Tuesday, January 22

Anything to Keep me from Studying

So, it's been a while.


I'm not going to be claim to be an expert (I totally had a simpleringly smug look on my face when I said that, cos, c'mon, *course* I'm an expert) but does it seem like we're having an amazing blog-graph here? Like, BM (even if she now insists on calling herself OTP! Like whatever!) went into a slump and then came up swinging. The Riddler (??!) was going great guns and churning out like 250 posts a day and then went into a "Oh, I'm saving myself for the long run by cutting down on it" downswing. So, they kinda neutralized each other. Yes? Sine and anti-sine waves. Or whatever (I'm not majoring in like Graphs or Accounting or whatever those people who learn how to graph major in).


We've had a slough of grey days. I love grey days. It's the greyness of them. Seeping into everything around. Until slowly it seeps into your soul. And you die (or your soul does or something). Pretty neat, huh?


Yeah, I saw Sweeney Todd. I don't have the words to do it justice but I'm gonna use substitute words to try and capture the utter horror. Ghastly music, ghastly singing, marginally funny lyrics. Asinine plot line. Even Depp couldn't do a Pirates on this one. Sigh.


Talking about movies, though, I'm in love with Ellen Page. The girl rocks. I want to have her babies. Juno was drippingly delicious. I've already seen it twice (Ren, if you have the soundtrack, I want! I'll come down and get it off of you if you won't give it to me!).


Everyone's getting married. Or having babies. What is up with that? A guy I used to know is really and actually getting married (wedding in India and all). Ex-roomie just got married (also wedding in India - actually two weddings - the works). A guy I still know is ohsoclose to tying the knot. Juno got pregnant. Another guy I know scored a lunch date. Odds are he's going to either get married pretty soon or get pregnant.


School still sucks. They still keep handing out those awful test questions. I still get continually traumatized when I know an answer. It's like "Waitasecond! This question actually makes sense. I think I can answer it! No, really! I think I know the answer. OMG! I must be hallucinating. I've finally succumbed to the pressure and gone nutso" [Cue manic laughter in a silent hall followed by much glaring and angry sssshhhhhs].


Customary video and I believe we're done here.

Tuesday, January 8

Bad Flaffy, No Donut for You

She was sure he'd come back. That's why when her friends came over looking sad and held her hand, she just smiled. When they told her to cheer up and come shopping with them, she went shopping with them. She didn't need to cheer up. She knew he'd come back. He'd always liked how clean her house was. How she always made sure the pillow covers matched the duvet. The way her clothes were sorted out by use (daily wear, exercise, office, parties, Indian get-togethers, casual evenings), color (reds, greens and blues - she didn't like oranges and yellows, too bright) and length (shorts, skirts, pants and pjs, ankle skirts, saris). Every day she made up their bed (on both sides), vacuumed her house and made sure there were fresh flowers in the living room vase. Because she knew he'd come back. And imagine if the flowers were faded when he did.