but thoroughly enjoying the starving artist cliché with all honesty. When it comes down to it, I'm so far from that silly dream. I'm in graduate school...not out of a desire to educate myself any further, but rather out of a fear to face the real world with its deadlines, expectations, employee performance reviews, parallel parking, and whatnot.

I try to convince myself that everyone goes through at least one period in their life where they are alone and have no friends to call on. But I'm really getting sick of always eating by myself. This feeling is not unlike what I experienced in Singapore a couple years ago, only more magnified and much more bothersome. Maybe I've forgotten how to showcase my personality. I do have one. A pretty great one, if I say so myself. I've forgotten how to socialize? Well, most likely, I haven't yet learned how to socialize properly. Seamlessly. I cut off my socializing for a while for a good reason. That reason still exists, but I was later able to make some friends around it. Sure, I'd even gotten pretty good at masking my deficiency. Always the one to make a quick quip & get a laugh. But now that I'm alone it's becoming painfully obvious that I'm totally lost.

Lost in a major I have no ambition or passion for, perhaps? No, not really. I mean, that I can deal with. Well..maybe not. Sure, I get depressed about it constantly, but I'm always overcome with a sense of responsibility to myself (no, really to others) to keep up what I try to convince myself is not a charade. A responsibility to see this through because I feel it is truly too late to do something else. I'm already doing a freaking Masters for crying out loud! How can I possibly backtrack to my Undecided major from sophomore year of undergrad now!? Sometimes I do wish I would have the courage to stop this and tell everyone, "Hey! Sorry guys! I fucked up! I really did, and I understand that this announcement is way late and that I had so many chances to make it earlier that I just didn't take out of fear & stupidity, but...guess what? I'm ready to finally take charge of the situation and do something I enjoy! Something I can handle! Aren't you happy for me?" Hahaha, that is never going to happen. But maybe there is still an out. Once I graduate in December, if I don't find a job (and the way things are going, I probably won't anytime soon), I will lose my health insurance. I'll only continue to have health insurance if I keep going to school! Maybe I can use this opportunity to get yet another degree. Only this time, it could be a degree that I can feel comfortable with. One I care about at least a little.

Ultimately, I suppose I'm lost in being alone. Which I guess makes it somewhat cruelly ironic...that I am alone and therefore don't even have to worry about anyone picking up on my loss of social skills. It completely works for as well as against itself. How positively neat.
I guess I should get back to my homework.

Just now, as I was walking into my apartment building, a homeless guy was walking towards me. I immediately sped up my walk to the door and frowned extra hard to show him I meant business and wasn't going to stop to entertain him or hear whatever babble he was preparing to say. He just smiled and was like..."You shouldn't be so serious all the time. Being too serious is bad for your health." So I smiled wide after I passed him. Asshole.

I really want some oreos.
I'm off to Vegas in a few hours.
I don't want to go.

I got a 107% on my Accounting Theory final. THE HIGHEST GRADE OUT OF 48 OTHER MOTHERFUCKERS. FUCK YEAH.

YOU GET AWAY FROM ME.

His line: So what is your room number? You may need me to help you washing your long & beautiful hair or for a massage after your busy day.

My answer, after I sat in incredulous shock for about a minute: Uh, I'm pretty self-sufficient when it comes to washing my own hair, etc, so all that's unnecessary. I remember you said you were in the doctoral program for economics, right? How long have you been in the program? I'm actually considering maybe doing a PhD in accounting after my Masters. How do you like the doctoral program so far?

What I wanted to say: Fall back bitch, this is not your shit. I've talked to you once about motherfucking scholarly subjects that were so far from anything suggestive that I can't understand or believe you're trying this shit on me now. FUCK OFF. FUCK THE FUCK OFF, FUCKING MOTHERFUCKER.

He wants to wash my fucking hair? That shit made me more uncomfortable than being hit on by random homeless guys while walking to class/work. What is wrong with people? I was trying to NETWORK and this asshole only cares about coming onto me? FUCK THIS BULLSHIT.

I finally got my new laptop.
It is glossy and I am in love.
I also finally found a good copy of the Carpenter's Live In Japan album.
I'm even more in love.
This live version of Mr. Guder is fucking sublime.
I don't want to wake up for work tomorrow or take the quiz I just realized I'm going to have in Supply Chain Mgt.
Damn.

I really want some cake and vodka, but sadly, I have neither.

I just came home from an info. session in the business school and on my way to the shuttle a seemingly homeless girl struck up a conversation with me. I was waiting to cross the road, and was leaning over to look down the street to see if any restaurants were open. The girl came up next to me and said, "It's safe to cross, honey." I smiled because obviously I knew that. She and I started to cross and she proceeded to kindly (and unnecessarily, haha) explain the walk/don't walk signs to me. She was so bubbly, so I just smiled and nodded as if she were really enlightening me. "You're looking beautiful tonight," she said. I laughed and thanked her. "You're just all giggles! I'm going to call you Giggles. You know, my mother was called Giggles. She's deceased." I replied that I was sad to hear that. She then said, "My name is Aiesha. Just keep me in your prayers. I am seventeen years old and I'm HIV positive and I'm 4 months pregnant." She lifted up her shirt to reveal her protruding belly. I nodded with a sympathetic expression. "I ask people for help...I just asked a police officer if I could have his food, he was throwing it away, and he just pushed me! He said NO! and pushed me!" Naturally, I commiserated with her and offered another sympathetic nod. Then she said, "I just need help, all I'm asking for is a little help." She turned to me and I knew what was coming so I stopped walking, interrupted her, and reached into my purse. I looked directly into her eyes and said, "You know, you are very lucky because I rarely do this, but I'll give you a twenty." I handed the bill to her and her face just...exploded into this huge smile and her eyes just LIT UP. She took the bill from my hand and before I could say anything else, she threw her arms around me and gave me the most suffocating hug. "THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!" When she finally let go of me, she asked me my name. I told her and she said thank you again. She started off in the same direction as me, and then had an epiphany and stopped to exclaim, "I'm going to Mickey D's!" and then she and I parted ways.
Her story could've been fake. In fact, it most likely was, apart from her obvious pregnancy..but I don't give a fuck.
I usually flat out ignore panhandlers, but I was just feeling hella charitable on a whim, yo.
That crazy hug was worth it. But this is the last time. My cynicism has fully set in.
Also, I felt like I was making up for not giving anything to the people who approached me in Vrindavan. I don't know, it makes no sense, but still.

