Confession

there is a guy who takes the same train as i do. he has a body to die for. both men and women can die for this body. for different reasons of course... So well, with his perfect lil tight, round touche, he stands in front of me. and as much as i admire this legendary butt, it was a wee bit, very wee bit- must clarify, on my way. let me give u the latitudes. well, i am sitting on the platform. and he is standing. so pictographically, his ass is literally in my face. not that i mind. but others do, because others need to find space to stand in this very crowded platform. now for me to get up, there is a very high probability that while i (regretfully) try to stand up and make room for others, sacrificing this rather spectacular sight, some part of my head... can...ahem... accidently... touch his artistic butt in my motion up. very unintentionally. (if intentionally, i have something else in mind).so anyway, when trying to contemplate what i should do, to avoid all kinds of potential embaressments, a woman cries out really loud "HEY!!" (she later turns out to be a friend). so at her startling little screach, the guy turns around... ahem.. and at that very second, my friend, in the hope to tap my head, manages to push it instead, and so... now o well.. (lemme just get it over with) my face bounces off his balls!

Conversation Overheard. (not too precisely tho)

Guy A: my mom has a gun, my grandmother has a gun. my grandfather left me SEVEN guns!

Guy B: Seven Guns? what for? A new business idea or something?

Guy A: (laughs). Naah. I guess guns are cheaper presents. Everybody has a gun in Texas.

Guy B: So like on your birthday your grandfather wishes you at gunpoint! That just explains so much about you!
Well... have you used any?

Guy A: that's the funny part actually. i don't even know how to use a gun. I mean I haven't tried. I figured you know if I... you know start shooting and stuff then I might just do it at random. so it's good not to know how to use a gun. It's not like its very hard or anything.

Guy B: O my God! Are you serious? You have SEVEN guns and you can't use any! What do you do with them man! Rent them or something?

Guy A: (laughs) Naah... It's just...

Guy B: O yes! How can you rent them! If you ask them for the rent, BOOM your head blows off!

Guy A: (laughs) But you know it's cool to hang around with a gun in your pocket. Not in Texas though, over there even a nanny carries a gun! But here in New York you know. People start to respect you and stuff.

Guy B: So what's your pick up line? "Hi! I am Josh. Nice to meet you. I have a gun. Seven guns actually. Can I buy you a drink?"

Cockroach crisis

bird watching, dog walking, baby sitting but why no cockroach watching, eh? you know it can be just as engaging as the rest. try it. for example me, i was watching this tiny cockroach, well not so tiny- say, adolescent cockroach- delicately crawl on the edge between the floor and the bathtub. the poor thing sat nibbling presumably another poorer thing. then i intervene its little feast. i run my index finger one feet above the roach, creating a majestic little scary shadow for it, which is following its tiny little foot steps. it was fun, watching such a puny little insect distressed by a giant little me. i am a sadist. also, as u can very well infer, have no life! anyway, so i wave my index finger above it, following horizontally, wherever it moves. the roach is sensing an imminent death knell. hopefully. so after wiggly-waggly-woo, it stops moving. stoned. now i am confused. i could not have killed it from a feet high. and i possess no laser powers. what happened? but the roach sits so still, silently. i mean still. just still. it cant shout. can it? well whatever. but here it is. unmoving. did i give it a heart attack? then i wasn't sure if they have a heart. so now i bring my finger a few inches nearer to the roach. and then i distinctly see the bastard quiver. i am very angry now. it wanted to fool me! how dare it! i am angry. should i kill it, or should i just follow along the lines of non violence? i was so close to a real "to be or not to be" dilemma. here's my Claudius cockroach... but I hear the roach scream "run, run, run while she plays Hamletta! yo Dirty Mary, when u shoot u shoot...don't talk!"

