Damn. I'm so bad at these. Anyhoo.
Three things that scare me:
1. Snakes
2. The dark
3. Horror movies
Three people who make me laugh.
1. The Mother
2. The Bratty Sister.
3. The Ben
Three things i love:
1. Dancing
2. Painting
3. Talking
Three things i hate:
1. Brinjals
2. My looks
3. My voice
Three things i dont understand:
1. Cricket
2. Boys/Men
3. Computers
Three things i'm doing right now:
1. Filling up this silly thing
2. Singing along with Jack Johnson
3. Yawning. (Sleep is came)
Three things I want to do before i die:
1. Visit Cuba (samba/rumba), Argentina (tango), France (food/art), Venice (architecture), Italy (men/wine/food), Puerto Rico (Salsa), Chennai (my 'B' boys), Calcutta (my Rimi-girl)
2. Write a novel (or 2 or 3..)
3. Sing in front of a huge crowd and get a standing ovation (but no one will ever let me. Sing, that is.)
Three things i can do:
1. Dance (latin american style)
2. Paint (abstracts/motifs/murals)
3. Cook (throw random things into a pan and produce something edible)
Three things you should listen to:
1. Jazz and Blues
2. My advice
3. Your primary group. Seriously. They affect you more than you will ever know.
Three things you should never listen to:
1. Heavy Metal/Grunge/Trance
2. Fashion advising type people thingies. Basically people who tell you what you should be waering 'this' season just cause its the 'in' thing to do. Twits.
3. Me singing
Three things i'd like to learn:
1. Guitar/saxophone/drums/jazz piano
2. Standard Ballroom dances (waltz/foxtrot/quickstep/etc)
3. How to sing such that people dont run away from you when you open your mouth and belt it out.
Three TVshows/books i watched/read as a kid:
I read too much. I'm gonna make this authors.
1. Roald Dahl
2. Enid Blyton
3. Ogden Nash
Three people i'd like to tag:
Do i have to? I dont think anyone i know would actually sit and fill all this out. No one i know is as unemployed as me.
Monday, 12 March 2007
Unfortunately, Me
What would i give for bee-stung lips and tear-filled doe eyes.
a save-me look and a miniscule size
of dress hanging in my cupboard, along with others
just as pretty. and for some brothers
who'd beat up a boy for me, and punch
him across the face. a bunch
of lovely flowers and some elegant, tiny earrings,
long fingers and silver rings,
that adorn and enhance their beauty, a shape
thats slim and sexy, a nape
thats beatifully curved, tiny perky breasts
and a pendant that nests,
amongst them like it belongs, a voice that's clear
and that all want to hear,
lovely long wavy tresses, smooth and silky,
and skin thats pale and milky
slender ankles with slim golden chains,
frail wrists and the main
thing is, i'd rather that, a man would sit and stare
at me, and maybe dare,
to ask me out, fervently hoping that i would agree.
But unfortunately, thats just not me.
I slip, i trip, i fall down and do stupid things,
I cannot sing
a true-blue note, i'm extremely wide-hipped,
and unfairly thin-lipped
and i chew those damn nails, and my eyes,
are small and beady, guys
dont ever want to lift my bags or hold my books,
I never get lingering looks,
unless they're directed at my "weird" fashion sense,
long earrings and my size ten,
skirts that cling to each and every curve, the staring
of men at my shirts, baring
and exposing my ample chest, the graceless walk
and the incessant talk.
the short stubby fingers, a nose thats uneven
tangled messy hair, my heathen
-like demeanor, my wide strong capable shoulders,
which should be lifting boulders,
a hearty shrug, a wicked grin, salsa-thighs
that wobble and a size
that isnt 'conducive to dancing'. i'm plain, as plain as could be.
That, unfortunately, is definitely me.
a save-me look and a miniscule size
of dress hanging in my cupboard, along with others
just as pretty. and for some brothers
who'd beat up a boy for me, and punch
him across the face. a bunch
of lovely flowers and some elegant, tiny earrings,
long fingers and silver rings,
that adorn and enhance their beauty, a shape
thats slim and sexy, a nape
thats beatifully curved, tiny perky breasts
and a pendant that nests,
amongst them like it belongs, a voice that's clear
and that all want to hear,
lovely long wavy tresses, smooth and silky,
and skin thats pale and milky
slender ankles with slim golden chains,
frail wrists and the main
thing is, i'd rather that, a man would sit and stare
at me, and maybe dare,
to ask me out, fervently hoping that i would agree.
