August 9th, 2008 by galadriel

I reflect. I write.

I was born in Madras. I was brought up in Bangalore and Pune.

I love Pune. I used to love Bangalore even more. I hate Madras.

I love the dawn. I hate waking up early.

I love taking a hot shower. I hate leaving the bathroom steamy.

I love drinking my tea. I hate making it.

I love being punctual. I hate rushing about trying to achieve it.

I love my keychain. I hate locking up.

I love the snow. I hate the cold.

I love the little puffs of warm breath coming out of my mouth. I hate the tip of my nose getting cold.

I love the ride in the bus to school. I hate that I don’t have a car.

I love New York. I hate New Brunswick. I love Highland Park.

I love eating home made food. I hate cooking.

I love working hard. I hate not achieving the desired results.

I love Jeffery Archer. I hate Sidney Sheldon.

I love being tall. I hate high heels.

I love jewelry. I hate wearing it.

I love rings. I hate the shape of my hands.

I love my younger brother. I hate not having an elder one.

I love driving. I hate Pune’s roads.

I love cleaning up. I hate people who make messes.

I love IM. I hate typing.

I love singing. I hate singing alone.

I love people. I hate having to be with them all the time.

I love being by myself. I hate loneliness.

I love Oceanography. I hate ChemOc.

I love reading. I hate studying.

I love music. I love Guru.

I love smiling. I hate not being able to make someone smile.

I love the sound of the birds chirping in the morning. I hate that they make me wake up early.

I love the smell of the earth after the first rain. I hate Pune’s monsoon.

I love beautiful Kashmir. I hate all the unrest there.

I love my fiery spirit. I hate my short temper.

I love being independent. I hate being un-emotional.

I love my friends. I hate having lost some pretty darned good ones.

I love being in love. I hate not knowing whether I am.

Dug up from the archives of a previous blog that existed at a time when life was easier. Posted because Alice pushed me to. Thanks babe.

Incidentally this post also holds the honor of being my 100th post. Yayy!

August 3rd, 2008 by galadriel

Why am I gifted with an advisor who waits a month and a half after my defense to change the title of my thesis? That too after have obtained one committee member’s signature (who’s off to Antarctica on a field trip) and my graduate director (who’s off on some conference and won’t be back till 13th Aug) ?

And since when did I become brave enough to pursue this as a matter of integrity? I simply refused to change the title and obtained all the necessary signatures, much to my advisor’s chagrin? Quite proud of myself I am.

August 1st, 2008 by galadriel

He is jobless. He’s watching TV. Then he goes and plays his step brother’s drumset. Then he watches more TV while he is sweating. He comes home, sees his step brother watching TV and sweating. They get into a fight. Get this. He runs upstairs and rubs his “nutset on your drumset”. They become best friends because they like the same dinosaur and want to sleep with John Stamos. They make a rap song titled ‘Boats and Hoes’ and sing it during a Catelina Wine House Mixer presentation lunch while the actual band sings ’80s Joel songs. They beat up their father while they both sleepwalk and put stuff in the refrigerator and the oven respectively.

Now you tell me, why wouldn’t anyone enjoy this movie?