getting along just fine.

yea no exciting news from my end. i just work---sleep----work and I can't comment on the weekends because 2 of them have been spent house hunting and getting tipsy and one was in bangalore with a sore throat. Hyderabad is such a quiet place and when i get back from work, and i've morphed into the person who doesn't want to get back from work and feels good about it, i just read to fall asleep. I really hope theres a *Bomb* ineffable plan for us pathetic people.

well, to spice things up, i mooted an idea to throw a house warming party. My building needs it. all techies doing their mundane techie things, i swear they need to hear loud garrish Hip hop music to wake them up from their stupors. My hommies in my office agree. CD my buddy vehemently agrees that soporific people have no right to exist and vows to throw a party even if i don't consent to it, but i do. but my roomates arn't too enthusiastic about it, because their boss lives on the 2nd floor and their thinking about their techie career path, what if their techie boss gets pissed off?

why can't people show their boss their Hip hop moves i say?. oh speaking of roomies, one of them read a book of mine, the kiterunner, when i was out for the weekend. I'm glad she did, because now we can talk about books, but she read it even before i did, and thats kinda sad, because well when i give my book to somebody, i know the plot, i know what pages they're gonna love, what pages they're gonna blanch, but she knows that now, and claims its absolutely wonderrful.
sigh.
why can't i get my way??

My baby's got ooooooooooooh angel eyes

what do you get when you combine a rather unsocial city and a free gym membership?. well, you get the resurgence of the gym maniac. yes i'm back to my freaky exercise ways even though this gym has distastefully loud pop music. My prevoius gym had world space membership and since I'm the queen of gyms, (i'm the queen everywhere baby), i always manipulated the music to the Mike kauffman show, i miss that soo much, does it still come on?. gyms are verry interesting places. you get all types and by that i'm referring to the male species only, my eyes don't wander around to the women, but yes occassionally when another woman has a bitch figure and then I monitor her exercise routine and obsessively wonder about what i ought to incorporate into my exercise routine ,yadada, but men, aahh them i survey freely, and ofcourse they know you're watching and then they lift those weights or pedal that cycle with extra oomph. In my previous gym, this guy came upto me showing off his iPod. ofcourse i didn't know then what an iPod was, i just saw his playlist and blanched, backstreet boys, codered, blue etc, eeks why can't a guy hit on me with say coldplay on his playlist? but my present gym is pretty cool, largely filled with techie guys and interestingly they even gym like techie guys. techie guys do all things like techie guys, they even eat pizzas like techie guys, lemme know if it isn't true. lotsa interesting things happen at gyms, and this is my favourite gym tale. in my previous gym, i was listening to radiocity while on the tread mill.

RJ : we have a caller who wants to make an announcement to the whole of bangalore city.

caller : yea i do

RJ : go on, what do you want bangalore city to know?

caller: Bangalore! I'm in love with my cousin sister.

RJ: *silence*

caller: *silence*

me: *fallen off from the treadmill*

lol, anyhow back in bangalore for the long weekend but stuck with a sore throat, and no, it was to get 2 weeks of laundry done and not because i miss this city terribly, because i kinda don't, its easily the greatest city around, but somehow its fun living in an alien city, where you need a map to navigate through, where you don't understand the language, where the transportation is totally effed up, where there are umpteen continental food massacres. yea, inshallah its been fun.

Independant Woman update.

the weekend was a glorious sleep deprived one. i think i've slept for about 6 hours the entire weekend, which obviously means i'm getting along fine socially for the moment and i have enough ghost stories and faux pas tales to last me a life time. also did a lil bit of sight seeing. i saw the charminar, and by the looks of it, they ought to maintain it a lil better. hullo?? it has domes on it, one ought not to maintain it like a paan shop. then we proceeded to the salar jung museum, which obiviously was a museum on the life of salar jung, who i gathered was a nawab of this place, but gosh they all but displayed his diapers there. oh i moved to my new apartment this weekend. also fought with the guys who transported the wrong mattress to my place. jallu was there to be the "man on the scene", he also took pics of my place, from his snazzy new phone. thanks jallu. then i dealt with uber control freak roomate's mom. i swear there should be a Nobel prize for taking shit. and today i got my checque book. yahooey, i'm working womwn, who's getting paid, and i can sign checques now, oh arrite from the 1st of next month.
ok i'm done. i'm off now.

