And because you know who you are...
I miss girls' night. Who would've thunk?
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
Wednesday, December 02, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Friday, August 28, 2009
Monday, August 03, 2009
The last 48
One of the reasons why I started blogging was the need to get away from everything that was happening in my life - the break-up, the resultant loss of a best friend, the loneliness - and I did that by writing humorously about inconsequential things in my doped-up, hazy life.
One of the reasons I have stopped blogging is because now I can tackle whatever is happening in my life by talking about it with DD, instead of pretending it isn't happening and lighting a cigarette. [Gosh, cigarettes. I'm going to miss you. Downside of living with a sensible man. Pah.]
In about 45 hours I'll be at the airport, contending with a knot in my throat, and an obsessive-compulsive propensity to blink.
It's hardest dealing with the faces. So I'm trying to think of mishaps. Like my suitcase crashing itself open and pet bottles of home-made gorom moshla raining on customs officers. Or being held back at Singapore for carrying a suspiciously large quantity of underwear. Or being punished by God for placing my Toulouse-Lautrec print over a packet of shoes.
Which reminds me: thanks be to my friends for giving me thoughtful and fabulous gifts, all of which I am taking with me!
When I'm in pain [waxing, stitches, rage], I keep muttering to myself, "Think about childbirth. This is easier. This is a breeze. Think about waiting to dilate to 10cm." Possible factual inaccuracies regarding childbirth aside, it works. I can steel myself. Not working now, though.
Is anybody praying?
One of the reasons I have stopped blogging is because now I can tackle whatever is happening in my life by talking about it with DD, instead of pretending it isn't happening and lighting a cigarette. [Gosh, cigarettes. I'm going to miss you. Downside of living with a sensible man. Pah.]
In about 45 hours I'll be at the airport, contending with a knot in my throat, and an obsessive-compulsive propensity to blink.
It's hardest dealing with the faces. So I'm trying to think of mishaps. Like my suitcase crashing itself open and pet bottles of home-made gorom moshla raining on customs officers. Or being held back at Singapore for carrying a suspiciously large quantity of underwear. Or being punished by God for placing my Toulouse-Lautrec print over a packet of shoes.
Which reminds me: thanks be to my friends for giving me thoughtful and fabulous gifts, all of which I am taking with me!
When I'm in pain [waxing, stitches, rage], I keep muttering to myself, "Think about childbirth. This is easier. This is a breeze. Think about waiting to dilate to 10cm." Possible factual inaccuracies regarding childbirth aside, it works. I can steel myself. Not working now, though.
Is anybody praying?
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Educating Rb_P
Me: I'm going to do a Ph.D. in theatre.
British-Indian aunt: A what?
Me: Uhm. A doctoral degree in drama?
B-I A (Confusion. Discombobulation. Total befuddlement.) : Well, I've never heard that one before!
Ladies and gentlemen, that which I call life.
British-Indian aunt: A what?
Me: Uhm. A doctoral degree in drama?
B-I A (Confusion. Discombobulation. Total befuddlement.) : Well, I've never heard that one before!
Ladies and gentlemen, that which I call life.
Thursday, January 01, 2009
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