Sullen Sunday

It's one of those absolutely shitty days. And the rain is not helping at all.I guess the fact that I'm playing the acoustic version of Bed of Roses just goes to prove that i intentionally want to wallow in this shitty day.

I can feel that new beginning hovering near, yet I'm not excited. Not anticipating.
Instead, I've been dwelling on the past quite a bit lately. On how easy life was, the yesteryears in school and uni. I miss the security of knowing that however badly I screwed up, there'd always be someone next to me. They didn't have to care- knowing that I did about them is sufficient. It's almost like caring for this person gives you something to be busy with while your subconscious grapples with the part of your life that you have zero control of.

The worst feeling anyone could have is resigning to the truth that no matter how hard they try, they'd always be in the most, second best- coz everyone seems to be blind to the other's faults and to your good. Nevermind if I'm not making sense.

Some people are blessed, knowing that throughout all the crap life hands them, they have friends who give a shit. Who care a damn. And it's funny that I should not feel that way, because people tell me that I have too many good friends-way more than a person my age should (whatever the hell that means).

If the doctor told me that I have another month on this good earth, I seriously cant think of anyone I'd call and cry my fears to. It's scary coz it now leaves me thinking, what the hell am I doing wasting time with these people? Then again, maybe I've unintentionally built that wall by wanting to constantly project superficially that everything is A-OK- coz Anucia is always in control. There's nothing she cant handle, there's nothing that can rock her boat. She's Thelma, and if Thelma has all the answers, she cant possibly be rotting inside now, can she? All these ridiculously founded qualms must have somewhat led to this detachment.

He called today, after another round of his version of Copperfield's disappearing acts. This time he was to be at the airport, asking if I wanted to meet up. It's sometimes quite hard to accept that this is the person I fell hard for. The person who calls when he needs/wants something. The person that remembers you when he wants to.But I've since spoken to that silly Anucia, and told her sternly that stupidity, like everything else, has it's limits. She's a lot better now, much better than the gullible thing she used to be- she finished my sentences for me, and I didn't have to tell her what to do.

She's almost there.
That's one good thing achieved this week.

Aaarrggghhh. I wish I understood ME!

090206

Finally, the long awaited Internet connection has been installed at home and I have re-establisehd my identity as a LimeWire addict!

I'd almost forgotten that magical world of free (key word) downloads of almost anything and everything through the wonders of Streamyx.
The past days have seen me euphorically downloading songs of Jack Johnson, Kenny Chesney, Brad Paisley, along with lotsa music from the days of yore. Not forgetting my roots, Usilampatti,Mukalaa, Aathangaramaramae are also stored in the library.

Btw Cam, I'll get the dapangkotte tracks and burn it into a cD for you so that you can practice your moves for our next party. Did I just spill on you?:)Purely intentional.

Anyway, now I can reply to the gazillion Friendster messages and emails that have been archived since I started work-and I guess this means the usual, "I don't have internet connection at my grandma's place" when accused for not keeping in touch can't be applied.

I bought the Malaysian Nanban last Sunday to practice my Tamil-it's been a while since I opened that LAT100 textbook.Doesn't matter that I don't bloody understand the article(only that some Mahalakshmi did something bad), I've finished one article of the paper.Looks like the dog-eared daily is gonna keep me busy till the end of the year.

Why is everyone asking me who/what my plans are for Valentine's when they know that I'm single?Not like I'd do anything if I had someone, anyway.It's a stupid thing to celebrate, and I won't go into the "why would you need ONE specific day to show your partner how much you love them?" sermon. We've heard that argument too often.I don't even fancy celebrating birthdays-mine, I mean. Think about it, kinda corny in a way, don't you think?

There was a year when a bunch of us got together at Hareen's place on V-day. She whipped up a feast (anything else than sandwiches and nuggets were considered a spread back when we were at school) for just us girls. I remember us watching a movie (on videotape :)) while digging into the self developed recipe of our dessert.Crushed Oreo+Ice cream+fruit cocktail. It still makes my mouth water.

Well, this year( after more than 6 years) is gonna somewhat such, but since we're older and wiser now, it's only right for alcohol to come into the picture,eh?

