First Impressions

Women dont like me. Most of them that is.
I of course knew this fact since a while back, but it dint matter so much then. for one, i thought maybe i was just over analysing it and so on or that it was isolated incidents.
but.
women dont like me. period.
i am talking strictly first impressions here. they are not friendly, they are simply polite and most of them make it obvious, and i dont make any efforts to get them to like me too.
so we are quite even.
there are some times rarely when i do like someone and i make a lot of effort and it pays off.all my closest friends are girls from college days and we have stuck together for a long time and they will vouch for the fact that i make more than just a decent friend.
i take trouble when it matters but its all very rare.
in any case
i recently found out that the women i work with dont like me.
the couple of girls who have been here before i landed still stick togethere like glue. which is ok.
but there are these women. older.women. supposedly proffessional.
one of them just stares and stares at me.
she gets up from the place where her ass is to be parked as soon as i come in, move to the corner where her other proffesional friend sits, and just stares and each time i catch her eye she doesnt reallly look away.
now, tired i stare at her right back upon which she gives me this bland wide icky smile.
every time a guy comes and talks to me, there she is at it again.
speaking of which, the men.
with whom i get along simply well.zimbly. they are normal, they dont stare! they look obviously but thats what they do. right?
i am sure there is a reason for this, one of which i have discovered.
i tend to find male humor and jokes never offending.and the couple of times they ventured out with some all i did was laugh instead of cringe in unison with my species!
i swear a lot. not quite the sailor sorts but comfortably enough.
this must be it?
i am probably not proclaiming my unity to my side in big boring gossip and joining the shop till you drop, who is having what sale talks!
not that i dislike gossip, am all for it, but its so hard here esp when i find them so predictably similair in discussion and conversation and every damn thing!

pS: First impressions of earth is a song by The Strokes
They have also performed with Regina spektor ( who i louw) btw,and recorded this awesome song: Modern girls and Old fashioned men.

The Stranger Song

I have always thought i knew me well. i was comfortable with the person they told me i was. Growing up i was always the abouve average kid. The one whose parents were always told " she can make it big if only she would try", another one was " has potential". i got so familiar with this and then my report cards that said " should try little harder" and words said over and again of lack of initiative.
now, i hadnt believed any of that but you know how it is.
you hear the same thing over and over you tend to go with that thought. so i became the one who could, but dint.
i dint scrape through. i made an effort when i felt so.and that was very rare.
when school was about to end and the finals were coming up they have this irritating habit of testing you just before it! i have never really understood that. it only sends kids into panic modes anyway.
i dint pay much attention to this last minute itch and with just one month left for exams i flunked my way through most of it.
and except for that vague nagging doubt that it wouldnt be taken well at home, it dint matter. there was a month more!
the teacher lady insisted on calling the mother and filling her ears with some garbage who in turn banged some plates around and gave me the silent treatment and it was as much annoyance than anything with which i finally sat down and opened the books.
i scored some 80 plus something with A1, remember A1?yeah well. A1 in all except one subject.
one measly A2 made its weary way into the report which was expectedly given the cold shoulder by the mother.
in any case
my point was i have never been one to show any kind of drive or enthusiasm.
the only times i have shown welcome initiative was to buy books and give away any advice if asked.
and thus college went on.
post grad went on.
all decisions that were taken for me.
my mild protest sometimes would welcome disapproval and thus i continue being the just above average kid.
Sometimes it pisses me off that i wasted two whole years doing an Mba that did nothing for me.except perhaps bring about a lil more much needed self confidence but otherwise a very wasted 2 years. in all sense.
wasted i repeat so that you get the emphasis.

and now.
i have this job. something that i love doing, look forward to each day. dont mind the hourse, dont mind any extra work handed over. dont mind learning page making tools, despite being not so tech savvy.
despite not having my name come up in by lines.
despite editing out crap people write, make it look better and in the end be as unknown as ever.
i dont care.
the efforts i make surprise me so much every day.
and then i realise what a stranger i have been to myself.
i can recongnise me and that just makes me so happy, that i have me.
this might not make sense. but thats ok.
its so relieveing to like the person you are. to be in that stage where only your opinion about you matters.
i dont need approval, not even the tiniest bit. and this kind of security has never been there.its such an entirely new and extremely welcome feeling.that it helps to wake up every day and feel steady.
so there. thats all that needs to be said.
here is to me.

ps: from now the titles are going to be songs.

Happy Anniversary to me

So the boi is really bad with dates. he forgets a lot of birthdays, other peoples ie, he forgets my dads surprise thing but he did remember the anniversary and as part of the big anniv mail he signs of like this:

"Anyway, happy anniversary (once again). I'll take a rain check on making it special for you, if that's ok.
I love you

yours A"

And.

i found that amusing. the rain check part.

no wonder we are together.

Cheap Thrills

So the following is the reason why i should consider sleeping early and not surf the net half awake and groggy.
so in the above mentioned state am reading random blogs, when i see on some one's space the following line
" wonder about kumar sanu's disappearance, doesnt matter, he sucked anyway"
something to this effect.
now in my sleep induced state i think.
where could kumar sanu go.
who took him away
are they holding him captive for money
what on earth were his songs
why i cant remember anything?

and keeping up with this i go on to google and decided to uncover the details behind his disappearance.
nothing comes up.
no headlines made anywhere. the maximum google gives me is some movie plot where someone was kidnapped in which our man had sung some song.
it still doesnt occur to me.
and then: blink.
i want to just curl up and go to sleep but i just had to put it down somewhere so that i dont forget how much lack of sleep can affect the human brain.

