Courtesy of Starf#&ks…

This little tidbit graced my venti 1% vanilla latte making it as profound a vehicle as Deepak Chopra or his pen pals.

The Way I see it #63
Our lives are inspired by the dreams we have from the earliest stages of our youth. When you combine passion and hard work, then success is always possible. While no road is ever straight, dedication and persistence will always lead you to your dreams.

Come On! – On my cup? I realize that advertising is powerful – I mean, you don’t have to preach to the converted. But on a cup? At just after 6am? I’m all for a little bit of inspiring self-talk now and again, heck – I even indulge in it myself (in front of a mirror in the comfort of my blazing orange room) – but corporate inspiration? Can Starbucks get more contrived than this?

No doubt, this is a piece of well-crafted marketing jargon to once again identify with the intellectually-rebellious, spiritually-grounded target group, that most of us happen to find ourselves in. But really, what’s next? Motivational messages on our TTC transfers?

Maybe I’m just having an easily irritable day – if that’s the case – pray for me folks – because today promises to be chaotic.

--

In other news – I also found out that while fear of failure is a popular hurdle to jump – fear of accomplishment is quickly catching up. So guess what – I’m the oxymoron that’s stuck in this catch 22 – yay me.

To love..

is to leave oneself open to pain.

Romantic or otherwise, the conclusion is crystal: every love ends in tragedy, because one of the lovers must die. That's Hemingway paraphrased.
Smart man. Knew much. Spoke less. And somehow, captured life beautifully.

--::--
tonight, it plagues me because I've got mortality on my mind and lead for feet. It keeps playing the same ole broken record - over and over and over again.
--::--

fear.what else is new?
fades to black.

Cringe-worthy

When the walls that surround your world, start to close in - that's when you realize the importance of the intangible that guides reason. Today, i hope that I find this elusive bird that brings peace on its wings.


Faith is the bird that feels the light when the dawn is still dark.
--Rabindranath Tagore

I know...I wish...I hope

inspired by lil niki whose got a surprisingly big heart!
--::--

I Live: in Toronto, Canada (land of the losing jays & phallic monuments)

I Work: in Corporate Communications – my creativity hasn’t quite left the building yet.

I Talk: non-freakin-stop

I Wish: for pure bliss to envelope the ones I adore.

I Enjoy: being loved.

I Look: like a little teapot – short and stout – (scary? Rama actually sang it – that’s scarier)

I'm sure: that there’s someone up there rooting for all of us.

I Find: that I’m still nursing the remnants of my vain and superficial past.

I Smell: like I’m Live, and charged. (bad puns aside: usually I smell like coco butter)

I Listen: to my dad secretly. I’d hate for him to think that I ‘follow’ his words ;)

I Hide: my insecurities quite well. Unfortunately, that’s all I seem to be able to hide.

I Pray: more than I thought I ever would in my youth.

I Walk: because nobody will carry me. I remember a time when walking was fun.

I Write: almost as much as I breathe.

I See: with my heart more than my eyes.

I Sing: off key – any and every chance I get.

I Laugh: and sometimes, even snort.

I love: my books and shoes. Oh and sometimes, my friends and family ;)

I can: make myself believe ANYTHING. (scary innit?)

I Watch: what I say to certain people – because the truth is hard to handle.

I Learn: on a daily basis just by being alive.

I Dream: more than one person should – and morosely, my dreams evolve.

I Want: to be the Brain. Any takers for Pinky?

I Cry: too freakin much these days – I think im menopausing or something.

I Burn: myself by loving too much, too fast, too often.

I Read: and worship the written word – in any avatar.

I Sometimes: wish I could change everything for the one’s I love. Most times, I just wish I had a Cadbury cream egg.

I Touch: because my fingers are rebellious as my cerebrum is.

I Hurt: when the one’s I love don’t love me as much.

I Fear: failure. Without a doubt.

I Hope: that my sisters experience the bliss that I chase so single-mindedly.

I Break: people’s hearts unwittingly. I used to always get accused of that in my youth.

I Eat: more than I should but less than I can.

I Quit: where should I start? Guitar, piano, the gym, smoking, optimism – all of em – gone.

I Bathe: Who has the time for that? I shower like a rockstar.

I Drink: copious amounts of caffiene and water.

I Save: words in the crevices of my mind. And sometimes, it’s the evil things that people say.

I Hug: the ones that need it the most. I used to be touch-phobic when I was little. Now, it’s quite the opposite.

I Meditate: more than I did in previous lifetimes.

I Play: this game of hide and seek with my dreams.