ambitious marriage

not that i hate married life. i have a lot of respect towards all the married people in the world. its just that i dont have any respect for myself as a married woman, because most often i am convinced that i am doing it all wrong, and not following the "rule book" at all. you see, all my life i have been a non-conformist. not really because i wanted to. it didn't help. my *** hated me for that, later my *** hated me too... and by the time i left India, practically everyone joined the club. so i left the country. because it was getting stale, soiled, and i was losing my mind. which is not always the best "things" to lose. a purse is a safer choice instead. so one fine day, i decided out of the blue that i wud go to USA. and i convinced dad to buy me a ticket. ** hated me her all-time-high during that period. so i figured, it has started to pay off already. so i landed in USA. and then i find myself engaged in the first 4 months of my stay, because let me be honest, i was bored that summer. and needed an interesting turn of events to cheer me up. naturally now, it dawns upon me that it was all a curse of my experimental days, frankly put-- my foolish foolish days, when i couldn't be any more stupider and unwise and unthoughtful. i am pretty sure i have used up the entire quota of my foolishness allowed in this life. so beware of me from now on. i am gonna be smart as hell for the rest of my life!
post marriage, ever so often i am jolted with an avalanche of 'marital responsibilities' which like a loud gong, explodes my ears and head in a bizarre cacophony. it feels like Jim Carry in "Bruce Almighty" when he wakes up at the sound of million voices in his head, the whole bunch of whining humanity, asking for favors out of God. well, mine is not nearly as dramatic as that, but you see my point. or so i hope.

why does people, and by people i mean some very particular individuals i know, keep saying that if you are very ambitious you shouldn't have married. yes i shouldn't have married. but that could be a separate, independent thought by itself. becoz of how inanely inept i am for all the "marriage-life-rules" and some family politics and politricks u shud be aware of to steer clear of family gossip. but why is "ambition" such a doting enemy of marriage, i dont get it. they make it sound like anybody who is ambitious and successful, were all smart enough to not marry. aye aye... its a vicious circle. its not like the legitimate, "u are bad in math, so you should stay away from science". instead they make it sound like, if u are bad in math, you should stay away from all technology. so go fetch water from the well to take a bath. no using the shower. and using a computer is out of the question! if u need to know anything, just keep your eyes and ears open for aural history to pass on u. thats how our ancestors became learned men.
but here i am, expecting to see my so-called "ambitions" getting realized, along with making my marriage a success. u see, i am ambitious about my marriage as well. i tell ya again, its a vicious circle.
anyway, had i just lived with Raja, and none of our families hovered around us, and it was a perfect world, things would have been so much easier. and i cud be a hippie like i was. every now and then i miss the Golden Age. i MUST have had a life back then. or else why this nostalgia?

joker joker in the hall who is the funniest of them all

my blog is becoming like a joker's life (no not the Heath Ledger kind or any of the other batman's joker) but more like raj kapoor's "mere naam joker" concept. my readers, if there are any, by now know that the whole idea of writing this blog is to make it funny. a lot of people, like myself, lack humor in their lives. and all that my blog attempts to do is add a little smile in your life. thats all. Because sometimes, life can be very boring. no bad days to whine about. no good days to boast about. And most of the time people dont like to admit they had a good day, even if they did. They presume, others mite think u have an easy job, or easy life, or eating out of your dad's money or ex-husband's alimony. So generally, i think people feel safer to say "work sucked. such a stressful day!" etc. However, i think people truly neither have many good days nor many bad days, they just have boring days. the same day you see everyday. and my blog comes here. to make your Today, a little funny or a little aggravated like either "hehehe" or "sheesh...look how hard she's trying to be funny...". Of course it helps infinitely more, for both you and me, if its the former case than the latter.
thus, in my blog u will never find high philosophy or grave politics, and surprisingly not much of emotional rants either (though i mite have come real close to doing that in some of my posts). there is nothing serious, erudite, intellectual or even pseudo-intellectual going on in my blog. its a very simple, under-fashioned blog without ANY underlying meaning or all that jazz. just the talk of everyday says and everyday ways. with a touch of humor to it. however if u have never found anything even vaguely funny reading it, then well...i am certainly not laughing knowing that!
so thats all about my blog, hackneyed and trivial. just hoping that u will find something in there to smile or laugh about. And perhaps on a sad, lonely, cranky day once in a while, you might remember my blog in the hope of finding a moment's smile. (and NOT the "i'm smiling- in-the-inside kind". Just old fashioned heeeee :) or hahaha)
but yeah, today is one such day, when the joker needs a laugh. badly. and i'm running out of happy or funny things to say. besides i am tired of laughing at my own jokes. how pathetic is that! u know, in theaters, in the comedy plays, there are actually some people sitting among the audience, who are part of the show. u know what part they play? to watch if u are farting or not! naah. But they are there to provoke laughter. say there is such a scene which the director or the playwright is sure as hell that it is funny, but just in case his audience had had a bad day becoz per se he/she is returning from paying the alimony or meeting the mother-in-law or just paid taxes or some such contingency, and thus just not in the mood to laugh but had to come since he paid for the ticket, the director anticipating such mishaps in people's lives, implants among the audience some of his crew members, and instructs them to start a laugh in each of those "seriously" funny moments if they go unnoticed. hearing these laughters, the unhappy ones join in. the "emperor's-new-clothes" concept. ('only people who are intelligent will get the humor')
so next time, watch out for who is making you laugh. the actor on the stage, or the actor off the stage, the actor among you. But hey! join in anyway. You wouldn't want to be the only "intelligent" one finding it NOT-FUNNY;)

