no i am not a deranged person as i had point out fairly emphatically twice today, i'm just a very rare personality. FYI, this has been corroborated by blogthings

Your Personality is Very Rare (INFP)

Your personality type is dreamy, romantic, elegant, and expressive. Only about 5% of all people have your personality, including 6% of all women and 4% of all men You are Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling, and Perceiving.

How Rare Is Your Personality?

will somebody get me an irish flag? its two parts creme de menthe, two parts bailey’s and one part brandy. pretty simple.
but life has a way of denying simple wants.
now if i had wanted a happy ending to a love pentagon with an odd homosexual thrown in or the miraculous overhaul of the kenyan infrastructure or a film where tushar kapoor finally learns to act or a consensus on the kiyoto protocol or maybe an applicatory study on world bank data using a probit analysis model - that would have been a different story.
but my yahoo horoscope did tell me to follow my mood. an irish flag would have been sooooo convenient rather than going out to find a victim whose limbs i can hack off with a blunt saw, whose ribcage i can break with a hockey stick, whose head i can mash up like stoneman, who i can then put on an anthill and then later maybe douse with petrol and set to fire. and while i am doing all this, the victim can listen to himesh or crazy kiya re on walkman. i'd expect it to bring it's own of course. i can't seriously be expected to provide all the entertainment, i am sure.

a day is just another thing to get through - some cheesy line from a 90's movie keeps playing in a loop in my head. 3 things about my day stand out -
suddenly remembering perks of being a wallflower, snooping around facebook and finally watching borat.
the rest of it was stuff that might have saved itself the bother of happening at all. i wonder if real people ask each other how their day went. must try it on somebody deserving.

my spam mails and i have had a very fulfilling relationship. low-maintenance and relaxed, not inducing wild passion maybe, but tuned highly to my needs.
like when i hit rock bottom, spam always gave me mails from the nigerian lawyer who wanted me to inherit a million dollars. when my grades were slipping, spam gave me mails from online institutions that promised to make a competent psychiatrist out of me. there were also extremely supportive mails to assure me that my penile dimensions could be magnified (though how spam knew it needed magnifying is a wonder still, i am not THAT sort of a girl). it was a peaceful co-existence. of late, it has been entirely concerned with the libidinous aspects of me. but i treated that as a part of being in this close a relationship.
but today, the subject line in my spam has started reading liposuction instead of libido. i think the best by date has gone by for this relationship.
sigh.

allergic reactions, anti-allergy pills that make me hyperactive instead of sleepy, co-workers (of both genders) with fascinating degrees of obsession with facial hair styling, incessant drizzle, a million bucks in overdue library fines, a ban from local dvd rental people, valentine's day crap sprouting out of everywhere including a sanitary-ware shop and i'm not fucking kidding,switching over to milds from silk cuts and being proven wrong there, autos and fm radios, reading dalrymple and not being able to take a week off to go on a walking tour of delhi, flashing(unknowingly) my blue underwear to diners at kfc on sunday, three grey hairs, residual memories, stolen lighter and three glitter pens, lost copy of the memories of my melancholy whore, toad, toad again, toad one time more - and a few more things make for my current grouse.
not necessarily in this order though. the magnitude of the contribution of each of these factors fluctuate.
one day if i can manage to wake up very early, i'll walk out and keep walking till i get to the sea. but if i get hungry, i'll come back home and eat a pb&j sandwich. then i'll start out on my getting lost for life mission once more.

i think i did something very horrible to the comments settings of this blog. but i think i've set it right now. i wish though communication was still a simple thing like when you'd get out of the house after spending 15 minutes trying to get the latch to open, go and yell for someone below their window, put your point across and head back with a sense of job well done.
anyhoo, what is not be is not to be.
meanwhile, i live my life or just experience fragments of it that jut out like shards of pottery from amidst stretches of muddy chaos.