Thursday, August 31, 2006

Blog Day 2006

Pour out your thoughts. Inspire someone. Make someone laugh. Touch someone (not inappropriately please) with your words. And while away your productive hours.

It’s Blog Day 2006.

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Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Over-sleepers Anonymous

Hello. My name is sunshine and I am an over-sleeper.

Yes, I see the irony. But, it was my mom who named me. She is one of those early birds who wakes up at times that are technically the middle of the night. Little did she know that the apple would fall from the tree and land on a whole other lazy planet.

It started with a couple of hits of the snooze button. Just one or 2 a day, I swear! But then the habit accrued. I needed to hit the snooze at least a dozen times before I could start my day. And how this has affected my life!

I have been shaken - but I have not stirred. I have also been pinched, tickled and jumped on by toddlers - all in vain. I have been labeled a 'lazy-bum', a 'sloth' and even a 'lethargophillic' with complete disregard for my feelings. When it's hot, the fan has been pitilessly switched off and I have been left to suffer in sweat. When it's cold, my blanket has been brutally snatched away. I whined and cuddled back into bed. The maid yelled at me and hit me with the broom - only to elicit my appeals for just 5 more minutes of sleep.

When resorting to provocation, blackmail and terrorism and making a victim out of my innocent little snuggly bears also proved fruitless - my parents resigned (My mom, unable to digest these antithetic characteristics, speculated baby-swapping at the hospital). Every morning, my commute to school was an unsuccessful race against the clock.

Living with room-mates - once again brave souls attempted to awaken me from my slumber, only to be frustrated, baffled, overwhelmed and disheartened. One got so worried, she checked to see if I was still breathing!

My over-sleeping habits turned chronic. I had traded in my alarm clock for louder and more obnoxious sounding ones. And every time I hit the snooze button. When I finally did make it to class, my day-dreams featured visions of my bed and my pillow!

I made excuses of exhaustion. Tiresome, ain't it? I made New Year resolutions. But, I partied so hard on the 31st - I slept through New Year Day!

Lately, I have found that I hesitate when it comes to hitting the snooze. This could either mean that I'm improving or that my laziness has hit the stratosphere!

So, here I am. My name is sunshine and I am an over-sleeper!

_

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

On Conversation...

On Conversation by William Shakespeare...

Conversation should be pleasant without scurrility, witty without affectation, free without indecency, learned without conceitedness, novel without falsehood.

Considering this quote... the only thing that I can think of talking about is the weather report that warned of thunderstorms and a flood watch. Any skepticism about this report was washed away when I saw ducks on the street!

Even so, the sky cleared up and the sun shone. And I guess we should be glad that the weather changes like it does. Otherwise, 4 of 5 people wouldn't even be able to start a conversation!

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Monday, August 28, 2006

Amused to the hilt!

I took a trip to the town built on chocolate. Milton S. Hershey opened the chocolate factory and with it a "model town" with all the trimmings. Hershey Park being one of them, opened in 1907. A treat all the way... it even smells of chocolate!! The place features a chocolate factory, a zoo, museums, gardens, and a whole lotta shopping. Sweet - ain't it?

Being the adrenaline junkie that I am - I made a bee-line for the most agressively rated thrill rides. Bring on the 'many unexpected, rapid changes in speed, direction, and/or elevation'.

The Great Bear - exhilaration machinified!



Riding below the track (instead of on it) and moving at a mile a minute, it lifted me 90 feet into the air, tossed me, flipped me, yanked me, and dropped me 124 feet - only to lift me up and do it all over.

All this on the first row with my feet flailing up in the air and leaving me begging for more!














Of all the rides I've been on, the Storm Runner takes the cake (along with the stomach)!


Before I could say "here we go" it has launched me from 0-72mph in 2 seconds flat - and that was just the beginning! It's a freak-show of a ride that romps down an action packed 2600 feet of steel track in 30 seconds. I rode in the first row of the second car and my stomach followed in the 2nd row of the 9th car.

I would've described how I imagined the coaster attempted to shoot me off to Pluto. But, after all the demoralization that the poor dwarf planet has gone through... I decided to leave it to it's unusually elliptical orbit and out of my description.


The coaster continued to storm up 18 stories and then drop down even faster. Before I could comprehend what I was looking at, the vision had already flashed past. After all the loops, rolls and dives... forget east or west... I had no idea which direction was up!