But unfortunately, thats just not me.
I slip, i trip, i fall down and do stupid things,
I cannot sing
a true-blue note, i'm extremely wide-hipped,
and unfairly thin-lipped
and i chew those damn nails, and my eyes,
are small and beady, guys
dont ever want to lift my bags or hold my books,
I never get lingering looks,
unless they're directed at my "weird" fashion sense,
long earrings and my size ten,
skirts that cling to each and every curve, the staring
of men at my shirts, baring
and exposing my ample chest, the graceless walk
and the incessant talk.
the short stubby fingers, a nose thats uneven
tangled messy hair, my heathen
-like demeanor, my wide strong capable shoulders,
which should be lifting boulders,
a hearty shrug, a wicked grin, salsa-thighs
that wobble and a size
that isnt 'conducive to dancing'. i'm plain, as plain as could be.
That, unfortunately, is definitely me.
Saturday, 10 March 2007
The Bhangra-Tango Chronicles
This is the first in the series(hopefully, there will be a series)
The reason for this post:
Ever since i started dancing, (learning/teaching), The Mother and her bunch of friends (here forth called the 'Abacus Biddies', but that's another story) decided that they also want to learn to salsa. Salsa, mind you. Salsa. Fast, spinning type dance. Biddies + Salsa = Broken bones = Hospital bills and Bed rest = monetary trouble for Old fogey husband men and mommy sitting duties for dutiful daughters/sons (collectively known as the AB babies, no connection to the Bachchans whatsoever).
So, after a lot of procrastinating and persuading them to start with a slower dance like the rumba or with a dance like the cha-cha which is danced to songs that they would appreciate, i.e. music which is a part of their generation. But no, NOW they want to learn the tango. The Argentine Tango, no less. Which, like Pierre Dulaine (played by Antonio Banderas in the movie 'Take The lead') says, 'needs to be earned'. Heck, I didn't have the guts to learn it until i finished almost 2 years of dancing.
So, one day, The Mother and The Father are both at home one evening (which is a rare occurrence) and they started harassing me to teach them the tango. So, bracing myself, muttering curses under my breath and platitudes to Terpsichore to save me from These Two, I reluctantly agree.
Shift the furniture around, put the dog out into the balcony and close the door(she is very jumpy and tends to dance along with you) and put on some music.
I explain the basic 8 steps, and The Mother interrupts with a "I don't get it". To which i reply, "Ma, can I please finish my sentence?"
They dutifully follow my movements and directions for the next 2 minutes, then The Father asks me whether he needs to place his foot where he is currently placing it or a centimetre to the right. The tango is precise, my friends, but not THAT precise.
After they practise a bit more, I explain some more to them(not going into the details here, not worth my time and your lack of attention/interest), and The Mother goes, "See if you explain it this way, then I understand. Say it like this"
Who is the teacher here?! She doesn't even know the 'T' of tango!
I tell you, these parents!
BUT this is not the worst bit. And this is just the much-needed background for my topic.
The next day, The Mother, during one of her interminably long phone conversations, proudly announces to one of The Biddies, "Yesterday, my daughter taught me tango"
"Yea of course she'll teach you also"
"Why don't you and D and R and S(various other Biddies) come over on such-and-such day at such-and-such time....(to me: "baby, you don't have class then na?" i shake my head).. haan, she's free."
:O (In my head: HELP! MOTHER, WHAT IN HEAVENS NAME ARE YOU GETTING ME INTO NOW?)
so she looks elsewhere and keeps talking.
Darn it.
I manage to convince her and them, along the line, somewhere that it would be much better to start with a dance like the rumba.
D-day arrives and I come home to find a gaggle of middle aged women in my living room along The Sister(who claims to have two left feet and hates dancing) and one of the AB babies, P, who I know for a fact, cannot dance.
So, all professional, I go and put on my shoes and start setting up the music.
The Mother: "Baby, we're all very hungry, why don't you order bhel for us from around the corner?"
After half an hour, when all the plates have been put away and people are fed-up and full-filled (;)), I say, "Shall we sta..."
only to be interrupted by Biddy N: " haha, I'm so full now, I cant even move"
Me: "umm...."
