You say it's not a sword!

Sweet dreams? You say, you say, you say that you have them.

Mon, 26 Oct 2009 01:52:40 GMT

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.

That is supposing that you don't sleep tonight.

Fri, 25 Sep 2009 04:44:57 GMT

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.

Michael, Michael, eles não ligam pra gente.

Sat, 29 Aug 2009 04:56:39 GMT

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.

No time for castles in space.

Fri, 03 Jul 2009 16:02:01 GMT

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.

Not only was Michael Jackson the first artist I exhibited an interest in independently...his music was the first that I studied.

I remember I once thought that perhaps people might revere a man they once absolutely ridiculed. It was just three years ago, actually. Someone posed a question every fan considers at some point & I responded without thinking:

I kind of feel like the general public is going to realize what asses they were only after his death, you know? and that all these secret MJ fans are gonna suddenly come out of the woodwork and proclaim their love for him and act like they were with him all along..because that seems to happen a lot once an artist dies. You know? Suddenly it's cool to like them...I don't know. I feel like MJ is gonna be remembered for his musical legend, not all the crap the press puts out (obviously) but I mean even with non-fans. It's gonna be such a sad day! But like others said, I think we have a long, LONG while before we have to worry.

Clearly, I was wrong. Wrong about the general public being respectful enough of a dead man with a family to not turn his death into yet another tired & unnecessary tabloid circus story & wrong about having a long while before his death. I think I was right, however, about the after-death phenomenon where an artist suddenly becomes everyone's favorite just because he or she has died & it becomes the 'in' thing to do.
Does it make sense that I feel an almost angry (and definitely nonsensical) protectiveness over Michael concerning these new post-death "fans"? The dude is dead. It doesn't even affect him, really. I'm so ridiculous, haha.

I do feel a little selfish mourning him so intensely when I'm only a fan. Almost like..I'm disrespecting his family and friends, those who really knew him, in a way..by feeling a loss so deeply that I am essentially removed from as a virtual stranger. Though I will say that Michael was one of those rare artists that a fan could feel really connected to. Like, when he would say, 'I love my fans,' each fan might feel it as if he were addressing him or her individually.

I once heard a fan of Mickey Rourke say of Mickey, "I find it so poignant and beautiful that he somehow managed to become both beauty and beast in one lifetime. It makes him so unique and fascinating," and I believe that the same sentiment may applie to Michael...

I'm not sure how to convey how much he & his music have meant to me over the years. I'm not a throwaway blindly delusional fan by any means, (I do not think he's faking his death like some fans unfortunately do, come on people, I realize we're all blindsided but wake the fuck up. You're only hurting yourselves.) & yet I've never loved another artist quite like I have MJ.
Any fan who is more than just a casual listener will understand what I mean when I say that we reveled in Michael's successes, tirelessly defended his eccentric antics, felt a degree of his pain, & certainly mourn his passing to the fullest extent. I think the fact that my mourning is so intense for someone I never met just speaks to what a great person he was.

He was an incredibly endearing persona, really. Heartbreakingly endearing!
The mainstream media just chose to ignore it over the years!

He had his own personal accent...a Michael Jaccent, if you will, haha. "I am un-nured to accept this a-wurd." Child became chowwld. World became whirld. Ugh, adorable.
He joked that taking the skin off of Kentucky Fried Chicken made it 'organic.'
& who else would even care to worry about whether we had lost the trust of elephantswith such forceful, earnest concern? Only Michael Jackson, hahaha! :') He was such a Disney character.

It's difficult to reconcile all these different emotions that his death has evoked.

To use his own words: [Michael], forgive us...Those men who raise their [pens] over you are also fathers and brothers and sons. They have loved and cared for others. One day they will extend that love to you. Be sure of it and trust.

Anyway, I'm going to miss that fly-ass motherfucker so much.

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.

Flight from Atlanta to Shanghai: 16 hours.

