:+: A N N A J O H N ' S D I A R Y :+:

february 28th (the "get crucial"+"is that pate?" edition)

when i'm "editing" my fster profile, i always space at the "favorite movies" section.  i know i have a few, but somehow, they never bubble up to the top of my consciousness when i want them to. when my fingers are hovering above the iBook at that moment when i could give "the sound of music" company in that rectangular little section...i can't find a damned thing in my cerebral filing cabinet.

i'm watching "heathers" right now, probably for the sixth time and it's brilliant.  christian slater, what happened to you?  what happened to any of you?  the only cast member i see semi-regularly is hydra- heather number two, a.k.a. brenda walsh.  note to no one in particular: the shannon doherty looks best w/straight hair.  one of my most cherished, favooooorite things about movies from my adolescence (besides the unexplained ubiquitousness of red porsche 944s in high school parking lots) is the astonishing lack of PRODUCT PLACEMENT.  moviemakers didn't whore themselves out to coke or pepsi for name-dropping or strategic insertions of logo or item.  films from my teenaged years didn't leave you wanting a shower because you just suffered through a two-hour long commercial.  ah, what a sweet, innocent time i was incubated in...

also?  westerberg high makes me think..."paul".  so...you be me for a while, and i'll be you.  will music ever reach such great heights?  oh, 1989...what a phenomenal year to be a freshman in high school. (shhh...don't tell a soul)

so yeah...heathers?  genius.  but only if you're watching the real version with f-bombs droppin' left and right.  huh.  my hair is the same length as veronica's (winona forever) is, in this movie. okay, okay...that's the last i'll mention the perfect phillum.  i'm done.  i PROMISE. (but only b/c the credits are rolling, bitches).

february 26

saturday = errands and preparation

saturday night = i brave my first japanese dinner, ever

saturday after hours = me clutching my stomach while writhing

sunday morning = a cancelled trip to new york, thanks to food poisoning

sunday afternoon = my first solid food/my stomach ceases its violent revolt

sunday late afternoon = pass out from combo of sleepless night + post-prandial exhaustion

a rare, full-weekend free of work, totally wasted?  priceless. 

:+:

further and significant changes to the blog:

i'm sick of TypePad/Amazon creating the wrong links for me when i enter songs in my music typelist and i'm even sicker of some m.f. smartass writing in to tell me that "uh...actually, 'no. 13 baby' was on Doolittle and not Trompe Le Monde", as if i fucking wasn't aware of that already. 

february 21 (deeeluxe edition)

today was a good day.  since i almost always work sundays, i relax on a random day during the week.  right after waking up, i tested out my caramel syrup (the same gunk starbucks drizzles on frappuccinos et al) in plain old coffee (holiday blend, still) with cream (result: good).  then i randomly decided to clean the tub, probably b/c i was wired (result: sparkly). after that, i took a deep breath and gazed at the pile o' crap which was threatening to take over my wee little living room (loot for my sister's care package) and decided to pack it up, for once and all. 

i think i had procrastinated in part b/c i couldn't find the right box lying about (i always have small-medium sized boxes; that's what my toys come in) in which to fit everything well. waiting to send her stuff meant i bought her MORE stuff, some in response to her frantic requests (murruku, grandma's kaduku manga pickle/achar, which she goes through at the rate of one every three weeks), some just b/c i walked by something daily (lacoste is next to my work) which reminded me of her.  other random bits and bobs which were packed in the box a SMALL PIECE OF FURNITURE came in include:

1. extra spicy mixture from kerala (two brands, in case she hates one)
2. an ann taylor "special occasion" catalog filled with a few dresses i think will be perfect for ultra-dressy greek holy week
3. the adorable x-acto knife which retracts in to an egg-shaped, magnetic purple case (i can't live w/o mine, i figure she might feel the same vay)
4. one very pretty sterling silver toe ring with a blue topaz, since she shows off her pedicure YEAR-ROUND in that 70 degree weather
5. ...and one very special "project" i've been working on which involves something i heard she needed, with little surprises hidden in every compartment. ;)

admit your envy.  it's okay.  i'd want fatty care packages, too.  oh, wait...i already get them...from my seeester.  :)

:+:

after spending THIRTY DOLLARS to mail all that rather heavy shit to veen, i bought postcard postage, b/c someone extraordinary gave me some very unique postcards which i shyly wish to use.  then i went to staples and looked longingly at scanners.  i've needed one for a while.  there are so many things (usually stuff i see in the umpteen magazines i subscribe to monthly) i'd blog about on SM, if only i could scan them, things which helpfully aren't online.  oy. 

i've wanted to go to AC Moore for a few days, which ain't surprising b/c they bombard us with their ads via snail mail.  i've made dozens of mental notes over the past few months, things like, "buy brown ribbon to make sash for that dress" or "purchase more earring "nuts" w/discs", since they are the only earring backs i can wear without twitching, and i go through a value pack of 50 every few years.  i also wanted to "repair" my beloved jackie-esque pearl necklace, which was marred slightly when someone rifling through my bags at the airport helpfully spilled something horrid when they didn't replace the cap on something.

february 19

jo, meet no.  personally, i think "tense" was worse than "nervous" on the johari page, but masochist is entitled to their own take on adjectives.  i had known about the darker side of this exercise and thought i'd take my time asking people to fill it out, since so many had so kindly already done the "lighter" version for me...but masochist's comment inspired me to move on at an accelerated pace, since i'm a huge believer in justice and balance.  et, voila.  to diss and describe me negatively, go here.  but my inner skeptic is already wrinkling her nose, since i don't know who wants to attach their name or handle to unhappy thoughts.

:+:

going to trader joe's when slightly hungry = piss poor idea. 

purchased:  ruby port, lactaid, greek yogurt, "mingling" olives, chole, whole wheat tortila chips, fat-free spicy bean dip, whole grain mini-bagels, macintosh apples, goat cheese, a coastal cabernet and one excellent olive-studded baguette.  i had the last three for dinner, after munching on some of the mingling olives during my new fave reality show, "#1 single".  oh lord, do make me as adorable as lisa loeb when i'm 40, thanks.  also, please help her find someone who will sweat her suitably, since i'd hate it if she ended up with some douche.

:+:

my first staff meeting was held today, for what is now the semi-new job.  it's still new in that i'm not out of my probationary period yet, which means i'm not eligible for bonus (among other hot perks), but it's not-so-new in that it's been two months.  we did a "communications" exercise where we each discovered where we fit along four different styles.  i was massively amused that each was nicknamed  like so:  green tennis shoe, red sandal, brown penny loafer and black stiletto.  guess which one i was?  not chatty, sincere or organized...no, i'm the DIRECT communicatrix.  manolo nods his approval, i'm sure.

best thing about meeting?  the chocolate chocolate chip cream cheese muffins that one of our staffers baked.  hot damn is she good.  it's like having a brimful on the right coast. ;)

:+:

my mom is visiting my little sister and i'm somewhat blue, now that it's dawned on me that the last time the three of us were together, it was november of 2004, i.e. my cousin susan's wedding in nyc. we see each other as a family every other year. i see my sister once a year, if i'm lucky, my mother 2-3 times.  :(  no wonder people don't move so far from home...when your family lives in three different states, each in separate time zones, none of which are easily reached by car, logistics get hairy.  even if i were in southern california, (ptttth! perish the thought!) i'd be closer to them...sigh sigh sigh.  :(  i'll stop being melancholy soon, promise.

February 15

Random:  I’ve suddenly started doing crossword puzzles, daily.  This is anomalous for me—the last time I spent this much time agonizing over clues to that six letter space known as “5 across”, I was ignoring a professor.

I blame the cute little “Page-A-Day” desk calendar I bought, which has a different L.A. Times crossword on every day’s page.  Finishing an entire puzzle makes me want to throw down my kitty-chan pencil and scream, “suck it, BITCHES!”.  But I’m at work so I don’t.  Usually.

One unexpected fringe benefit of my lovely little desk calendar was the little code it came with, which I entered in their website.  This got me to a magical page where I got to choose from 12,000 different choices ranging from “Dogs” to “Exotic Cars” with “Vocabulary” and “Women’s Wisdom” in between…being the raging alky that I am, I chose “Fine Wines” and now I get the exact page someone else rips off their paper calendar delivered to my inbox (well, really my bloglines) daily.  I’m learning so much about Rieslings!  I prattle on about this b/c I might just have an extra code lying about…if one of you is a Page-A-Day groupie, holla.

:+:

I got off work 45 minutes early but that bonus time was somewhat pointless, b/c DC’s unfabulous congestion meant that it took almost thirty minutes just to get near the orange line.  Much gnashing of teeth occurred as I morosely asked myself for the 40,000,000th time, "Why don't I just go home if I want $2,000/mo rents and THIS much shitty traffic?"  Yes, strumpets, we're in THAT place again.

:+:

In grad school, I took fascinating classes which dissected leadership, personality, gender and self.  During the past five years since leaving GW, I haven’t done nearly as much with my degree as I’d like to, but thanks to my girl Chai, I got to reminisce a bit last night.  She directed her readers to an interesting site where we were welcome to choose half-a-dozen adjectives which describe her, so that a comparison could be made between her self-perception and reality.  It was nice to ponder what I think of my friend and as I waded through my 100+ subs on Bloglines, I saw that little Nik had done the same exercise.  I dutifully chose six adjectives for her as well before calling it a night.

If you want to do me (and really, who doesn’t ;) you may adjective me here.  Afterwards, it will let you create your own page, b/c you will obviously want to.

Wow, that was way more successful than my attempt at that last bloggy meme, the "four" thing everyone and their appliances did, which TypePad uncharacteristically ate, just as I was punctuating the last sentence.  GnashGnashGnash.

february 12

the thing about snow is, one can't wear cute shoes to work or church. (in this context, cute = dressy)

the other thing about snow is, if it's here, that means it is very cold.  this is fantastic b/c i can finally wear the most gorgeous cashmere scarf ever knit.  it's the perfect shade of lilac, the perfect length, the perfect style.  in short, one of the best gifts i've ever been given.  :) 

.

i'm still tweaking this new template; my erstwhile playlist feature is back ("my inner DJ is spinning..."), although i'm annoyed by how close each song is to the next.  scroll down, it's part of the sidebar again,  since one very special reader missed it.  :)

.

liking:  the lingering smell of BaBW white tea and ginger foaming hand soap
listening:  to cat power's latest, frank black
watching:  degrassi tng on the N
reading: DCist
eating:  vesuvio potatoes, well-done, from maggiano's take-out window
drinking:  low-fat milk :)

february 9

a few meager thoughts before i pass out:

- tonight's ER was AMAZING.

- suddenly, it is so cold...my head hurts the moment i leave a building.  ow.

- this is actually okay b/c i got a gorgeous birthday gift i can finally use.  :D

- in the heart-breaking battle between sleep and blogging, the latter triumphed tonight: there IS a 55Friday on SM, bitches!

- i'm going to be hating life in a few hours...so tired AND i have an early morning.  le sigh.

- the cinnamon dolce latte at starbucks is not unfortunate.

- GMail's chat function owns all your bases.  so. very. hot. 

- i learned a surprisingly entertaining game that involves taking turns naming famous people in rapid succession: "christy turlington" "tom brokaw" "barbara streisand" "sally struthers" 'oh, now in the opposite direction!'

um, yeah.  if that made no sense, i'm not surprised.  i'll explain it some other time when i'm conscious.  that's a sign for me to GO.

February 3

A rather hectic day off is over-- I had keys made, went to the indie pharmacy, took someone blue to lunch, went to mass at St. Matt's (No, I am NOT Catholic...I just play one on TV), did a Costco run, then went to Tarzhay, THEN had to haul everything up 17 floors.  Then I tried to organize a bit.  Sigh.  There's never enough time for everything I want to do.  Worse, when I don't have free time to stare off in to space, my creativity vanishes and I'm left unable to really write.  Hence the lack of 55s lately.  :(  New job is fun and I love making money but...I miss creating, reading, blogging.  I'm tinkering with my approach to everything and a few other variables, trying to get the elusive life balance right...so far...not so much.

I'm very drowsy but I know I have to put the following question/issue out there, b/c we're running low on time: at my FANTASTIC birthday dinner last week, there was a mini-mutiny about Feb. 11's meetup.  Pacifically, a few DC-based fotologgers wanted to know why we couldn't have our flog meet in DC vs. NYC, as had been planned.  Though very surprised, I could see their logic, since the majority of attendees are here, but two things inspired my concern:

1)  it felt a little late to change cities...
2)  that may affect who can make it.  For example, Tabitha's name was brought up as a potential NYC-attendee who may have trouble doing a DC event.

I proposed nearly equidistant Philly as a compromise, especially since two out of our three Birthday girls and our "guest of honor" are both already there, but who knows...there could be issues with that city as well.  My bottom line is this: I want to see as many of you as possible, that's my priority, not "where".  While I adore NYC and enjoy any and every excuse to get up there, I can do the other two cities, one of which I live in, the other with some extra juggling.  What say all of you?  Have the D.C. girls changed their minds?  Can Sibil, Tabitha and anyone else in New York go elsewhere?  Is Philly the right idea?  Who's in?  Who's not?  Who's going to be sorry they missed it? Comment away.  One week from now, I plan on being drunk with several of you-- let's make that lofty goal a reality. ;)

january 24

today was a random day off, so i did a glorious lot of NOTHING. 

that's right, not a damned thing which was on my to-do list was checked off. nope, nothing.  speaking of, nothing i may write could possibly equal the genius contained within the following quote:

me: AVEZ-VOUS "SEX BOMBE?" De Tom Jones?

carefully lifted (and then cradled in my palm as i gazed at it lovingly) from here.  gawd, i sweat that girl. 

january 18th

bath and body works semi-annual sale is pure evil, i tell you.  i meandered over to tyson's corner, to the deeeluxe BaBW (i.e. it carries NARS and fekkai) to buy more of those ridiculous white barn candles that smell just like yummy food, since the hazelnut coffee one sends me in to paroxysms of delight.  $5?  like you could resist that.  i was consumed with procuring the apple pie version, but i ended up getting that AND passion fruit guava AND raspberry rhubarb, which may be my new fave. 

i also hit up the bodyshop to stock up on the red lip gloss dot they are now clearancing, since it doubles as one flawless blush and if they're clearancing it 4 for $10, then it's discontinued, too bad, so sad for my ass.  of course i had to buy 3 other things to get that price, which doesn't explain how or why i

a) bought nine other things

b) sweet talked the sweetheart there in to giving them all to me for the clearance price w/an additional discount, despite my total # of items not being a friend of "four"  AND my losing my "love your body" card.  w00t me!

i am cautiously thrilled because i THINK i found what could be my "next" red lipstick.  of course it would be discontinued, but this is the story of my life. i've only been on a quest to find the perfect red for 16 years.  me and paloma picasso, it's our thing.  one day, i'll do what she did and just concoct my own. one day.  nordstom almost got some of my money since i parked next to it and had to walk past chanel and MAC and jimmy choo (oh my!) to get to the body shop et al.  sigh.  i'm proud to be an american.  'cuz at least i know i'm free.  and it's totally fine to love consumerism THIS MUCH.  go USA!

vat else...well, i apparently did jinx my trip with saji, but...i still get to go to new york, albeit via a different method and for a much different reason.  i'll train up saturday morning for the SM meetup  (i'm so excited-- these are SO FUN.  i believe maisnon met her fave movie date at the SF one ;) while someone else, ahem, almost got some) and then i'll return to DC that night, since i have work to do on sunday. 

my sister has already placed orders for what she wants from both fifth avenue and whichever store in Chinatown i can find Lotte koala cookies at :), meanwhile, i daydream of hitting up my storage space to fetch my luxe down comforter, since i'm suddenly colder at night...which seems odd to type, b/c i'm the first one to declare that it doesn't feel like a real east coast winter.  whatever.

again, i'm struck by how lucky i am that i get to go to the best city EVER whenever i feel like it, whether broke ($40 hasidic bus) or not ($$$ amtrak), as if i were merely heading to SF from mom's house.  it was back in (wow, has it been that long?) 2003, but i remember so vividly how glumly i felt at home, whenever i'd read about some amazing event in NYC, 3000 miles too far to the right.  i'd wish that i could go, all the while wallowing in this vague, belle-and-sebastian level misery conjured, all because after living in manhattan, i knew how exhilarating and magical the city is for and to me. 

why else am i lucky, besides the fact that i get brimful for my birthday?  b/c the next time i go there apres this weekend, it will be for the MOST SCANDALOUS FLOG MEETUP EVER on the 11th.  this will be one valentine's day when i'm not slightly blue vs. pink, b/c having sibil, nina, little nik and all my other flog girls as my valentines is ten times better than having cupid shoot some guy in the ass.  word to your mother.

tomorrow: extra long day at work, b/c we're extra short-staffed after one of my coworkers (the only guy at work!) wrecked his car (he's okay, tg).  i'm not even worried about the extra hours (third use of "extra" in two sentences-- revoke my english minor) or responsibility-- i'm too tickled by the fact that i haven't even been there a month, yet i dig these people so much that i was genuinely worried about our token male.  it's such a massive blessing when your coworkers are cool and you do something you genuinely enjoy.  remind me to tithe, yo. ;)

p.s.  if you haven't claimed your spot at the birthday dinner featuring brimful on the 29th, do so.  reservations are about to be made...one of these days.  time is of the essence!  shoes have been purchased!  it shall be a night of fabulousness, i assure you.  ;)

january 15th

low-key weekend off, i'm left shaking my head.  where did it all go?  on saturday, after a truly awful "breakfast" at the route one IHOP, i did a mammoth costco run (i.e. i was out of paper products, clorox, woolite, electrasol and everything else which powers a household, which was last purchased almost a year ago) which left me exhausted.  running around to four other places afterwards left me under the weather thanks to the shitty (terrifyingly howl-y) weather. i saw a streetlight bend over as if it were made of licorice and i freaked.

today i went to j.crew to buy a perfect, super-fine v-neck wool sweater for work (to wear over dress shirts)...and that was pretty much it.  they have a v. cute one which comes in every color, natch.  i cancelled my two other "to-do"s b/c i am paranoid about being sick this week, which is probably going to be busy, work-wise, since i'm taking a half-day on friday to go up to nyc with saji (i hope i didn't just jinx that).  i think it's the most miserable feeling when you're sick but you still have to go to work.  i've been slurping orange juice before and after a huge nap i had a few hours ago.  i feel okay.

blah blah blah.

here's all you need to know:

1)  i have awesome new fuzzy pale blue shearling slippers

2)  last sunday in january = birthday dinner in DC

3)  feb. 11 = birthday meetup for all flog-philes.

is 8pm too late for number two?  heh heh.   i typed "number two". ;)

january 8

i keep reading fotologs, and i want to post/comment, but i feel like if i have the time or inclination to do THAT, i should effusively thank everyone who kindly dedicated a day to me on the 4th, instead.  you have no way of knowing this, but i cried twice from all the sweetness, it was so overwhelming. even my mother was speechless and my sister was touched.  and neither of them are ever really online. there is so much goodness in our unintended, precious little community of floggers, i'm so fortunate to be a part of such a girl wide web (which includes three or four fantastic boys).  i want to leave comments on every individual page, but i haven't been able to b/c i haven't been online that much...it's so weird for me to get used to this, but i do NOT have net access to most sites that we're on during the day, so i'm off my usual routine with comments and blogging...

please don't think i didn't appreciate your words, or that i was too consumed with navel-gazing grieving to notice such gifts.  i did and i wasn't.  you are all phenomenal.  i sincerely thank you, in whatever meager way i can using this inapposite space.

:+:

so tired.  i worked BOTH days this weekend, but i'm off tuesday, so...well, nothing.  the list of things to do on le day off grows as if inspired by fantasia, but upon reflection, i'm grateful.  i'm happiest when i'm over-worked. ;)

okay, so the 14th doesn't seem to work for the vast majority of us AND brimful won't be here.  if chickpea is willing to abandon hotlanta for a trip north, far be it from me to schedule shit on a day that wouldn't inspire such rock star-ness.  you might recall that brimful is here the last weekend of january...ish.  shall we try and have dinner then?  friday?  saturday?  hash it out below, y'all.

in brief:

• trip to nyc on 21st for double birthday party = promising
• semi-pro soccer players are not semi-cool, rather, they are wholly so
• i have for all intents and purposes, NO phone until the new one (a.k.a. birthday gift from veena) arrives, since i have no home phone either.
• i really miss my hair, especially when wearing something strapless.  i just felt so nanga.  am i growing modesty for the first time in my cursed life??
• january 7th made me sort of blue, b/c it was Christmas, but i wasn't around anyone else who knew or felt that...and i was at work.  that day was sacred to my daddy for more than one reason...

january 4th

since i'm crying too much (still) to feel birthday-ish, i'm not surprised that dinner for two last night ended up being less than ideal.  well, it was actually okay until my "date" said something kind of cold (let's just say it was along the lines of, "i'm doing you a favor", though this wasn't regarding the dinner itself, thanggod) and was oblivious to how much it hurt.  i remember sitting there and thinking, "i know i'm not perfect and no one is, but who says something like that, especially on someone's birthday???"  to their credit, today they sent me a very apologetic email and all is forgiven.  but i digress. 

as i was tubthumping, i knew it was somewhat futile.  i was too sad, i didn't feel like celebrating anything or being social.  breaking out new "longitude" mascara barely inspired me to crack a smile-- that's serious.  i know, and maisnon will confirm it: i'm always late, but i was extra late to Indique, b/c i really did not want to go. you see, while attempting to get ready, i saw a commercial for the AKC dog show and i started bawling, b/c it reminded me of how the last time mom called me (before calling me from the vet/ER...with...the news), she was laughing about how she had just found rani's AKC papers, in the ongoing process of moving/cleaning. 

all of those beautiful dogs in 30 seconds...all i could do was remember how i couldn't walk her without being stopped by someone who was enthralled by her who wanted to know about her background, where to buy a dog like her, whether i'd sell HER (!).  oh, ranibaby...you are just like veena.  your pictures don't do you justice.  i look just like my pictures, but you and she, you're even better than the real thing.  i wish i had more pictures of you, sweetheart.  they are all i want to look at, these days.

i knew i had to go, whether i felt like it or not, since it was too late to cancel so i put on some jamiroquai (see post below), steeled myself, washed my face and decided to wear a "lucky dress" because i wanted to be reminded of a happier time.  i know this all sounds so random, weepy and disjointed, even to me.  but it's all true.  right now, it hurts to be awake, it hurts every time it hits me she's gone, it eviscerates me when i think of how the next time i go home, her eyes won't brighten as her tail goes nuts...gawd, i could cry again, just writing that.

dinner was hit or miss-- appetizer 1 yum, appetizer 2, not so much, "small plate" spit-out-worthy, dessert, an utter disappointment, tamarind margarita, excellent.  thankfully, even though they sang to two others in the restaurant and they knew it was my birthday, they didn't come over.  normally, i'd be game for that sort of thing, hell, i love attention.  to my father, my birthday was the most special day of the year and he made me feel that.

but last night...verge of tears was the state i was in...so it was probably net good that they ignored me, even if it hurts to be ignored (i usually don't give two shits about this, but i've noticed that two or three people i THOUGHT i was super close to, one of whom i thought of as "one of my best friends", haven't said anything about rani OR my birthday.  frankly, i think the first is more egregious.  reminds me of the people who glossed over losing my dad, as if life were peachy-keen despite this gaping hole in my chest.  is it relevant that the friends in question are all male?)

anyway.

on AIM last night, someone who knows me well gently suggested that i postpone my birthday so that i wouldn't regret not celebrating it (since i reeeeally regret not celebrating my 21st, 30th...etc). 

so, who wants to go out to dinner in dc on saturday, january 14th?

my heart is broken

july 24, 1996
---
january 2, 2006

december 22

i'm in DC, not CA.

like erasure sings, i won't be coming home for xmas.

as of monday, i have a new job which is ridiculously fun.

it is consuming me right now.

i don't mind any of the above.

it's been quite a week.

THAT i DO mind.

december 14, the omnibus edition

i keep meaning to post because there are so many comments/questions i need to answer, but there are also months (cue: shame spiral) of emails i'm behind on, so of course i made the BRILLIANT decision that if i sat in front of the computer, i would address those first.  sounded good in theory, but the execution...executed this diary 'o mine.  i'm still behind on GMails.  now, i've started to fire off replies immediately, whether i'm ready to or not, b/c i'm sick of starring everything and never getting back to it.  i know.  i am teh suck.

random things that i would've posted about had i actually been blogging recently:

=== i did get one of the FIRST tickets to see butterstick, the cutest resident of DC, BUT...BUT...this is me we're talking blogging about, so you know there had to be disappointment and heartbreak in the mix.  pacifically, little buttery baby was napping with his mummy, in an enclosure, during my allotted 15 minutes.  i strained to heroically take pictures of one of his ears for you.  and this leads us to our next tragedy.  despite taking 40 pictures of panda parts and the other, ignored animals who were actually viewable...when i plugged my NEW hottie one-gig card in my card-reader...

error.

sigh.  i lost all my pictures.  four hours in freezing temps and i had nothing to show for it, neither memories of ooey-gooey panda cuteness nor pictures of me gleefully waving my coveted panda viewing ticket.  sigh.  let's change my name to schlemiel and call it a day.  day.

=== my darling better-than-most-browns-gori andrea asked:

When did Depeche Mode suck?  Never, in my experience :)

well alluring andrea, apres Songs of Faith and Devotion, i stopped buying.  and listening.  i was so disgusted with "barrel of ass" or whatever it was, etc.  i fretted that losing alan wilder meant that DM was doomed to disintegrate.  the group i fell in love with, on a tinny portable radio in the mid '80s no longer sounded like themselves (or anyone else i'd care to listen to).  it got so bad, i put away my dozens of discs, records, 12"s etc.  listening to "behind the wheel/route66" depressed the shit out of me, (not a word out of you haters!) b/c i was morosely convinced they'd never sound so amazing again.  gawd, i'm so thrilled to be wrong.  "precious" gives me chills.  so do dave and martin, live, on a stage, singing like their concert at the rose bowl was yesterday.  swooooon.

=== brimful, under the same picture, quoted lyrics that she might also find on a certain flickr album.  synchronicity is sweet. :)

=== massively-missed maisnon, in response to my somewhat surprising postmodernist quiz results:

You are a Gender Nazi.  Your boundary-crossing
lifestyle inspires awe in your friends and
colleagues.  Or maybe they're just scared you
will kick their asses for using gender-specific
language.  Either way, the wife-beater helps.

typed the following

 

Dude, I don't think that fits you AT ALL.

(That pic is fabulously androgynous!)

admittedly, my eyebrows milimetered upwards when i saw that, but once i read the explanation again, it made sense, believe it or not. years ago, when veena first joined the air force and people kept addressing her as "airman" in my presence, she not-so-subtly kicked me in the shins b/c i kept muttering "airWOman" after each incorrectly gendered noun.  "shut UP," she hissed.  "no one is going to ever say that, so give it up."  to this day, i still write "airWOman" on her cards, which she receives while violently rolling those beautiful almondine eyes.  OTOH, when my father used to use the term-of-endearment "mon" instead of the feminine "mol" (think: beta/beti) for me, i was tickled b/c as he explained eaaaaarly on when i asked him, "i don't care if you are a boy or a girl.  'mon' is used for both". 

i do actually own something like 15 "A-tops", not that anyone is aware of this, since i wear them to work out or sleep.  i also REALLY have a problem with people referring to them as "Wife-beaters".  that bothers the shit out of me.  can't you just say tank top, you misogynist fuck?

=== this fiona apple quote that i posted brought me a tiny bit of comfort, during these days when i'm finding it difficult to write:

the times
when you're NOT writing
are just as important
as the times
when you are.
~ fiona apple

the times
when you're NOT writing
are just as important
as the times
when you are.
~ fiona apple

december 7

today is just plain anomalous.  i went to the penthouse gym at 5am and did chest+back AND cardio, while watching o'reilly and then anderson "pretty-boy" cooper.  that's just not me, it's not what i do.  however, i miss the lines on my abs and if for some reason i end up moving home, i will be naked far more often.  that's the thing about the right coast: you can go lax with the pedicures, leg-shaving and ab-torture b/c you're all bundled up for four mnonths.  in california?  not so much.  i came downstairs and ravenously devoured yesterday's bhindi with BROWN basmati rice/non-fat yogurt.  and thenga samanthi.  and red chili pickle.  yes, my tummy is burning, but it hurts so good, bitches. it's odd, i won't eat regular brown rice, but this organic basmati stuff ain't bad.

in other news, if you're dizzy from my back-and-forth geographic game of twister/musical cities, have pity on ME.  i'm living it.  i make my peace about DC for now, NYC for not-so-later and then something untenable happens...and i'm back to square one.  there's no point in making decisions, since i agonize for NOTHING, despite the fact that the universe is going to fuck with me no matter what. 

i'm really not this bitter.  hmmm, maybe i should've avoided posting for a few more days.

i'm half-tempted--probably b/c i've been bombarded with breathless teasers about it since i watch the news all night--to go to butterstick the baby panda's big debut today.

december 4

time hopscotches along calendars and i'm completely dis-associative.  i find myself reaching for WaPo to discover what the date is, similarly, i never realised how dependent i was on my now-defunct digital cable box for telling time.  there is no other clock in my living room.  it almost doesn't matter for these in between days, when i'm in limbo between consulting gigs, between years. 

i always start to shut down in december, withdrawing like a terrapin in to my shell, considering where the year went and where i'm going.  what next?  exactly a month ago, i thought i had made my peace with geography, then my stubborn heart flipped serenity a double-bird.  east may be a beast at times, but west doesn't necessarily feel best. despair over such binary situations is the only constant. decisions need to be made, obligations must be addressed, metaphorical bills, long-overdue, have to be paid.

2.5 weeks ago, i went to new york to commence this process of moving out of the past. that trip went no way near as planned.  that doesn't mean it was unpleasant, despite unexpected snafus right and left-- i could've written that WaPo article about chinatown buses getting shut down for mad sketchiness, after i was stranded at Penn Station on a friday night. still, those lemons became lemon drops as manish and 3V added sugar and vodka respectively to sourness.  flickr tells that tale but not the notorious one immediately after, the one that involves a devoted vinod patiently tending to me as i repaid such kindness with regurgitated white russians and a jello shot. 

have i mentioned that i'm a lucky girl?  who else gets stranded in manhattan, low on cash, plan Bs and patience, and ends up having one rock star night (after a quick cardio workout at the NYSC on park)?  said the vij, "you clean up nice at the gym!" indeed.  i also apparently clean up nice even post-vomiting thrice, since i got sick all over my gorgeous sequined camisole, new fur shrug AND jeans, yet woke up bleary-eyed, stumbled in the bath and was astonished to find all three drying on the shower rod/towel rack.  i don't remember hand-laundering all of that, but i was told i did.  3V's angelic little sister deemed me an easy drunk for doing so.

what's hilarious is that i can't be fucked to hand-wash ANYTHING, no matter how precious or expensive.  hermes scarf?  i sneak them in to mom's sari pile so she can curse me quietly as she does her monthly silk-cleansing.  frothy underthings?  that's what woolite-lingerie bags and...um...woolite are for, in the machine, damnit.  "status" jeans that veena dry cleans b/c she doesn't have time to hand-wash?  woolite, cold, MACHINE.  it's the first thing i check on potential purchases, how must i clean this mess?

november 30

a note excusing my absence:

then = no steady net access, veena

now = sheer exhaustion after over two days w/no sleep, including one miserable, noise-canceling-headphones-didn't-work, baby-infested, sleepless-though-i-took-TWO-sleeping pills-instead-of-my-usual-one, red-eye night-flight on the oldest, stinkiest plane known to man

that's why there have been no updates, except to SM (55 mins ago!) and the flog (two minutes ago!).

sorrrrry.

:+:

at least Veena is feeling better.  all that other shit pales when i get grateful for THAT.

november 4

trips home usually have the same sort of routine and flow, but this process of moving from childhood house to new...place...is one ginormous monkey wrench in my plans, i tell you.  i was in the new house all day waiting for the window people, then i was back at my old house doing laundry b/c the new house's washer/dryer aren't here yet, then i was helping my mom clear out the last few straggler-items from old house b/c the cleaning people are coming tomorrow (really, in five hours)...then it was back home, if i can ever get used to this strange new space as...home.  we spent some time unpacking saris, so that i could find something to wear to Livin' Simply's wedding reception tomorrow night, the entire reason i came home in the first place.  my mother fretted that i'd have problems puttin the sari on, since unlike the OLD house, THIS house has no full-lenght mirrors yet.  there are many things this pretty new house does not have, which of course my old house did.

it was ridiculously depressing to walk around "the old house", where i grew up, where my dad chased me in his attempts to spank me, where my sister and i played legendary monopoly marathons, where i learned what kind of music would help me survive life.  i haven't been that despondent in ages, and i've had a rather shitty year, in terms of reasons to be blue.  this was overwhelming though, to know that someone else would be in my house, which was new when we bought it and moved in, in '83.  this was my space, my notorious, oriental red carpet which has never been walked on with shoes in 22 years and thus, is flawlessly soft and spotless. 

there are so many gorgeous features that they just don't put in newer homes. like that amazing carpet, so plush, you can build card houses in it (and we did). our chandelier, our separate formal dining room, our actual fire place (vs. the gas thing in the new crib), our backyard which is larger than my sister's entire house, in arizona.  cathedral ceilings, double-front doors.  three-car garages.  balconies.  terra-cotta tile roofing. granite in the kitchen, porcelain on the floor.  my glass shower door my father installed b/c i didn't like curtains.  the ceiling fan in my room, still covered with a smattering of glow-in-the-dark stars that used to whir and blur me to sleep.

what if the new people who will inevitably rent it from us peel off my stars?

what if they take away the light-switch plates that i painted, painstakingly, by hand, in a fit of creativity-cured boredom when i was a teenager?

what if they repaint my room?

what if they do something terrible and hurt my house?

two of my dogs died in that backyard, my father passed away in that family room.  it feels like i'm leaving them behind, my precious, much-loved ghosts in my old house, soon to be inhabited by people who won't feel a flutter of recognition or joy when they are glimpsed, from time to time.  they will feel fear, if the are able to see such bits of magic at all.  they will not understand.

i hate moving.

november 1st...ish

it's wednesday afternoon and i'm at the corner table at greco, using my 24-hour wireless card for all it's worth...and now that i finished writing about nanowrimo for SM, i've used it all up.  sigh.  and my parking meter is out of change now, too. shut up, universe, i didn't ASK for a sign.

i never get enough time to blog these days.  >:(

but yeah, i am in SF.  and i'm writing a novel this month (ha!) and i had a blast at halloween, the meetup and everything else i've been lucky enough to do out here.  it almost makes the lack of blogging worth it...almost.  this weekend promises to be even FUNNER, b/c of receptions, and saris and jananis, oh my!  i've never burned through canon batteries faster-- the camera is never out of my hand these days.  the next few days will hardly be an exception. 

bored? peep flickr, for meetup pics that are rather sweet, if i do blog so myself. the badge to the left should be flashing those, ahora misma. oooh, this should excite you: i'll have photos that ensure that vinod, saheli and i NEVER get elected to public office (so says maisnon) up soon. ;)

hope you are all doing well?  and that you're forgiving me for the lack of diary/GMail replies?  ahhhh, i can never please everyone.  might as well please myself.  fat slice in berkeley's, here i come. :D

october 30

HEY.  i'm typing this on vinod's pc...three different people tried valiantly to help me get online at greco earlier today, but their gateway was down.  so THAT is why there was no liveblogging.  :(  and that's tragic, b/c it was the most hilarious, successful, pr0ntastic meetup EVER.

never fear, i took notes...but they're on my laptop, which is not here. 

i'll try to blog it all tomorrow, when i next have net access. it's annoying to not be able to post freely-- reminds me of the early/mid-90s, when you got AOL in terms of HOURS, monthly.  like, TEN.  but this is wayyy more frustrating.

focus on the positive: it's been a crrrazy weekend, from lush @ union square to dhamaal to cheerleading to "wings" to market street arguments at 2am (not betwixt any of US) to meetup to orgy at three-wee's crib... ;)

hope you all had as much fun as THAT this wknd...

october 27

i'm here. as of 10:30pm, i'm home. bless Jet Blue and their SEVENTY-NINE DOLLAR FARES. that's the only reason why it's even possible for this starving faux-artist to be...home. except i'm not, b/c it's their home not my home and i'm welcome no mooooore. okay, it's not quite like that. my mother bought a nice new house, and that's where i will be staying these almost two weeks. she's a star. all moved in, b/c i was coming. all furniture arranged, b/c i was coming. DSL on the way tomorrow, if all goes well, b/c i was coming.

i couldn't stop laughing in the car, on the way home from the airport. (she looooooooved my hair, btw) she had made plans for me and my godson on saturday, w/o asking me, w/o realising that i would be drunk in SF with brimful + maisnon, in honor of halloween...i won't be a good babysitter, not with all THAT goin' on ;)

so, my last comment leaver, a.k.a livin' simple, i made a promise-- i told you i'd make it. can't wait to meet you and k. can't wait to do a million things, now that i'm HOME.

anyway i can't write much (see: http://www.sepiamutiny.com/sepia/archives/002435.html for more on that). i can't even hyperlink, b/c only safari is working with this one bar of wifi reception, and the buttons aren't showing. perhaps this is a sign that i shouldn't be BLOGGING. i'm not an addict, baby, that's a liiiiiiiiiie.

october 19

wednesday is staff meeting day-- and today i couldn't stop thinking about how this was my last staff meeting.  the realisation filled me with wonder.  two more days, and it ends.  no worries, minnows.  i'm functioning like a german car; right on schedule with work, cruising towards friday's deadline, purring all the while.  i even had time to go to yoga class, which i haven't done in weeks. 

speaking of, i wish maisnon were here.  my instructor did NOT appreciate my new deepa-patented technique for "downward dog". no matter. right after teacher pushed me about to the "right" positioning, i went back to where i had started from, all the while muttering under my breath, "you're wrong.  deepa told me so."  and yeah, she kept mentioning that breathing i can't pronounce, but a few weeks ago, when i got my yoga tutorial, deepa knew what i was trying to talk about before i even opened my mouth.  sigh.  the west coast has no idea how lucky it got, when deeeee switched coastal teams.  :)

speaking of my home parentheses, lots of excitement looms ahead.  Halloween, reunions, MEETUPS, a new house...and my dog.  my gorgeous, regal, brilliant dog. after fawning all over every foreign canine who lives in my building b/c i can't see my own, i will fiiiiiinally get to pet, coo at and chill with the real deal.  i read something tonight that only intensified such feelings of anticipation.  the words at that link left me choking on salt.  chai, my prayers are yours tonight.  may your sweetness make a full, total, quick recovery.

october 17 (updated)

the brooklyn SM meetup was amazing with a capital "zing".  the nine hours i spent on vamoose in transit were well-worth the seven hours i bounced about nyc.  i have touched the legendary desidancer, y'all and i am richer for it.  by the by, she's quite the hottie in person.  watch out now.  i also hung out with fellow mutineers/erstwhile guest mutineers manish, turbanhead and cicatrix.  in addition to all THAT chocolate goodness, i met some shveeeet peeps, like our charming host Arzan, whose apt was just gemutlich. 

thanks to him, i have tried real parsi food.  you see, he's so considerate, he had vegetarian versions of everything for herbivores like me, vij, dd...if only the rest of the world could be so accomodating. ;) oh and in case you were wondering?  parsi food = yummy.  now, i can die peacefully, knowing my life was complete. ;) we all brought wine or beer (me= stella) but no one partook too much nor did anyone really notice the liquor-- we were all too busy exclaiming about the food.

the meetup lasted for hourssss.  what a perfect way to spend a sunday afternoon.  we were all grooving to the same energy, even though there was action in three-four separate locations: 

• the living room, where the biggest group hung out, talking talking talking
  

• the front door, where i tried to annoy vij and turbanhead, simultaneously

• the bedroom, where laptops were pulled out with such passion, you knew it was a desi bedroom

• the stoop, where dd and i thought we were in an episode of the cosby show, it all looked so beautifully familar

you missed out.  :)

when it was all over, Arzan was toe tweee, he dropped a bunch of us off in Manhattan.  it doesn't get much better than that-- bouncing along in a jeep with four kids who are cooler than you, or in this case, me. vij and i promptly took our low-key, non-rockstar asses to the BN at union square and had coffee and peanut butter bliss cookie. it was a ginormous cookie, hence its singularity. oh, yeah!  and we gossiped about ALL OF YOU. such fun!  don't believe me?  peep the album.

:+:

that "7" meme is sticking to my consciousness like lint on velcro. most of those surveys are disposable but i haven't stopped thinking about this one. what do i want out of life? what am i attracted to in a human? what am i capable of doing? so simple, all of those questions, but so significant, since i rarely ponder them. i felt like i was back in 8th grade and everyone had to write their names on a piece of paper, then pass it to whoever sat next to you.  your peers wrote nice things about you and at the end of the activity, we were all a little astonished at what others saw and appreciated within us. true, this is a little different, but what makes differentiates it might be exactly why it's so powerful. like most curmudgeonly spinsters, i spend more time dwelling, kvetching and bitching about what i can't rather than what i can. it's nice to reframe yourself, innit?

october 13

six days until i get trashed, because it's all over. eh, that's a bit dramatic. it just seemed like the apposite sentiment to marinate in, so i did. i don't know what's causing it, but the deadline at work isn't really stressing me out. (!)  i blame all of you and your warm fuzzies.  you minnows have brutally accurate aim with your positive vibrations, do you know that?  i'm smiling while i work, i'd whistle, but i've never been able to...it's mind-blowing that it should all be this peaceful.  it HAS to be you.

anyvay.

i've had...an interesting day. as for my interesting night, suffice to say i kept mumbling bitterly, "i missed the apprentice? for THIS?". yes, children, you are in for quite a deluxe diary entry.  i'll start at the very beginning, a verrrry gooood plaaaace to staaaaart. i was only at le job for a half-day, because i had an appointment before and an interview after work. this is annoying because i'm not going to bill what i had hoped to this week, but 'twas necessary.  i guess.

so my interview (which was to do VIP bottle service, like i used to back in 2001-2002) went well for me, but i don't think the guy who spoke to me was a fan of me apres the grilling...of him.  yes, 30% of the interview was about me, 70% was me firing off questions b/c the system for distributing tips at this uber-luxe, super-expensive, allgedly world-class lounge...makes no sense. 

let's get real, people:  when i worked at FIVE back in 2001, i tended bar next to a gorgeous persian guy-- with a PhD in biochemistry.  people with that many letters after their name pour appletinis *shudder* for clueless morons b/c the $$$ is FANTASTIC and THEN maybe they do it for the perks like skipping lines since you know every bouncer and throwing out anyone who annoys you, just b/c you can.  if the tip system is byzantine and essentially communist, then that is mad worrisome, yo.  i have a graduate degree.  i don't need this shit, unless, like in 2002, i can make $500 a weekend while having a blast.  shit, it's 2005.  i'd like to think i'd be able to make even MORE. 

they said i would have to do a "try-out", where i spent three unpaid hours observing and lightly participating; i shot back that i was free tonight, when they asked when i could do it.  i heard from another staffer that they were impressed with that, that no one else had offered to come in a mere four hours after their interview for their "try-out", which is meant to help them guage whether i'd be a good fit and v.v. 

i don't think i'm a good fit.

october 11, the wahhhh edition

i don't think, act or look 30, but i occasionally am bitchslapped with a reminder of my age-- i was in the shower thinking about what i wanted to write here and all i could do was wince and rub my neck and left shoulder.  the thought of mentioning yet another health issue infuriated me to no end and that's when it hit me-- i get injured so much more easily now. 

i thought it was just sleeping funny last night, but this is insane.  i was walking around at work today like i was impaled on a stake, which is something i last did after a horrific car accident in 2000...OW.  not good.  at least i can look straight ahead and pound out the content i'm writing for that deadline...eight days and it's ALL over.

i can't turn my neck in either direction happily and moving it to the left is excruciating. i really don't think i should be hearing noises when i move. i'm pretty sure i hurt something in my abs class, what with all that repetitive crunching upwards.  i think when we were working obliques plank-style, on our sides, i did something...bad. 

the whole reason i dig the abs class is b/c the instructor is a doll who comes up with all these unique ways to whimper in pain while feeling the burn...but the pain should be in my ABS, not my fucking neck.  i think what REALLY upsets me is that this whole cluster means i was doing abs improperly and i hate screwing things up.  proper form when working out is something i'm consumed with...that's why this is extra lame. 

when 800mg ibuprofen horse pills barely ameliorate the situation, it's bad, y'all. oh, if only i had kaiser again...i HATE my current health insurance.  really, it's only peace-o'-mind providin' if something catastrophic happens.  for all this middling, "eh" stuff...not so much.  i hate calling 1-800 numbers and getting a list of doctors in my area.  i just want to call a kaiser advice nurse and get an immediate appt at west end, next to GW.  i'd know which floor and which doctor and that's all so soothing. aaaaaaaghhhhhk.  i am a walking injury.  as much as i am slightly anti-dating-doctors, perhaps i SHOULD end up with one, it might just be an efficient strategy for dealing with my fantastic proclivity for destroying myself...

:+:

i'm toying with the idea of taking vamoose to new york at 7 and then back at 7 on sunday...i'm a sucker for meetups and parsi food sounds fascinating.  ah, who am i kidding.  i'll take any excuse to go to nyc. when i had a car here a few years ago, i used to do the 450-mile round trip twice a week, happily and easily.  the only reason i came back here is b/c my bartending gig was THAT lucrative. 

i had so much fun when i went last weekend...and besides maybe it won't be wet and nasty this time...i want a weather-related do-over. :)

october 10

no rest for the weary, no peace for my mind.  the next two weeks of work are going to be hell, i know this.  still, every time my mind drifts back to saturday, a now latent sweetness bubbles up, reminding me of 16-hours that contained so much joy.

oh, desidancer.  if only tamarind-laced tequila hadn't rendered your girl so useless.  your present would've been yours and my ecstasy would have doubled.

it was worth it, worth the $170 ticket, worth the exhaustion, worth the nerves, worth the hangover, worth the rain.  nights like that are the reason why we are alive.

october 5

the cold war is over; as of one cordial and sincere email exchange earlier today, there is no "beef" betwixt malayalee girls who use fotologs. little nik, consider it a  "bon voyage" gift to you.  your chechi is all sorted. ;)

emily gilmore will be attending suki's wedding at "breadbar", pending a straightening out of logistics which pacifically involve whose new york-area couch to crash on, since her preferred bunk is inaccessible for the saturday in question. thank you for all the thoughtful responses; desidancer's in particular made me laugh out loud/want to take her as my date.  andrea's made me want to hug her, it was so her.

busy, busy, busy with these final days of my project at work, with my newest "pledge", with the mundane details of my crazy, frothy life which somehow consume hours, voraciously, until it's 3:40 am and i haven't even done the laundry yet.

i'm going to focus on the positive. sindoor the final betta is still alive. the dishwasher is humming, the recycling was schlepped down 14 stories and today is the first day i didn't touch medicine.  nary a cough drop rested on my tongue.  (i think i had one spritz of zicam yesterday, which is paltry, but still). i remembered to take my flintstones multi, my essential fatty acids AND my echinacea-laced gummy bears.  that's a first.

i've worked out every day since saturday...i had forgotten how satisfying and challenging interval training could be.  i'm pushing myself harder than i used to-- shorter breaks between sprints.  we'll see how this develops.  yesterday, i worked out three different times, if you can believe it.  weights at 3, then shower, then work.  abs class at 7:15, then shower, then work.  cardio at 11, then shower...again.  i don't think i've ever had a day quite like that.  fuck you, metabolism.  you may have won an early battle, but i'll be damned if you are victorious in this war against cheese.

october 4

I rolled my eyes when my friend Nisha used to watch the Gilmore Girls, when we were at GW...I couldn't see the appeal.  When I moved home in 2003, I was shocked to learn that Moms watched it, too.  My Mother hates TV.  This is why we don't have cable, like other normal families.  She switches on the television for the NBC Nightly News every evening and then turns it off. For her to watch a network series...it blew my mind.

Well, the old woman got me hooked.  Today I was in agony, trying to decide how I would make my 7:15 abs class (with my fave instructor, who only teaches once a week) AND take a 14-minute train ride home AND watch it, when it starts at 8pm.  I told myself that I was being pathetic if I let a TV show dictate my schedule, that I mocked people like that, so I did the abs class and told myself "I'll get home, when I get home."  Or, at 8:35pm, which is what the clock read as I burst through the front door.  Frustrating, but oh well.

When I first sat down with MY Mother to watch it two years ago, she snickered and said that I reminded her of a character on the show-- I thought she meant Lorelai, the protagonist or Rory, the daughter...maybe we would bond by watching this Mother-Daughter program.  Yeah, that's the ticket.  Um, no.  If you are familiar with GG, then you know the personality of Emily Gilmore well.  Mother of Lorelai and Grandmother of Rory, she's an old money, cold, demanding, imperious, Connecticut-WASP-matriarch to the max.  THAT'S whom I remind my mother of...I threw a pillow at her and she didn't back down.  "You're JUST like her.  Watch.  You'll see."

I remember that some social event happened on the show (Suki's wedding??) and Emily Gilmore received a last-minute invite to it.  She was the picture of well-contained rage.  "It's a PITY invite!", she declared and it was obvious that she felt like if her presence were really desired, she would've found out about the event at an appropriately early time.

