Seven years has gone so fast, wake me up when September ends

One final entry and then the birthday chapter can be closed for a year. September is really quite a crazy month with all the birthdays of people I know and it seems everywhere I go in blogworld, I am greeted with more birthday tales. And another friend from school is also turning 24 on the 30th so still one more September birthday party left for me!

So, the party was mad. I wish I could give you some highlights but I really don’t remember anything. Not in the ‘I was so wasted and can’t remember a thing’ way but it was all just a blur and there were so many people and conversations happening at the same time that by the end of the night I had no clue what had happened. I was just very drunk as was everyone else and I can chalk it up as another wild night to my ever-so-long list of wild nights. I did some quick mental math also (ok I lied, I had to use my fingers and also some pen and paper) and there were 26 people in total including my household and only 2 people didn’t drink (one was driving and the other is a teetotaller) and everyone brought shitloads of alcohol… and I mean, shitloads… and this was hard alcohol… whisky, bourbon, vodka, rum… no baby stuff for us… it was about 15 bottles in total… the next morning I looked and there was 1 bottle of Smirnoff left, half a bottle of Bacardi, half a bottle of Malibu and some dreadful UDL (disgusting vodka pre-mixes) cans, some of which have been there since last New Years. So basically 24 people polished off about 12 bottles of alcohol… that is so wrong and so right at the same time.

And speaking of alcohol, a couple of friends from work bought a whopping 1125ml bottle of Bacardi to bring to my party (because they are all aware of my rum obsession) and they hid it in the office and forgot to bring it along that night and now it is sitting here on my desk taunting me in its full alcoholic glory. I think I am going to put it back into hiding because it is frightening me a little.

One of my friends also did a quick drug run in between and brought us some stuff to smoke from his house. And we smoked it in the cutest little pipe… it was so small and shiny and cute.

All of the pictures are of drunk faces… I was too busy getting drunk to worry about blog-worthy photos. Anyway, I have blurred a couple for your viewing pleasure.

Here are some people taking vodka shots… I did not participate for the sake of my health and well-being



Here are the beautiful helium balloons that my friends from work got me. They are so bright and colourful and happy and I got immense pleasure from looking at them



Say Hello to Scooby Dooby Doo… the most popular guest at the party. One of my friends from work brought him along and I was rather concerned Scooby was going to poop all over the carpet and add to the general alcohol and food stains. But Scooby was very well-behaved and everyone lavished much attention on him and didn’t want him to leave. Poor little Scooby was originally a farm dog (he belonged to my friend’s husband, the farmer who gave me those shot glasses and liquor bottles) but he was never cut out to be a farm dog and I think the cows terrified him no end and he was basically very traumatised and they gave him to this guy G at work and he’s like this single, middle-aged guy and they basically love each other to death now and it was the start of a very beautiful relationship. So that’s the story of Scooby.



I received some nice presents from friends who came to the party also. Firstly my four work friends who sit around me at work wrote the most random, rambling convoluted tale about me and my dog Holly based on all the nonsense I’ve ever said to them over 1.5 years. I would share it with you, only you’d think they or me (or both) were on crack! It was very sweet, all the same. They also got me Lazy Shit from the Turd family. We got another friend Dumb Shit a while back and slowly we must build the whole family.

I also received:



a Beatles Abbey Road LP

a Beatles ‘A Hard Day’s Night’ DVD

a beautiful chain

a beautiful bracelet

a funky MNG top

a really cool lantern type thing with candle

some yummy Ferrero Rochers (which have been attacked already)

some flowers and a bottle of wine

Birthdays I tell you… how I love them!

And what a lovely surprise I received in the mail yesterday… this year, I only received ONE greeting card by post from my grandparents and am very surprised I didn’t get a few from my parents and sister. So anyway, yesterday, I received this beautiful handwritten letter from my favourite girls in the whole world, Rat and Sista T.



It is as beautiful as some of the stuff we made when we were 11 and discovered glitter pens and things for the first time – even the handwriting is the same. Isn’t it funny how their handwriting hasn’t changed all that much since we were 11 and yet here we are at 24 (and 23 for baby Sista T) and one is a successful blogger operating out of Madras and another is an expectant mother waiting for baby in Delhi and the third is a smoker looking to escape corporate life in Melbourne. How the world turns and pulls us along.

Ok, that was my philosophy for my 24th year. I will leave you now. Wake me up when November ends because that’s when the next love-attention-party-drugs-alcohol-presents fest of Christmas begins!!

Once there was this girl who wouldn't go and change with the girls in the change room

The infamous Rat has also hit the big 24 today. Most of you already read her blog and let me just confirm that she is as sweet and genuine and funny and sincere in real life as she is on her blog. Sometimes it’s difficult to say the things we really feel about the people we really love because then you run the risk of becoming all corny and sugary but hey, it’s not like I haven’t done any of this already so here goes…

Once there was a girl called Rat and a girl called Penny Lane and they attended kindergarten and junior school together but weren’t really friends or anything. For one thing, we had our respective best friends already and for another thing, Rat’s Mom and her best friend’s Mom were teachers in our junior school and so all the other teachers used to be very nice to these two little Rats (we’ll call them both that for convenience) and they were always left in charge of the class when the teachers had a meeting and so quite naturally they used to be very smug about all this and the rest of us used to bitch about them nicely. Anyway, I started inviting them to my birthday party from the fourth standard onwards and so we sort of started getting along and then in the fifth standard, Rat, Sista T and me were school captains and we ditched class to take care of some younger class in the sports field (I don’t know why we thought we’d get away with that) and boy, was our teacher mad. But it was like our first escapade together and the start of a beautiful (and highly mad) relationship.

In high school, Rat lost all her position of power as a teacher’s daughter :p and was integrated into our larger school gang that had been together since junior school… there were like about 12 of us I think and we had many good times together but we also fought and bitched a lot and by age 13, everyone broke up into smaller groups and it was Rat, Sista T and another girl and me and that was really the beginning of you me and you. I’m not going to get into the story of you me and you again… there are just too many stories and too many memories.