I Miss: my grandma and the innocence of walking barefeet alongside rail tracks in Colombo.

I Hold: the ones I love close to my heart.

I Forgive: but I never forget.

I Drive: an Antelope. No, no – I wish I drove an Antelope. I drive a civic – see how sometimes the truth - sucks?!

I Have: nothing that I will take with me when I leave.

I Don't: understand people without manners or dreams.

I Made: my sisters do everything for me when they were young. Now, they’ve flipped the script on my behind!

I Kiss: the ground at the temple and the cheeks of many in my life.

I Believe: that some of us are blessed enough to radiate nothing but goodness - I'm blessed to know many such people.

I Owe: so much to everyone for so many things. I’ve stopped counting and hopefully, they have too.

I Feel: like a one-winged bird sometimes but then I look across the room and realize that I come from a strong flock of air-defenders.

I Know: that this life is too short for regrets and too long to give up the things that bring you joy.

--
And my own additions:

I chew: each mouthful, carefully.
I will: make a difference in someone's life by writing something profound- one day.
I am: the answer to many of the questions that plague me.
I remember: the kindness of strangers and the thoughtfulness of those I love.
I'm grateful: for being alive.

--
that's all folks.
have a safe and happy weekend.

I heart....

(keeping with the spirit of St.Valentine...here is my Feb 14 06 list of things/people I'm feelin' in no particular order...)

early morning bus rides....vivid orange gerberas...raspberry chocolate coffee....Rama's ceaseless 4am alarm....Rama...my comforter....elepoo....the moment fire touches thiri in our pooja room...Amma at 5am...sunshine...the smell of sunlight on my clothes...Appa when he's grumpy...Rashmi when she's not...seedless cucumbers...big ole sunkist oranges...Tridents Vanilla-Mint Splash...laying on mikeys arm...the smell of sweat on sparks...Rammy's crazy laugh...Fallen by Sarah...old friends...Second Cup dates...a long romantic date with java and a book...orange bedrooms and work spaces...Trixie chasing her own tail...friends who are more like family...phone calls that connect the divide...blogs that motivate...flogs that reaffirm life's goodness...friends i've never met...friends i need to meet more often...cradling pudgy rakshaa...wedding emails from Mich...orange waterbottles...blistex...black pens…yogurt...to do lists (though they never get done)...mikey (annoyed or otherwise)...Verdana in a 10pt size...the smell of musky books...SJP in SATC...girlfriends to giggle with...laughter ( i need more of this)...coming up with excuses for not working out...all night dates...long conversations...pomegranates…stories (bed time or not)...presents...David sedaris...taking pictures of everything...Winners...waking up every morning...milk hoppers...motivational e-mails...being so blessed...brown people…things that sparkle...my iPod...coming home...me.

The alphabet

the way it should've been written.

--::--

A is for Age:
25…but I’ve celebrated that anniversary three times ;)

B is for Booze of choice:
Vodka preferably mixed with some cranberryesque

C is for Career:
Well C should be for change because that’s pretty much defined my career so far – the only constant is the written word.

D is for your Dog's name:
Sparky..plung…pulee…my hyperactive lil crap-factory

E is for Essential items you use every day:
cell phone, blistex, iPod

F is for Favorite song at the moment:
Collide – Howie Day (don’t laugh..i could be mushy)

G is for favorite Games:
Scrabble

H is for Hometown:
Toronto, Ontario

I is for Instruments you play:
Guitar at 7 – got one, then quit. Piano in my teens – then quit. Flute for a semester.

J is for Jam or Jelly you like:
Raspberry chunks…yummmers…no sugar added of course.

K is for Kids:
Maybe later – thanks.

L is for Last kiss:
Mikey (urgh, the bane of being in a long term relationship is never having multiple last kisses)

M is for Most admired trait:
flirtatiousness….huh! and that was from Rama – so…guess I don’t really have a most admired trait (note to self: get one pronto)

Most admired by others:
my intelligence (hehe) – okay fine, I guess they’d think I’m quite gregarious.

N is for Name of your crush:
Do girls count ?
D’Angelo….but, only in that one video – ladies, you know the one I’m referring to.

O is for Overnight hospital stays:
a couple times…but I just stuck around for the really bad coffee 


P is for phobias:
failure, failure and more failure – not just a phobia but a paralyzing fear. That and amounting to nothing.

Q is for quotes you like:
If you think you can – you can. If you think you can’t – you probably won’t.

R is for biggest Regret:
I should’ve slept more in my youth – especially during university – I’m starting to feel the lack of sleep catching up.