Something similar has happened to me today and I wonder if my Emily-like reaction is warranted.  Truthfully, when I found out about this occasion, I felt hurt that I had been left out of all the fun.  Now a hand has been extended my way (though not from the..."hostess"...if that's what you can call it) and I wonder if I should go.  I don't feel wanted, I'm worried I'd be imposing.  They knew how to get in touch with me; since they didn't, doesn't that mean they're just not that in to me?  That's how I read it, especially since the two women who seem to be central to this function aren't fond of me, AFAIK.  I can already hear the, "You're taking this too seriously/You're silly for not coming/Well, I'm inviting you"-objections from the kind soul who asked me if I'd go...

What would you do?

:+:

Work.  is.  crazy.

october 2

i feel better.  but not better enough to spend four hours on a bus, eight hours wandering the streets of manhattan and four more hours on a bus.  :(

the sad thing is, i was so excited to go and see desidancer perform. i didn't even go out on friday night, because i thought resting would guarantee that i'd be up for a crazy sunday.  sigh.

with ennis' words ringing in my head, "you may WANT to go to new york, but you know you shouldn't, you'll get sicker..." i pussied out.  gah.

the truth is, i was still feeling so exhausted and achey, i didn't even go to SALTAF...and that shit was in town and FREE.  sigh sigh sigh.  i'm so worried this is turning into a sinus infection.  i've had a brutal headache concentrated in my t-zone on and off all weekend.  i so don't need sinusitis.

i did make it to my saturday morning hip-hop dance class.  and i did see sjm for a few chill hours on saturday night (he was back in dc for SALTAF)  but aside from that, nothing.  no leaving the house.  no glam anything.  this is one of the first weekends where i FEEL 30.  i'm not as much of a rockstar anymore, kids.  wah.

oh, and a fourth fucking fish died.  what the hell.  the oldest (and last) one is six months old and still here (knock on ikea)...the other four...gone.  depressing.  it's like the universe is tying up loose ends FOR me.  hey!  look!  you can move, ANNA!  you don't even have pets to worry about now!  meh.  i have the immune system of a retarded gnat.  and my life is like a freight train with no brakes or conductor.  seacrest, out.

september 27

yep, still sick.  didn't go in to work since waking at 2:30pm not conducive to success/achieving anything.  damned nyquil.  deep down though, i knew it was the wise thing to do.  rest and fluids, that's the only way i'll kick this. 

so i did a bit of both.

i know i'm painting quite the slacker pic, but i actually did get some work done, thanks to the magic of the interweb and the clarity of sprint's mobile service.  we will not miss our deadline tomorrow, no, not b/c of me, we won't!

obligations met, i watched gilmore girls and debated whether or not i like rory with side-swept bangs. 

i blew my nose eleventy-million times.  my nose is running, even as the illness which causes such a process prevents ME from doing so.  yes, i miss the gym.

roomie is sicker than i am, which ensures a daycare-like sitch where we just trade germs back and forth and remain sick for all eternity. 

moms thinks this is hilarious:  "EVERY SINGLE TIME the season changes you get sick.  i know you hate change, but STILL!  that's no reason to catch a cold b/c of it."

ha-ha-hee-hee.

at least the curse which only afflicts the penisless is over.  and my eye is no longer pink!  w00t small mercies.  ACHOO!

:+:

brimful, you will be elated to learn that a certain newlywed spent 45" lobbying me to move home, earlier today.  she even half-offered/ half-threatened to fly out here and abduct me over the weekend, to get the party started quickly. ;)  i immediately changed the subject to maisnon's recent move and how i knew that newlywed-LS would adoooore her, as if such a gambit would work with the steely bride.  unfortunately, unlike me, LS isn't easily distracted by sparkling objects.  she was back to lobbying, lickety-shplit.  :D

september 26

it DID get worse!  hooray for my psychic abilities.  today, the most cherished, long-standing dream of every single one of my ex-bfs came true; i lost my voice. 

i went to CVS in the middle of the day to stock up on provisions.  unfortunately, though i work in a posh enough area that there are no less that four starbucks in a two block radius, our CVS looks like something out of communist russia.  i.e. picked clean.  all i wanted was some damned orange juice.  of course, they were out.  of orange juice.  wtf?

i bought those chloraseptic/fake-listerine strip things for my unbelievably sore throat, which felt like it was wearing a super-chunky wool sweater, then i picked up some lozenges. 

honestly, the tea and tylenol i had probably did more for me than any of this OTC junk.  sigh.  i don't mind being sick, but sore throats?  those are the worst.  owww.  i'd gargle with saltwater but i don't own any salt.  i know, shocking.  i swear i don't.  i just grabbed an IKEA folding chair and nearly killed myself by standing on it to forage through the top-most cabinets, which are clearly only useful if you are seven feet tall.  still no sodium chloride/NaCl (that was for brimful, but only if i was right).  did i mention that my throat hurts? >:(

:+:

when i'm sick, sad or cranky, i want indian food.  nothing else will do.  so tonight, i made rasam.  and rice.  and those insanely addictive pappads from punjab which have pepper in them and look like swiss cheese once fried (holes).  i was shocked that i was together enough to make dinner from scratch, since i haven't cooked in, oh, three months.  i'm paying for my burst of energetic efficiency now though.  i am wan and wasted.  and i can still smell rasam.  damn.  if i hadn't brushed my teeth in preparation for bed, i'd probably go have a midnight slurp.

september 25

come over here and kiss me, so you can catch my m0th3rfuck!ng rhinovirus. 

it's actually kind of minor at this point, but there's always the chance it will worsen! :D 

i also happen to be experiencing a lovely monthly ritual which compounds my misery.  you know, the one which reminds me that i don't have a penis? (and yes, i know it's good for me to remember this once in a while.)  yeah.  AWESOME TIMING, universe.  cramps AND a cold!

oh! and i managed to get some kind of eye infection-thing in my left eye.  THIS is funny.  settle in, minnows:

i call it the curse of my dead bettas-- i was disposing of siamese fighting fish corpses (three died, mysteriously and simultaneously last week) and changing the water of the two fish who are pictures of health, when i accidentally splashed something toxic in my eye.  this is all hearsay, you see.  or read, rather. 

why am i repeating a rumor vs typing a memory?  ah, that would be b/c i was crunked when i decided to do this shit on a friday night.  i had gone to SJM's farewell party/roast but i left somewhat early b/c it sucked (more on that later)...aside: everyone's leaving the east coast and it's kind of crazy how they're all ending up in SF.

apres SJM, i went out to "float" in dupont (that's for you maisnon) and left bank in the morg...when i got home, the roomie teased me and said i was a bad mother to all me fishies and i went apeshit.  fishshit?  suddenly, i was a tasmanian devil, ministering to the two living bettas and holding funeral rites for the dead.  please, people...for the love of all that is sacred...don't give me ideas when i'm crunked.  SHEESH.  my ability to change fish tank water isn't solid unless i'm SOBER.  duh.

now you know.  there's a reason why i didn't leave the house this weekend, it's b/c i'm a gimpy, whimpering, one-pink-eyed, kinda cough-y FREAK.

:+:

september 21

bang in the middle
front row
em em eye eye eh eh, em eye eh
throat is raw
feet sore
too exhausted to move
but she was amazing, and thus, so worth it. 

if i had energy i'd be writing
about it for SM. 

i think i have a girl-crush...

september 15

the day in numbers:

# of meals - 4
# of showers - 3
# of workouts - 2
# of times i almost called maisnon -

.
.
.

...one.

:+:

yup, you read right.  i worked out TWICE.  i did the military-abs class at lunchtime and then i went back for MORE-- i braved the 6pm kickboxing class.  it's so weird...i don't feel dead.  or even exhausted.  during the classes themselves, sure, i questioned my sanity, but by 7ish, i was feeling rather perky, still am.

i've never had either of today's instructors, so i felt very thorough (and open-minded and adventurous) for test- um...gymming them. as of today, i've sampled five different teachers in one week.  it's an eye-opener, they're all extremely different.

the abs class was "military" b/c the teacher was screaming orders at us ("left!  right!  left!  right! don't! even! think! about! stopping! left!") AND if ONE person paused or looked like they were quitting or even just skipping a rep, he'd restart his count, so he was just brutal.  the most dissonant thing about him was the fact that he was barking all this shit at us...yet he was such a teddy-bear.  seriously.  i've never been terrified of an over-stuffed, flaming gay guy before, but today i thought i'd wet myself.

and then i showered.

and then i went back to work, after picking up lunch.

september 14

i gave yoga a second shot today.  my first experience with it was an incense-filled, new-age-soundtracked disaster back home.  i was the youngest person in the room by about 15 years and i really didn't feel a damned thing.

today, i felt something.  granted, it was the excruciating soreness from my kickboxing class two days ago, but i was feeling it aight.  no, really the yoga wasn't that bad.  no smells, sounds or middle-aged trendoids wearing yoga 'fits that matched their monogrammed yoga mat carriers.  my teacher was terribly sweet and quiet, i found myself very attached to her by the end.  later, i found that her "downward dog" was absolute garbage (maisnon is a yoga fiend, y'all) but it's okay.  i felt all peaceful and shit after the class, so that's good enough to justify some more.

speaking of downward dog, I HATE IT.  i feel like it's my hindu ancestors exacting revenge for my abandoning the faith. nevermind that the abandoment occurred two fucking millenia ago. OW.  now that maisnon demonstrated (not once, twice but THRICE) how it's done, perhaps it won't feel like torture.  i'll get back to you guys on that.

i'm really just prattling on about nothing and ignoring the fact that i'm frowning and my tummy aches with anxiety and sadness.  no, it's not the insomnia.  i'm used to that.  it's the exquisite loneliness which comes with losing one of your best friends to an opposite coast.  i knew this day was coming, i knew it would hurt, i just didn't know it would burn like this.  :(

it feels like this chapter of MY life is winding down, too, for this reason and a few others, those even more tragic. 

when she goes, what else is there for me here?  memories of confidences shared under moonlight, in the car that was the incubator for this relationship (on a cold new york road, seemingly forever ago) in the first place.  a ghost to walk the streets of adams morgan with me, protecting me from the groping hordes.  a face i'll possibly never see over frites again.  my lord, this is so depressing.  no wonder she refuses to "do" goodbyes.

september 12

i haven't kickboxed in a little over a year and i can feel that. 

my excessively perky instructor wasn't helpful; she was barely audible over the "trance hits of 1999" CD and she didn't seem to grok that there were women present (for indeed, there were none penised in attendance) who were at ALL skill levels.  finally, midway through, she started issuing commands that were actually executable for someone who isn't a triathlete.  i suddenly missed my heavenly gym in NorCal, the professional, no-nonsense instructors who were attentive and inspiring, the air-conditioned studio which was over twice the size of the space 14 of us were squeezed in here. i especially missed sparring. ;)

after about ten minutes of "world's smallest violin" solo, i realised that i wasn't IN cali and it would do me no good to remember superior experiences.  i threw myself in and did the best i could.  some of the combinations came back instantly.  my punches haven't decayed...but my roundhouse is pathetic. 

wearing my new balance mules wasn't helpful either.  i also forgot that it's easier to focus on form when you're in a tank top vs a tee which conceals your delts.  i hadn't planned on taking the class so i was a wee bit unprepared.  next time, i'm wearing my basketball kicks and something sleeveless.  if there is a next time.  who knows, i may be suffering from the after effects of today's 45" of huffing and puffing for some time to come.  i know for sure my ankle isn't happy about front kicks or lunges.  it's still weak from the sprain.  :(

a friend complimented my new-found dedication to the gym but then offered that they preferred me zaftig.  well, they pacifically preferred my ASS that way.  when i dropped down to around 20% bodyfat, i had no bottom.  no worries.  i'm all about the thunderosity of my booty.  i'm just interested in shrinking my handlebars.  it would be one thing if i were to put it on Timb like a porno star (roll back the tape in the vcr), but i'm not planning to do so.

lordy, y'all but i be out of the shape.  that just makes me crave more kick-torture.  bring it, bitches.  i'm your huckleberry.

september 8

in my slightly giddy excitement, while packing, i hacked my thumb open.  i mean HACKED.  cleaning blood off the bathroom counter, hacked.  you never realise how lovely your thumb is, 'til you can't use it.  ;)

i reeeeally don't feel like getting a manicure while it's open like this.  must go to CVS and buy that pricey liquid skin goop.  this bitch HURTS, yo.

my 48 hour adventure commences in under 12 hours.  :D

as usual, i can't sleep.  and my hair is still dripping wet, though i washed it an hour ago.  fun!  ahhhhh, i haven't felt like this since i went to CALIFORNIA.  i'm THAT wired.

september 7

staying exactly in the middle of the moment is the difference between drowning and floating. 

when it all falls down, call your mom and tell her you're okay.  tell her what she wants to hear: better yet, believe it.

if the people you are forced to be around are a reminder of the worst things possible, consciously overcome the overwhelming desire to whimper under the covers while shaking; turn towards others who represent the opposite.

make travel arrangements.  even if you're broke, broken, or broken up.

debate chopping off all of your hair and donating it to cancer patients with your cautious best friend, after you eat cheesecake with her at an outdoor "cafe".  pick up the check before she can, b/c you love her, you're grateful for her, and YOU can.

tip the smartass who meant no harm 20%, as a retroactive nod to those who did the same for you, when you were the tender of bar.

live, even if it's the hardest thing to do, at the moment.  it is what it is, but it won't always "is".

if all else fails, turn your television on to any news channel, don't allow yourself to turn away from what nature did and you'll suddenly realise

a) what it's like to have REAL problems 
b) that you have none.

a lover is an illusion who can will cease to exist but love is truth and never ending.

finally, write pap that sounds like the bullshit everyone immediately forwards to five friends without deleting, lest the chain-email deities of doom smite them with misfortune.  sigh.

september 6

today i:

- bought more bonne bell lipsmacker stuff i don't need, since i couldn't find my burt's bees lip blam and i was parched.  no, that is not a typo. w00t "$1 off" CVS coupon.  :p

- i know you want to know which one i bought...it was strawberry.

- talked to someone i met in college/have known for 10 years...for an hour.  he cheered me up.  he also said that in college, i was 10 years ahead of my time.  that made me laugh.

- ate my first subway sandwich in five years.

- i know you want to know which one i bought...it was a veggie delite, sans cheese, on italian herb bread with the chipotle goo.  i can't taste the cheese that subway is lame enough to use.  no use wasting fat grams on THAT.  jared-ville, here i come!

- talked to my sister for the first time in a month.

- went to abs class w/the instructor i suddenly adore.  i've been looking fwd to it all week.  that's a good sign.  speaking of, no sign of julie t. money anywhere.

- went BACK to work apres gym...left at 9:30pm.

- talked to someone who is most def NOT a chicken-curry girl for an hour.  we will be having the cheesecake tomorrow.  it will suck in comparison to anything created by the divine baker brimful, on this we somberly agree.

- took a sleeping pill that obviously is not working.

september 5

harrumph.

at least i worked out today.  happy labor day, indeed.  oh, wait.  i wrote this for Sepia, too.  massively exciting holiday, right? beyond that, it's been a FANTASTIC four days, i tell you.  just peachy.  so peachy, i'm convinced that i was stalin in a past life.  what other reason for such SHITTY karma?

:+:

brimful, LS, maisnon, NS...i heart you all. thanks for answering my call,  for all the concern, advice and love.

august 30

can't sleep.

methinks the starfcuks wench slipped me something that wasn't decaf.  sigh. 

focus on the positive, focus on the positive...uh...i went to the gym.  i left work at 7ish, got to abs class at 7:15 and was back at work by 8pm.  who's a bad ass?  ME, bitches.  a bad ass who can't sleep. :/

i would've worked out yesterday, but i ended up traipsing around town (over two miles!) running errands in these shoes.  FOUR-AND-A-HALF inch heels?  that's a workout, i tell you.  as it turns out, they're not as easy to walk in as i initially assumed...no matter.  i bought my second copy of suitable boy, and that makes my aching calves worth it. :)

august 27

though it's completely impossible for me to pull this off on a WORK day, i woke up at 9:30am after less than four hours of sleep.  not good.  i went to the gym at noon, for two hours.  that was me acting like a champion.  i haven't made it to the gym at ALL this week, and i work right next to one.  TODAY's trip to exercise required a metro ride to another neighborhood.  that's dedication, bitches.

i was starving after 40" of arc training and legs, so i made the mistake of falling for some high school dance team's plea to eat at Baja Fresh, since they'd get a cut of the profits as a fundraising strategy.  um, yeah.  i think i've had BF once.  since i don't remember it, that's gen. not a good thing.  Baja Fresh is still not a good thing.  blech.

after lunch, i meandered over to the apple store and bought a wristband for my iPod.  i kept dropping it during my workout, since i had no way of attaching it to me.  annoying.

i came home, took a loooooong shower and passed out.  glamorous saturday, eh?  i thought so.  :p

:+:

so i was trying to do something cute, by making this quiz for SM...and it, of course, blew up in my stupid face.  i spent so much time googling these LJ/AIM-ready quiz sites, yet none of them seemed stable or appropriate for what i was trying to do...then i remembered that amardeep had once used a certain site to create a music quiz.  i searched through SM's comments and found his link; it seemed to be the most solid "test your friends to see if they'll put up with your narcissism" option, and i remember thinking, if it's good enough for the professor, why not?

why not, indeed.

oy.

of COURSE, a gaggle of gloriously retarded asshats and assholes had to fuck and muck everything up.  though i tried to troubleshoot/think of everything in advance of publicizing my little diversion, i didn't know (until it was too late) that there was no way to delete people's nicknames.  and they were choosing some very interesting, exceptionally evil, incredibly insulting nicknames (the best:  ANNA's father is ashamed of her), all of which were visible on the "scoreboard" that everyone sees after taking the damned test.

sigh.

august 25

oh. DRAMA.

august 21

dear desidancer,

you were so right.  there is an ISP in langley park, md, home of the machete-wielding gang members who've killed and maimed a few dozen people in the last two weeks (or so it seems).

nevertheless, i braved the wild, wooly violence-capital of the DC metro area and was richly rewarded; i found the loveliest, yummiest, most delicate...
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
mysore masala dosa at udupi.  ;)

shopping makes you HUNGRY.  my sari was royal, fit for a princess, purchased at the palace, worn to the ball.  i could hug you, it's so wonderful. 

how was the parade???

:+:

i'm egg-sauce-ted.

five states,
four wardrobe changes,
three am and two loads of laundry are done. 

one weary blogger is going to go to bed, slightly down and out b/c though the weekend was a raucous rollercoaster of rollicking rock-star-like partying, two posts i've been working on which i had been determined to post "when i get home" are unfinished. i was crestfallen to find that my uncle's router wasn't routing. meh. my addiction to the interweb is no longer a joke; it's the real deal holyfield (and all you hookers and hos know how i feel).  blogging?  HA.

i hate disappointing people.  i hate disappointing ME more.  i know, i know...the pressure i feel to give you guys content with which to avoid work, it's self-imposed, but still...

:+:

where does the time f^@%!n& go?  it's already MONDAY?  damn.

august 11 (the early edition)

everything really does look better in the morning, especially after real sleep.

i coaxed myself into bed at around 12:30 and set the TV sleep timer for 30 minutes. i was trying to recapture a familiar and much-loved routine where i fall asleep about a minute after Conan's monologue finishes.  it almost worked.  my eyes fluttered open at around 1:15 and i felt very disoriented.  mercifully, i sneaked back to the land of nod.  i have a feeling that working out at 7pm helped with that process. 

my eyes opened to sunlight. time? 6:15. i was shocked.  i can count the number of times i've awoken on a "school day" sans screeching alarm on two hands.  one-and-a-half hands, even.  i've been cautious and anxious for the last two hours or so-- have i really slept enough?  it can't possibly be true, but apparently, when you're well-rested you do wake yourself up.  huh. 

i'm a little tired, and i'm yawning like a champion but who knows.  i may start acting like a normal, on-schedule human being one fine day that is sooner than i previously (yesterday) thought.

:+:

thanks for all the love.  thank you, you, you, you two and you too and of course, you.  i'm always in awe of how the interweb delivers kindness so swiftly and surely.  when i regularly mutter "better living through technology", i mean it.

july 26

what are the odds?  i ran in to JT while crossing "Ts" and dotting an "I" at New York Washington Sports Club.  i thought it a good omen and i said as much, to the bewildered membership coordinator.  apparently, JT works out there nearly every weekday.  how lucky am i? FINALLY!  someone at the gym whom i actually know.  i've never had a workout buddy before.

oh yeah, DC area malayalee vomens...we're doing HH when i get back next week.  and THIS time, it'll be gallery place/chinablock or the convention center vs adams morgan/tryst.  :D

:+:

as if you assumed otherwise, but just in case you had, i'll reveal the predictable and obvious:

it's
1:30am
and
i
haven't
packed
yet.

w00t me!

24 hours from now, i'll be wading through the steaming masses in CALIFORNIA, yearning for my luggage!  i can't believe i'm going to go to sleep, go to work, make a deadline, rush home and maybe hit the gym before colliding with rush hour traffic on my way to my 7pm flight.  insanity, thy name is wednesday.

:+:

if the gilmore girls were on EVERY night during prime time, i'd do an hour of cardio a day.  tonight i watched rory lose the chilton student and the next thing i knew, it was minute 45.  yowza.

july 25

annnnnd...july 25 was the day where nothing i did went right or was good enough.  at work, i grew frustrated b/c i was massively confused by what i'm trying desperately to get done before my flight on wednesday...i felt seriously lame for a few hours, until i was reminded that it's only my fourth day and that NO ONE besides unreasonable me expects me to grok it all...

...and on HERstory, a comment thread turned interesting but ultimately problematic for me, as non-profits became the topic of the day.  i was taken aback by two comments left AFTER i thought i had clarified things (it was never my intention to start an entire convo about that which i clarified).  then, a well-meaning friend whom i know IRL ripped people a new one b/c they are sweetly protective of me and thought that i was getting disrespected.  the worst part of this is not the fact that said friend then proceeded to reveal areas of the "80"/my private life(!)
OR
that i didn't notice this until a third friend pointed it out
BUT
how it affected my perception of the situation. for better or worse, i couldn't shake my friend's take on the situation.  in the end, i did feel talked down to a bit, vaguely insulted, patronized...you get the picture. 

well, i've managed to come full-circle.  a few minutes ago on SM i apparently hurt someone's feelings.  fan-fucking-tastic.  they system DOES NOT work and i am going to bed before i muck up anything else.  today, i am not a good blogger and that ouches.

so much for being proud of interval training and torture abs at the gym...

>:{

july 24

bored? read this post on HERstory that is bringing the meany-pantsies out from the rocks they reside under. i'm not upset though.  they're out-commented by the sweet, good, kind, understanding people 15-1...

sigh.

okay, fine.  tired or not...

today i:

- attended church, where my feisty orthodox priest called out them protestants ;)

- shopped at whole foods, where i tried high-protein granola + vanilla yogurt for the first time.  i actually bought some-- i never do that no matter how yummy the samples.

- ate boursin cheese with the fresh sourdough from aforementioned...

- almost tried vegetarian sushi roll things.  totally weaseled out. 

- passed out into a carb coma for three hours.  couldn't believe how tired i felt AFTER.

- deleted a piece of shit who kept posting some poor girl's cell # on SM

- decided that all four fantanas are not cute.

- tried to update my fotolog:

(that's blogger kingsley, from saturday when i met him for the first time)

- freaked out slightly that i haven't packed for my wednesday flight yet.

- freaked out even more b/c i'm only going to get six hours of sleep... :)

:+:

to the only sibling i have, the only person who has my dad's DNA besides me, the only girl who has me wrapped 'round her pinky finger--

happy birthday, akiko.

july 20

thanks to all the sweetness sent my way, i had a FANTASTIC first day (though it almost launched with a rather inauspicious start...think alarm clock clusterfcuk).

THANK YOU! :)

your first day is bound to go well when people sincerely exclaim, "i'm so excited you're here!" and similar right after you get introduced or re-introduced.  i felt like i was stepping into a familiar, much-loved pair of jeans; the role was one i've played before and yes, it was a good fit.

i didn't get to apply any makeup or do anything spectacular with my hair (see: aforeblogged clusterfuck) and so i felt less than polished as i rushed out my front door.  at least i remembered to generously perfume with my lucky signature scent (whose name i shall never reveal).  the hair thing turned out to be an inspired non-choice; it was so damned hot, a chignon was the only merciful option. it's probably a good sign that i didn't even think of such shortcomings, i was so immersed in my day.  ah, staying in the moment/mindfulness.  once i master that, i shall rule the world (as opposed to having occasionally great stretches of a few hours).

at lunch, i went to may company where for once, the chanel woman noticed that i existed without me clearing my throat a dozen times or looking at her piteously.  i wasn't shocked when i learned that she was one of their national makeup artistes-- i'm sure the regular dept store wench would've ignored me.  THIS is why i buy all my shit at the boutique on maiden lane in SF, not that you asked.

i just meant to buy a powder, since i hadn't applied any and i was running low anyway...i ended up getting coaxed into a black leather chair for a total face.  my yeux/ojos/kanna have never looked better.  when i have $65 i'm totally springing for the limited edition eye shadow compact she used on me. it was inspired by a chinoiserie screen that graced coco chanel's rue cambon apt.  visually arresting, unbelievably gorgeous, it's like the pallu of a good sari.  it's also $$$$$$$$$$$.  sigh. 

july 19

whenever i have something important to do the next day, like a flight or starting a new job...i can't sleep.  figures.

yes.  my genius readers, you know that i've got a week before i jet blue to california, so it must be the latter.  which one of you called my life a roller coaster?  i can't remember.  no matter, it so is.  i started a DIFFERENT job a week ago and it ended up being so far from what i expected or anyone else expected, it was just an untenable situation.  after three days, i understood why such a "great opportunity" had not been filled.  blech.  here's the thing: you know it's trouble when you're six hours into your new gig and your supervisor has thanked you/said sorry for the tenth time.  "i can't believe you're still here!  did i say still?  oops!"  um, yeah.

the people i was working with were lovely, the situation wasn't.  it's unfortunate, b/c it paid more than i've ever made, but if we've learned one thing from my 25 hours of employment last week, it's that i have a price.

i'm excited about tomorrow.  this is the job i interviewed for ten days ago.  the interview didn't even feel like an interview, it went so well.  the people were so kind, the expectations were familiar and the location is phenomenal--it sits on TOP of a metro stop...i.e. you ascend metro's escalators and you make a beeline for the huge glass doors that are all of six feet away...sweeeeeet!

i'll be ascending those damned escalators in 6.5 hours!  sigh.  why can't i ever get any sleep?

:+:

i get to meet glenn's friend from ny on thursday, which is shaping up to be another massively significant day.  never mind that i've never met glenn...i'm beyond such trivialities at this point of my online existence. ;)

:+:

i kicked ass today.  i didn't get to go do something fun, like write at tryst, but i org'd my apt like i was martha stewart on blow.  i vacuumed.  thrice.  it's a good thing.

july 18

still swamped, but i got a LOT of things done today that i had no desire to accomplish.  so that's very good.

i'm tinkering with the blog template (duh, like you didn't already grasp that).  TypePad has a bunch of options that didn't exist back in 2003...i'd been meaning to play with them, never got around to it.  i might be changing the way diary works.  stay tuned.  ;)  as for this design, it's helpfully and obviously called "baby".  i don't give a shit.  i like ducks and i dig the colours.  for now, it'll do.  it's not flawless but that will just motivate me to finish the re-design.

oh yeah. ek other ting. i'm GOING HOME AGAIN.

California, here i come!  ah, almost a full week in ze golden e-state.  it doesn't feel like a week, though.  three days are all for BlogHer or SM-related activities.  that only leaves three days for friends, godchildren and family.  and dog.  sigh.  i haven't even gone home yet and i'm already sad about having to leave.  :)  that's so me. 

mindfulness.  the secret lies in mindfulness.  i know.  now you do, too.

july 13

egg

saws

ted

:{

july 11

an enormous wave of gratitude to all of you who left comments wishing me well with my hugely stressful day.  i was continually surprised that so many of you were cheering me on-- i felt like "hank".  ;)

your positivity worked.  my mind is blown.  despite mini-disasters that ended up forcing a $20 cab ride (still got there four mins early though) among other stress-positions, i couldn't have done better than i did.  desidancer, i shattered every bone beneath my pelvis.  in other words, i have to be somewhere bright and early...TOMORROW.  that leaves less than five hours for sleep, my pretties...so i'm off.  i just wanted to thank you and tell you that you are all magic b/c my mom is amazed.  "rrrreally?  no!  REALLY?  i. am. SO. HAPPY!"  good news has that effect on her. ;) 

i adore you all.  seriously.  :)

i'm still kind of loopy-- i knew that i was "wanted", i just didn't know how much.  tomorrow?  TOMORROW?  holy crap...tomorrow....

:+:

though he gave me constant shit for "only" spending 3.5 hours with him, i want my fellow Californian/photography teacher/pixies-loving/david lynch-appreciatin' comrade to know that i had fun, and though i'll be hurting tomorrow, i'm glad i took the time to rendezvous at tryst and felix. 

if it were ANYONE else who were visiting...i would've sent my regrets, expecting that they'd understand that when we made plans at 2pm, my life was still mine to waste.  by 6pm, my life was utterly different.  if it were ANYONE else who were visiting, i would've sorry'd profusely and been responsible-girl by choosing to stay home.  you know, so i could...oh, maybe get some SLEEP before my even BIGGER day? 

but no. 

it was you.  and so i will not sleep (and you will not understand or admit how special you are to me).

:+:

i burn for all my friends and loved ones, often to my detriment.  to the angel who led me to the most beautiful basilica i've ever known:  may you get your mojo back.  STAT.

:+:
.
.

july 10

1. -note to self: do NOT stay up to watch horrific terror flicks which start out as innocent-humourous-clumsy-dating movies...once the chainsaw comes out, it's too late to turn away and you WILL shiver in a corner, rocking back and forth while hugging yourself in some futile attempt to self-comfort...yeah.  i got NO sleep.  whenever i closed my eyes, i saw blood or heard the words, "relationships may end but PLASTINATION is FOREVER"  as the scene where the guy tries to embalm  a LIVE WOMAN replayed on an endless loop.  *shudder*  what.  an.  awful.  movie.  and you wonder why i don't watch scary films.  *SHUDDER*
2. - when i FINALLY fell asleep at 8am, this meant that i slept through my alarm and thus missed church. grrrrreat.
3. - after feeling massively guilty at 10:30am for aforementioned bullet-point, i went back to bed and slept like the...plastinated.  i woke up at 4pm.  sigh.  annnnd...there goes the weekend.
4. - noticing the sunshine outside, dracul-anna decides to make the best of a sinful sunday.  i went to dean and deluca in gtown for my morning cappuccino.  at 5pm.
5. - i buy my groceries every sunday at whole foods.  i love whole foods.  it's overflowing with organic products, it's totally wegetarian-oriented and it's filled-to-the-rim with brim AND hard-to-find specialty foods.  i am now learning, however, that if there is something that you LIKE at WF, you should hoard it b/c it won't always be in stock.  i.e. if i go weekly, my fave all-natural, trans-fat-free, gourmet cheddar and bleu cheese "uppity cheetos" will be there every third week.  mmmm, yeah.  not so helpful.   since i'm addicted and all.  today's MIA groceries? 

• spicy black bean dip. 
• rosemary sourdough bread. 
• green mountain extra hot salsa (the only one that doesn't rot or taste like shit after two days).

meh.

:+:

oh yeah.  one final little detail-- i have a HUGE interview tomorrow morning and you guessed it, i can't sleep.  AWESOME.  sepia mutiny benefits, thank goodness for that small mercy.

july 5 (updated)

i'm driving through ohio, on my way home from chicago, and this is the second rest area i've stopped at...now that i've seen this at two locations, as demonstrated by several people from ages 4-60 i think it's not anomalous.

do these people NOT have shoes?

they're nonchalantly walking in to the food court/bathrooms barefoot, then walking back to their cars through parking lots filled with broken glass, motor oil and lord knows what. 

like this is normal. 

i'm appalled.   stop and ponder what's on the average public bathroom floor, and you might be, too.

what else is odd or different to me... i've never seen so many american cars.

("duh.  we're not that far from detroit.")  no lie, there isn't a european car to be found.  the nicest car i could see was a toyota.  mind. blowing. y'all.  look, i know what kind of a pretentious twat i sould like, aight?  just come to the garage under my building and you won't hate me for this little epiphany, not after you swim through the sea of M3, Z3, S4, X5, SLK and AMG.  do keep in mind that i'm loyal to my sick little honda civic, no matter what.  i'll fall over from shock the day *i* get to buy something german.

beyond that, it's ridiculously interesting to note who goes where once inside the rest stop; most people head to the main area that contains all the fast food, plus cinnabon and one ever-changing regional restaurant...then there are the people who head to starbucks.  the friend i'm road tripping with is the one who brought it to my attention: the obvious socio-economic divide that seems to exist right in front of starbucks, like some invisible wall.  the people who breezily stroll right in are visibly more affluent, polished, maintained.  they're even wearing shoes.

this is so weird to me (well, not the shoes part)-- starbucks stopped being a big deal in my life about ten years ago, when my tiny college town of Davis got one on F st.  i mean, come ON.  they had to be everywhere if they were showing up in our six block "downtown".

july 4

1. i'm physically destroyed.  worse than that, i'm emotionally exhausted, after a very painful lunch that should've been the most fun event of this four-day extravaganza.  the first time the "youths" get to go out and i end up in the most uncomfy social sitch, EVER.
2. indian stores malayalee grocery stores in the chicago suburbs blow my fucking mind (and mom's, too, via the magic of pcs to pcs)  curry leaf plants?  to BUY?  bizarre snacks whose names i can't pronounce but usually only see after a suitcase has been cracked open?  to BUY?  not one, but TWO different brands of kaduku manga pickle?  to BUY?  that sound you heard was my brain exploding.  i thought texas was kerala.  i'm stupid.
3. when i wear a stellar outfit and feel (and am told i look) absolutely beautiful, contrary to past experience, that's no guarantee of a good day.  wait, same thing happened saturday.  hmm, maybe my super powers are nullified when in chicago.  ugh.
4. gujuratis and other vaguely northern indians ("i'm from delhi!) couldn't be more different.
5. barbecues on rainy days?  no.  not good.
6. well-made/homemade guacamole is a revelation that can make my shyness at being at a party full of absolute strangers disappear b/c i'm too busy stuffing my face to notice that i don't know anyone.
7. illegal fireworks are illegal for a reason.  YOWZA those things were obscenely dramatic. 
8. ten-year old girls who've orbited you cautiously for several days, taking care to never get too close, WILL jump right in your arms in the dark when the first fireworks go off.  this will feel utterly natural.  the amusing part comes later, when they email you thrice the next day, commencing each missive with "dear didi!"
9. even if you think you were far from where the fireworks were lit, that hazy, thick cloud of smoke that you see floating by is already well-ensconced in your lungs.  i feel like i was in the smokiest, dive-iest bar EVER last night...my throat is sore and i can't stop coughing.  ugh.
10. oh yeah, happy birthday amreeka.  and happy HALF BIRTHDAY to ME!

june 30

hmmm.  what did i do today?

- i dealt with bullshit from THREE DIFFERENT MEN.
- i freaked out over the last student loan to be consolidated.
- i fretted over how money can ruin precious things.
- i met Deepa for dinner, to forget all that shit.
- we went to Amma Wegetarian Cuisine in Georgetown.
- we had rasam, dosa, lassis and gulab jamuns (her) plus paysam (me).
- we went to tryst until we were smoked out, so she could study.
- i made a giant ASS out of myself at trsyt.  literally.  i'm too tired to explain.
- we went to amsterdam for frites, to cheer me after the tryst humiliation.
- we ran in to LISA!  aka /afterthoughts26 aka...my COUSIN.
- we got interrogated by two queens who helped themselves to our frites.
- we watched the drama unfold on a blog we mutually sweat.
- i dropped her off at school, then came home.
- i wrote this post for SM, thanks to a comment left here.

oh yeah.  and one other teensy, wholly unexpected thing as of 11:45pm.

i found out i'm flying to CHICAGO tomorrow! 

for the first time since HOkana 2002, i'll be in the middle of america (joy).  i'm totally excited, though.  Jankhu's engagement, here i come!

june 22

today i :

• couldn't wake up, no matter how hard i tried...so i didn't
• saw the first "ripple" in my legs from working out
  
• did some investigative reporting for SM
• talked to manish for 45"...no small feat, he hates phones
• walked from farragut west to adams morgan
• listened to live jazz at Tryst
• wrote a post for SM i liked
• talked to veena for 97 minutes
• walked from adams morgan BACK to downtown
• took the bus home at 1am for a whopping $1.35 b/c i was too cheap to spend $20 on a cab

june 20

FYI-  if you go to Chipotle today (the 21st only) and you buy a burrito, save your receipt-- you will get a free burrito the next time you go in (as long as you go in by the 26th).  apparently, mcdonalds is a big fan of the summer solstice, despite their cutesy (not) misspelling of it.  if you click that link, you'll also see an annoying man who does whichever dance move you choose (out of four possible).  fun!  or not, as my girl  polly would say.

:+:

i love "studying" with maisnon at tryst apres frites.  seriously, i do.  i'm thrilled that she gets stuff done while i enjoy her company.  she's one of my fave people these days.  even when she ends up getting us picked up by random white guys who are drunk and goofy.  my first shitty jello shot and i have her to thank for it. ;)  go colonials!

:+:

i'm watching (more like listening to) "My So-called Life".  it's on Noggin, a station i watch WAY more of than any of you ever expected b/c it plays Daria, and between Darias they'll throw in some random music video.  i hate teens and tweens.  they have 100x the shit i had when i was their age.  did i have noggin? a ridiculous array of stores to shop at in the mall?  marketing execs dying to lick my butt?  elle girl, teen vogue, cosmo girl and about ten others?  uh, no.  i had seventeen and sassy.  seventeen was NOTHING like it is now...'twas far more subdued.  sassy was awesome...but thinking about it just depresses me, b/c JANE will never be good enough to tie the white laces on sassy's ten-hole docs.

appropos of nothing:  wtF is kelly whatsherface wearing in the "behind these hazel contacts" video?  i'm referring to the american idol winner, just so you know.  when she's not havisham-ing it up in a weird white wedding gown, she's wearing some whore-ific body suit with CUT-OUTS.  with low-riders. 

ugh, ugh, ugh y'all.  a decade ago, when we first wore bodysuits, i remember how careful we were, ESPECIALLY if they were thongs in back...you didn't want anyone to see any hint of that, b/c that would be so slutty.  they were supposed to look like snug shirts that were tucked in your jeans or whatever.  now look what these young trollopes are doing.  bleh.  thanks for making me feel all curmudgeon-y, KELLY.

(a deluxe sort of) june 17

tonight at 9, i picked up maisnon and we decided to tryst.  lest you think she was shirking her barbri duties, rethink.  armed with barbri publications, a barbri pen and a barbri SWEATSHIRT (!) she was ready to bar-ty.  we got to tryst minutes after they shut off the wifi, but that ended up being a good thing; i polished and tumbled something i'd been working on a few days before.  had i access to the interweb, i'm sure i would've listlessly surfed and neglected creativity. 

tryst makes the most sublime cappuccinos.  i had three.  maisnon had spinach dip, i later ordered cheesecake (tryst makes the only cheesecake i'll eat-- i normally hate the stuff).  it was more of a courtesy vs hunger thing, since we were sitting there for a while.  during those dimly lit hours when we "studied" by candlelight ("hello, little cafe on the prairie!"), we both got stuff done, much to my immense satisfaction.  to my utter DISsatisfaction, i also got accosted by a jackass who opened with, "my friend and i were talking.  he thinks you're guyanese.  you guyanese?"

something snapped within and i went mute.  i looked balefully at D.  then i looked back at him.  it was deliciously awkward.  "where are you from?", he attempted again, slightly perplexed.  turning to D, i blurted out, "ennike avan'd english areethilla".  without missing a beat, my girl was all, "her english isn't very good."  he got mad skeptical but our fave barrister-to-be wouldn't back down.  "neither is mine" he shot back.  "well, she doesn't feel comfortable speaking it, that's that."  he got annoyed.  i just let wide eyes do all my talking.

he walked back to his jackass friend and they regarded me with derisive looks and said snide things.  i relished the opportunity for improv, really getting into my character of the shy foreigner who was fascinated by these odd little cookies shaped like animals that were garnishing my coffee saucer.  i chewed one thoughtfully, gazed off into space while considering how challenging it was to be here when i don't speak retard and then went back to typing on the i.

june 16

i just finished eating a beefsteak tomato, fresh basil and goatcheese sandwich on kalamata olive bread (from whole foods).  this is a marvel, b/c this sandwich almost didn't happen.  earlier today, i was mired on the couch after waking up late even though i really wanted to go to the penn quarter farmer's market in d.c.

since my attempts to go to BOTH the foggy bottom freshfarm market and the gtown version at rose park didn't work out yesterday, i was extra determined to hit at least ONE of them this week. i blame it on my sudden addiction to nectarines, but i've already posted about that, so i won't delve.

today's market was from 3-7pm.  despite knowing this, i couldn't fight the inertia that kept me here until 6pm, when i thought, "just put on jeans, don't even take your hair out of this ponytail and go-- if you leave now, you can get there for the last 15 mins of it...and that will probably prevent you from buying every fruit and veggie in sight".  win win?  win win.

i did arrive for the last few minutes and it was amazing.  while walking in the d.c. sun sans humidity near the national archives/penn quarter, i had berated myself for waiting so long to leave the house.  wandering about felt so good.  luckily, the market was still there. most people hadn't packed up yet, so i was able to pick up organic basil, tomato, fresh goat cheese (with herbs de provence) from a local cheesemaker and swiss chard (random...they just said it was a nutrient-rich superfood and since i'm sick of spinach, i was all, "fine".  i've never had it). 

i was startled when two different farmers threw in fresh dill and red bell peppers for free, as they were packing up my purchases.  i guess they were feeling generous since they were closing, which proves for the millionth time that regret is pointless, since my arriving late meant not paying for pretty yummy things.  i think i spent all of $13 (goatcheese = $5).  on the way back i went to barnes and noble for 90 mins and read stuff, including (appositely enough) "why french women don't get fat", in hon. of the goat cheese. 

i just got home 20 mins ago.  i can't emphasize this enough; it blows my mind that this basil and these tomatoes were picked today.  they have not been coated in pesticides.  they taste phenomenal.  this goat cheese, which is some of the best i've ever had, came from a local goat.  something about that last sentence makes me smile uncontrollably, possibly b/c i'm a goat.  i support my local/fellow goat.  do you?

june 2

still blue, but not as much as yesterday.  let's call me cerulean and call it a day.  little things like "iEatBrainz" HAVE to make you smile, you know? (thanks pottymaster)  yes, i'm new to mac, so any and all suggestions will be cherished.  especially when they change "track 12" to "no.13 baby" by the pixies.  that program is GENIUS.  and all b/c i posted a random screenshot of my iTunes playlist.  i shake my head at the unpredictable, whimsical way the world turns.

in other mac-related news, my laptop has its first sign of "aging".  much to my shock, i wore off half of the "E"; the image on the key now looks like the punctuation mark for the British pound.  w00t excessive typing!  i lurve this pretty white computing machine.  i noticed the worn key while at Cosi this evening, that was my big outting for the day. 

when i'm feeling like this, i have a proclivity for burrowing.  in my comforter or in my living room, it matters not.  i just want to dig in.   my dead cell phone totally encourages this; i stupidly left the AC charger in CA at mom's house.  all i'm left with is the car charger.  when am i ever in the car?  sigh.  i can't bring myself to buy a new AC and get taken advantage of by exorbitant prices, b/c Veena gets this shit for 75% off.  i feel like i'm getting ripped off just thinking about it.

i really hope i'm not returning to insomnia, but the fact that i'm typing this at 4am doesn't bode well for such wistful desires.  sigh.  cerulean.  i swear i'm cerulean.

june 1

i'm in one of those terrible, blah, in-between places where i don't want to write though i know it would be the best thing for me.  i don't like change and there's been a fair amount of it in the last five days. none of it feels like it is for the better, not at the moment at least.  yes, my powers of optimism astound us ALL, i assure you. 

now, more than ever, i wish i were still taking that zen mindfulness class, b/c i'm fully cognizant of how my resisting change is causing a bulk of my suffering.  that doesn't mean it's easy to fix.  sometimes, i darkly think, it's better NOT to know the why for things.  i'm just too stubborn, you know?  i don't like being at the mercy of other people, let alone the universe.  one of those preferring "to die on my feet vs live on my knees" sorts of things.  i blame my father, while understanding now more than ever before  the terrifying depth of his angst. 

no, it wasn't "music to commit suicide to" you cheeky comment-leaver, it was music to reflect how numb i get when nearly everything hurts. 

i can't even attend my own pity party b/c i don't feel like i have the right to be upset, not when there are children with flies crawling on their faces in africa or people getting beheaded in Iraq.  that's the best thing you can do to yourself when you're down-- invalidate your own feelings.  who taught me that attempting to be this stoic solves anything?

may 24

it's 4am and i'm up thanks to a reactivated ankle injury.  i knew i twisted it slightly this weekend, when i was at this farm and i lost my balance in an unpaved area, but i didn't realise i fucked it up this badly.  it bothered me all day at work, since there was no way to elevate it AND work at my computer simultaneously.  i knew i was in trouble when painkillers didn't really help. 

i got home at 7pm, laid down to rest and passed out from the ache, the same way i do when it's the time of the month for me to hiss at that curious bitch Eve for cursing womankind with a bloody punishment for her stupidity.  i woke up a few hours later and yes, it still hurt.  i can't put weight on it.  i can't walk on it without being all gimpy, though sometimes i can...i.e. it feels like P.E. all over again, when your teacher says to "walk it off".  i found myself walking down the hallways at work today, occasionally feeling better, almost moving normally...then out of nowhere, pain again.  i started to fret about seeing a doctor.  what if my 15-minute appointment took place in the exact anomalous window when the pain subsides?  gah. 

as if i can see a doctor.  yes, yes i have health insurance but i miss Kaiser something fierce.  you know, i was never anti-HMO.  i loved my HMO.  they made my mom well-off (she works for Kaiser) and they made my life EASY.  sick?  call.  done.  today, i tentatively called the 800 number associated with my current health plan, which is by no means inexpensive.  i told them my ankle hurt.  they asked me for a zip code.  once provided, they gave me a dizzying array of doctors "in (my) area".  when i asked how this even works, since i am wholly unfamiliar with it, the human chirped something about how she's not my provider, she's a middle-party and here's another 800 number to call to discuss coverage and costs.  oh, what i would give for the days of

• make an appt
• show up w/a $10 co-pay
• diagnosis
• leave. 

GAH.  who has the fucking energy for this shit?  and why is an ankle that was last seriously injured during the great soccer-playing summer of 2003 acting up so inconsiderately?

may 23

i've been meaning to answer this one:

What would you call the perfect banana?
Just ripe enough to peel easily? Or all soft and mushy?

the perfect banana is probably greener than most normal humans like it.  "just ripe enough to peel easily" is a surprisingly good way to describe it, but i feel like pointing out that i'm fine w/the ones that peel like fibrous tamales.  the big question is "spots"; are there any?  b/c if there are, HELL NO.  in fact, the ideal banana has no marks whatsoever blemishing its flawless yellowy outside.  it is pristine, it hasn't been jostled about in the bottom of my tote bag, nor has it been over-handled by some unknown fingers.  it's firm and not too sweet.  my mom says that my father had the exact same exacting standards for a banana.  she also said that i like the taste of banana sap, b/c that's what's present in the sort of banana i like, the ones with a tinge of green.  of course, my malayalam is sub-par, so don't hold my translation of "sap" against her.

when i peel a banana, it should be perfect from tip to toe.  not slightly brown and mushy at the top, no.  it should be uniform and solid, not too stringy.  and the last bite should separate from the peel effortlessly, with no degradation of texture.

manhattan is the best place in the world b/c you can buy everything you'd ever want on the street.  the fruit vendors always had bananas that resemble what i've described here, so i was never without.  the other reason why manhattan is awesome is b/c it's NOT a big, impersonal city.  it's a big, personal one.  my fruit guy got so used to me, i'd cruise right past him, picking up a prime specimen and leaving a quarter all in one fluid motion, w/o the need to break my stride or have him ackowledge the transaction with anything other than a knowing smile.

i had a suboptimal banana today.

may 13, the "peanuts and crackerjacks" edition

today:

• i exfoliated with cotton blossom salt scrub.
• wore the ancient polo denim shirt that got me through college, for the first time in at LEAST nine years.
• burned the brazilian girls CD (totally legit-- paid for it.)
• burned the Verve-remixed CD (ditto)
• burned Piracy funds Terrorism Vol. 1 by MIA/diplo (totally free)
• decided that mike is right, LCD Soundsystem is hot.
• ate a perfect banana.
• read the nypost "mudslide edition!"
• drank nestle quik chocolate milk, in honour of my faaaave cousin, who called me at 1am (it's our thing...choc milk, that is)
• shook my butt while in the car, at a light, to MIA over the Neptunes.
• showered AGAIN to "reboot" my day, since no outfit or hairstyle felt right
• found "right" in navy lacoste, chip+pepper, nike trail runners...and a tartan-ribbon-trimmed PONYTAIL!
• tried and adored new Loreal eyeshadow quad, which was free at Ulta, since i bought any Loreal mascara  (w00t!)
• WENT TO MY FIRST NATIONALS GAME!
• WENT TO MY FIRST GAME AT RFK STADIUM, PERIOD!
• sat in primo, fly-ball territory in sweeeeeet seats.
• bought a guy two beers but said, "you best be puttin' out tonight, BITCH" while the old man who took my money howled with hysterics (it was my janani moment, what can i say...i read her today)
• became a nervous wreck when washington looked like they MIGHT beat the cubs after all...
• got home earlier b/c i convinced my party to take the metro in the wrong direction, so we could get off one stop away and get back ON the train going in our direction, right before it stopped at the stadium where a few thousand people were waiting.
• had the awesome, all-american night you just read about, b/c i stayed totally in the moment and wouldn't let my friends give up, even after the people who had their tickets stiffed them.  i didn't go all that way on the orange line to NOT see some baseball.  scalpers have a purpose, too.  shhhh. ;)

:+:

tomorrow: late lunch in delaware, dinner in north jersey.  no philly at all, it seems.  :(

may 3, poopy-coloured, b/c i sorta feel like crap

i don't want to come back to dc tonight on the red-eye.  :(

as much as i have fun with my esteemed legal counsel and...hmmm.  geez, do i really only have ONE friend who lives within 10 minutes of me?  no wonder i don't want to leave. 

my room was redone in my absence, and it's awesome.  i WANT to spend time sleeping in it.  my dog won't be around forever-- her age is showing so dramatically, i am actively courting denial as a coping mechanism for the fact that she has two years left, tops.  the kitchen was renovated WHILE i was here, so i feel a bit cheated...now that it's gorgeous and porcelain-y with the most unique granite i've ever seen...i get to not eat in it, b/c i'm leaving the day the floor is safe to walk on.  whine whine whine. 

i knew i missed my mom, i've written about it from time to time, but i didn't realise i missed her this much.  suddenly i'm paranoid and fretful about her health.  i think seeing my dog's decline reminds me that the two are now almost the same age (55 and 60, respectively) and i find myself darkly wondering how many years i have left with my remaining parent.  i went to costco with her, put the 50lb dog food  bag (again-- for MY DOG, which i left with her) and the ridicu-heavy case of water in her cart...and i incredulously asked her, "what do you do when i'm not here??"  you see, her back is SHOT.  "um, i flutter eyelashes?"  she smiled gamely at me.

