HIMYM - Read 'How The Show Got Massacred'

Never did I think I would rant about how a TV show ends. But hey, stranger things happen everyday.
To the creators of the show - Why would you do that to Ted Mosby? More importantly, why would you do that to us?
You make us wait for years. You name the show after the effing Mother and then you go and KILL her? I am majorly disappointed. And I did the Ted-Robin 'majorly disappointed' salute just now.

That's how much the show got to us.

The entire of the last season has been exasperating, just barely peppered with a few good moments. The only reason I kept watching it is just to obtain a sense of closure. It's like a car-wreck. You hate that it happened, but you can't look away.

And all the going back and forth between time lines, ADHD anyone? Ted going back to Robin is the worst idea ever. What do they think is going to happen? Robin will tour all over the world again, and Ted, being the incessant pain in the ass will get all whiny about it and then whine-dial Lily to complain. Thank God we don't have to watch that.
Also, he has just told his children that it is okay to sleep around, develop commitment issues, run away when you're uncomfortable, live like a doormat, shop till you are severely in debt and still expect the other person to stick around. If it's meant to be, all crappy behavior on your part is okay.  It is also okay to hook up with the other person if they do all this to you. That, I find masochistic.
Barney has a daughter, and goes all saint-like. After sleeping with 31 women in a month, no less. Someone then thought it was okay to have him call out the two girls in the bar, asking them to cover-up and call their parents. The same girls he took advantage of, over and over again. He seems to have forgotten those girls were somebody's daughters too. How about he call out the men picking up girls instead and teach them to treat women well? Also, New York seems to have blue french horns lying around, waiting to be bestowed upon emotionally unavailable, but needy women.

I know, I know. It is just a show.

It is, and I sat through ALL of it, hoping for a better ending. Honestly, though I didn't like the mother initially, I grew to like her. It is only natural that I get pissed off when she dies with no explanation. What is this mysterious illness you speak of?  Go talk to the writers of 'FRIENDS' before you end a show next time.

Now, here's what I liked about the end -

Lily and Marshall remained awesome.
I loved the little talk Ted and Tracy have under the yellow umbrella.
Robin's career finally takes off.
Ted seems totally okay with grey hair.

Yeah, that's it. Rest of the episode had me rolling my eyes for the most part. At the least, we can all now rest in peace and move on to the next overly-hyped TV show.

8 Ways To Ensure Your Colleagues Hate You.

This post is the result of pure exasperation and helplessness of having to deal with weirdos life has to offer.
I have been working in a corporate environment for the better part of my adult life. From the time I was eighteen, to be precise. Yes, friggin eighteen. That means I have also spent a good part of my life avoiding people because of the creepy vibes they give off, and that, ladies and germs, brings me to the first point.

1) Skunked!
Since we're talking about giving off vibes, here is something that You can give off too - odour. Nothing will make your colleague hate you more than body odour will. If you want to be left well alone or even better completely detoured around, don't shower. Of if you're one of those people that have to, since you sweat excessively, say goodbye to your deo.

2) The Blah.
If you're one of those people that can kind of feel themselves stinking and would rather shower each day, try the jabber mouth approach. Yes, be THAT person. Talk all day, everyday. You don't even have to make any sense. Infact, talk all about yourself, like how you got that brand new car, again. Or how your mom thinks you're the most adorable person or how girls cannot stop swooning over you, or how you kill that workout at the gym. Come on, your life is so exciting, every one deserves to hear all about it.

3) The-I'm-too-good-for-your-face approach.
If you find talking that exhausting, try the opposite approach. Don't talk at all, like each word out of your mouth is worth a dollar. If someone talks to you, give them a stiff smile, if you're feeling too generous, you could also nod. If you're a guy, this will ensure that you're left alone till kingdom come. If you're a girl, a few guys are gonna try twice or thrice. But nothing an icy stare can't fix, right?

