Retail Therapy *exclamation mark*

The whole of 2012, for me, went in a struggle. I got married, which you probably knew and is probably the only good thing that happened. But then, I also quit working, since I wanted to do something better. "Acquire a skillset", were my exact words. Pleebhhhh.

I was always a compulsive shopper. I shopped half my income, though I did manage to save quite a bit. I'm still not sure how I achieved that. But yes, I shopped a LOT!

So when I quit working, being the independent psychopath that I always was, I completely cut down on my expenses. No compulsive shopping, no shopping. Period. My logic was simple. If you don't earn, you don't get to spend.

Seriously, this independence thing is gonna kill me some day,I should learn how to leech off from people more. It wasn't just about buying things, I ended up making very serious lifestyle changes. I almost didn't think I would survive.

So, now that I finished my courses and found a better job and everything, it took me a while to get into the groove. The first couple of months were recovery months. Trying to clear the dues I had, and then some. And then, for the first time, I had the guts to spend on myself again.

I tell you, what shopping is to a woman, is like what sex is to a man. Or close enough.

I felt like I downed some good quality, really awesome shrooms. I bought like a whoole bunch of clothes. Then I went nuts in The Body Shop. I bought this, though I already have one of these. And this and this. And a ton of their make up brushes. Oh and this as well. There were more, but blahh.

So, anyways, I realized what I had forgotten all these months. 

As a favor to mankind, to all the guys reading, I say this -  No matter what your woman says, if you want her to be happy and lay off your hide, retail therapy is mandatory. Once a month, at least.

And that's the truth my friend.

P.S. - I used 'exclamation mark' in the title instead of '!', 'cos the real thing is too peppy for me. Yeah, like that makes sense.

And then, cognizance dawned

Three non-consequential things have happened this month. And because all things non-consequential need to be apprised to the world, I am going to do just that.

So, firstly, I watched Les Miserables.

Les Miserables, like all musicals was good. Very good. Though I did see quite a few guys walk out because they couldn't take so much, how should I put this..drama? And probably because watching fully grown men singing things, instead of just saying them might have threatened their own manhood. It was a perfect Sunday night movie and though hubby said he hated it, I'm thinking he secretly liked it. Don't tell him I said that.
Of course, I think the next few days we're going say all our sentences in a song. I realized things like 'I just woke up and I want you to make teaaaaa' sounded much better in a loud, tune-less sing song voice. And of course, like they say, my voice could be much worse than my problems.

Coming to the next point, I think my husband has mastered the art of managing women. I was watching 'The Mentalist' with my better half reluctantly perched on the sofa, when I saw Patrick Jane vocally admiring the tea he was given. "Clove and honey..mmmm...delicious", he said. And then, I had this sudden urge to drink clove and honey tea. Because I had both honey and clove at hand, I went and made some. I loved it. I did offer a nice cupful to the better half of mine who drank it wordlessly.
The next day, when it was my turn to make tea, "Honey and clove?", I asked, excitedly.

"It's ummm..too exotic.", said the husband, with a contrite look on his face.

Nice save, mister.

Lastly, I spent the last one year trying to whip my body cycle into that of a normal person. But it wouldn't have any of it. I spent sleepless mornings, awake as a dying frog, trying to force myself to sleep at night. And then, sometime in December last year, I turned into a diurnal person, doing a regular 9 to 6 work shifts. As luck would have it, I've been thrown again into night shifts and I was thinking my body would go into a roller-coaster ride again, trying to adjust.

Not.

I was awake as a baby on steroids on my first night in shift.
People have, for years, been terrified of waking me up early in the morning 'cos I'm such a joy and take pleasure in biting their heads off when they do. It all makes sense now. I realized I never was and never will be a morning person

God Bless the Queen. And King. And everybody else.

Bloody Sparkling Confetti - Part 2

It's 2013 now. Everywhere I turn there are happy, shiny, positive blogs, vlogs and videos. Here I am thinking another year bites the dust and the world is not better off because of it.
The year ended on such a depressing, angry note. I am surprised there are people in our country that still wanted to celebrate, in spite of all that happened. This made me realise two things.