"does that work for you?" 

"sure...but the real problem is when i get to the parking lot and later, when i get home.  no eyelashes can help me then.  it's okay.  i try not to do it to often...i just make sure i have plenty of motrin handy."

gawd, the amount of guilt that is flooding my system.

every other week, when she makes her costco run, she opens the case of crystal geyser in the car, moving four or five bottles at a time until all the bottles are in the house.  as for the dog food, she heaves it out of my civic's trunk and then drags it in the garage, praying earnestly that the bag won't break.

yeah.  i am now officially the WORST DAUGHTER IN THE FUCKING WORLD.

the coasts are too far apart.  it's that simple.  it was one thing when i lived in SF...i was only 90 minutes away (75 mins, the way i drive).  i came home on the weekends.  now, i come home every eight months.  when i consider that if i'm lucky, i'll fly  home twice this year, my mind is blown.  where does the time go?  it's already may of 2005.  the next time i'm back here, the year will already be waning.  i feel like life is careening recklessly through the extreme left lane, while i desperately wish that it were going slower.  my days in DC are a haze of work, gym, blog.  mondays suddenly become fridays.  weeks dissolve quickly into months and suddenly it's been the better part of a year since i last hugged my aunt and uncle in person, since i annoyed my dog or my mom.

do kids who aren't asian/jewish/ethnic even think like this?  gah.

i didn't mean to sound so negative, i promise you that.  i'm not unhappy by any stretch.  my time here has been so blissed out...meeting brimful at my most beloved caffe EVER nearly made me swoon with joy.  seeing LS for the first time since august of last year compounded that.  meeting my "newest friendster" turned into one of the most unexpectedly magical nights i've had in forever.  i'm about to drive to eileen perfume's office in pleasant hill, for lunch with my longest-serving best friend.  it's paradoxical, precisely b/c i've had such an extraordinary time, i'm anxious and despondent.  this makes me self-loathe just a wee bit, b/c i'm like, "can't i EVER be happy w/what the universe kindly gives undeserving me?" 

omg, i need a xanax.  or a martini.  or both.  paging karen walker, i wanna be sedated.  :{

may 1 (updated, after the jump)

random thoughts that deserve elaboration:

brimful-
-is from the least brown state besides alaska  ;)
-is defiantly single
-is even AWESOMEr in person

livin' simple is doing well and i wouldn't stop hugging her.  she's been squeezed like charmin.

my newest friendster is a doll.  MIT engineers are deelish.  ;)

spending the evening doing a nytimes crossword puzzle with smarter people than me = bliss.

greco remembered me!  :)

my erstwhile favourite radio station is BACK!!!!

ugh, i reek of smoke from sitting outside amid the cancer-cravers.  it's 1am and i NEED to get home...i'm loathe to leave the wifi though, since i'm worried i won't be able to post when i get home to shite dial-up.

sigh.

pragmatism wins.  more later on my fabulous day...i have 75 minutes of driving to do...

april 30

i'm having an even better time in CA than i expected.  it's lovely to be home, to have an aristocratic canine beauty watching over me from her typical perch in her dogloo, to have kappipalla twice a day with the woman who knows me best.  the sick civic drives like it's january of 2002 (read: new).  my manicurist remembered me after eight months of being away; during the pedicure i got yesterday, i almost swooned into a faint.  they UPGRADED their "spa" routine to include a hot stone massage after a paraffin wax dip.  good lord, that is HEAVEN.  did i mention it cost a whopping THIRTY DOLLARS?  do you know what i get for thirty dollars in DC?  66% of a pedicure that includes none of the features i mentioned;  in fact, 3000 miles to the right, the process is also without b/c it lacks creative nail design products and a massage chair that pummels you like a dour swedish matron.  ahhhh, it's good to be home, where toes are taken SERIOUSLY.   :)

i can't believe my trip is half over.  i can't believe that i haven't gone to SF or berkeley yet.  i can't believe that i don't have stable net access from home.  :(  i'm typing this from a mac-friendly indie coffee place that thoughtfully offers free wifi AND excellent capps that cost all of $2.50.   unfortunately, fotolog is one unbelievable piece of shit, or you'd see pictures of some of this...

i have to go.  moms just called; she needs me at home.  sigh.  it's 7pm and i have about three hours to go to the BEST GYM EVER, get my nails done (they wouldn't let me do them simultaneously w/the pedi yesterday, since it would "distract and ruin the experience [!]")  wash and blow-out hair with janani's fave aveda product, get dressed and get to church for the midnight easter service.  if i'm too wired to sleep, i'll try to log on to mom's horrid AOL connection at home (dial-up...shudder).  but i really *should* rest-- i have to be cute and perky in SF for office hours.

brimful?  that means you.   :)

christos anesti, y'all.  that's greek for "Christ is risen", it's what we say to each other at easter.  :)

april 26

random thoughts from when i was in the car, on the way home:

- am i the only one who was taught that at a four-way-stop, if two cars arrive at the same time, one should yield to the car on the RIGHT? 

-i am unbelievably scatterbrained right now.  i'm forgetting everything, including very important things, like the security badge that gets me in my building for work.  i think the shock of finally being near my dog after eight months away is just obliterating my grey matter.

-i agree with my carpool, who was just cut off by ANOTHER m3, in asking "why?".  i always say go high or low.  while my ride muttered, "i'd rather buy two cars" i blurted out, "i'd rather buy a used porsche".  (for the record, the "two cars" would be one honda civic for the brutality of dc traffic/potholes and one venerable, double-take-inducing oddity like an old lotus or similar.  i just asked for specifics, that's what i was told.)  sigh.  20 hours until i drive MY beloved civic, for the first time since last fall.

-i haven't even started packing yet.  ugh ugh ugh.  like i told squirrel last night when i serendipitously met her at cosi, no, i am not interested in moving to one of the other, newer, taller, posher buildings.  this would require that i MOVE.  and PACK.  ugh.

:+:

nope, still not packed.  am kind of weirded out that i'm going home. 

it's just been so long.  also, am not used to going to work WITH my suitcases, with the plan of rushing to airport the minute i'm done for the day.  the thought of doing this makes me the teensiest bit queasy.   no room for errors.  i usually take the day off when i'm flying.  well, upon reflection, i usually fly at some random middle-of-the-day time...this is one of the only instances where i'm getting on a plane at 8:30 pm, so that explains why i didn't HAVE to take the day off...

march 23

1)  fotolog sucks pornstar dick. 

2)  my allergies are tormenting me.

3)  side affects from allegra for aforementioned allergies = bad.

4)  i ruined my new boots from nordstrom in today's downpour.

5)  they botched my burrito at chipotle by breaking the original tortilla, then dumping out contents into a NEW tortilla, but that meant losing the cheese, which is the only reason i eat the damned things in the first place.  to compensate, they added four times the guacamole a burrito should receive.   i HATE guacamole.

6)  my sister is home with my mom and dog, and i haven't been home since september-- i miss all three of them.

7)  i feel like i'm growing farther apart from my two west-coast best friends.

8)  did i mention that i don't have an east coast best gf?

9)  manhattan mini-storage botched my billing due to their own ineptitude, but won't waive the late fee they're assessing because of that.

10) there aren't enough hours in the day for everything i want to clean, create and write.  sigh.

despite all of that, it was a good day.  great outfit, perfect hair, wayyy better than average makeup job that took less than five minutes, loads of fun with my boss at work, two-hour lunch (traffic) that i didn't get busted for, shopping at TWO malls and the right coast's loveliest white hot chocolate.  AND i got asked to be in some salon's tv commercial. 

AND the sales guy at May company took 60% off my purchase "just because".

AND three different people i adore told me they loved me.

:+:

when i write it all out like that, i feel like the good obliterates the bad...which makes me wonder at my current, excessively neutral mood.  shouldn't i be happier?  and NOT indifferent/calm? 

i think it's the allergies...and the exhaustion they are gifting me with, day after day.  i know i'd be more grateful and quietly blissed than this, if my eyes weren't throbbing, my nose wasn't runny, my sneezes werent' throwing me into inanimate objects and my damned meds didn't destroy my nascent, necessary, sought-after sleeping abilities.  sigh.

i will focus on "the good" until i fall asleep.

"good" night.

march 17

i'm okay.  really, i am.  i want to state that before i type anything else, b/c i know a few of you are uber-concerned.  while i was a sopping mess a few days ago (for damned good reason), i find that i'm at a calmer place now.  take some credit, why don't you...a good deal of that calm came from you.  :)

when everything else in your world is a bit off, there is always the mall.  in my case, there is tyson's, the "best" mall in this area.  bloomingdale's, versace, tiffany's etc.  i didn't hit any of those spots; i kept it immediate.  at 6pm, i entered via nordstrom, at the "brass plum" entrance, and i bought a purse and jewelry right there.  just outside of nordy's, an enorme white hot chocolate to fortify me for my journey.  directly behind the quaint little "island" cafe, aveda.  since the entire purpose of my voyage was for specialised haircare, it seemed a no-brainer.  i tried not to let the salesgirl annoy the shit out of me as she lectured me on what my hair is "really like", b/c after all, she's cared for it, right?  twat.  i bought "hang straight", a new paddle brush made from recycled mongolian twigs and some tonic...thing.  i SHOULD have bought my old-skool purefume brilliant hair pomade...i tested a little bit out on my ends, looked at the $20 price tag twice and then decided against.  eight hours later, i'm in aromatherapy heaven from the scent, and cursing my stupidity.  tomorrow.  there is always tomorrow.

i couldn't bear to give the aveda-whore all of my business, so i reluctantly took my quest for conditioner elsewhere.  i ended up spending $20 on THAT without blinking, which makes my parsimonious nature at aveda seem pointless.  what else...i bought one of those excessively whimsical primal elements soaps that is hand-made and smells like nirvana.  of course i got the one with the wee little fishy in it.  "ginger fish".  smell it and then die of bliss.  you've been warned.  at the register, primal lip glosses...

if it's one thing i do NOT need, it's more lip goo.  i buy lipgloss weekly...have been doing so since 1999.  go on, calculate.  here, i'll help: i've only depleted two tubes.  yeeeeeah.  still, i HAD to try a new brand.  couldn't bring myself to a decision betwixt two of the ten shades...so i literally said, "fuck it.  both."  as the salesgirl smirked sympathetically.  "i have seven," she said, not that it ameliorated my feelings about the whole affair.

what's our tally?  $170.  right.

think that's enough damage for one day?  ha.  dilettante.

i saved the best for last.  yuppie grocery store.  yeeeeeah, bitches.  90 minutes and a full benjamin spent on...three bags of things.  and that was AFTER i used my cute little "very important customer" card, that dangles constantly from my keychain.  i think the reason i go...okay, HALF the reason i go to this joint is for the self-checkout.  today was FANTASTIC.  i bought PRODUCE.  this means that there was no UPC code to scan via infra-red...no, i had to enter a special pricing code and then weigh my two flawless bananas.  i think i chortled as i did it.  when it came time to price my 0.58 lbs of booty from the olive bar, my glee overraneth.  i got home at 9:25, too late to watch must-see anything. 

five olives and a quarter of an artisanal batard later, i popped open the red zin (90 pts wine spectator), frowned at the shit-tay cork and then sighed.  time to actually accomplish something.  all play at pay and no chores makes anna paris hilton.  so, i did what i've been putting off for a week; i cleaned all FIVE of my betta tanks.  FUN.  do you know what fish poo smells like?  it's sharp, not as awful as diaper, but nothing i want to marinate in, na'mean?  no matter, it's done.  my fish can defecate all over their clean tanks happily, while i feel slightly more than useless. 

i shaved my legs in the shower apres-fish mongering.  i might just get a pedicure tomorrow, and i swear the woman gives longer foot messages if you're all landscaped and shit.  we shall see...

march 16 (version three, at this point)

• otherwise well-meaning emails from people i've never met--but have had two AIM convos with--that state, "you haven't posted much on sepia mutiny or HERstory lately...you must be too busy being a social butterfly...or maybe you've run out of relevant things to say?" are not needed.  and you all wonder why i'm suddenly angsty over the writing.  no pressure.  no, none. dear insensitive douchebag, kindly fuck off, since you don't know what you're babbling about, thanks...
• speaking of blogs, i finally fixed the flawed code in a certain sidebar.  one thing on "to-do" list down, seven-million to go.
• i've had a migraine for almost twelve hours.  otherwise (read: emotionally) i'm fine, seriously.  btw, i should have KNOWN today would be full of torment-- i woke up with the most violent case of the hiccups this morning.  what an omen, eh?  who wakes up with HICCUPS?  sheesh.
• "sangam"= terrible indian restaurant in VA.  i should get a refund on those calories.  yet another reason to miss nyc...sigh.
• thanks to SJM, i now have my very own blogger code:

B7 d+ t- k+ s++ u+ f+ i++ o++ x+ e++ l++ c

one of these days, when i actually design my about page properly, i'll put it there. 

p.s. to the kind sir who sent me the "baby beyonce" clip in case i "needed it"-- thank you.  i owe you one two.  i'm going to dwell on such sweetness as i go to a twitchy, pained sleep.

march 14

number of kleenex crumpled:  34

number of migraine-painkillers popped for cluster headache: one

number of AIM conversations: five

number of HEALTHY AIM conversations: one

number of RSVPs to saturday's writing workshop: zero

cost of tentative workshop space: $100 (+$300 deposit)

number of times i snuffled, "i just want to go home": three

number of hours of sleep i might get tonight: five

cost of missing work due to cluster(fuck) ache: $$$

cost of spiteful flight home to kind dog and old bed: $635

number of posts on SM today: 0

number of posts on much-neglected /closet: one

number of cute pictures uploaded to fotolog: one

number of times i considered quitting writing due to feedback: one

number of times i mournfully agreed with dooce about unsolicited feedback:  one

number of times i wondered if anyone cares: two

number of times friendster profile has been looked at this month: 388

number of times it was looked at last month: 1201

number of times that should matter: -1

number of fish who are staring at me with worry: five

number of eyelashes i've ripped out from furious rubbing: three

(average) number of hits for this strange little blog: 206

number of years i will spend as a cold spinster: 80

number of mallu girls over age 27 who aren't married on Fster: 3

number of times i fretted about item before last: 0

number of times i sighed with resignation at it: one

number of times i talked to my precious little sister today: two

number of times i just wanted my daddy to come back: infinite.

march 10 version 3

if you're going to SAJA on saturday, get in touch with me-- i'll let you know where you will be eating dinner.  presumptuous?  maybe.  but i'm pretty sure you want to hang with the cool kids, so i'll take that risk. ;)

i'm going to the conference ON saturday and i'm not staying in nyc,  so dinner is all i'll be around for-- i'll be leaving the city by 8ish or so.  that means you can still do whatever the hell you want on a saturday night in new york city.  i want to eat with you: not hold your hair, pretend to be your dyke gf to scare off assholes or guard your drink from roofies. 

anyway, i'd love to meet you, so holler at your girl.  late.  audi s4.  whatever.

:+:

2005 will go down as the year where i spent more days with a cold, flu or, oh, pneumonia than any other.  i am a walking wet kleenex.  yum!  now you TOTALLY want to meet me, eh?

:+:

i think that scene from the upcoming television series "grey's anatomy" (ugh ugh ugh) where the dork-wad says, "who here has no clue what they're doing?" and they all predictably raise their hands while a far-too-cool-for-such-a-tard-show song hums along...is lame.  predictable. 

stupid. 

unnecessary, really.  it makes me want to backhand someone or something.  pray i don't see that advert in new york on saturday.  ;)

:+:

i almost never catch those glossy, faux-news, network shows that clutter the money hours of night, but right now i'm watching primetime live and temple grandin is on...if you don't know who she is, you are without.  she's amazing and she's changed your world (though you don't know it).  i can't think of another person who is liked by both animal rights activists AND cattle ranchers.  more than that, she's proven that children whom others would tell you to give up on can (and do) achieve greatness.  the world is a more humane place because of a freak with a disease who used her "burden" to our benefit.  just mind-blowing.

p.s.  thanks "uncle" for introducing ME to TG.  :)

march 3

it's official-- i love TBJ. 

:+:

three more people RSVP'd to the writing workshop i'm hosting on saturday afternoon, in sin's beloved Dupont. 

obviously i need to do a better job of convincing deepa and jtmoney that they should come.  writing well is a key skill for lawyers, ladies. ;)

:+:

how did a week flyyyyyyyyyy by?  and why didn't i get to make rosemary-garlic, roasted red potato bliss?  my bougie, over-priced, whole foods ingredients rot slowly in the fridge.  this makes me cringe.  i love my job, but i miss cooking.  didn't realise i was having so much fun with it...though upon reflection, it was a fantastic creative outlet.

:+:

weekends are saturated, too. 

• kahani/writing on saturday
• baby shower on sunday...
• then next weekend, i'm in NYC! 

every few hours, i've taken to shaking my head as if to clear some mental etch-a-sketch.  as the grey matter whirls hypnotic, life embroiders my reality silently while i ignore such developments. i'm so in my dome.  there is snow on the ground, with flowers poking through.  the sky was so bright today that i had to dig out the big guns (read: chanel).  the pound cake i just tasted reminded me of the pound cake i craved as a five-year old. 

in that final, critical moment before each opportunity is lost, i feel my eyes widen and my head clear for a nanosecond, as i immerse in what is.  and that's why i can write about it now, vs stepping over it, ignoring it or mindlessly chewing it...every day, i get closer to getting that crucial skill right.

march 2

sigh.

2am.  i can't sleep.  hope i'm not getting sick again, even though i have that wretched, terrifying tingle in the back of my throat.  the two people i interact with most at work are both ill.  sigh sigh sigh.

at least my fish is still alive.  i'll focus on the positive, like we're all meant to do...(unless we write for blunt instrument, that is.)

:+:

remainders (the parenthetical edition)

• feeling ugly, my pretties?  go here and mouse over her.  there, all better, no?  if you've had your morning coffee, try THIS one.  oy, that's frightening.  women need to stop putting unnecessary pressure on themselves...don't believe the glossy hype.  (if i knew any teens, i'd totally send this to them)
  
• greatest 404 page EVER--turn on your speakers and make sure you watch 'til le very end (getting frustrated at not finding sum'n never felt so gooood)
  
• if any of you signed up for that weird-assed vonage that irritates me so (sorry, i haven't had a home phone since 1999), please, please, please make sure you can dial 911 for help-- i may dislike vonage, but you shouldn't get hurt b/c of it...

Internet phone service customers in Houston learned the hard way that 911 is not activated by default for Vonage internet phone service.

Seventeen-year-old Joyce John frantically tried to place a 911 call twice from her family’s Vonage phones while her parents struggled with armed robbers in their home. The adults were shot but survived. The teenager called an ambulance from a neighbor’s phone.

Vonage provides basic 911 service but it’s up to the customer to activate it. If you’re a VoIP customer, do yourself a favor: make sure 911 works from your phone. 

:+:

i'll advertise it until one of you fothermuckers RSVP's-- Kahani, the south asian fiction writer's workshop i'm now mixed up with is having a petit, how you say, get together.  saturday.  dupont.  1-3pm.  don't you fucking lie and state "writing" under your friendster interests/in your blogger profile, if you aren't going to be there, slogging away through exercises with the rest of us dedicated scribes.  seriously.  miss menon?  JTMoney?  squirrel??  unless you're out of town...you best sit yer ass down. ;)

and another thing, wtf can't brown people RSVP?  it's not like it COSTS anything. 

worry not, i'll carry my snippy ass to bedfordshire now...

.february 15

today i:

-found out that homo-phobe alan keyes has a lesbian daughter who is also somewhat liberal.  oh joy.  oh hilarious karma.  oh glee.  people who live in glass houses should get to know their OWN daughters.

-had an asthma attack from a dust storm (of sorts).  sigh.

-spent my lunch buying new black boots at nordstrom.  didn't cheer me up, though.  (danger, will robinson!)

-made quesadillas in my awe-inspiring new quesadilla/panini/wafflemaker...yummmmm.

-got my first pedicure in FIVE MONTHS.  got my first regular manicure, too.  yay for primping.  now THAT cheered me.

-got mad that people hurt animals before they sell them for research purposes, that they have "class D" licenses to do it, that they get these animals by stealing them out of people's yards...oh darling Rani, i shall give you the biggest hug EVER when i get home.  don't ever stray when monsters like this are loose.  :(

-randomly ate 2.5 kiwis and a quivering, shivering square of lemon jello (woo-hoo korean delis!)

-renewed my awe at G-d's unbelievable miracles

-realised that i've come a long way, baby.  :)

february 13

last thing i ate:  red-icing-laden valentine's day cupcake, w/sprinkles

now blaring:  "dig for fire" by the PIXIES

:+:

i'm irritated at the morons who are denying me my flog.  grrr.

:+:

from the old grey lady:

"So far, only the most health conscious consumers are shopping to avoid trans fat. But food companies are betting that will change when the labeling law takes effect, and they have already spent tens of millions of dollars trying to get rid of trans fat without changing the taste of America's favorite processed and fast foods.

...At least 30,000 and as many as 100,000 cardiac deaths a year in the United States could be prevented if people replaced trans fat with healthier nonhydrogenated polyunsaturated or monounsaturated oils, according to a 1999 joint report by researchers at the Harvard School of Public Health and the Brigham and Women's Hospital in Boston."

uh...i guess i'm excessively health conscious, then.  i totally scrutinize for trans-fat content.  i'm blown away by the "death" statistic.  what a stupid reason to die.  die b/c you totaled your porsche, not b/c you couldn't live without the partially hydrogenated, toxic goo in your oreos or donuts.  blech.

february 8

i'm getting better, if only because all of you have affected me with your concern and good wishes.  it's a delightful way to feel, especially when compared to my usual wheezing, soreness, disassociative chilled/feverish state...thank you.  :)

i felt well enough to go to work today, but once there i trudged around and cringed and coughed a lot.  appetizing!

anyway, it's 1am and i need to go to bed.  i got a lot of errands done this evening, after taking care of my poor roomie (who is now sick-- what a shocker!).  alas, i didn't get to write the blog post of vengeance that i so want to...even as i found three articles and a music video that fueled my fire.   haven't posted on SM recently, either.  sigh.   my fears have come true; working full-time makes me much less of a writer.  :( 

i'll leave you with random notes i took while watching our girl on letterman.  i was blogging aishwarya's appearance in real time, so enjoy.

aish is holding her own.  she's made him squirm once or twice-- well played. 

ooooh, here comes the clip of "Bride and Prejudice"...ah, they picked a much-cited snippet...sadly, i can see where my friend's criticisms are applicable, even though i've seen less than 200 seconds...

letterman's stumbling like elmer fudd.

she's delightful-- just snarky enough. when he tries to carry her for being an "older child" living at home with her family, she retorts, "we don't have to make appointments to have dinner with our parents". 

oh, i'm not doing the moment justice.  slightly flustered, he turns to the audience and transforms the moment through quick thinking; "i think we've all learned something here."

she looks beautiful, though i'm not crazy about her outfit.

all in all, ten times better than her shrill discomfort on her 60 minutes appearance...

anyone else see it?

february 7 (the wahhh edition)

i feel miserable because:

- bronchitis became pneumonia

- i haven't fulfilled my evolutionary purpose for this month, and it hurts

- i didn't get to see MIA with manish in new york this weekend

- i haven't been well enough to blog a follow-up to the hot97 fiasco, when i desperately want to, and people are asking me, "wtf?"

- i can't breathe without the assistance of two different inhalers

- i have to clean everything to flawless-levels by friday, on no energy

- i'm a consummate space cadet from weeks of drugs, some of which i'm allergic to (# $?%& cipro!)

- i can't sleep

- all of the damned above.

p.s. did i mention that missing work today makes me even more stressed?  :(

january 30

EFA:   yes
GYM: uh, bronchitis

WHAT I WORE:  pyjamas
I 'MELL LIKE:  antibiotics.  yum!  :p

NOW LISTENING TO:  bis
NOW READING:  the JANE mag w/paris on the cover

CURSED:  yeah
TT M/V?: yeah.  m.

LAST THING GOOGLED:  bronchitis/walking pneumonia

:+::+::+::+::+::+::+::+::+::+::+::+::+::+::+::+::+::+::

uh, yeah. i'm still sick, if not sicker.  started taking noxious antibiotics today;  it hurts to breathe, my cough makes children and other small mammals run away from me shrieking...and i'm exhausted.  eight hours of sleep seems paltry to feeble me.

still, i'm kind of looking forward to work, and that says something kinda huge, doesn't it?  :) 

p.s.  there's a new fotolog with pix of my cousins, but i'm too tired to link to it.  :p

p.p.s.  am TOTALLY addicted to playing blogshares.  is there a patch or a 12-step group for that??

january 24

note to self: no posting to fotolog guestbooks when emotional.  if you do this, A N N A, people will just treat you like the freak you are. 

the stupidest aspect of this is, the whole REASON i was looking at this particular fotolog was to get my mind off something that i got in the mail.  i received a very special package today which made me choke up.  it's nothing serious, so please don't feel the need to be alarmed, it was just something i wasn't expecting to see, that had to do with family.  i was surprised by the sorrow i felt when reading.  i now know that i saw everything through that filter.

i wish there was a delete button on fotolog, for the comments that *i* leave when i'm out of my head.  how 'bout THAT for a gold camera feature?  i pay to undo the potential damage i've wrought.

i didn't realise how sad and lonely i felt until i saw my words in her comment box reflecting those emotions back at me.  something mundane that she described made me come undone.

upon reflection, i should've expected that what i was reading would affect me profoundly.  she was discussing a milestone that i don't know that i'll reach. 

i never believed people when they said that writing helps them clarify or understand things, but it's true.  writing this post deciphered the emotional code that couldn't be cracked.  i'm exhausted and falling asleep as i type this, but i'm grateful that i stuck with it.  an hour ago, i was furiously folding clothes, spiraling down a path of self-conscious loathing, feeling stupid and exposed.

at least now i'll sleep.

the alternative (parsing the potential meanings of words and punctuation) is neither something i can afford nor bear.

sigh.  i can't wait to go back to work tomorrow...twee and snow, twee and snow.

january 10

i had to leave work early today, because i'm sick.  bleagh.  i'm going to bed, which is where i've spent most of the afternoon and evening.  mmm, bed.  yummy.

it's not all terrible, though.

even as i punctuated that first sentence, i realised that i'm grateful. 

i'm thrilled that i can write words like, "i have a job".  i'm thrilled that i like what i do enough to think i'm missing out on something by being sick.  so, i may feel like i've been hit by a truck, but that doesn't affect the level of appreciation i'm basking in at this moment, and that is a very good thing. 

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

right.  off to bed before i short-circuit the laptop with drool.

january 6

NEW POSTS:  sepia mutiny, herstory

EFA:   no
GYM: no

WHAT I WORE:  black cashmere crew, calvin klein cargo pants
I 'MELL LIKE:  spearmint, eucalyptus, blistex

NOW LISTENING TO:  modest mouse
NOW READING:  i work now.

CURSED:  no.
TT M/V?: no.

LAST THING GOOGLED:  dotbusters for SM post :(

::+::+::+::+::+::+::+::+::+::+::+::+::+::+::+::+::+::+::+::+

new

fotolog

with

pictures

from my

new year's eve

in

DC,

here.

january 2

THREE new Sepia Mutinies:

• it's possible; there is good news about the tsunami
• this one is a little more tech-y
• and finally, a post that's sort of funny.

they're all in a row, so you can read them all at once, oh-people-who-whine-that-my-posts-on-SM-are-too-hard-to-read/find.

anyway.

this time of year is never pleasant for me, and that's partially why i've been away.  i always feel so conflicted when i start to enjoy the holiday, b/c then i remember what happened six years ago and the grief washes over me anew.  i know, i know.  he'd want me to be happy.  makes no difference.  i still burn.

:+:

they extended the deadline for voting in the Asia Blog Awards.  i have no clue why they've chosen to arbitrarily do so, and thus end it on my birthday.  anyway, if you are a kind, loving person with an index finger o' gold, click here and vote for me today and tomorrow (jan 4th is the last day).  you can vote once daily.  and make sure you vote for Sin while you're at it.  he's such a better blogger than me.

i would've had this licked last week if i had been 'mart enough to think of putting the voting link in my AIM profile; ever since i did that two days ago, my numbers have improved dramatically.  oy, me addled brain, and the things she doesn't do.

:+:

tomorrow, january 3, 2004, is the start of something hu-uge.  so huge i'm too superstitious to write about it.  just keep me in your prayers like you seem to have been doing, pretty please?  you are all glittery, magical, fantastic people.  i feel the love.  it lifted me up and bore me along to the aforementioned milestone/date.  oh, i'll tell you all what i'm blathering about soon, i PROMISE.

:+:

proving my theory that nothing ever goes perfectly, i now have a cold.  just a wee one.  more of a sore throat, leaden-body thing.  took nighttime, makes-you-drowsy-so-you-sleep Comtrex at around 8pm, four hours ago.  hasn't done a damn thing wrt inducing ZZZZZs.  sigh.  it's always something, innit?  i have this amazing throat-cote tea and more pills for the day.  i'll be fine.  make sure you are too, please minnows?

december 15

new HERstory

new WIMP

i went to the gym and did intervals and abs.   

i voted for myself and dear Sin (Best Pakistani blog- Venial Sin) in this latest blog award thing. 

i ate way too much toast. 

i also ate way too many chocolates out of my box of See's candy. 

i had a horrific tablespoon of flaxseed oil + EFA goo to atone for it.

i vacuumed, like a good girl. 

i folded, like a good girl. 

i ironed, like a good girl.

i stayed  (mostly) positive...like a good girl.

.

<whine> i'm ready to GO.  i think i always get like this at the end of the year...itchy.  scratchy.  bristling.  ready to break out...sadly, my fotolog title, "stuck in a holding pattern" still fits.    /end whine>   ;)

p.s.  thanks for the avalanche of sweet comments.  they make all the difference in the world.  i know i'm lucky, b/c i can open up completely to you, and you understand.  i think i'll focus on THAT...

december 13

no, nothing definite to tell you all yet.  sorry.

if YOU feel frustrated with that sentence, just imagine how the reality of it feels for ME.  gah.

.

new post on closet.  i'm serious.  go look at the newest thing i acquired, and try not to be too snarky.  ;)

.

SATC season one is SO MUCH BETTER than season six.  no contest.  my cable company put all twelve eps on "demand" via HBO, and i am tickled!  i haven't seen ANY of the first season, so i love that i'm starting to watch it from the beginning...

speaking of, i think i watched all of six episodes total when they originally aired...don't ask me which season, i don't remember.  this is just me.  i never watched a single ep of "Seinfeld" when it was actually a real/network show...i've only seen it in syndication.  i'm weird like this.

tomorrow, i want to go to BN and finish reading orson scott card's "rachel and leah".  i'm hooked (upon reflection, it's probably just "red tent" w/d).

december 11

thank you to everyone who voted for my blog! that's INSANE...i got like FIFTY votes in a DAY. like, whoa. seriously. i have no words to describe my rxn to your loyal efficiency.

THANK YOU

.

so i have three posts in the pipeline...i know they'd flow RIGHT OUT if i let myself have a good cab or pinot noir...damn my giving up alcohol for december. gah! ;)

.

humility, courtesy of a furry blogger:

.

newish flog:

.

news? you are allowed to be cautiously optimistic...and i loathe even typing such instruction, b/c i'm so paranoid i wore this AND my eyeleen ayurvedic eye goo* today.

*you so know what this is. don't play with me. how many thirty-year old pics of naked indian babies lying on their tummies sporting a permanently astonished expression do you need to see before you realise that they're ALL wearing more eyeliner than a pre-pubescent evanescence fan? it's not like their hyper-cautious moms were breaking out le grand kohl, by l'oreal...that cleopatra-esque crap came out of a flat little plastic pot, it's impossible to apply carefully/control, it burns when you put it on, it bleeds out 'til you look like a tore-up racoon, and by jove it kills the evil eye. and i need all the help i can get. i'm soooo close...

.

yeah, i know what I'M praying for at church tomorrow...speaking of, i have less than six hours before i need to get up for it...so i'm out. love, hugs and my little ponies to all of you, for you are adored by this sleepy blogger right herre. :)

december 8

today:  wrote this for Sepia Mutiny, mailed photographs to my favourite Aunt in Cochin, bought new leather-bound journal and spanish notebook at BN, winced powerfully b/c my bad knee started hurting (that means it's getting cold...and i'm getting...old), talked to Veena for a good 30 minutes about what she wants to get me for christmas, what mom wants for christmas, and how we both ended up computer-y instead of lawyer-y and doctor-y, had cleaning-supply-purchasing orgy at Harris Teeter, the yuppie grocery store.  hugged someone who looked like their future had been shattered.  made some sort of chinese food. didn't eat it (i don't eat east/southeast asian food).  got terribly excited that SM was noticed by the holier-than-holy Boing Boing, scrubbed things with bleach (the corners of my bathtub, where forsaken labels from my aromatherapy shower gel die a slow and watery death among shards of towel lint from my old martex bath sheets [how on earth does such fluff survive, nay, thrive in the SHOWER?], right next to the gunky carcass of once-new bar soap the landlord thoughtfully left.)  felt very martha stewart-y  much like a proper indian mom.  muttered "a woman's work is never done".  ate too many unsulfured, unsweetened granny smith dried apple rings as a 2am snack.  wrinkled my nose after smelling my hands, b/c they still reeked of bleach, despite the scrubbing...and the jasmine soap rubbing.  watched four episodes of SATC-season one, back-to-back.  felt sleepy even as i knew, without a doubt, that i would not sleep.

tried not to worry.

.

why does cooking something destroy my appetite consummately?

.

is no news good news?  :/

i hate being stuck in a holding pattern.

december 7

Sepia Mutiny posts from me:  brit mallu spelling bee champ and then a story about a disabled little boy that made my heart swell

.

i've been caught between stress and drama, and haven't had time to post...what did i do this week? 

sunday-  border's, trader joe's, vicious interval training at the gym

monday-  the interview.  sprintpcs store (toil and trouble). 

tuesday-   the phone call about the interview...

tomorrow, i might have good news.  say prayers that include me, if you are so inclined.  :)  like i was saying to someone dear on AIM today, i'll believe it when i'm taking my first coffee break...until then, i'm a slightly bitter skeptic who wants it all on paper.  this year has given me too many dreams that ended up breaking my heart by not coming true.  i'm the ultimate st. thomas christian after all of it, not that such a development is a bad (or inapposite) thing...

i wanted to do andrea's second omair quiz, but i'm exhausted.  i'm going to try and sleep.  if that's futile, i'll get back up and you'll have a MEGA-QUIZ to waste time with at work tomorrow.  joy.

december 1

this week has been tough; a seemingly endless cycle of "hurry up" and "wait".  sigh.

i'm slightly blue for that, more blue for my failure to finish NaNoWriMo, and bluer still because i just came from a very disturbing website that describes a tragedy which has never been addressed.  injustice always lacerates me emotionally, and what happened twenty years ago is no different.  if Bhopal had been in amreeka, those survivors would be millionaires.  it's not fair.  and it's triggering all sorts of sorrow.

.

i forgot to wear my red ribbon today.  sigh.  it's a sucky day when the world bank is more conscious than you.  bleh.  :(

.

sepia mutiny:  i discuss kerala's latest bad-assed maneuver AND two british kids who are trying to increase the peace.  go.  comment.  thanks.

.

yup, new flog.  i wrote a bit more over there, so that totally makes up for my anomalous wordlessness here.  it so does.  don't even start with me, minnows.  you know i love you.

.

i'm sore from abs and legs at the gym yesterday, and i'm going to bed.  'night.

november 23

lastest SM post of mine: something on the smartest kid in india. i felt like quite the retard after writing it.

headache: no

last smackerel: fake chinese food with black bean paste, chili sauce, and lots of edamame
last libation: plain old water

i 'mell like: oranges and nivea.

fave quote of day: "well, i had been so worried about you-- i called veena, she said you must be fine...b/c you put up a fotolog..." ~moms :)

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

janani made my night-- after my reluctant carping all over her comments section, she actually put a feed on her blog! this is huge, b/c now i can read her via my BLOGLINES! still don't get it? this means i'll read her DAILY vs weekly. if you're not on bloglines yet, you don't know what you're missing. /end unpaid testimonial ;)

.

i haven't had a mobile in over four days, and i'm shocked at how happy this has made me. i got my first cell phone in 1991, and i think the novelty has worn off. either that or i'm getting cantankerous, and i no longer wish to be so accessible. whatever it is, i didn't miss the cellie anywhere near as much as i assumed i would. i once had 1100 peak minutes per month...i haven't used more than 300 in a long while. so that's what i've switched to-- 300 peak, sprint-to-sprint and evenings that commence at 7pm. this means i'm going to be a lot less interested in speaking to you, unless:

1) it's night. or weekend. or both.
2) you have sprint, too. woo-hoo ankur and veena!
3) i called you.

i reeeeally prefer email. or text message. is that any surprise, considering my relationship with words?

.

i was supposed to be in bed three hours ago, but i felt so much pressure to put an SM post up...and then "Bridget Jones" came on...and that movie is like crack for my eyes. finally, i was all like..."well damn. if i'm up, i might as well type in my diary". and there you have it.

.

in closing, i canNOT resist, i must excerpt something someone dear (who is 23) wrote on their LJ about SALTAF this weekend:

Sunday: ...We stayed for the panel discussion after the film and i noticed a fellow blogger in the audience...Anna (of) http://anna.typepad.com. We decided to all get together for drinks afterwards...me, her, her friend, and Grant.

I had a lot of fun...it was interesting bonding about similar strict childhood experiences and yacking about random things in malayalam...and talking about the other people you're with knowing they don't understand you...mwhahaha...j/k

You'd never guess her age by looking at her. I hope i'm that fun and exuberant when i'm 29/30. Grant actually thought she was younger than me, lol. Could be the shorty-short catholic schoolgirl skirt, stockings and high-heeled mary janes...rowrrr!

yep. that's my standard uniform. :D now if you'll excuse me, i have to go blush. true to her awesome nature, she made me way cooler than i actually be. thanks, krusty. :)

november 20

latest SM post of mine: this is so fcuking funny-- it's about Julie Ann Titus of ANTM fame and a certain fashion designer...you MUST read it.

headache: yes

last meal: amsterdam falafel-- this is my new addiction
last drink: pear nectar. ridiculously succulently cravingly yummy.

i 'mell like: spearming/eucalyptus aromatherapy shtuff and nivea.

fave quote of day: "but why were his balls smooth?" ~KP on the sexually explicit reading we had to endure. though i double-dog-dared him, he did NOT pose this question during the Q+A :D

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

i. am. windicated.

WINDICATED.

for my irrational loyalty to so-not-funny-anymore-SNL...i have been repaid, abundantly. this jackpot was especially welcome on a night like tonight, when i SHOULD HAVE BEEN IN BETHESDA celebrating a very special birthday. sigh.

but back to the event that kissed my boo-boos and made them all okay...

you see, U2 was the musical guest on SNL. i really don't need to type more...but i will, b/c like john kerry, i just can't shut up when it's good strategery to do so. hey, let's have a list!

REASONS WHY WATCHING U2 IS WAYYYY BETTER THAN ANYTHING ELSE ON A SATURDAY NIGHT:

1) um, it's U2. sheesh.

2) Bono is wearing creepers!!!! i haven't seen those since HIGH SCHOOL.

3) Bono mocks Assley Simpering's trainwreck by repeating "Live!" several times before singing.

4) Bono runs away from the obligatory group hug that ends each show to SING AN UNPRECEDENTED THIRD SONG! :o

5) the. song. is. "I will follow", a tune i adore so hard, i named my diary blogroll after it--look to the right.

6) U2 rocks the dust right off this classic joint.

7) Bono hugs Amy Poehler while singing the last few words, she's crying (i would be, too!) and he kisses her on the cheek when he's done. I'm swooning.

8) Bono runs up to a camera and says "Saturday Night Live...there's nothing else like it..." and then he yells "Live" a few MORE times to insult that dyed twit further

9) just when this CAN'T get any better, and i'm grinning so broadly my ears hurt, U2 starts playing another song as the audience goes nuts...i can't WAIT to hear which classic it will be...but i'm filling with dread, b/c the show is usually over by now...but, but...it's...U2. surely they are not this stupid?

...and then NBC cuts the blessed sound, flashes the production logo thing, and i scream at my television.

.

now i am vexed, and i am in no mood to tell you about my magical day at SALTAF. it was full of south asian authors, professors, theater and thinkers...all in one grand room at the Smithsonian, edifying the diesels right off of me. you KNOW you are itching to hear more...i mean, this is DC. that fairly guarantees drama, since i'm back after two years. oh, and drama there was. but screw that, there was sweetly fulfilling goodness, too and that deserves WAY more air-time.

so. i had wanted to pay proper tribute to SJM, netsap-pres extraordinaire...Prashant, who's even more brilliant in person and my new best friend Kishan, who kept me sane during some...challenging moments. they deserve brilliance, not the gnashing of my teeth and the muttering of curses at NBC. sigh. i'm going to focus on the positive vs the very negative network that SUCKS.

for example: though SJM was SO BUSY running things, he STILL managed to take care of me, like the true sweetheart he is. he totally deserves some groupie love. perhaps i'll try to tell you all about this tomorrow...after all, the festivities start in less than nine hours...SALTAF is a *two*-day event. ;)
.
.
.
confidential to little nik: you are the sweetest thing. wow. i have no words.
.
.
.
must remember: to ask manish about N, see if squirrel is feeling better, apologise again to julie (happy birthday!!!) and check in on my fave doctor in chicago.

november 17

latest SM posts: kashmir, rolls royces. you should look at the latter just for the picture.

two HUGE things i did today, that i've been putting off: cancelling my CA checking account, cancelling my gym membership. well, i didn't actually get to CANCEL either, the former b/c i still have a wee bit of money in it, and i need to spend it first via checkcard...the latter b/c i need to fax them some whining in writing. but i called! and followed through! and that's huge!

eh...

i made indian food tonight. yeah, i was feeling THAT well.

time for a picture, that'll distract you:

that's my cousin Cindy from philly. she's a sweetie. that and i have a THING for chiffon saris. anyway, i am so exhausted. freely find final wedding fotolog here. go, and comment. if you love me, that is...

tomorrow? i see reena for the first time in over two years. :)

november 13

new features or changes on this webpage that you will probably neither notice nor care about:

1) NaNoWriMo button with little bird on it...

2) "bug me not" button...a most awesome resource that lets you bypass stupid mandatory web registrations.  for example:  i NEVER used to read the LA Times, b/c i didn't feel like giving them all of my info...now i just go to bug me not, type in www.latimes.com and a login is immediately available.  so genius.

3) chococat/sanrio button.  self-explanatory.  fan for 3 decades and counting...

4) blogshares button- if you've ever felt like checking this bizarre game out, feel free.  i avoided it for a year, and now i'm kicking myself.  anyway, this just tells you i'm listed on this fun, fake stock market where blogs are companies (and that means i have a three blog empire).

5) bloglet has been fixed-- if you were wondering what happened to it.  perhaps you are wondering (though most likely not) what is bloglet?  it's a way for you to be emailed whenever this page is updated, w/a link back here, etc.  it's how i kept track of Abhi before i started using bloglines. :)

6)  finally-  inspired by someone in new york who was looking for the ancient diary entry where i quoted the translation to the "ek ladki" lyrics in ENGLISH, and couldn't find them: you can now search this entire site via google.  scroll down to the absolute bottom of the page, enter something like "pixies", et voila.  every pixies reference i ever made, either here OR on HERstory OR /closet...it only returns results from anna.typepad.com/*.  that's huge.  makes things way easier. i love when blogs have that, so i can easily refer back to something that isn't springing immediately to my feeble memory. (the fact that i try and keep track of almost eighty blogs doesn't help).

oh yeah, and though this wasn't my intention for setting it up, b/c i don't like how it's formatted, more google text ads show up on top of your search results, which apparently provides me with more opportunities for revenue.  supposedly, this could make me rich one day.  (ha.) 

[you know, i still haven't received a SINGLE check...b/c i'm at $99.00.  sigh.  that damned last dollar...they only give you rupees if you reach $100.] 

{ah, my highly unlikely dream of getting paid to blog/write...}

<and...i'm out of brackets!>

.

.

.

that is all.  i had to fix poorly lit wedding pictures from last weekend before putting them up on fotolog, and then i sent ten jpegs from the reception to my sister, per her request.  i am exhausted from all the paintshop pro-ing i've done during these last 4+ hours.  ugh.

.

.

.

star jones is a tacky, tacky whore who must be stopped.  she's rich enough to have a three-story penthouse in nyc, but she wants people to donate crap/sponsor her wedding.  also (and this was her first sin) she's going on and on about it, as tina fey so wryly put it tonight, as if she's "the first person to ever get married!"  bleh.  i read an article where she kept going on and on about how deeply religious she is, and how it's all about G-d.  riiiiiiight.  i wonder whose advertising is on her bible?

.

.

.

my neck hurts. 

.

.

.

i made a button.  :)  steal it!

i'll tell you how, if you need me to... ;)

november 12

Now Watching: "Mother India" starring Nargis

Now Listening to: The Cure, remixed

Now Drinking: water

Now Eating: root beer float made with fresh root beer from the iron hill brewery in newark, de

Now Wearing: old slate blue armani exchange v-neck, white knit boxers, gold hoops, cross and payal...(still haven't taken stuff off from last week's wedding!)

NaNoWriMo: 1980, all on the way to delaware

like the new categories? i borrowed them from here, my very first typepad blog post ever. erm, i should be more honest...it was actually my friendster profile at the time, and yes, i was bored enough with my bank job that i would update the "now eating/drinking etc" almost daily. i am still filled with disbelief that back then, people would tune in to my fster page to check and remark upon such things...i mean, following a blog daily is one thing, i do that for several of you...but i sure as hell don't check your social networking profiles. :)

anyway.

let us move on from the incredibly large number of people on friendster who were thrilled that my "drink" was (is?) black and coke, and get to my rainy day. due to unforseen circumstances, i had to change up my plans, so i headed to delaware in the afternoon for some phenomenal food and other stuff. except it's friday. and there's precipitation. and that means that it took over four hours to do what normally takes two. sigh.

if i didn't have four slices of the most fantastic "greek salad" pizza currently marinating in my fridge, i'd be mighty pissed at such delays, but they're there, and true to my usual good luck, the two sweetie pie girls behind the counter at peace of pizza gave me two of the slices for free. ah, it's good to be cute when you're broke. ;) i've said it before, i'll type it again; it's one thing for a guy to hook you up or pay you a compliment...but when a fellow female does, it's FANTASTIC. :D
.
.
.
i'm trying to get back in the habit of doing this almost nightly; i'm trying to get back in the habit of going to the gym, lest my new-found curves devolve into new-found cheese. bleh. not succeeding at either, i should add...

the fact that it's 6:16am makes me think i should at least feebly attempt sleep...but in case you're not done being entertained, go look at fotolog. there's more wedding pics there, like the one above.
.
.
.
random: so i'm totally addicted to channel 225, the abc cable news venture...and you know what this means, right? sigh. the micro-crush on hari sreenivasan returns. oh hari, your hair is even cuter this time! oy. ;)

november 3

it started out as an awful day...i got FADED on johnny and coke last night, came home at around midnight and started running around like a four-year old on red bull. i needed to puke. i couldn't puke. i ran in to a wall. i didn't need to do that. i finally passed out next to a very clean garbage can, my poor roomie exhausted from my antics (and thank you for taking such good care of me, for only getting two hours of sleep before work; you are an angel.), my head still buzzing from intoxicants, my heart still full of hope.

it was like 2000 all over again. THAT time, i spent election night at the now-defunct West 24, the upscale southern restaurant owned by carville and matalin in the west end. it was a flawless choice, especially b/c my grad school rented out the back room and fed us. (that's what i got for $32k a year in tuition. canapes.)

i remember leaving around midnight and taking a cab home to my logan circle apt. i remember my eyes popping open at around five, my hand homing in on the remote, my tv screen bouncing to life with NBC...i remember being astounded. gore was leading when i left the party...suddenly...he wasn't.

last night, though i passed out in a black haze, at four am my eyes popped open and i felt massive deja vu. my hand found a different remote, a different TV blazed to life. democracy plaza didn't look so hot. my roomie groaned at my sudden resurrection. it was riveting for a second or two, and then my chest caved in. not again. not like 2000. suddenly i couldn't sleep. i couldn't do anything but rack my brain for hows and whys, for lost lessons from campaign school, for signs that i had missed...

my domestic partner groggily muttered, "you got less than three hours sleep...you're going to be hurtin' later. oh, and you REEK of whiskey. like, from here."

i didn't pay attention to any of that, except to catalogue it in that way i do, so that i can perhaps later type it here, for you.

at about 8am, i started to feel violently ill. i realised that the planets had all aligned and they were gleefully destroying my life. i knew why my head hurt so much. i knew why my heart hurt so much. i thought i knew why i wanted to puke...but it wasn't from the alcohol, or the election. i was getting some monthly curse action.

you've got to be kidding me.

i have NEVER had the misfortune of commencing cramps and female-torture WHILE being overwhelmingly hungover. let me tell you, it's not a combination i wish on dubya even. rove, maybe. you see, the only way to cure cramps is to take motrin. you can't take motrin on an empty tummy. this is where my hangover becomes relevant; thanks to that, looking at or smelling food made me want to scratch out my own face. the thought of eating made me want to retch. without eating, painkilling would be impossible, and i'd be forced to pay for eve's stupidity with some really violent lower body pain.

sigh.

and all the while, it's a scary new reality blaring out of the television.

i forced down a slice of raisin bread, half a glass of milk and 800mg of ibuprofen. i tried to lie down in the living room, and writhed b/c the hangover, the cramps and the election made everything hurt. finally, mercifully, i crawled to my room and passed out.

when i woke up, the cramps had gone away but a special sort of shock and anxiety had just started...