Among other activities like arcading, sightseeing, shopping and pressing pennies - I stood in serpentine lines (for rides, food, souveniers). It's lines like these that demand engaging company. And thanks to the fascinating company I had, conversations floated between making jokes (mostly at others' expense), discussing the perils of the rides and designing strategies to jump from one ride to another in mid-air... and I didn't realize when time flew by faster than the rides!


And I can't wait to do it all again!
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Friday, August 25, 2006

Orkomeos

Orkomeo - (Orkut+ Romeo) A category of the male Homo sapien who dwells in a virtual world of social networking. Usually on the hunt for ever-lasting virtual love, but is willing to stop by every suitable candidate and try out his flirting skills(?) and collection of miserable pick up lines. Has also been described as creepy, desperate and disillusioned.

Can be categorized as:

Narcissism personified -

The kind who's orkut album always contains a pic that he clicked of himself in the mirror. Dreamy eyes. Pouty lips. Shirt buttons half undone. No wonder he couldn't get anyone else to click that picture!

Our John Abraham wannabe bravely performed the task on his own.. and in a momentary lapse of both sanity and modesty, put it up on the public album.

Then, goes on to describe himself in various degrees of cool and sexy and also posts a link to a Yahoo! album (orkut's 12 pic album would never suffice to capture him in all his good-looking glory).


Old-fashioned-lover-boy -

The kind that scraps an ode to your eyes (stolen right out of Shah Rukh's luscious lips). Their depth, their color and their innocence. Doesn't matter if the only pic you have on display has you wearing shades.

Proceeds to scrap you with images of a teddy bear and tweety bird... closely followed by a request to start a long lasting sincere relationship with you.

Already? you don't want to pen a poem about my pancreas first?


Mood Swinger -

This is the kind that hosts an album with close-up pics in every mood and the most unimaginative captions. And scraps you to say "album updated just for you".

Me smiling in happy manner.

Me stepping out of house after snow-storm.
Me 60% sad and a 40% angry.
Me thinking (sometimes hee hee).

The next one should really be:

Me- dying of sheer embarrassment!

Couldn't feast my eyes on the rest as the server misbehaved... no donut for you!


Dude in Distress -

hi cutie... i'm new to orkut.. could you please help me out.

Sure didn't need help finding me through sam > Satan > aishwarya rai > badal...why does it rain > ramprasad doesn't want to study!

Needless to mention it's the lamest pick-up like since apna 70's bollywood hero mouthed the words 'aap ko pehle kahin dekha hai'.

Unfortunately for him, I'm old to orkut and opt to ignore such requests.


Active Return-Visitor -

The kind that waits with bated breath for his daily visitor activity and sends every female on the list a friendship request. At times these are accompanied by scraps like...

hi baby... so u visited my profile. what u decided? my friend? or something more ;) ?

kya dekhna chahti hai? milna hai tho email kar...

One click!... thats all it took to invite this calamity upon myself.


Several other types (including the hopeful hunk and the message maniac) and sub-types of the species are swarming the virtual world and there are new ones mushrooming as you're reading these very words.

As orkut continues to be my primary source of entertainment... I haven't deleted my account as yet and have prepared myself to endure a few orkomeos [:)] !

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Tuesday, August 22, 2006

The pursuit of beauty

I spent all winter in layers of clothing – hats, scarves, gloves… the works! Just exposing the little part of my face that contributed towards sight and respiration. But as the warmer months came along – hemlines grew shorter, necklines wider and sleeves disappeared. Natural beauty is suddenly in focus.

Confucius had said: Everything has its beauty but no one sees it.

Just like no one saw any beauty in the dryness of my skin from the extreme winter and in the eruptions on my face thanks to the developing heat. I guess wrapping yourself up for months just makes you forget about the existence of elbows and knees until other persnickety people point out how chapped they are.

I never fussed about my skin during my teenage years. (Was too busy climbing trees and falling off of them). So, instead of attracting herds of love-sick teenage boys, I drew to myself a large number of nosey aunties who offered me herbal remedies, mythical creams, unrelenting (and unsolicited) advice and even prayer! After the creams malfunctioned and the yagnas fizzled, I sought out a dermatologist. She told me how simple it was - drink more water, sleep peacefully for 8 hours every night and most importantly, stay away from any food that was oily or cheesy or junk. In the fear that my taste-buds would plot a mutiny, I proceeded to treat myself to some samosas and paani-puris!