Others: " yea OK, come on, lets get up"
So we start doing the basic step and everybody is going out of time. I say follow my counts "one, two, three, four", but nobody follows except for Miss Two-Left-Feet (The Sister) and The Mother who has had a secret private class in the rumba before.
Every time someone messes up, they all stop and giggle, P abuses and shakes his head, The Sister stays mum. And I try to restore order, without much success.
NO ONE follows my count, or the timing of the music. The Biddies have a Bollywood jhatka way of moving their hips, P moves like a caveman and The Sister is the only one who seems to show some semblance of the Latin hip movement required for the rumba. *SIGH*
I've been teaching the rumba for 1.5 years, I've taught old and young alike, I've taught people who cannot move and people who you have to only demonstrate a move for and they copy it perfectly, I've taught one-on-one and a class of 30, BUT I've never had so much problem as I did with this bunch.
Honestly, the only saving grace was The Sister, who listened to every word I said and managed to execute the steps well. This from a girl who doesn't like dancing, and who claims not to be able to dance! Sheesh.
Later that night, i tried to figure out why this was so difficult and I realised that, these women, can never look at me as being "superior" to them in any respect. They cannot see me as their 'teacher'; for them I will always be a child in their eyes, especially since I am, in effect, their (this refers to ALL of them) child.
Thus they could not give me the respect they would give a teacher/professor type of person.
I'm not saying that they're incapable of it, just that they didn't
then.You never know, tomorrow is another day and I might just have a better class with them sometime in the near future(hopefully).
*Keeping fingers crossed*
That's all for now, I shall keep y'all updated as and when the next class happens. Over and Out.
The reason for this post:
Ever since i started dancing, (learning/teaching), The Mother and her bunch of friends (here forth called the 'Abacus Biddies', but that's another story) decided that they also want to learn to salsa. Salsa, mind you. Salsa. Fast, spinning type dance. Biddies + Salsa = Broken bones = Hospital bills and Bed rest = monetary trouble for Old fogey husband men and mommy sitting duties for dutiful daughters/sons (collectively known as the AB babies, no connection to the Bachchans whatsoever).
So, after a lot of procrastinating and persuading them to start with a slower dance like the rumba or with a dance like the cha-cha which is danced to songs that they would appreciate, i.e. music which is a part of their generation. But no, NOW they want to learn the tango. The Argentine Tango, no less. Which, like Pierre Dulaine (played by Antonio Banderas in the movie 'Take The lead') says, 'needs to be earned'. Heck, I didn't have the guts to learn it until i finished almost 2 years of dancing.
So, one day, The Mother and The Father are both at home one evening (which is a rare occurrence) and they started harassing me to teach them the tango. So, bracing myself, muttering curses under my breath and platitudes to Terpsichore to save me from These Two, I reluctantly agree.
Shift the furniture around, put the dog out into the balcony and close the door(she is very jumpy and tends to dance along with you) and put on some music.
I explain the basic 8 steps, and The Mother interrupts with a "I don't get it". To which i reply, "Ma, can I please finish my sentence?"
They dutifully follow my movements and directions for the next 2 minutes, then The Father asks me whether he needs to place his foot where he is currently placing it or a centimetre to the right. The tango is precise, my friends, but not THAT precise.
After they practise a bit more, I explain some more to them(not going into the details here, not worth my time and your lack of attention/interest), and The Mother goes, "See if you explain it this way, then I understand. Say it like this"
Who is the teacher here?! She doesn't even know the 'T' of tango!
I tell you, these parents!
BUT this is not the worst bit. And this is just the much-needed background for my topic.
The next day, The Mother, during one of her interminably long phone conversations, proudly announces to one of The Biddies, "Yesterday, my daughter taught me tango"
"Yea of course she'll teach you also"
"Why don't you and D and R and S(various other Biddies) come over on such-and-such day at such-and-such time....(to me: "baby, you don't have class then na?" i shake my head).. haan, she's free."
:O (In my head: HELP! MOTHER, WHAT IN HEAVENS NAME ARE YOU GETTING ME INTO NOW?)
so she looks elsewhere and keeps talking.
Darn it.
I manage to convince her and them, along the line, somewhere that it would be much better to start with a dance like the rumba.
D-day arrives and I come home to find a gaggle of middle aged women in my living room along The Sister(who claims to have two left feet and hates dancing) and one of the AB babies, P, who I know for a fact, cannot dance.
So, all professional, I go and put on my shoes and start setting up the music.