.
.
.

1:30 am. my apt is spotless. for the first time. no boxes in the living room. actual hangers in my closet. it's kind of lovely actually. every stainless steel appliance gleams. the granite counters are pristine again. berber carpet vacuumed twice. dishwasher done humming. i was even on my fucking knees scrubbing the grout between marble tiles. yeah. THAT kind of cleaning.

never underestimate my joy in unbelievably domestic pleasures; when i realised that the sink's spout detached and became a mini-hose that i could manouever however i pleased, i actually gasped with happiness.

i have to be up in less than five hours, to pick up someone from the airport.

my head is spinning, from the fumes of cleaning products, exhaustion and just plain disbelief at recent political events.

i still need to take a shower. and not mess up the perfect bathroom. the mirrors shimmer, the counters shine, there is no dust or towel lint anywhere. i can't believe that the thought just crossed my mind, that i should run upstairs and shower in the women's locker room of my building's gym. i'm not that much of a freak. but i wouldn't judge someone who was. my first visitor will be in this apartment, in eight hours. i'm ready. for them and everything else...

october 28

i'm so fucking lazy. curly-haired goddess ranj asked me about my current location, and i'm totally ctrl-v'ing an answer below. time for me to announce it to the world, i guess:

all:

i know. i've been anomalously distant, figuratively AND literally, it turns out. i apologise for not being accessible to you. it's been a whirlwind of a month, and many of you have wondered what on earth is going on...i go back east for my cousin's wedding and...haven't...left...yet?

that's actually correct.

ever whimsical, i now live in DC. :) yes, i've moved, just like that. i don't miss CA and i don't feel like leaving...so i won't. good thing i never changed my mobile number, eh? the area code once
again "fits"...as does everything else.

a few of you have asked, "how is this possible/don't you need to go back home and get your things"? actually, i do not. when i said farewell to new york city on january 5, 2002, i left my entire life in a convenient manhattan mini-storage. i only took two suitcases back to CA to commence with, so all's well that logistically ends well.

to answer your next question, i don't anticipate being home before christmas, since i prefer to spend thanksgivings in maryland, anyway.

now that i'm almost unpacked, i'm in the midst of searching and interviewing for jobs, and it's quite distracting. i promise i'll be sweeter about returning calls, emails, AIMs, text messages and flaming arrows soon. promise to forgive me?

i hope you are well. i promise i'm still reading your emails, messages and blogs...i'm sincere when i type that i miss you all.

i'll close by redundantly articulating what is evident from recent photographs of me: it's good to be *home*.

xxoo,

anna/latha :)

.
.
.

in other non-shocking developments, PNC sucks as a loan-provider. you shouldn't need legal counsel to deal with your student loans, for fuck's sake. ah, but if only GW had told me that this was no ordinary (read: legit) student loan. anyway. the two worst days of this year had to do with the neverending shit-hole that is this one debt...and today we had day three.

that is all.

send johnny walker gold and comment love appropriately.

.
.
.

october 26

so not in the rhythm of doing this anymore...pity. that you all actually have to WORK instead of be entertained by me... ;)

anyway.

my insomnia is ba-ack. so i am trying a SECOND sleep-aid, and obviously it's kicking in, right as i attempt to write this. i think part of my "diary block" is the fact that my categories are gone, and they gave me structure. i need to get me some new cats.

i'm trying to wave my arms through the fog that's in my mind...trying to remember all the cool things that happened today...

well, there is this letter...would you like to read it? no matter, i'm pasting it anyway. :D

actually, if i'm going to paste a letter...why not paste two?

this one MADE my day:

Crazy, i've never randomley e-mailed anyone before. i guess it always has seemed kinda creepy. but i stumbled across you web page and am not sure which has floored me more; your musical taste or your stunning beauty. it's odd that i come aross someone with as much diverse musical tastes as myself. as a clasically trained concert percussionist who grew up w/ hip -hop(real hip -hop) and playing in all sorts of bands ranging from new wave,punk,reggae,emo,blue grass and folk; it was stunning to see someone that shared my tastes. just wanted to say hey and i'm glad that i'm not the only diverse one out there! :) - Mike

mike doesn't know how awesome he is/what a nerve he struck...i'm massively proud of my eclectic taste in tunes.

.
.
.

THIS one just confoosed me. gee, anyone feel like translating?

hai anna ji i am ricky ji main holland rehta hu ji maine aap ki web-sied dekhi ji aap ki fotos dekhi ji aap bohut khoobsurt ho ji mere holland main restorent hai ji main apne famliy ke saath rehta holland main ji mere papa mama hor eek bhabi hai badha hai ji main apne bhai se chota hu ji aap ko mera messages to ji

i think he's introducing himself, he's from holland, he went to my website...saw pictures...says they are beautiful? something about family...a sister-in-law and an older brother??? people, i love getting mail from you, and though i speak a few languages, THAT isn't one of them. ;)

oh yeah, anyone figure out the message from my last diary post? about the river ganges? sigh. stranger mail. it grows stranger and stranger...

;)

p.s. my last sepia post was on julie ann titus, the mallu girl who was unceremoniously kicked off Amreeka's next top model-who-isn't-a-real-Model. sigh. and i was rooting for that kid, too.

october 19

today, i swooned because the elusive genius SAS HIMSELF (whom i know, in real life!) complimented one of my shockingly-less-than-terrible attempts at real photography. you have no idea what this means to me, such praise. from him. he's phenomenal. ridiculously talented. sodding brilliant, really. do be kind enough to pardon me while i go faint again, won't you loveys?

september 24

today:

marked the one-week point for my stay in DC...i arrived at 7:30am last friday @ dulles and i'm still (gasp) alive.

i woke up at noon because i'm still on CA time.

i got ready for a lunch date in record time.

i had a yummy pizza sandwich at the potbelly deli.

while there, i tried a new cola with green tea in it, to go with aforementioned concoction, b/c there are only two instances when i like coke (in my johnny walker Black or Gold, or with pizza) and this was one of them.

after that, i caught up with a dear old friend.

she later took me back to "her" apt, where we (now three thanks to the good doctor B) listened to the Pixies in a very special way (with a muted symphony performance from Bravo or A+E on the plasma, the conductor's frenzied direction miraculously melding with Frank Black's brilliance screaming from the stereo's speakers).

then i watched "hum tum", my first bollywood flick in almost a year. i liked it. for the most part. i.e. as long as she was willing to fast fwd through any dance sequence.

the afternoon flew, and soon it was evening. i said good-bye to the badger whose father was also a pathologist, and the squirrel whose parents both doctor, and i walked back to this most luxurious ny-ish high-rise that i am staying in,

where i watched the Lord of the Rings for an hour, before tearing myself away b/c i could lose myself in middle earth forever.

and i changed structured cotton tank top for lace lingerie top, and leather and wood flip-flops for pale gold stiletto'd heels,

and i went to dinner in georgetown, at my belowed Amma wegetarian cuisine, where they were so happy to see me, the chai and dessert were free.

then i came home.

now i'm going to bed.

today was a good day.

.
.
.

tomorrow: handling long-overdue business, via a very significant trip to new york city. yes, theo, i'm breathing. it's the only way i'm still standing, innit?

september 21

weight: ?
bodyfat: ? i'm not at home, so i can't weigh myself etc. that's kind of nice, actually.

gym: 35" elliptical.

i 'mell like: dove. coriander. a wee bit of mango.

last song on the Rio: "follow the light" by travis

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

i had mentioned previously that i'm not sure what i'm going to do with those categories that i start every diary entry w/...they seem fairly useless, but tonight they gave me two minor epiphanies, so i have a renewed respect for their utility.

1) i don't really care what i weigh. haven't cared in forever. during the first three months of this year, i lost more weight than i ever did before, and dropped down to a scary, unhealthy 120-lbs. writing my weight on here daily made me accountable to the two or three of you who were totally worried about this. it also was a handy record for me...hmm. maybe i'll keep it.

2) when i got to the "gym" category, i realised that today is truly a historic HERstoric day; i went to the gym. i went when i wasn't at home. i've NEVER gone to the gym whilst on vacation...i've tried, valiantly, to keep up with this very good habit, and i've even packed athletic gear b/c i was COMMITTED to going...but whenever i got to wherever i was, i'd dissolve into vacation mode, and exercise would be one more thing that i was "taking a break" from.

to be succinct (ha!): i've never been this dedicated.

2a) omg, i used my meager knowledge of html for the very first time, for something in the last para. HERstoric stuff indeed.

so categories are good. perhaps we'll just tweak them a little. again, i'm open to suggestions.

.
.
.

being in DC is heavenly. it feels right.

.
.
.

my cousin's wedding was sheer bliss.

it occurred on saturday, in DC and it was one of the main reasons i flew out here. that evening was so extraordinary, my life is still shimmering; upon reflection, it reminds me of that wee bit of micro-glitter that subtly clings to your eyelids, even though you took off your makeup last night like a good girl, even though it's already the very next day. so it's emotional glitter on my soul. quite predictably, i don't feel like washing it away.

.
.
.

photo: dinesh

september 14

weight: 140
bodyfat: 21

gym: 35" cybex. all five legs. mistake. now my hip hurts again. (yesterday: arms, abs, shoulders, back)

i 'mell like: nivea and fabric softener.

last song on the Rio: "safe" by travis

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

some of you might be wondering where all of today's "blog angst" (password protecting the site, "can't please everyone" posts, etc) is coming from. i've obviously had a rough summer, and though i'm aware that the vast majority of you are kind, loyal, good people who genuinely care about me and wish me well, i'm a bit disheartened by two things that marred my day:

1) the comment from anon. yes, yes. i'm used to the negative comments. that's not it. it's the idea that after a YEAR of blogging, baring my emotional innards, being as raw as i could stand...i'm still this misunderstood. i am not some evil, shitty person. i can't fucking believe that it all gets twisted. STILL.

2) there's a picture of my mom with my priest on fotolog. one of you commented that moms looks totally like my little sister, veena. someone anonymous felt the compulsion to add, "your mom looks like my dick", right underneath.

sigh.

attack me if you want to, but my mom? wtf? i resolutely tell myself that this is the price paid for gaining all of my astonishing, extraordinary new friends, that putting one-self out there results in such stupid attacks...but after the summer i've had, i can't help but wonder why.

why?

why do i still do this? why do i still have these sites when i'm unemployed, have drained my savings and can ill-afford to? they most certainly do NOT pay for themselves by inspiring people to click those damned ads; i haven't received a check yet. why spend the money AND the time it takes to keep it all up and current? when i've learned that they can turn my life upside down, destroy what i love, and ruin my day? why do i do this to myself?

i used to think that i did it to help people, because i know i did. i know i helped specific individuals deal with heartbreak or the loss of a parent.

i did it because i love to write, and nothing has ever helped me write more consistently than blogging.

i did it because i met andrea, SAS, livin' simply...people whom i would've never otherwise encountered, people who have made my life so much better to live.

i did it because it was fun.

all of that was enough, for this year.

but i'm moulting, shrugging off 18 months of pain, introspection and ctrl-alt-del'ing my life. i'm questioning everything, including the activity that takes up most of my waking hours. and i don't like the answers.

i used to actually worry that when i had a job (ha!), i wouldn't get to blog as much. oh my, what ever would i do? i was slightly horrified. that's how important blogging had become...

now part of me relishes the thought of a day so filled that i don't go near a computer. a day that exhausts me and doesn't allow me any typepad. a day with no blogging. how did this happen? is it possible that i've finally hit the wall with regards to negativity? i already regret most of this, i regret ever being THIS open, i regret being so "exuberant", online, as one of you lovingly put it.

regret should never be associated with your greatest passion or hobby.

ever.

.
.
.

i didn't write this to fish for comments that reassure me. i wrote it b/c this is my diary, and this is what you actually write, in your diary.

thank you for hearing me.

september 12

weight: 136
bodyfat: 21

gym: rest.

last type of cheese consumed: the creamiest, most addictively luxe feta, EVER.

i 'mell like: mint and astringent. also, a very rare french perfume.

last song on the Rio: "alec eiffel" by the pixies

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

i'm thinking of changing around the categories you just read through, above. what do you think? feel free to submit your own suggestions. for comparison's sake, check out how my favourite dj handles it. i think i'll keep the "last song on the Rio". i like that one.

.
.
.

i did make it to church, after all. i wore a fantastic hat and was the only one who did so. i ended up feeling grateful that i had made such an audacious fashion declaration when i cried during the memorials for the russian children and the victims of 9/11, and no one could see my tears. i hate crying in public.

i also took communion. this means a host of things, including this: you can't kiss me. it also means i didn't curse all day. shocking. the whole lot of it. including thea barbara (thea = auntie) pinching my cheeks and calling me "so cute!" thrice.

.
.
.

i loathe this picture of me, but i'll use it anyway. you see, i realised you're all just going to stare at my chest and not notice my rounded nose (gc!) OR the fact that i'm shoving an entire greek donut hole in my mouth instead of nibbling it delicately. whatever. new flog is up. that's all this was meant to tell you. you can never say that i leave you hanging on mondays. ;)

september 11

weight: 136
bodyfat: 21

gym: legs. that makes FOUR for this week! (M,R,F,S)

last type of cheese consumed: none.

i 'mell like: this amazing bodywash. i smell like clean. :)

last song on the Rio: "trompe le monde" by the pixies

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

HERstory is a year-old today. my first real blog commenced with a post written (read: pasted) last year, on september 11. happy birthday, little blog that could.

.
.
.

i know i've been away for a while. i hope you believe me when i say that i've missed you as much as you've missed me distracting you. :)

this isn't easy for me to type. i'm no longer in the habit of writing diary entries, and that was something i worked very hard to prevent, all year. only life-altering trauma disrupted it though, so i won't beat myself up too much.

anyway. practice makes perfect, right? so here goes.

.
.
.

before i forget...the last five SM posts i wrote are linked below, b/c you lazy-assed bitches astound me with your inability to look for "anna" under the posts on that blog ;) :

this one explains why i won't marry someone FROM india, no matter how many times my relatives try and convince me that it would be FANTASTIC.

this one reminds me of my sikh best friend from college, and how her parents relentlessly favoured her brother even though she was the most devoted, accomplished child they had.

i don't know if any of you people are either guju or jain, but if you are, this bud's for you.

this is the closest thing i've written to a fiery post in a WHILE. i mouthed off in the comments section, too.

finally, THIS one is for all you fluff-heads who hate politics and current events and boring shit. guess who's got some indian in her?

seriously, you guys...check out sepia mutiny. we read a million articles so you don't have to...if it has to do with brown culture, politics or news, it's there and it doesn't suck. if you think i'm gushing too promotional, a) fuck you. b) know this: when i look back on 2004, i will undoubtedly say that it was the greatest thing i achieved all year. for real.

.
.
.

september 1

despite my suddenly fecund presence over at the greatest groub blog of all time, i'm still not really able to write, unless it's about subjects neutral and not so related to me.

so i'll cheat.

Last Cigarette: i don't smoke, but when dj cheb i sabah offered me a clove on saturday, i should've fucking accepted.

Last Car Ride: from costco, with moms, 6:45pm.

Last Kiss: ...

(maybe this was a very bad idea...)

Last Good Cry: today, when i watched video of nancy reagan coming undone, as she was saying good-bye to her husband's casket, during the montage at the republican national convention. she and the late president were more in love than...*almost* any two people i've ever known...of...

(FANTASTIC meme to snatch, annabelle. bloody brilliant.)

Last Library Book: something in grad school, probaby pertaining to my thesis. Borders is my library now. they're open later. i only buy from independent stores though...some punk/davis/indie proclivities never die.

Last book bought: sula, toni morrison. but i've received 3 books in as many weeks as gifts...

Last Book Read: i AM reading "what happy people know". it's genius.

Last Movie Seen in Theatres: the bourne supremacy, with S, in delaware. sigh. i 'muggled in a mcdonald's flurry via my excessively preppy basket purse, and he remarked that girls get away with murder. : |

Last Movie Rented: american (pie) wedding. i needed to laugh. and hear the word "MILF" ;)

august 30

UPDATE: no, the link below doesn't work...the post was just *too* personal (even i have limits?) and so it had to go...for now. sorry, minnows. :(
.
.
.
hemophilia.
.
.
.

i think everything is going to be all right.
.
.
.
thank you, each and every single spectacular one of you, for your prayers, thoughts, hexes, dreams, wishes and love.

august 24

weight: 137
bodyfat: 22

gym: kickboxing

read: what happy people know.

last type of cheese consumed: spicy pepper jack, in my quesadilla

i 'mell like: sandalwood and roses.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

this blood will not clot.

.

august 23

weight: 137
bodyfat: 22

gym: rest.

read: damnit, i'm so tired i can't remember the title...

last type of cheese consumed: nacho + queso asadero

i 'mell like: sandalwood and astringent. it's heady.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

there is a weird pain in my left side. it's getting progressively worse. this bloated awfulness usually signals that a massive bloodletting is about to happen on HERstory, aka my real blog. i'm suffering from the most torturous sort of writer's block EVER. as i'm driving, eating, showering, reading...my mind feverishly turns phrases and composes flawless prose. mentally, i've written the damned post twenty times already...but put me in front of this PC and i freeze.

epiphany: omg. i just realised that i've never "written" anything on this compaq before. dear lord, please don't tell me that the late VAIO was the catalyst for my nascent career as a writer. :( i'd prefer to think that no "blood" has been let b/c i'm sober, and we all know that i blog best when slightly miserable and slightly tipsy, pacifically when the latter is greater than the former...

hmmm.

anyway. in moments like these, rather than have you read my drivel, i'd prefer to direct you to the best thing i read all day-- and maybe all week: my idol Dooce celebrated her 2nd anniversary with the most perfect, understanding husband ever via "dueling" blog posts that tell the truly amazing story of how they met. go read some of THAT, minnows. i guarantee it's better than what you'll find here. ;)

beyond that, there's new stuff at sepia mutiny...a post like this and one like that. they deal w/Sex and the City and Hijras on South Asian TV, if you are so inclined.

i also put a NASTY pic of wicked stepmother britney on my fotolog. i'm no fan of Shar Jackson, or whateverhernameis but if i saw this pic, i'd tell that trailer-weasel Kevin that there ain't NO way my babies will be around someone so filthy. surely a family court judge would agree, no? ack! my "monk"-like germphobe proclivities! i need triclosan, stat!

august 22

weight: 137
bodyfat: 22

gym: rest. did all five "legs" + torture abs yesterday.

read: the SF chronicle sunday paper.

last type of cheese consumed: string.

i 'mell like: sandalwood, roses, mango and mandarin, nivea...lots of good things.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

i'm learning how to be stronger.

the whole month of august has pretty much been shit, and today was no exception...one of the only ex-bfs who still matters called me today to

a) wonder about the legitimacy of blogging as a hobby

("i remember when you were working 80 hours a week, and dedicated to a cause...this blog fotolog thing of yours exists only b/c you have nothing else to do.")

ouch.

and b) demand why, if i'm feeling steadily "upset", i don't do anything about it.

bigger ouch.

then, minnows, i dissolved in to unstoppable saltwater. and then i got angry. anyone who makes me cry shouldn't have a place in my world. life is too fucking short, damnit. i put up w/way too many toxic people, b/c i am forgiving and b/c i can't bring myself to believe negative things about those whom i love.

august 19

weight: 138
bodyfat: 21

gym: rest. sooo pukey. like, ginger-ale level pukey.

read: THE WORLD FROM MY FIRE ESCAPE!!! :D

last type of cheese consumed: extra sharp cheddar on my wedgie burger

i 'mell like: lavendar and strawberries.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

took a sleeping pill, m'lovelies...been trying to agree with it for the last two hours.

i'm sure you'll excuse me if there's no "diary" tonight, right? perhaps you didn't see the ridiculously funny pictures of my dog Rani, on fotolog from yesterday? if you didn't, there's some diversion there. if not, i did update THREE other sites.

the links are below (and ribbed for your pleasure):

~ what's in my purse?

~ raid my closet

~ and of course, i wrote a li'l political sum'n for Sepia Mutiny, too :)

sigh. wish me sleep. i need it, thank you.

august 18

weight: 137
bodyfat: 21

gym: rest. (yesterday: kickboxing)

read: THE WORLD FROM MY FIRE ESCAPE!!! :D

last type of cheese consumed: whatever is on salsa doritos ;)

i 'mell like: lavendar and mango.

Sepia Mutiny by anna: here.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

guess who is ALL OVER my flog? why a bitch named rani, that's who. :D six new pics await you, so hie thee to mah fotolog, honeychile. oh, like your work is more important. pshaw. ;)
.
.
.
let's front like it's high school, and you're reading the cryptic shit in our yearbook, shall we? :D

SV: i *just* got it today. wheeee! THANK YOU!!!

GT: no worries about me. i'm just going through a spate of really terrible luck. more to "blog" about, b/c of it...right? i got warm fuzzies from your email, btw. :)

SS: 143! U R My HeArT!! {gag} <<---- for the typing style, not the sentiment ;)

NS: oh zen master, my lungs are tired!

MM: am i allowed to blow up your "blog"spot?

...and...that game just got old. ;)
.
.
.

august 16

weight: 136
bodyfat: 22

gym: rest (2.5 hours of sleep is so not conducive to gymming)

read: still mo' "Sula" by miss morrison

last type of cheese consumed: none

i 'mell like: lavendar and sandalwood.

NEW: sepia mutiny posts from me are here and here.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

so
fucking
tired.

:( i canNOT get HERstory to work properly-- i have a new banner that i'm massively excited about, it won't fucking load. my eyes are crossing as i stare at this damned PC.

i was "redesigning" vs writing for most of the night. so sorry, minnows. go look at new pics on fotolog, or Sepia Mutiny, for some freshmaker.

i'm too exhausted to write anything coherently right here except these three things:

1) i hope you are all well. :)

2) let's refrain from the "fuck offs" to each other in the comments section, shall we? i tend to know who people like "perplexed" turn out to be, and they aren't the evil monsters you think, oh wishers of "fuck-offing". ah, that reminds me. zen lesson for the taking, right there...innit? not everyone who disagrees w/me is a hater, and they may actually be good folks, despite my temporary and rabid distaste for them. if you want to be a "guest blogger" on my blog (wtf girl, amelie et al) then you must try and be zen too, for my sake.

3) have you taken ten deep breaths today? no? you should. it's yummy. and it persuades you from telling people to "fuck off". b/c that may be just what you are sorely tempted to do.

i must say, "amelie", that you are quite adept at causing a commotion. perhaps you should blog after all. that seems to be the primary prerequisite for the activity... ;)

i'm going to bed. also? badly drawn boy and sonic youth rock so hard, i'll be moping/dancing to them in my dreams.

'night.

(so sad for you, b/c i had so much to write. for ex: ask me about the abortion clinic guy and my republican take on it that was too shocking for my own inner-feminist to digest. omg, typing that makes me want to cry as my head spins. allergies and slumber beckon. perhaps tomorrow i'll spill, if you so desire...)

august 15

weight: 135
bodyfat: 21.5

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: arms. yesterday: 2 mile walk w/rani

write: :)
read: back to "Sula" by miss morrison

last type of cheese consumed: feta, on my greek salad.

i 'mell like: lavendar and strawberries.

NEW: sepia mutiny posts from me are here and here.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

i have no desire to write...even though the happy parts of my weekend were dominated by writing. i spent 3 hours at Caffe Greco on friday evening, mapping out an important new post that will eventually go on HERstory, aka my real blog, whose redesign is almost ready. it's been an emotionally exhausting weekend. this was not necessary or welcome after the stress-filled, viciously mean, heart-breaking two weeks i've just lived through, and i've slept away most of today b/c of all this-- i woke up at 2pm, then napped from 5:30-7pm. but the hard part is over, and if i survived the last 15 days (and especially a tear-drenched, marathon nine-hour phone conversation yesterday), then that changes everything. everything.

august 10

weight: 137
bodyfat: ?

kcal: :( not pukey, but virtually no appetite.
vasa: :)

gym: rest.

write: :)
read: back to "Sula" by miss morrison

last type of cheese consumed: whatever is on chili-cheese fritos

i 'mell like: lavendar and night-blooming jasmine.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

i'm okay. thank you for worrying.

it was another rough day, as a few of you are aware. one of you made a valiant effort to pull me away from the dark side (ennis). but the whole day wasn't mewling, puling shit. there were moments of sweetness that made it more bearable (thank you janani, and TAN). i *am* aware that i am so lucky that i have people like you to worry about me. you're all so busy, but you don't seem to hesitate to drop everything and pick me up when i'm low. upon reflection, i'm humbled by such generous compassion and concern.

august 9

weight: 137
bodyfat: 22ish

kcal: :( too pukey to eat
vasa: :)

gym: :) 32 mins of INTERVAL TRAINING, motherfuckers.

write: :)
read: more of "a pocket style manual" by hacker

last type of cheese consumed: string, pre-workout

i 'mell like: black.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

so there's this new group blog that i'm a part of. and i was so fired up about it, it carried me through awful last week. but its momentum was terrifying and before i knew it, it was up and running, and me, one of the biggest proponents/pains in the ass about it...well, i hadn't posted anything. and the more i checked it via my bloglines feeds, the more posts i saw, piling up...and it just made things worse. if your period is late, and you start to freak out about it, you're actually going to delay it further. same thing here. the more people posted, the more anxious i got, and THAT just gave me writer's block.

well, guess what? two stiff shots of JW Black and here we go:

august 7

weight: 138
bodyfat: 21.8

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: :) SEVEN upper-body exer.

write: :)
read: SULA by toni morrison

last type of cheese consumed: string and then queso asdero on my chipotle burrito.

i 'mell like: eucalyptus and spearmint. hard headed by tigi

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

today...

...the taste of memory:
bile-tinged,
salty-bitter,
like almost-vomit that your body changes its mind
about sending upwards,
like the coating on pills that you attempt to swallow
with no water,
like something vaguely poisonous,
like regret.

perhaps there's no difference between the latter two.

this unbearable haunting continues, and now i think it will never go away.

august 6 (revised)

weight: ?
bodyfat: 22

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: :( got home too late...

write: :)
read: Sula by Toni Morrison

last type of cheese consumed: none

i 'mell like: shimmer lotion, sandalwood and roses. also:a very rare, jitterbug sort of perfume.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

yes, i had oodles of fun with lady Andrea. :)

i didn't want to leave her, it was THAT cool to hang out w/her and her man. sigh. the blogsphere is filled with people who rock. and who wear diesel. well. ;)
.
.
.
then, later tonight, i met a witch (!) who told me that the universe was indeed trying to advise me of something, pacifically this: my destiny lies in DC, and i will not find a job in CA, NYC or Angkor Wat b/c of this fact. :O

test in seven hours...

august 5

weight: 138.5
bodyfat: 21.8

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: :) kickboxing AND five lower-body ex: hams/quads/calves/abd/adductors. go me.

write: :)
read: a pocket style manual by diana hacker

last type of cheese consumed: extra sharp cheddar on the greatest wedgie burger EVER, then feta on my salad. oooooh, TWO cheeses today!

i 'mell like: sandalwood and roses.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

fotolog has been updated. not one of the pictures has anything to do w/my dog. or sleep. there is no connection between this photo and what you may find if you click here. you have been warned. don't say that you were not. now let sleeping dogs lie, thank you.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

today i:

- went to kickboxing and got there EARLY for the first time ever. primo spot in the front, woo-hoo!

- laid the verbal-smackdown on some wanna-be thuggette--w/a bad weave--at the gym, when she got in my grill. don't do that after i just finished boxing. i'm serious, don't.

- gave that* asshole punjabi pindu the evil eye for talking smack about me to his phudi friend while i lifted right next to him. no, i am not fluent. but my ex-bfs and best friend dr. rajni taught me enough to know when i'm getting disrespected. chutiya bastard.

* there's a doozy of a blog post just waiting to spring forth on this guy, and how he annoyed/insulted me repeatedly at the gym last month. here's a taste: he could tell i was "easy" by my hair colour and cut. he thought i was too "black" to be a "real" indian, so obviously i must be "you know, one of the slave indians" who went to an island all indentured and shit. oh joy. no wonder i haven't wrote it yet. i'll grind my teeth down to ugly nubs by the time i'm done.

august 4

NOTE: my laptop died, and that means i'm posting via a totally different machine; lucky for me, moms had purchased herself a shiny new desktop, and that's what's keeping you ungrateful surfers in blog. UNLUCKILY for ALL of us, it has the world's most TATTI keyboard, so i've noticed that there are little errors here or there b/c of the bizarre and painful way the keys feel and move. sigh.

this is not a blog i edit. this is my diary. having said that, i'm a perfectionist who was excessively proud of my ability to type 75 wpm virtually error-free. thanks to this awful keyboard (with the least intuitive placement of certain key keys...EVER), i'm not typing with such impressive skill. please tell me this shit will eventually be broken in, b/c not only is it hurting my hands to type on it, it's hurting my head to write on it. gah.

weight: 137
bodyfat: 22

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: :) SEVEN different Upper Body exercises w/weights. yeesh.

write: :)
read:

last type of cheese consumed: none

i 'mell like: strawberries. lavendar. citrus and basil

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

today, i spent the entire afternoon crying, for reasons only a tiny number of you would fathom.
.
.
.
when i was 19 and at uc davis (aka "i got wait-listed at Cal, i SWEAR!"), i followed a classified ad in the school paper to my first job. i was hired to do one of the most difficult jobs i've ever had; i called reluctant alumni and dissatisfied parents in a vain attempt to raise unrestricted funding for various campus priorities. the turn-over rate in this department was shocking. most students lasted less than ten hours on the job; the ubiquitous hang-ups, invective tantrums and just plain vicious people were enough to dissuade even the most confident and accomplished of students from forging on...two weeks after i finished my training, i was the only student still on the floor from my hire group.

two years after i followed up on that classified ad, i reached a momentous and auspicious point; i had raised over $100,000 for a school i barely loved, and i had lasted longer than any other student caller had in the history of the program. i had the rare privilege of calling certain alums twice. i had the still rarer privilege of having them greet me with a warmth no glorified-telemarketer could dream of hearing..."hey! how ARE you...i remember you! you were the first student who ever got me to donate to that damned school..."

lest you think that enormous-by-student-standards sum was generated by me sweet-talking a few well-to-do alums...think again. think different. the loftiest level you could pledge was $1000, and i only hit that mark twice. no, my record-setting accomplishment was built painstakingly on the backs of $100 donations from alums who were less than enthused about our uc davis. via "$25 a month, for the next four months" pledges from defeated parents who were already enraged that we had the unmitigated gall to badger them for more money, when the state legislature shocked us regularly by hiking our fees and wiping out college funds faster than they were meant to burn...it was a brutal time to fundraise, but i did it.

during our breaks, we'd sit around the basement of Mrak Hall and commiserate about our lousy nights; the inevitable hang-ups, the discomfort at interrupting someone's dinner, the bruised feelings that accompanied getting verbally abused. "i'm NEVER going to be this mean when some student calls ME from davis," was an oft-expressed sentiment. personally, i daydreamed about what it would be like to exchange places with the alums. where would i be? would i be one of the grads who lived away from CA? it didn't seem likely. i thought i'd be 29, a newlywed and a lawyer living in SF. i smiled to myself when i thought of how i'd make some kid's day by saying yes at the most obscene gift-giving level, "the davis chancellor's club". entrance to THAT exclusive group would cost me $1000 ("payable in four easy installments of just $250 a month!").

well. we won't dwell on how i've bitterly disappointed 19-year old me...but we will retain our astonishment that the "inevitable" finally arrived, ten long years later.

today.

i got the call today.

august 3

weight: ? i don't weigh myself EVERY day, you know.
bodyfat: ?

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: :(

write: :)
read: back to slogging through Anna Karenina

last type of cheese consumed: EXTRA SHARP cheddar on my wedgie burger

i 'mell like: eucalyptus and spearmint

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

"what's that a picture of, anna? the frong page of fotolog? why? i don't see 'suitablegirl'. oh my...could it be? a new WIMP? no fucking way. way? oh. wow. FINALLY, i get to see what's in your damned purse, you lazy bitch! about time!"

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

i had wayyy too much chai today, and i'm paying the price for that-- note that it is 5am and i am WIRED. this is around when i went to bed *last* night, except i had to be up at 9 today, so i ended up getting about four hours of sleep. yeah, we all knew that wouldn't work. at 2:45 i dissolved into the most glorious nap i have ever exulted in, in the middle of a weekday. when i woke up, it was almost 4:30. 4:30 was when i was due in kickboxing. i shrugged and rolled over for a few more minutes of snuggling with my obscenely plust ultra-high thread count sheets. today's instructor is a total harpy if you are even slightly late. she lectures you and then boots you from class in front of everyone, b/c she really really digs shaming. w/no car and that woozy, "i just woke up!" fog surrounding me, i recognised what was futile-- and that was KB.

oh well.

so moms comes home, makes me loads of milky chai and then we go to costco, where i force her to buy her first anti-aging potion: olay's regenerist, the "chemical peel" in a bottle. i informed her that my extreme vanity knows no boundaries (hey, neither do i!) and i thought it stupid that she should look anywhere near her advanced and feeble age, which is 54. her entire staff at work thinks she's a good decade younger than that. these morons also ask me which college i've decided on, nevermind that the question ceased to be appropriate back in '92. since my mother kind of gets a kick out of this, i'm not allowed anywhere near her work, lest i divulge my true (and shameful!) age..."no one believes that i have a 30-year old child, latha. don't blow that spot!"

you mean, don't "blow up YOUR spot" ma?

"yes, vatewer. they will faint if they know how old you are. then they will feel sorry for you. none of my staffers who are as old as you are unmarried."

august 2

weight: 136
bodyfat: 21.5

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: rest

write: :)
read: salman rushdie's 'firebird'

last type of cheese consumed: nada

i 'mell like: lavendar

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

my laptop died at 7:58pm, tonight. :(

the battery/power situation was awful enough, but when i want something badly, i'll MAKE it work...unfortunately my "powers" don't extend to the screen itself; i had no idea that a little cord or wire ran through the hinge of my precious VAIO, and it has been damaged irreparably. what started as a disturbing sort of "flicker" while i was on my mobile with Livin' Simply this afternoon...turned in to a strobe light, and then finally, at the aforementioned hour, utter darkness.

i know, i know...you're not supposed to care about material things, but i do...and maybe not in the way you'd expect. my laptop meant the world to me for a dozen obvious reasons:...it was my lifeline to all of this blogging and flogging...it witnessed my first attempts at writing...it was my "ultimate" picture frame-- i had the screensaver set to a "my pictures" slideshow, and thus one of the plethora of pictures that takes up 900 mbs of space on my VAIO was always being shown off. this was especially lovely; many of you have received random emails or AIMs from me that commenced with, "i was just thinking of you! i saw your picture and it reminded me ____"...i'll miss that ever-present connection with everyone i've ever photographed.

those explanations pale in comparison to the ultimate reason why the loss of my VAIO makes me weep; in 2001, i was finishing my master's thesis and dating someone we'll call J. J had a brand new, unwieldy HP laptop, something he had extravagantly spent almost $2000 for the sole purpose of "keeping an electric journal". well, j had never saved a single document on it. when we started dating, i was in the habit of pulling all-nighters in the GW library b/c as you are all consummately aware, i only write at night.

august 1

NOTICE: fotolog is down thanks to tropical storms fucking over their servers down in FL. or something. bottom line-- haven't been able to flog in a few days despite numerous attempts...and a PLETHORA of new pics ;) sorrrrrry.

weight: 136
bodyfat: 21.8

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: KICKBOXING! :D

write: :)
read: oy, i need a new book

last type of cheese consumed: nada

i 'mell like: lavendar and thermosilk conditioner

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

i'm tired, so i'm going to be a lazy, useless blogger and answer some of your questions.

hey! don't look at me like that! i blogged a viciously serious, respectable post over on my REAL blog, HERstory. two political rants in a row over there...must be something in the vasa ;) this last issue (racist treatment of an indian photo-journalist...gah!) REALLY pissed me off. somehow, i don't think that matters to all of you; i have a sneaking suspicion that you loyal fans of her majesty's secret"diary" don't care for it when i get political. ;) oh well, your bad. :D

on to your demands (which appear as YOU worded them, sans my nitpicky editing):

1) in yr friendster pic, is that lube on your bed?

no. it is not. it is foot balm, you perverts. i'm trying to remove a toe ring in that now infamous picture. (if you are the last person on earth w/o a Fster profile, comment and i'll post the pic here) anyway, who takes pictures of themselves next to a tube of lube? blech. and furthermore, if you ARE taking such photographs, who are you bedding who doesn't do it for you, that you NEED artificial assistance? i'd submit that you change partners before you invest in fake enthusiasm. if one of you anonymous online perverts mentions a certain foul sexual act that requires such accoutrements, you shall be deleted. if G-d meant for your CENSORED! to go in CENSORED!, he would've put my CENSORED! on my CENSORED!

we at anna's online empire are strenuously anti-lube. what are we, cars? next.

2) how long did you live in DC

1999-2002. two years of MA-chasing at the district's least prestigious kinda top-tier school, two years of working there in various dignified roles that paled in comparison to my favourite job ever: VIP at club 5.

3) Does your bf know he's lucky?

july 30

weight: 135.5
bodyfat: 22

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: KICKBOXING! second day in a row!

write: :)
read: like a magpie

last type of cheese consumed: chedddddar

i 'mell like: bergamot, coriander, ginger, lavendar. oh, and thermasilk hair conditioner.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

it's taken me two hours to even START this diary entry...the posting window has been open, forlornly waiting, desiring content that i cannot provide. why am i denying typepad (and you)? b/c i can't feel the lower part of my body, damnit.

yesterday's KB class was fantastic b/c it was so different; it was an "emphasis on glutes" sort of hour, and so i had that pleasant feeling of accomplishment that you get when you tear apart a long-neglected muscle group. or two. my adductors and abductors ouch as well, you see. that's to be expected after almost ten days away from they gym. the tissue i think of as my legs (hamstrings, quadriceps, calves) was not sore at all, and that made life bearable. ah, wasn't THAT situation short-lived...

today's class was totally different; different instructor, different drills and way more sparring. i had three different "opponents" who were all asking for it b/c they were all punching (w/awful form i should add) my last nerve. despite my left ankle uncharacteristically giving out astonishingly early in class, i persevered (thank G-D for jordans, yo) and just tried to go easy on it...but these bitches were asking for it, and since we were exploring the gloriously celluloid-worthy world of kicks today, i let them have it. end result? OWWWW. like, way OWWWW. :( now my ass, hips, thighs, calves AND ankle ouch. sheesh.

next class? sunday. hold me.

i think i'll start doing lines of ibuprofen tomorrow morning, even as the case of vanilla silk soymilk-- purchased b/c it helps reduce pain associated with lactic acid build-up, supposedly-- rots. who was i kidding? a case? i only like one kind of soymilk, and that's chocolate. before one of you MENSA-admitted geniuses smirks and comments about how i should just mix in chocolate syrup or something, know this: THAT was what i was planning to do in the first place, when i went against my better judgment and BOUGHT the damned vanilla from costco. how was i supposed to know that when you shake it up and pour it in a glass, it looks like liquified boogers? or the water that drains after you've boiled rice? both of which i'm equally yucked out by. so much for that brilliant, evolved, northern california-apposite, utterly Davis idea. blech. give me cow milk or give me death.

this always happens; i inevitably tell myself, "just write three sentences about what you did today, the final one being, 'that's it, i'm tired and i'm going to bed"...then, i write assloads, making my earlier case of writer's block seem like it was delusional. starting is always the most impossible part, innit?

anyway, i'll leave you all with some linky and it's some primo shit, y'all. after leaving DC in disgust of 2002, i have been less political than i've EVER been in my whole life. a few inspired speeches at this week's otherwise pointless dem convention changed all of that. i'm feeling an energy, a calling, a fire that i haven't been warmed by in a long while. on four separate occasions in the last year, various friends and mentors have offered to get the kerry camp my resume; on four separate occasions in the last year, i demurred. i slightly regret such hesitations now...

wanna know what kind of unpresidential failure we have at 16th and Penn Ave NW? this kind:

The single greatest event of my life.

So I went to protest Dubya today, as he was visiting my humble little burg of East Lampeter, PA...

A friendly Kerry supporter named Mr. Shenk let us use his front yard to display our banners. Now comes the good part. After waiting around for about 45 minutes, the motorcade passed by us again. A few police cars, followed by a van or two, drove by. Then, a Bush/Cheney bus passed, followed by a second one going slower. At the front of this second bus was The W himself, waving cheerily at his supporters on the other side of the highway. Adam, Brendan, and I rose our banner (the More Trees, Less Bush one) and he turned to wave to our side of the road. His smile faded, and he raised his left arm in our direction. And then, George W. Bush, the 43rd president of the United States of America, extended his middle finger.

Read that last sentence again.
I got flipped off by George W. Bush.

A ponytailed man standing next to us confirmed the event, saying, "I do believe the President of the U.S. just gave you boys the finger." We laughed probably for the next half hour, and promptly told everyone we knew. Brendan actually snapped a picture of Bushy in action, but the glare and the tint of the bus windows make it difficult to see him at all. Nonetheless, it was the best possible reaction.

We pissed George W. Bush off. We are true patriots.

july 28

weight: 137
bodyfat: ?

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: bleh

write: :)
read: LOTS of Salon.com

last type of cheese consumed: hmm, none. all i ate was indian food today. weird.

i 'mell like: lavendar. strawberries. dove fresh deo.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

i'm blue.

i miss the right coast so much, it's manifesting as extreme fatigue. i know i returned home to rest, to reconnect, to revive...but now? i regret *ever* coming home. in march of 2003, i should've tried harder to stay instead of taking the path of least effort...how different my life would have been. how happy i would've felt to be bang in the middle of the energy and speed i crave.

when you miss something this much, it hurts. when you miss someone as well...you are misery incarnate.

my exalted, adored VAIO is on life support. it almost died yesterday, but today...today the patient awoke from a coma and almost seemed alive-- provided that i not move. any shift in position and the delicate position of the cursed power cord was threatened, and my laptop would be gone. despite this, i managed to eat, drink, and take care of other necessary things...but i spent most of the day frozen to daddy's recliner, furiously checking email and blog templates,

updating fotolog and catching up on things that i let slide last week...i still owe a few of you emails and phone calls. i know, i know. i am a disappointment as a friend and akka.

being online all day means i read a lot, all day. (even as i was getting chills from al sharpton's roof-raiser of a convention speech. my father would've loved it; after all, he's the man who taped jesse jackson's speech back in the 80s and then made me watch it until i could mimic it. daddy lowed him some oratory.)

what did i find? too much good stuff, which is what i named some slightly important part of my new blog aggregator. i had been using kinja sporadically, (that link shows you my "favourites", btw) but i wasn't thrilled w/it. i'd have twelve posts from Om Malik and then several more from each of my "closer" friends...but i'd get exhausted slogging through it and only "see" three blogs.

the whole reason i TRIED kinja was b/c the # of blogs i read daily has exploded, and i wanted to be efficient...somehow, just clicking my low-tech "links" worked better for me...but i haven't given up on telesis. a few blogs kept mentioning bloglines, and when i read a TON about it on kottke, i decided to try it. so far, it's better than kinja, though it was hardly intuitive when i first attempted to set it up. once i figured things out, it's lovely. we'll see if i keep it though. do any of you use bloglines? if so, what do YOU think? how are the rest of you accessing the blogs you love (aka my online empire ;) achtung: my bloglines "favourites" are not by any means complete...i just added the bookmarklet thing, and will be adding blogs daily, so if yours isn't there yet, keep your knickers from bunching, antsy-pants, it means nothing as nasty as "anna doesn't love, respect, reciprocate me".

okay, on to what i read today, that affected me (who made me anil fucking dash?):

Teresa, full of grace

"The pressure she faced has been building over a year that has garnered her a reputation as unpredictable, dangerous, batty, and, as she put it on Tuesday, "opinionated." Heinz Kerry has already shown that she is a broad with a set of brass balls. She has steadfastly refused to shut up, cursed at inappropriate moments, talked about abortion and Botox, voiced her frustrations with a Republican party of which she was a long-time member, pulled little Jack Edwards' thumb out of his mouth in front of cameras, rhapsodized about her heartbreakingly obvious love for her dead husband John Heinz, and been unable to control her habit of looking like a distracted housecat during her husband's stump speeches."

isn't that the most fantastic paragraph alive? i LOVE it. the rest of the article ain't bad either. suddenly i'm feeling a funny feeling in my tummy for teresa (miss kerry, if you're nasty)...could it be...respect? i'm batty too, damnit. i'm sick of the myth of "balanced" achievers. no one who ever accomplished anything DIDN'T have a fucking screw loose. go on wit yer bad self, miss terry. i support your right to be REAL, to live your life as an imperfect, fragile human. i not only support it, i demand and celebrate it. brava.

july 26

weight: 137
bodyfat: 22.8

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: arms, incl. REALLY torturous triceps, abs.

write: :)
read: new york post, on the plane

last type of cheese consumed: the kind mexican restaurants use...queso blanco?

i 'mell like: sandalwood, rose, hair stuff.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

so

damned

tired.

got off the plane a few hours ago,
rushed home,
rushed even faster to the gym

(b/c it was closing in 25 mins),

worked out

(b/c i'm a no limit soldier...how many of YOU travel all day, fend off DVT in coach and THEN hit the gym at midnight-ish? yeah. that's what i fucking thought),

rushed home to shower,
ate dinner,
am forcing myself to write this.

i'm so spent, i can't get excited to write. but i'm not passing out asleep either. THAT kind of fatigue. what can i say? my luggage was heavy and i schlepped it further than i normally do (my belowed north face weekend bag does NOT have wheels). i think a large part of it is an emotional exhaustion vs anything physical; i didn't want to leave. THAT'S how lovely a time i had, and all day i've been composing this post in my head, turning phrases to do my mini-break justice...so that i could get to this impotent moment. meanwhile, a few hours ago when i was trapped in denver, i would've given hours off of my LIFE to have my laptop working, b/c i was seething w/eloquence and wit. gah.

so much to tell you, just about today and my adventures on the plane (sweetly presumptuous white guys? sweetly protective black guys? skeevy, stinky, sketchy russian mafia? oh yeah. all that and then some.)
but i can't do it. this is my worst sort of writing, the kind i eke out b/c i owe it to a few of you who want something to read before you start your day...b/c i owe it to me to be consistent and i haven't diaried since the 22nd. sigh. so sorry it's so tatti.

i miss the right coast fiercely, and i woke up there today. this all-consuming, wistful longing shall only increase w/each passing day. is everything better there? as far as i am concerned, right this nanosecond, YES. ah, the bliss of long distance relationships. : /

my only consolationS? you guys clicked more ads on my blogs than EVER before :). that's hot. i very much appreciate the fiscal lowe.

the other? after eating at some of the best restaurants i've EVER been to...i only gained a pound. or three. vatewer. it all went to my breasts, so go ME. ;)
.
.
.

i swear to you i can't make up shit this good; this is an ACTUAL EMAIL that i received tonight:

IndianMatrimonials.com Contact Message:
---------------------------------------------------------

FROM : acqua_di_gio@hotmail.com
TO : Your profile: "suitablegirl"

SUBJECT : hi

ATTACHED PHOTO: None

Hi your profile sounds interesting...well ill tell u more about me...im coming to the end of meds school in march...just finished placements at harvard and mayo clinic...planning to settle in cali after

i stay very active...currently part of a tennis club....love music, travelling....ice hockey..

be great to hear more about u....Currently I am in LA for a bit....let me know.if u are interested in a phone conversation if u like...

im happy to give u a ring....i swear u wont be dissappointed if u got to know me...have alot to offer...u wont be wasting your time...

my email is acqua_di_gio@hotmail.com...

cheers,
armani

july 22

weight: ?
bodyfat: ?