S is for Sweets of your choice:
Umm..where should I begin and how many days do you have? Unfortunately, I’ve been cut off.

T is for Time you wake up:
5:00am

U is for Underwear:
all the time, thank you.

V is for Vegetable you love:
corn on the cob, broccoli, eggplant, okra, spinach & daal

W is for Worst Habit:
expecting the worst, procrastinating

X is for X-rays you've had:
atleast 4 or 5

Y is for Yummy food you make:
Good butter chicken, a mean lasagna and the best: a really yummy cup of joe!

Z is for Zodiac sign:
Cusp: libra/scorpio. If you ask a tamil astrologer – I’m a pisces. GO figure
--::--

strangely, this exercise was a moment of introspection.
woah. i think i need a hug.

Blessed Fours

courtesy of sibil.

And Niki - who tagged me. When I wasn't looking - my apologies honey - next time I will practice some much needed mindfulness.

--::--
Four jobs I have had: (oy vey, where do i start)

1. Chuck E Cheese: Hostess which was fun and games until I was forced into Chuck's slimy suit on one ill fated day - i learnt this: kids can be mean spirited brats.

2. RA during my university days for a crotchety old music professor who while a musical genius couldn't stay on top of his research for shiiit.

3. Wedding Events Coordinator : for a local catering company. My first encounter with bridezilla's - probably also the reason I have issues concerning planning my own wedding.

4. Copywhore for an ad agency - looooved it, adored it, ate, drank, lived, shat, breathed it until i woke up and realized it was slowly but surely killing me :(


Four movies I could watch over and over:

1. Sound of Music (don't laugh)
2. Love Jones (when i believed i was the next big thing in spoken word)
3. Kannathil Mutham Ittal (an expose on the atrocities that befell tamil folk in SL)
4. 2-way tie- Garden State/Sideways

Four places I've lived :

1. Colombo, Sri Lanka
2. Malaysia
3. London, Englad
4. Toronto, Canada (since four is the limit on this thing)

Four TV shows I love to watch:

1. Sex and the City (over and over and over again)
2. Project Runway (im such a fashion-whore)
3. Will & Grace ( old school all the way)
4. 2 way tie: Everybody hates Chris/ Family Guy

Four places I've been on vacation (in loosely translated terms):

1. India - nothing beats the heat and the raw bustle of life.
2. London, England (minus the perpetual visiting of relatives)
3. Montreal, QC (still love it regardless of how domestic it seems)
4. NYC, New York

Four of my favorite foods:

1. Roti and butter chicken
2. Sushi/sashimi/endamme
3. Cadbury cream eggs (what? they were a food group at one time)
4. All things sea foody - cuttlefish/crab/salmon/shark/lobster...yum.

Four places I'd rather be right now (also, preferrably alone or with Rama):

1. Ooty, Coonoor - life was easy piecy there
2. NY - overlooking central park
3. London - getting lost in bustling crowds
4. Colombo - sunshine, waves, white sand, a world of culture wafting through

Four sites I visit daily:

1. Google
2. Rogers
3. Blog/Floglines
4. Frugal Bride (okay almost every other day)


Four peeps I am tagging:

1. Pri-pri (she fascinates me)
2. Bears (cuz why not!)
3. Taby (cuz I'd love to know more)
4. Chet (i still don't know too much about him - but im sure he won't touch this with a 10 ft pole)

-::-

that's all folks.

Succinct

and just plain pithy.

sorry folks - this entry is sans pretty words, thought-provoking concepts or paradigm shifting ideologies...heck, it doesn't even contain the regular jana-ridden rant. This entry is merely a glorified thank you.

--:::--

A huge fan of grossly textured words, I am thrilled to drop some much needed literal screaming on this page. Rarely does it see oodles of joy and today, I want to congratulate it for keeping me sane.

You see, having to be accountable to myself in writing was most definitely a motivator in finding a job. Yup, notice how I slipped that in. I am (insert drumroll here) gainfully employed. Well, I will be gainfully employed as of Wednesday.

Maybe those pesky little disappointments that helped me ring the new year in were just humps of bad fortune I had to surf through – and while it was hard as hell, I am definitely grateful for having had the opportunity to nurture my elephantine skin.

So blog – I propose to continue using, abusing and leaving my mark upon you as often and as much as possible. Perhaps you will be that much needed companion as I crawl through planning weddings and planning forevers. Or perhaps that personal trainer who’ll undoubtedly kick my butt by wielding the threat of coming embarrassments.

Either way, you’ll be around and present which is yet another thing, I’m thankful for.