Our (raja-tina, raggi-abhishek) Anniversary party

no offense to anybody, but i did not enjoy my own anniversary party. the thing is, it was crowded with people i have no idea who they were. then as introduction they tell me, "haan ami tomar dada ke du bochor boyeshe dekhechilam" (yes i saw your brother when he was two), you know what that means people?-- He didn't even know that i existed all these twenty two years! so imagine when he was invited, 'sure i wud come to her anniversary! wait a minute, when was she born?' and next he sees me in my anniversary! "hello. o yes let me update you. i was born 22 yrs, 11 months and 56 seconds ago. but how thoughtful of you, you didn't miss my anniversary party."
see what i mean.
hence i was tired of making these incessant small talks with people all over the place, repeating the same boring "weather" lines or food conversations-- "ashte oshubide hoy ni toh. theek kore khachchen toh. aar kichu laagbe. bhaalo kore khaben. chele meye elo na?" ("no problem with the directions i hope. please help your selves with the food. have some more. please eat something. why didn't your children come"-- without having any clue if they at all have children, whom may be i shud meet 22 yrs after, at THEIR anniversary per se!)
then, to make it worse most of my friends couldn't make it to the party. they were either stuck with their sister's graduation party, or brother's girlfriend's paranoia, or the simple classic excuse "period cramps". however the MOST annoying part was when my family showed up 30 minutes before the place closes down. and they came, ate, and left. i mean everybody comes to parties to eat, but do you really have to make it that obvious!
the only good part was there was no after-party party. so i could crash in my bed asap.

Life

ever so often life becomes more demanding, difficult, uncompromising, and sucks like crazy! life's a bitch. see why

DANGER ZONE

the other night was scary. i was returning from school around 12 in the night, (from SCHOOL, believe me), when I had to take a cab from Jackson Heights. the train got delayed, and weird thingies happened in between, result of which landed me in Jackson Heights instead of Woodside. anyway, this Pakistani cabbie, he looked middle-aged, but apparently the story goes (which he narrated) that his father is calling home to get him married. so i'm not sure about his age. but he is very big. he is the archetypal "big guy". anyway, very soon he tells me "i'll take you to clubs. u drink?" "No. i dont. I'm very religious." he- "but wine has only 10% alcohol". me-" NO. it has more than that" (oops, i'm not suppose to know that. i don't drink, remember) anyway, so he insisted i go to clubs with him, and to movies. "Well my HUSBAND wont like that." "o it doesn't matter. dont tell him. give me your number. please." "did you hear me, my HUSBAND wont like that." (usually at the mention of a Husband, guys just run for their lives. i was so sure this would work with this guy too). But he continued, "dont tell him, give me your number. look i dont have any bad intentions. this is a very lonely country, i just want a friend. i am a good man. dont tell your husband, give me your number. call me when he is not there. i am a good man" How HIGHLY unconvincing line of argument! to earn any inkling of credibility he should have at least kept the two lines of thought vastly separated from each other, "call me when husband not there" and "i am a good man". anyway, i didn't say anything outright abusive, because i was still in his hands, i mean i still needed him to do this lil bit for me-- reach me home safe, in the same physiological, psychological, and sexual condition, with which i had entered his car. if i had abused him, i was afraid he might just spare me the politeness of an invitation and might take me right then on a looooong drive with him to one of his "clubs" and had me drink "10% alcohol wine". and that i did not want. so i was in my best behavior with him. politely refusing. (this i learned from my mom, my brother, my husband... which finally came to use that night) So when i reached outside of my home, the car door knob is stuck. he isn't unlocking it. still pressing me for my phone number. (btw, he found me quite dumb when i told him my husband wont like it. he's probably thinking that 'that should be the last of your concerns right now you pussy cat'). he wont even take the fare. gave me another philosophical "there are somethings more than money" ideology. i am still trapped in his car. the door wont budge. and just to remind you, its now after midnight outside the car. (and inside the car I am mentally prepared that its Judgment Day. All my hopes of a Nobel, and Writer, and Princeton, and A's, and laser hair removal, all dreams finished in a single cab ride, becoz of a single delayed train. Life is so short.)
i will leave the rest to your imagination folks! but just to reassure, I am writing this blog sitting on my bed in my home, my HUSBAND's home. so u can take a breath of relief;)