Checking Ones head

Sometimes you meet someone who you get along fabulously with.
you think you can identify why they say, what they say
somethings, annoy you, but you are willing to overlook those, cos you think,hey this doesnt happen all the time with me.
when they behave a lil funny, you go along thinking its ok! cos in your head, you have been there too.
they want you to explain and when you do, they want you to keep quiet and when you dont, you are accused of being cold.
when you try blunt there is a cold shoulder
and when you make an effort its still the same.

so what does all this tell you?
stop being daft and go back to your old, indifferent ways.
the world doesnt particularly want to see your humanitarian side.

Repeat. Rewind

Alone is;
coming back home at 12
eating a cold dinner, slowly chewing thinking of all the times the mother wanted to feed you food, hot. the concept which was then lost to you
watching movies half way through wondering what exactly is going on
still sleepless at three. reading pages after pages and then realising you dint get any of that
go back and try reading again
download music sheets and try playing the guitar soon to give up.futile.
play scrabble with yourself.
wish the boi was online
finally fall asleep after having done a quick recap of all sick things that has happened.
the re cap rushes you into sleep as the poor heart says to the brain: drop it. let her off.
wake up. around noon.
gym.
shower
go to work. preferably early. at least you can see people.
come back at 12.
repeat.
repeat
repeat

That thing with ulysses

why is ulysses so hard to pull through

why do i reach about twenty pages and then just zone out

why is James Joyce making it hard for everyone

is there anyone who has read the whole book

why cant i just think: big deal. its just one book. move on, woman.

why am i asking people who mention they read, if they have finished this one?

why do i feel secret happiness when they say : no..uhm.cough. no.cough.that one? no.

i havent met anyone who said yes.

if there is anyone? are you all in hiding? was it that bad?

why does this book come up on every must read list

who is making these lists

has this list making moron read this one?

ulysses is currently on my night stand looking up with mournful eyes but still being stubbornly un reachable.

is it me? Mr Joyce? or is it everyone?

or hey wait? its probably you.

why does this begin to sound like a failed relationship

oh. maybe. that is what this is.

i see.

Comfort Zones

I must be one of those few people who say the following.

i like my job.
i like my boss
i like my dentist.

but its all true. i do. despite the crazy four to twelve shift i still like it. though most of my time has been so far spent doing nothing that deserves mention, there are no complaints.
The highlight though is that am considering doing my first story.solo.
the downside is that there are no ideas, whatsoever.
for some odd reason, health care articles are in the running. cancer, to be more specific.
on the other hand, i got to hear about this news, about illegal abortions and about women forced in to prostitution.
but i think everyone is turning the other way and that is the norm. what is expected.
what does a lowly do here. nothing. she will keep in mind what she has been told.

2nd we have the boss. The night editor who gave me "Difficult loves" by Calvino and who covers his books with paper.
who has over 2000 books in two lovely, large mahogany shelves.
who peers in every now and then to "enquire" about my welfare; his words, said sarcasticaly.
who said matter-of-factedly that this job isnt so hard.
"people speak like they crap, you take the shit you want ,throw the remaining shit out"
leaving me to wonder about the comparison.

3rd is the dentist.
we louw the dentist. me and my shiny teeth.
we louw it that he distracts us with funny stories and at the end gives us mango bite for our patience and tolerance.
some times two depending,on how less we cringed each time he asked us to spit.

so there. we have that all covered.

The Fish tank

The red fishie is female.

and despite being the only girl in a tank full of nine other healthy,happy males, she still gets no attention.

Being alone in there if thats what works for her? where is hope? for the rest of us.

Those Few Seconds

There are many things about my mother that annoy me terribly. well, that is how its mean to be right. A universal thing perhaps? in all mother-daughter situations?
But there is this one thing that not just annoys me but transforms me into a raging, red faced lunatic.
she, is quite the miser. not when it comes to us. But for her self.
she will take the bus, argue with auto drivers till they push off muttering obscenties under their breath, she will wonder why this shop has onions priced this much and the rest lower.
she wont buy fish if she feels the fish guy is taking her for a ride, she in fact fought with the fish guy of all people. But none of this in a nasty way.
Its more of a patient, i-have-to-somehow-keep-at this way, which makes me a little sad.
Its not like we are short of money or that she has to take the bus. she can very well afford to keep a car and then a driver.
but something about it doesnt ring true for her. it is more like, i am used to this kind of life and i will not stop it now just cos we live better off.
and thus,
she drags me with her to the local store and while we are just stepping out of home i ask her if she has carried enough cash, she says yeah sure, giving me the what-has-got-into-you, all too familiar look.
my suspicious questions are laughed off with silly jokes she cracks.
i go along.
and finally when we are at the counter she is sweating it out. to my question of " what amma, what is wrong" is met with " you see.. i have just X rs. do you think that is enough?"
I know its enough but this needs to stop. she seems to be at the verge of fainting and i know this is purposeful. i just dont understand why she needs to go through this time and again. Time and again.
so i tell her, probably not.
she almost stammers and says " maybe we should give back the beef"
i look at her calmly and say " the beef. is cut up and ready to go.what do you want me to tell him"
for those few seconds my mother is on high and not in a good way.
"why dint u carry some extra cash like i told you to?"
" i thought this was enough?"'
" well. we will see"
" but do you think..do you think its enough?"
Her frantic looks make me worried and i tell her its allright. she needs some convincing. we
just about make it with 50 bucks given back.
she gives me a goofy grin. I am not amused.
To my question of why.. she only stares back, happy that the ordeal is over. I know she will in all likelihood do it again.
i just dont understand why.