Anyway,I witnessed the silliest thing on the way back from work today.
Traffic was,at usual at a crawl and even more so as it had just stop ped pouring. However, there was a slight drizzle and walking along the main road was this young college-going couple.
The guy was sheilding,if you may, his girlfriend from the sparse droplets with his two hands over her head. Can you then imagine how he positioned himself to walk alongside her?Facing her.How starkingly dumb.

Then he brought his tshirt up to his armpits so that she could walk covered and it was comfortable for about half a second.
What a bloody dunce.

Could she like have died if she got herself wet a little?
Oh, but of course, it must be the rebonded tresses! The hair that cannot be washed or tied.What was I thinking!
I would love to see him do that 10 years into their marriage.

See, this is the kinda crap you come up with when you blog for the sake of blogging.

On My Own

I've done a thorough examination of my body; every limb, every lump and every fold- yet I cant seem to find that much talked about expiry date stamped anywhere.

So what is this everyone's rambling about?

I remember being quite content being man-less, very content actually when my last relationship ended some 2 years ago-not that the absence of the boyfriend was the main reason of my silent rejoices. It was more of the dynamics of the relationship and the differing individual needs that caused the rift because honestly, we were both good people- he that and a lot more.

However, hearing the "You'd better get yourself a man before it's too late" line more than 4 times the past month has somewhat sent me into a worry flurry. And it doesn't help that too many (same aged) people that I know are officially getting together. A good friend of mine is getting engaged next week, another at the end of the year.

Uma,26 (not her real name) is getting married this month-yeah, she's 26, and 26 IS the average acceptable age for marriage these days. The thing that gets to me is Uma is not mentally 26, Uma has a 'reputation' worth mentioning and Uma is a brat with a serious attitude problem. She will always stay in my mind as the girl who scants on her clothes just to get a second glance from even the coolies.How she will ever run a home and raise little terrors is something worth putting my life on hold to watch.

Well, back to the previous paragraph, I'm naturally thrilled for these friends of mine-not just because I've got reasons to get all pretty. I know that their choices have been thoroughly scrutinised (reckon there's a better word, but I'm just too bloody lazy).
We've seen too many broken engagements (the irony that these always happens to couples that celebrate them lavishly truly baffles me) and I dont want my personal circle of acquaintances to be part of the nasty statistics.

Anyway, I've always prided myself in being independant and firm footed, albeit a lil bit of an emotional drama queen at times-come on, we all have that side to us,the only variable is its degree of severity- hence, I'm convinced that though I may not top the list of Women Most Desirable, my name is there. Somewhere.Therefore, the possibility of being a single,bitter and shrivelled 65 year old hag is something I refuse to believe in.

Then why is it I don't have eligible men pounding down my doors?

Coz you're fussy.
Coz you're not approachable.
Coz you're confused.
Coz you're intimidating.
Coz you're too judgemental.
Coz you're looking for perfection.

That's what my friends will tell you, but I (the one person who knows me best) would beg to differ.

Yes, I have my specifications, who doesn't? However, that does not mean that I'm fussy or judgemental. It just simply means that I have a pretty defined idea of what I want.And I'm not looking for perfection-just near perfection :)

He may be a club singer and he can have 6 fingers, I really dont care, but there must exist an unexplainable mangga-dan-kunci-like chemistry.And for the record, I am NOT intimadating, I just have a very unapproachable face. I can't change what The Mighty One intended, so deal with it.

And being angry and sad at the same time over the same issue does not equate to confusion.

I can't stand people who greet with Hai, instead of a Hi or a Hey-if you wanna call that being judgemental, I can't stop you now, can I?

Won't Jeevan have something to say now.

There's a certain thrill of making a uninterested person fall madly for you. And thats how I turn the ernest suitors away-never intentionally though.Sure, they're sweet and kind everything nice, but it's B-O-R-I-N-G.Yes, I'm mad.

I hate to occasionally hear my mom read out the personals and the aunts/girly friends lament at the fact that I don't have a foreign arm around my waist. I get annoyed at the queries of marriage.I mean, who the hell am I gonna marry if I dont have a boyfriend? Plainly, its a stupid question to ask.I will not believe that I cannot find my own man.Damn. What kinda ego bruise would that be?

Yes, the brokers may have noble intentions, and there are days where I wish I had someone to share good times with. The endless nagging from the inhabitants of my little world doesn't make the loneliness easier-BUT I will not succumb to it.
I will find that near perfect person.
On my own.
At fourty, perhaps :)

Till then, I'll remain optimistic.