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: away

write: :)
read:

last type of cheese consumed: whatever was in the amazing artichoke/SDT dip at dinner

i 'mell like: mango and mandarin. biosilk hair stuff.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

i'm exhausted. call center jerk asked, "uh, are you done crying yet?" actually, i am. but it took a few hours.

first, someone on my fotolog accused me of being the world's most evil bitch b/c i was insensitive to the victims of 9/11 (!). THEN, one of my favourite people called me out on yesterday's diary entry b/c i used an undefined pronoun that was confusing. fine. i'm an english minor, i should write better.

but that's not what made my mascara clump...it was this sense that someone i speak to DAILY, someone who--from the start--intuitively knew me better than some of my closest friends did ...didn't "get" me. and we all know that's the loneliest feeling ever. when you invest countless hours in an honest, delicate, risk-infused relationship w/someone, you take it for granted that they know you, that they understand how and why you tick. i was floored. maybe they were having a rough day. maybe i suck as a writer. i don't know. but this friend messaged me at an innoportune moment and i came undone.

so someone sweet took me to dinner at the only brewery i like. i had my favourite appetizer-- all carbs and cheese. fantastic. three glasses of raspberry wheat later, i was giggling and sweet. (this is crazy, y'all-- i HATE beer.)

what did i come home to? remember that silicon valley job at company X (which is NOT google) that i was soooo excited about? over-qualified for? ready to do? read on:

Hi Anna,

I received your voice message, but I was swamped with meetings yesterday.

I don't think your work experience and my open positions are enough of a fit, Anna. I understand what you are saying about transferrable skills, but under my current circumstances I need to have a sales team up and running very quickly, and that includes a working knowledge about wireless carriers organizations and consumer product selling skills.

Since the job will be home-based and a long way from corporate headquarters, the sales reps on the East Coast will need to be self-sufficient from the beginning.

Good luck in finding the right next thing for your career.

- Moron

i read this and had a saltwater explosion. shit rains in threes, doesn't it? i mean, DAMN. this woman was so difficult and so WRONG. it was just beyond unfair and i had HAD IT. the phone interview i had w/her was rough enough, but this? it was just WRONG. on so many levels.

i'd probably detail them if i were in a normal state and in a regular place, but i'm in neither. i'm away. and i just went to see "the bourne supremacy" at midnight, to salvage this whore-ENDOUS day. so i'm numb, but i no longer feel robbed. will you give me a night off and just believe me when i say that the silicon valley job story had WAY more layers that i don't have the strength to delve in to right herre? you will? thanks. you're the best.

oh, and bourne was sublime.

'night.

july 21

weight: ?
bodyfat: ?

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: away

write: :)
read:

last type of cheese consumed: romano, parmesan (reggiano), goat cheese (all at dinner)

i 'mell like: amazone by hermes

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

for the record?

22% is solid for my height and age (which are 5'6 and 29.5, respectively).

when i'm 40, you and everyone whom you know will still want to fuck me.

you want to fuck me right now, that's why you masturbate at your job at Cisco in san jose, commenting on my blogs when you should be making sure Juniper doesn't gain anymore market share.

finally, if you knew anything about the 997, you'd know the answer to your own stupid question.

thanks for amusing me, now go back to stroking your dwarf penis. you are denied and dismissed.

.
.
.

new fotolog. go, if you like. :)

july 20

weight: 134
bodyfat: 22

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: :)

write: :)
read:

last type of cheese consumed:

i 'mell like: chance by chanel

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

watching "Amelie" on a 50-inch Sony plasma TV is like being reborn. :) did i mention the surround sound?

suffice to say, i am "away" and doing very well:

1) i am getting smothered with lowe

2) i had nachos for dinner

3) i got shorts for $.99 at old navy (coming to /closet, soon!)

4) i had nachos and a salted margarita for dinner

5) i tried my first McFlurry...couldn't decide between oreo and m+m...so i got half of each. YUM.

yeah, it's been lovely. :) :) :)

oh, and to those of you who wonder why i continue to "put myself out there" when retards like "call center guy" describe their wildest and most impossible dreams on my diary et al...read on, i got this in GMail, and have been swooning ever since:

anna,

I love reading your blogs and fotologs. They're really cool. I commented on HERstory a long time ago, and Im not sure if i mentioned this, but your website actually inspired me to start my own - yes you are my xanga muse. This was way back in Nov last year. And then I think Xanga just worked for me. So if you notice on my xanga - ive linked your fotolog and your Typepad, i hope you dont mind. My friends absolutely love reading your stuff.

Well , thanks again. Hope you are having a good week.

Take care n Keep in touch

TSM

okay, if that wouldn't make YOUR day, week, life? you're not human. :)

july 18

weight: 134
bodyfat: 22

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: rest (yesterday was h/q/c/ad/abd...ow)

write: :)
read: this. have YOU read it yet? well, why the fuck not?

last type of cheese consumed:

i 'mell like: coriander and bergamot, melon lipgloss

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

i'm really tired...had a ton of errands to run today, and i hurriedly ran them after my mom irritated me to the point where i couldn't stand being in the house.

when she got home from church, i felt awful for her...the mercedes is having serious issues and if that isn't bad enough, she got REAR-ENDED by some white-trash, would-be marcia clark who tried to coerce her to sign something she whipped up on a piece of scratch paper that said, "i only see a small scratch on my bumper, no other damage." are you fucking KIDDING me?

the mercedes is a tank. a venerable S-class from the days when mercedes wasn't chrysler and engineers ruled the company. if my mom's body was pushed forward and then snapped back, she was hit very hard by the piece of shit chevy. who knows what damage that bitch caused. dumb whore. may you and the inhabitants of your double-wide, law-and-order-watching, toilet of a trailer all be rendered sterile so that you don't annoy petite, innocent indian moms in their laura ashley sundresses, who are driving home from church. gah!

and here's MY mom.

"oh, i don't know if i should call her insurance company. she looked like she wasn't very well-off...i think that's why she wanted me to stipulate about the scratch...oh my, what if this is my fault somehow...she said she thought i was moving, even though we were at red light..."

"did i SERIOUSLY come out of THAT???" i shrieked, pointing at her womb. "b/c you and i are SO not related. how do you let people treat you like this? and why are you so fucking compassionate? she rear-ended YOU. SHE is at fault. you are NOT this stupid. you are NOT one of these pindu indian moms who doesn't know how to balance a checkbook or drive on the freeway...what the FUCK? you are so lucky i wasn't there to rip her a new asshole to go w/her chutzpah!"

"what would that have accomplished, latha?"

"well, I FOR ONE would be happy. seriously ma...she hurt you, i can see that your back is affected...you're being so meek. stand the fuck up for yourself!"

"i don't know..."

"it was not your fault. and you are calling her insurance. quit taking the blame or responsibility for shit you didn't do. geez."

july 16

weight: 135
bodyfat: ?

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: rest

write: :)
read: Pledged: The Secret Life of Sororities by Alexandra Robbins

last type of cheese consumed: CHEVRE

i 'mell like: lavendar and a bit of banana republic's W, oddly enough. i've had that tiny bottle for five years?

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

i did nothing of consequence today...except make macaroni and cheese w/GOAT cheese. wow. talk about decadent. i once had something similar at dean and deluca in dc, and it sucked. my version was ridic. good. :)

i spent most of the day revamping blog templates and testing out my newly-discovered knowledge of HTML. which is fine. i want to capitalize on this new-found confidence w/geek shit before i :

a) lose interest...or
b) start believing GT that it's really like "crossing over to the dark side".

anyway.

i didn't hear back from silicon valley company X today (i sent my resume exactly a week ago), though i truly thought i would. am not thinking about this. i'd just irritate and stress myself out, b/c i'm finally REALLY excited about a job. think happy thoughts, anna...think...happy...

ah, yes.

*bliss*

last year, deep tried to get me to admit that the cayenne was something i'd crave, if not now, then at some distant time. not. i was overwhelmed with livid indignation when porsche had the unmitigated GALL to intro a...*shudder*...SUV. how dare they pollute that sacred bloodline and brand. gah.

i told deep that the 911 was the only daily driver for ME. then deep got dirty..."what about your godson?"...damn. why you gotta go and play the baby card??? ah yes,

"his mother never lets me drive him anywhere unless she's with, so we wouldn't be in a 2+2 anyway."

this stumped the my D for all of a nanosecond. his eyes narrowed in triumph,

"but what about when YOU have kids?"

"they can ride w/their father until they're old enough for the passenger seat."

"you'll drive a 911 when you have a kid?"

"hell yes. i'll bet it's safer than a P.O.S. american SUV."

"but what if you have a few kids...surely the cayenne would be optimal then."

this conversation continued until deep finally decided FOR me that i would drive the 911, and my nanny would follow me everywhere in the cayenne. nevermind the fact that i never planned on paying someone else to tend to my hallowed offspring. that boy is my undoing. he knew the visual of a porsche caravan was something i couldn't resist. i smiled and this meant i was done bickering with him. :)

well.

unbelievably, i managed to find the only other brown person who loves porsche more than deep (and me!). b/c of this proven and devout lowe, i'd occasionally feel sad for S...since one day, he'll have to drive some sedate german sedan while i get to burn Turbo Look II wheels w/the top down.

then i'd remind myself that:

a) he's MUCH better w/children than i am
b) let's face it, he owes me at this point b/c every pollywog is a MINIMUM of 21 fucking months w/o alcohol...oy
c) he's already HAD two porsches!
d) and that the reproductive successes would be happiest w/him.

oh, and THEN there's all that self-serving bullshit about how a happy mom is a fulfilled mom is a good mom...well, let me state this for the record: if i'm putting ceramic brakes to brutal and frequent use, i will be very happy and fulfilled. so yeah, the kids ride w/dad. he's better suited for that "are we there yet?" crap :)

but what's this? will daddy have a porsche AFTER all????

i do believe he WILL. that's an artist's rendering of the FOUR-DOOR porsche that's in the works. i can't believe this article discusses brand dilution-- i think a sedan is WAY more logical than a fucking TRUCK, but whatEVER. so there you go S darling...yours has four doors, mine is topless. and much prettier, thanks to oval headlights and sexier styling. all hail the 997. it gives me a funny feeling in my tummy. :)

other links that caught my chestnut eye?

this article from the nyt made me want to move to bangalore, b/c it sounds like such a hot place. some of the pubs remind them of london? wow. outsource me, baby.

my friend dinesh sent me this article, which announces that HOOTERS is opening in india. i'm just shaking my head at this...i don't think of most indian girls as being so breast-y. beyond that, who's going to work at this joint? i feel like they'll HAVE to replace those horrid orange shorts. with what, though? churidhar pants???

hey S, here's MY get-rich plan, let's open up a cafe where all the waitresses look like virgin sita-savitris in white saris and salwars. if you pay extra, you get to douse them in water and watch them shiver. so it's kind of like a strip club...except it's bollywoodesque. debauchery and purity...what a heady cocktail THAT is...i think my inner sorority girl is remembering too many wet-t-shirt contests...that i never entered. don't worry, no one missed me OR my perky chest. ;)

july 15

weight: ?
bodyfat: ?

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: KICKBOXING!

write: :)
read: "who moved my cheese?" in 40 minutes.

last type of cheese consumed: string.

i 'mell like: chanel 22. and shiraz, probably.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

day commenced with much promise. i actually filed for something i've been putting off for six months. so go me.

i went to the gym and suffered.

i went to borders and edified.

now? not feeling so well. red, red wine, ya din' make me feel sooo fine, even if you are the key to unlocking very long, painful posts.

i'm going to bed. with UB40 stuck in me head.

july 13

weight: 135
bodyfat: 21

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: KICKBOXING, back and shoulders.

write: :)
read: chapter 25 of "the purpose driven life". my mom insists that i read this.

last type of cheese consumed: string.

i 'mell like: lavender baby oil and clean.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

yes, boo-boo, i did go to my kickboxing class today. and yes, i am sore. i was throwing punches like someone deserved it. when my instructor commented, "wow, your right hook looks vicious today!" i told her, "i'm aiming at someone i can't stand." and then i smiled sweetly at her. perky whore. i should've said, "that's b/c i'm pretending my punching bag is YOU, you dumb twat." i hate her. she's the worst instructor ever. she's arbitrary and capricious. she doesn't play fair. in short, she reminds me of every PE teacher i suffered under.

i almost didn't use this to my advantage; i preferred instead to avoid her like ebola, but that meant less cardio for me and one less opportunity to be a vicious banshee for an hour. so enter our happy solution: i pretend SHE'S my opponent. my old martial arts teacher would be proud. i can execute ten side-kicks with my right leg w/o touching down, something i could never do when i taped my hands and bruised my legs on concrete-like punching bags. (yes, i favour my right when kicking, my left when punching).

what's hilarious is watching other, lesser mortals try and do this when we have to kick at our opponent 25x w/o stopping. perhaps i got my revenge after all; b/c i started doing this anomalously impressive little thing, she had to keep interrupting herself, and she was getting sooo exasperated..."no, you don't have to do that. you can put your foot down and do it slowly, one kick at a time. that's for advanced students." and then, "wait, wait, wait...i didn't say you had to kick like that. you're not...no...stop. please, the point of this isn't to lose your balance and fall. okay, go. no, not like that. you GUYS!" :D did iiiiii do thaaaaat?

she fucked w/me during the 15 mins that are devoted to abs though. she KNOWS i hate doing push-ups period, push-ups on the stability ball are like a minor sort of hell. guess who was doing fifty push-ups off a stability ball? hateful twat. weren't we supposed to do ABS? unless she's going to argue that it was sort of like doing "the plank", it wasn't anything close to an ab exercise. just b/c you use the fucking ball, it DOESN'T MAKE IT AN AB EXERCISE. yeah, i'm still vexed. ;) i'll quit boring you though. oy, i'm turning in to a dumb jock. all i care about is my body fat, my lean mass, my protein intake and being at the gym. when i start taking it in the ass (steroids, that is...fucking pervs) then this has all gone too far.

july 12

weight: 135
bodyfat: 21

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: quads, hams, adductors, abductors and calves.

write: :)
read: Everybody Was Kung Fu Fighting Afro-Asian Connections and the Myth of Cultural Purity by Vijay Prashad

last type of cheese consumed: good, greek FETA

i 'mell like: lavender baby oil and eucalyptus

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

i had the world's funniest AIM convo w/one high-level Net-SAP (read: net-crap) official whom i adore...within it, i exhorted him to reclaim his right to masturbate, b/c it's being infringed upon by one selfish deluded bitch. that is all you need to know. :D that should also explain the current AIM away msg that i'm rocking... ;)

i gained five pounds b/c i started taking this new medicine about 8 weeks ago...yesterday i started taking something that usually causes weight loss as a side effect. so this should be fun. whatever. i am now in that happy space where i know that someone vants me, and i can get away w/being rotund thanks to it. and oh yes andrea, it's rotund. i went from vertical lines on my abs five months ago to...a very happy belly that is on its way to buddha-dom at this carb-and-love-laden rate. ;) i kid. i don't give a shit what the scales say. i just don't want to lose any lean mass, and i want to be healthy. and that means kickboxing tomorrow.

ack, cardio. i'm very sore, and i really want to lie down...so i'm going to go. there's yesterday's flog to comment on, and i answered a bunch of questions in the next post, so worry not, you'll be entertained. :) 'night.

july 11

weight: 134
bodyfat: 22

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: rest (arms yesterday, w/extra triceps)

write: :)
read: HTML in a flash. i shit you not.

last type of cheese consumed: string

i 'mell like: lavender baby oil, KMS hair conditioner (just washed it) and jasmine.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

why so happy? why, b/c the FLOG is a year old!!! can you believe it? insane! before i had a blog, or two, or three, before i knew all of you, i had a little fotolog. :) there are SIX NEW pictures up, and the BEST part is, they have RIDICULOUSLY long captions, just the way you like them. the best caption is here, where you can read my "matrimonial ad". ;) ah, just go. you know you'll love it...i wouldn't have 110,000 hits if you didn't. :)

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

i'm all "writed" out from captioning. can i get away with making you a random list of things you've missed since i've been "offline" for a few days? no? too bad. ;) here goes:

1) i had lunch on thursday at google, w/a googler. the most signif aspect of this: i was ON-TIME. first time ever! i'm SERIOUS. this is *huge*.

2) the googleplex is where smart people go when they die.

3) the food at google is RIDIC.

4) having said that, i think the fontina on my potato/herb pizzetta made me a little queasy.

5) i retract the previous remark. i adore google. they (and their chef) can do no wrong. it is obviously my inferior gastro-intestinal system, and not any fault of the big G's.

6) yes, i AM this loyal, if i love someone or something very much. :)

6a) the googler encouraged me to apply for a job at google that asked for an english major AND knowledge of HTML.

6b) i looked forlorn, but then got vexed, "what english major knows fucking html? only google asks for such impossibilities!"

6c) the googler replied, "you know html. you wouldn't be able to monkey w/your blogs so much if you didn't. trust me."

6d) i respectfully disagreed w/the googler, but didn't do a convincing job, b/c my mouth was full of the most luscious apricot tart EVER.

6e) after leaving heaven, er, the googleplex, i went to SF via 280 and ended up near very-beloved pac bell park. there was a new Borders across from it. sleekest, prettiest borders EVER. i went in. i speed-read a few books that are pointless, bridget jones-esque self-help titles. then, i ventured over to the ONLY section of a bookstore i've NEVER dared visit...

6f) ...computer books.

6g) i didn't even know how to find what i was looking for. i didn't understand why "html" books weren't in the same area as MS Access and MS Office. then i let my brain click and whir unwillingly to life, and i realised that those are programs or something and html was a language. or something.

6h) i found another area of books. all on networks. still no html.

6i) finally, shelved before perl and java, html.

6j) i picked up HTML "in a flash".

6k) i held my breath, though at the time i didn't know that i did.

6l) i gasped (and exhaled) when i flipped through the first 20 pages and realised, "my G-D! he was right!! i DO know html!!!"

6m) i felt like a PIMP!

6n) no, i felt like a GEEK!! which is better :)

6o) i...(sit down for this one)...purchased my *first* computer book.

6p) i crossed over to the dark side. ;)

july 6

weight: 135
bodyfat: 22

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: 30 mins on the elliptical

write: :)
read:

last type of cheese consumed: string

i 'mell like: lavender body butter, night blooming jasmine

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

i don't feel like writing (and i know you won't care, b/c you don't feel like commenting!), so i'm ganking this from andrea. i must say that for some of the questions (fave foods etc) i could've written 3x as many items. anyway, edify and enjoy. soon you will know where to order my birthday cakes from-- and if you know what's good for you, you will get yours from there, too.

:)

THREE THINGS THAT ARE IMPORTANT TO ME:
1. truth
2. justice
3. the people i love, whether they are blood or not (most often latter), IRL or virtual...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THREE THINGS THAT ARE NOT IMPORTANT TO ME:
1. how much something costs
2. where someone works
3. anonymous comment-leavers
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THREE PLACES I WOULD LIKE TO VISIT:
1. kashmir
2. paris
3. tahiti
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THREE WEBSITES I VISIT DAILY:
1. GMail
2. Fster
3. Fotolog/Typepad (where i host this blog)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THREE PARTS OF MY HERITAGE:
1. indian-malayalee-orthodox
2. indian-malayalee-hindu (dad's side, rel. recently...rel. to 2 millenia)
3. sephardic jewish (i have to reach back 2000 years...didn't want to be boring)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THREE THINGS I LIKE ABOUT MY BODY:
1. legs
2. eyes
3. hair/lips (tie)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THREE THINGS I DON'T LIKE ABOUT MY BODY:
1. a lack of symmetry
2. a lack of ab definition
3. any hair that is not an eyelash/eyebrow or on my scalp
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THREE THINGS ON MY DESK:
1. i don't have a desk.
2: but if i did, it would be a glass of water
3: and things in water (fish, flowers)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THREE THINGS I'M DOING RIGHT NOW:
1: watching conan
2: eating a mango my mom cut
3: shivering my leg b/c i can't sit still, ever
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THREE THINGS I WANT TO DO BEFORE I DIE:
1: host SNL
2: get published
3: be someone's mommy :)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THREE THINGS I CAN DO:
1: speak publicly, in front of 1000s, sans prep or notes
2: look good in pictures, even if i have a 101 degree fever
3: get my way at restaurants, hotels, car dealers...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THREE WAYS TO DESCRIBE MY PERSONALITY:
1: charismatic/sucks the air out of most rooms and amphitheaters
2: glittery
3: disordered
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THREE THINGS I CAN'T DO:
1: touch or cook meat (i puke)
2: tolerate pain/needles (i faint)
3: swim (i...um, drown)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THREE THINGS I THINK YOU SHOULD LISTEN TO:
1: the pixies
2: marketplace, on NPR
3: Puccini's Gianni Schicchi
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THREE OF YOUR ABSOLUTE FAVORITE FOODS:
1: santa fe nachos, w/extra chipotle + atomic salsa
2: myore masala dosa/north indian chaat: pani puri et al
3: my traditional kahlua/mocha mousse/apricot layered birthday cake
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THREE THINGS YOU'D LIKE TO LEARN:
1: how to swim
2: how to write, read and finally speak malayalam w/o sounding valley
3: how to make my own website. html? mt? wtf?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THREE BEVERAGES YOU DRINK REGULARLY:
1: Water, from the fridge door (i.e. TAP)
2: decaf cafe au laits
3: chocolate protein shakes
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THREE SHOWS YOU WATCHED WHEN YOU WERE A KID:
1: late 70s spiderman the cartoon, sesame street
2: 80s smurfs, bugs bunny and tom and jerry
3: 80s-90s? 120 minutes, cosby, family ties

july 4

weight: 134
bodyfat: ?

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: no, not today, but i should note that more kickboxing was done on july 2, and i've never been more sore in my entire life than these last two days...owwwwww

write: :)
read: da vinci code

last type of cheese consumed: um...what kind are on doritos?

i 'mell like: demeter's ginger ale

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

happy birthday dear amreeka.

a bigger happy HALF birthday to anneke.

i am 29.5, y'all. dig. and thanks for all the fireworks. they were soooo sweet. ;) can you believe it? in mere months i'll be...thirty. WOW. my body fat shall be in the teens again, too. i'll be one of those people who was in better shape at 30 than they were at 18. i'll also be so old that (hopefully) aunties and uncles will leave me the fuck alone.
.
.
.
what did i do to celebrate the fourth? i'm as much a patriot as the next blogger-with-her-only-sibling-in-active-military-duty...but i didn't go to a fireworks show or barbecue or anything. i did, however, miss DC fiercely...and when i watched the festivities on the mall i missed it even more. lest you accuse me of not doing enough to be mindful of our nation's birthday, i cried when clay aiken sang "G-d bless the USA". and i fucking HATE clay aiken, so you know that was some sincere saltwater. freedom isn't free. whether or not i watch pyrotechnics, i'm aware of that sobering truth on a near-hourly basis.

despite the current retard-in-chief,
despite the war in iraq,
despite the gang-raping of the constitution and
despite the fact that she's not perfect...

this is the greatest country on earth. 'nuff respect and love.

july 1

weight: 135.
bodyfat: ?

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: oh my LORD. *TWO* cardio classes

write: :)
read: "something borrowed" by emily griffin, the first 123 pgs

last type of cheese consumed: mozz

i 'mell like: lavender, mango+mandarin

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

brand spanking new fotolog x2...yeah, as in DOUBLE the pictures b/c i played around with upload times. oh, and did i mention that they are all CAPTIONED? you're gasping in shock. no, no interminable "caption coming soon" bullshit. no impatience. no waiting. i wrote pithy tidbits for each of the dirrrty dozen, as i was posting them. now comment accordingly, b/c comments mean love, and i don't have SHIT planned for my half-birthday, better known to the rest of you as independence day.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

my body wants to impeach me after today. b/c we're about to change to a new gym class schedule, there are no handy-dandy flyers for me to consult these days (don't even ask...my gym appears to be quite lackadaisical)...that's why i innocently showed up at my kickboxing class an HOUR early. no worries though, i had a great workout...

lest you think i'm intelligent, let me disabuse you of that misconception...i THOUGHT i was in my KB class, an extra special kickboxing class, and though the instructor was different, i just told myself she was a sub. a sub who had us doing soccer drills (my fave!), step (wtf? had never done it before) and stability ball stuff. we did a few combinations and some fantastic roundhouses, but that was it. despite the meagerness of KB-like activity, i decided that what little we had was good enough for me, i rationalized that since it was a slightly "off" KB class taught by a sub, she probably got roped in to it at the last minute, and so she was incorporating shtuff from her usual class with us b/c it was what she was comfy with...

june 30

weight: 135.5
bodyfat: 22.5

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: REST

write: go look at HERstory! :)
read: tbd

last type of cheese consumed: FIVE cheeses on my pizza at lunch

i 'mell like: cool citrus basil (think mandarin), faint white musk

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

something exciting this way comes...i checked my now-practically-defunct AOL account and there was this shocking email from a girl who wants to interview me, for an article she's doing on SA bloggers. since i have fallopian tubes, i'm an EXTRA special SA blogger. if you don't know what SA means, it's south asian, btw. yeesh, keep up already...

so i write her back, leave her my AIM SN, and she contacted me a few hours ago-- very fun girl. i liked. anyone who gets me to quote janet jackson's "nasty" by my second sentence is a wee bit o' magic, let me tell ya ;) when i asked her why the hell she AOL'd me, she snarkily pointed out that THAT is what happens if you follow the "email me" link from my blogs. um, hello...MAJOR fucking malfunction. we all know that anna has GMail. and she even has a pacific GMail account just for blogs and flogs, via "suitablegirl". so i've bugged typepad to see what on earth i didn't do that i thought i did, b/c i could've swore i gleefully changed the AOL to the G...anyway. i'm confusing and irritating myself, so we'll cease w/that...

i'm sorry y'all, but all my GOOD writing went to the real blog today/tonight...so this is going to be ASS. leave now. i'm serious. i'm giddy that someone is vanting me to talk about my blogs, flogs and dogs and i'm tired b/c it's four in the fucking morning. that's all i have to say right now. oh, and i'm sore b/c i've been brutal w/myself at the gym this week...that reminds me, i have kickboxing class tomorrow. good thing you helped me remember.

now you go remember to sign/pin my guestmap (lower right), click an ad if you so desire, and we'll be all square w/our to-do lists. ;)

.
.
.

CONFIDENTIAL TO M.R.: you are forever sending me playlists...you even burned me a CD. if i had access to the 300-some discs i left in nyc, i'd burn the following 2-disc set for you:

:::songs to soothe an angry heart:::

if it isn't love- new edition
lovefool- cardigans
here's where the story ends- sundays
front row- alanis
cowboys and angels- george michael

i still haven't found what i'm looking for- U2
closedown- the cure
everyday is like sunday- mozz
fake plastic trees- radiohead

"guess i'll see you next lifetime"- erykah badu
three strange days- school of fish
song of the siren- this mortal coil
obscurity knocks- trashcan sinatras
this is how it feels- inspiral carpets

say something- james
Only love can break your heart- St Etienne
i wanna be adored- stone roses
so hard- pet shop boys
the only one i know- charlatans uk

set adrift on memory bliss- pm dawn
ladykiller- lush
aisha- khaled
dancing with tears in my eyes- ultravox
phoenix of my heart- xymox

tainted love- softcell
kiss them for me- siouxsie sioux and the banshees
i love you goodbye- thomas dolby
king of pain- police
don't you want me- human league

"i want you back" jackson 5
ladyfingers- luscious jackson
wave of mutilation- pixies
last night i dreamt that somebody loved me- The Smiths

june 29

weight: 135
bodyfat: 22.7

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: 30 mins on the arc trainer/cybex...sigh. FINALLY i'm doing cardio again...

write: :)
read: an entire US Weekly about mary-kate-- say it w/me now, "anna, you are LAME"

last type of cheese consumed: none

i 'mell like: mango, mandarin and strawberry/rose lip balm

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

am so tired. mainly wrote this b/c:

1) i went to the gym, wanted to note that, especially since i begged myself to do cardio for the first time in months and it worked

2) i'm losing the weight, bitches :D

3) i want to be a good girl about posting regularly, which leads us to...

4) i updated both WIMP (a SECOND fucking night in a row!!) and "closet", with different posts regarding the same item, a very hot white purse. now this new WIMP is a verrry special one; it's a "guest" WIMP. we'll be taking a look in to my SISTER'S purse instead of mine. fun! ;)

closet gets 100 hits a day, no comments. no matter. i have fun telling you where i got things for dirrrrrt cheap. one of these days, when i nail my dream job writing for some magazine, you can say you knew me way back when my blog had a fake "allure"/"lucky" stuck to it. :D

5) i FINALLY captioned the flog pictures from june 18/the wedding in nyc. they start here, but the only caption you need to read is the "dot head" one. you may find that here.

okay. i'm exhausted from all this captioning and working out. to the land of nod i head. mwah.

p.s. i got rid of the TTLB ecosystem thing (pointless) and added this WAY cool "guest map", where you can "pin" me, and leave a comment or whatnot. basically this fun little micro-time-suck lets me see how global my readership is...if you're in siberia, and you're reading me, you'd put a little pin on siberia, and then i'd get all excited...oh whatever. it's at the bottom of the sidebar, under the ads (which you guys have actually been clicking this week! WOW, thank you! i made $10 in three days...and while that seems odd, know that some clicks are only worth $0.05-0.50 and you'll realise how hot that actually is...ah, i need a job, don't i?)

p.p.s. DAMNIT theodore, my gym closes at MIDNIGHT pst. stop leveling baseless allegations at me! ;)

june 28

weight: 135
bodyfat: ?

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: TIRED after yesterday, resting for KB tomorrow :)

write: :)
read: a lot of Salon.com, as you'll see...

last type of cheese consumed: none

i 'mell like: Creed.

Marriage is love.

owwwwwwwwwww. who was massively sore today? yeah, i was. my arms have never been so ouchy...i discovered a tricep press at the gym last week, and today i was reminded of this bit of enlightenment constantly...ibuprofen was consumed...

why does my body feel so bad, to paraphrase lame moby? why, b/c i'm on "threesies". i was only doing two sets of reps...now i'm back to my old three. have i said, "owww" yet? i have? damn. it'll be worth it when i look all solidly athletic again...it's already worth it, i love my new "i'm starving all the time!" game...in my addled mind, you only have three excuses to eat like a panthi:

1) you're preggers
2) you have a tapeworm and can't help it
3) you're working out extensively. if kickboxing AND abs AND lifting all on the same day isn't extensive in your opinion, well rot in hell.

i'm debating eating right now. the fridge still bears proof of veena's quite recent visit. yum. i'm so lucky that my mom is a bomb cook...i know everyone says that about their mother, but i have empirical data from neutral, unbiased parties to back my ass up ;) caveat pig-tor: if you come over, you better be able to tolerate spicy food though. we're not poons.

i had a ridiculously prodcutive day. i applied for seven different jobs...y'all got to see the eighth, two posts below :D ...now THAT was pure fun. i hate writing cover letters but today i was sprinkled with job-hunting pixie dust, and the words were flowing easily. and no, just b/c i blog compulsively, that doesn't mean i can write drivel on command to make reading my resume seem appetizing and necessary.

june 23

weight: 134
bodyfat: 22.5

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: legs/adductor/abductors (yesterday= arms)

write: :)
read: Burned Alive: A Victim of the Law of Men by Souad...ALL IN ONE SITTING!

last type of cheese consumed: greek feta

i 'mell like: lavendar baby oil and dove "fresh"

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

random bit of odd news at the start: THIS diary-blog is the FIRST return on MSN search for the term, "i want to have nice abs". :D i lowe it.

having typed and lowed that, wednesday was kind of an emotionally taxing day, but surely you recognised that from the last post. no, he didn't die. he just stopped being my friend and it made me cry. a lot. i'm not a heartless bitch. if you lacerate my heart, it bleeds salt.

b/c i was so upset, i left the house for a few hours per theo's brilliant suggestion, and ended up at Borders. i did something i haven't done in months, maybe years...i read an entire book in one sitting. it's linked above and it was devastating, engrossing and harrowing. honour killings are something which always made me cringe, now i'll have a voice and a pair of eyes to haunt me when i come across the term again...

this honour killing was in the middle east, but i was obviously thinking of india and pakistan as well, when i read it. :( the dehumanization of little girls and women occurs in far too many countries...we don't have a monopoly on that shit. i don't have to look within or nearby to know it's there. over and over again, i had to stop, close my eyes, and acknowledge how lucky i was, to be born to a father who wanted nothing but a girl, to treat like a princess...
.
.
.
i'm back at the gym. i've gained almost five lbs thanks to a new medication i'm on, and i'm neutral about this development. it's very disconcerting to no longer have abs and suddenly jiggle in places that previously needed victoria's secrets...i think the latter lulls me in to a complacent sort of satisfaction over the former. having breasts is fun. jiggle jiggle. and right in time for clinton's book!

so yes, went to the gym. i say this as i stare at the box of mithai from the wedding on saturday, the bag of spicier doritos that stands, top agape to my right, and the detritus of an old-fashioned glazed donut that practically made me purr (donut? fucking food emporium in midtown! grr!). ain't no point in trying to eat healthy when this family is reunited for only the 2nd time in as many years. suddenly, there's less fruit in the baskets and no more organic baby salad greens in the fridge. my sister eats CRAP and my mom obliges. sigh.

speaking of fat and eating...or not eating, rather: just read an article on the mary-kate and her anorexia. it cited some haunting, horrific statistic about FORTY PERCENT of 1st and 3rd-graders wanting to be skinnier?!
are you fucking kidding me? when i was in the first grade, my body was the LEAST of my interests. playing princess leia at recess, now THAT was an interest. ;)

i'm sleepy and i want to go to bed, but before i do, i'll leave you with some final, severe nastiness (told you it was a sucky day!); and this time it REALLY bothered me, in a far more visceral way than that bastard whom i told to provide me with cunnilingus while i'm yeasty...look what showed up on my flog today:

mike @ 2004-06-23 22:21 said:

keep drinking dot head. i sure you need to with that tool you are dating.

i wrote our resident queen-of-the-comments/"amelie freak" about this via AIM as soon as i caught it this afternoon-- she was so sweetly sympathetic, something to the degree of, "how awful that he insulted your bf!" yes mimosa, that is not very nice, indeed. however, the "tool" and i both agree that we are hardly worried about what anyone-- especially some anonymous, testicle-free motherfucker-- thinks of us...but "dothead"? now THAT furrows my brow something fierce. probably b/c i spent way too much time agitating for justice at south asian non-profits, many moons ago... :(
.
.
.
p.s. at the rate y'all are clicking, google will cut me a check for those stupid adverts in, oh, SEVEN MONTHS. come ON. surely there is SOMETHING worth clicking? no? damn. this blog is NEVER going to pay for itself!!! they lied! ;)

june 21

weight: 135
bodyfat: 22.5

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: shtill tooooo tiiiiiired

write: :)
read: everybody was kung-fu fighting by vijay prashad

last type of cheese consumed: buffalo mozzarella

i 'mell like: mango and mandarin, hair spray

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

soooo tired.

had so many things i wanted to type, yet i have no motivation to write this evening/morning...

the day flies when your mom is off b/c your little sister is home for one of her twice-yearly visits. to all you optimistic idiots who think i'm too harsh on my mother at times, re: favouritism...you are soooo WRONG. veena is obviously and clearly the child she prefers. luckily for all pterodactyls involved, i just roll my eyes at them and go back to interacting with my laptop, which is on the kitchen table right this second. the vaio's placement provides me with front-row seats for this egregious display of parental ass-coddling, so my eyes are somewhat sore from all the circles they've moved in, but vatewer. i'm not being delusional when i type that this ridiculous pageant of preference doesn't bug me; no parent ever adored or spoiled a child the way my father indulged me, so part of me is secretly, gladly amused that veena is getting some love.

also, i am not going to complain about all manner of mallu delicacies which are being trotted out constantly b/c she's home. moms brought home stuff from india i thought was long-consumed...and suddenly, magically, it exists again, in abundance. fine with me. i can afford to gain more weight than she can. ;) i'm not the one defending our nation. :D

nine days on the right coast and two days of sleepless weddings and shopping in palo alto meant that recovery commenced last night and then greedily consumed my entire today. how did i go from working out like a champion a few months ago to needing a nap just so i could sit in a chair and surf/sip chai? truly, my pathetic-ness knows no limit.

speaking of pathetIC, this article in the NYT fairly begged for exposure and pontification. if ever there were a reason to detest the shiv sena, this is it. what kind of retard doesn't want to encourage girl-on-girl action??? and who told the moron quoted that lesbians do it in the bathroom? damnit, the bathroom is for gay men. as far as i know, my lesbian friends don't even have sex ;), so what on earth is he thinking???

now that i've offended several people (i wish), i'll cease and desist with my exploration of what is probably a tatti fil-im to begin with...i mean, the title alone..."girlfriends"? i can't type when i'm shaking my head. i shake it at the fil-im makers and also myself-- after all, i promised two sentences ago that i'd quit it already. ;)

in other news, my REAL blog has FIFTY-THOUSAND mortar-chucking hits!!! holy CRAP that's impressive. if you asked me wayyyy back in sept of '03, when, if ever i'd have that many visits...i'd have said, "in a few years?" HA, haters. i re-type, HA. 50k ain't nothin' to be fucked with :D

oh my lord, the sun is starting to rise...one stupid nap in the evening, and this is the price i pay for indulging myself so wantonly. i feel like i'm fighting off some nasty bug, or perhaps my allergies...you know, that liminal, anxious place where you're not quite sick, but you could fall that way and fall hard, any second? yeah, that's where i'm at, right about now.

i'm looking at the rarely-used front doors of this house. my two suitcases are still there, just inside of them, imploring me to unpack them. fat chance, marked-down bastards of samsonite. i'm going to BED.

oh, and before i do, i'll leave you a pic of me and my seester with the newly-wedded couple from the FIRST wedding i went to on saturday, the malayalee one...

june 18

weight: 135
bodyfat: ?

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: TIRED after long trip

write: :)
read:

last type of cheese consumed: ricotta, yesterday

i 'mell like: nivea and tangerines

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

my sister is home :)

this has been an uber-hectic week; i extended my trip back east, arrived home about 24 hours ago, and now veena is here. we both made it a point to be around for a certain wedding in fremont, which will occur in...oh TWELVE hours. after all the hustle and bustle of DC-NYC-DE-PHILLY-DC in eight days, we have...more hustle and bustle. at least i got a day (a friday, to be pacific) to rest in between.

so.

i'm going to bed. i have to be up in six hours to put ANOTHER sari on, after i straighten my hair. and put on makeup. etc etc. go look at the flog if you're bored, at least you'll find six new pics. :) 'night

june 8

weight: 129
bodyfat: 21

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: after interval training and abs yesterday, rest.

write: :)
read: bibi, the magazine

last type of cheese consumed: none

i 'mell like: biosilk hair conditioner, nivea

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

i am beyond wired.

i'm not hyper or jittery, just very awake. it is 3:20 am, and i have to leave the house in almost exactly two hours. i should be at the airport before 6 for a 7:10 am flight. this should not be a problem today. i feel awful for my mother, who will be getting four hours of shitty sleep tonight, b/c she's my blue van. don't leave comments suggesting that i should've availed myself of the REAL blue van-- if you are brown, you know that your parents would spew invective at such waste and insult. i know she wants to hug me good-bye.

lists were made and checked, a queen size sheet was doubled and then thrown on the family room floor.
small sheets of my hello kitty notepad arranged carefully in rows: wed night, thurs day, thurs night etc.
outfits folded and placed on each, blocked out so that i could make sure i had shoes for everything :)
i've got this shit down to a science, and i wouldn't leave anything to chance, not on a trip THIS important.

is there any point in laying down now?

who knows.

i'm staring at my lone pair of seven jeans, a shirt and really cute knickers that have "hottie" embroidered above my left thigh. "accident" underwear, my friend calls it...the kind of frill you want to be caught in if they're cutting your clothes off at a hospital or in an ambulance. there is a tinge of the macabre to my thoughts, if i'm plotting what pretty knickers i should wear in case of disaster; i'm not afraid of flying but this time i almost am...

gold stiletto sandals. two slender straps that will cross my polished feet. they will be an interesting footwear choice with the jeans et al, but i'm a pragmatist right now...the other sandals all have buckles, and will annoy the shit out of me and everyone behind me in line when i'm asked to remove them for security. it's all laid out, all plotted, all ready to go.

am i ready to go?

i don't know. i guess. i feel curiously empty, but that probably has to do with massive disassociative proclivities right about now. my nerves have yipped like a high-strung chihuahua for most of the evening, it's like the lap-rat finally lost its voice, either that or my nerves overloaded and blew up. part of it has to do with how LONG tomorrow/this day is about to be; i leave, only to turn up at an airport 100 miles away. then i sit for over three hours and THEN i get on my real flight from CA to the right coast. i don't mind being sleepless now, it will help me pass out at noon. i really don't want to be awake for 5.5 horrid hours. gah.

by the time i retrieve my trusty checked samsonite (which is making its tenth trip across the country today), it will be late. my sari is coming with me on the plane b/c my mom reminded me that i've had atrocious luck these last two years w/lost luggage. the back-up outfit may get sacrificed, but not THIS priceless bit of worm spooge, oh no. it is new, and it is dear and it is gorge. so. one sundress, one sari, one metrosexual stuffed monkey from BABW in sf to abuse as a pillow. a copy of anna karenina. all my medicines. a pashmina b/c OCD me cannot bear to imagine where airplane blankies have been (*shudder*). my moleskine, my jewelry...these are the things a good, paranoid girl packs in her carry-on bag. all that, plus extra knickers.

am i on a knicker kick? sadly, boo-boo...yes. half-a dozen new pairs in as many days, each cuter than the last. i remember when my sister and i were younger and giggled more. "look how cute my knickers are!" we'd squeal as we flashed. the only person who gets such treatment these days is eileen perfume. and she always indulgently says, "yes. they are adorable." this is when we aren't inspecting the areas of our inner thighs which are visible underneath our mini-skirts in front of the wall-sized mirror. both of us eat ridiculously well and work out extensively. both of us mutter darkly about how we should've dressed like whores when we were uber-conservative connecticut-prisses in high school. "my body at 16 was WASTED on me." seriously.

before a few of you dig out the lotion and kleenex or apple pies or whatever your perversion is, you should know that the aforementioned antics take up about 5% of our time. we spend the rest talking about men, makeup and mercedes. sorry. cease and desist with your hands-on reactions, then.

anyway. i digress. i'm starting to feel tired (perhaps diary has conditioned me to) and i might just lie down for an hour.

i'll be back on tuesday night...we'll see how lovely the wi-fi is at my various locations. if it's adequate, i'll try and blog through. if it's not, then click the damned ads already. another $75 and google will cut me a fucking check. yay. be good and leave comments, i'll still be receiving them somehow. :) i'll miss you. bye...

june 6

weight: 127
bodyfat: 21

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: all TEN. no abs.

write: :)
read: babyville.

last type of cheese consumed: feta

i 'mell like: lavendar and blueberry lipgloss

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

ach. i'm so not inspired to write. for one thing, i'm exhausted after a very brutal hour at the gym. for another, i'm just tired in other ways. i got an unexpected email from someone "difficult" today and that sucked my toxic tolerance RIGHT out, just in time to prep me for a grueling phone call with an ex-.

sigh.

still, i'm thankful that "mystery friend" reached out. it's a start. suddenly, my emotional rollercoaster is spiked with NoS...network television is inundating me with pictures of the burning world trade center, jet fuel-created flames billowing out, searing the lungs of whatever few survivors are left. there are details that i have forgotten; it was a *cool* september morning, the sky was *that* blue, i initially thought that only one tower would fall...i want to crawl under my down comforter and just breathe. the beloved, cherished, long-awaited-for center of my universe was sipping coffee at starbucks underneath that elevated cemetary, his life about to change forever, more than most of ours did.

does it make any sense to get upset over something that happened three years ago? when i didn't even know him? should my skin prickle this quickly? should breath rush out of my lips? do i have a right to this horror which surrounds me like hissing snakes winding their way around my shivering body...?

yes.

b/c i almost lost him, before i had him. b/c life is that fleeting. b/c as we like to remark to each other on AIM...the circumstances which governed our lives were so unpredictable, the connections that bind us so tenuous...that it's a miracle we discovered the other, at all.

perhaps this is love: to own someone else's past as if you were actually there, suffering with them...to worry about them, the way parents naturally fret for their children...to weep inwardly at the struggles they existed through, to get to now, this, you. to want to snatch them away from the rest of the world, and hold them so tightly that every cell in your body is exclaiming in unison, "thank G-d you are here, and you are okay, b/c you are so, so very loved." to beseech G-d on a daily basis for the only petitions that ever mattered to you in church; for all things good and profitable for his soul...for a faithful guide, a guardian of his soul and body...and that he may live out the remainder of his life, in peace, free of danger, wrath, distress.

i don't love myself enough to go to church properly, but for this...? now i understand why people my age traditionally flake on religion, but come rushing back to it once they squirt out a reproductive success; to hell with you (lit. and fig.), this human that you love more than any other needs all the spiritual guidance and protection one can possibly sign up for...and it's a big cycle isn't it? i implore G-d for him, my mom's entreaties are spun around me. we're all okay, if someone religious loves us...that's what this documentary is about.

the man who was chief counsel at cantor fitzgerald, was one of the most severe burn victims to survive...and survive he did b/c once his wife was handed his salvaged wedding band-- a nurse hastily rescued it before they cut it off-- she grasped that potent totem next to her heart until it was threaded through a necklace that would keep it there for as long as she needed. through her faith-laced love (or is it vice versa?), she willed him back to life, plain and simple. THAT'S what love is, to me, THAT'S what marriage is, too. that faith, devotion and strength. the innate decision to never give up, to never say good-bye, to love another so consummately...to know that even in the midst of heart-breaking tragedies that threaten to steal away half of your soul, there is an unbreakable core of light within, one that will sustain you and act as a lighthouse for others. now, at 3am, i am reminded of where the light comes from...suddenly, two decades of mandatory church services seem genius. "Arise, go your way: your Faith has Made you whole." indeed.

june 3

it's june 3.

i weigh 127 lbs.

i didn't go to the gym but i did walk my dog for 2 mindful miles.

i smell like Demeter's Ginger Ale.

and this post is over, b/c i've had it w/my on-its-last-legs Vaio, for crashing twice, for destroying my diary post so viciously, for making me stay up longer than i really could or should. sigh. i spent the DAY offline, and i wanted to tell you all about my little adventures getting a new social security card and...and...about South Beach progress...and this cool new thing that's DEF going in my purse...sigh. i had a rant about bridesmaids and...and...oh well, whatever. nevermind.

good night. :(

june 2

weight: 128
bodyfat: 21

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: lats. deltoids.

write: :)
read: Vogue.

last type of cheese consumed: string.

i 'mell like: lavendar, spearmint + eucalyptus

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

OMG! OMG!! OMG!!!

GUESS what i got in the mail today! GUESS?!?

i'll just TELL you...the Pixies LIVE via one very adored SAS. i almost didn't get this starck-little package of indie rock love. know why? it was misdelivered (newman!), and my NEIGHBOUR snatched it accidentally, thinking "Anna" said "Audrey". whatever. once Audrey came home, an envelope was walked over with apologies, and then all that starck-whiteness was destroyed as i greedily shredded the wrapping to the best present i've gotten in a while. ahhhh i LOVE getting music in the mail from brown men with hot taste. it's GOOD to be ME. :D :D :D

SAS? you slay me.

*swoon* ;)

may 31

weight: 129
bodyfat: 21

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: REST (did quads/hams/calves last night)

write: :)
read: in full bloom ...i LOVE it!

last type of cheese consumed: herbed chevre

i 'mell like: lavendar, baby oil, white musk...everything a 12-year old loves.

i'm going to try and conquer the invading insomnia before it establishes a camp here...i took a sleeper. just a baby one. cut it in half, even. it's working beautifully...i'm drowsy right now. i just want to be better about writing my diary, and i don't want to lose track of work-outs. i went three times last week (go me!) and i started this week off properly by going last night. oooh, tomorrow's the kickboxing class i love. now i'm excited. :)

ranju's apparently reading and wondering how to get oneself fired up enough to go daily. hmmm. why DO i go to the gym...let us count the whys:

1) i am consumed with the potential for cheese to form on my ass. i will fight that shit 'til the BITTER end
2) it makes me a much sunnier person. call it a natural anti-depressant and call it a day
3) it means i look better in all this nanga-summer-fashion
4) i feel and therefore eat healthier...no doritos if i'm putting this kind of effort in at the gym
5) my bf always wished for a brown sorority girl with calves. may it always be so easy to grant his wishes

those reasons may not work for ranj, since she has an uber-cuddly ro, and tons of cheap, yummy restaurants all over chicago...but they do work for me. and they are helping me stay focused on this, my ?SECOND year of being a gym rat. ranj works out at bally's...i could never do what i'm doing here, there. bally's DC was in a grunged-out basement...it was horrible and dank and there was no parking at all. it SUCKED. i picked a gym that is less than an eighth-of-a-mile from my house. that way there'd be no excuses...i have to pass it before every right turn into my neighbourhood. also? it has several HUNDRED FREE parking spaces. so i thought about what stopped me before, and made sure i tackled those obstacles first. i found a gym that is sunny and shiny and happy. a place i'd LIKE to be at. and i found a goal. last year, my goal was NOT to humiliate myself at soccer. good goal. (no pun intended)

anyway, i could babble incoherently further but i'm so high right now, i'm fairly sure that the english language wants its letters back from this dopey word-abuser. so we'll end things right here. i hope you all had lovely memorial day weekends-- what did YOU do? i fought w/a narrow-minded carnivore. you can tell me about YOUR antics via comments, in fact, i implore you to do so. :)

may 27

weight: 131
bodyfat: -

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: REST (asthma attack :( and i'm sore as shit after 2 hours of sleep)

write: :)
read: in full bloom ...i LOVE it!

last type of cheese consumed: none.

i 'mell like: lavendar and jasmine.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

sad, horrible things first. :(

i'm militant about how parents today are solid fuck-ups w/regards to how they are destroying my children's future playmates and competitors...they don't believe in saying "no" or discipline of any kind. while i usually rant about such things b/c i'm disgusted by a child's respect-free demeanor or behaviour at church...the inability to deny your offspring or teach them about boundaries has other unbelievably tragic effects, as proven here. i'm just shaking my head. for those of you who didn't click, the article is about a 3-year old toddler who DIED of OBESITY.