Let it just be known that you couldn’t find a sweeter, more fun individual anywhere… she’s thoughtful and kind and is loved by everyone who knows her. In fact, she’s probably the only one who’s still in touch with every single friend of hers from any point in her life including most of her ex-lovers. And as for me and her, its just one big laugh fest when we’re together and a huge part of that laughing is because of the crazy questions she keeps asking. At one point, we called her Rat Question Mark because she didn’t talk and only asked seemingly irrelevant questions. Anyway, I could go on and on about the madness of Rat but if you’re not lucky enough to know it for yourself, well then, all the more bad luck to you!

Thank you dear Rat for being the best friend a girl could ask for and thank you for keeping me entertained all these years… I know you wanted a poem but it seems I must save something for Christmas and I hope this was satisfactory for now. Have a Happy Happy Birthday and I hope your party rocked. And let's keep working on getting you to Melbourne so we can live happily ever after together ;)

P.S. The title song lyrics have nothing to do with Rat... it was just one of the songs we used to laugh our asses off at when we were younger!

I need you more than anyone darling, you know that I have from the start

So much to tell… so little time… Birthday has been a total blast thus far. Actually it started last weekend itself – I am a strong believer in the birthday week concept… why celebrate just one day when you can celebrate a whole week ;) Anyway, last weekend involved much drinking and smoking and singing and it was a very tired me that started the working week on Monday.

Wednesday night, we drank some beers at home and stared at the clock from 10:30 pm willing it to go faster because I was so sleepy and tired. But I did perk up considerably when it neared 12:00 and then there was much hugging and kissing before I demanded my presents. S bought me some kick ass stuff and he even wrote me a cute poem in my card (what a year for poems this has been) and it was all very sweet and thoughtful. So presenting my hoard:



One funky iPod Nano – how tiny and sleek and sexy does it look. And don’t miss the packaging… it all fits into that double CD type box

One DKNY watch – very nice. My old watch I’ve been wearing for about 5 years and as if it knew its time was up, the battery stopped the other day and I hadn’t replaced it because I had a feeling I was getting a new one ;)

A Bob Dylan DVD which I shall watch this weekend

A photo frame because he wants all my photos to be consolidated in the one place and not displayed all over the room as they are currently

And perhaps the sweetest gift of them all, a DVD with all my old music and photos and documents that I felt were lost for good when my old PC packed up and which he recovered for me.

And he also bought me flowers last night and I have forgotten to take a picture of them. Damn!

My housemate T also bought me a very cool gift. He bought the poster and did much artwork himself to mount it and frame it, etc. Check it out hanging proudly in the living room…



I went to work rather late last morning and was greeted with the following beautiful things…



A bouquet with little notes from most of my friends

A pair of earrings that my friend actually made. Talent, I say…

A card and a beautiful shell pendant from two of my other friends

Two shot glasses and six tiny liquor bottles from the husband of one of my friends who remembers my last birthday quite vividly because the week before I went to their house for a party and got absolutely wasted on tequila shots (two friends and I finished 1.5 bottles between us) and very vocally insisted he come to my party the following week (he’s this 6 foot 5 inch well-built farmer man). I haven’t given such loud performances in a while. Maybe tonight…

I made bludging at work an art form yesterday… I did absolutely nothing except talk to people and answer phone calls. There were so many phone calls also… much fun it was. Parents, grandparents, Rat, JR, Sista T, Snoop (whose call I missed :( ), aunts, uncles, cousins, friends here and lots of emails too.

Lunch was a very lazy affair at TGIF. I shouted a round of drinks (we only had one round since we had to go back to work)… Check out my Ultimate Long Island Iced Tea… its not that lame Long Island Iced Tea your grandma sips… this is the Ultimate one. Look at the size of the bloody glass… Anyway, it didn’t really do much except make me very sleepy at work that afternoon (not that I was doing anything except transferring music to my iPod).



Finally last night, I took S and T out for dinner to Blue Train. Had a couple of Cosmopolitans (I’m actually a rum and coke chick but its nice to drink colourful drinks on your birthday even if they don’t get you high) and then we finished off at P.J. O’ Brian’s with two rounds of Pink Pussy shots!



With about half an hour left of my birthday I got to speak to my sister. Her friends had thrown her a surprise party at home about then and I was treated to a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday to me from all her friends. Madam was more interested in hanging out with her boys and girls than talking to me so I let her go after telling her to check her email because I emailed her the poem but I don’t think she’s had the time and today she’s off on an interstate class trip. Ah well, that’s 16 year olds for you…

Ended the night by listening to tons of my old music on my brand new iPod Nano for about two hours and very sleepy at work now. Damn… have to party my ass off tonight also!

S has been awesome throughout… pandering to my every whim. I wish it was my birthday every day. I suppose I’ll have to settle for the week.

And where was I before the day, that I first saw your lovely face

Tomorrow is my baby sister’s birthday. Well she’s not really a baby anymore but since she was born when I was 8 years old, I’ll always think of her as my baby sister. So, tomorrow is also my birthday. And I’ve already heard all the jokes like ‘Wow, what planning’ and ‘Mallu family wanted to save on two birthday parties’… just for the record, we have always had two birthday parties (sometimes even a third for family) except for her 1st birthday and my 9th. That was a funny birthday party. It was at the Gymkhana club and there was a merry-go-round that I kept stopping every 5 seconds to go greet everyone who arrived and there was a puppet show that was damn stupid, or was it a magic show? But since so many people were invited for her 1st birthday party, I know I got TONS of presents!