While waiting in the gate before boarding, I noticed that the girl seated across from me was staring at me very intently. I smiled to break the tension & she returned the smile & went back to reading her book. However, only a couple minutes passed before she was staring again. I grew a little self-conscious. Suddenly, she whipped a sketchbook out of her carry-on bag & flipped to an empty page. She proceeded to sketch for a few minutes. She kept stealing glances at me. It finally dawned on me that I was the subject of her sketch when I caught a glimpse of my face on the page. She would scribble and scratch with her pencil & show the book to her mother seated next to her to get approval.
Self-consciousness overwhelmed me. I could feel my ears burn, my eyes widen, my mouth curl into an involuntary, irrepressible embarrassed smile. I tried to stay cool, but years of being teased as a kid has made me extremely uncomfortable with being stared at like that. Yes, even at 21 years old. You'd think I'd get over it by now, haha. Thankfully, my seat was in the back of the plane so the girl got up to board before me and I had a few minutes to just relax before boarding.

The flight itself was okay. I had a middle seat between a window and aisle seat, so it sucked to have to choreograph my visits to the bathroom with Aisle Seat Woman..who never seemed to fail to have something for me to watch whenever she got up. "Can you keep an eye on my laptop while I go the bathroom?" Sure, lady, but what about my bladder?
I watched a couple movies. He's Just Not That Into You and New In Town. Both were forgettable.

At the end of the flight, I noticed all the Chinese passengers had taken out their cameras and were snapping away at something I couldn't yet see approaching in the aisles.
H1N1 Quarantine?
Before we could deplane, people dressed in all-over, all-encompassing white suits that only exposed the face (which was further half-concealed with a surgeons'/painters' mask) wielding thermometer guns and oral thermometers walked through the aisles. They held the thermometer guns up to peoples' foreheads. They administered the oral thermometer to those passengers with high temperatures & all the passengers chattered excitedly & pointed. How humiliating, I thought.

I should've known. I did feel warm..I had turned off the AC mid-flight. Great.
Once the white-clad people got to me, the temperature gun revealed a displeasing temperature. Of course. Just my luck. An oral thermometer was pointed at my face and I unconsciously left my mouth open after it had been placed under my tongue. I was too busy staring at all the passengers who were now wide-eyed, pointing & staring at me. Oh god.
The woman holding the thermometer impatiently gestured for me to close my mouth around it. I did. She took my temperature and walked on without a word. Mortifying.
Welcome to Shanghai.

2nd night in Shanghai: I was leaving a bar, walking from the door to the road when I heard a loud screech. I looked up. A woman on a bicycle-drawn cart had just turned onto the road from a small street parallel to the bar, perpendicular to the main road. A taxi came careening behind her cart & clipped the corner of it at full speed with such force that the cart flipped onto its side, the woman was thrown into the road, & the taxi fish-tailed slightly as it kept on driving away. I had just hailed a taxi myself to go back to the hotel, but by that time a man who had also witnessed the accident had scooped up the woman, whose knee was bleeding raw & hips were bent in a disconcerting fashion. I stepped back and gave them my taxi. They sped off to the hospital, I assume.

I can finally use chopsticks. I have no idea what I'm doing differently all of a sudden, but it's become so easy for me. A stark difference to just a few months ago.
I am almost too excited about it, hahaha.

^This image no longer applies to me! Yeayuhhh.

Unlike in Singapore, everyone in Shanghai stared at me because I obviously look different and have such long hair. I felt like a total circus freak by the end of my stay & it was hard to keep from glaring back at the perpetrators.

When I was leaving the hotel after my last night in Shanghai, one of the concierge dudes approached me. He told me that he didn't see me come in the night before after leaving the hotel at midnight & that he had stayed up all night waiting to be sure that I returned. I smiled and told him he had seen my twin sister leaving the hotel, returning to her dorm room, and that I was in the hotel room all night. He was so surprised, hahaha. He didn't realize I had a twin. I can't believe he waited up all night. Sweet guy.