The Mother: "Baby, we're all very hungry, why don't you order bhel for us from around the corner?"
After half an hour, when all the plates have been put away and people are fed-up and full-filled (;)), I say, "Shall we sta..."
only to be interrupted by Biddy N: " haha, I'm so full now, I cant even move"
Me: "umm...."
Others: " yea OK, come on, lets get up"
So we start doing the basic step and everybody is going out of time. I say follow my counts "one, two, three, four", but nobody follows except for Miss Two-Left-Feet (The Sister) and The Mother who has had a secret private class in the rumba before.
Every time someone messes up, they all stop and giggle, P abuses and shakes his head, The Sister stays mum. And I try to restore order, without much success.
NO ONE follows my count, or the timing of the music. The Biddies have a Bollywood jhatka way of moving their hips, P moves like a caveman and The Sister is the only one who seems to show some semblance of the Latin hip movement required for the rumba. *SIGH*
I've been teaching the rumba for 1.5 years, I've taught old and young alike, I've taught people who cannot move and people who you have to only demonstrate a move for and they copy it perfectly, I've taught one-on-one and a class of 30, BUT I've never had so much problem as I did with this bunch.
Honestly, the only saving grace was The Sister, who listened to every word I said and managed to execute the steps well. This from a girl who doesn't like dancing, and who claims not to be able to dance! Sheesh.
Later that night, i tried to figure out why this was so difficult and I realised that, these women, can never look at me as being "superior" to them in any respect. They cannot see me as their 'teacher'; for them I will always be a child in their eyes, especially since I am, in effect, their (this refers to ALL of them) child.
Thus they could not give me the respect they would give a teacher/professor type of person.
I'm not saying that they're incapable of it, just that they didn't
then.You never know, tomorrow is another day and I might just have a better class with them sometime in the near future(hopefully).
*Keeping fingers crossed*
That's all for now, I shall keep y'all updated as and when the next class happens. Over and Out.
Tuesday, 20 February 2007
The Good Side of Feminism
for once i was up early this morning, fresh, bathed, clean, slightly damp and veryveryveryvery tired.
Sitting at the dining table with the mother and she decides to read out a poem, at which proclamation, i usually groan inwardly and switch off the brain. this time i decided not to. glad i didnt.
she was reading a book of poems by Maya Angelou, who is quite an amazing writer, btw. so she read this one out.. and i wanted to share it with the world (even though nobody reads my blog regularly, yet)
Phenomenal Woman -- Maya Angelou
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when i start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms,
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
Its the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they cant touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I dont shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need for my care.
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
(i like to think i'm that confident.....)
Sitting at the dining table with the mother and she decides to read out a poem, at which proclamation, i usually groan inwardly and switch off the brain. this time i decided not to. glad i didnt.
she was reading a book of poems by Maya Angelou, who is quite an amazing writer, btw. so she read this one out.. and i wanted to share it with the world (even though nobody reads my blog regularly, yet)
Phenomenal Woman -- Maya Angelou
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when i start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms,
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
Its the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they cant touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I dont shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need for my care.
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
(i like to think i'm that confident.....)
Music and its Moods
I used to think there was a song for every feeling in the world.. everytime i am strongly under the influence of an emotion i find a song that suits my mood.
somehow, i cant find a song that i can identify with at the moment. Is it because i dont listen to a particular genre? Or is it that there isnt a song written yet for this kinda mood? Or is it that maybe i am meant to write the song for this mood? (but the words wont come, i tried)
wah!
somehow, i cant find a song that i can identify with at the moment. Is it because i dont listen to a particular genre? Or is it that there isnt a song written yet for this kinda mood? Or is it that maybe i am meant to write the song for this mood? (but the words wont come, i tried)
wah!
Monday, 5 February 2007
Buddy Guy *sigh*
so i went for the Buddy Guy concert! :D
C got me tickets to the concert, which was organised by the One Tree Music festival.. and i totally had to go..
My aunt's come down from New York, and she's quite a partay annimull, so i decided to take her along.. so about 5 of us ended up going there together.. and oh mah gawd!