Anyway, I still remember the day my father told me I was going to have a little brother or sister. For as long as I could remember before then, every time I prayed in Church or wished for something at Christmas, there was always a ‘Dear God, please give me a baby sister’. And He actually delivered on September 22, 1989. She was really due on the 25th but decided to come out early. That night, I remember I spent the night in my parents room as a treat (I was going to be 8 after all and it was time I got used to sleeping alone) and halfway through the night, I was woken up and sent off to sleep in my room and the next morning by the time I got all dressed up (how exciting was it to not wear a uniform for one day) and armed myself with the traditional birthday sweets to distribute at school, Her Highness had arrived. After a terribly exciting day at school (it was an exam day, so I couldn’t have taken the day off) talking about my new baby sister, I rushed to the hospital to see her for the first time. And she was everything I had always imagined she would be… a cute and soft and pretty and talcum powder smelling overall adorable bundle!

She was my babe, and she still is. I constantly told her she was the best birthday present I’d ever received. I was fascinated by her when she was a baby. I had my own real life doll to play with (although my Mom never let me cut her hair). And as a toddler, she was absolutely adorable, always saying the most outrageous things. And what a freaking temper she had… she’d throw the loudest of tantrums and yell she wanted things “now only” and when she was pissed off, she had this hilarious pout and I’d call her Miss Piggy (from the Muppet Show) and that would just make her madder than before…. Once, she got so mad, she just grabbed the glasses off my face and snapped them in two… I wanted to fucking kill her. But she was always incredibly apologetic later… she’d tear the posters on my room door in anger and later she’d slip a little note saying Sorry and beautifully decorated with flowers and all that childish jazz and Rs. 50 to buy new ones (she always had shitloads of cash also)!

So she was all very sweet and lovable for a long time and then from about age 8 to 14, she became the most insufferable Miss “I want to know it all and think I know it all” for miles around. She made it her life mission to find out exactly what I was up to, which boys I had a crush on, what I was spending my money own, etc. etc. She was really something else… she pissed me off on an almost continuous basis. We had very rare moments of bonding… like when we played with our dogs or watched Friends on TV every weeknight at 8 pm… and she still ran to my room some nights and made me hug her till she fell asleep if my parents had a fight, and she still slipped me little notes of apology when we fought. But mostly it was yelling and screaming or pretending she didn’t exist or telling her without fail that she was the worst birthday present I’d ever received.

Then I left to Australia and I’ve hung out with her thrice since. Last year, I was in India for two weeks and barely got to see her or talk to her but already I could tell that she was becoming a sweet young girl and wasn’t a silly kid anymore. And of course, she somehow managed to pop a sweet note saying she loved me into a suitcase that I took to Delhi for the wedding. This year, I really got to hang out with her day and night in Virginia for two weeks and it was just incredible getting to know her like that without the distraction of friends and parties and school and Madras in general. I found out again that she was really funny and sweet and really a cool chick… and did I mention, she’s become such a hottie… watch out world, here comes my sister, da bomb! The past couple of years I don’t know if it was just all the teenage angst or what, but she went totally grunge and wore all these horrid shapeless pants and loose t-shirts… then for this trip, she told me to buy her strappy tops and party tops and I was so excited she was over that phase I went out and bought her at least 15 funky items of clothing and boy, did she look hot in them!

Anyway, there’s something about baby sisters… they get a pretty bum deal sometimes… they become the slaves of older siblings, they are the proud recipients of hand-me-downs quite often and everything they ever do is compared to what their older sibling did at that age… but also, and they may not realise this, the need to protect and defend and nurture and pamper is so strong, its almost maternal… when I go shopping before heading home for a visit, I buy stuff for everyone, but at the top of my list and at every shop I go to, its always her I want to buy the world for in an attempt to make up for not being around in the last couple of years. And I know she adores me as I adore her and secretly she wants to be just like me (and she’s actually getting there, family get confused about who’s talking and who’s wearing what) and maybe she even misses me a little in the midst of her active high school life… I know that I miss her a lot these days and I can’t wait to see her again in December. I’ve written her a poem (this is the first poem I have ever written in my entire life, so the rhyming is pretty sad and basic) and I haven’t decided if I’m going to give it to her yet.

And as for me, I’m turning 24 tomorrow. I feel old old old! I know its not really old in the grander scheme of things, but I can’t help feeling my youth just happily slipping away from me. Anyway, I am expecting many cool presents and fun lunches and dinners and phone calls from all and sundry (oooh, now I get to get birthday wishes from bloggers too, what fun) and of course big birthday bash on Friday night! I’m still feeling old but I have the rest of the year to worry about that… the next few days is all about celebrating the fact that I was born ;)

The Looking Glass

I remember the day you were born
It stands clearly in my mind
From the minute I saw your tiny face
I never wanted to leave your side

You grew older and more cheeky
You were my favourite clown
Your antics always made me smile
If ever I was down

There were times I may have shouted
There were times you pissed me off
It was all a part of growing up
I regret I didn’t show more love

Now I look at you all grown up
And I feel so very proud
That my baby sister
Is adored by such a crowd

Today you turn sweet sixteen
And I turn twenty four
You are the perfect sister
I couldn’t have asked for more

We could be identical twins
Except we’re eight years apart
This is the lamest poem ever
Except its straight from the heart

They say we look alike
At times they get confused
The ears, the nose, the eyes
Our smiles when we’re amused

Sometimes the resemblance is uncanny
For example, when we frown
But there are differences too
Where my hair is black yours is dark brown

You have a dimple in your chin
And more than a single piercing in your ears
I have a dot on my nose
To see you cry fills my eyes with tears

We are forever tied
By the bond of birthdays and blood
With our best friends Chocolate and Holly (wish I had space to name them all)
We have frolicked in the mud

Before we can meet again
A lot of time may pass
But whenever you want to see me
Take a look in the looking glass

Welcome To My Life

Sit back and relax folks… we have a hell of a lot to cover. I was tagged by The Lil’ Le Poutski and then Rat went and exposed her whole work area so I’ve decided to combine everything and expose it all.