Flash forward – this summer, I decided to enhance my beauty quotient and improve the business of Bath and Body works. Since it looked like I had missed out on the ‘pre-summer treatments’ – I had a lot of catching up to do! I undoubtedly belonged to the ‘misbehaving’ skin type (as the attendant pointed out with a dazzling smile and a quick scan of my face). I needed to super-scrub my skin, then lift it and then dramatically firm it. Then, of course, I had to get sea-swept-just-flaunt-it hair, an all-day perfect pout and 3x fuller lashes!

I couldn’t have said it better than Helen Fielding

'Being a woman is worse than being a farmer - there is so much harvesting and crop spraying to be done: legs to be waxed, underarms shaved, eyebrows plucked, feet pumiced, skin exfoliated and moisturized, spots cleansed, roots dyed, eyelashes tinted, nails filed, cellulite massaged, stomach muscles exercised. The whole performance is so highly tuned you only need to neglect it for a few days for the whole thing to go to seed.'

Needing all the help I could get, I researched every skin-care and make-up tip that the fashion magazines and beauty pundits could scrounge up. It's ironical how beauty magazines make you feel terribly ugly. With models staring contemptuously out of those pages with their o-so-perfect air-brushed glow – my skin in comparison felt like an oil-field. (I could probably give Texas a run for its money). And then, I had the arduous task of deciding between a how-to-get-movie-star-skin-tones-in-20-days makeover and a transform-yourself-to-look-great-naked-in-1-month makeover.

In the meantime - until I have amplified my attractiveness and uncovered the 10 best kept beauty secrets of women who have never had a bad hair day – I have resorted to a bit of camouflage and large earrings and a larger grin to draw attention away from other flaws.

But, seriously, with everyone in the pursuit of perfection, I often wonder – isn’t the absence of flaw in beauty a flaw in itself?


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Friday, August 18, 2006

Seven green bottles standing on the wall

Seven green bottles standing on the wall
We drank wine from each of ‘em all
If another drink followed withal
There is no doubt we’d absolutely fall

Seven green bottles standing on the wall
Just a little sip had started it all
Then countless laughs and stories tall
And several moments to totally enthrall

The first green bottle stood on the wall
And camaraderie took over the hall
Guards and defenses were let to fall
The friendship element now firmly installed

Seven green bottles standing on the wall
Soon talk started to turn into a drawl
Writing looked more like a scrawl
And eyelids just couldn’t stay open after all

Seven green bottles standing on the wall
Hugs all around and bid adieu to all
And then followed an odd footfall
It’s now six green bottles standing on the wall


Adapted from Ten Green Bottles

Friday, August 11, 2006

Accidentally speaking


I’m a sucker for adventure sports and my white-water rafting trip was absolutely rapturous! The adrenaline rush, the spray of water on my face, the rhythm of the rowing, and exploring the underwater wildlife... after I’d launched myself headlong into the river!

Luckily, my brain didn’t go numb from the cold water and I held up my oar to indicate where I was. My boat-mates yanked, dragged and hauled me back on.

Most people return from a vacation or a trip with souvenirs and loads of cheerful anecdotes. I come laden with a collection of bumps, bruises and burns.

But, hey... rafting is one of those dangerous activities, right? Accidents are a part of the deal. However, when I just topple off my chair on a daily basis, these dangerous activity excuses just fall flat.[1] Especially after I have been involved in knocking my head on my computer screen, tripping over my own left foot and walking into a road sign.[2]

No wonder my friend once wrote about me:

FUN n ACCIDENT-PRONE...n if you stay around her long enough, u better have insurance!