"Heart failure, caused by obesity, has killed a child aged just three, it has been revealed...Specialists...have also seen four children "choked by their fat" who need breathing assistance to treat sleep disorders caused by blocked airways. The Commons Health Committee warned that obese children could become the first generation to die before their parents."

*shudder* that caught my attention well enough...but upon skimming the page, when i saw another detail about the dead baby, i came to an immediate, screeching halt:

"The Daily Mail reported that the three-year-old who died of heart failure was a Bengali girl from east London who should have weighed around 2st 4lb (14.5kg), but instead had a Body Mass Index (BMI) which equated to around 6st (38kg)...Dr Nigel Meadows, a consultant paediatrician at the Royal London Hospital, told the newspaper: "It was a shocking case. You don't imagine your kid is just going to die of obesity. The parents were devastated. Some may say the parents are responsible, but if a child is demanding food it can be very difficult to refuse it."

are you kidding me? how are the parents NOT at fucking fault??? that baby didn't get fat all by herself. even as i'm outraged, i'd be a liar if i didn't admit to another set of feelings; i want to come up with so many excuses for these poor, tortured souls. yeah, i've already called myself out on my own self-interests...if they weren't indian i'd waste little time in aiming scathing invective their way...it'd be 90% rage, 10% pity...but they are brown and worse, they're BONG...so it's suddenly 70/30. :( ah, weep.

not only am i a part of "malayalee" on Fster, i'm part of "bengali ek", too. i'm often accused of a ridiculous affinity for punjab and all things that originated in it...which i won't deny...but my DNA is practically coded with bong-love. after all, my first cousin neta-ji's real name IS subash. i always called it kolkota. the chatterjees owned my heart in a way the mehras never could. and i am forever insisting that "s" is really "sh".

sigh.

do they use "bengali" interchangably for "bangladeshi" at the beeb? if so, are these people who had perhaps experienced famine or hardship, and is THAT why they couldn't say no to their whimpering baby? i'm REACHING, here. didn't they somehow know that they were killing her? i want to just heave with sobs at this situation. it's simply awful. just like my inability to have a suitable amount of compassion for a set of parents until i knew that they shared blood with my idol, tagore. i suck, but they suck worse. they aren't off the hook just b/c they're brown, but they did torture me for about 10x longer because they were...another chip at the model minority myth, and a family paid for it, with tragedy. :(

i don't think i can write, after that.

may 26

weight: 132
bodyfat: ?

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: REST

write: :)
read: a short short by mimosa j

last type of cheese consumed: string x 2

i 'mell like: i stink. figuratively, of course.

nothing like having insomnia and then thinking, "oh, i'll be POSITIVE and avail myself of this rare opportunity when EVERYONE is asleep, right-coast-types included, and look for jobs sans interruption!" ha.

again i say, ha. if me at 3:30am could speak to me at 12:30am, i'd tell her not to fucking bother. what a horrific waste. 461 jobs found after an advanced search, each pored over carefully, for a final list of FIVE, all of which SUCK, no wait, TEABAG. i should've obeyed my lesser, more flakey impulses and taken a steamy shower complete with exfoliating salt scrub. i should've watched a Sex and THE City deeweedee. or wrote something even, perhaps the end to this story.

then again, i easily argued against myself re: that option for killing time, by brutally reminding myself that all of four of you have read it, and only two of you have commented.

ugh.

my worst "real post" yet then, i think. fickle unwashed fucking masses who give my blog 300-500 hits a day...ONLY when i weep and splay myself over my dead father's grave, with much gnashing of teeth and rending of my already skimpy garments do you comment, do you praise, do you love. bah. where would i be without my sinner saint and mimosa, the girl whose writing is so exquisite that she makes me weep at my indisputable shittiness as a scribe in unjust comparison.

i'm in a STELLAR mood tonight, minnows. >:(

i want a drink SO FUCKING BADLY but i cannot have one. do you know why? b/c i'm on FUCKING SOUTH BEACH that's why. i do believe that the lack of carbohydrates in my diet over the last 48 hours has turned me in to a lunatic BITCH. eek gad it epiphanies all over me...is my addiction to sugar THIS sinister? this powerful? THAT is the ONE thing i haven't had in 48 hours and i'm FUCKING MISERABLE.

ice cream, what i would do for silky pista kulfi sliding across my tongue, caressing my mouth with cool jade sweetness. AAAAAAAAAACCCK. i want the fresh strawberries that are rotting as i type, the mango that will no longer be sour, hell no longer be AROUND in two weeks when i'm FINALLY allowed to have fruit again, post-detox...i want it all. oh heavens, do not remind me that PASTA sits in this deity-forsaken abode. linguini, sublime food-as-toy singing to me from the pantry..."come, anna darling...four minutes of a salted spa inside a calphalon pot and we will twirl joyfully around your fork, drip rich, blood-red marinara in to your eager pasta-vampire mouth, sate your very fucking soul." :(

feed me, someone. even i can't stand me now. this SUCKS! why was this so easy last time??? i suffered NONE of this carb/sugar-angst and lost eleven fucking pounds! answer me, universe, WHY???? and...silence. sigh. all that remains is to to go to bed and dream miserable fucking carbohydrate-saturated, wine-marinated, ice-cream-dominated dreams. IF i can sleep. gah!

may 25

weight: 132
bodyfat: 22

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: o ye haters... i WENT! one HOUR of kickboxing, torture abs and quads/hams/calves. 70lbs each

write: :)
read: "Eats, Shoots & Leaves"

last type of cheese consumed: none, but i should've, it's the first day of SB

i 'mell like: lavendar baby oil, hair conditioner and jasmine

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

go me!!! though my allergies are slaying me, i went to the gym for the first time in 40 days.

eh, it's not as dramatic as that sounds...if we consider 15 days of severe bronchitis, over 10 days w/the bf...then there were only two weeks where i could've gone, that i didn't. anyway.

it felt soooo yummy to be there again. oh my, i almost forgot...what am i typing, today wasn't my first day back...i went last night! i wanted to be able to start my week off properly, so last night i went at 11pm (they close at midnight) and did arms and abs. i was really proud of myself for going, so i knew that would carry over and inspire me to make the kickboxing class today...and i did. it wasn't easy...i'm still coughing, so i was sucking on all the Hall's extra strength lozenges i could find in the civic.

my lung capacity is shit, so intense cardio like that was a ridiculous challenge...but i did it. there were moments when i just stopped to breathe. and then i jumped back in. i was really pleased with how limber i still was, and how by the end of class, i was keeping up w/the "intermediate" kids. feeling smug, i walked out of class at 5:30pm and decided to do legs. guess what? i did them at the same weight that i stopped doing them at!! i actually set the weight at 50, to take it easy on myself but it wasn't effective at ALL...60...still easy...i was astonished that i needed 70 to feel it. one solid year of working out, and even a month away from my prrrecious gym couldn't erode all of my progress. i don't look as svelte as i did a few months ago, but i'm still as fierce, and that almost means more...the lines will come back, the fire never left. :)

enough gym talk. i don't think i can help it, b/c i'm all healthy today! commenced south beach, now that i'm off antibiotics and am no longer really suffering. this time i can do it, b/c moms agreed that i was well enough to, and that's how i knew she wouldn't sabotage me. she was actually being SO supportive, she asked me to meet her at costco yesterday so that i could put the SB-stamp of approval on all the shtuff in her cart. she might do it too, in a few days. me? i don't have that luxury. two weeks from now, i'll be on the right coast! if i go through "sugar detox" now, i'll have way more will-power during a trip that will be full of rich food and good restaurants. (the first phase of SB takes two weeks)

anyway.

i can't believe what a good girl i'm being today. low carbs, no sugar, and i'm actually going to get in bed when i'm done posting this. i'm really tired. forgot how satisfying that gym-induced exhaustion can be... :)
i really can't get over how far i've come-- i started going to the gym in april of 2003, in preparation for soccer, which commenced at the end of june. i never played sports in h.s. or college, and i wanted to be stronger in time for that...my first sport! this means that for 12 months, i actually used my gym membership! for those of you who knew me in DC, i KNOW, i'm floored, too. you see, in DC, Bally's suckered me in to a shitty multi-year contract...mine lasted 3 years. guess how many times i went in over a 1000 days?

guess!

.
.
.
.
.

eleven times!

yeah, you read right. three fucking years and i didn't even go once a season. unfuckingbelievable. to go from THAT, to THIS...all i can do is sit here and be really thrilled w/myself. i don't come from athletic parents, and my mom constantly hated on me for this; "that membership costs too much!", "you hardly go!" (b/c i went 4x one week instead of the six i had been), "if you walk the dog, it's the same thing", "it's not worth it", etcetera...so NOT paying attention to her negative tape was more of a struggle than most of you probably realised. what made me strong enough? vanity. :D i wanted to be purty. and have calves.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

confidential to DG: i hope it went well :) i was thinking about you!

may 20

weight: 131
bodyfat: 22

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: not even possible, with THESE lungs

write: :)
read: JUST COMMENCED "Eats, Shoots & Leaves"

NEWEST CONTENT: flog, go VOTE.
music: the smiths, "please, please, please let me get what i want"

last type of cheese consumed: NONE

i 'mell like: lavendar baby oil and night-blooming jasmine. i may be sick, but i'm not DEAD.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

what's this? a finally-captioned flog that is finger-licking good? indeed, it is.

obviously i'm not eating chicken in THIS pic, which did NOT make it to my fotolog...but i am thrilled to be communing with a decadent cinnamon roll that was purchased just before leaving monterey, as you can see.

i need to stop posting pics w/o captions...my devotion to inertia means that the flog remains word-free for DAYS. and we all know you come to my online empire for the prose, right? i mean, it's not b/c i regularly post semi-nude or otherwise porn-y pics of myself, is it now? i will happily inform you that the meatiest, dirtiest, most information-laden caption may be found here. i know several of you are lazy, and like direct "chutes" to the good shtuff vs time-sucking ladders. ;)

there is ONE new picture-- a very special one on the main page that begs for your attention and opinion. go. thanks. :D

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

after days of incremental amelioration, i took a "chute" back to poor health. :( yes, yes, i know, i should've taken the Z-pack instead of amoxicillin, but whatever. between the hyper-sensitive and UBER-unhappy nose piercing and my useless lungs, i was in for a painful sort of thursday.

i really thought that i was near-recovered; i went out yesterday and nailed several errands, including a costco-run...and we all know how much energy it takes to navigate COSTCO, as you grab Sex and The City's final season on DVD, the book i mentioned that i'm reading above, Mach III razors and oh yes, the two gallons of milk and five dozen eggs that moms asked that i fetch. so much for being competent and useful. gah. BREATHING was my struggle today, as i heard my embattled lungs wheeze with every breath. i think i might have actually wore myself out between inhaling, exhaling and talking to one Livin' Simply on the phone...i PASSED OUT at around six and didn't wake until it was almost eight. evening nap? sans drugs or tryptophan? after nine-hours of sleep the night before, that ended at NOON? wow. writing that even blows *my* mind. six hours of existing, and i was plum-tuckered out. :(

moms is worried.

for the first time in days, i'm running a slight fever. my eyes are glassy and the cough is persistent. she really wants me to wrench out the diamond stud in my nose. "your nose is bleeding, i think you might have to." upon seeing the despondent look on my already unhealthy face, she relented. "okay, maybe one more day. we'll watch it. but it doesn't look good", she cautioned.

sigh.

happy thoughts. end on happy thoughts. like...

i'm in love
i 'mell great
i have new lipgloss thanks to Ulta
the entire first half of season six shimmers at me, from a lime green DVD case...

:)

there. now i'm smiling. :) the first item alone accomplished THAT.

to those of you who called when i was passed out, sorry. to those same people and all others i owed calls to, my mom cautioned that the more i talk, the more i fuck with my throat, the more miserable i am. so my sincerest regrets at being fone-flakey.

okay. time to let you guys get back to debating LAFS on andrea's favourite "Forum". ;)

may 18

weighed: 131
bodyfat: 22

kcal- :)
vasa- :) i'm getting SO good at this!

gym: *cough*

wrote: :)

read: i'm an illiterate tard these days...all of my friend's blogs are consuming me

last type of cheese consumed: NONE

i 'mell like: lotion.

i'm tired. just spent over an hour writing a little sum'n for HERSTORY and my cough meds make me sleepy so i'm quite out of it. i'm just trying to be good and disciplined about "diary", so i'm writing even though i'm sorta "all writed out".

SOMETHING of note must have happened today...

oh yes! reconnected with my cousin SHAWN from nyc. haven't seen/spoken to him since 1991, so that was ridiculously edifying and entertaining. he caught me up on what's going on with my OTHER dozen cousins in ny (marriage. and a shitload of babies under the age of three). i can't figure out how i'm related to these people, but i think it's somewhat distant b/c i know they aren't my second cousins. we're only THIS "close" b/c my dad and SHAWN's uncle were practically best friends. it's sad to realise that if daddy were still alive, i'd be wayyy closer to this side of my family. :(

sigh.

that's a sobering thought.

SHAWN and i are part of that sad fraternity of people that don't have Daddies. i've been selfish thanks to this membership, and i haven't paid enough attention to my favourite cousin, SME in d.c., whose father is lying in a hospital, struggling valiantly...one of our mutual friends AIMed me today and asked if i knew anything, and how i was taking it. i opened up to them and told them, "honestly? it reminds me of MY daddy." and then they hastily apologised/changed subjects. they didn't have to do that. it's right to confront myself re: such things. i shouldn't be in denial about my uncle's suffering, even if it reopens wounds that will never close.

this was supposed to be an upbeat, practically throw-away post...

suddenly, i'm less sleepy. :\

may 17

weighed: 131.5 but my BMI is solid, mothafuckas...
bodyfat: 22

kcal- :)
vasa- :)

gym: *cough*

wrote: :(

read: anna can't read. pity.

last type of cheese consumed: string!

i 'mell like: fabric softener. it's what my termal knickerwear 'mells like.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

that would be today's favourite AIM ;)

anyway.

it's 4am and i'm starting to wonder if i'm developing a minor anchor-crush (how apposite for a DeeG!) on Hari Sreenivasan, b/c he's suddenly on my long-adored World News Now, the wacky, "we don't give a shit b/c no one's up right now except Anna that insomniac" newscast that ABC doesn't get nearly enough credit for. he's filling in for the coloured anchor Tamala. nice. brown boy for black girl. whatewer. i'm just amazed and mesmerized by hari; i met him in 2001 at SAJA and i remember thinking, "THIS is our successful news presence? and he's reppin' the dirrrty south? damn." as i shook my head with disappointment. that hari had a meesha that my DAD would've been proud of...AND he was wearing terrible man-sandals. i don't envy you y-chromes. most man-sandals BLOW. anyway, between the massive moustache and the sad-sandals, hari was not my cup of kappi. i thought he was rockin' the worst sort of fob-forward look. and then i promptly forgot about him.

fast forvard three years: hari has NO facial hair (halle-fucking-lujah! unless you're a proper sardar, don't fucking grow any. ever.) and he's wearing a FANTASTIC lilac dress shirt with a tie that makes me swoon with a fabulous sort of joy. fob-forward? more like metrosexual masterpiece. eek. he is GREAT. he obviously works out. he looks wonderful and his delivery style ain't bad either. his banter w/the regular anchorman was NOT annoying and he did the sports cast like he knew his shit. damn it, i'm PROUD of my boy. go hari. :)

lest any of you have the unmitigated GALL to suggest that i don't lowe my MAN b/c i waxed on about hip hari, do sod off. the point of all that is to put to rest for once and for all any rumours that i sweat the garam dr. gupta. my interns wanted THAT pipe dream to work more than i ever did, kids. ;)

speaking of my BOYFRIEND. happy one month anniversary, nazaar. if one month feels like this what will a lifetime inspire? *swoooooooooooooon* :D

speaking of my BF again, but this time on a less gleeful note: no, nothing is happening in september. my maid of honour can't make it and that means i won't do a damned thing.

may 15

weighed: 130.5 ABUNDANT!
bodyfat: 22

kcal- :)
vasa- :)

gym: ha! i still can't breathe!

wrote: :)

read: i'm being a mindless tart. watching DVD instead of reading...

last type of cheese consumed: hmmm. oh, wow...NONE. i really AM sick.

i 'mell like: chocolate, for some reason. yup, sick.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

my eyes are burning from allergies.

my cough is terrifying enough to send my Rani whimpering for her Dogloo® (and HER bark makes people cry).

but i'm fine. happy. beatific, even. Sex and the City's entire fifth season is in the DVD player, i'm dressed like a bum, it's so sunny outside...i have the house to my happy-assed self, b/c moms is at the movies w/her best friend ellen...(i told them to see "Mean Girls" b/c E and i loved it a few days ago)...

it's so lovely to be in love. 3:30pm
.......................................................................

it's four hours later, and i'm even happier. :) why? i'm planning my WEDDING. i keep pinching myself. this is real. it is happening. i have a reason to look at "the knot"! i'm not lame. i'm getting MARRIED. eeek.

okay, fine, i don't have a ring yet...but if i want a SEPT wedding i can't wait for such formalities. ;)

more later...7:26 pm :) :) :)

may 12 (updated as of 5pm)

weighed: 130.5
bodyfat: 22

kcal: :( sick!
vasa: :)

gym: ha!

wrote: :)

read: Fierce Invalids...by Tom Robbins

last type of cheese consumed: string.

i 'mell like: lavendar baby oil and feria hair conditioner. i'm RIGHT out of the shower

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

haven't done this in a while, and today i was adamant that i would, no matter how short a post. so much is going on with my life, i know that i'll regret not recording it all...anyway, it's all about getting back on that blog-horse, right? :)

had a mopey kinda morning thanks to my fotolog. sigh. people can be so mean...but i found the silver lining. i used to tease my sister MERCILESSLY about her smile...now i regret every word, after someone posted such vicious nastiness about mine. if only for this new understanding, those tears were worth it. i'm sorry Veena. i love you, and i think you're beautiful.

i am feeling better, despite flogs and this cursed bronchitis...in fact i'm feeling well enough to go see my lawyer, eileen perfume, pictured above :D what does a broke-assed, out-of-work kid like me need a lawyer for? ah, my pretties...if only you *knew* ;)

april 29

weighed: 130
bodyfat: 20

kcal: :)
vasa: :( wine, wine and more things in which we find virtue.

gym: :(

wrote: :)

read: not a DAMN thing. i'm too busy falling in LOWE
heard: travis, U2, some trance

last type of cheese consumed: california goat!

i 'mell like: i'd have to kill you, sorry. it's MINE.

april 26

weighed: 130
bodyfat: 20

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: :(

wrote: :)

read: gitanjali and the newest Ulta catalog

heard: hoobastank "the reason, "ek ladki..."

last type of cheese consumed: romano

i 'mell like: minty toothpaste...and white fowers

:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|:|

my, my, my...haven't done this since april 9. my entire life changed, and diary didn't record ANY of it.

sigh.

most of you have surmised...what's hinted at, not so subtly here. it's about a boy. an amazing boy. but this is a proper diary entry and i need to keep it desultory, and that boy makes me swoon all abstract, so we'll leave him (briefly!) for now...

-haven't gone to the gym in over 2 weeks. :( feel bad about that.

-replaced one "best friend that i'm not speaking to despite the fact that we're...best...friends" with another...

-prayed for an uncle who is languishing, a world away, in a coma...

-oh, and i met a boy.

my days are hyper-emotional now; haters come out of the fucking woodwork, when G-d graces you with something like this. then there are the other, less fixable reasons for tears; friends who disappoint you in horrifying ways... but there's balance isn't there? one friend hurts me, another returns to my life. the lord giveth, of this i am keenly aware...but this should mean that i'm not this distraught when he "taketh away".

the dog and i both have horrific allergies.

i may be moving back east.

i've decided NOT to cut my hair.

i can't string together two coherent fucking sentences, let alone a functioning paragraph, so i think i'll end this mutual torture right about...now. love makes me go retarded? who knew? maybe it's just extreme fatigue (look at the time). maybe i'm not a good diarist. whatever, i'm a good flogger, and there's a BRAND new flog, waitin' for you. check out WIMP while you're surfing, if you so desire. i'm desiring some shleep.

april 9

weighed: 130
bodyfat: 22

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: BRUTAL quads, hams, calves (70-80) + torture abs, supersets. threesies.

wrote: :)

read: the miracle of mindfulness

heard: the stills, the walkmen

last type of cheese consumed: CHEDDAR

i 'mell like: this amazing eucalyptus spearmint shtuff, biosilk hair conditioner

i'm TIRED. i want to go to BED. but i read this article, got pissed off, blogged about it, and now i fucking CAN'T SLEEP. gah. >:(

pooh on the bush administration, for fucking with my beauty sleep. bastards. oh, and iraq sucks too. :(

+ + +

today was good friday. i made it to the last part of "lamentations" at the local greek orthodox church, b/c i am greek orthodox. not jacobite. or catholic, though i def. front like it, at times. the service was gorgeous...got there in time to see the priest remove the body of Christ from his tomb, before "burying" it. ah, you had to be there.

i was supposed to have lunch with eileen perfume today; apparently i am coming down with the flu. so while i sat here and cooked with a fever, some pizza in the east bay went untouched. :( oy, i just realised that this has been one sad-emoticon laden post. i will perk up then.

or not. i'm chatting with manish and he and i are discussing this bullshit war, and my little sister's potential role in it. he just informed me that a brown soldier died last year. do i feel this more keenly? YES, i do. that could be my little sister. all lives are sacred. this loss just terrifies me more than the others...

+ + +

okay, happier thoughts. a new flog is here:

+ + +

i started blogging 2.5 hours ago...got swept up in a three-way...chat...with ennis and another fellow blogger...i'm going to post this, since it already sucks, and i don't think it's going to get any better. :) sorry. it's just a really good chat! it's also a really good possibility that i ain't sleepin' tonight...

april 6

weighed: 128
bodyfat: 21

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: :(

wrote: :)

read: the miracle of mindfulness

heard: radiohead, the pixies

two NEW pieces of utterly useless information for you!

last type of cheese consumed: gruyere

i 'mell like: this amazing eucalyptus spearmint shtuff

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

i'm fighting sleep, and i'll need it desperately tomorrow. lots of driving, and that's never fun when i'm seepy. :( wish moms hadn't STUFFED me with massive dinner and THEN fresh strawberries and extra-rich whipped cream...i was unable to stand, let alone exercise.

today i took the sick civic in for maintenance, went to costco (yee-haaa!) and ran other pointless errands. i'm such a dork, now that i've had an oil change/tires inflated, i'm all excited about how the car is going to run tomorrow. sigh. was any civic ever loved this much? when it wasn't modified? i don't THINK so.

i got to talk to two boys i care about verrrrr much, for 90 mins each. that's always nice. :)

i'm definitely feeling sunnier these days, maybe it's the FOOD and SLEEP...who knows...but the point is, i'm way less of a hermit, and that's always fun. hell, i'm still all giggly from having fun this weekend. and i'm in a way more zen space than i've been in MONTHS. at every turn today, i was slaughtered by a different epiphany re: being blessed; "i'm SUCH a lucky girl". it's a lovely feeling to be totally plugged in to the moment, to see what's actually surrounding you, to recognise all that you have been offered by the universe.

:)

and on that gooey note, i'll go to bed.

hey, i'm allowed to be all trippy and hippy and dippy and whatnot-- this is northern california and i was wearing BIRKENSTOCKS earlier today, with my short shorts. ;)

april 5

weighed: 127
bodyfat: 21

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: yesterday...back, shoulders, chest and torture abs

wrote: :)
read: Branded: the buying and selling of teenagers, by Alissa Quart

heard: radiohead, bebel gilberto (the remixed), liz phair, interpol

newest content: see post below for links...

two NEW pieces of utterly useless information for you!

last type of cheese consumed: mozz, on my pizza from fat slice

i 'mell like: verbena, baby oil and patchouli.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

me so tired, me sleep a long time...

just spent over three hours creating a website for someone very special...now it's 4:30 and i'm exhausted. all i did was computer-related shtuff today, besides watching UCONN destroy that other team...so i feel like the vaio has become another body part, at this point. i didn't mind such a low-key day. my weekend was wild, partially b/c i capped it off with the most brutal workout i've done in months...all supersets and i'm on three-sies after being on two-sies all this time. if you didn't understand that last sentence, my apologies. not. this is MY diary. it ain't my fault if you never played jacks when you were a little girl. ;)

lucky for you there IS new content, even if it's not here, so you shall not be bored at work, my pretties. first off on the main flog, you'll find six pictures from my uber-fun weekend in the city with fatmango :) the picture above is one that didn't make the cut.

after all that, you can go snoop through what's in my purse...b/c i FINALLY got to update it. yay fotolog. :P oh and did i mention that it's my NEWEST purse? it's so hot. i love it. go look and be jealous. ;)

anyway, my sangria is making me shleepy so i think i'm about done here. yeah, you read right. sangria. i unexpectedly had some on saturday at Cha cha cha in the mission as i was watching UCONN defeat Duke, and i've been consumed with it ever since. great sleepy tonic. as i yawn large whilst typing that...good timing, wine. ;)

p.s. almost forgot to tell you...about my hair...

...

...

...

oh, the suspense is KILLING you, innit? ;)

well.

i didn't cut it. but i did dye it today. dark. inspired by fatmango. it's darkest brown, almost black. i don't expect this to last long though, b/c summer is basically here, and that ALWAYS bleaches my hair sum'n fierce. veena, who was born with auburn hair, gets blonde highlights in the summer, no chemicals required.

see, Sam Uncle? all that blonde-coloured worry, for not. now my outsides match my insides, and i'm a GOOD kudi, through and through. ;)

april 2

weighed: 128
bodyfat: 22

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: adduct/abduct/hams/quads/calves...now sets of THREE at 70-80lbs

wrote: :)

heard:
"Will I" by Ian Van Dahl...
"Question of Lust", "Never let me down again" and "Just can't get enough" from Depeche Mode...
"Shiny Disco Balls" by Who da funk
"Breathe" from Melissa Etheridge

read: "what should i do with my life?" by Po Bronson

two NEW pieces of utterly useless information for ya!!!

last type of cheese consumed: gruyere

i 'mell like: sandalwood and roses, verbena

to the person who sent me the following, a million thanks:

"A beautiful woman is a practical poet, taming her savage mate, planting tenderness, hope, and eloquence, in all whom she approaches. A beautiful person, among the Greeks, was thought to betray by this sign some secret favor of the immortal gods: and we can pardon pride, when a woman possesses such a figure, that wherever she stands, or moves, or leaves a shadow on the wall, or sits for a portrait to the artist, she confers a favor on the world. And yet—it is not beauty alone that inspires the deepest passion.

Beauty without grace is the hook without the bait. Beauty, without expression, tires...the secret of ugliness consists not in irregularity, but in being uninteresting.

And, in chosen men and women...we love them as the sky. They have a largeness of suggestion, and their face and manners carry a certain grandeur, like time and justice."

:)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

it's been so long since i've done a capstone, i am struck by how little i have to say. bad, bad habit. it's not like my life has been uneventful, either. yesterday, i

-had lunch in heaven (read: the googleplex)
-wandered around the peninsula (read: my childhood smiling grounds in millbrae)
-read a book at city lights
-held office hours at greco
-giggled WAY too much with eileen perfume
-took floggy pics
-went to berkeley at 11pm and pillaged Fat Slice

and more. i got home well after 1am, and though i was so wired that i couldn't sleep, i couldn't write either.
oh well. i was a good girl today, and i am writing. i even went to the gym. had a HUGE salad for dinner. excuse me while i polish my halo...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

FINALLY, i am on orkut. about damn fucking time.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

i'm glad i had a chill day. i scurried up and down so many hills yesterday, my calves actually hurt today. jam-packed weekend awaits: tomorrow, brunch in the city with my fatmango and a potential fashion intervention with livin' simply. ah yes, GO UCONN.

had no idea that it's palm sunday this weekend; usually, greek orthodox holy week comes a week AFTER conventional easter. this made me an uber-self-righteous child-- i remember suffering like a martyr as the other kids showed off their easter basket'd loot...

"what did you get Anna?"

hmmph! barbarians. it isn't even easter YET. REAL christians celebrate it NEXT week, and i'll tell you whatever i got the week after THAT. i hope baby Jesus forgives you for being greedy and snatching your easter baskets EARLY. don't worry, i'll pray for you that you don't go to hell for rushing it.

;)

anyway, once in a great while, the catholic church gets it right. this is one of those years. so, next week is going to be INSANE. i'm driving my mom to brown church in SF on wednesday and potentially friday, while i go to MY services up here with white people. basically the only two interesting tidbits about this process are:

1) moms and i had to actually sit down for half-an-hour w/a calendar to plot who would be where when, "if i go to SF church with uncle on friday, you can go to your good friday services yourself, here..." "moms, i'm not going to vespers on wednesday. that means i can take you to maundy thursday."

2) the civic, between me being social tomorrow and a bunch of holy business, will absorb at least 1300 miles in less than a week, could be as much as 1700.

why does anna go to church with white devils vs brown morons? well, they're not technically white devil, b/c that's a perjorative term for colonial oppressors...and the greeks didn't fuck with india. yes, i'm greek orthodox. not jacobite, not indian orthodox, not malankara-syro-malabar-eastern-syriani-my-uncle-got-pissed-at-yours-and-started-a-breakaway-parish-also-called-St.Mary's.

no. none of that. my parents were both jacobite, but there was no such parish in LA when i graced the universe with my gorgeous, anticipated entrance. rather than have me grow up as a heathen who attended services once a month if lucky, daddy made the executive decision to get married in a GO church, attend one, and finally baptize me in one. so i'm a baptized greek orthodox girly. i speak almost as much greek as malayalam. i've gone to the same church my whole life, w/o drama or incident. i didn't get to take bharatnatyam b/c i was too busy moving gracefully in circles, dancing like an extra from "My big fat Greek wedding". and yes, there are ALWAYS kalamata olives and fresh, authentic feta in my fridge. still. always.

i need to start my fast. tomorrow, i get to meet fatmango for the first time (i'm giddy excited!!!), and yes, i have that much recorded sense that "nothing is ever going to be the same". not quite like october 14/"feels like i'm 17", but thrilling all the same. it's sad to worry about what i'll (not be) able to order at brunch tomorrow, but suddenly i remember that THAT consciousness and discomfort are precisely why this time of year is so beneficial. this ritual, this process, these thoughts...they are all good things.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

i think i'm the only blogger who didn't do some random april fool's post yesterday. i'm obviously distraught over the oversight.

pah.

the truth is, it didn't even occur to me. and i was a bit surprised at all the salient, "holiday" posts i encountered today while playing catsup. whatever's clever. i will say THIS...i didn't fall for manish's apprentice email fwd, which some of you know about...not b/c i immediately thought, "oooh, it's april 1", no. 'twas b/c i am now a minor expert on "the apprentice", and if *i* just did *my* audition last saturday, and SF was only half-way through the list of cities with open calls, it just seemed a BIT premature. anyway.

it suddenly strikes me that now that a week has passed, we can all be fairly sure that i didn't make it after my group audition. this doesn't really upset me though, not only did i NOT take it seriously last week (i went clubbing instead of standing in line!) a part of me was anxious that i'd fuck up:
a) on national tv
b) in some massive way that the donald would rip me a new one for...

so all's well that (doesn't) end well.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

i am sorely tempted to hack off my hair. it would look something like this:

what say you? i have to be up in six hours, so i'll read your "say" when i get up. 'night.

march 24

weight: 127
bodyfat: 21

kcal: :)
vasa: :( damn those greco grande capps to HELL. okay, don't. ;)

gym: gone all day!
write: :)

NEWEST CONTENT: um, i TRIED to upload pix to that worthless, piece of shit fotolog...i managed to upload a whopping two of them...sans captions. but if you want to see pudgesicle's baptsim, go here.

music: motown and row, row, row your boat.
read: back to "fierce invalids home from hot climates", by robbins

i spent the day with PUDGE:

this is us crawling around the magnificent marble floor at eileen perfume's house; yes, two worlds collided as my h.s. best friend met my college best friend, for the first time ever.

pudgesicle's mom (best friend from college) called me in the a.m. to ask if i wanted to go to IKEA. since that's practically in SF, i was all, hell yeah. okay, i didn't actually conceive of or articulate a thought THAT inane, but i did feel like typing it, so WHAT, ni'r, WHAT?!

sleep deprivation has made me loopy.

anyway, we actually stopped in berkeley BEFORE emeryville, b/c we were feenin' for samosa chaat. we had planned on noshing at my beluwed Gaylord's, but i had this eerie premonition named past disappointment that made me conject that Queerlord's would be closed at 3pm. imagine that. they were.

i was fixated on samosas.

Vik's chaat it was. so. there we went, to the most famous hole in a warehouse ever. i convinced the surly punjabi woman to mimic what Gaylord's does, no matter how badly, while i salivated over something i had NEVER seen-- GREEN FROOTI! you assholes! all of you reading my blogs flogs and dogs, and not ONE of you had the decency to tell me there is a new frooti??? wtf?

i am so proud to report that my Godson the pudgesicle slurped down his FIRST mango lassi like a fucking champion. YEAH. he loved it. he also loved the bollywood paneer oozing loudly through the speakers, as he made Hrithik look like a retard with his novel, happy gyrations to "You are my Soniya" or whatever the fuck it's called from KKKG. what i find astounding is how i made his mom sit through that movie when she was ready to pop, and he recognised the song today. coincidence? i hope not. that kind of spooky-cool stuff thrills me.

so.

i finally decided on pudge's brown name, since he has a Naniji and an already obvious affection for indian food and garam indian vomen (ahem). someone wandered up to coo at him at Vik's when his mother was away and when they asked me his name, i smiled sweetly and blurted out "krishna". pudgesicle immediately clapped and chortled. done, and DONE. he loves breaking in to the yogurt, he wears his hair in that cute little top-knot thing and he's soooo pretty he could be a girl. combine all of that w/the fact that he has the sweetest, happiest, yet still slightly mischievous nature...and he's a natural K. i almost named him dinesh, but i got over that bizarreness quickly. sorry, ankur. "hunts with spear in the moonlight" was a finalist, but in the end, "krishna" seemed more apposite. even his mother agreed.

march 23

weight: 127
bodyfat: 20

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: arms
write: :)

NEWEST CONTENT: i rewrote "daddy's girl redux"

music: super furry animals
read: madame bovary

it's 3:47am and i'm giving up. i finally mustered the discipline within to go through two weeks worth of photographs (that's over 300 to you sarcastic motherfuckers) to cull a meager six...b/c the flog has been neglected for far too long. this is truly not my fault. the useless idiots at fotolog.net keep wreaking shittiness on their dilettante website, all the while muttering something akin to, "we are upgrading our servers!" for fuck's sake, get it over with already.

i haven't posted anything since shmoopie came to visit, and that was the beginning of this month! so many significant things have transpired since-- most notably my pudgesicle's baptism-- and i've dutifully taken all the photos i know you slackers crave...but part of me has been less than enthused to deposit them on a site where the archives don't work. still. you see, we had a routine, my flog-ees and i...i'd put up a flog every other day or so, they would go peruse it at their leisure (read that the way a brit would. why? b/c i fucking said so).

sometimes this meant right away, as soon as it was ready. some people actually saved them all for one big flog orgy on fridays. whatever. i'm thrilled that my flog has been called upon more than 50k times to amuse and distract. i don't require that it be viewed in any particular way. however. in order to accomodate my friday-orgy types, the ARCHIVES NEED TO WORK. so that they can flip through the dozen or so pics they missed. sigh. i cannot over-emphasize how much this lack of archives saps my desire to flog. it KILLS it. if they made cialis or wiagra for fotolog, i'd need some right about now, so that i could get it up already.

so.

i managed to almost get it up. alas. alack. the UPLOAD PAGE KEEPS CRASHING. i stayed up, for this? turned on "hide windows while i'm away" on my handy AIM away msg, for this? i motivated myself...you get the trend.

gah.

the flog isn't the only thing that BLOWS. my nose also does. you see, my allergies are just satanic this year, despite all the allegra i've been mainlining. my throat threatens to close several times a day, i sneeze if i even dare look outside and my nose no longer has any skin on its nostrils. love-fucking-ly. and you wondered why i'd been away. it's not just b/c rewriting "daddy's girl, redux" left me figuratively on the floor, curled up and twitching from all that naked candor. no. I CAN'T FUCKING BREATHE!!!

sigh. let us focus on happier things. like boys for example.

boys!

boys who've never met me, whose brows look like venetian blinds b/c of their worry for me, who wrote me half a dozen emails today just to check if i'm okay, to ask if i can hear the motown wafting my way.

boys who drop the L-bomb for the first time in their stoic, emotion-free lives, b/c their beloved anna-didi/akka/chechi was crying over an ex-.

boys who sweetly, shyly tell her that her blog kept them company during a sick day (12 hours of reading from beginning to end!) and by the end of that day of bedrest, they had concluded that she was better than arundhati.

(he was sick. surely he hallucinated that last one.)

boys who stay up chatting with her about rem koolhaas, raves and really bad brown dating profiles, making her laugh until hours such as this, even though they have to be up at five.

boys who make her gasp when she stalks their away msg b/c they've left her love in their AIM profiles, after they already stun her numb by turning her in to their buddy icon (it's a great fucking picture, so step off).

ah, boys. mummy thinks i'm boy crazy. i counter that i'd be crazy not to sweat ones such as these.

+ + + + + + +

wow, that "count your blessings" when you're sad bullshit really works! ;)

march 21

i've been away forever. i meant to write, but i wrote something sad, to someone i love, instead.

i wrote something sad instead of something happy, to all of you whom i love.

i stared and stared at my laptop screen, poured a second glass of wine, ruminated for quite a long time.

nothing.

this shiraz was wasted, i guess.

march 14

weight: 122
bodyfat: 19

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: 45" cybex
write: :)

NEWEST CONTENT: the "city quiz" on the main blog, also, i finally put captions on the gold sari pictures from Shmoopie's visit to SF on the flog.

music: indigo girls "romeo and juliet"
read: our feet walk the sky, anthology

look what this asstard wrote to MY DOG on Fster:

idiot.

march 13

weight: 122
bodyfat: 19

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: lats/delts/back/pecs
write: :)

cd: five for fighting
read: our feet walk the sky, anthology

march 11

weight: 122
bodyfat: 21

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: in SF!
write: :)

am in SF, at a slumber party with shwarooop and schmoopie. :D we (me, shmoo, swarup, mukul, sonny and somiya) were all at dinner at the Cheesecake factory on Union Square, and we just got home. random. 4 bongs and 2 mallus. all split along gender lines...(sonny's gf was mallu, too). i got the same thing i ALWAYS get at CF...the quesadilla. also, b/c i'm true to myself, i got NO CHEESECAKE. blech. i may have the most egregious sweet tooth otherwise, but i HATE me some cheesecake. eeew.

started off my day by driving to walnut creek, to meet E for lunch. we went to the same simple pizza place, but everything is transformed when i'm with E...we had this ridiculously amazing discussion about anti-semitism, revisionist history and the "Passion". she was all lady-like by eating her salad with an actual fork...i was having issues (they packed SO much greek salad in to my bowl, it was impossible to stab anything w/o making the whole thing overflow)...i finally gave up and dumped the whole thing out in to my plate...and then proceeded to eat everything with my fingers. i can't help it. when i see olives, i feel like picking them up. it's an old bartending habit. we don't have FORKS at the bar. ;)

after noshing, we wandered outside in to the GLORIOUS day. it was so beautiful; the kind of day that justifies being in CA. we hung out for a little bit, on this park bench outside of Borders books, as we dissected what moms brought me from the motherland; "is all that jewelry new?" yeah. and she bought me an ass-load of saris, too. we surmised that this was all meant to be a "trousseau" from my hopeful moms. "why else would she buy SO MANY different saris, in every colour?"

E and i reluctantly parted and i sped off to SF, where i picked up my shmoopie at onion square. we wandered around for a while, making stops at nordstrom, diesel etc...but we got massively sick of the 30 min limit on my meter. we took off for north beach (ah, home.)...and i got PRIME parking on columbus. :D any of you who live in major cities will understand my ecstasy at this. ;) shmoo and i hung out OUTSIDE of caffe greco, with SF's best cappuccinos to keep us company. i NEVER sit outside, but that should tell you how gorgeous this day was. shmoo taught me how to write all FOUR of my names in bengali. that was fun. :)

we left NB and ran BACK to onion square to meet four other people for dinner. i almost INSISTED that we sit outside b/c it was soooo pretty. in fact, while we waited an HOUR for our fucking table, three of us w/digital cameras were trying to outdo each other w/taking pics at night sans flash. i HATE my shaky hands!

dinner was yummy. the conversation and company were even better :)

now i'm back here at swarup's house, blogging while they pack; swarup is off to FL to see his gf and shmoopie is going back to NY. they are both flying at the same time, and i'll leave when the super shuttle arrives for them.

super shuttle.

i hated that shit in DC. they always show up 2 hours before they NEED to and you're STUCK at the motherfucking airport b/c of it. blech. after a while, i just started flying in and out of DCA so that i could cab it. gah.

i haven't done super shuttle in CA...everything is so different out here. i drive EVERYWHERE. leave my car at the airport. can't fathom paying some surly motherfucker in a blue van to annoy me on my way to a trip. and they ALWAYS annoyed me. i've put over 600 miles on my car since monday...in CA, it's just not a big deal to drive wherever.

anyway. swarup is making fun of me by saying "blah blah blah" as i type on his compaq and shmoo is sweetly correcting him; "no, i'ts BLOG BLOG BLOG!"....i love blogging w/company. it's so entertaining. :) swarup is so fucking funny. he keeps imitating Li'l Jon by saying "WHAT???" and "OKAY!!!"...and he totally sounds like him, too. all those songs are so fucking AWFUL. swarup actually improves them. also, they introduced me to this ridiculous Rick James website that they adore, b/c they saw something on the Chappelle show that had him repeatedly saying..."I'm Rick James, BITCH!" so all of us, all night long, where saying things that ended with that statement. swarup just turned on a Chappelle show that he tivo'd...it's so fucking funny. must get cable. :)

+++++++

okay, i HAD to come back b/c shmoo just showed me this HILARIOUS website...featuring bubb rubb...they were making inside jokes about this all night and i had no idea what they were saying...in fact i thought it was another Chapelle skit...omg, but truth is even BETTER (and stranger) that fiction. this is what you want to go to, right herre...check out the top comment...and click them in order. then, send me the inevitable thank you comment b/c this is some FUNNY SHIT. :D i'm DYING, yo. woo-woooo!

+++++++

M.R.:

"here. learn how to do a girl's hair."

"ooh, this song makes me sad." :(
hug.
"oh wait. eeew. not any fucking more it doesn't. blech."

"that was horrendous. it was HORRENDI." (pit hair in blink vid!)

swarup: "WHAT???!"

cornrows?

"dreads? that's so fucking nasty. i'd have to not wash my hair for what, a month?"

"you're an eagle scout?"
"HELL *NO*!!!!"
"oh."
"now write that shit down. i want to see THAT on the list."

swarup: "OKAY???!"

"do you know what 'skee' means?"
"no."
(evocative gesture)
"EEEWWWW!...how do you even KNOW that. now this is going to forever be the SPOOGE song. yuck!"

"li'l bow wow was always WAY better than li'l romeo."

march 10

weight: 122
bodyfat: 21

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: EAR!
write: :)

NEWEST CONTENT (besides this, you smartass): the other flog

cd: Morcheeba and Radiohead
read: "Fierce Invalids..." by Robbins

it's 3:30am and i really need to get to bed-- i need to be up in less than 5 hours. i'm off to SF tomorrow, first to have lunch with my west coast lawyer E ;), and then to meet my SHMOOPIE in the city. :D

he's leaving friday, so nothing shall keep me away from the bay manana. i saw him on monday night and had a BLAST!!! what can i say, engineers from Cornell/Yale rock my world ;) he introduced me to his best friend from home, swarup and another bay area comrade, mukul. we all met up in north beach and had dinner at figaro-the house of gnocchi, followed by capps at (where else?) Greco. that was 4.5 hours where i laughed so hard it was indecent. for a moment, it looked like we were going to get kicked out of figaro-(the house of gnocchi!)...then i gave our horrid waiter the dirtiest look i could muster. "and. you. call. yourself. ITALIAN." i hissed. "kidding. i was kidding." i'll BET you were, putana. >:(

i love being silly. it was just an evening of non-stop seinfeld refs and abuse of language. the word "gnocchi" was proclaimed so many times before we ordered that i felt hypnotized and unable to resist its seductive potato'd pull-- i forgot about my fave arrabiata and murmured "i'll have the gnocchi. pesto. thank you." all without blinking ;) i wasn't the only stepford-bengali...three out of four of us got gnocchi variations including concoctions with truffle oil and other stuff that finicky me resisted. mukul HAD to be difficult and get the tortellini. MIT engineers. you can't date them, you can't live without them ;)

engineers. bengalis. the three people i was having ridiculous amounts of fun with were all bong engineers. which was excellent, b/c whenever i wanted to play stupid (or make them laugh) i just mimed like there was a screen in front of my face while saying "poli-sci" very somberly. when i commenced my 100-mile drive back to mom's crib at 12:15am, i was still all giddy and giggly. somewhere around fairfield i had an epiphany that turned my smile upside down...i never have that much fun with malayalee people. i don't know why that saddened me so much. i feel like i'm just in denial re: the inevitable, that i'm destined to end up with a north indian boy despite my valiant attempts to give underqualified coconuts (kerala. coconuts. get it?) a chance. it's almost like i have an affirmative action program for mallu boys who wish to date me. and what sucks is i'm TOTALLY anti-aff axn. it's one of the issues that kept me happily ensconced in the GOP for all those years that i tortured my democrat daddy w/my party affiliation. sigh. oh well. i could do a lot worse than one of the delightful young geniuses i was chilling with that night.

anyway. fun monday was followed by stressful tuesday (don't ask). today? i was just recovering. i haven't been breathing properly ever since the weather turned gorgeous and all 81 degrees, b/c my allergies reappeared from out of nowhere and breathing is now a massive project. :( i didn't have allergies in NEW YORK. gah.

speaking of the horrid "A" word, i just rushed off to turn on my electric blankie. while i was bending over to switch it on, my head immediately felt like exploding. my eyes water constantly, i rub my nose like i'm a coke-powered I banker and i sneeze whenever i come in to contact with air outside of my house or car. this fucking BLOWS. i started sucking up the allegra today. desperately. i hate rain but i'm almost praying for it b/c it would wash some of my air-bourne torturers away. :(

i think today was the last day of my ear issues. i'll waste a day on the couch crying in pain if it means NEVER AGAIN.

wow this is like, the bitter diary entry. didn't mean for it to be. i was actually BLISSED on monday and i'm totally looking forward to tomorrow. no surprises there- i'm only happy when i'm surrounded by concrete and skyscrapers.

'night.

...............................................

must remember:

gnocchi gnocchi gnocchi

"only bengalis try and get away w/classifying FISH as a wegetable"

name-dropping!

"do girls like ripping open your shirt?"

flavor savor, no!
soul patch, no!
KING TUT!

"you shop at EXPRESS!"

metrosexual

risk arbitrage

MARS

"i met martha stewart at MIT...
"was she a bitch?"
"no! not at all!"
"pah. she has a thing for you."

the coat closet at the long island temple during durga puja

"HELLoooooooooo"
"dude, where's your puffy shirt?"
"omg, you HAVE a puffy shirt?!"

i got so lost :(

"are you sure you can walk in that?"
"would you like to get SLAPPED?"

"there are like a HUNDRED ankurs in the bay area." twice.

"omg, do you know what we look like??"
"no, what?"
"like you're an H1B and i'm your fobby bride"
"hello, my name is wikram, and i work in the walley. this is what i ordered. she is wery nice."
"shut up!"

zen parking lot fortunes in each space

"here's a comb- get the product out of your hair, metrosexual."

steps, gnocchi or calzone's?

"not steps, steps TRATTORIA. steps is too loud."
"not another TRATTORIA. sheesh."

"that's not a vegetarian"
"it's a pescatarian."
"no, it's a pesco-vegetarian."
"what?!"
"yeah, like i'm a lacto-ovo-vegetarian."
"what's an ovo?"
"an EGG."

filters

holi at stanford, sponsored by PAYPAL

"MIT? oh, do you know ___?"

lucky MIT presidents and my office space award

working less than six hours a day at Oracle

"i work at ____."
"no way! i LOVE _____. hotels, cars, flights, i've booked it ALL."
"cool! now i can look up all of your past purchases."

seema? seema.

"i'm changing my friendster 'occupation' to masseuse!"

sh-. on EVERYTHING. or sh-everything. ;)

"kundu?"
"kundu."
"what?"
"it's just that..."
"what!"
"well, in malayalam...kundi means ASS."

to bong or not to "bong"

martha stewart is getting crucified!