---:::---

Amen to the written word.

Prepare yourself..

for honey pots and saccharine words. Enchanted forests and friends who don't stray too far. Today, i'm feeling a little like a yellow cuddly trooper and a lot less like the underdog.

word to the wise:stop reading and turn away right now if you find Pooh and his friends nauseating - because today I'm basking in 'The wisdom of the Pooh'.

--:::--

Dedicated to my dear good friend Rama because nothing could be truer than this sentiment:

"If you live to be 100, I hope to live to be 100 minus 1 day so i never have to live without you". - Pooh (no duh)

--:::--

Dedicated to the me that hides behind the bravado:

"Remember: You're braver than you believe. Stronger than you seem. And Smarter than you think". - Christopher Robin-Winnie the Pooh

--::--
I suppose all will not be right in the world of dedications if this one didn't go out to my most favorite stranger (mikes):

Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind.
"Pooh," he whispered.
"Yes, Piglet?"
"Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw, "I just wanted to be sure of you."”

--::--

And of course to my fam - this one is perrrfect because regardless of what Im doing, THIS is what i'm thinking:

“"I wonder what Piglet is doing," thought Pooh.
"I wish I were there to be doing it, too."
- Winnie the Pooh”

--::--

*sigh*

"Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day.”
Pooh is right. For a bear with little brain he speaks big truths.

--::--
I too, as will all of you, get there some day :)

Crazy in love...

or just plain crazy?

somehow - today feels like the latter.

--:::---
A sweetly melodic voice, amidst the collective noise of the everyday, infiltrates my childhood memories. It haunts me. I was never one for fairytale romances or traditionalist affairs - and yet, before I waltzed into adulthood, I too was privy to the thoughts of lil’ girls as explained by big ones.

‘Sugar and spice and everything nice’ – that’s how it all began. Those were the magic words that flung open a Pandora’s box of estrogenized dreams.

Helllooo pink ribbons and frilly frocks.

It was something my grandma used to constantly say while chunky little me hid behind headboards, on balcony’s and voraciously devoured inappropriate reading material. I think I was 4 when i cracked open my first harlequin (my Lit professor of a grandmother was quite the fan of verbal naughtiness) and while I didn't quite grasp the literal translations...i got the gist.

There was something that these girls made of sugar and spice and everything nice looked forward to as they aged - gracefully or otherwise. An inexplicable feeling that involved another person – another person preferably of the opposite sex. Bedtime stories of white knights and happily ever afters ended as I trod into the world of adult romance. And she used to reassure me that one day - he would arrive – my version of a knight on a brazen horse- and I would be crazy in love.

Quite frankly, I thought her to be quite crazy.

Crazy in love? Or crazy because of love?
Gosh, what did that mean to a five year old?
What did that even mean to a 52 year old? A woman who had created her romantic fantasies in her cerebrum while living a poor imitation of them in her reality. I couldn't project at 5. I didn't realize that once upon a time ( a long long long time ago ) she too was much like me. Young, hungry and unaffected by this thing called love.

Ahh...to be but on that plump lap bouncing with joy to the cadence of sunsets in sri lanka. I would give an arm, a leg and possibly half a torso to relive those moments. Perfection. Ironic isn't it? I barely knew what perfection meant and I was living it. These days, these days are a far cry from those yesteryears - where life was simple, easy and pure as newborn pudgesicles.

--
why the reminiscing? today for the first time, i sat down all by my lonesome to embark on those first steps towards planning a multi-cultural, bi-religious, dual-ethnic wedding. A wedding that would have painted joy in autumn colours on my grandma's face.

I look like her you know. R looks like mom. And lil R looks like my dads mom. But only I - of all our cousins made of the same dirt - only I resemble her. Just me. One in a sea of 6, in an ocean of countless faces - i look in the mirror and i see her. Yet, I can't even remember what she'd want for my wedding. And this pains me to no end. Searching for something more profound, I'm trying to turn back the hands of my memories but sadly to no avail.

It feels incomplete. Today, I felt incomplete. I missed her. I missed her hand stroking my hair, urging me to knot the end of her dupatta, reminding me to make a wish as the sun set, reveling in my newest imaginary adventure and assuring me that one day - prince charming will arrive - even for rambunctious me.

Funny, guess the memo didn’t make it all the way to adulthood. Perhaps we should’ve made the same wish with an identical knot at every sun set. Because sure - Prince charming came. And left. Then his brother rolled by. Followed by cousins, distant relatives, friends, acquaintances and heck, even neighbors. And yet - all those experiments and not one of them were ‘for me’. I seem to have sampled everyone’s prince charming and still hadn’t stumbled on the one earmarked with a ‘j’.