*Selecting A Reader*

First, I would have her be beautiful,
and walking carefully up on my poetry
at the loneliest moment of an afternoon,
her hair still damp at the neck from washing it. She should be wearing
a raincoat, an old one, dirty from not having money enough for the cleaners. She will take out her glasses, and there in the bookstore,
she will thumb over my poems, then put the book back up on its shelf. She will say to herself, "For that kind of money, I can get my raincoat cleaned." And she will.
Ted Kooser

thanks to a co-worker who generously passed on this poem to me.

quasi home.

finally, after numerous betrayals, (i'm guilty of one btw, i'm sorry but theres no way i'm gonna be happy living right outside a cowshed. err looooooooong story), i finally found meself an apartment. i'm sharing it with two other girls and yayyy i'm finally gonna have roomies!!!. i always fantasized about this moment. me livin an independant life in an alien city, in an apartment with roomies...i always somehow imagined my roomies to be a hair dresser or this total bohemian DJ type chic, you know, completely different from me, well it didn't exactly turn out that way but i'm extremely satisfied with the outcome. i have me own wardrobe now and soon my own cot and my own mattress, and my own bed spreads, my own linen.....
aah yes, i'm a satisfied independant woman , scrounging but independant. yay!!!.

oooooooh very exciting news just in, managed to rope in some girls and we're gonna go out and experience some "nightlife". double yayy!!!

....take me home to the place I belong

yes folks out there who are curious as to what happened to me and even if you aren't i'll tell you anyway. i've been out house hunting. no thats HOUSE HUNTING!. lower case just doesn't convey the requisite emotions.

my house hunting sojourn began on friday evening. when a friend's friend called up to show me a house and i went forwith, with eager anticipation, romanticizing the entire hunt as a coming of age of age ritual, when the heavens burst open, it is after all, the "rainy" season and literally drowned the pretty picture. trust me on this, the landlord isn't impressed when you show up all dishevelled because of the rain. the aforementioned flat was good but the location wasn't. which is the story of all my house hunting. the flat is good but the toilets arn't, the toilets are good but the location isn't, the flat is good, the toilet is good, the location is good, but sadly the budget isn't.

if that wasn't worse i get stuck with weird people. for one, a schizophrenic fellow house hunter (SFHH) who can't decide between living with the relative and living on ones own. i swear SFHH ruined my house hunting. when SFHH turned judas, i was stuck with over critical mom of friend's friend house hunter (FFHH). over critical mom who thought i didn't know hindi and proceeded to tell FFHH that i didn't look like a "nice" girl. very sweet . thank you. then SFHH would, by now, do a predictible, volteface, and find us a apartment to inspect. infact SFHH found this great apartment on jubilee hills, a 3BHK deal, and the land lord took us in a green ford IKON to inspect the apartment with. the house was fabulous. the view, no thats VIEW was fabulouser. but sadly since another unreliable fellow house hunter (UFHH) was in chennai, we couldn't seal the deal. you the know the woman living in front of that fabulous apartment was a popular telugu actress???. i don't know her name, but imagine i could have landed a role in tollywood!!!, i could have gone to new york, london, paris, egypt for song sequence. i could have had a zillion people dancing behind me!!!.

now that i think of it the whole thing has become a bit too complicated. SFHH, myself and UFHH were a trio and we were supposed to house hunt together. but myself being very smart also secretly teamed up with FFHH, and kept a parallel stream going. but alas! smart won't get you a house. UFHH wasn't interested in the dream apartment, SFHH has decided to stay put with relative , FFHH found a house and is happy and what about me you ask?

STILL NO HOUSE. godammit!

..and so it goes.

work is cool. lots of benefits. this place is stocked with things that are totally nutritionally wrong for you.