Flight from Shanghai to Tokyo: 3 hours? 2?
I watched a little of 17 Again. I almost turned it off 2 minutes in when Zac Efron's character started doing some ridiculous MC Hammer shit with cheerleaders. I did turn it off after about 20 minutes.

THEN I made the mistake of casually paging though the in-flight magazine.
I happened upon a July calendar entitled 'The Hot List: The people, places and things you'll be talking about this month.' The very first item was MJ's This Is It! tour. The magazine was obviously printed before his death: The King of Pop created a frenzy when tickets went on sale for his exclusive "This Is It!" performances at London's O2 Arena. The thrills commence July 8 and don't beat it until February 24, 2010.
Only no thrills will be commencing at all. How depressing.
I'm almost comforted by the fact that I was in Shanghai, in unfamiliar surroundings, when I heard the news of Michael's death. It offers a weak form of closure in a way. As if I can try to leave the sad memories in that hotel room in China for the time being.
Oops. I said I would change the subject, didn't I? My bad.

I had a 5 hour layover in Tokyo. Nothing exciting.

Flight from Tokyo to Atlanta: 15 hours.
A woman who had her 3 year old daughter with her gave my father and I two small containers of cherries about an hour before the flight ended. She had brought too much for her kid, apparently. They were cheapo plastic containers, but I still debated with my Dad for a couple minutes about whether she was expecting us to return the empty containers. He totally shut me down, haha. Yes, that is the most interesting thing about this flight that I have to share.
Riveting stuff, I know.

I've realized that I can't live away from my laptop. I'm definitely taking it with me to Australia. I just hope I have internet access where I'm staying.

I'm stepping outta here. Where I'm going, I don't know.

Tue, 16 Jun 2009 07:52:19 GMT

I haven't applied to take any sections of the CPA exam yet. I've decided it's too much pressure to assign myself to a date just yet. It's might be a bad idea that'll come back to bite me in the ass later, but I figure I have a little wiggle time to take it, so whatever. I'm still studying; it's just...so tedious. This summer has turned out to be more...busy for me than I thought it would be & I have less time for studying than I thought I would. We'll see how I feel in a few weeks, I guess.

I'm going to be out of town until early August or so. I'm flying to Shanghai with the family tomorrow morning (ugh, the flight is at 9am or something, so we have to wake up crazy early...wait...I've stayed up all night as usual so maybe I'll just sleep on the plane. It's like a 16 hour flight or something! Direct! No stops! But I love airports & flying, especially long flights, so I'm totally excited.) to hang out with my sister who's doing a study abroad semester there for the summer. That will be a little over 2 weeks, and then my Dad, Mom, & I come home for only one day before flying to Australia to hang out with my Dad while he does some academic research stuff with a university there. My Dad surprised me with the Australia news about 2 weeks ago, but we still haven't told Mom yet. We'll surprise her with it once we're in China. I hope that goes over okay.

I don't even want to think of the crazy jet lag I'll no doubt be experiencing. Hopefully my current insomnia habit will help to soften the blow a little.
The whole family went to Australia when I was in 5th grade, 1997, or something, for Christmas break since my Dad was working there with the same university. It was a really fun trip & though I'm excited to go back to Australia at an age where I can perhaps better appreciate it..I'm a little worried at the same time. My dad told me that there has been a recent wave of violent, perhaps racist, attacks on Indian students studying in Australia. It's pretty unnerving to think about. Here's a link to a news story on it. But, despite all that, I'm still excited. I hope everything goes well!