Except for this one guy that I initially didn’t even fathom in that capacity.

I wish she had met Mikey. I wish she had gotten a chance to read him by first glance. To have looked him up and down and assessed his self worth and his intentions by a simple smile. I wish she could tell me what I should be looking out for, educating me as I embark on this process, and making sure that I don't discount any traditions - cultural or familial.

My folks are waaay too easy going. I know, I’m a nutcase for complaining. But honestly, they don't care about rusty ole traditions that creek in annoyance and disturb the peace. They're trying not to be intrusive. Trying to let me garnish this wedding with my own personality...and honestly, i hate it.

I wish they would storm in and tell me what needs to be done (fear. sloth. or both?)She would've. The one who introduced me to words, who taught me how to extend my own boundaries, to have opinions and voice them as such - she wouldn't have watched out for my contemporary visions or feelings. Straight or sugar coated : that was her motto – if it was the latter, you were shit out of luck because even her sugar came with a tinge of screw face inducing sour.

And today i needed that. I needed someone who had a vision in their minds eye - i needed her jasmine scented skin comfortably resting on mine.

--
this post probably makes no sense at all to the average person - my apologies. it was waiting to be purged - unedited, unrevised, uncrafted. While it shames the writer in me – this nervously twitching rhetoric calms my irrational fear of the unknown. A whole lot of question marks exist between these lines and breathe between the spaces of these words.

Periods don’t just end sentences they act as springboards for new ones. Sleep is a necessity and perhaps with it – tranquility will arrive. Neatly packaged and organized. I pray for it to take the place of illogically placed thoughts born of childhood logic - a puzzle that I’m certain to struggle with until it’s released into book form.

Such is the art of being…me.

--:::---

See, i told you. Not crazy in love my dearies - just plain ole "certifiably" crazy.

This year...

will be THE year of the jana - where resolutions are replaced by mini-activities that i plan to explore and hopefully accomplish in the next 356 days of this year.

You see, those who know me, know well that the mere word 'resolutions' triggers this rebel spirit into formulating secret ways of cheating, sabotaging or flat out breaking them. So this year, i refused to waste my energy on making said resolutions. They've been replaced by 'mini-activities to explore/accomplish' - a fancy to do list inspired by the infamous scorps1027.

--:::---

10 Mini-Activities for 0-6.

1. Write more.

2. Get fit - physically, emotionally, spiritually and mentally.

3. Be more mindful. (thath-thavam: to know thyself)

4. Talk less, listen more (same affliction)

5. To treat myself as I do the ones I love.

6. Tie a saree by myself (sans 3,000 safety pins)

7. Get involved in a not for profit activity - something communal.

8. Embrace every opportunity to spend time with the ones I love through this wedding planning process.

9. Reconnect with my girlfriends and apologize to them profusely for my self-afflicted absence

10. Quit pretending to have a thick skin and instead to actually grow one.

----:::----

Bring it on 06 - cuz you ain't seen nothin' yet :)
(she bravely said before she was devoured by the storm...)

Decluttering

well, more like a painful separation that i'm forcing myself through.

As a shopaholic fashionista (yup, self proclamation) I seem to have amassed quite the wardrobe. Enough to overflow out of the confines of my size 8 shoe box bedroom. It must be a cruel cruel joke played by the powers that be (and my insightful father) - because I (the girl with waaay too many clothes/jackets/wearable items) got the smallest room in the house sans a closet of any kind. So i've been McGuyvering it to make it all work.

Until recently, that is.

I realized that the more I hold onto - the less space I have to fill up. Which theoretically should make me happy considering my unemployed state of being. But no siree - not me. I've embarked on a journey that I should've aeons ago - one that involves decluttering my closet in the hopes of decluttering my life. Organization my ass! This is painful people.

Think of someone maliciously pulling out every single eyelash on your pretty little peepers and then letting it kiss a flame from a defunct zippo. Yup. That's the feeling. Painful.

Most of the things i hold on to and never ever wear come complete with cobwebs and memories. Ones that i can't bear to part with. Call it immaturity or gluttony but regardless of what you name the beast it comes down to the stripping of walls. Well built, well placed walls that protect the Jana fortress. Much like my suit of armour, my act of bravado - so is my closet. Filled to the brim with old memories allowing me to believe that my life is full and complete. With no extra place for newness.