"well i HAD to find SOME way to make it (my order) high maintenance!!!"

"she knows EVERYONE in north beach. have you noticed? they greet her by name!"

office hours.

getting waitlisted at HBS sucks.

"i discuss middleware when i'm sightseeing ALL the TIME!"

"he photoshopped me with different facial hairs."
"it's true. it takes seconds."
"dude! can you give me highlights?"
"you already have them."
"no i DON'T!"

"i wish one of you was gay."
"why?"
"i need help with my sari!"

"you want me to be the first in your little black book?!"

"you're my hero. i want to work at oracle for less than 8 hours a day."
"work in PCS. they only work 4 hours a day, from 10-2 and most of THAT time is at a restaurant."
"what should i do? i'm cute."
"marketing."
"communications."
"sales."
"HR."
"dude. she's WAY too good for HR..."

going back to nyc in a diesel coin pocket

drive through daquiri stands...for your convenience

no, drive through LIQUOR stores in maryland

"prince george's county?!"
"PG county reprazent, babyyyy! we keeps it real, son."

"they are the greatest commercial for cable ever. all they talk about is the daily show and chappelle."

swarup's impeccable directions

*mwah*
"oooh. now i won't be able to SLEEP!"

"asstard."
"oooh, i like that."

dicksmack?
"i'm trying to decide how vulgar i should be, after all, i'm in a sari"
"oh, go right ahead.
shroomslap.
"what the?"
"well if you're circumcised it's shroomslap...it you're not...it's dicksmack!"
"oh."

"i have a poli-sci filter!"
"you know, for the longest time when i heard that, i thought people meant 'polymer science'"
"are you fucking kidding me?"
"no."
"what does that even MEAN? poly = many...mer = what???"
"it's just...a string...of things."
"oh THAT'S helpful. what things?"
"well...like...silicone! silicone, for example, is a polymer!"
"oh!!! i put that in my hair!!!!" :D

march 7

weight: 123
bodyfat: 20

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: bis + tris, torture abs...while i can barely walk straight. HA!
write: :(

NEW! :D

cd: STILL blaring ill path hip hop compilation
read: Our Feet Walk the Sky: Women of the South Asian Diaspora

my thighs are throbbing, thanks to yesterday's fierce workout. owww. i already took 800mg of motrin and i don't know what more i can do. :( maybe all the happy painkiller molecules meandered over to my head and left ear-- i apparently have an ear infection :( :( :( now i TOTALLY understand why babies screech bloody murder whilst afflicted with these nasty bouts of woozy, dizzy, ouchiness. on the count of three, everyone feel sorry for me! one- two-....

i got NOTHING done today. didn't wake up in time to go to church, in fact, how's this for useful-- i woke up as it was ENDING. :( all that fasting and obnoxious self-righteousness for naught. i wasn't feeling well, but i thought it might be the guilt over missing church ;) after a few hours on the computer, my head was misery, my eyes were itchy, my nose was snuffly and my throat was as nasty as paris hilton's knickers. oh NO, i realised...it's ALLERGY season. this fucking SUCKS. i trudged back to bed, b/c being horizontal seemed like the smartest thing. after an hour of wishing that i was somewhere allergen-free (new york!), i passed out.

yeah.

THAT'S what i did with my day. i woke up and made a massive pot o' chai...b/c my throat was worse, it was at LEAST as nasty as nicole ritchie's knickers...and i sat down at the computer, feeling pathetic. where was my mom? it was 6:30pm...and i felt...odd. i couldn't quite figure out why one side of my head was screaming, b/c i didn't have any other migraine symptoms. the garage door opened and i raced for it...there was mom, arms loaded with shtuff from costco. (we're a very costco-centric family). "oh, so THAT'S where you went," i said, grabbing bananas for anna and giant grapes.

"you said you wanted dinner rolls." awww. thanks ma! "what's wrong?" her brow looked like bacon.

"um, mummy? i can't hear out of my left ear."

she stared at me for a few seconds and asked me if i had a fever. i leaned forward slightly, expecting her to be normal and maternal and feel my head. she snorted at me. resigned, i carried in the rest of her purchases and then ran upstairs. medicine cabinet. oh my goodness, i actually put something back in its proper shpot the last time i used it. halle-fucking-lujah. i ran back down, electronic thermometer barely lodged under my tongue, and i looked at her balefully.

"um ee oly malayalee kih en uhmehika who ha to yew uh ermometer" i reproached her.

"shut up, or it won't work."

have you ever seen me glower? well, that's what i was doing. my attempt at a fierce scowl did not affect me mum in the slightest. bee-beep. she whipped the plastic out of my mouth and said "well. that was conclusive. you're at 95. who told you to talk when a temperature is being taken!!" i rolled my eyes and flounced off.

she asked me a few questions i had trouble hearing-- i kept saying "huh?" like i was elderly. i had a flashback to random cartoons where wizened old people with white beards hold what looks like a horn next to their heads. not my hearing! how will i listen to my RIO?! finally she walked over and took my hand and spoke to me slowly, like i was retarded...

"you. have. an. ear. infection. you'll live."

sigh.

when i was small we always went to daddy for sympathy. moms had NONE for us. :( "can i still go to the gym with this? or will it mess it up?" she looked at me blankly. "with my EAR infection...can i work out or NOT?" she pursed her lips and i knew i wasn't going to like whatever came next. "i don't think you should go to the gym."

"because?"

"i just don't."

"because of my EAR, moms?"

"no...i don't think you've had enough calories today."

"i'm ASKING you about my EAR, ma."

"when you don't eat enough...you shouldn't..."

"oh for the love of odin..."

i ran back upstairs and traded the thermometer for yoga pants. summer is almost here. the temperature during the day is already in the 70s. nudity calls and my body must be ready to answer ;) moms gave me a dirty look as i ran out. i really wasn't feeling so hot, so i gave myself permission to do the "lame" workout. arms. working out sans rio BLOWS. i had to listen to annoying suburban teens, the annoying hum of cardio machines and the annoying music that the painted whore at the front desk had chosen. in a word? it was...hmm...oh, right...ANNOYING.

still, i was somewhat proud of my dedication. vanity. whatever. i showed up, and sometimes that's all that matters.

wanna know what ELSE i'm proud of? i finally got around to adding the bloglet box to this and my real blog. delighted that i did it right the first time, i got all confident and started monkeying with the html for both sites. not that i know html. i am a cutie poli sci major. i don't know ANYTHING useful. but there are a few subtle changes that have me all tickled :)

i like bloglet...it's how i know when to read tiffinbox or the VC blog that i sometimes wander over to...i am certain that i'd see both of them WAY less if i didn't have this lovely near-daily email telling me what's new. i see the first few words of each new post and i can click through the email to the blog. genius. wish more blogs had it. i wouldn't put it on MY blogs if i didn't use and like it meself. and i do and do. :) so enjoy. don't say i didn't get you anything for easter. ;)

so weird to not hear out of one ear. the world is a markedly different place. i feel very vulnerable, for some reason. sometimes moments like this are uber-necessary, if only to make me realise what a blessed little girl i am. i often type that "music is the only thing that matters" and i pay lipservice to this idea when i play that lame, worst-scenario game-- "what would you rather lose, your sight or your hearing?" oh, obviously my sight b/c i couldn't live without music, blah blah blah.

it's such a knee-jerk answer. i recite it without thinking about it. but today... wow. today i'm reminded of how lucky i am that i don't actually need to make such a choice. in a weird way, this is what lent is actually about. mindfulness. gratitude. being conscious.

i do hope that i feel well enough to drive to SF tomorrow, since i couldn't do it today. shmoopie awaits and i'm going through new york/connecticut indian boy w/d. ;)

i'm going to close with something new that i just thought of/decided on: something that happened during my day that made me happy, that i should remember and hold on to...i.e. if i could remember one cool thing about my day, what would it be? this seems like an excellent daily feature, and an especially apposite addition to ye olde diary for this purple and white season, i reason.

:) =

someone i adore and consummately respect who is VERY well-read told me that the email i wrote them yesterday reminded them of rushdie and therefore, roy. in fact,

"you could be another arundhati roy..."

they went on to type, much to my ear-numbing astonishment.

be still my swooning insides.

i knew that missive was something extraordinary b/c i was feeling "flow" as i wrote it...well, that and it took me 100 minutes to write...but i NEVER expected those kinds of honeyed words. me? like arundhati? WOW. yeah, that's worth remembering, commemorating and celebrating, all right...

march 6

weight: 123
bodyfat: 19

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: 30" interval training (yeah, BITCH!), hams/quads/calves, all in the 60lb range.
write: :)

NEW!
cd: ill path hip hop compilation
read: "fierce invalids home from hot climates" by robbins

look at that...two new categories to replace "dog":
1) what's currently jammed in to the sick civic's stereo
2) what's on the pillow next to me, pages down, dropped in exhaustion, exactly where i left off

some people sleep with their booty calls, i do my books ;) i used to do a "now playing/reading/eating/drinking" in my friendster "about me" section that got updated daily, but once that gigantic blurb migrated to herstory, i stopped updating it, even though several people complained that they missed reading about my insane eating habits. oh yeah. there's THAT type of ennui in the world.

anyway.

i don't want to write. my calves are throbbing. i threw 65lbs of plates on the calf-raise thing, and OWWWW is all i have to say about THAT. i even did an extra set, b/c i'm not happy with them. i need to start playing soccer again. i have better calves than this. somewhere.

"indian girls have NO calves." i'm trying to remember which male associate said this to me, so bitterly, years ago. (if you're reading this, comment already, this is driving me nuts.) it's actually true. so is what i spat back, "neither do indian BOYS". you can't work against your genetics. i'll never have the hamstrings of a soccer player. i'll never have impressive calves. whatever. i'm ending this nascent pity-party. on balance, i'm pretty fucking thankful for all that i do have, so i'll live without sexy, key, cheese-obliterating hams.

i ran in my jordans today. i remember laughing as i double-tied them...my ex- always made me shake my head, when he suited up for hoops at basketball city in his RUNNING shoes (that i picked out, natch). "you should be playing ball in proper shoes," i'd protest. "what if you roll your ankle?!" he always waved me off.
now, i've come full circle. i went running in BASKETBALL kicks. i miss interval training. it's brutal and violent and fierce. i always want to give up, mid-way through, after the second or third interval...and it's uber-satisfying when i persevere through that lazy inner-whining. but. we all remember the ankle incident of early february. i don't care to repeat my ten-day stint with an elevated leg and no stiletto heels. so i felt like i'd be safer running in my jordans. those are some sweet-assed shoes.

sweet-assed? sometimes i am repulsed by my own blathering. where do such phrases even come from? some girl has a lovely bottom, "she has a sweet ass"...and...then? how does that transfer from THAT logical sitch to me talking about my kicks? now i'm thinking of the word "bad ass". hmmm. in the last two years, i've grown WAY more conscious of the way that i speak. i'm turning in to a spelling freak. i'm evaluating every sentence i can for inaccurate or ambiguous phrasing. earlier today i typed, "when my dad first died" thoughtlessly in to an AIM box...i immediately shook my head and wished for a "recant" button, right next to "send", or "block" perhaps..."in the months immediately following my father's death, i..." was what i typed next. when my dad first died? as opposed to the second through fifth incidents? what the?

i shake my head. and yet i know, that some of you who are reading this, right this second, thing that i'm being ricockulously anal about this...well, pooh. i love words. i should treat them with more respect.

in other news, i had a semi-normal conversation with my sister tonight, re: "the passion". poor child. she was very upset by the film; it made her feel like a bad christian. "but i don't remember reading about _____, or when they _____ to Jesus...what was i DOING all those years in sunday school??" she was forlorn. i gave her a thirty minute rant on inexcusable inaccuracies, hallucinating german nuns from the 19th century, opus dei, martin luther, my issues with the american religious right, anti-semitism, artistic responsibility and fornicating hypocrites who were addressed as "Pope ____". by the end of my rabid, bombastic declamation, she was happily on her way to Waffle House for some grub. and she felt like a good christian again. this movie...gah. i won't go on re: it. :(

the only good thing about it is that it rekindled things with my sister. okay, fine! i SAID i wouldn't go ON about it, and this time i REALLY won't, i PROMISE.

speaking of church-y shtuff. i may actually find my way inside a religious edifice in 7 hours...of course this would basically require that i go to bed NOW....whenever i stay in on a saturday night, i always feel slightly virtuous b/c i know that the probability that i'll attend liturgy just spiked. so. i didn't get to see my beloved shmoopie in SF tonight (he flew in yesterday evening), but i'm going to be all holy tomorrow, so i guess it's a fair trade. um, if i wake up in time. ;)

speaking of shmoopies, i WILL get to see him tomorrow afternoon, so i'm all excited. yay. i LOVE it when friends from new york come visit me! :D

march 3

weight: 124
bodyfat: 21

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: 30" on cybex/torture abs
write: :)
dog: she doesn't know that i exist, so who cares?

the insomnia (3 months and counting) is totally catching up with me-- i'm in an exhausted haze most of the time. :(

i haven't gone to the gym since sunday, but i forced myself to go today, by reminding myself that it's a vicious circle; the more you work out, the more energy you have etc. i had to buy myself the ginormous vogue with miss jolie on the cover as a massive self-bribe...and i read that on the cybex, even though my photographic memory guiltily recalled that blurb i read in allure a year or two ago that stated that reading whilst doing cardio is a massive no-no. sigh. whatever. i went. that's all that matters.

it's always weird to read vogue now that i've finished "the devil wears prada"...somehow i'll never process anna wintour's words the same way, ever again. the REAL reason why i bought vogue for the first time in a year is b/c it features an excerpt from "bergdorf blondes", the plum sykes book that will surely make me miss new york far more feverishly than i already do...

+++++++

had an interesting conversation with my mummy about religion, blood libel and "the passion" flick. she told me that my uncle in new delhi was a fervent atheist, and i was intrigued. an atheist? in THIS ancient christian family? wow. i knew he was a photographer who is a regular at fashion week in india, but THIS was the moment when i thought he was cool. my mom was really affected by staying with him. she's the most religious AND spiritual person i know, and apparently they were engaged in one neverending theological discussion, for her entire stay in delhi. he didn't convert her to the dark side, but he did somehow convince her that the bible can't be accepted as pure fact...and that was extraordinary.

then, she asked me if i had always believed in G-d. and jesus.

if i had ever doubted.

i looked up at her, sitting at the top of our stairs, face framed between the vertical rails of our bannister. i was in my daddy's chair, and i had to crane my neck at this massively uncomfortable angle to make eye contact with her. i tried to twist slightly, in this unforgiving formal piece of furniture. no use. no matter what i did, my neck would hurt. how appropriate. suffering for religion and all.

i told her that despite my demonic proclivities, my unease with overt, cheezy, malayalee, ned-flanders-level religious dorkiness, and my potty mouth so fowl that the captain had to switch the email addy i used for him to something more "robust" by the second day of our friendship, i had never doubted.

"i always knew that G-d existed. there's never been a moment that i've been alive, when i wasn't sure of it." i couldn't decipher the look that passed over her face. and i've been looking at her face longer than anyone else's.

"ma, i was never an atheist or an agnostic...i just can't get in to the whole bible-banging thing. it doesn't really feel orthodox to me. i'm private about faith. G-d knows how i do, i don't need to holler 'praise the lord' or 'stothrum!' every ten minutes at a prayer meeting in someone's house, where everyone was just gossiping about me and you, yo' mama and your cousin, too, 15 mins before we commenced praying."

she stared at me. when she finally spoke, every word seemed to weigh more than usual. a slow, deliberate cadence. "i'm not asking you to agree with any of that. i don't, why should you?"

"but that's just it, ma. not everyone is as humble or truly spiritual as you. if every malayalee was, i'd be the first person to run some jacobite youth program. they're not, though. it's all drama. and it feels really insincere to me...i feel like people focus on the wrong things. they don't even realise that they're in a forest b/c they've got their noses smashed in to a diseased tree."

i asked her about something that i had read, something that had bothered me in this really unsettling, unpleasant way-- someone religious who was discussing their faith said something akin to "G-d, reveal your sacrifice to me, help me to comprehend your son's suffering and death for my sins."

she raised an eyebrow.

i went off. not out of derision for that person, but out of confusion and a vague sort of irritation.

"what is THAT?! how does anyone NOT already comprehend this linear chain of events; Jesus suffered a very human, crippling sort of apprehension in the garden of Gethsemane, he was betrayed, then tortured, crowned with thorns, forced to drag his own cross through the streets...until he finally, understandably collapsed and someone else did it for him. then he got to Golgotha and they put nails through his wrists, they plunged a sword in his side and he died a horrific death. done! he died! and it sucked! what is there to reveal beyond that? isn't this what people think about all day on good friday? at easter? anytime they see a cross??? he went through all of that b/c he was the greatest sort of leader, ever. arguably no other human has affected the world more profoundly!!! i don't think that when they nailed him up on that terrible tree that he was thinking, i'm dying for YOU anna. i think he was a huge threat to the status quo. and whenever you are in power, and you notice someone who will decimate you and your fragile sphere of influence, you destroy them. G-d sent his son to teach us about love and goodness. we killed him. that's how thankful we are. who needs this to be revealed??? what's difficult to comprehend?? isn't it all beyond obvious?????"

she had rested her chin on her hand, while i ranted up at her from downstairs. she folded that buttress for her face and let it collapse in to her lap, like so much architecture destroyed by my petulant verbal dynamite. "are you reading your bible?"

i glowered for a second. bristled. felt my skin go prickly.

"yes." i answered, quietly.

she raised an eyebrow. then she changed up the convo. "why are you judging someone for their point of view? what do you have against that person? i mean, i can see your point, but i understand theirs, too--"

"judge shmudge. i have nothing against that person, pacifically. but that mentality goes along with that whole...coven of twisted christianity!!! these are the same ignorant assholes who are going to see "the passion" en masse, and then blame jews for killing A JEW NAMED JESUS. that's CRAP, ma."

she leaned forward. "but jews did tell to kill--"

"are you fucking kidding me? if it was part of G-d's plan for his son to die all along, then they were just helpless pawns. you can't have it both ways. you can't say 'ooooh, G-d has a plan' and then turn around and blame jews for ANYTHING. that is some seriously inane bullshit, ma."

"no, i'm not blaming--"

"there were plenty of jews who dug his teachings. the first christians WERE jews. jesus? a jew. mary? jew. joseph? jew. some random idiots in an ancient crowd got carried along via groupthink and asked for the wrong man's life to be spared. do we blame all crackers for the awful lynchings of innocent black people in america?? no! so why is everyone so fucking quick to say that jews killed jesus. for fuck's sake, i have HAD it with blood libel! and that movie makes pontius pilate out to be sympathetic. what. the. fuck?"

mom shook her head at me, i could tell she was in to this. her eyes were flashing, like i could see inside her head. like those dryers with the glass doors where you can see clothes tumbling around. i fancied that i could see ideas spinning, synapses firing.

"but latha, pilate DID say that he washes his hands of the affair."

"oh. my. LORD. mom?! pontius pilate was an ASSHOLE. the roman empire HATED christians. tortured them. pilate wasn't some huge fan o' Christ?! he threatened the status quo, which pilot was happily ensconced in. that's the same reason why caiphas and his lot wanted jesus DEAD. JC threw out the money lenders and exposed corruption...is it really that much of a stretch to deduce that they'd want to get rid of that kind of troublemaker?"

"yes! and THAT is the man who said--"

i heaved a gargantuan sigh. "yes, yes. blood fucking libel. 'his blood be upon us and our children'. right ma, like i'm sure that motherfucker caiphas polled all jews and said, 'yo, i want to kill my rival here, can i rain this guilt down on all your descendants? yeah? cool!' puh-LEASE, woman. again, blaming all jews for one idiot. blame ALL the crackers for every lynching--"

"no latha, i don't do that. i don't hate the british for what they did in india, even though i was just in jallianwalabagh last week, and my heart broke for those trapped, innocent people. but i had to remind myself, as i stood there, looking at that well, that this massacre happened a long time ago, and hating britain now is irrational and pointless. today's british citizens aren't responsible for that tragedy. and you are right, not all jews should be punished for the crucifixion."

"but ma, that's just it! anti-semitism is often justified via blood libel and this erroneous contention that 'jews killed christ'...hello...holocaust??? this movie is super controversial, mummy. i'm worried. there are already stupid so-called churches in the vast white-trash, middle of america who are putting up signs that bring up that dangerous concept, and attribute it to 'the passion'...this is not a christian movie, this is the expression of someone who belongs to a faction of cathol-"

mom snorted politely. "catholics aren't christians?"

"mom. they obv. are. i'm just saying that all these random scary churches in the mid-west and south who are buying 20k tickets at a time are supporting a movie that is very opus dei-da vinci code catholic. mel gibson does NOT accept vatican 2! this is HIS baby. i don't hate him for making it, i respect anyone who believes in their visions...but i'm just scared that some innocent jewish person or synagogue is going to end up harmed at some point in the near or perhaps very distant future, all b/c of a seed planted by a VERY controversial movie."

"latha, the bible says that in the end of days, jesus will want people to 'know' him...i think that's why he made this movie."

it was my turn to scoff at her. "who DOESN'T know who jesus is? remote aboriginal tribes? b/c i think even the mormons have gotten to THEM. look, ma...i'd be happy with the movie if:

1) it wasn't irresponsible about jews
2) it focused more on his message and less on his torture
3) it wasn't so damned gory!! people are taking BABIES to this! that's not right!"

she sighed. "i agree with you, latha. i'm just saying...well...don't be so hard on the person who said they wanted to know suffering--"

"ma! that is the EXACT kind of good-book-thumping zealot who scares me. and blames jews. eeeew. you know, all of the truly brilliant people i know (especially the chemical engineers and biochemists) are WAY anti-religion. i'm starting to see why. it's like what you always said when i was little, mummy..."

"what did i say when you were little?"

"well you say it now, too, just not so often...you used to say that a little bit of knowledge was a VERY dangerous thing. and that's applicable to this whole situation. the movie gives a little bit of knowledge...and critical thinking is NOT encouraged."

she smiled at me wanly. shook her head at me and wagged an affectionate finger my way..."you would've loved your uncle in delhi. correction. he would've loved you. next time i go, i have to take you with me."

i didn't say anything. i'm not a big fan of discussing religion. there are some things (no shitty comments necessary, please) that i am intensely private about...me and G-d? we got our own thang.

she stood up and stretched. i heard things crack and creak. she stifled a yawn. i stifled the urge to copy her. "well, good night. i love you."

"love you too, ma."

february 29

there's a fresh flog with MORE pictures, all ready for you, right herre.

+++++++

weight: 122
bodyfat: 20

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: intensive bis and tris
write: :)
dog: no. the neighbour borrowed her. yippee!

i REALLY need to go to bed...i'm trying to be up uber-early so that i can get tickets to see the most seminal, significant, spectacular band EVER, and they go on sale tomorrow morning...fucking insomnia. this is ONE occasion where i'm actually very irritated that i can't sleep. this reminds me of friday night, when i went to bed at 5am and had to be up at 8am so that i'd make it to the airport on time. i've been recovering from THAT ever since...it was such a hectic two days. i feel borderline sick b/c of it. that or i'm just paranoid about breathing the same air as all the refugee all-stars in the international (read: all brown and yellow) terminal. those were international germs!! though i've never watched the show, pudgesicle's mom always laughs when she sees "Monk", b/c apparently tony shahloub's character is just as terrified of dirt, germs, viruses, filth and common areas as i am...

...i went away for five minutes (not like any of YOU noticed!) b/c there's this amazing story on dateline NBC where they test strangers in new york city...obviously i'm all over THIS. what's the test? simple. what are strangers willing to do for four "actors" all armed with hidden cameras...i'm not telling you the whole story. i'm sort of concomitantly entranced/bothered by the investigation b/c:

a) it takes place RIGHT around rock plaza, my old playground

b) it provides an explanation for my charmed life in nyc that has way less to do with magical realism :(

they hired a male and female model, and borrowed a male and female staffer from the NBC offices and had all four of them do the same things: drop a folder full of papers, ask for change for a dollar, look lost and need directions, try to cut in line at the subway in the concourse that i always passed on my way to hallmark...anyway, they were all white, nicely dressed and doing these things in the same spots, in the same ways.

-folder dropping: the NBC staffers got NO kind of love, meanwhile entire gangs of people rushed up to help the models gather their papers...what was most interesting was how the male model just as many men as women helping him out...

-change for a dollar: again, the NBC staffers get denied. brusque "No."s are tossed their way. the models obviously get all the change they want-- the male model is straight-up told , "yeah, but only 'cause you're cute."

-lost/directions: the NBC staffers each spend five minutes obviously folding and unfolding a map whilst muttering to themselves. the models obviously have people rush out of their way to assist-- and the girl model gets escorted personally to her destination. (oy vey, that sounds familiar)

-cutting in line: all four got to do this, but what was ridic. fascinating was how the models inspired good-will by doing it! the people they cut in front of looked thrilled with being delayed, if it meant staring at hotness.

wow. i'm not totally convinced though. call it my inner ugly duckling rearing her indignant head, call it stupid, i could care less. the models were blonde, blue-eyed, teutonic deities. they weren't brown, brown-haired, brown-eyed Anna with an extra 20 pounds. hmmm.

anyway, it's now 3:30 and i'm so worried i won't wake up in time for tomorrow. my throat is sort of achey. gah. i HATE sore throats. i'm a weird kind of exhausted-- all of this excitement and haste...the house smells different! spices and incense...it's intoxicating. the simple knowledge that another human being sleeps upstairs is odd and good. i no longer haunt 3k sq ft all by my lonesome. my head is spinning with the emotional and physical weariness, though.

moms is worried about me. she obv. wouldn't say so, but i knew it, and earlier today, she confirmed it;

"how is she? she...has wasted away. the cases of food i bought before leaving sit here, untouched, where i left them. i don't think she was eating. she wasn't sleeping. you can see it on her face. it's a good thing i didn't go for longer...she's not well..."

moms is cute. she thinks that by meandering over in to the living room, i can't hear her. ha. i think one of my great-grandmother's sisters is undergoing a 3-day fast for me. i also think it's hilarious when christian people get all superstitious and irrational; they think satan is after me, or something. who knows, maybe he is. but i'm still amazed that ancient, wizened women are going to starve themselves over it. how is their not eating going to revive MY appetite?

in other news, easter officially commenced today. why? b/c i fucking said so. that and i ate a cadbury caramel egg. the first day that i consume easter candy, it's easter. so happy easter, everyone!

i just looked at the coffetable and saw mummy's adorable minolta dimage xt...twin to my venerable dimage x...she took some amazing pictures whilst away. i was massively proud of her. she was NOT a good photog when we were younger-- was famous for decapitating people with the SLR etc. i think two years of me demanding she take pics of me paid off b/c her digital is nearly identical to mine, so she had some sense of how it all worked. it's so wonderful to see things from her eyes; everything is a little different. her pictures of the taj don't remind me of anyone else's, and i give her major respect for that.

in other news, my baby nephew has a huge head. he's 18 months old and i can't believe he doesn't topple over with that melon. saji, if you're reading this, you know which cousin unfortunate baby michael got THAT dna from...

huh. it was leap day. i almost felt panic when i read this one email earlier about "availing yourself of this rare day by doing significant things" b/c i didn't really find it special, and i didn't do a damn thing differently. this was really starting to bother me. thank goodness i decided that it's just another silly day. that and i can never quite tell what time or day it is, thanks to my currently addled state. also, i often think of things in terms of new york/est. so that just murkies up the issue further. off with its head!

i feel like nibbling. mom made that evil, uber-spicy aloo curry that is really "meen curry" but we're veg so fish will have no invite to this here house...it's soooo good. nothing irritated my mom more than when i used to go sneak over to the stove and poach things out of random curries/sabjis. and i was never slick enough to hide my tracks-- i always left the offending fork somewhere near the stove. maybe i secretly WANTED to get caught ;) "why do you do this? take some in a plate and eat! you are not an animal!"
to which i would always reply, no, i don't want to, it tastes better on the stove. "that is a load of bull, latha. stop contaminating food!" i'm not contaminating it ma. i'm BLESSING it with my spit. you should be so lucky that my fork touched something you will later eat. "your father RUINED you! you are obnoxious!"

as proof that i am now a fragile, wounded little thing who must be indulged, she remained silent when she saw the fork. i think she was actually happy about it.

don't worry. i don't do it when company comes over. ;) she'd beat me with a rolling pin if i did :D

+++

damn. moms just woke up. she's not at all happy that i'm all awake. "what. is. wrong. with. you."
um, insomnia? "have you read the bible? that always knocks you out." no, i haven't. "you just sit on computer all night?" ahem, i'm WRITING. she looks all hopeful; "i see that your blanket is turned on...were you IN bed, and then you got out?" no. i leave it on for a few hours so that it's toasty when i slip my abnormally cold self in, finally. she shakes her head at me and begins ascending the stairs, bottle of water in hand.

i absolve myself of guilt; the captain thinks that i'm a violent typist (and fyi, he thinks it's endearing) but i'm not THAT loud. oh, wait. jet lag. poor, poor mummy. she has to go to work in four hours. :(

the only person i feel worse for is my dear "uncle" sam, who apparently has a toothache. see? i pay attention to the away messages. ;)

okay. that's it. it's 4am, i NEED a few hours of sleep, i will NOT miss out on the biggest deal of a concert EVER b/c of freaking insomnia...

"must be a devil, between us..."

or whores. ;)

february 27

weight: 122
bodyfat: 19

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: quads, hams, calves, upper/lower abs + obliques
write: :)
dog: no. that little shit escaped. AGAIN.

i am such a GIRL! i was about to start this short return-to-diary-post since i've been away for a few days...i would've written a proper, pithy one, but i've been up cleaning like a mad-girl b/c moms is back in amreeka in T- ten hours...

anyway, the only thing on at 3:30am is the red-headed-cancelled Sharon Osbourne show...and they had some random cable host on...i wasn't paying attention until i heard the words "in the back of a new york city taxi cab" and then of course i perked up...i had just had a lengthy, obnoxious AIM convo about how *much* i missed new york a few hours ago, when i was last at the vaio...

basically, this guy had planted a ring in the back of a cab...and arranged for his gf and her best friend to get THAT cab...where they found the diamond...and she's such a good girl she freaked out and told the driver who played along and said..."oh no...i just dropped that man off! he's proposing to his gf tonight...at the plaza!"...and then she finds out that the plaza is indeed aware of a proposal from this guy named "frank" and yada yada yada she runs around trying to find "frank" b/c she wants to make sure that he gets the ring...finally she just goes to the plaza...up the stairs...and there's her bf. and she doesn't move at first b/c she's so overwhelmed by all the balloons and flowers and he's all dressed up...and he's soooo sweet. i'm usually not a big fan of "creative" proposals-- a lot of them are just lame. but this one was so sincere and they were so happy...and they were new yorkers...so how could i *not* love all that. ;) i just want to know how the bf made sure his girl got THAT cab...after seeing so many cabs get snaked in ny, i can only imagine how nerve-wracking it was to leave THAT rock in the back of a taxi.

and i had the dumbest smile on my face. :D yay love. yay plaza. yay NY!

right...so where was i...

i'm concomitantly exhausted and awake...prettying up 3000 square feet takes fucking forever. what the hell. i didn't even use 60% of the bleeding house. gah. and i'm trying to NOT make it obvious, right? the point is to make it seem like i was on top of my shit (ha!) the whole time. so i'm cleaning, but if it's too clean i'm mussing slightly. is there some pharmaceutical cure for perfectionism? b/c it's 3:47 in the fucking morning and i have loads to do in the AM as well, since traffic prevented me from getting back up here and to the post office before 5pm. does EVERYONE need to go to tahoe? why aren't there flights?? get OUT of my way! don't get me started on how annoying lumbering SUVs are... >:(

despite bumper to bumper environmental rapists, i am massively proud of myself for getting back here an hour before the gym closed...and throwing myself in to a vicious work-out. i think i like abs b/c they're so brutally difficult. all of this dedication, body fat that's the lowest it's ever been in my life and the definition is barely there...it's such hard work. boys want girls who play hard-to-get (which is CRAP...anyone who's too old for that shit, holla at your girl.) and this girl wants muscles that play hard-to-get. ;) in other obnoxiousness, it's always extra-satisfying when you're lifting and you realise, "oh my, i need MORE weight, this is too light." 0:)

OH! i almost forgot...brief things that will entertain you:

1) that fucking dog escaped AGAIN. no remorse. i've HAD it. just WAIT 'til tomorrow...
2) the cursed canine was able to do this b/c storms BROKE the ENTIRE fence on one side of the house
3) i came home from the gym to a horrifying voicemail for moms...in malayalam...

"ammamma...i have a thing to ask you;has anything been set for latha's wedding? what does she think? the reason why i'm calling is b/c there is a very nice boy here in los angeles, h-1 visa (this is where i nearly fainted with terror), his name is S____ John (fabulous. i won't have to change my fucking name.), he is very sweet and good and pious. (bleagh). also, he is not too dark, not too light. perfect colour we think for her. (indians are so fucking backwards. hell, all minorities who are consumed with this are.) just give us a call, i am ready to give your email, or maybe latha's email? (what the FUCK?!) that way he can contact her..."

i was STARVING after my torture workout, but that answering machine message stole my appetite faster than zara bit chanel's last collection. i am NOT getting married. and DEF. not to someone from there. malayalee boys who are from HERE are simultaneously terrified of/hateful towards me...and she wants me to go fob? are they insane? i'm about to decide to be gay. that way sin and i can be each other's cover and live fabulously ever after. gah!

anyway, after that unnecessary pause for emotional pandemonium, i ate egg whites like a proper gym rat. but i was eating flaming hot limon cheetos whilst scrambling. before i get hate-comments about how THAT is why i don't have a six-pack, a pre-emptive "fuck you." i had a whopping THREE of them. all things in itsy bitsy doses. even toxic, fluorescent junk food. some people masturbate to proclaim self-love...i let myself eat empty calories. it's WAY more naughty ;)

+++

sharon osbourne is over and so am i. i need to pass out and get four hours of sleep. i'll let miss osbourne's surprise guest, hot german chocolate cupcake hi'self boris kodjoe leave you with a final thought to ponder, that TOTALLY speaks to my inner thoughts this evening, (G and boo...you're going to totally recall tonight's conversations...) though he was pacifically discussing the biggest difference between the US and his native deutscheland...

Kodjoe: I think society is different here. At home, you figure out who you are, you discover yourself in your twenties. You're not even concerned with finding a mate or getting married or kids until you're 30 or 35. Here, people get married in college or right of high school. They're worried so much about finding a mate. ... You don't have a clue who you are until you're 35 and then you figure out that you're with the wrong person.

word. even though ich spricht keine deutsch right now, i suddenly feel like moving to berlin. sin, darling...are you in? german men for you, the autobahn for me...it's sounding flawless already...

february 24

weight: 122
bodyfat: 21

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: lats, back, ant/med/post delts, chest.
write: :)
dog: YES!!! (shorter)

was a bit sad today...more drama and tears. it was not an opportune occasion for this (is there ever, though?) because i had no energy to deal with all that was on my lenox "autumn" dinner plate. i fell asleep at 7ish in the morning. woke up a little after noon. those events were punctuated by phone calls, forming a paranthesis around my meager rest. at 7:15 am, just as i was FINALLY dozing off, the DoD called to interview me regarding a security check they were doing on one of my former interns/mentees. i can't be upset at this-- i still have my DC phone number. he innocently thought i was somewhere that was three hours ahead. when he told me the name of the person this was all for, i woke up immediately...i love that girl. she was my left hand that tumultuous summer, and one of the two best interns ever. (my right hand, nisha, was my other "best".)

a few hours of precious slumber...

and then another phone call, this one from someone i care about. it was okay, i didn't mind. but.

BUT.

i was a walking zombie. i passed out twice during the day. not a good foundation for a day built on tears.

i turned it around though...i went to the gym AND walked the dog. doesn't matter how much saltwater fell, all's well that ends well...

+++++++

finally...when i was cleaning out my stuffed-up inbox, i actually got around to reading my GLOSS report...i'm so glad that i did...they commenced the newsletter with the following blurb:

"GAY BOUQUET! Just a little information on this story. An email went out and has been sent around the world. Now Gay friendly flower shops in the San Francisco area are getting thousands of calls to send wedding bouquets to city hall to gay couples standing in line to get marriage licenses. Notes are simple.. "with love from the Lower East Side" ( I sent my arrangement this afternoon..) It's an outpouring of love coming from people all over the world.. gay and straight.. The flower shop I used said they were expecting it to be busier than valentines day. I used Mariner and Company Flowers and spoke to someone named Jim there. He said that they are getting so many calls that one truck is going to and from city hall as fast as it can. He is getting calls from all over the country - his number is 800-797-7744...they are calling this "the big gay bouquet" .

This is the email being sent out;
Just a few minutes ago, I called a gay-friendly flower shop in San Francisco and ordered an arrangement sent to City Hall. I told them to deliver to any couple -- it didn't matter who -- standing in line to get married, with my blessing. The card will read simply "With love, from Minneapolis, Minnesota." Once they understood, they were very touched and thought it was a great idea. And that's when I thought, man! wouldn't that be cool if people from all over the country, gay, straight and otherwise, started sending flowers to the people in line to get married. So, I'm e-mailing everyone I know! Feel free to pass this along. We're calling it the Big Gay Bouquet. I have a feeling that any Bay-Area flower shop, perhaps even doing FTD through your local florist, could work."

i don't know why this affected me so powerfully, but it did. i had tears in my eyes. it made me remember the newspaper article i read earlier in the day, that discussed this gay man from dallas...he was so inspired by what was going on in SF, he jumped on a plane and came right over...on his way from SFO to city hall, he bought six dozen roses. when he finally reached his destination, arms overflowing with flowers (i keep picturing diego rivera) he started handing single roses to all the people waiting in line, in the rain. i have lived in dallas, and my sympathies go out to anyone who's queer in texas. hell, it's hard to be straight in texas, if you're not narrow. don't twist my words-- i actually didn't mind dallas...in fact, Highland Park would be an ideal place to be a mom...but i'm hetero. i could do that. legally. fearlessly. freely.

i wish someone had captured that picture-- the man trying to hold 72 roses, joy and nervous excitement apparent on his face. there's just something about strangers being hyper-kind to each other that makes me happy to live in this world.

good night...

february 23

weight: 123
bodyfat: 19

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: too exhausted!
write: :)
dog: see: gym

i've been reconfiguring typepad, and now i'm soooo spent. but it's all worth it, right? when my dear blog looks and works better, i'll be so much happier. i also put up my first real album, chock full of pictures from sunday's phenomenal bar mitzvah party...(now you know why i was tired!)

haven't had the time/energy to flog, and so many of you want to see what i wore, so i learned how to do this properly, and it's not bad! eerily like fotolog...yet not. i don't think i'll give up my day flog. ;)

i watched the fast and the furious tonight. for the first time. i am surprised to note that i loved it. it could even make the prospect of moving to LA tolerable ;) that, and unlike someone uber-dear to me, i have decided that i DON'T hate vin diesel, even though he's a meathead. but hey, i said i appreciated him, that doesn't mean that i would DATE him. (i have this thing about dating meatheads, boys who use too much product in their hair, fake brown thugs etc) i remember all the fuss about this movie, and how i had so much going on, it wasn't really a priority for me to go and see...but i do remember making fun of my guy cousins for thinking that mia was cute...unibrow chick? are you fucking kidding me? jordana brewster is a plain, plain girl. i am thrilled to report that after actually viewing the flick, i TOTALLY stand by my initial, baseless claim that the other girl was hotter. all of my cousins thought i was an idiot.

well.

"letty" is my girl. she wrenches on her own ride, races (and spanks boys) on her own, is passionate, loyal...how anyone can choose milquetoast mia over luscious letty is far, far beyond my powers of comprehension.

+++

in other news, i got stalked via AIM by a friend's sad ex-gf.

PunjabiprincSANE: hi, you don't know me but I know your friend ____, I went out with him for a very long time... according to him you guys have never messed around-- is this true? I don't really give a shit if you both have-- i just don't like him lying about his relationship with you...

here's a stepladder bitch, get the FUCK over yourself. NOW. seriously...

what did i do, you ask?

i did nothing. i didn't respond. i was actually being a proper buddhist for once--despite being hooked by FATF...a truly anti-zen movie if there ever were one-- and all that kept coming to mind (besides the absolute truth that i need to get some NoS for my baby) were thoughts of...ugh...compassion.

like..."this is kind of pathetic...i feel bad for this very unhappy girl." and "haven't we all been in that awful place where we've done things that are consummately lame?". then my mean-spirited, old-testament-toting Christian reared her vituperative "eye for an eye" head, and it was OVER. i remembered that my friend broke up with her YEARS ago, and that she stalks my blogs, flogs AND friendster profile, jealously. she's constantly noting if he gets mentioned, flogged or if he's in one of my pictures. it just so happens that he IS in one of my friendster pics, and the hilarious thing IS, "prnces", i was about to take down that picture. suddenly i'm seized with an exhaustion so thorough, i'm afraid i'll just have to leave it up.

anyway.

it's so late...i can't believe it's 6am. would have gone to bed, but i haven't written in a few days, and i felt bad, b/c this is part of my new year's resolutions. all you need to know is:

1) ankle is okay

2) flu seems to have cleared up...finally!

3) i had a BLAST at the bar mitzvah

4) i made the most sinfully ridiculous grilled provolone on sourdough with arrabiata sauce shmeared inside, so it tasted pizza-esque. and i used olive oil instead of butter. viva italia etc. b/c all of this wasn't yummy enough, i took shredded parmesan and asiago cheese and sprinkled it on the OUTSIDE and let it melt there too, where it hardened in to this glorious, fatty, salty shell. oh but when i'm on, i'm ON. ;)

off to dream of evening gowns, glitter and driving 140 mph...

A :)

february 19

weight: 124
bodyfat: 21

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: pukey!
write: :)
dog: see: gym

despite the overwhelming desire to empty my insides that dominated my day...i was remarkably effective. i had a huge to-do list item that got delayed yesterday due to search engine-related trauma...and i nailed it. done. such a good feeling to tackle the ugly tasks and NAIL THEM. i even managed to talk northwest airlines in to accepting the ticket i flaked on and that i possibly lost...not only do i have a new ticket to new york (!!!) i'm getting such a great deal, there will be travel voucher loooove left over. :D i tell you, when i'm on, i'm on.

so. i woulda been poshitively giddy (can't you tell? more stuff on this blog today...i write when i'm happy!) except i had the most violent nausea this side of pregnancy. gah. i'm scared of puking, too, so that just compounds my misery. also, a point of information: i've NEVER puked in a toilet. i refuse to. decades ago, my father was horrified at this custom..."you're telling me to put my baby's face where i empty my ASS? what the fuck is wrong with you!" meanwhile, i was wobbling with queasy violence. "latha, do it in the tub!" and with that, he grabbed both of my pigtails out of the way with one hand, held me with his other and leaned me over the bathtub. i wept while he yelled. "out with it!" but i'm scared, daddy, i whimpered. "it needs to come out!" despite my vain attempts to dispute this, he was right and my insides were soon outside. on went the shower as my pigtails once again swung free. nastiness promptly flowed down the drain. shower off, back at sink...handfuls of clean water rushed to my bruised lips "rinse!"..."again!" my father was never gentle with me. he washed my feverish face with the same force he applied when waxing his antique car. time after time, his excessively strong hand splashed my face with warm water as his palm seemed to rearrange my features.

then his thorthu exfoliated me. if i wasn't woozy enough from losing all of my tummy, THAT clean-up ritual was enough to knock me flat. mid my wobble, his right arm swept under me and made static electricity noises with my pink, ruffled minnie mouse pajamas. lift. i was gliding through the air, half conscious, up, up and away. within seconds i was in daddy's bed. a sheet was yanked over my face and then perfunctorily flipped under my chin. "call daddy if you vomit again, " he warned, in malayalam. i was beyond traumatised. i was still shaking with fear. vomiting was such a violent process. a pitiful whimper started to leave that sad place which exists in the back of one's throat...and before i could complete it, he turned around. a babydoll swiftly appeared from somewhere and found her way to my left. i had just enough energy to push my left arm underneath her and turn, half collapsing over her. "don't trow up, Lilymon. it hurts." i admonished. and then, finally, i was able to rest.

so. there you have it. i didn't intend to have this flashback at 4:45 in the fucking morning, but i did. i wish that i still had lily and a dad to fret over me gruffly. but i don't. and i still won't puke where you empty your ass.

february 18

weight: 124
bodyfat: 21

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: rest
write: YES (sachdoc)
dog: yes...we played outside for a few hours. brushed and vacuumed her too.

wow. well, let's hope that i got all the icky days of 2004 OUT of the fucking way...b/c i've just had an abominable 24 hours of bad news. surely you were all keenly aware of some sort of serious disaster...my last post gives you four-thousand words about my state today...

let's name it...missouri. we all know that i am terrified of the vast middle of america, that i cling to my beloved paranthesis...i'm a coastal girl, consummately. so. today was VERY missouri. frank black's voice wafts eerily through my head..."i'm in a state, i'm in...a state...". wow. that's my favourite pixies song of all time. when i was flirting with the only boy i've ever been in love with, and i found out that he loved the pixies, i put those lyrics (and more of them) up on an away message that he was delighted to receive. "i'm in a state..."

amazing how your life just keeps going in circles.

when i got part 2 of my bad news this afternoon, the news that would put me over the top and in...to..."missouri"...the boy who appreciated brown eyes was the first person to respond to my modern SOS. three messages sent out: the first via blackberry, the second via AIM, the third avec good ol' email. they answered in almost that order. NY, CT and IN...so weird. tears and pleas stretch like elastic to three disparate states, all the way from arnold-land...and as elastic is wont to do, post-stretch, it snapped, and suddenly i was surrounded, virtually, by people who knew, understood, cared. emails, voicemails, AIMs...it was enough to get me out of "missouri", i tell you.

i know that i am lucky, b/c when i fell, angels raced to my side. one of them famously remarked, "normally i'd mock you, but even i can see that this is just a time when you need a hug." indeed. another angel ranted in to an AIM message box, cursing anyone who creased my brow, inspired my tears, resisted my charm, underestimated my potential. my final angel, the archangel, if you will...simply wrote what i needed to read. and far more significant than THAT, he meant it.

i am surrounded by angels.

even furry ones, who, when offered a treat, snap their jaws with a force that recalls sharks, even those four-legged angels rise up on hind legs, push open a patio door, bound in and sniff and lick me. unable to see my face, rani delicately picked up sections of my wild, wavy, product-free mane with her teeth. one-by-one, she moved them to the other side of my head, painstakingly revealing my face. which she nudged. i looked up at her, breaking the no-dogs-in-the-house rule. at THAT moment, i was beyond grateful for her. i gave her a hug while she patted my knee with her paw. remember, anna, that there are millions who don't even have THAT love available to them. i closed my eyes to memorize this magical bit of grace and then thought one better; i turned on the camera.

rani. the next time you break a fence, dig your way free or otherwise confound us with your awe-inspiring ability to disappear at will...i will look at that picture before i turn purple and shriek at you in malayalam. i will remember that when i was alone, in this big sad house, with my mommy on the other side of the world, my sister estranged and my father lost...when every other angel was defeated by geography...you looked up, the moment you heard my sobs, ears pointed and alert...strode deliberately to the door and made an instant decision to intervene. when no one else was or could be here, you were. i love you rani patti. final bit of my father left here on earth to love and watch over me... :)

oh it was such a soul-bleeding sort of day. i felt emotionally pale. i felt like a ghost, haunting myself. i've been through enough, and just when you think you've dealt with things and worked through them, and left them in the past...they come back and have their way with you, and you're back to feeling hopelessly despondent. apparently, i can never be present, b/c my past isn't done with me. sigh.

i'm going to focus on what's positive:

1) my dog rocks

2) my ankle hurts WAY less

3) it was sunny for the first time in days

4) i got an impromptu malayalam lesson as someone got "used" for a higher purpose (oooma GT)

5) christopher robin tried to cheer me up, and he sent me something VERY interesting (more later)

6) fluid CEO somehow picked the perfect time to call me from the first-class lounge in auckland, just to say "hi!" it was right after today's bit of nastiness...as soon as he heard the tears in my voice, he stayed on the phone for 30 minutes, trying to make me laugh, trying to distract me...his flight was boarding, but he stayed on as long as he possibly could w/o losing his seat...b/c it was important to him that he talk to me and that i was okay...

7) my college sweetheart was the last person to surprise me tonight...i never get to talk to him. i see him maybe once a year and we speak to each other maybe four or five times during the same period...this "distance" is always bittersweet; we were best friends before we ever started dating. and we dated a second time, after college...he's very dear to me. he, too went out of his way to make me feel better in his inimitable way...no bullshit, no spin.

"of course it's b/c you didn't go to stanford. but that's okay. you're still intelligent and accomplished. there are plenty of other places in the valley...some other company will be lucky to have you. then you will move laterally. done."

and with THAT, i finally exhaled. well, that and the promise of back-cracking hugs. i'm an overgrown toddler. when things REALLY go south, i will yearn for the nearest, safest lap and i'll want hugs. lots of hugs. i woulnd't trade the voicemails/texts/emails and AIMs for *anything*...but they are intangible. i really knew everything would be okay when i found out that he was making time to take me to his favourite italian restaurant...and that i was getting bear-hugged.

"you give the best hugs."

'oh anneke. fat people always do!' :D

R, i love you. i can live with not getting my dream job, b/c davis instead of columbia meant YOU. -totter.