People are selfish and they forget.
A new year doesn't mean a damn thing.

How many times have you stopped at the scene of an accident/ atrocity/ injustice and actually helped instead of simply standing there and gawking? I'll be honest here. I never stop to gawk and sometimes( and I only mean sometimes) I stop to help. If I think it's within my capacity. I have strong feelings of outrage and more often than not, I try to do things the right way. Sadly, I can't say this of everyone I know.
Even till this day, the chai wallah gives me a once over. So does the auto wallah and every human at work that boasts of a phallus. So, nothing's changed in that regard.

I feel extremely morbid. There's no light at the end of the tunnel. It's just a long winding tunnel that gets darker every second. The light you see is probably some prick holding a rod to knock you out.

We are the same people, with the same jobs and the same lives. What's to celebrate? It's just a reason for people to booze, enterprises to earn money and businesses to make fools out of the gullible.

It's been a while since I saw a genuinely nice gesture from another human. Something like this.
This NEVER happens. Humanity as we know it, is dead..or dying. Same difference.

As for me, I spent New Year's at home. With family and friends. I slept shortly after the clock struck 12.
I woke up on the 1st and went to work.
I can only hope this world starts to become a better place this year. You know how all the beauty pageant contestants ask for "world peace" when they win the crown or something? It sounds so shallow when we hear it, but I get that now. From the bottom of my heart, that's all I want this year.

Peace.

Dear Mayans,

I just have one thing to say.

IN YOUR FACE.

*singing Everybody Dance Now in King Julian's voice*

Regards,
Me.

Blind Woman's Bluff - Kiddie Wars

You know those people that look at you in irritation when your kids are trampling around the mall in their squeaky shoes? I am one of them.

I really have nothing against kids (I find they are adorable in spite of the mass destruction they cause); I totally have it against parents that can't control their wards. Every time I decide to have a meal in peace, even breakfast for heavens sake, there is a huge family that walks in. Four uncles, four aunties, one- two difficult teenage girls and at least four kids out of which three take it on themselves to kick the waiter in his shins and drop all the forks. The last one simply sits there bawling his lungs out.

*massaging my headache*

I make it my business to stay away from noisy kids. (I know, I know. How far can I run, right?)
To my enormous surprise, turns out I'm actually good with them, one at a time that is.

This other day,we went to a cousins house who had a 4-5 year old boy. He's the kind that beat up your kid and is responsible for all the bite marks on the other boys. If you have the audacity to ask why he bites other boys, his nonchalant response would be, 'Becuzz my teeths are sharrp'.
For the un-initiated, I am a Telugu, married to a Tamilain..so I understand a select few words of the language.

I knew I had to break the ice or I'd forever be that chitthi* that never talks. Believe me when I tell you, the four year old gave me the attitude only deserving of the Prince of Prussia. I tried making friends with him for a good one hour and the bugger refused to even look at my face. Then he stopped being adamant and turned shy instead.
So I changed tactics. I ignored him. I mean, I looked at him and then turned away with an amused smile on my face. Slowly, he got his face out of the pillow and got out of his bed. Then he went and hid behind the door, peeping whenever he heard me speaking to his mom. After about 20 minutes of this, he sneaked up to me, hit my hand, yelled 'hallo' and promptly ran away.
His mom looked at me and she's like, 'He's not a shy kid, wtf is wrong with him?'

After about another hour, he figured I don't bite and came up to me. He grabbed my hand and he goes, 'I have soooo many toys, you can play if you want'. I know this is a total drawn out 'awwww' moment but by now I'm exhausted trying to figure out this kid.
I went with the flow instead and by the end of the evening we became such great friends that he decided he'd abandon his parents.
He dad asked him , 'Who's party are you on? Mummy party or daddy party'.
He's like, 'Illa, chitthi party'.**

Buhahahaha!



*chitthi = aunt
**'Illa, chitti party' - 'No, aunt's party.'

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.