Should work again - theoretically. It works with the emotional and pyschological hoarding. Not so much with the clothing. I still go out and blow my pittance of a savings account on clothing. An addiction. So today - I'm decluttering.

(Note to self: wear protective armour while partaking in this activity. I have a tendency of hurting people (including myself)who try to throw out my precious belongings) - brackets within brackets - I am a veritable scholar.

So long story short - here is a little something that was plastered on a once gorgeous black tee. It's from the early 90's - when i was pro-feminist to the point of puking, obviously had no style (this tee could be a dress), wore lots of lycra regardless of my chunky behind and figured it all made sense in my head. Boy was I wrong...but some of the RULES on my tee (think it was a souvenir from our first trip to Niagara Falls - don't judge people - even diva's were fobs at one point)still ring true.

--
Here they are:

The Rules
1. The female always makes the rules
2. No male can possibly know the rules
3. If the female suspects the male knows all the rules, she must immediately change some of the rules
4. The female is never wrong
5. The female can change her mind at any given point of time
6. The female has every right to be angry or upset at any time
7. The male must remain calm at ALL times, unless the female wants him to be angry, or upset
8. The female must under no circumstances let the male know whether or not she wants him to be angry, or upset.
9. If the female has PMS,all rules are null and void
10. The male cannot diagnose PMS.

--

Sad isn't it? Yet, still funny. Got a little chuckle out of me.

But adios long-black- overly-stretched-out tee, you've been good to me. Through years of all nighters, ugly bouts of "I'm pmsing buzz off", prolonged sad sessions and heart breaks. You will be remembered fondly but all good things must come to an end at some point.

And this would be THAT point for you.

Urgh...back to work jana. Chop Chop! After all decluttering is a humane activity. It lets your once useful recently defunct clothing rest in peace. And simultaneously welcomes your brand spanking new items into a spacious home.

I wonder if this would count as my good deed for the day...

Dolly's heaven bound

A condensed version of the weekend - my attempt at chronicling an all around feel good vacay!

Friday's Festivities

Friday night was tremendously entertaining - I attended a Taize prayer session at Aunty M's local church. Now now, hold your horses there girlies - Nope, i'm still not switching religious teams but there's nothing wrong with a little extra curricular flirtation. It was calm, peaceful and soothing. An hour of latin chants, candle lighting and no touching of strangers (that's the one thing that irks me about Jesus' clan - they actively reach out and shake each other's hands in the hopes of passing on peace). All in all it was lovely. Dim lights, a near empty chapel, a gorgeously understated hour of spiritual R&R. I relaxed and let the sonorous chants wash my woes away.

We closed up friday night with a viewing of North Country (definitely an Oscar contender) that was both inspiring and angering. Women take too much crap and it's about time some of us stood up and claimed a little bit of dignity back from them XY chromosomed creeps. Although, as the words leave my fingertips I'm quick to realize that this world is also filled with vicious women who have contributed more than their fair share to all sorts of discriminatory practices. Perhaps next time around, I'm going to ask to come back as water - real yet transcending this reality. A late night chow down at Tremendous more than filled the void that the ridiculously good popcorn didn't - and with that Aunty M chased me out of her peripheral vision and welcomed some much needed shut eye.

Saturday Stories

*** i think i waited too long to complete this entry because I can't for the life of me recall what happened during the rest of this weekend. However, stay tuned folks - lots has happened and with the new year you're bound to find a whole slew of new and hopefully entertaining posts. Until then - godbless***

P.S. I got me a fotolog: www.fotolog.com/soulsysta - niiiiice.

Creme de la creme

today an oxymoron swaddled me like new borns are - part suffocation, part comfort -
part joy, part sorrow as i realized the one truity in my existence:

while i know many - i only love a few.

and whilst one might believe that with age you gather the bag of tricks that is necessary to form a larger (and cohesive) group of buddies - i disagree because if i didn't that would mean that i've failed. And THAT my dear friends would be a damn shame.

however, the few that are loved and adored and revered in my circle will always be accepted - flaws, ticks, quirks and all.
i know, i am quite giving innit?

what brought this suffocating realization on?
blogs.

i stumbled upon a group of blogs - strong, eloquent south asian women across the USofA - who have fallen in the throes of friendship with each other - going as far as travelling thousands of kms to grab a weekend bite and make a few cherishable memories. awww right?

well guess what - i don't have that.

a part of me, the imp that lives within, wishes i did.
a group of people to whom appearances don't matter - to whom words, experiences, revelations set the tone, demeanor and interactions that ensue. a group of people not bonded by the activities they partake in but in the collective emotional growth and failures that they experience.

huh.

reeks a lot like the relationship i have with the inner circle.
and perhaps that's my larger woe - i'm too afriad to realize that i've already got everything that i'll ever need to make this life memorable.

this weekend - i promise to conquer that beast of emotional dissonance.

and if that fails, heck - at least i'll meringue my ass out of this insiduous funk.