Let’s begin with my bag… that storage device that I cant seem to get away from. I am a creature of habit and can’t be bothered moving all my stuff from bag to bag so I pretty much use the same bag for the working work and it’s an enormous pain in the ass to move stuff to my smaller bags on the weekends. Such trials, I tell you…



Anyway, the bag itself was one of the items one of my aunts bought me in May when I was in the US (as an aside, its great meeting up with aunts/grandparents who try to make up for years of no birthday and Christmas presents in two weeks). I really like the bag and the design reminds me of decorative icing on a cake.

In my bag, I carry (sounds like one of those memory games)…

A cell phone carry case that my Mom brought me from India. I keep my cell phone in it while its in the bag so it doesn’t get scratched. I don’t care that much about my cell phone, but have to use the cell phone carry case no?

My camera in its carry case. Damn, why does everything have a freaking case? I bought a really cool 7.2 mega pixel Sony Cybershot in May and I carry it with me everyday for no real reason. Digital cameras are not that bad, I guess. I stuck on to my 10 year old film camera for so long because nothing beats holding photos in your hand. So now I’ll just spend shitloads of money on printing my digital ones.

One Nine West wallet

The book I am currently reading because otherwise I would go mad with boredom on my 10 minutes to and from work on the tram. Its Salman Rushdie’s Haroun and the Sea of Stories. Its really quite funny and magical and I am enjoying it immensely – not as dark and intense as his other ones.

One pack of Wrigley’s Wild Berry Extra drops. Did you know that after eating, the pH level in your mouth drops considerably and allows cavity causing bacteria to attack? Wrigley’s Extra drops helps to restore the pH balance in your mouth so you can have strong teeth and healthy gums (fyi – straight from the pack). They are really yum and I am quite addicted!

My way cool CK sunnies (and their case;)) which S bought me last December. Before that I had a pair of Ray Bans for about 3 years and they were horribly disfigured towards the end.

Free sample of some vague perfume that I keep for fun

Lipstick and eye pencil for touch ups that I never touch up

Parker pen

One work security pass

One apartment building security pass (what a secure nation I live in)

House keys (2 nos., I told you they were dead serious about this security stuff) and a spare work key if the security pass doesn’t work for whatever absurd reason

Pack of tissues and some vague medicine

Some earrings that I’ve forgotten to take out of the bag at some point

A picture of Jesus Christ with a prayer on the back. I have one of these in every single bag I own because they’re always distributing them in front of Church or the railway station and I feel very bad to throw them away.

One electronic key that has my gym program on it, but more on new gym and peripherals later.

One compact little umbrella (in matching case) that came with the bag and for that I am very grateful because my other umbrella is this big-ass-cover-5-people kind of BMW Williams umbrella that S bought me at Formula 1 time last year when I loooved BMW Williams for Montoya and Ralf. This year I am not supporting any team, its been more of an anti-Ferrari thing and its working also. But more on Formula 1 at the end of the season.

And that concludes the tour of my beautiful earth-toned cavernous bag. Moving on to my wallet…



I have a grand total of $37 and 70 cents. Normally I only have 70 cents but for some reason I’m carrying quite a bit of liquid cash this week. Did you know that Australian notes are plastic and can’t really be torn unless you are fully determined to tear them? And yes, that is England’s Queen Elizabeth on the $5 note… Australia might as well still be a colony of England… we have a public holiday for Her Highness’s birthday and all (not that I’m complaining).

3 ANZ ATM cards… I’m only meant to have 2 and another is in the mail… the bank has been totally screwing with my life for the past month or so.

Artfully covering the ATM cards is my Sub Club Appreciation card. Two more stickers and I get a FREE 12 inch sub from Subway – the Fresh Food People. How fucking cool am I?

My National Bank credit card (which I never use) and my Virgin credit card (which I use too much).

Artfully covering the credit cards is my bloody expensive monthly Metcard.

Some other miscellaneous cards are my Indian driver’s licence which is actually my only form of ID since I don’t carry my passport around the place. I really need to get an Australian one.

We also have my 2003 student card which I am unable to let go of, my government sponsored Medicare health insurance card, a Rent Card if I wanted to pay my rent at the post office, a brand spanking new Port Phillip library card (what was I thinking spending hundreds of dollars on books every couple of months), and an Essential Beauty Club card which makes me an exclusive member of the place I get my eyebrows done at and quite frankly I had forgotten I even had such a card till I looked at it yesterday.

A Bar Secrets card of a bar called Cherry. Bar Secrets is those pack of card type things with a different bar on each card and the bloody things cannot be used as playing cards which I find slightly ridiculous. Anyway, this was in my wallet for a long time because one drunken night I think we meant to go here but eventually didn’t.

Some miscellaneous business cards and notes on my bank a/c details, tax file no., etc.

One bill (I don’t keep receipts unless there is a chance I might need to return something) and one company Cab charge. Again I had forgotten I had this cab charge, so one company sponsored ride home coming up.

One American dollar bill which I keep for sentimental reasons. I only started using this wallet a few months ago and before that I was using a wallet sent by my grandmother a few years ago and she sent the $1 bill in it and I’m still holding on to it.

And finally, a couple of photographs… my family portrait taken six years ago… this is the first thing I see when I open it and if I change wallets, my new one will also need a space for me to keep this photo. Behind the family one, I have two passport photos of S and one of Rat (yes, she’s the red one). When I left India, I asked people to give me their passport pix so I could keep in my wallet and I think she was the only one who had one.

So that’s that. Now a quick view of what I see as soon as I open my eyes every morning…



My bookcase is a total mess and slightly overflowing and I’ve resorted to piling them up beside my bed. I really need a new one.

My slightly large perfume collection – I was obsessed with perfume some years ago and collected them like mad.

My beautiful ancient TV that keeps me entertained when I’m too lazy to sit outside. Please do not miss the measures we’ve resorted to with the equally ancient and broken antenna. Neighbours is currently playing on TV if anyone cares.

My trusty heater that is never far from my side and my trusty alarm clock that never gives me (or anyone else who lives with me) a moment of peace in the mornings.

The Ferrari flag hanging on the wall is NOT mine. I don’t know why I tolerate it.