Jackson Heights grocery shopping

we went to Jackson heights to do the groceries. its funny that we call it 'grocery', because ideally one connects grocery with a weekly, or at the most monthly tenure. we, however, make it a 3 months stipulation. hence our grocery shopping is like an event. By the end of our shopping, our cart is a spectacle. people, glancing at our trolley might wonder if we are feeding an army, or perhaps making food drops at Iraq or something. sure... why not! imagine all the people "sharing" life in food!
Reminded me the last time I went there, with R. she was shopping for a party. After everything was done and paid for, a Punjabi man offered to help us fetch a cab home. we are here. cab is looooong way there. and Punjabi man, with our trolley, changing kinetic motion to commotion, runs away from us to run into the cab. we ran behind him with arms stretched out like High-Hitler waving to 'wait for us', when meantime a Q37 angry bus nearly ran as down. while we unloaded every item from the cart to the car deck, half paranxious (paranoid+anxious), trying to hurry up and slowing down at the same time by the Punjabi man's overpowering nudge, i heard miscellaneous swear words from the miscellaneous drivers, esp from the bus driver, we held up in a bottle neck. our cabbie was in perfect denial of the situation. he pretended he didn't hear any of the swear words pouring down on us like cats and dogs. hence we kept up with our part of the denial too. we had to. what kinda client-lawyer relationship will we have otherwise!? thus, cabbie couldn't care less. we couldn't care less. and yet everyone of us tried to get the hell out of there as fast as possible! and at the end of all this shameful shameless 'denials', i saw a perfectly plump tomato plopped down from one of our bags and hurriedly scurried across the road and made way into a giant manhole.

HOTDOGs and Movie

the new movie on harold and kumar, is grossly funny. and by grossly, i mean gross. even as i laughed, some part of me went ewewewewewewew...like a broken record trying to make a point! of course, there isn't such a thing as "perfect" humor! tht'll be very...unfunny? but if its humor for the sake of humor (i.e not ironical "smiles"), just hearty laughs-- then i would at least strive to make it funny, in a NON-afterthought kinda way. i wouldn't want my audience to go "EW" after a laugh or even before a laugh. tht'll be too confusing. are you laughing at it? laughing with it? or laughing it off?
if u follow the trend, it'll go something like this: "hahaEWhahaEWhahaew"...and soon separated by its sound-effects "huh... hmm... haow?"... See what i'm saying?! the entire purpose of comedy is lost, if u end up questioning it.

we usually get hot dogs or u know something to munch in the hall to keep ourselves entertained, in case the movie sucks. so we wait in line for eternity, watching these 3 DUMB blonde girls(thankgod i cleared THAT up), making a life-or-death choice between popcorn, pretzels or nachos. goodness! and the Asian guy attending their order, is indulging their dumbness! even without being blonde! at least blondes have a license to be dumb. this guy was Asian. u are suppose to be smart dude! what are u doing screwing up our legacy? this ain't rocket science. this ain't even computer science! just selling popcorns. unscientifically. cuhmon! be a man! be an Asian man! :)

so we got hot dogs from another counter.