One of my friends' niece was just born a few days ago. She's a premie. My sister & I were 3 months premature at slightly less than 2 lbs each. It made me think of names for potential children... For a girl I like 'Meera' or 'Mira.' It means prosperous in Sanskrit, which is cool I suppose, but really I just like the way it sounds. For a boy I like 'Ashok.' It means not causing sorrow in Sanskrit. Ashok was actually my Dad's name for like 28 days before his grandfather just decided he was going to change it to Krishna, haha. However, the thought of how badly butchered it could get as far as American pronunciations makes me wary, haha. It hadn't occurred to me to ever think of middle names, since I don't have one. My Mom doesn't either. My Dad does, though: 'Swaroop.' True nature in Sanskrit. Maybe I could just use Ashok as a middle name for a boy and think of something more ~pronunciation friendly~ for a first name. (Which is bullshit, really, I hate when people act like they can't pronounce my name because ~it's too ethnic~ or some shit excuse. IT IS SO EASY. IT TAKES NO EFFORT. Radhika...RAH-THEE-KAH. Everyone pretends they can't say THEE and can only manage DEE. THEE BITCHES. HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF SHAKESPEARE? SHIT'S NOT HARD OMG./rant) It's so far off in the future (if it happens at all) that I obviously don't have to worry about it just yet, hahaha. Shit, I don't even like kids.

Hm, Ashok & Meera/Mira could be interesting dog names. But I also like Applehead or Heavy for a dog.

I think I'll have intermittent email access in Shanghai..so, I should be able to check emails but I'm not sure. I mean, it's China, so the internet situation regarding blocked sites will be iffy.
Anyway, I totally need to finish packing! & I need to take a shower. We leave for the airport in basically a little over an hour or something. Fuck time management.

I'm falling in love with your favorite song.

Sun, 14 Jun 2009 08:33:13 GMT

1. One of the earliest songs you can remember listening to:
Careless Whisper-Wham!
I remember that listening to the saxophone in this song made me feel so sophisticated when I was a little kid, hahaha.

2. Song you currently can't get out of your head:
Rock That Body-Black Eyed Peas
I love this song. It is such a jam. It makes me want to rock. Right. Now.

3. Song by the artist you last saw live:
Bitch Went Nutz-Ben Folds
He puts on a good show.

4. Song by someone who is dead:
My Heart Belongs To Daddy-Anna Nicole Smith (Cole Porter cover)
Man, RIP, Anna Nicole, RIP, haha.

5. Song that pumps you up:
A Man's Talk-Roots Manuva
This is like a fly as hale pep talk every time I listen to it. I'm not really sure why.

6. Song you love to sing along to:
Got To Get You Into My Life-The Beatles
This is one of the rare songs I will sing to out loud, haha. It's irresistible.

7. Song you totally misunderstood the first time you heard it:
Cornflake Girl-Tori Amos
Haha, when I first heard this song I had two initial deductions of what it was about...
First, bear with me here, I thought maybe Tori could be singing about a racial situation in the 1960s. A 'Cornflake Girl' could be the typical 1960s white girl who agreed with the culture of racial discrimination and prejudice that surrounded her. Tori, however, was a girl who saw past the prejudice and hung out with the 'Raisin Girls,' or the typical 1960s black girl. Yeah..I don't even know. I had a way active imagination.
Second, I thought that perhaps 'Cornflake Girl' was Tori's definition of the cookie-cutter female recording artist. At a time when artists like Mariah Carey and Madonna were releasing videos and singles blatantly displaying their sexuality, and not much of their actual talent, Tori was "hanging with the raisin girls" and doing her own thang, girlfraand.
...yea.
Turns out the song's actually about girls just being bitches to each other. Go figure.

8. Love song:
The Lady In My Life (Alternate Lyrics Version)-Michael Jackson
This is basically just a standard r&b slow jam, but I love it regardless. Michael ironically disses castles and make-believe in this version. Really, Michael? Who are you? Hahaha. <3
& there's a point where I swear he sings fill you with the sweetest love, (ohhh the sweeeeetest juuunk). OH, IS THAT SO? When you croon it like that, go for it, boy. Fill me with your sweetest junk.