OHHH MAAAH GAAAWWD!!
i know this sounds kinda crazy but he's brilliant that man, i could fall in love with him.. really.
before the concert there were a bunch of singers from bombay who just got onto the stage and performed a bit.. really good stuff.. there was this acapella band called Conchorde who were absofuckinglutely brilliant. http://smileyourbluesaway.blogspot.com/2006/08/best-bathroom-singers-youve-ever-heard.html
how can you not like these boys?
apparently they aint together no more, what a shame! :(
i'd love to get my hands on some of their music...
getting back to Buddy Guy, i'd only heard a few songs by him, and i liked them but i'd been in a Michael Buble mood for a very long while and i hadnt heard his (BG's) songs too often..
so i was with C buying a bottle of water and when we heard them start the concert, i almost ran toward the stage, luckily we'd reached a bit early and found a place somewhere in front, so we got there and i put my stuff down, he started singing, strumming and i was a goner.. just stood there and swayed and 'wiggled my butt' and had a blast..
dressed in a simple khaki shirt and pants with this cute little hat on his head (i think its called a fedora, without the feather) and this pale yellow guitar, he just moved his fingers and mouth in such a way that i'm sure got the ladies (and gentlemen) in the audience feeling the same way a female rock fan feels, just before she takes off her underwear and flings it on stage.
he's probably around 60 but man that guys got a powerful voice, he could be heard over the electronics even when he whispered, geeez and what clarity! most singers, even if theyre that talented, mumble into the mike. and whatttta performer, crowd pleaser, babeh..
there was this ramp going up sideways the front of the stage and at one point he walked down in and came into the crowd and walked through, happily playing his guitar all along and singing.. then he went back otward the stage and ran up the ramp..
then walter trout came out and they performed together and there was this other guy on the keyboard who was brill-fuckin'-iant and another fellow on the guitar who was amazing..
there was a point when the three of them were just jamming together, walter trout, BG and the keyboardist and i just closed my eyes and let my body sway to the music until the lady behind me, who was this 'larger than average' woman in a horrible black and white lycra tshirt clinging to her 'curves' and shaking her thang, started singing on the top of her voice.. and that killed the mood for me..
at the end of the concert he came and threw a few of his picks into the crowd and i've never seen people jump like that to get them... then out came the famous polka dotted guitar and 'Mustang Sally', baby... which has got to be the sexiest song in the world, whatta hip-thrusting beat!
i loved loved loved loved being there, and to think that i was going to leave early and go dancing at Bohemia which i do almost every weekend, jeeeeez (silly Nat)
inspite of fat singing lady and other idiots who thought they could sing along with the man, and the whole crowd thing, whatta concert...
THIS was real singing, a real performance, a real live kick ass concert...
and worth way waay waaay more than the six hundred bucks it cost.
(oh for all you BG fans, my friend has taken a video of a part of the concert and i shall post the link here as soon as i can)
C got me tickets to the concert, which was organised by the One Tree Music festival.. and i totally had to go..
My aunt's come down from New York, and she's quite a partay annimull, so i decided to take her along.. so about 5 of us ended up going there together.. and oh mah gawd!
OHHH MAAAH GAAAWWD!!
i know this sounds kinda crazy but he's brilliant that man, i could fall in love with him.. really.
before the concert there were a bunch of singers from bombay who just got onto the stage and performed a bit.. really good stuff.. there was this acapella band called Conchorde who were absofuckinglutely brilliant. http://smileyourbluesaway.blogspot.com/2006/08/best-bathroom-singers-youve-ever-heard.html
how can you not like these boys?
apparently they aint together no more, what a shame! :(
i'd love to get my hands on some of their music...
getting back to Buddy Guy, i'd only heard a few songs by him, and i liked them but i'd been in a Michael Buble mood for a very long while and i hadnt heard his (BG's) songs too often..
so i was with C buying a bottle of water and when we heard them start the concert, i almost ran toward the stage, luckily we'd reached a bit early and found a place somewhere in front, so we got there and i put my stuff down, he started singing, strumming and i was a goner.. just stood there and swayed and 'wiggled my butt' and had a blast..
dressed in a simple khaki shirt and pants with this cute little hat on his head (i think its called a fedora, without the feather) and this pale yellow guitar, he just moved his fingers and mouth in such a way that i'm sure got the ladies (and gentlemen) in the audience feeling the same way a female rock fan feels, just before she takes off her underwear and flings it on stage.
he's probably around 60 but man that guys got a powerful voice, he could be heard over the electronics even when he whispered, geeez and what clarity! most singers, even if theyre that talented, mumble into the mike. and whatttta performer, crowd pleaser, babeh..