4) Muckraker magic
Ensuring someone hates you is a tough job. You need to have a strategy carefully worked out. It might take a little effort initially, but sure is worth the effort. How about this? Find someone, possibly a chick, and get her talking, the more scandalous the information, the better. Best done in the ladies washroom, if you're a girl or a chat at the office pantry if you're a guy. Then, go to his/ her arch rival and leak this bit of information to him/ her. Get this person talking, since you've given them a juicy tidbit already and pass the new information around. Now sit back and watch your handiwork come to a full circle. Oh yeah, you're the office plague now.

5) Suck ups will rule the world!
Every office, every single one, has that one idiot that tries to be the boss's favorite person. While your boss might not really give a shit about you, pretending to be his/her little elf goes a long way. Carry her bag, or bring him home-cooked lunch. Pass on little nuggets about your co-workers. Betty-big-nose attended a job interview? The boss's gotta know. Mr.Goody-two-shoes was out drinking when he was supposed to be home sick, how about a picture of his drunk face on the boss's desk? You will be hated so much, the devil will sympathize with you.

6) I see you. No, I dont.
Try this - Establish eye contact. Now, slowly look away. Do not smile, do not nod, do not acknowledge. It's human to smile on eye contact and the poor bloke that you look at, will. You're messing with human expectations, gettit? This method requires the least effort, with maximum benefit. You are now the official corporate creep.

7) 'Cos you're feeling good
Intrude everyone's personal space. Be the touchy-feely slime bag. Pat women lightly on their hands, feel men up their back and shoulders. Make people want to back away when they see you coming. Be careful though, there's a good chance you might be thrown out for sexual harassment first.

8) Broke is my middle name
It's never good to pay for your food, right? The right time to get someone to pay for you is when they're ordering the food. Go "Hey, watchu ordering? I'm starving." or "Man, I haven't eaten all day". Make their obligation to order for you quite clear. Or simply join their table and start picking out their food while they eat. Nothing will make them hate you more.

If none of the above ideas work, admit it. You're an extremely likable person and you are doomed for life.

I have at some point met each of these characters in my professional life and have learnt excellent maneuvering skills. And believe me, these people in all reality do exist.

Making the world a better place, one weirdo at a time.


<< /end rant >>

I Am A Big Girl Now. I Think.

I've been gone so long. There is no excuse. Well there is - Life.
Life is my excuse.

That being said, I'm back. For the time being at least..

So much has happened over the last few months. I settled nicely into the new job. I even finished a whole year here. Looking at this post, I was pretty sure I'd have another job on my resume within weeks, no matter how optimistic that post sounded. But I stayed, so hooray!

But the point of this post is to note how far I've come. Besides, it's the end of another year, what else is there to do? The difference dawned on me when my organisation hired a bunch of trainees right out of college. I realized I was looking down my nose on them and was super annoyed by their enthusiasm. Yes, annoyed because they had so much energy. Maturity, not so much.

So I've decided to make a list of things that prove that I'm no longer the-little-girl-trying-to-act-grown-up but am rather quickly on my way to turning into an old hag.

1) I've gotten used to being comfortable. There was a time when I used to get fidgety in about 5 seconds, but now the boredom is just replaced with comfort in routine. Scary, I know.

2) Loud music hurts my head sometimes. My younger self would dance all day, everyday to any kind of music. But now, your's truly needs the following for enjoy herself at a night out - right kind of drinks, the right crowd, the right ambiance, the right lighting, the right music, the right company, the right DJ..you get the point right?

3) The ideal way to spend my evening would be with a ...hold your breath - A book.

You may now exhale.

4) I have absolutely NO time for anything. A massage, a sudden meeting with a friend, or any activity that is not planned a few weeks in advance. It's a straight up, simple 'no'. Any free time I have is spent as per point # 3 mentioned above.

5) I am perfectly alright spending the night in my jammies and a sweatshirt, cuddled up on the sofa, on a Saturday! There was a time when that horrified me. I would worry about my Saturday night plans starting right from Monday morning. Now I don't make my Saturday night plans, even on a Saturday. That being said, I am still dragged to parties and I'm constantly looking at my phone for an excuse to cop out of them.