Give and Take

or is it just take take take?

These days, considering how far most of us single gals have come - I wonder if we have lost the ability to have a relationship that's filled with equity. An equal measure of give and take. I wonder if we've grown overly accustomed to catering all our needs first and foremost thereby, forgetting the needs of those that integrate themselves into our existence.

Being in a monogamous relationship for two and a half years and counting - I speak from experience when I say that it's probably the toughest hurdle that one must overcome. I got lucky you see, I have a man who understands that I'm not the greatest at giving and sadly, well equipped in the "taking" department. My wonderful man goes out of the way to school me on the art of balance - a man who is deliciously wrapped in patience and tolerance. Unfortunately not all of us get that lucky.


So how does one deal?

A) Take until the giving runs dry and move on to the next veritable well of generosity
B) Change our inner sanctum of beliefs (Blasphemous I know! but really, more like nudge things around to give a little)
C) Give up. Call it "hard work". Deem it unfit in relationship terms and kick him to the curb.
D) Compromise (the ugly ugly c word for most independent minded singletons)
E) Sift through all those options, look into his eyes and realize that small concessions must be made in order to bask in that blessed divinity.

Huh. Options. Options. Options people.

And at the end of the day - it all boils down to how badly does this one person matter? Is the family outing, the boys night out, an all testosterone poker party - little things - do those matter more than the comfort of the nook you find somewhere between his side and his arm?

Guiltily, I admit I expect my boytoy to go out of his way to attend all family functions, cultural outings, events that make him squirm in his undies and leave him itching to flee - and when he refuses - I balk. I stare at him and think - the AUDACITY to even attempt to duck out of an obligation. Gosh, shouldn't he love me more?

Yet, that very same sentiment is lost when it's his turn to ask a favor. The double standard does exist and I think that every relationship harbors it in its own special secret hiding place. All this was brought on by a mild confrontation that lil R had with B - two souls trying hard to integrate two lifetimes into one love story. Lovely isn't it? Human beings are damn interesting - especially when their emotions are involved. We become children drawing that imaginary line that separates the "us" from "them” all the while forgetting that at the end of the day - we're on the same team just trying to make things peachy for everyone involved.

Dilemma's galore. If anyone figures it out, please feel free to drop me a line and edumacate my broke ass soul.

Im drenched. Literally. The gods that be must be brawlin about something fierce because they've unleashed their watery wrath in bucketfuls. And unawares, I caught myself amidst their row. Not the first and certainly not the last. But, as my fingers freeze over I realize - I relish these moments of absolute clarity.

God Bless.
J

Another shot at stardom

This evening I've got a meeting with a certain CD of a very reputable ad agency. I've heard great things about both the shop and the people that work there.

While, the word on the street is that they may be looking for a jr. copywhore - im not going to get too excited. After all, cautious optimism is the way to go.

Goodluck me. I hope we kick some serious behind.

But in the offchance that we don't, just remember - we will be fine.

Cheers.

Rubbish or trash - talking?

In a world where people focus on fulfilling the "right now" - with things such as disposable camera's, disposable lunch boxes and disposable diapers (to name a few) - how disposable are people?

In a recently heated debate, two star crossed lovers (read: 54 kms apart) debated the pros and cons of just that sentiment. The estrogen, alive and kickin for over a 1/4 of a century - proposed that people are replaceable. They have to be in order to survive. At least from her limited experiences. Situations have painted her into a corner - into believing that the only people you can't replace in this world are the people you are born with. Ultimately, they are also the only people you can truly trust. Because other people such as friends, acquaintances, shit - boyfriends even, have to be deemed replaceable in order to protect the frail spirited. You see, people who are disposable can't possibly bludgeon your heart and shatter it to smithereens because well, you can replace them before reciting the entirety of the alphabet.

Now, is that horribly jaded or just plain pragmatic?

Does one have to feel obliged to deem someone indispensible/irreplaceable if they happened to love the said other? Can't we just get along by agreeing to disagree?

A tiny voice in one lonely crevice cries out against this blatant stupidity. "Hell no" she screams. "You cannot believe that the love of your life is replaceable"

And then reality kicks in.