there was this ramp going up sideways the front of the stage and at one point he walked down in and came into the crowd and walked through, happily playing his guitar all along and singing.. then he went back otward the stage and ran up the ramp..
then walter trout came out and they performed together and there was this other guy on the keyboard who was brill-fuckin'-iant and another fellow on the guitar who was amazing..
there was a point when the three of them were just jamming together, walter trout, BG and the keyboardist and i just closed my eyes and let my body sway to the music until the lady behind me, who was this 'larger than average' woman in a horrible black and white lycra tshirt clinging to her 'curves' and shaking her thang, started singing on the top of her voice.. and that killed the mood for me..
at the end of the concert he came and threw a few of his picks into the crowd and i've never seen people jump like that to get them... then out came the famous polka dotted guitar and 'Mustang Sally', baby... which has got to be the sexiest song in the world, whatta hip-thrusting beat!
i loved loved loved loved being there, and to think that i was going to leave early and go dancing at Bohemia which i do almost every weekend, jeeeeez (silly Nat)
inspite of fat singing lady and other idiots who thought they could sing along with the man, and the whole crowd thing, whatta concert...
THIS was real singing, a real performance, a real live kick ass concert...
and worth way waay waaay more than the six hundred bucks it cost.
(oh for all you BG fans, my friend has taken a video of a part of the concert and i shall post the link here as soon as i can)
Sunday, 4 February 2007
a new beginning, a new friendship and a bitchy rant
i've been meaning to post for a while now.. but somehow i've never gotten round to doing it..
someone commented the other day that this is more like a diary than a blog.. and now i'm confused.. isnt a blog supposed to be like an online diary/journal?!
do let me know if i'm wrong.. very new to the blogging scene and all..
i SO didnt want to start off the new year/this blog with a whole bunch of new years resolutions/rant about some seriously annoying people but thats what is uppermost on my mind right now so i'm gonna have to..
first the new years resolutions.. yes i know its february and not technically the new year.. and that i've wasted a whole month sitting on my ass not doing anything about my "resolutions" so i'm gonna post them here, so that if any of you catch me sitting around not sticking to these resolutions, you can whup my pretty little butt back into shape...
(1) lose weight: very very very important, i need to fit to be a dancer and i am [i]anything[/i] but fit right now.. so that basically means gym, proper diet and no eating outside food.. at all!!
(2) become more proactive about my career/interests
(3) get my hurt hand fixed properly, its been screwed up for about 4 months now and again for dancing it needs to be completely normal.. also for painting
(4) write to my friends out of town more often
(5) generally write more often, i'm getting sick of people tellin me that i can write but i aint doing anything about it, so i will faithfully try to put up atleast one post in 2 days
(6) i need to take of my skin and all, generally beautify.. i've never been a big one for doing that kinda stuff, but the little effort put into making yourself look nice, (not one of those 'glamdoll' madeup model types) is totally worth the effort.
(7) work on learning how to sketch, ye ai know its sounds odd that a 'painter' cant draw, but i am a painter after all not an artist and that too a self taught painter.. so i must learn how to draw with pencil/chracoal/ink etc..
should finish one sketch/painting/drawing a day
i should stop there, anymore and i wont have a life, not that i have much of one nowadays but yea..
and now we come to the rant: *evil grin*
have you ever met someone who, initially seems nice, but kinda over-enthusiastic.. and once you kinda get to know them, seriously starts to annoy the hell outta you? this is happening to me right now..
say about a couple months ago i met a girl (lets call her X) through some common friends and we hung out a bit, she also dances so we used to go out dancing and stuff, did a bit of shopping and hung around at coffee shops.. 'sipping overpriced espressos' (as my friend B so eloquently puts it)
she seemed nice, we had fun hanging around, it always feels good to get to know someone new..though she seemed a tad bit overexcited about everything in life..
now that i look back, i think the problem started when X was introduced to a couple of my friends and she started hanging with them too..and suddenly she was pushing herself into every aspect of my life, calling me all the time, saying stuff about how much the 2 of us had in common, (which, btw, wasnt much at all) and i started feeling a bit suffocated.. and slowly slowly i started getting veryvery annoyed with her.. the woman (actually she's a child, no matter how mature she claims to be) actually started telling me what my friends were upto! i mean, seriously, the gall of this girl knows no bounds.
i even tried to hint in some very obvious ways that i dont much care for her, but it doesnt have seemed to have worked, can a person be really that thick-skinned? or is it that she's just that desperate to be friends with me?