I like to surround myself with photographs of the people (and dogs) I love and there are quite a few more in other parts of the room/house.

And finally, my space at work… the place I spend most of my waking hours at… hours that would be infinitely more pleasurable spent sleeping, reading or smoking up…



My LCD monitor with my beloved dogs as the wallpaper. Well, dear Holly is no more of course but dear Chocolate is still alive and kicking. I have a post-it note with my name stuck to my monitor because my dear friend M gets kicks out of writing our names beautifully on post-it notes.

Precariously sitting on the top of my monitor is a family of Russian dolls. These are those cool dolls that fit inside the other – so you open the father and pop the mother in and you should’ve already popped all the kids inside the mother. I get immense amounts of amusement from these Russian dolls that I stole from my friend Sh who sits across from me. Also sitting there is a taxi. Everyone in the company got a different type of Matchbox car at some ‘Where are we going as a company’ type meeting. I can’t really remember what the car signified so you can tell I am a highly inspired employee.

You can also see my (well ok, the company’s) IBM T-41 laptop in its my docking station and my (these are really mine) TDK headphones that I listen to my beloved iTunes with, and my (the company’s again) cool Cisco Voice over IP phone.

My cell phone (Nokia 6610i) sits on an ugly dolphin cell phone stand that my friend Sh stole from some Christmas hamper and gave to me.

Many folders and papers and files to make it seem I work very hard and various mugs and stationery items and tissue paper.

Finally, just behind the Cisco phone, you can see a cheery Christmas stuffed dog that Sh gave me as a Christmas present last year. On that same day, we had our department Christmas party and went on this boat cruise and had the traditional Kris Kringle exchange and my Kris Kringle also gave me an identical cheery Christmas stuffed dog and so this second dog got a bit high on the boat cruise and accompanied us to a pub after the cruise and was pictured taking sips of people’s beer. So basically we decided they were twins and while Sober works hard all day in the office, Shitfaced leads a party life in my house (they were named after a set of shot glasses I have… the four stages of drinking… Sober, Drunk, Pissed and Shitfaced)!

With those pearls of wisdom I will leave you. This was really fun by the way and I’m sorry it was so long… there’s just so much to tell!

The day the music died...

Another weekend gone by and only 10 days left until the big day. The big day refers to my birthday, of course. I’m not one of those people who pretend they don’t care about their birthday and who say things like ‘oh, its no big deal’. I’m one of those people who loves birthdays, especially my own and says things like ‘oh, its my birthday, so drop everything you’re doing and come party with me’. I mean, come on, birthdays are meant to be celebrated and I’ve celebrated every single one of them like they were going out of style. Anyway, we’ll see what happens this year…

On Friday I went to the housewarming party of someone who lives on the ground floor of my apartment building. He had invited everyone in the building and since we’ve never really met any of our neighbours, we dropped in. It was mostly middle-aged to older people and a couple of young people. Shantaram became a topic of conversation as it is prone to become when a white person meets an Indian for the first time and looks for some common ground. I don’t mind… I think its great that so many of them enjoyed the book. They won’t be so biased or culture shocked if they ever visit.

At one point, the host asks me "How do you take that life-altering decision of leaving family and friends and everything familiar behind and starting out fresh in a whole new country and culture"? Fuck, good question! For me, it was never a conscious decision… it was just an undercurrent in everything I dreamed my life would be when I grew up. And when I did grow up, I couldn’t really take it all back… But when I grew up, I realised that I really loved my life in Madras and didn’t think anything could ever compare with it.

Nothing has, so far.

I remember writing something when I left three years ago, something like:

But this is everything I’ve dreamed of since age 7. So why do I wish I was 7 again and this day was still 14 years away?

So these are the choices that we make and we have to stand behind them or we would be left with nothing, no direction, no mistakes to learn from, no right to say ‘I did it’. And there are still choices, there is hope yet! I didn’t mean to get all melancholy like this. Its not that my life is shit or anything but its soooo very different to my previous life in Madras.

There I was a part of a social fabric… there was always someone to call, someone to visit, someone to smoke a cigarette with, someone to smoke a joint with, someone to have a drink in the afternoon with… there were competing priorities… education, family, partying, dogs… rushing off from a family dinner to the night’s drinking gathering… rushing off from Sunday afternoon smokes (in full stoned glory) to catch at least the latter half of Mass (and more importantly, making sure my parents saw me)… rushing off from college to give my sister a lift home, take the dog to the vet, drop the dog back home (sometimes spastically sedated, poor baby) and rush off for the day’s entertainment. Anyway, my point is, it was really quite a happening, never-a-boring-moment kind of existence and then I played the cruel joke upon myself of leaving all that behind to study here.

Now I’m sure lots of people have some really fun times in university here but it just so happened that mine was the only course on the planet that people actually did for the sake of the course itself and not for the sake of getting a stupid degree. The average age was 35 and the most scintillating conversation was about which website was more usable and which website was more community building oriented. There were some fun moments and a couple of smashed moments but mostly it was coursework, coursework and more coursework.

Work at least has been much better… I’m part of a band of merry boys and girls (average age of 23 which is just right) and we get each other through the monotony and drudgery that is corporate life by talking shit all day. And sometimes we hang out on a Friday evening but it’s pretty much a work life/personal life separation thing!

So outside of these two social avenues, there have been the people you meet somehow or the other and some of them are fun and some of them are not and some of them are fun only when drunk and some of them talk too much or don't talk at all. Well obviously, I am extremely choosy… how can I not be when my friends from school and college and Madras and even Bangalore are just some of the coolest people around! I’ve been spoiled with good company and now no one seems to meet those standards.

And as for family, well really, don’t knock ‘em. Its only when they’re not around, you realise how entertaining even they can be. And as for dogs, well I don’t want to start sobbing my heart out now, so I’ll save my dog tales for another day.

So the best thing out of all this is that S and I are as close as two people can be and have had to entertain each other for three years and we aren’t bored yet.