dedication: to my great SINGING CHEF

she is sometimes rude, crude, bit-of-moods, wooed... and now wed. and i love her. not all times. but many times. i love nothing all of the time. it would be a boring habit. and i dont trust boring habits. "habit" is the official word for one of your disgusting/meaningless practices. and it takes a long, boring time to grow habits. perhaps when waiting in a waiting-room. or in a dentist's clinic, waiting to be drilled upclose and personal! right inside your mouth. (talk about no privacy!) and the thought of it, made you bite your nails, or dig your nose, or fart, or chew your thumb...! and this took an OFFICIAL turn, the day you launched it as "habit".
hence, i don't love her by habit. but love her nevertheless.
i'm immensely in awe with her big mouth, big heart, big brain, and BIG culinary skills! yesterday night, exemplified all her biggies. we talked for a long time, like Jane and Elizabeth. [ok you can be Elizabeth. but i'll give you a tough fight;)] And when she is nice to u, & u better be on her good books, she talks to you so soothingly, with her words tripping so gently upon you, she'd make u feel like a small child (or pampered brat! with all the food n goodies). but her maturity is like a NYC skyscraper. and she'd inspire you towards becoming THAT.

thus, by the end of this big and small fluctuations of your sense-n-sensibility against hers, you'd wonder if u just got outta bungie jumping or sky-riding

this post is to let her know, it was nice talking to you yesterday. and i'd remember those words for a long time. (perhaps even make it a HABIT, who knows!)


HABIT
A BIT remains.
BIT remains.
IT remains.

marilyn monroe

u know one of those romantic movie scenes which doesn't seem credible-- guy, tall and "well-built", which actually means FAT-- when about to propose to his lover, pulls out his ring from his finger, and slips it into the girl's finger. and amazingly, the ring fits her finger perfectly! what fat fingers you got girl!? and btw, she doesn't even mind this cheap bastard! sharing a ring? thats just disgusting

i refer to a scene from the movie "Blonde", the life of Merilyn Monroe. did u know that apart from being a sex symbol, a movie star, a beauty icon, a tramp, girl-who-didn't-wear-underwear, and what not!... she was also a woman, just a woman. miserable and hurt. very very hurt infact. talk about a turn of events, eh? i swear, had i drank a lot of water today-- i would surely have wobbled like a broken washing machine.
the movie made me so sad. even more sad, because everything that i heard as rumor about her, was actually true, and in spite of it all-- she was so beautifully, painfully lonely, like a painting hung in a museum wall.
u know, there is a reason why sad people are sad, and happy people are happy, and detached people are detached, and angry people are angry, and impotent people are impotent (i don't know why i added the last one, thought it fits).
we are kinda like the struggling artists. making art out of life. fine-art or modern-art. if your life turns out to be the fine-art kind-- u are a lucky man, good to go! but if your life becomes a modern-art-- u are one of those "nobody understands me" types. perhaps the only connoisseur of that kinda painting, will be your mother. and these kinda paintings usually end up hanging on her refrigerator door. she's the only one proud of you.

that line which people love using, "i'm just being myself" is such a load of crap! because if one-fine-day u truly ARE at your best dumb self, and try out 'just being myself', you will end up being-- selfish, fickle, unreasonable, fat, lazy, moody, or unshaved! may be even all at the same time. and you wont mind any of it at all! and very much at peace. if only the rest of the world could disappear!

so go get yourself unhairy for godsake! there are miles to go before... ...the hair stops growing!

Glascock 85th Poetry Competition

heyyyyyyyy

i was very sad for some hours-- precisely twenty-four hours!
in the Glasscock 85th Poetry Competition in Mount Holyoke College, where apparently Sylvia Plath, Shelly, William Carles Williams, Steve Eddison-- and a horde of other famous poets have read during the last 85 years and won, and where I read too! (yeei) but didn't win (waaa) was a peculiar experience.
I was the last poet to perform, and after my performance was over-- people rushed to tell me "u must win! u r definitely winning, u were outstanding! u were breathtaking, u were a pro, most powerful performance".yattiyattiyatta-- even 2 out of 3 judges told me "u were outstanding. an extraordinary performance"-- GUESS WHAT!! the next morning, they handed down the prize to someone else! wat the hell was tht? a practical joke? i was pissed.
on my way to the bus station from the college, the driver who gave us a ride, a white veteran--who hates baseball players making millions, whereas the American President doesn't...(i guess his point would be, even though he 's "playing" politics?)-- asked me, "how was everything?" me-" o it was good. not as much as I wished it would be though." him-" where did we fail you?" me-- "nothing in particular." him-- "aah...i see, so everything in general? hahaha?" no, you daft idiot -- everything in particular!
anyway, i was pissed. and i still am a little. and i guess i do a pretty bad job when i try to hide it. because when i consciously TRY to hide my disappointment, i end up making it more apparent. like the way i congratulated the winner, "hey! congratulations. " her-- "Thanks. but u had the best performance. u were breathtaking. i loved your reading the best". me--"thanks. but they still made you the winner" (huh! Tina control! do u understand the words coming out of your mouth!) she-- makes a confused facial expression, which probably translates as 'u bitch! did u just say what i think u said'. me-- "hehe...?!*&$...umm...hehe" i even suck at damage control. so i just shuffled away somehow, after having made myself and the girl end up in quintessential awkwardness! almost like getting caught with your pants down.
okbye. let me go sulk a lil more