*snort* (yea riiiight, dont kid yourself, Nat)
the thing is, she's rude, obnoxious, hypocritical, overobsessive, childish, thick-skinned, opinionated and extremely clingy..
EVERYTHING about her has started pissing me off.. and now i cant stand to be around her...
BUT the problem is that for some reason i keep calling her up, and we keep meeting... is it because i'm masochistic, as another friend pointed out (hmph!), or is it just that we have a lot in common, interest-wise and we end up doing fun things together?
*sigh*
oh and i made a new friend... finally found someone with whom i can watch old movies, attend blues concerts and listen to old music.. :D... good feeling!
someone commented the other day that this is more like a diary than a blog.. and now i'm confused.. isnt a blog supposed to be like an online diary/journal?!
do let me know if i'm wrong.. very new to the blogging scene and all..
i SO didnt want to start off the new year/this blog with a whole bunch of new years resolutions/rant about some seriously annoying people but thats what is uppermost on my mind right now so i'm gonna have to..
first the new years resolutions.. yes i know its february and not technically the new year.. and that i've wasted a whole month sitting on my ass not doing anything about my "resolutions" so i'm gonna post them here, so that if any of you catch me sitting around not sticking to these resolutions, you can whup my pretty little butt back into shape...
(1) lose weight: very very very important, i need to fit to be a dancer and i am [i]anything[/i] but fit right now.. so that basically means gym, proper diet and no eating outside food.. at all!!
(2) become more proactive about my career/interests
(3) get my hurt hand fixed properly, its been screwed up for about 4 months now and again for dancing it needs to be completely normal.. also for painting
(4) write to my friends out of town more often
(5) generally write more often, i'm getting sick of people tellin me that i can write but i aint doing anything about it, so i will faithfully try to put up atleast one post in 2 days
(6) i need to take of my skin and all, generally beautify.. i've never been a big one for doing that kinda stuff, but the little effort put into making yourself look nice, (not one of those 'glamdoll' madeup model types) is totally worth the effort.
(7) work on learning how to sketch, ye ai know its sounds odd that a 'painter' cant draw, but i am a painter after all not an artist and that too a self taught painter.. so i must learn how to draw with pencil/chracoal/ink etc..
should finish one sketch/painting/drawing a day
i should stop there, anymore and i wont have a life, not that i have much of one nowadays but yea..
and now we come to the rant: *evil grin*
have you ever met someone who, initially seems nice, but kinda over-enthusiastic.. and once you kinda get to know them, seriously starts to annoy the hell outta you? this is happening to me right now..
say about a couple months ago i met a girl (lets call her X) through some common friends and we hung out a bit, she also dances so we used to go out dancing and stuff, did a bit of shopping and hung around at coffee shops.. 'sipping overpriced espressos' (as my friend B so eloquently puts it)
she seemed nice, we had fun hanging around, it always feels good to get to know someone new..though she seemed a tad bit overexcited about everything in life..
now that i look back, i think the problem started when X was introduced to a couple of my friends and she started hanging with them too..and suddenly she was pushing herself into every aspect of my life, calling me all the time, saying stuff about how much the 2 of us had in common, (which, btw, wasnt much at all) and i started feeling a bit suffocated.. and slowly slowly i started getting veryvery annoyed with her.. the woman (actually she's a child, no matter how mature she claims to be) actually started telling me what my friends were upto! i mean, seriously, the gall of this girl knows no bounds.
i even tried to hint in some very obvious ways that i dont much care for her, but it doesnt have seemed to have worked, can a person be really that thick-skinned? or is it that she's just that desperate to be friends with me?
*snort* (yea riiiight, dont kid yourself, Nat)
the thing is, she's rude, obnoxious, hypocritical, overobsessive, childish, thick-skinned, opinionated and extremely clingy..
EVERYTHING about her has started pissing me off.. and now i cant stand to be around her...
BUT the problem is that for some reason i keep calling her up, and we keep meeting... is it because i'm masochistic, as another friend pointed out (hmph!), or is it just that we have a lot in common, interest-wise and we end up doing fun things together?
*sigh*
oh and i made a new friend... finally found someone with whom i can watch old movies, attend blues concerts and listen to old music.. :D... good feeling!
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