I thought my grandma was for eternity and loved her as such. Loved her in ways that only 6 years olds can. And lost her to a context that made absolutely no sense to me. So lesson 1: when you love someone like they are your own they become indispensable - thereby leaving you seriously screwed when they disappear.

You can't blame a girl for self preservation. It might be childish to some - or heck, even most of you - but honestly - inside this twenty something year old woman searching to establish an identity lies that emotionally raw 6 year old. Still clutching on to an imaginary hand that had already let go.

So disposable or not - that's how the story ends.Unfortunately while some of us brave the realities of heartache and admit to never being able to replace or dispose of certain ties that bind...others of us find solace in knowing that only a handful of people in the entire world have the ultimate power to completely annihalate them.

Preservation - good. Extinction - not so much.

Having said that, i sincerely hope that one day that "said other" will become part of my real family - and when that happens - he will bring with him a pod to connect. And while net sharing can be a gloriously generous activity - pod sharing can get quite complicated. So here's me - eager to share my pod and my home with the love of my life all the while knowing that i have just opened myself up to being hurt by 4 more people.

Note to self: Don't fall in love again. This is a deceptively dangerous activity especially for a chicken shit such as said self.

Yet, another dilemma locked into the vault.
God Bless.

P.S. The yorkdale trip left my inner fashionista starving. Stella's stuff was gone within the first half hour of her debut. She was ravenously devoured by a pack of hungry chic wolverines leaving me remnants that couldn't be recycled. Three bikini's and a chain link purse - yup, that's all they left behind. And even that had a waiting list of piranha's willing to bite. Oh well. Adios Stella - we shall meet again. And next time - maybe it will be in person. ;)

Whew

over-reacted.

called yorkdale
there's a tiny weeny little selection left
some returns from yesterdays madness

so new plans for the afternoon
drive to yorkdale

im not vain people
i just keep it real'

;)

SOLD OUT

So, imagine my wrath when i called H&M at Scarborough Town Centre to inqure if they were carrying McCartney's hot new budget line of couture - only to find out that THEY ARE SOLD OUT.

SOLD OUT on BLOOR
and
you guessed it
SOLD OUT at Yorkdale

How do you sell out of an entire LINE of clothing and accessories in HALF a BLOODY EFFIN DAY.

grrr.

now my dreams of owning ONE measely piece of McCartney will wither and die in oblivion.

to the biatches who bought all the shit - i hope you trip, fall and possibly rip the McCartney that should've been mine.

anger.
yup, it's still red.

Seven.

Okay, this insightful quiz is courtesy of Sibil, (aka, In Transit). Lucky number 7!

7 things I plan to do before I die:

1). Write a book. Publish said book (s).
2). Travel the world & capture it all on black&white film
3). Buy my baby 3rd row courtside basketball tickets for an entire season
4). Own a beautiful house and turn it into a sensational home complete with all my loved ones
5). Live in New York for a couple months and just write.
6). Acquire a few pieces of couture (Coco Chanel, Luis, Blahnik..etc)
7). Have good credit (well, this might be something that I carry over into my next lifetime)

7 things I can do:

1). Spot a new trend in almost anything
2). Write deliciously (albeit when the mood strikes)
3). Be the protector of my litter
4). Get lost even with the greatest directions
5). have a great conversation.
6). cook yummy meals (so long as there’s cable modem in the building).
7). Sell snow to an eskimo/convince myself of anything

7 things I cannot do:
1). Be away from my family for prolonged periods of time
2). complicated numbers – especially while I’m shopping
3). stop drinking coffee.
4). be quiet (unless it’s early morning).
5). resist a great author, a great cup of coffee and a little me time
6). be alone for long periods of time.
7). tolerate stupidity or fools

7 things that attract me to another person:

1). A great smile (the kind that tickles your pupils)
2). Smart/witty repertoire.
3). Manners/etiquette.
4). Individuality/ Comfort in their own skin (quirky)
5). Spontaneity (something I sorely lack)
6). the ability to think outside the box (especially with fashion)
7). Authenticity ( an inimitable spirit)

7 things that I say most often:

1). Shit outta luck
2). Hey buddy
3). OMG!
4). Innit!
5). No freaking way!
6). Now, that’s fabulous!
7). I’m sorry. (what? People are sooo overly-sensitive)

7 People I want to do this:
1). Mikes
2). My dad (that’d be interesting)
3). My sisters
4). Subashini
5). Aunty Madge (she’s crazy banana’s)
6). Priya/Sherry/Mich/Tash (cuz I know lots of little things but not the important ones – like these – insert eye rolling here)
7). Abu ( she’s blood but I still don’t know her very well)