Anna's birthday party

i had feared Anna's birthday party might turn out to be a blood bath, or at least a historic event of some significance, because UNLIKE hindi movies where A loves B, B loves C, C loves D, in our party there were invitees among whom A hates B, B hates C, C hates D and so forth. But because of God's divine interference;) ...correction, Divine Intervention (lemme be politically correct) that everybody went home in one piece, and hopefully with full pot bellies (we are a fat family. and our friends are fat too. and we move in groups. fat groups.)

M and i sneaked a lil girl talk. and since i am the untimely married one, and she's the timely unmarried one-- she had a breeze of 'how-is-after-marriage' questions. i filled her with meticulous details without sounding disgusting. i'm not sure if M ACTUALLY wanted to know, or if she was just being polite like most other people, who asks the harmless question, "how is married life", without expecting u to be honest. u do know they really don't care about YOUR married life. their own married life is messed up enough to think about! so all that they expect you to say is a short "good" or "ok". and leave. they dont actually expect you to say something like "sucks". partly becoz nobody is so outright, and also becoz if u say "sucks" then they HAVE to ask you again another unnecessarily polite question, "why so". now imagine someone sits to elaborate on that, something like "u know, we have a horrid sex life, becoz my partner sleeps on me during sex, and he stinks of beer and cigarette, and he beats me up, and to tell u the truth i have a crush on my father in law, and i feel like stabbing my mother in law, and i get this urge sometimes to spit on the food i serve, and and and". ahem. imagine the pros and cons of this astonishingly honest answer to a married-life-question, if such were to be true.
anyway, M and i being friends , i very happily narrated to her my married life with certain obvious dramatizations to make it look funny-- like it were some bedtime story. but after a point it seemed, she might in fact go off to sleep if i wouldn't stop. so i did. and then she started off with her bedtime stories... and so the chain continued.

o something hilarious. Anna's friends and their parents were playing 'RockBand'. and the parents were on the instruments. the 6 year old Anna's friend was on the mike. and these were the lyrics she had to sing, and incidentally she sings REALLY loud! -- "i'm getting mine. u r gonna get some tonight...." and THAT my friends, is the pinnacle of being a rockstar!

downfall in elevator

end of day, after Shakespeare class, i was in the elevator, when i overhear this AWEsome conversation: girl A reads girl B a sms, which girl A's ex-bf has written her, "i'm sorry A, but i had to dump you. she was far better looking with an awesome body. u dont even come close. i know i'm an asshole to do this, but in life u will come across many such assholes like me. so let this be a lessen for u." WHOA! unbelievable? believe it. frankly, i didnt know how to control my LOL! as sorry as the situation was for the girl, but look at her ex! watta guy! i mean, how smart is he? he dumps this girl (fyi she is pretty pretty! i dont know watta dumbass the guy is) on the sms. and next wat does he say "i am an asshole". pointblank. u cant say much anymore, can u? he says it for u. poor thing, girl A cant even complain or vent to her friends, "can u believe wat an asshole he was!" because he already SAID it dammit. it wont be original now.
so basically, her last shred of dignity-- swearing at him wholeheartedly before she storms out of his life-- is gone. why? becoz her ex took care of tht too! so now if she yells at him "you asshole". imagine his reply. "i told you so". no, no no, one cant let tht happen.
so this is wat girl A tells girl B after she has read the sms to her, "i knew it." huh? wht? tht he was an asshole? heck man, even i knew THAT! and girl B replies, "really he said tht?" naaah, she's lying. tht was just a practical joke.
duh?

but hey be honest, dont u wanna get one chance in your life to say those words exactly to ur ex or whoever? i mean i would love to say that to someone. just for once. "hey m sorry i dumped you. wat can u do, m an asshole!" ha ha ha.