So, tonight I got home just in time for Hillary's DNC speech. I LOLed at "sisterhood of the traveling pantsuits" and teared up at the part where she talked about Harriet Tubman and not stopping if you hear the dogs (I am lame, haha) and getting a taste of freedom & whatnot. I am very excited about this year's election. It's the first one I can vote in. I will be so depressed if McCain wins.

If you comment, I'll check out your LJ profile. In particular, the interests section. I will then pick three "interests" and ask you to explain them. You then post an LJ entry (or just reply as a comment) explaining those three interests, along with this explanation.

pmax3 asked me to explain the following three:

( Eminem )

( India )

( Physics )

Mozambique or was it Veronique? How about
you pick the subject & I'll listen to you.

Me (sans a laptop!), two suitcases, and I'm coming to see you.
From Atlanta to Chicago to Frankfurt to Chennai to Kerala to Chennai to Delhi to Frankfurt to Atlanta.
They're going to want to know how it was being there after six years.
My great uncle would send me poetic text messages. That's what I'll miss the most.
I am also selfishly relieved to soon be leaving India only since it is in a period of unrest with the bombing. I do care..it's just my apathy and cynicism setting in.
I keep thinking I've lost something.
I look down
and it's only you.

The day after my internship ended, Parthiv Chettan (who I hadn't seen in over ten years), a cousin of his (Dinesh or something), and some girl who was the cousin's friend (I never caught her name) went out--to be celebrating Chennai-style only, yaar.
We went to this club called Dublin. It was 21 plus...In fact, Parthiv was the only one in our group of four people who was of age. Our plan was to just follow Parthiv into the club, so if they aksed for IDs, he would show his and we would just try to file in after him, haha. I was very doubtful of this ~great master plan~ since Parthiv is pretty short and looks younger than his age (at least I think so) but they didn't check IDs so I got in without incident.
Before we got actually there, Dinesh pulled over to smoke a joint with Parthiv and the girl. I don't smoke, so I was like, whatever. The girl, however, was all bragging about how it smelled like a sweet joint, blah, blah, blah but when she finally inhaled she coughed for like 5 minutes straight. It was pretty clear that she was just talking big to impress Parthiv & I. It didn't work, haha.
Anyway, when we finally got there, the place was empty. Maybe ten other people were there? Parthiv and Dinesh hadn't had dinner so we decided to leave to get something to eat and then come back later. Originally we were going to go for Chinese, but there was a long wait at the restaurant we tried. After driving around for a while they finally settled on a little pastry shop. About an hour had passed by this time and they figured that the club would've filled up so Dinesh called a shitload of his friends who were already way wasted and told them to come.
We all met in the lobby and those who hadn't entered the club yet started pairing off. Couples got in way cheaper than singles..but one guy came up short. Most of them were high out their minds and we all just stood there for about 10 minutes and no one was making any decisions so I tore off my little bracelet thing and said I'd go with him but that someone else would have to pay for my half since I had already paid. He was very high, but very nice and said that he'd cover it.
This is where the night became a people-watcher's dream.
The second we walked in the club, the guy I had paired off with seemingly disappeared from my side. I looked around for a second and then he reappeared.

( He had literally pop-locked his way about ten feet away from me. You really need to keep reading this ish. It gets willy nilly. )

So...I think my wisdom teeth are coming in..only the top ones.
No excruciating pain, though, so I guess that's a good thing. Haha, I remember going with my Dad to see an orthodontist to get the 411 on my wisdom teeth after I got my braces off years ago. The orthodontist, of course, was all, "Oh..we should take them out immediately, blah blah blah." My Dad was all, "Fall back dentist man, this is not your shit." My Dad has never had braces but his teeth are immaculately straight. They're freaking perfect. He never had his wisdom teeth taken out and basically thinks it's a waste of money to do so. I remember I was so happy to agree with him..but just because I'm a total wuss and didn't want to get any form of surgery. So I was able to get out of it then. I wonder if that will change now.

Let me sleep, and dream of George Jackson.

Today at work I was typing away at my keyboard, my eyes on the ancient monitor in front of me, (It's a Compaq S540 excavated from the IT pool. The PC is the kind that lies flat under the monitor, but the IT guys decided it would be better under the desk...where my leg space should be. One day I was idly resting my feet on it when an IT guy walked by and was all..."Feet! Off!" Oh please, this computer is crap anyway. As if my dainty little foot is going to obliterate it Godzilla stylee. Hardly.) when some guy across from me a few rows in front stood up. Naturally, eyes go where motion is, so I glanced up from my computer screen and saw that he was just staring straight at me with this smile on his face. I looked back blankly. Then just as I was about to look down and get back to typing, he wiggled his eyebrows up and down at me...seriously. It was just like a bad pick up attempt from a teen movie or something. I was floored. Not by him, mind you, but by the fact that he thought such a method might result in anything but failure. I was so confused. I frowned at him with a question on my face. He kept up with the goofy smile. I promptly looked down with knitted eyebrows. I didn't want him to mistake my incredulous expression for interest.

The men in this office are so weird.