And I really believe that everything happens for a reason and my happening life will come back to me sometime soon.

It seems I’ve forgotten what I even started writing about. The host also asked if I felt that Australia had accepted me and I think I’ll save that can of worms for another day! Got really wasted that night with some people who came over. It was fun. Had a really lazy Saturday, got a haircut, shopped for miscellaneous items, oooh S bought me a pre-birthday gift – a pair of Levis, watched The Interpreter and Hostage on DVD – the first one was shit and the second one was ok! Yesterday I just slept and slept and slept and read a bit in between. Today I have my first gym session in about an hour and I’m really excited about it – you will be hearing much about my fitness regime in the days to come.

For me, the day I left Madras was like the day the music died. Because like American Pie was a semi-autobiographical journey from innocence to adulthood for Don Mclean, so was my life in Madras my journey from innocence into adulthood and one day it ended as all eras tend to and that was the day the music died.

A long long time ago
I can still remember how that music used to make me smile
And I knew if I had my chance that I could make those people dance
And maybe they’d be happy for a while

Invariably, the music that makes me smile always leads back to Madras. They have that saying ‘All roads lead to Rome’ because in those BC days, all roads did literally lead to Rome since they were the only ones building them. For me, all roads lead to Madras… what a name, what a place, what an era!

the Waiting was not In Vain

Its here… its here! My package from Mint Chutney.

Imagine my excitement to get home last evening and spot a bright pink, exciting looking package addressed to ME. I didn’t even take my coat off before ripping it open and out flowed tons of cute little, sweet smelling things. Let me list them all now:

Mint Mix CD – good stuff, been listening all day. Wont talk about the music anymore so as to not ruin the surprise for the rest of you expecting Mint Mix

Chicago T-shirt – I have a Chicago Hard Rock Café top and a Chicago shot glass and a Chicago mug but never had a Chicago t-shirt before

Chicago Postcard – by the way Mint, I visited the Shedd Aquarium this time around in Chicago. There was a very cute Beluga whale.

Magnets

Nail Kit

Fun pens, fun notepaper, bookmark, cell phone charm

Scented erasers

Keychain

Pocket Mirror

2006 Calendar (with cool vintage crate labels)

and my personal favourite:

Chiclets… tiny size Chiclets… flavoured coated gum Chiclets – I had really forgotten these even existed and I finished the whole packet in about 10 mins… kept popping more and more… it was damn yum and also quite nostalgic. Haven’t had Chiclets in years!



Thanks a lot Mint… was much appreciated… and as said before… the Waiting was not In Vain ;)

Ok, its been very long and I don’t really feel like *completing* the snowboarding saga. Just some quick bullet points on the rest:

• The Saturday afternoon was as tiring as the morning
• The instructor tried teaching us how to snowboard backwards although why she thought we would be able to do this when we could barely snowboard forwards, I don’t know. Suffice to say, I tried this twice and took two terrible tumbles and decided that I would stick with the forward henceforth
• The instructor also tried to get us on this strange thing called the Poma lift which pulls you upslope by you holding on to a cable attached to this circular thing. Now for skiers, it didn’t seem so bad… they held that circular thing between their legs and it just pulled them up very gracefully. For snowboarders, you hold it under your arm and what happens is the thing actually drags you but your snowboard still doesn’t move so your body gets pulled but your feet don’t move and guess what happens next… that’s right, you fall on your fucking face! Again, suffice to say, two attempts at this has turned me off “pomas” for life!
• The instructor made us feel very cool when she said ‘Now remember, snowboarding is an EXTREME sport’!
• The instructor taught us how to point our arms to change direction and slow down, etc. and much fun was made of my earnest Staying Alive attempts… all I can say is, it fucking worked!
• After the lesson (and a brief 4 pm snack which served as lunch) we bravely attempted the mountain again. This time, my pointing helped me have a really really good run for about 5 secs and of course I got very excited and thought, ‘Ha, there’s really nothing much to this snowboarding business’ and then of course, everything came crashing down as usual as I totally got confused about which arm to point in which direction. B, who watched the entire debacle from the ski lift had much to say about this to everyone else.
• Halfway down the mountain, I decided to quit for the day. By now my head was hurting so much, I felt sure some brain damage must have been sustained. So I unstrapped my feet and dragged the snowboard behind me much like taking my dog for a walk and wouldn’t you know it, I slipped even when off the snowboard as it somehow sneaked up under my feet. Next thing I know, I’m on my ass again and I’ve let go of the damn board and it goes hurtling down the mountain at breakneck speed. Everyone around yelled ‘Incoming’ and luckily no one got hit. So that was that…
• Sunday we tried skiing and that was slightly calmer. At least I could glide off the freaking lift without losing my balance and falling on my ass. But there were still moments… much easier to break a bone whilst skiing I feel… legs splayed in opposite directions, skis stuck in the snow, etc. etc. Anyway, managed to have a couple of successful runs (fell only once or twice) so there is hope yet… but I think I will give snowboarding another go when I do return to the snow.

And the beach is still my holiday destination of choice, but the snow makes a good winter getaway.

Last week, I went to Sydney twice on freaking work. The first time was on Monday morning, so that was a real blast… waking up at 5 am after two days of the most physical activity I’ve undertaken in many months… I could barely lift my laptop into the overhead compartment. The rest of the week was a blur and then I went to Sydney AGAIN on Friday morning. Whoever said corporate jet setting would be much fun and highly glamorous has got it all wrong. Its just tiring and boring and plays havoc with my ear pressure. I’ve now been to Sydney four times on work and still haven’t seen anything except the Opera House or done anything except eat at McDonald’s (Sydneysiders are not that keen on Subway, I’ve noticed – there are never any around)!

The pic below I took from my hotel room when I last stayed in Sydney a few months ago!



