woke up at some goddamed hour when it was still raining. vegged for two hrs trying to figure out something so insignificant that i can't bother to retrieve it from my memory now.
my neck hurts. i have an aching back. we've run out of coffee. i have committed myself to 3 holi lunches. alcohol consumption in last two weeks- nil, niccotine consumption - increasing in an upward graph that has an 85-degree incline. my teeth are going to fall out soon if i don't go for my dentist's appointment. i have to calculate my income tax AND pay it too. it's so hot that are my allergies are in three-quarter bloom ( it'll take an april to get to full bloom). my bloody wrist has a cramp. i have a grand total of fifty three rupees left. somebody's pre-empted my bid to steal that copy of tom holt. i can't take a single fucking day off till forever. the toad's gone raving mad and is blissfully unaware of it.
i don't have money, i don't have peace of mind, i don't live near a sea, i don't have flat abs or sculpted upper-arms, i don't have a single white t-shirt, i don't have a life-altering problem and while we're at it, i still don't have my own copy of the life of brian and i don't have the faintest desire to go in to work today.
though i have a very rare personality, i feel like shit. no, seriously.
and someone tell me, why the fuck should a label for this post be either scooter or vacation? dickheads.

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.

A sentimental blues
Will wet your eye
You wonder why
You heave a sigh
You start to cry
Each time that you
Hear these blues

i cried for an hour. then i realised the futility of choosing to feel sad instead of angry. then i cried some more.
its raining outside. round drops of rain suddenly find themselves squashed flat against the pane. they make a soft pop. grey days and wet winter nights make me feel very lost.

i got a miles davis cd and an italian movie. and the normal quota of existential blues and random flak and tummy cramps.
and i finally confessed that i'd always liked madonna, oh the relief of getting that off my chest and then laughed hysterically when chipmunk told us he likes kenny rogers. hee hee har har. BUT what i haven't told anyone is that i kind of liked paris hilton's thing too.
i hate the thought of tomorrow and day after , but of course not sunday, and most definitely monday. once that is over, i'll have a whole new week to hate. but there's always zoning out.
in the meanwhile, as an oasis of constancy in my life, my irritation with the weather continues. my next home will be somewhere that has a decent winter, maybe a couple of weeks of snow (only if there is central heating) and a coffeeshop at the end of the block and a pub with reliable grub for sunday mornings. proximity to sea is optional. if i can afford the home, then i'd bloody well be able to afford a beach holiday now and then. i hate seeing people dress up in 13 layers of mismatched clothing in this pathetic excuse for a winter, hah, winter, that the weather gods or the scary schizoids at alipore weather office has thrown in calcutta's way.
there was actually a man who wore a cable-knot sweater AND a fleece-lined parka walking by the office. he stared at my cigarette, i stared at his outfit. eyeball for fucking eyeball man before the heat makes the fluid evaporate and the shrivelled eye falls off the socket i thought. but then the paper truck came and spoilt my view.

2006 - emotional rollercoaster. utterly exhausting, yet extremely enriching.
2007 - have a feeling is going to be even more eventful. omegawd!
only baggage carried over from last year - a sense of well-being which is also intimately connected to people who i'm learning each day are hard to lose.
and this new year's eve - no i didn't get my 16 hrs uninterrupted sleep despite manic manipulations, but it was a night memorable for its intensity if not anything else.

on the wishlist - more time, more travel, more music, longer winter, more letting in, more getting in, less of aishwaya rai, vast quantities of sketchpens and sequinned slippers, more nicotine (yeah i wanna smoke, i won't quit, i won't even pretend to want to quit, so there, what can you do?)

how can two little bits of roshomalai makes me throw up 6 times? there should a sense of proportion in things. and the next person who nudges a notun gurer shondesh my way will get a serving spoon jammed down their throat.
no presents today, smoking medium high, bullied people, million people to visit tomorrow and a million and one things waiting on monday. if i can't discard my life and get another one, then the least the world owes me is a spare clone kind of person to live parts of it for me.
i'd send the stupid clone to work and visit people and run errands and i'd stay at home, lazing in the sun on my favourite arm-chair and listen to old-fashioned acid rock. i'd read a fashion-magazine and eat grapes too, just to complete things, but i don't like the latter and the former would be too much like work.

this is unfrikkinbelievable. i sat up and made my calculations. i had an unbroken 22 day stint of getting presents every single day !!! and everything so far has been stuff i absolutely like, which is not a very usual occurrence when random people give you things. not that i'd ever concede that a normal existence is not traumatic, but this part of my life ... i'm lovvin' it.
today's booty: orange-pink cotton top, one asterix, rod stewart cd.

who do you give yourself to?
not in the virgin sacrifice kind of way, but really who do you give yourself to?
do you give yourself to you, keeping the rest of world at bay, keeping you safe and maybe lonely, a bit cold?
do you give yourself to a few, letting go in spurts, feeling warm in sporradic bursts of animosity?
do you give yourself to everything on the canvas - the causes you support, the vices you nurture, the friends you miss, the lovers you don't understand, the person at the other end of the wires, the person who's cut off all the wires, the dead and the living, the sunny mornings and warm water on your feet that try to balance on shifting sands, intense feelings, intense absence of feelings - and watch your anger when you can't pick up the strands of your life because the yarn has been woven into a tapestry you don't know how to unravel?
do you fight against detachment or do you fight for it?

i want a largish cardboard box or one half of a sewerage pipe where i can put up a blue plastic sheet and stay undisturbed and out of the world's way.

- god
-yeah?
- perform a miracle.
- fuck off.
- no, seriously.
- yeah, seriously, fuck off .
- like hell. you fuck off.
- oh ok. cool. seeya.

even prayer has lost its power these days.

colour code for the day: navy blue and blood red.
what the fuck is wrong with me?

bright, nice, sunny day; clear skies; black and green butterflies; feeling like a jellybean (waking up at six thirtyseven tsk); the easy-chair by the window nicely toasted by the morning sun.
i need to find a good reason why i have to go work today.
i also need to find a shirt, a pair of red socks, thirty bucks, my keys and somebody who'll give me something to eat.

meebo isn't working, the ym never did work on this piece of junk. whenever i type my id in, it is showing up as already logged in or invalid password. i can't even open my mail. it shows the same bloody thing.
and i have to go back to work tomorrow and i exhausted my week's quota of tantrums in one evening.
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarghhhhhhhhhhhh. pox on your polly, fate.

coffee, music, lunch, nap, tantrum, pizza, beer, music, sleepover and a repeat of the sequence today. taking two days off is so blissful. taking two days off when everyone else is on leave too - heavenly.
i heart mew.

i missed my chance today.
at the park street signals one of the urchins came and demanded two rupees. he assured me that by giving the money i would ensure that i'd get married or at least make lots of money in near future. but despite having control of my destiny, i could do nothing about it since the lights changed and the moron of a taxiwallah sped to overtake a scorpio.
when i'm old, single and penniless, i'll remember to put a curse on the driver of taxi number 8235 and the cop that was manning the signals on park street at 7:45 on 11th november, 2006.
just you wait.