Being outdoorsy, I always tried to participate in sports at school. At the start of the running race, when the gun was fired and most kids are seen zooming away – I slipped and fell and lay smelling the grass. And during volleyball, I invariably blocked with my face. When I’d had enough, I resigned to a more placid activity, like chess. It was nice, quiet and bruise-less, until I elegantly knocked the chessmen off the board![3]

Once in a blue moon, my adult instincts do take over and I do manage to walk around like a normal person. You know – when the left foot steps forward, the right one eventually follows. It fills me with pride and I feel no less than a super-hero! What with my ability to navigate protruding pieces of furniture successfully and to move an object from point A to point B without so much as a dent. And just as I’m marveling over my cat-like reflexes, my SO chooses to slam the door on my delicate, innocent little finger![4]

I have come to realize that I can’t even get through a meal without trying to maim myself with the spoon – and I have come to believe that I am the inspiration for Murphy’s Law.[5] And there’s no point trying to make anything fool-proof. I’m just too talented a fool!



[1] Only I understand the perils of an innocent looking plastic chair.

[2] One particular day I walked into a sign in the middle of the street. Funny how the sign read ‘detour’ and my feet refused to.

[3] This time it was my opponent who chose to bruise me.

[4] A gruesome incident that left one person seriously injured and another desperately apologetic.

[5] It has also been suggested that I’m just plain stupid. But, I plan to ignore such statements just as I did the road sign.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Penning away...

* Warning: This is one whacky post! But, there's more to what the eye can see. Don't miss the comments section!

After watching Adaptation and exploring the thought process of a screenwriter, I tried to verbalize my thoughts while I pen a poem...
(No, I wouldn't even dare compare myself to Kaufman... just one of my whimsical rhymes!)

Poetry is a form of art
And I’m wondering how to start
I’ll play with language and with word
At times ostensible, at others absurd
Several reasons that I could write
Reasons profound or quite trite
I could let grief take over me
And question life and mortality
At times I write of situations irate
Also, now and then, I procrastinate
Prefer rhymes that help with the flow
Maybe this time I won’t use it though
And try to write like I would prose
I might like what comes to be
Or try a different rhyming scheme
Picking my lines and my themes
But when the rhymes turn a trying task
I’ll just introduce an oxygen mask
On ambiguity I just might rely
And not make clear what I imply
If I’m somber and yet it’s funny
Would you appreciate the irony?
O please don’t answer so quick
My question was simply rhetoric
Trying to follow these lyrical rules
Hoping - I don’t come across a fool
But, if you think I’m rambling on
And this poem should be withdrawn
Let me say in my defense -
It is my right, my poetic license!


Sunday, August 06, 2006

Adaptation

Adaptation (2002) - IMDB

Charlie Kaufman writes the way he lives... With Great Difficulty. His Twin Brother Donald lives the way he writes... with foolish abandon. Susan writes about life... But can't live it. John's life is a book... Waiting to be adapted. One story... Four Lives... A million ways it can end.


It’s not a story about books. It’s about creation. After getting into the mind of John Malkovich, Charlie Kaufman tries to tell the story of his own mind. His own creativity. And comes up with a movie that tells the story of its own creation.

Nicholas Cage recuperates from Captain Corelli’s Mandolin to star in Adaptation where he plays the screenwriter of the same film. What kind of a story would that be, u ask? One that’s smart, inventive and indescribable.

Anyone who has wanted to write and to express themselves on paper has felt frustration. Charlie Kaufman in this movie is such a frustrated screenwriter (He is also overweight, balding and wishes he was someone else). He is trying hard to adapt a non-fiction book... but his efforts seem to go nowhere. He thinks about the book, the writer of the book (played beautifully by Meryl Streep) and tries to delve into her mind – into her creative thought process. This leads to a non-linear story-telling process that engages and absorbs. He mocks the various clichés that screenwriters use to engage viewers and then ingeniously uses these very situations to make a movie that is anything but clichéd.

This is one movie that has made me think like no movie ever has. Among all the wrong starts, the ramblings and whacking off... there are so many subtle jokes, wise-cracks and self-references that you’re blown away by the originality and genius of Charlie Kaufman.

Sure, we’d like to be original. But, most of the time we can’t help but sensationalize the story. And play into pretensions.

Charlie Kaufman (played by Nicholas Cage): I don't want to cram in sex or guns or car chases or characters learning profound life lessons or growing or coming to like each other or overcoming obstacles to succeed in the end. The book isn't like that, and life isn't like that, it just isn't.

And when you find that that's exactly how the movie ends... don’t think that it’s a clever movie that ends in an out-of-place, silly mess. That’s the intention. The parody.