9. Song that makes you nostalgic:
Yesterday Once More-The Carpenters
This song is so...well, nostalgic, hah. Karen Carpenter's voice is perfection in general. It really doesn't matter what she's singing. In the lyrics she describes feeling the music so strongly. It's exactly how I feel about listening to music. Plus, I first heard this song in 1997 when I found a tape of The Singles 1969-1973 in the house of family friends we were house-sitting for one summer in Colorado. That was an awesome summer..so it does actually make me nostalgic a little, haha. And the "oldies, oldies but goodies" line always cracks me up.

10. Sad song:
Take The Box (Original Demo)-Amy Winehouse
I hope this fantastic bitch is pulling herself together.

11. Song that makes you laugh:
My Fault-Eminem
Classic.

12. Song that makes you want to dance:
Fancy Footwork-Chromeo
I cannot dance by any stretch of the imagination, but this is one of those songs that make it impossible not to try.

13. Song with food in the title:
Soda Pop-Britney Spears
This song is still my jam 10 years later.

14. Song about dreaming or waking up:
Suspended-Kelis feat. Pharrell Williams
Pharrell's refrain of "No. Wake up, bitch." turns this song into something entirely exciting, fresh, and intriguing (at least to me). Let's just say it's way better than Milkshake.

15. Song that creeps you out:
Under Ice-Kate Bush
This song gives me chills in the best way.

16. Really good cover song:
Enjoy the Silence (Live at the Strange Little Webcast)-Tori Amos (Depeche Mode cover)
The original is awesome, and this is a crazy good take on it.

17. A remix of a song:
Womanizer (Loose Shus Remix)-Britney Spears
This is a great mix that really revitalizes the song.

18. A mashup of songs:
No More Gas-DJ Earworm
This mashup is seamless. Its mashed up lyrics tell a story about pop culture all on its own. I love it! It contains Disturbia-Rihanna, Dangerous-Kardinal Offishall feat. Akon, Closer-Ne-Yo, American Boy-Estelle feat. Kanye West, When I Grow Up-Pussycat Dolls, Bleeding Love-Leona Lewis, Damaged-Danity Kane, 4 Minutes-Madonna feat. Justin Timberlake & Timbaland, Superstar-Lupe Fiasco feat. Matthew Santos, Low-Flo Rida feat. T-Pain, & Gimme More-Britney Spears.

19. Song you like from an artist that you otherwise don't like:
Birthday Sex-Brooke Hogan feat. Fabolous & Jeremih
Hahaha, I'm so embarrassed. This is Brooke Hogan's take on Jeremih's song Birthday Sex. It's pretty much the epitome of guilty pleasure. I cannot think of any redeeming quality except that I love it for some inexplicable reason. It is definitely shit music, though.

20. Wildcard:
I'm Not The Girl-LMNTL & Angela McCluskey
This is the song from that amusing Schick Quattro For Women Trim Style commercial. I love it, haha.

Loco enough to choke you to death with a Charleston Chew.

Sat, 06 Jun 2009 09:56:08 GMT

My plan for today?

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

It's a sad day when waking up at 9am is sleeping in.

Fri, 01 May 2009 06:52:43 GMT

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?

Pass the Courvoisier.

Sat, 18 Apr 2009 05:47:46 GMT

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.

All the good times suffer.

Thu, 16 Apr 2009 05:07:59 GMT

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.

The locker slams on the plans you had tonight.

Fri, 27 Mar 2009 05:56:18 GMT

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!

Sure you talk the talk when you need to.

Mon, 16 Mar 2009 01:38:19 GMT

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.

Not with Jane Fucking Fonda Jr. as my date.

Sun, 22 Feb 2009 04:07:46 GMT

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.

Like chewing on pearls.

Thu, 18 Dec 2008 09:43:06 GMT

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

She composition, she statistical fact.

Fri, 12 Dec 2008 21:18:28 GMT

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

Well that is that & this is this. You tell me what you want & I'll tell you what you get.