6) Movies bore me. I've seen them all. Movie plots seem to repeat themselves in an endless loop and I couldn't be bothered to see if this one's any different.

7) Every time I see an early-20-something-somebody act cocky, I don't react. I just wait for them to trip on their own laces 'cos I know exactly what's coming at them next. I also realize this is how the world felt when I was an early-20-something-somebody. *insert smug look here*

8) I am excellent at make-up. Enough said.

9) 'Fun' is replaced by just being happy. I truly value the feeling of 'peace'. It's hard to come by and if it does, it doesn't last long.

10) And lastly, I have only a handful of people I call friends and family. Everyone else has simply been eliminated by vices.

All this boils down to one thing - I am happy. Not satisfed, but happy.

I'm still not okay with little girls calling me 'aunty'.Thankfully, no one has started to. Yet.

P.S. I still love shopping till I'm broke. I said I've grown up, not transitioned into a man. Lets not get carried away.

Hell's Chicken.

There are three kinds of people in this world.

The ones that see you're in shit and help you.
The ones that say 'fuck you' to your face.
And the ones make you think they're helping you but in reality just sitting on their plush behinds.

I had the immense privilege of experiencing the third kind recently. They hold the carrot right under your nose. They assure you in all ways that the job IS getting done. Some even go to the extent to asking you not to do anything that might jeopardize their efforts. Sneaky they are. The third kind.

Since I have had the pleasure of dealing with such a person recently, I found an effective way to deal with them. Gentle reminders don't work. Harsh reminders don't work. Following up doesn't work. Pretending to be pissed with them doesn't work either. Trust me, pretending to be pissed part works beautifully for me otherwise.
You either pull out a bigger carrot to hang it under their nose. Or you light a fire under their ass and let it burn. Carrots, brinjals and all.

Me being me, couldn't bother with the bigger carrot. So I went with the fire instead. Ah! The sight of burning balls...err...brinjals..err..carrots..I seem to have lost focus but you get the point.

Of course part of the lesson is that you don't go back to the same person for help again, no matter how much they want to pretend to be helping you.

Like they say, fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, you better pray for an extinguisher and run.




P.S. This post has nothing to do with it's title.

In Retrospect.

I've made quite a few drastic changes in my life. That includes, but is not limited to my job.

As I sat at my desk, pondering over yet another client's network that took the plunge, I thought to myself, "This job is no fun", when infact I spent the better part of last year, trying to get this job.

Of course, this job is no fun. It's 2 in the am and there's barely a soul at work.

People, I realized  are what mattered. You could be a deckhand for all you care, but the job is more fun if you had some nasty sailors to whom you can bitch about it.

Also, I realized belatedly, people are not easy to find if you change your job every year or so. And therein lies my problem.
Now that I've got that out, I'm going back to figure out why a perfectly good network decided to purge in a live production environment.

The incongruity of it all.

Stupid is as stupid does.

There is a moment, everyday when I think some people are better off if they simply remained eggs and never had a swimmer get to them. EVERY freaking day.

This other day I was sitting at a bakery and a bunch of college girls walked in. All of them carried these heavy duty smart phones.
Girl 1 : How come you don't use wifi?
Girl 2 (I am not kidding) : What to do...I don't have enough call balance on the phone.

*insert my incredulous expression here*
I choked on my coke and wanted to dunk the rest of it on her empty head.

At this point you must be thinking, 'They were both girls, what did you expect?' Hold on, hold on.

This old friend of mine pings me and half way through the convo..
Him : So what are you working as?
Me : I'm a Network Engineer.
Him : Is it a Call Center?

Wait, what?
Yeah, I quit my job, did a whole bunch of certifications for half a year just to show people the magic of  Internet Explorer. Which part of 'Network Engineer' did he not get?
I swear, had I been with him in person, I would have dug a hole, buried him and hopped a few times on it just to make sure he was good and dead.


This one's by far the most ridiculous one I was subject to. I was in this interview with his chubby guy in a blazer, who was a manager/ AVP/ VP something in this organisation. He asked me a question and I gave him a fairly straight forward answer.
He goes : I want details. I mean, do you dump ingredients directly in a pot when you cook or do you follow a recipe? I want the recipe.
My response?