Ok, its Monday evening and I am forcing myself to go sign up at the gym next door. I have three months to get fit before Christmas and my visit to India where I can say ‘Up Yours’ to everyone who made fun of the weight I’d put on the last time I visited. Also, my tummy must be super toned for Neha’s wedding (of Neha C fame) as I am going to be one of her bridesmaids. Yay… I can’t wait (for the wedding, I mean, not the gym)!

Baptisms of Fire (on ice)

So here I am again… bruised and battered but still in one piece.

So there we were all together in my house on Friday afternoon… 6 snowboarding virgins (2 snow virgins even) and one ex ski instructor. The peace pipe was smoked as it always is at the start of a journey and we were off in two cars. The snow team included me, my boyfriend S, my housemate T, my friend R and her boyfriend K, S’s friend from work B and our friend V.

Roadtripping with my two favourite allies
Fully loaded, we got snacks and supplies



The drive was nice… for once we didn’t argue about the music and just listened to everything that played. And most of it was singable so quite naturally I didn’t shut up for six hours. I even found this CD that I recorded maybe 4 years ago when I first got a CD burner and it was full of songs I hadn’t heard in ages. You Are My Religion, for fuck’s sake and Unforgivable Sinner. I’d forgotten those songs even existed. And as always, I gazed out the window at the rolling hills and country towns and villages and thought of other trips I’ve taken in the past… trips that start out as this one did, with the smoking and the drinking and the driving and the laughing and the singing.

We saw many sheep along the way. Ah, rural Victoria, is there anything quite like it? Please excuse me, I think sheep are damn cute.



So anyway, many smoke breaks and toilet breaks and food breaks later, we caught a glimpse of some snow covered peaks.

These mist covered mountains
Are a home now for me
But my home is the lowlands
And always will be



We drove up the mountain (Mt Hotham, it was), taking corners at terrifying speeds as always… boys will be boys after all. Eventually, it was 9 pm by the time we had settled in and eaten dinner and started sipping our first drinks. By 10:30 pm, we were SMASHED!

To kick things off, we started playing Fuzzy Duck but I think everyone’s just become too damn good at it these days… fuck-ups are rare and few between. Fuzzy Duck is this highly entertaining drinking game which involves people saying Fuzzy Duck in a circle until someone says Does He. The direction is then reversed and the phrase changes to Ducky Fuzz. After a few drinks most people mess up and say things like Fuck He Does and Does He Fuck, and when you mess up, you slam a shot! So anyway, we’ve been playing this for a long time at my famous fruit punch shot nights but I’ll save those experiences for another day.

We gave up on Fuzzy Duck and started playing Dumb Charades. S, T and I were on one team against the other four and we were on a fucking roll, I kid you not. We’re not normally that great or anything but that night, we just had some kind of connection going and were guessing everything in about 10 seconds and the other team was just losing miserably. And sometimes the most obvious things are the hardest to guess… T was trying to charade a sounds like for ‘brass’ and acted smoking some ‘grass’. We got what he was trying to do alright, but S and I must’ve said every single other word we knew for it from ganga to Mary Jane and just completely missed the basic, first word I ever learnt in the whole business of smoking up. By the end of all this shouting and screaming, we were extremely smashed and decided to go hang outside in the snow.

The photo below was taken to capture my comic attempts at drinking my drink with my gloves on. It made for such a blogworthy pic though since it preserves my anonymity ;)



Outside in the snow we drank and took drunken photos on someone’s parked snowmobile and bonded with various other guests who also came out to hang in the snow and shared the love (the weed love, that is) and smoked many cigarettes (this was also terribly difficult with my gloves). All in all, it was a very fun night and we went to bed extremely late. The "single" boys were in a room full of bunk beds and it was much fun to climb up to the top bunk and pretend one was on the Brindavan Express.

Barely five hours later, we were rudely awoken by the bright morning sunlight. Apparently sunlight is always much brighter in snow towns because of the sun reflecting off the snow – I had not thought of this before!



We showered and dressed in many layers (at least I did, I don’t take chances with the cold) and drank much water to combat our hangovers and spent some time renting our gear. So on top of all my layers, I had a puffy snow jacket and waterproof ski pants, some horrendously heavy snowboard boots, and a very cumbersome snowboard. Thus armed, we set off for the slopes.

As mentioned before, B used to be a ski instructor and he was on skis while the rest of us were on snowboards and he was still able to give us some basic pointers on snowboarding. After about half an hour of gliding around on flat terrain, we became overly ambitious and decided to take the ski lift up one of the slopes even before we had our beginner’s lesson which was some time away.

The ski lift itself is obviously a terrifying experience on its own. I fell trying to get on it (you try getting to the lift from the gate on time with one foot strapped into your snowboard and the bloody seats don’t stop for long enough) and I fell getting off it (again, you try gliding off the lift with one foot strapped in and then having to get out of the way quickly before the next set of people get off it)!



Once I had regained my composure somewhat, the enormity of what we were attempting hit me and terrified me no end. We were at the top of a very tall slope… we couldn’t even see the home stretch, and we couldn’t even stand up on our boards without sliding off in the wrong direction or falling on our asses. If it had not been for B, who very patiently helped me up every time I fell, and who prevented me from falling every time I tried to stand up, and who tried to show me how to stand without sliding or falling, I would’ve surely slipped off the side of that mountain onto the hard road below.

So we attempted the long slide down the mountain. Every couple of feet, I would have a tremendous fall that rattled every single bone in my body. The fun part was that every single one of us was going through the same so once I fell I’d look around to see who was around me because surely one of them would be nearby, also on their ass. Some of their falls were incredibly funny to witness as I’m sure some of my falls were. Getting up (and staying up) after having fallen was certainly the hardest thing to do. And if anyone had told me that I would actually feel hot on a snow covered mountain in 4 degree Celsius temperature, I would’ve laughed scornfully at them. But it was hot and I actually began to regret my many layers because snowboarding is hard work, and the sun was beating down pretty fierce that day. So every time I fell, utterly and completely exhausted, I’d lie down on the soft, clean snow for a while and that was pure heaven. Halfway down the mountain, I completely lost my will to continue. I felt that I simply couldn’t lift myself up again. But more than the pain in my bum and my head, I felt I couldn’t take the heat and dehydration anymore and simply forced myself down the rest of the way, half boarding, half sliding and half falling. Phew… just recapping that all has made me slightly exhausted. Also the story is rather long for me to finish now… so, *to be continued*.