8) i'm a very blessed, lucky girl. so many people care and worry and try...and the vast majority of them have never even met me. blows my mind, every time. whew. suddenly, i'm not so sad after all...

february 17

weight: 123
bodyfat: 20

kcal: i ate so much i felt sick.
vasa: ?

gym: cybex45, arms, abs (not obliques)
write: no
dog: yes and i'm a fucking saint. busted ankle? rain? naughty undeserving dog? mm-hmmm!

i made seven-cheese tortellini in pink sauce (an extra rich alfredo--i.e. enriched with cream and 40 g of provolone-provided FAT-- with sun-dried tomato/pomi) and ate it with that artisan roasted garlic bread. and i had tea while i was concocting the above. i had so much fun cooking-- i don't really ever get to, since this is mom's kitchen and so i know better-- i didn't realise that i sort of missed it. it's been a year (!) since i made anything that required effort. wow. i do not, however, miss a SINK full of dishes and pots and whatever. i miss having a boyfriend to take care of all of that. K was a bastard, but he was flawlessly angelic when it came to THAT. i cooked and then left the kitchen. he handed me pista kulfi ben and jerry's and the remote, on my way out. and you wonder why we lasted eighteen months.

anyway.

all of that...eating...made my tummy hurt. i don't think i can handle an ass-load of calories all at once...not with my appetite as fucked up as it is...so i passed out. and didn't get to write this. hmmm. i wonder if THAT'S why i slept almost normally...post-prandial exhaustion? interesting. don't get too excited, i'm not eating a dinner like that again. that was the worst. owwwwww. i'm not like all you omnivores and carnivores. i don't know what it's like to want to explode post-thanksgiving. this pain is very new to me. gah. >:(

i probably wouldn't have taken the time and trouble to do this retroactive diary, but i was SO proud of myself for going to the gym, despite the ankle. that was one of the fiercest workouts i've done in forever. hanging upside down and doing slooooooow crunches is remarkably satisfying. feel the burn, indeed.

i'd write more but it is GORGEOUS outside and i'm going to avail. it's been murky nasty for the last several days, and more storm is around the corner. so if you'll exsqueeze me, i gots to go work on my tan. ;)

++++++++++
private script: i have the best lawyers EVER. merci edb et tan. :) :) :)

february 15

weight: 123
bodyfat: 20

kcal: :(
vasa: :(

gym: ankle
write: yes
dog: no, ankle. that and i hate her.

i'm so tired and achey. i couldn't even muster the energy to make dinner. i woke up to a neighbour pounding on my door-- she was holding my **&*^%^$!@%+ dog by the collar. rani escaped. again. she was gone for a few hours, apparently, running aimlessly up and down the street. "i thought she looked familiar, so i checked with the other two families that have german shepherds...they said they still have their dogs. so i thought he must be yours."

no matter how clearly i said "she" or "her", i.e. "thank you SO much for bringing her home, she's so naughty!" the neighbour kept saying "he." sigh. the neighbour had a corgi. that alone made her look strange. this small beady-eyed fluffball kept looking up at her in the oddest way. meanwhile my worthless dog was looking mighty pleased with herself. i was livid.

i don't know how she escaped since she was locked in, but let me tell you, there is NOTHING more that i wish to do on a sunday than repair fences and muck about in the back-fucking-yard when MY ANKLE IS HURT. she wasn't even sad or repentant! i took mom's glove and bopped her gently on the nose-- i said "bad doggy! bad, bad rani! i am SO disappointed in you. you know you aren't allowed out without me!" she took one look at me and then had the nerve to pick up her right paw and smack the back of my hand with it twice...almost a "there, there...you are useless. do not worry about it." then she grinned at me.

i told her she was grounded and i gated the back garden-- no more taking a dump on mom's prized roses for YOU, you BITCH. that effectively cut her play space in half...but don't feel sorry for her. we have the largest backyard in the neighbourhood. it's why we bought the damned house. when i tried to scold her again, she wobbled a bit on her feet, rolled over on her side and threw her paw melodramatically across
her face. drama queen! she pulled out every trick in the book. she tried to shake my hand with each paw. she flattened her ears. gave me puppy dog eyes.

and i fucking crumbled.

i just shook my head and went in. and then after an hour, i fed her bacon. but *i* got the last laugh. it was veggie bacon. rani, you got all excited for SOY. HA! take that you houdini-wannabe.

between dealing with all of that and going to costco to gas the civ, pick up freshly baked bread and some milk (vitamin D! the first time WHOLE MILK has been purchased in this house in a few years. i just started to feel like putting half and half in my cereal was egregious. but damn it's good.), i was exhausted. my ankle was throbbing despite the 800 mg motrins i was snorting. i came back home, unloaded the car and tried to convince myself that i should go do arms at the gym. ankle is already fucked, so no use "resting" now. that and you don't use your ankle for bis and tris.

i didn't go. i started watching extreme home makeover on ABC and i was hooked. the product placement was the best i've ever seen-- it didn't even hit me until now that the reason why this week's family went to disneyworld is b/c disney owns abc. wow. i was just excited for the three little kids, b/c they were going to the happiest place on earth. it was so sweet. i got teary-eyed at least three times, but that's okay, so did the half-queer design team. you see, the daddy in this story had been in iraq for ten months. and abc brought him home for this show, to surprise his family. how can you NOT get verklempt at that? also, since all three little boys are in little league, they got the dodgers ground crew to create a mini-ballpark in the backyard...exactly 1/7 scale. that house looked amazing when they were done. i was especially in love with the boys bathroom...they turned it in to a working carwash (pipes raining down water and foamy soap, installed in the ceiling!!! a lit sign that said "wash in progress!") with pedestal sinks. i want that bathroom. it just looked so FUN.

i should've ate something at this point but i was truly not feeling well.

i don't know where the last few hours went, but i didn't achieve my goal of putting new content on all four pieces of anna-land...the flog, arguably the most popular element, remains untouched. it's just so much work...it takes me quite a while to put captions together and collage pics...that and i'm on dial-up so it takes forever. i got weary just thinking about it. but what's in my purse and HERSTORY both have new stuff. three out of four sites with new content ain't bad...

i got to talk to my mommy today...it was AWESOME. i called her about two hours ago. she was so giddy.
"guess where i am, latha?"

i don't know mummy...delhi?

"i'm standing in front of the taj."

i started screaming. no fucking way! take pictures! that's amazing! she was so happy...but she was also worried about me. i told her i wasn't eating as much.

"when you find a job, your appetite will come back. it always does. just try to eat a little bit every day."

sigh. i have to force it, but i will.

"what else is going on?"

rani ran away. AGAIN!

mummy laughed. "don't worry about it. just let her go. she'll learn her lesson. she knows better. you know that she's looking for me, right?"

yeah. i figured.

"lock her up in the dog run. take away her play privileges-- if you keep her in there she'll miss the lawn and the patio and she'll behave. you shouldn't be dealing with that with your ankle. don't go looking for her if she pulls this again, you promise me? she knows her way home. don't worry about her."

i don't know...but all right.

"have you talked to any boys?"

sure. um. i guess. i'm not exactly trying. but i got a message from a catholic boy in nyc who went to cornell--

"not one of THOSE again! stop it! we're not going down THAT road. is he an engineer too?!"

no. he's not. but we chatted online once or twice.

"good. you should just be open to things, that's all i ask. until someone puts a ring on your finger, you are single."

uh, okay. WHATEVER.

"any others?"

um. truthfully, i spoke to two malayalee boys last week. both are catholic. i also got an email from some marthoma kid in nyc. (all true! i spoke to two on AIM and got an email via browndating. i'm not lying if i omit that i'm just friends with all three. whatever your parents need to hear, to keep them happy...)

"that's excellent! see, you're trying. that's all anyone here wants to hear."

no. they want to hear wedding bells. and i'm tone deaf.

"what else?"

hmmm. i can't find my registration sticker for the civic.

"it's there. look through my office. i know i paid for it. tell me what else you're doing."

uh. um. hmmm. oh! i fasted on friday. and the friday before.

"good girl! i'm proud of you. i'm so pleased that you did what i asked."

right. i neglected to tell her that it's easy to fast when YOU HAVE NO APPETITE. thank goodness she didn't make the connection.

"oh! what do you want from delhi?"

clothes. bindis. bangles. loads of bindis. you can never have enough. you know me, just buy anything that you think i'd like.

"what kind of bangles?"

oh the coloured fun kind...and make sure they fit, my wrists are tiny now. i just want an alternative to gold. so something that goes with my indian clothes...you know my colours. i'm ALWAYS wearing gold. don't you think costume jewelry would be fun?

"yes. i still haven't found a lengha i like for you. they're all...long."

the top? oh. well, if it's pretty, i guess that's fine. whatever, mummy.

"no, i like the one karan bought you from delhi. i like your first one too. both of those have cropped tops."

true. i prefer them short as well. 'specially now that i'm scrawny. but if it's not in style you won't find it. i have no idea how this stuff works. i don't even remember what boutique he went to in delhi. just don't worry about it. you could bring me twenty packages of bindis and i'll be blissed. i'm all out of them.

"another pashmina?"

um...i think i'm good. i'm awfully enamoured with my original.

"that's five years old. it's abused. you carry it around like that kid on the charlie brown cartoon."

whatEVER. i don't need one, thanks. and i do NOT schlep it around like i'm linus.

"okay, i have to go...but be good. eat something. try and be well."

i miss you mummy. and i love you. have fun.

"i miss you so much! and i love you. this is uncle's mobile number, so save it if you need me. okay? good-bye..."

february 14

weight: 123
bodyfat: 19

kcal: half and half in EVERYTHING
vasa: 50

gym: ankle
write: yes
dog: no, ankle.

happy lupercalia, to my ancients! yeah, you heard me. this valentine's crap is lame. i'm all about a holiday that revolves around liquor, lust, revelry and half-naked boys of noble extraction running around whipping girls. HA! bet you want to click the link NOW don't you??? :)

who was my valentine this year, many of you were so nosey to inquire?

was it the captain?

the worldly CEO?

abhi "photoshop star" tripathi?

sigh.

none of the above, actually. it was my booboo. :) he was the only one who sent me a valentine on time and he spent a few hours with me today. i wasn't expecting any of that-- after all, i'm not a big fan of this holiday. so that made it all the sweeter.

i didn't do anything of note, thanks to the ankle. i DID however make amazing chai with Half-and-Half...oh it's good to be me. ;) part of me felt awful though...ankle prevented me from walking my cute canine. she totally hates me. i can tell. the dark looks. the growling. the evil barking. i mean, the melodrama really spiked today. well, at least she's in the right home for all that. ;) on this festive lupercalia, i suddenly am seized with a wistful longing for my first puppy-- he was part wolf. how apposite is THAT.

well, dear departed little wolf up above...i miss you and wish you were here, on this wolfiest of holidays.

oh, let's hope i wake up early enough for church tomorrow. if i flake, i'm forcing myself to go to yoga, as punishment. i fucking HATE yoga. which is not to say that i loathe church so much that i need to threaten myself...i just have issues waking up after TWO MONTHS of insomnia. whatever. we'll see if it works. i haven't had "jesus inside" in months and it shows.

february 13

weight: 123.5
bodyfat: ?

kcal: it's friday
vasa: 58

gym: ankle
write: yes
dog: no, too late.

i was away for a few days...didn't think any of you would really notice or mind, since the comments weren't exactly steamrolling me :) i'm sure you all had plenty to do whilst preparing for lupercalia, and THAT is why no one realised that i was gone. it's not like it's easy to procure goats in this day and age. ;)

when i think of this week it's dominated by tuesday, the most perfect day i've had in months. i had lunch with my beloved bestest friend from high school, eileen perfume and then drove down to the peninsula where i kitten-napped and got ready for my big night out. first crush was amazing and the "Lion King" was sublime. in fact, i think i am still feeling "Lion King" afterglow, and that has kind of altered my reality for a few days. i was just so happy and moved...i was passing out with a smile on my face for the last few nights vs staying up at all hours blogging.

and THEN on thursday/yesterday, i rolled my ankle. and that meant that i was totally out of it thanks to painkillers and pain that wasn't addressed by killers. and not in that good, sort of loopy "oooh this just improved my writing!" kind of way. so there you have it. i was out of town, i saw the best musical to hit SF since "Rent" and my ankle is SHIT. that about sums things up nicely. it's late and i've been resisting sleep b/c this sort of "tired" feels weird (i'm trying a different sleep aid.) stupid, silly anna. just go with it. even if it means you are going to miss yoga at 10am. eh, what do you care. you fucking hate yoga. it makes you too impatient. which is always, obviously, the point. ;)

february 9

weight: 125
bodyfat: 21

kcal: :)
vasa: 40

gym: lats, rhomb, all 3 delts, back and chest
write: yes
dog: no, too late.

took sleeping pill. took too long writing post below. took my ass to bed, b/c i'll be damned if i'm tired at The Lion King tomorrow...

february 8

weight: don't know
bodyfat: don't fucking care

kcal: HELLO jack in the crack and grilled cheese LOVE...
vasa: who needs water? i'm DRUNK!

gym: no, i'm off today :)
write: see above
dog: see above? see above THAT!

random aim blurb for you to "eavesdrop"...

politicaldesi: we are not fated to communicate via blog, no. but we are also not fated to delight in each other's oratorical fabulousness tonight either...i got all your msgs but i am drunk and going to bed...good night, fairest blogger ;-)

gorgeous sinner: Good night sweet princess. May flights of angels sing you to your (hungover) rest :-)

politicaldesi: *swoon* O:-)

ohhhhhh. fat = love.

went to google all tipshy with the captain b/c he had work to do...got to run amok amongst the lava lamps et al. raided the snack bar for organic tangerines and then string cheese...painted in my sketchbook...wrote in my journal...and then when my blood sugar TANKED and i put my head down and napped like it was grade school and i was playing "head's up 7-up", he lovingly picked me up out of the ergonomic chair and put me on something lovely and comfy-- one of the ridiculously plush over-sized google beanbags. it was like being small only FUNNER. come to think of it, all of the google office space sorta reminds me of Romper Room. i didn't want to leave. my nap was amazing. that bean bag was the BEST. yum.

when i reluctantly got marched outside ("but don't you have more work to do? i don't WANNA leave!")
and put in the happy yellow jeep, i realised that i was suddenly starving. hadn't had anything since the grilled cheese and tomato panini and the four Gold-and-cokes...so it was off to jack in the crack. oh my dear lord there is NOTHING finer than grease when you are DRUNK off your ASS. cheddar-stuffed jalapenos, crispy curly fries and chocolate milkshakes are better than sex when you're reeling from a johnny walker-induced swoon. ;)

anyway. it's time for this little kitten to purr and sleep. i will flog tomorrow...nothing crazy, but there are pictures of me eating the aforementioned grease-fest...and we all know that some of you sick fucks live to see me put stuff in my mouth via the flog. *shaking head*. whatever floats your yachts. ;) i need to go pass out in a fat and sugar-laced coma.

february 7

weight: 124
bodyfat: 22

kcal: i'm being naughty...
vasa: if the ice cubes in my gold and coke count...

gym: no, i'm off today :)
write: see above
dog: see above? see above THAT!

i'm far away today :) but the good news is, thanks to an indecent amount of JW and loads of hugs, i took two naps. i needed them. got 5.5 hours of sleep last night after passing out around six a.m....and then i spent 90 minutes in bumper-to-insanity traffic...so i was on the road for almost 3 hours. lovely. happily, i'm getting spoiled rotten, (massage, brie and apples from yuppie foods, leeekor, and then the two things i've been waiting for for two weeks-- jack in the crack in the jeep AND frog cookies, oh and all the affectionate attention ain't bad either. so it was worth it. it didn't seem like it at the time (i loathe traffic more than almost anything), but suffering was short-lived and the bliss continues. it compounds, even. i just finished gleefully watching this movie i LOVE...suddenly i know who i make lane changes like. ;)

" (anna) turns out, despite (her) initial air of callous and self-serving indifference, to be a criminal-type with a heart of gold..."

yeah, yeah...i borrowed that line from IMDB, but i like it, so fuck you if you don't. it really speaks to me. i mean, everyone thinks i'm such a self-centered bitch, and really, just like frank martin, *i'm* the good one. ;) oh, who lets me WRITE this shit? 3:30 in the morning and i'm identifying mightily with a campy action hero. fabulous. :) :) :) i will say, for the record, that the only "normal" BMW i'd ever drive (the old 8-series and the newer z8 don't count) *is* a black 1999 735i. with the same shocks. ;) this makes me sad though, b/c i just remembered what the 7-series now looks like and i had to cringe. what the fuck are those propeller-heads thinking? that is the ugliest "luxury" car out there. blech. someone needs to show the BMW execs this movie, and then they need to put a gun to their heads while they reverse their design direction. gah.

what else happened today...spanked a ford mustang GT on the way down on behalf of free speech...i was giggling ridiculously when i finally saw the driver of that sad only-works-on-straightaways piece of SHIT and...are you ready for this?

he had a mullet.

dear lord. that made spanking him even more fun. oh, but my car just purrs at 95. at 100 it's even more delectable. if i hadn't had the testicular fortitude to push it almost 20 miles PAST that, then the GT would've won...but...we all know that i have nuts to spare...and mullet man didn't. that and the civic takes curves like a champion compared to those fix-or-repair-daily (hey kids, turn that in to an acronym. yay!) travesties. speed makes me very happy. yum. i did feel a twinge of guilt at burning through half-a-tank of gas thanks to traffic and my antics...but...yeah, i'm already over that. i drive a ULEV, gas-resistant car. i can be a punk once in a while. they need to play the only honda commercial that's cool WAY more often. "civic nation. represent." one. word. whatever. ;)

i'm all up in car-mode tonight, yeah?

guess that's what happens when i'm happy. :)

'night...

february 6

weight: 126
bodyfat: 22

kcal: it's friday.
vasa: eh

gym: quads 40/hams 60/calves/ 55
write: :(
dog: ONE MILE! amongst the post-rain worms and snails. *shudder* i'm a saint.

i really need to start writing these earlier...i'm so exhausted right now. :(

there were so many things i wanted to write down, too...so weird, while i was out walking i remember thinking i should just leave a word document open all day and add to it as stuff plays on my mind...b/c i KNEW this was going to happen. end of the night and i'm too tired to write. blech.

i AM proud of myself re: going to the gym though...i've been mainlining motrin for 48 hours now and so leaving the couch took some discipline. what really amazed me is when i took the dog out at 10pm. (dear overprotective men in my life: it had been raining all day and it had just stopped around then.) who's responsible and dutiful and shit? I AM! i haven't walked her all week (after her houdini impersonation, i wasn't quite in the mood to be sweet) and i felt like she deserved it. i was checking her water dish and she just looked so sad and lonely. i can only be gazed at piteously for so long before i crack. she is allowed three dog biscuits a day, but at that point i gave her five. she knows the drill, she has to sit and stay before she gets one...but she was just so tentative. she was almost shaking. sooo anxious. uncle "sam" said i had to establish that i was "alpha" etc but i don't know if i like that...sure, she's obedient now, but as someone who revels in disobedience, i find this all rather disconcerting. disturbing. distressing, even.

blah blah blah...

oh, i'm just avoiding so many things...there's been DRAMA tonight...

:( yesterday the haters were all located in brasil...tonight they were far more local. yuck. whenever i see those bumper stickers that say "mean people suck", i roll my eyes at how lame, trite etc...but tonight, i kind of understand the sentiment. maybe i should just stay off AIM. that's where all of today's nastiness occurred...

whatTHE FUCKever, though. that thought just irritates me. AIM is hyper-useful to me. my baby cousin at UCLA and i chat daily, sometimes for an hour or more, and he's the only man in my life right now that i totally depend on and love and adore. upon reflection, every other AIM interaction was sweet...i finally virtually met my blogger-crush of the week, the absolutely fabulous "sin" (i dream of him playing the will to my grace...eh, who am i kidding. i may be flat like the redhead, but i'm all karen).

then, someone random said "hi, i love your flog" just as i was about to cancel it! (did i TELL you everything happens for a reason! i MEAN it!)...we went on to have this amazing chat about being mallu and creative, hip-hop, cruisers vs sport bikes, painting and of course, how malayalee haters are the WORST haters of ALL. (yes sin darling, worse even than the "knees" of karachi.)

i'll let you eavesdrop on another bit of AIM love i rec'd. my fave ceo totally surprised me by logging on from melbourne to cheer me up after yesterday's fotolog fiasco:

Fluid mod-911: some of those comments were...interesting
politicaldesi: totally ruined my day, i deleted almost 80% of the worst...
Fluid mod-911: poor anna...come to melbourne i'll show u the sights...too bad it takes 14 hrs and i'm outta here on monday...to Auckland ;-)
politicaldesi: you'll be a kiwi!
Fluid mod-911: you want something kiwi-like? trinket?
politicaldesi: no, you shpoil me!
Fluid mod-911: it's settled. i'll get you a kiwi-like trinket. i already have an aussie trinket for ya :-)

Fluid mod-911: ahhhhhhhhhhhh. sorry, was a bug. aussie bugs are very big.
politicaldesi: eeek! i'm scared of bugs! as in, really scared
Fluid mod-911: aw, nothing to worry bout. i'll protect ya :-)
politicaldesi: you have no idea. i'm an uber-girly girl when it comes to some things
politicaldesi: snakes spiders snails slugs bugs...send me screaming
Fluid mod-911: hmm.. i like uber girly girls :-)

politicaldesi: i think i'm an uber-girly girl about almost everything actually...i just like wrenching on cars
politicaldesi: my new friend was like "you're a tomboy!"
politicaldesi: ME??? are you fucking kidding me?
Fluid mod-911: haha
politicaldesi: "well you changed your own oil"
Fluid mod-911: yeah...prada in hand.
politicaldesi: so? i did it in diesel and 4" heels.
Fluid mod-911: hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
politicaldesi: with lipgloss on and hair unmussed! tomboy...puh-lease.
politicaldesi: i like toys. that doesn't make me a boy ;-)

Fluid mod-911: hmm. again i ponder :-)
politicaldesi: ponder? what do you ponder?
Fluid mod-911: how you have not been swooped up by someone. though people ask me that, for me it was more of me being a complete idiot than anything...that and a few crazy ex's....
politicaldesi: sigh.

and that leads me to my next topic. marriage. my favourite ex-bf emailed me today about FIVE of his cousins who are getting married this year. i went to college with three of them, as well as the brother of the fourth. the fifth ate the halloween candy that my then-bf had bought to surprise me with, so i feel connected to him if only b/c i remember wanting intensely to throttle him, back during my freshman year.

so.

everyone is getting hitched, except me and my dear ex-. and we want nothing to do with such shtuff. despite this, i am amused to discover that several of my "readers" are now lobbying rather strongly for me to marry mad abhi, my fellow superhero in the league of bloggers (he and i link to each other). i can't get away from this shit. my mom goes to india for the first time in eleven years FOR a wedding, takes my nosey auntie and uncle from here WITH her, and i mistakenly believe that i'll be free of such pressures for a blissful few months. ;) oy vey, was i an idiot for thinking THAT.

random: i'm in LOVE with the AXE advert with the mosquito that gets devoured by the frog who shtups another frog who ends up on a plate of a rich old guy who fucks the hottie who ends up killing him and then the worms over his grave form a heart? except i always cringe at the worms (this should be expected after all you've read, no?). i love that song in the background, too...

see! that was one of the things i meant to tell you about...something that would've been in that responsible, well-planned word document i didn't open or write. well, at least i remembered ONE thing i that i wanted to...

ah, there's a yawn. RL sheets, electric blankie and feather comforter be callin' my name. i'm out like beta social networking websites. pax, y'all.

february 5

weight: 126
bodyfat: 22

kcal: eh
vasa: eh

gym: ha. too pukey and cramp-y
write: if insulting brasilians counts, yes.
dog: no, see gym excuse.

what a day...an earlier post contains my unhappy letter to fotolog.net re: the horrific technical difficulty that ruined my entire thursday...i don't want to rehash, b/c someone i love went OUT of their way to do something amazing for me, to cheer me up, and i'd prefer to focus on such sweetness vs negativity. that's the backstory behind the picture you see (is no portrait of me...it's too real to be shown to someone I don't know and it's driving me wild, it makes me act like a child).

SOMEONE is so understanding about my sadness today (and my sadness eternal b/c i'm not in nyc) that they are taking me to do something very new york. what makes this surprise ultra-extraordinary and "awww"-inducing is that i'm getting time they don't really have to spare from their 100-hour work week, and since i'm keenly aware of how busy they are, i'm massively grateful that i'm this loved.

see, it pays not to get *too* upset...everything always works out in the end. :)

nothing else really happened today b/c i spent the day anemic and nauseous. i'm so fragile. :( who made me a proper victorian heroine? anna no likey. seriously, what the FUCK. i wanna be a cowgirl, a bondgirrrl, a FIERCE girl. wah.

eh.

if baby is so cranky, she should get her arse to bed. and "uncle", you're a huge meanie for saying that my "ass is flatter than (my) stomach". :p

now if you'll excuse me, i need to go faint prettily, whilst waiting for the inevitable smelling salts. look away lest you be titillated by the sight of my ankle...

february 4

weight: 124
bodyfat: 21.5

kcal: :)
vasa: loads.

gym: bis and tris
write: yes
dog: no, didn't get the chance.

am so tired...it's 6:35 am, and i was just up all night working on something i've been procrastinating with...i'm finally sleepy, and i'm finally going to bed. it's somewhat sad, really...all through the day, i remember thinking "oh! i have to put this in diary!" etc. well. i'll give you a list, a la sachin, and that'll have to satisfy you AND me. somehow i think it's the latter that's going to like this solution least...

1) my favourite new blog linked to me (wheee! sincity!)
2) i battled nausea AND inertia and went to the gym 20 mins before they closed
3) i read "the automatic millionaire" and abruptly changed my life
4) i had to choose between pain and being sleepless, and i chose the latter. sigh. but the caffeine bomb...it fucking works.
5) i FINALLY wrote back to "admirer"
6) had an epiphany about T's bitchy, mean-spirited friends-- this is why i've had writer's block
7) i was featured on the front page of fotolog and it became a fiasco...so many comments, some of them massively inappropriate...finally had to just turn off comments entirely. :(

my eyes are sore and i feel like death. i'm going to make like a craven coward and run.

february 3

happy fractal day...to fellow fans of geniuses who don't have noses...

weight: 123
bodyfat: 21.5

kcal: :)
vasa: ?

gym: 32" interval training
write: :(
dog: no, she is STILL fucking grounded.

"Breathe out, langorously. Rub your eyes, stretch, shut the laptop, think sleepy thoughts (like a small marsupial in a tree) and crawl into your nest of blankets. Do not think anything until tomorrow. Nothing needs to be done or thought. Just turn into an Anna puddle of goo. It's all right."

yeah. think i'm going to go do just that. just reading it made me all shleepy. and happy. i really like it. thanks NS uncle... :)

not much to report today anyway:
1) ignored dog to punish her
2) went to costco w/o costco card {brilliant, anna}
3) had a fantastic run at the gym (flog at your leisure. i'm half-naked. and sweaty.)
4) found out more about the pixies touring schedule
5) TALKED TO MY MOMMY FOR 30 MINS!!!!!!!!

that last item got me ALL keyed up...spoke to her at 1:30am so i knew i wasn't going to sleep tonight. i don't want to write about it, b/c i'll lose this nascent, ephemeral shleepiness...just know that i was already having a lovely, calm, positive sort of day and then that phone call made me ecstatic. i love my mummy. and she loves me. yay!!!!!!!!!

tomorrow:
finish application for Nike
legs at gym
finish blog post(s)
laundry
costco
paint your toes.

february 2

weight: why bother
bodyfat: who knows

kcal: :)
vasa: 64

gym: a day of rest. i deserve it.
write: yes
dog: no, she is STILL fucking grounded.

still haven't been able to get hold of mummy. :( finally got desperate and called uncle's mobile in ernakalum. moms is "doing the shopping" he said. i needed to try another time. this was so frustrating. i found myself yelling in to the phone "can you TELL HER that i'm OKAY? please? TELL HER i've been TRYING TO REACH HER."

(must be, a devil, between us...or whores. i agree with black francis. always blame whores.)

what a waste of a day...was up ALL night, fell asleep after 8am, woke up at 12ish. every muscle in my arms, back, shoulders and legs is screaming for mercy thanks to my recent affection for the gym. it was gross outside. combined, all of this means that anna stayed in jammies, drank loads of tea, was utterly useless and finally passed out from 9-10:30pm. wow. i am just SO impressive. :)

fuck it, i'm not going to worry about it. i pushed myself SO hard at the gym these last few days, maybe my body really needed a gentle sort of monday. will was sweet enough to offer to deal with my lactic acid per my request, but as he pointed out, by the time he drove up from SoCal it's be pointless ;) doesn't mean i didn't entertain the concept though, after all, EVERYTHING ouched; when i coughed, my abs smarted. when i washed my hands, my lats and anterior deltoids throbbed. i avoided the stairs a few times b/c my calves were begging me NOT to go there. just wish i had gotten more writing done. every single time i tried, i'd zonk out in to this horrific state of liminal awareness. i felt like i was asleep but i wasn't. it was bizarre and disconcerting. if i can get 8 hours right now, i'm hoping tomorrow is a far more creative and productive day...all these blog posts are ready to go and just ROTTING in my brain...

night night

february 1

weight: 125 (don't get too excited. this is, ahem, temporary.)
bodyfat: 22

kcal: :)
vasa: 64

gym: lat pd 2x40, lat row 2x50, ant delts 2x20, m delts 2x20, upside down abs x30
write: yes
dog: no, she is fucking grounded.

i don't even feel like writing. i'm so tired. it's 6:26 in the morning (of the 2nd, actually) and i'm a zombie. what a day...woke up to doorbell going off-- it was my neighbour WITH MY DOG. somehow, rani ended up in her garage...i was mortified...spent an hour in the backyard trying to figure out how the fuck this happened and finally realised that my excessively brilliant dog removed part of the cattle fence that surrounds her dog run, pried up a board in the fence, and is able to squeeze through a space that is really no wider than 8-9 inches...even though she weighs close to 100lbs. have mercy. and she did the whole thing so cleanly no one could tell. i was livid. she was massively pleased with herself. i was sputtering. she was not taking me seriously. i told her she was grounded- no walk today. i'm such an ineffective dilettante...what's the point...

why didn't we buy me a stupid dog? i remembered today that we had nicknamed rani "houdini" when she was a wee puppy, b/c she escaped every enclosure she was ever put in, from the first day she was here. now that she's almost EIGHT i thought she had chilled a bit. ha.

so the first part of my day was spent with me fixing the aforementioned fiasco...do i look like i know how to fucking fix a fence? no? i know. no matter. it's fixed. and the dog is grounded. i don't care if she tried her signature trick, where she takes her left paw and wipes her downcast face (as if she were wiping away tears)...i hardened my heart a la G-d in the old testament. "be as cute as you want you little SHIT. you are DONE. mummy is going to KILL you when she gets home." geez. felt like i was talking to my little sister, for a minute there...

didn't really get to watch the superbowl or the queer eye marathon with the pudgesicle...i passed out from fence-fixing exhaustion for 90 minutes DURING the game. then i woke up, ran some errands and went to the gym. yay me. a few more trips to that overpriced den of vanity, and i'll be a 5x/week addict again...i already feel the gym bunny resurrecting, inside...

tried to call mom several times, couldn't get through. this really made me sad. :( i totally miss her, and that's our "deal"...i call her on sunday night...it's like our phone date...and this was the one call i'd been looking forward to more than any other. doesn't life always work that way? when you actually NEED something to happen...forget about it. that damned german shepherd got lucky, i tell you. i BEST remember this shit, so that i can rat her out when the alpha female IS home...

i should try to sleep. part of me asks, "why bother"?

sigh.

just got up to turn on electric blankie, in case i do feel like sleeping in the next 15 mins or so. i don't get it. i'm being good, no caffeine in several days, have been working out...my insomnia is WORSE, do you hear me (or read me, rather)...worse!

speaking of working out, OWWWWW. my calves. my hams. my quads. who wants to drive over and decimate the lactic acid that's ouching me? anyone? forgot to drink soy milk...apparently it helps with this painful nastiness. as much as it sucks, i'm vaguely proud of myself. i feel strong, like my muscles were just waiting to pop back out. bikini season, here i fucking come.

working out 3x a week was one of my NYResolutions...i should do a recap/review...a state of the resolutions, if you will, now that it's been a month. hmmm. maybe tomorrow...

p.s. just went upstairs to use my favourite toy, the deluxe braun oral b thing. i almost stumbled when i caught my reflection in the looking glass. um, can we say haggard? i have BLACK under my eyes. fanfuckingtastic. i haven't looked this busted in years. as in, the last time i did, someone DIED. sigh. i had gotten so used to the insomnia, i stopped taking it seriously. it was just there. i was learning to accept it. now i see the physical effects of it and suddenly i remember that insomnia is NOT what is normal or acceptable. sometimes, when you're a visual person, you need a...well, a visual to prove something.

january 31

weight: 123
bodyfat: 21.5

kcal: :)
vasa: 48

gym: legs (hams 2x40, quads 2x20 -ouch-, calves 3x50) abs (captain's x40, obliques 30 each).
write: yes
dog: no

took mom's car out today...finally. it still works and i'm grateful for that. took care of rani...did laundry etc. very blah day...still tired and achey...in fact, had such an awful headache that i almost didn't go to the gym. fif called a lot...i love the picture caller ID that flashes when she does; it's pudgesicle looking freaked out...always makes me laugh.

speaking of laughing...had fantastic AIM with booboo where i confessed that i love cooing at SA's bronze jeeped ganesa whilst tipsy..."oh ganesh, please remove this obstacle of tipshinesh from me" he typed...i laughed so violently that i almost dropped my computer :)

then he sent me this essay he had written for me, and i almost cried. some boys just have a remote control with all of my emotions on it, that's what i've concluded. well, maybe just one, for now...

tried the two-buck Shiraz today...a million times better than the beaujolais. if i don't get a migraine, we have a winner. anyway, church beckons, even though i love this disney movie ;)

january 30

weight: 122
bodyfat: 21.5

kcal: :)
vasa: 64!

gym: no.
write: yes
dog: yes! one mile +

i woke up at 2:15pm and the rest of the day was fairly worthless...after running around SF all day yesterday and then only falling asleep at 5ish, it was probably to be expected...i was exhausted. changed out of jammies briefly to take dog for walk, which was the most productive thing i did today. then came back in, showered and put on new jammies.

am so tired, i actually only posted pictures to the flog-- no captions yet...i'll do THAT tomorrow...hmm, hope i'm not coming down with bizarre asian bird flu thing. eek.

night night.

january 29

weight: 123
bodyfat: 21.5

kcal: :)
vasa: don't ask. two greco grande capps after kappi at home.

gym: no. but i think hiking down and up from coit tower totally counts
write: yes
dog: no. i SUCK.

i had such a good day :)

had so much fun with my newest friend, SAS, stayed in SF wayyy longer than i had planned to (which is always a good sign, no?) and fell in love with e's brain. i just love the way she thinks. how did i get THIS lucky? seriously, my best friend is hot AND smart. :)

got home at almost 2am...

can't believe i went to greco TWICE today. double the pleasure...

kept my promise to SAS, there was nothing but Pixies in the civic, all day. did my life really change? actually, it did. not just b/c i have a new friend-- but b/c my new friend is a bomb photographer, and he taught me stuff i never would've figured out. i LOVE learning shtuff. :)

all that caffeine has me wired. i just had some warm milk, hope it kicks in, i didn't sleep well last night at ALL...and i want a very active friday. the dog had been neglected, and i promised her a 1.5 mile walk, minimum. i know i neglected her today, but sometimes you just have to avail yourself of a rare opportunity...like when someone from nyc is in town, and you want to meet them for what will be the first of many times. i also love the fact that i was with E just *last* thursday...if i can keep seeing her weekly, i'll nail one of the NYResolutions i care most about. keep meaning to post those to the blog...maybe tomorrow. there's a post or three percolating in me head.

listened to the colloquial greek cd in the car on my way home from, 1-2am b/c the radio sucked...am THRILLED with how much greek i actually know/remember. how many languages DO i know...deep down...? hmmmm.

okay. shower and then bed. it's late enough. i'll flog tomorrow, during chocolate protein'd breakfast.

must remember:
"that's not MoMA."
chinese torchiere lamp lines in chinatown
candy from sfpd

"what police station do you work out of?"
"central."
"what's your name? oh...(nametag) eric a. ...do you know tim, he's also SFPD?"
"sure, i do. what's your name?
"anna."
"(looks me up and down) oh, it's YOU..."

harry potter statues
karate kid drums
anna signs- an= "safe" na= "a girl's name"

"you're so...cute."
"are you trying to say i'm STUPID?"
"noooo."

inefficient fashion
fishnets
"i will throw my body down, and GET you that parking space"

"is there anything you can't do? draw? can you draw? okay. you probably can't..."
"um, she paints."
"you can draw?! you paint!?"
" there are PLENTY of things i can't do, E"
"like?"
"find someone to marry me, find a job i like and will thus stay at for a year+...oh and raise my FICO"

"omgosh you save EVERYTHING...i LOVED that purse!"
we switch purses. :)

"hello, would you like best italian food in-"
"save it. i've been coming here 8 years."

annoying, lovesick waiters
"i WILL tongue you, if necessary. i have no issues with breaking his heart."

"i pretended to go down on harry potter"
"i can't take her ANYWHERE."
"look, i have pictures!"
"oh my GOD anna."

random, random, random. the whole day random.
to carpaccio or not to carpaccio
univision filming ugly white middle aged morons
"you're dressed to kill today."
squid ink linguini
"i'm kosher!"
"that does it. he keeps staring. prepare to get tongued."
"do you know where i can find an indian rabbi?"
"why do i have to rsvp? i'm FAMILY."
linux and penguins
oh wait, financial analytics. woops.
morgan-approved?

"she's SF's paris hilton."
"that works, b/c that would make you nicole ritchie."
"oh i don't know..."
"you're nicer and you have a bigger rack. you're nicole."

park slope is trendy, red hook is not.
"i can't say that i miss canal st."
you know tony kanal? "well...if he was on friendster..."
"you don't need queer eye." "no, he's queer!"

"we shouldn't talk about lipgloss..."
"no, E he's from NY! it's okay!"
"ohhh. you're a meterosexual!"

blog. blog blog. blog blog blog.
the american zoetrope offices

pbj everyday vs pbj virginity
"did peanut butter feel strange to you? the texture of it? were you prepared for how it sticks to the roof of your mouth?"
"yes, it was odd..."
"i can't believe you THOUGHT to ask him that! i LOVE how your brain works."

"you're the most beautiful friend that i have"
"i want that picture. it looks like a sari!"
"should we break in?"
no more flash

me almost breaking someone's face by UCSF
"let it go."
"see? THAT proves my point. CA are assholes, and NYers are the nice ones!"
"i know."
"a NYer would've been irritated, but they would've figured out we were getting directions. they're smarter, and less RUDE. oh, and that's why people didn't think i'm a CA."
"why's that?"
"i'm MEAN."

eighth? no, HAIGHT.
"keep the map? what do i look like, a girl?"

"i'm no tomboy!"
"you fix cars..."
"yes, in diesel and heels!"

opposites attract...sometimes.
"if i'm ever in new york, you're schlepping me all over brooklyn!"

january 28

weight: 121
bodyfat: 21.5

kcal: :)
vasa: 40

gym: no. tired and knee still injured.
write: yes
dog: no.

as you can see from the photo above and the post below, i was with my godson the pudgesicle today. :)
there are loads of pictures of this happy event on the flog, right now. he's soooo cute. it was a lovely way to waste a day. i haven't seen him in over a month, thanks to holiday insanity and other lameness. NOW my life feels normal again, now that i've been bit, drooled on, had my bracelets yanked and my hair stuffed in to someone's tiny mouth. :D

aside from that, i felt guilty that i didn't spend more time with rani...she actually whimpered at me today and started to cry...i felt like satan. :(

don't know if i'll get to chill with her tomorrow either, b/c i'll be out and all over the place...eeek.

went to "del taco" today for the first time, per S A's roomie's ridiculously glowing recommendation. it's good. will listen to roomie far more often now. had the spicy jack quesadilla, like he said to...wow. i couldn't believe it was fast food. okay, we have a new addiction to add to the jack in the box jalapenos and whataburger taquitos list. what a tiny list.

realised somewhat guiltily today that i am no longer a vegetarian, am rather a dairytarian. all i drink is milk, all i eat is cheese-laden things. this can't be good. i think it's been almost a week since i've had raw vegetables. :( bad, bad anna.

i can't do anything about that now, but i can go to bed. it's 3:12 am. seems like the right thing to do. had warm milk over two hours ago...it's finally kicking in.

'night...

p.s. while i sleep, perchance to dream, enjoy this picture of pudge opening my xmas gift to him...while he could care less about the outfit, he was thrilled with attempting to eat the tag...

january 27

weight: 121
bodyfat: 21.5

kcal: :)
vasa: 30

gym: no. tired and knee still injured.
write: yes
dog: yes! one mile walk.

i'm tired and i'm going to bed.

my whole day is totally well-recorded on the flog, so go there if you want a piece of me.

i'm so proud of myself for finally taking care of the DMV, mail, deluxe dog-walk needs etc now if only costco carried GOLD...the day would've been flawless. :)

'night

january 25

weight: 122
bodyfat: 20

kcal: :)
vasa: 40

gym: biceps and triceps :)
write: yes
dog: yes

i did three out of the four things on my to-do list today...and the fourth thing was kind of a joke anyway, so yay me. i washed my car for the first time in forever...it's so beautiful now. i wanted to fully detail, but i'm out of armour all. ;) of course washing my car just means that it is going to rain tomorrow. that's what ALWAYS happens. sigh.

two-buck-chuck SUCKS to drink but is great to cook with.

have to be up early tomorrow-- garage door is getting fixed. can't bleeding wait. i've been parking outside for days.

oooh! got to talk to mummy today...she sounds very happy. laughed a LOT about rani's depression and excessive sighing. i think she's happier that the dog misses her...even though i told her i really did too.

desultory, i know. it's late...i'm exhausted...just rewrote and rewrote and REWROTE the browndating profile for someone i adore. now it is worthy of them. as mr. peterman would say..."congratulations on a job...done."

i'm off to pass out for a few hours...head is pounding fiercely. owwwww. and i didn't even get to drink. damn.

january 24

beloved erstwhile-fat baby: G-d doesn't want me to blog . . .
politicaldesi: yes he does. try choosing a different username/pw
politicaldesi: and try one last time before i castrate them via email
beloved erstwhile-fat baby: ok

beloved erstwhile-fat baby: i'm telling you, divine intervention is pretty powerful
politicaldesi: and i'm telling you
politicaldesi: i always get my fucking way
politicaldesi: even if i get it when i no longer want it
politicaldesi: this time i want

beloved erstwhile-fat baby: ok just send it once more before you turn them into women
beloved erstwhile-fat baby: and i'll try a new username
politicaldesi: resent...

beloved erstwhile-fat baby: Bhagavan must have heard Anna seething . . .
beloved erstwhile-fat baby: cause it works now :-)
politicaldesi: damn FUCKING skippy
beloved erstwhile-fat baby: you know Anna's spoiled when even God gives her what she wants
politicaldesi: indeed. ;-)

.......................................................................

weight: 121 (only through the captain blackmailing my tummy with jack in the crack)
bodyfat: 19.1

kcal: :) read on...
vasa: 60

gym: closed! :(
write: sigh
dog: yes

the post below from the NYT was really disturbing. i'm truly lucky that i have someone like my favourite baby cousin to patiently stay up with me and distract me...as you can see from the AIM convo excerpted above, he's very adorable. the girl who ends up with him is blessed. and made out of steel since she goes through ME first.

i had the most indecently good french toast *ever* today...they made it with a vanilla cream batter and i asked them to put fresh strawberries and whipped cream on top...apparently it was supposed to come with some apple compote crap. see? it's good that i never order off the menu. :) as my favourite googler fed me scrambled eggs that had been marinating in tabasco red, i happily ate more calories in one meal than i usually scarf in a day. he said something interesting...after asking me if i liked the eggs (yes.) he said that he was surprised because it seemed remarkably meat-like...something about the flavour etc. very thought-provoking for him. :) i have said it before and i'll type it now...if it didn't gross me out consummately i'd be far more flexible. but meat does terrify me, especially seafood and pacifically, crustaceans. shudder.

yay! we got to repair the jeep window...oh but i love playing in the garage. i think i hear an air filter calling my name ;) am i the only weird girl who likes the smell of gasoline, wd40 AND gunk? no matter. any day when i get to use a screwdriver to undo something is a good day. and i'm not talking about the grey goose kind, you damned alcoholics.

ugh. so not sleepy but i really must go to bed. i have a feeling i'm going to miss church at this rate. sigh.
well, if i do, i promise to spend extra time with the dog. after i go to the gym. and act all disciplined.

how odd...businessweek is doing a feature on fixing insomnia, right now. how...apposite. "insomnia impairs the quality of life...your mood...your ability to enjoy yourself." wow. remind me not to make any important decisions in the next few weeks...

january 22

weight: 121.5
bodyfat: 21.5

kcal: :)
vasa: 50

gym: too tired
write: no
dog: no :(

it's 3:30 am. i need to be up in five hours. think i'm sleepy? barely. ohhh this blows. wonder if taking a shower will make me feel more bed-friendly. think i'll go turn on my 'lectric blankie, go upstairs, wash away my sins and give it a shot. that way i can weigh and body fat myself, too. efficient! that's me.

i'm cranky.

my tummy hurts soooo much. since nothing really stimulates my tastebuds right now, i'll go to town on anything that *does* seem appetizing. so. i ate part of a chocolate cream pie from whole foods in san mateo...something i've been craving ever since my birthday...and i think it was too rich for my exceedingly fragile tummy. remember being little and when your stomach hurt? i used to always go lie on my tummy, on the couch and it would miraculously get better. if only everything was as easy to fix as it was twenty-five years ago. dear lord i'm old...okay, back in 15...

it's actually 4:30 am...i know, i know NS uncle...no driving when anna is tired. i'm actually aware of the study that was published in USA Today a long time ago about how sleepy driving is as bad if not worse than driving drunk. hence my being excessively careful with benadryl, which was part of that study...still, i'm so looking forward to lunch with my bestest friend ever, eileen perfume. she'll be done with court in time to take me to lunch. how glamorous. i'm still amazed that she's the only one who followed through on our mutual plans to be scary lawyers. i'm just scary, w/o the impressive and expensive degree. something to be said for that i guess...

that reminds me, must mapquest...

i've decided that i must like functioning on little or no sleep. no other way to explain my aversion to something that i once thought of as one of my fondest hobbies. fine. i will go without sleep. i just wish it was the summer of 2002, when i was subsisting on a mere three hours + pure adrenaline...but i was also working my ass off all day with my interns and all night behind the bar to subsidize the pittance i got for working with my dear little political ducklings. i want that life back. at least let me be successful if i'm going to be so horrifically sleepless.

i'm actually in a much better mood than i have been in, in days. this has to do with three separate and very unique conversations with NS, SA and AG. each of whom is sweetly concerned about and helpful to me. NS was witty, SA was pretty and AG and i ended up discussing which of the eight options that currently perplex me i should choose...very useful conversation. i'm quite lucky that i know so many people who care this much about me. i can only imagine how terrible it would be to go through all this angst and confusion alone. sometimes, it's good to get things off your chest. and to get external perspective. and have people that you consummately look up to reveal that they are very human and feel the same way you do. i'm forever convincing myself that everyone is so much more capable than me. apparently not. ;)

i spent forever (as in five hours) on craigslist for two different cities, looking at jobs. there were actually a few interesting things to do in SF. at least i feel like i had a productive day, even though i didn't spoil the dog or go to the gym. now if i could only destroy and recreate my resume in the alternate format...we'd be lovely.

i know i won't always be so melancholy. as soon as i'm not here i'll be loads better. for now, i want to try and enjoy having this huge house to myself. i had been looking forward to this peace and quiet for weeks and now i kvetch about it? no. time to conquer inertia.

january 17

weight: 122
bodyfat: 21

kcal: :)
vasa: 32

gym: 32" interval training :D
write: yes
dog: no

i felt better today, much better. sleep will do that, i think. i was wayyy more disciplined about eating etc. and i went to the gym :) and THAT made me hungry and so i had scrambled egg whites (5!). i'm like a normal person today! i think i'm going to totally redo my resume...NS gave me some amazing feedback which i totally appreciate. watched SNL...i'll give jessica simpson props for mocking herself incessantly. oh wait, i'll give SNL's writers props. :)

feel bad...i didn't walk the dog...oh well, she got walked 3x this week. speaking of walk...my legs HURT.
i'm going to read tom robbins and go to bed. if i'm a good girl, i'll get up and go to church.

should've taken sleeper. this pinot noir is making my head hurt and i'm not sleepy. sigh.

tomorrow: should be verrrry good. full of marsupial fun. :)

january 16

weight: 123
bodyfat: 21

kcal: :(
vasa: 48

gym: no
write: yes
dog: gary

still not sleeping...slept from 6:30-10:30...got up...edited last night's post...watched some tv...felt awful...passed out around 1:30 on couch. woke up at 3:15pm via nightmares that involved snakes burrowing in to my down comforter, they were slithering all over my room ugly, dry, brown rattlesnakes with no rattles. i was beyond scared. i think i screamed "no" as i woke up and rani didn't bother checking on me. fabulous. thank goodness AG called and calmed me down. phenomenally sweet phone call. :)
must spend an hour on the phone with a good friend more often. he was so ardently supportive about my project...and that was necessary at this melancholy junction. spent hours online with NS and HC about jobs and brainstorming. took sleeper at 11:45. feeling nothing. wtf? took whole thing too. whatever. am going to go TRY to sleep.