this was to be posted last nite. but it slept on me

came home from school. really looking forward to a good dinner. o wait. who am i kidding! I forget I am no more in the days of 'whats for dinner!?'. now i am usually at the other end of that phrase. derrrrrn! how life changes. to think once dinner used to be Great Expectations, and now its great expected. *sigh* .
so where are we going? Micky D's Chucky Cheese KFC's:-)... and KFC it was

I made the 6:49 train today. which is both good and bad. the good thing being, i don't have to wait for the next exiled train, which comes after another two hours. the bad thing being the 6:49 train is officially the slowest train in this side of the world. hypothetical tourists, please take note of that. so by the time I finally reach Woodside, I don't know who to kill to vent my frustration. but somebody must die.
J was with me on the train. showed me her wedding pictures. they looked so happy and gay! (finally I could use this word in its original meaning). the whole time, there was this red face baboon sitting next to us, who kept watch over us. like why? checking to see if we cheat on our husbands or something
anyway, mean time let me go tend to my only husband. honey i'm home

for dada

some people just laugh. you don't even have to do much or say much to make them laugh. dada is one such. and i just latch on to his obsessive-laughing-disorder to find myself a funny girl. how reassuring. like take for example today. we chatted online. apparently both of us find ourselves wonderfully available to the rest of the world-- AT work. thts WHEN, and NOT where, we do all our socializing. i havent figured out if we are actually friendly ppl. when in a crisis, that is when all others have disappeared, and its only between me and the other-side-of-me left, thats when i try to think of current-affairs to talk about. believe you me (btw, what exactly does this phrase mean?) i know nothing about the world except in a general sort of way. its like one of those companies, say Microsoft, you know Bill Gates runs it, like the million other companies he does (he does rite?), but you dont know much about those others. so coming back to my social skills. i think i suck. but what is worse, sometimes i am masterly deceptive and give people the wrong impression. like i had fun talking or something. like that ever-so-polite way of leaving: "hey nice talking to you". cuhmon now, u know better
but coming bak to dada, it is rather nice talking to him. refreshing. we mostly talk about girls in his life. precisely, girls NOT in his life. that can just start about from anywhere, eh? Angelina Jolie or one of those hot women i just dont get it? but more realistically, girls who perch on his cushy pedestal for awhile and all of a sudden flock away with the rest. like its twilight zone or something, and time to return to their nest with someone else. he's perpetually stuck in the other-man crisis. but this other-man is more of a "u r like a brother to me". seriously girls, do u wana "thank" him or not? what kinda dumbass compliment is that? *sigh* wat can i say dada, girls just dont know what to do with the shoulder, AFTER they have warmly watered it. please girls, u need to 'dig' and 'nurture' it too. dont just cry and blow your nose upon it, and leave like some bed-wetter! seriously.
he called up ma yesterday. thats like the Iraq war ended, finally. and ma is ahead of all of us. she wants him to marry. but she forgets, where's the raw material? so she had this girl, her student, with the same initials NG, email me and add ME on Orkut. (why me?) and apparently she looks a fairer version of dada's ex. ok ma. grow up. do u really think thats the best idea? its like one of those movies where the drunk hero has sex with a woman he mistakes as his wife, under the blurring effects of alcohol. i dont know what ma's thinking. but it just feels wrong. i mean seriously, wht wud his friends tell him--you married a look alike of your ex? thats like marrying your ex, isn't it?
anyway.
my life. for one, today there was orange water in the bathroom. thot of calling the plumbers. refrained. the last time i had them over, it was like a reunion between them. 4 of them together in the bathroom, at the same time. yeah, i know! but perhaps not. but nevertheless, i was pretty pissed off that day. i had offered them cookies. good ones. and they refused. huh? that happens? apparently it does. and so i completely lost all respect for them.
so there, the orange water becoming tangerine now.
i have to write a response paper. this philosophy class i take. its a fun class. u just need to be deep in thot, so deep that ideally none should bother you, rite? wrong. we have to write response papers everyday. i mean EVERYDAY? i cant understand why? i suppose it takes tens of years for the philosophers to think and then write that out. what does it say to them if we make sense out of it in a day, and even write a response! thats just depressing. for the both of us. but thats just about it. i have now exactly thirty more minutes to be philosophical and write a paper. thats how screwed up we are!