I. Don't. Cook.

This guy just compared my professional skills to cooking, because I am a girl and I am married. Would he have asked the same question had it been a guy? Bloody stereotypes. 

One of these days, I'm gonna lose it and simply whack someone in the face.


P.S - I did end up getting that job.
P.P.S. - Not only do I cook, I am an excellent cook. Still, the guy got the point.

What the hell is wrong with Indian men?!

Ever since I was old enough to make my choices, (you know, selecting what chutney I want with my idli and what topping I wanted on my ice-cream) I was/ am the object of contempt/ chagrin to many a bald uncle and shiny saree adorned aunty because 'unorthodox' is written all over my name. Of course, I was the one to ask awkward questions, like openly pondering where babies came from or being the one to talk extra loud just because everyone was deeply meditating to an idol. I wouldn't go as far as to call it 'make-believe'. Imagine the kind of storm I'd kick up. Definitely not 'make-believe'. I'm thinking you'll get my point if I say 'make-believe' often enough. 'Make-believe'

Anyways.

My ranting today doesn't have anything to do with bald uncles and shiny aunties.
Picture this, you're at your new job, you're also the only girl in a roomful of guys ( remember those smart choices I was talking about?). Obviously, this doesn't bother you because you've been a neon sign-board all your life. There's a round of introduction and hand-shaking going on. The first guy comes around hand-shaking and you're next. One of these three things happen.

1. He awkwardly retracts his hand 'cos he's too shy/ conservative to shake your hand.
2. He skips you all together.
3. And this one's the worst, he bravely offers his hand, but NEVER all the way.

It's like half a handshake. Don't even talk about eye-contact. Me, being the neon board that I am, thrust my hand out all the way, and this guy grabs only the tips of my fingers and abruptly retracts his hand like I bit him. I wish I had.

You know what I feel like doing at this point?
Run in the opposite direction. Screaming.

Believe it or not, this has happened more times than I can count. No, not the screaming part.
Indian men either put a woman on a pedestal and bow before her, or treat her like a freaking commodity they own. What in the world happened to finding a balance? A stupid effing handshake doesn't amount to physical abuse. And no, we don't bite.

India is a land of many exotic wonders. Indian men, darling, for most part are not one of them*.


*None of this includes my husband. Teeheee! He's adorable. Really.

Of Misters And The Methanol

You know, if I weren't married, I'd probably be that girl bitching about how all my friends are married.

I mean, what is it with women and the need to belong anyway? Half the women I know are married just because the other half are. And the ones that aren't, are usually are getting drunk and cheering in bars because they really have nothing to cheer about.

I'm sorry, was that offensive?

Good.

Oh and the string of destructive boyfriends! I asked this particular friend of mine who had a jerk for a boyfriend about why she puts up with his non-sense. Seriously, this guy left her stranded in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night! Without batting an eyelid, she says, "I love him, we even went to this wedding together."
Really. That's what you're going with? Come on. Come on!

I know I sound silly and oxy-moronic that I'm married and I'm bitching about women that are getting married thinking this is what I'd do if I weren't married but I'm not. Silly that is. I am oxy-moronic.

My head hurts too.

Wait, I know I had a point in there somewhere.
The point is, ladies, don't settle. Don't put up with shit, in the name of love and other non-sense.

If you've been reading so far looking for a profound ending, congratulations. You've only ended up with barf post all the methanol.
Ew.
I did not need that picture in my head before I went to bed. On that note, bon nuit.

P.S. - Note that I've labelled 'cancer' on this post. Yes, it is that bad.
P.P.S. - I'm also that lazy to look up the correct spelling for 'bon nuit'.

Taedium Vitae *sigh*

So I walked into the kitchen today and was immediately assaulted by this strong smell of guava and camphor. Weird.
Guess what it really was -

Guava and Camphor.

Imagine my surprise.
Yes, I am the genius that states the obvious.

*Lame rant ends*