Oh, and if anyone wondered about the title of the post, that line from Brothers in Arms kept playing in my head over and over again as I struggled to snowboard. My fellow beginners were my brothers in arms, that long, tiring and yet extremely fulfilling day…

Through these fields of destruction
Baptisms of fire
I’ve witnessed your suffering
As the battles raged higher
And though they did hurt me so bad
In the fear and alarm
You did not desert me
My brothers in arms

A Day in the Life...

Firstly, thank you all so much... for the comments, the emails and the overall moral support and sympathy. With many of you, I don't even know your real names and it's really very touching to feel your sympathy and compassion across the bits and bytes in such a manner. And Rat and I were chatting on MSN yesterday and she said Appachen is slightly famous in blogworld now. I think he would've liked that :) So anyway, there ended an era...

I played hooky from work today. I wasn't really planning on it and I was even awake at 9:00 in the morning but something inside just cried for some time for myself. Time to think, time to be alone, time to mourn, time to just run errands that I'm always too hungover to run on the weekends...

So I called in sick and spent a rather luxurious morning on the couch watching Ferris Bueller's Day Off on my day off. Believe it or not, I've never watched that teenage classic before. How fucking cute is Matthew Broderick in it? When he was lip synching Twist & Shout at the parade (such a cute scene), I wished I had watched the movie in high school so I could've had a terriby desperate school girl's crush on him. Ah well...

After lunch (Nutella sandwiches) and a shower, I set off for a jaunt around the city. What I miss most about student life is walking around the city in the daytime. Of course, then, I had no money so I could only walk and look. And of course, now, I have no time to do anything. Today was a glorious winter's day. Bright sunshine and no wind, so just the tiniest little nip in the air and really a very pleasant day to walk about in. So I ran a couple of errands and then proceeded to the optometrist for a checkup. God has blessed me with the constitution of an ox but when it comes to my teeth and my eyes, He has always played a rather cruel game with me. Admittedly, I didn't help the situation much by eating chocolate all the time and not brushing twice a day or reading by candlelight when the power went out and never touching carrots, but still... So anyway, visits to the dentist and optometrist are always dreaded although my last visit to the dentist was pretty non-eventful very surprisingly. So anyway, I wear contact lenses and my eyes have been bothering me for a while now... a general irritation and soreness... and after putting my eyes through much torture (this includes those bloody alphabet tests, I HATE THEM, I'm always certain to fail the tiniest letters test) the optometrist says "You're not going to like me" and I'm thinking uh oh and ask "Why" and he's like "You need to stop wearing your lenses for a while. You have a Conjunctivitis allergy". So, I have to wear my horrible glasses continuously for a week or so. I haven't done that since age 14. My glasses don't look horrible but after wearing lenses all the time, going back to wearing glasses is so fucking uncomfortable. And what about when it rains? What then, HUH?? Ok, I'll stop throwing a tantrum like a small child now!

After the depressing visit to the optometrist and wearing my GLASSES instead of my sunglasses, I set off to get my eyebrows done. My regular place was booked out and I tried this tiny Wax & Nail place and the lady said all the professionals were busy so if I wouldn't mind getting it done by a student... I was slightly hesitant but really wanted to get them done so went ahead. So I lay on the bed and closed my eyes and heard much muttering in a foreign language from the two petite Asian "students" attending to my eyebrows. I was rather concerned that it was all going to go horribly wrong but by this point there was nothing I could do. On the whole, it turned out ok. Certainly could've done with more shaping but at least I still have two of them in reasonable shape.

Then I ate an ice-cream (Baskin Robbins Triple Choc... as I am also on weight loss mentality, shouldn't have but what the hell) and spent some time messaging this lazy Rat who informed me that she had taken sickie due to hangover. Tsk tsk... I wish I could've also taken sickie for such a fun reason!

Finally I went into Borders to buy some more books (also on the agenda for today was to join a library but didn't have time in the end)... I'm currently going through books at a highly frantic pace and really need to join a library to curb the spending on books. But I tell you, going into a bookstore for me is like a kid in a candy store or my boyfriend in an electronics store or car accessories store. And always I wish I could just take over the whole store. Oooh, I think maybe one day I should run a bookstore... it will make me very happy! Today I purchased a 4 book compilation of Agatha Christie Hercule Poirot mysteries.

Oh, also dashed into Church real quick. Outstanding Catholic (Catholic who never goes inside Church and always stands outside, joke from some jobless uncles of mine) that I am, its been a really long time and I felt the need as I frequently do when it's been more than a couple of months and also the need to pray for the departed soul of my grandfather and all that. The Church has installed these automatic doors and I was rather alarmed when they swung open almost in my face with a great loud creak... I totally missed the signs that said 'Automatic Doors opening outwards. Stay clear'! Anyway, they proved to be highly distracting with that loud creak even when you were inside the Church.

So now I am home again. Been chatting with Lavi who is making me all homesick for such items as roti and mattar paneer. All I have for dinner is puff pastry which serves as roti when made on the tawa and some rather suspect Dum Murgh I made last night. Well, Dum Murgh is what Sanjeev Kapoor calls it... he is my latest recipe book man... it is really just a glorified chicken curry and actually its not all that bad. Anyway, all this talk of food has made me rather hungry. The rest of my day will involve eating leftovers, watching the season finale of Lost and oooh, almost forgot, I need to pack. I'm heading off to the mountains tomorrow for a ski/snowboard weekend, not that I've ever attempted either. Been to the snow once before though... was quite a chill experience (pun intended)!! And on Monday I go to Sydney on work so I hope to be back in blogworld by Tuesday at the latest ;)