Wed, 19 Nov 2008 04:04:34 GMT

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 got the block on lock, the trunk stay locked, the glock on cock, the block stay hot.

Wed, 15 Oct 2008 02:56:35 GMT

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.

All I ever wanted, all I ever needed.

Fri, 26 Sep 2008 03:26:12 GMT

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

I go downtown...somebody keep telling me don't hang around.

Tue, 16 Sep 2008 00:48:21 GMT

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.

I need a conversation.

Wed, 27 Aug 2008 05:14:36 GMT

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: When I was in middle school like 9 years ago or something crazy, I saw the video for his single, My Name Is, on tv. That started an almost 4 year hardcore obsession that is more than a little embarrassing in hindsight when I think of its intensity, haha. His music was excessively outlandish, violent, vulgar, and opinionated and that's intriguing to any 10 year old, right? I didn't always agree with his viewpoints but I couldn't help but respect the way he expressed himself. It was so..poetic? I know, I know, it might sound ridiculous but that's what I thought! As one fan put it, "He's skilled in theatrics and at times creates what can only be described as audio-horror." I mean, his music makes you wonder. It's entertaining and witty. It's intelligent if you actually take the time to listen to the words. True, at times it can be completely hit or miss, but it is a whole experience and you know I am all about that, haha.
While the ridiculous obsession is long gone, the admiration & appreciation for his music is still very much there.

India: Well, I'm Indian. My parents are the first generation in my family to have immigrated to the US. I've lived in the US all my life, so obviously I self-identify as American. I've grown up visiting India during the summer, though, so I still feel a strong connection to the place. When I was really young it was almost a yearly event, then later it became every few years until last summer when I visited India for the first time in 6 years. I have family all over India (my father is from the North and my mom is from the South). During this past visit, I did notice that my experience was different. I think that..since this was the first time that I was going back since I was a kid, I felt that the differences between India and the US were a lot more visible to me than they had been in the past. I think it's easier to assimilate into a different culture when you're a kid, I mean, you don't really think about it. Whereas, now that I am much older and obviously Americanized, being in India made me realize just how out of place I felt. It made me realize how unique my situation was. It was much like my experience in Singapore the summer of 2007. The feeling of...not belonging, in a sense?
I did have some interesting experiences on my last trip, haha. Ones that I simply couldn't have had when I was younger. For example, working in an office in India was starkly different from the office environment in the US. Things were much more..slow-moving. I mean, don't get me wrong, everyone was very work-oriented and hard working (we're Indian, how can we not be? haha) but it was just more relaxed, I guess. Maybe that is just the case in Chennai? I wouldn't know. I also (weirdly) got hit on a hell of a lot more. (I recounted a couple instances here and here.)
Also, going to the ISKCON temple in Vrindavan for the first time was great, too. I felt some kind of satisfaction out of going there. Nothing spiritual or religious, mind you, but rather simply because of my name, hahaha.

Physics: In undergrad I actually started out as a Physics major and then changed it to Accounting on a whim. A friend of mine once wryly commented that all my major life decisions have been made on a whim. She was joking, of course, but I've come to the realization that it's seriously true. I don't know if that bothers me or not...or if it should even bother me at all. I do worry about it sometimes...
Anyway, physics is listed as an interest of mine because I still have a leftover casual interest in it.

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

Everything I am has been neatly contained into the contents of a Samsonite bag.

Wed, 30 Jul 2008 17:17:04 GMT

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.

Sometimes I think what I need is a you intervention. Yeah.