New beginnings

my god! does work sap the creative juices or what?. i feel thoroughly disoriented, for one, there's an over whelming majority of girls in our office. imagine, my plight then, coming from 4 years of mech class. jeez its not easy. brings back haunting memories of the girls' school experience. and then hydie sucks, i'm saying this only because i got thoroughly ripped off over 4 passport photos. but i'm hoping things will change, and no cute guys!!!, darn it, i think i'll push for a transfer to the mumbai office when it comes up!

but my workplace is great, we have a uber cafeteria, and i'm waiting to sneak in there again for a second helping of lemon souffle, but they're having a meeting there. double darn it!!!. still looking for an apartment, but i'm put up in the company guest house which is a villa if you please!. i swear, i won't leave this place without a fight. lots and lots of stuff to do, before i can finally reclaim my bangalore mental equilibrium, i wonder if i'll ever get that ever again. that insouciant life where someone else paid all the bills, where your vocabulary did not include rent, immersion heater,water bill, electric bill and 3 day weekends.

i'd never thought i'd say this, but the word thats in my mind right now is "rich husband"

I'm leaving on a jet plane.

actually more like Sahara..... err bad joke. but its true! i'm leaving Bangalore to a place that has "high" and "bad" in its name and inspite of it, the only thing people have to say about it, is that the biryani there is very good. but what i ask, if you're not into biryani?. then??

so today i went shopping, and i dig most forms of shopping, books, music (very rarely these days, all hail torrents), shoes, oh my shoes is almost a fetish, and handbags, and the "unmentionables", but i abhor, shopping for jeans. yes i hate it. its an ordeal, and it morphs into a tragedy, if you can't walk properly. for the first time in my life, today was not a shopping i looked forward to by a mile.

we landed at central, and i with great trepidation made my way to the jeans section. oh right, i forgot to mention why i loathe jeans shopping. ever seen a typical south indian woman? that nice child bearing hips? now see the world is an unforgiving place, we (south indian women(SIW)) my dear folks, are the perfect child rearing machines, ample bosoms, wide hips, slender waists, you get the picture, its like the creator of the universe put in a favour to us SIW to propagate the species and can you say "boo!" to the creator of the universe, can you say, no i'd rather not, can i have normal kate moss type hips please? ofcourse not, and how does the world repay us? by giving us horrendously ill fitting jeans. 28-30-32-34... bitches this isn't an even progression, its waist sizes for heaven's sakes!!. ever hear of midsizes?

well anyway, i'd rant if i hadn't found perfectly fitting jeans on my 14th attempt. yes i did!!! and i heard bells ringing, and the hills came alive and the lark tripped on the brook, the works.

my beloved SIW, its called lycra, embrace it.

* folks out there, i'm moving to a new city for the first time ever, so any tips/advice on moving, finding apartment, things to take etc will be most welcome.thanks.

Scaramouche,scaramouche will you do the fandango?

Thunderbolt and lightning, very very frightening......

i'm sorry, i absolutely dote on the bohemian rhapsody, its one of my favourite songs to lip-synch. and i lurrve to lip-synch. i can't sing, no siree. simply can't, but hell i can lip-synch! and i look so cool, if i do say so myself. i realised i can't sing when my mom used to record our (bro & mine) recitations of nursery rhymes and play it out to visitors who came home. that was a maternal subliminal hint i caught on to rather early. but i wanted to sing like a popstar, i wanted to look cool and my world to look like an amy grant video, (hopeless, i know!!) so it wasn't long before i substituted the remote for a microphone and started lip-synching. a compromise i'm very happy with. with time, the remote gave way to the hair brush, this happened when i got my very own tape player in my very own room. too cool. sooo much room for antics. and this week there has been a progression in my lip-synching career. i've got a new microphone substitute. My tripod walking stick!!!

well, admiteddly, i wasn't very thrilled when the doc prescribed a tripod walking stick (knee surgery remember?) for me, like hullo i'm 21!!!, but the depression soon gave away to thrilling optimism, when i discovered its hidden raison d'etre. it looks exactly like a microphone stand. the handle looks like a microphone, and its long and slender and stable, dude!! now i can rock lip-synch!!!. i can do, what eddie vedder and axel rose do to their mics. i can twirl it around and totally put up a convincing rock act. and if i only had a high stool, i'm sure i can even do a unplugged version of "the man who sold the world".

yeah i'm thrilled, but mark, i'm very aware that i'm pretending to be a rockstar, unlike these guys. shame on you INXS for desecrating michael's memory.

Edit : humongous hugs to vaish for this.