The movie weaves between fiction and reality, innovation and repetition... as Charlie Kaufman suffers from intermittent out-of-body experiences and writes himself into a script that is supposed to adapt a book that has nothing to do with him in the first place. It can only get twistier and undeniably cleverer.

The last act makes the film. Wow them in the end, and you've got a hit. You can have flaws, problems, but wow them in the end, and you've got a hit.

Kaufman wows and how!


Thursday, August 03, 2006

Aaaaaaah - the heat!

Today’s Weather:







Excessive Heat Warning
A VERY HOT AND HUMID AIRMASS WILL REMAIN IN PLACE THROUGH TODAY. ACTUAL AIR TEMPERATURES ARE FORECAST TO TOP OUT BETWEEN 95 AND 100 DEGREES, HOWEVER WITH THE ADDED HUMIDITY, HEAT INDEX VALUES WILL RISE INTO THE 105 TO 110 DEGREE RANGE.


I’m completely dehydrated, lethargic and I’m typing a lot slower. My fingers may have melted from the heat and gotten shorter! Also, my laptop refuses to cool and burns cryptic messages into my thighs! A lukewarm shower is in order. (That’s the coolest my shower goes in this weather!)

Six months of a frigid winter - I craved for June, July and August. I think the large disparity in weather conditions causes episodic memory loss. I’m sure that by the end of this year when my toes will be shorter due to frost-bite... I’ll be talking about the beautiful weather we had on Aug 3rd 2006.

As I sit among 3 fans blowing hot air onto me (and dust for good measure), I can’t help but think - we could all learn something from the weather.
It is the least affected by criticism!


Wednesday, August 02, 2006

My creative outlet

I was always in awe of art and artists. My mom painted beautifully... and I wanted to be just like her. At age 5, I started to draw apples on a plate. The apples and the plate were so grossly disproportionate that I was forced to change the title of my work to ‘Apples in a Giant’s mouth’.

I accepted that drawing wasn’t my style. But, the urge to create remained. I reached out to paints. I proceeded to paint everything from glass to pots to the neighbor’s dog!

Luckily, my parents never discouraged me. Hoping to encourage me into making another masterpiece involving fruit and the mouths of colossal beings, they exhibited all my higgledy-piggledy dust-laden work on our mantle. (Except the dog. It kept peeing in the house and we had to let the neighbors have him back).

‘Practice makes perfect’ they said and packed me off to art class. After spending 3 weeks below C level, I had to come up for air! Conventional drawing and painting wasn’t for me!

Candle making turned out to be my calling. I made some beautiful candles - some in glass containers and others that stood proudly on their own showing off their flame. I’m sure my family was relieved to find something to replace the other atrocities taking over our living room. Didn’t matter that my house looked like something out of a Harlequin romance!

But this was only until the day the sink was clogged with all the little bits of wax that had been flowing through it. I am now extremely skilled at using a plunger and unclogging plumbing. Could that qualify as art?

And my mom had to have ‘the talk’ –
Maybe you should direct your creative outlet elsewhere. Why don’t you focus on something more sublime? (read: easy to dispose of)”

I decided to write. Easier to store and the ones that didn’t qualify – lined the shelves in my dresser. My exhibition has now moved from my mantle to clutter up cyberspace. When I drift on to a new hobby, it will join the heap of cyber-junk created by lost passwords and orphaned web pages. Until then... I’ll subject you to it!

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Major Issues

Came across Blogthings on this blog and tried one out for myself. This is what it said about me...


Your Scholastic Strength Is Deep Thinking

You aren't afraid to delve head first into a difficult subject, with mastery as your goal. You are talented at adapting, motivating others, managing resources, and analyzing risk.

You should major in:

Philosophy
Music
Theology
History
Foreign language


I pondered over being a

Philosophy major: Worrying over trees falling in forests and the sounds these trees might or might not make... I don’t think so!

Music major: After listening to the sound I create, it might be better listening to trees fall!

Theology major: Does God love me or the trees? Would He love me more if I sat on a tree? I should give up now... for God’s sake!

History major: What era? Which Emperor? Whose family tree? Amnesia attacks!

Foreign language major: tree, baum, árbol, albero, árvore ... I could probably do this. As long as it’s single words.

Conclusion:

I shouldn’t believe blogthings and remain an Engineer. Although there are times I wish it was a tree that fell on Newton... not just an apple!

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