Mon, 21 Jul 2008 15:31:20 GMT

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. Noticing that I was just standing there, he pop-locked the entire way back to me...then continued right past me to the lobby of the bar. I was a little taken aback, haha. He wasn't even trying to head for the dancefloor..just crazy pop-locking in front of the bar like there was no tomorrow. I didn't know whether to hate or congratulate. Here's the thing with pop-locking: Unless you're on some Michael Jackson shit, I'll probably think you look ridiculous & lame. I don't pop-lock at all myself, and rightfully so. I would probably suck at it and I would look like a fool.
Parthiv walked up to me, normally, thankfully, haha, and asked me if I wanted to get a drink. I knew I already needed one after the pop-lock incident and got a very large, very good vodka cran. Everyone had headed upstairs at that point, so I joined them and watched people dancing on the floor below. OMG, the people dancing. I don't think anything I can say can accurately capture the hilarity I witnessed.
Unfortunately, I can't say that I didn't commit any hilarity myself.
Throughout the night, my usually staunch "I don't dance." became "I don't dance...unless I'm tipsy and there are a lot of other people dancing who can camouflage me, hai girl, HAIIII."
Parthiv and a few other guys (including the guy I had been paired with) led me & the other girls out to the dancefloor. All the girls were instructed (with rather joyous abandon) by the guys to "shake your booty!" in heavy South Indian accents and after 3 large vodka crans in a period of under one and a half hours, what do you think I did?
What ensued, my friends...can only be described as being in a similar vein as my scrawny-little-Indian-pre-teen-girl-booty-dancing-incident at the 7th grade Valentine's dance.
Okay, okay, it really wasn't that bad, actually. In fact, I was told I had "unbelievably crazy energy," "looked like I was having fun," and that I had...wait for it..."style." Take those words and imagine what you will, because that's all the description you'll get out of me, hahaha. I will, however, generously provide a soundtrack from the dancing to aid your imagination:
Naughty Girl-Beyonce,
4 Minutes-Madonna feat. Justin Timberlake & Timbaland,
Superstar-Jamelia,
Let's Get Retarded-The Black Eyed Peas,
Gasolina-Daddy Yankee,
Smack That-Akon feat. Eminem,
Don't Stop the Music-Rihanna,
The Way I Are-Timbaland feat. Keri Hilson & D.O.E.,
Temperature-Sean Paul,
Still D.R.E.-Dr. Dre & Snoop Dogg (OMG. WHAT. Still D.R.E. is my middle school jam to the maximum. It almost blew my mind when it played.),
LoveStoned-Justin Timberlake,
I Wanna Love You-Akon feat. Snoop Dogg,
Hollaback Girl-Gwen Stefani,
(and everyone's favorite, which I was smart enough not to dance to..I mean, even I know my limits):
Low-Flo Rida feat. T-Pain
What makes it embarrassing is the fact that I'm a lucid drunk. I was well aware of what I was doing, but I did it regardless. I guess it was easy to do since I was surrounded by strangers. Anyway, it was a really early night (I was only out from 8:00pm to 1:15am) since I had to meet with a partner from the firm in Delhi the next morning & Parthiv was going to be coming over later in the day to visit my grandparents and whatnot.
On our way out I saw one of my former co-workers. He didn't see me so I thought it better not to talk to him. I got home and woke up at 6 am the next day, or I guess technically the same day. I find that I oddly always wake up early on mornings after. I did get in some good conversation with Parthiv in between all the bouts of dancing though, so that was good.

Now for some kind of gross TMI stuff...don't say I didn't warn you.

So, I'm leaving for Kerala tomorrow (and subsequently will be without Internet access! D: ) for about a week. I'm going by train. I'm on my period. Indian train bathrooms are pretty much just a compartment with a hole in the floor of the train with little traction available. Keeping one's balance is difficult as it is. Throw being on your period in the mix and it's ridic. I've never had to do it on my period before and therefore have no gameplan, so that will be a total bitch. :(

Losing my wisdom?

Wed, 16 Jul 2008 15:40:15 GMT

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 be weak.

Tue, 08 Jul 2008 17:55:10 GMT

Let me sleep, and dream of George Jackson.

You'd almost think you were safe.

Thu, 03 Jul 2008 14:03:40 GMT

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.