Friday night. Just came back from K's. I actually had a NYC weekend planned out, but I've opted to stay home and get together with friends I havent seen in a while. Then on Sunday, while a SuperBowl Party is being thrown at my house (by my parents), I will be in another room with my cousin having the Anti-SuperBowl Party. This consists of watching DVD's such as Amelie, Y Tu Mama Tambien, and a movie of his choice. The main reason the Anti-Superbowl Party is at my house is because we are Pro Superbowl Snacks.

The other day at work, K.B. and I decided to order nachos from the hospital cafe. She dials the number and hears a beep. K.B. asks J.L., "What do I do when I hear the beep? Do I just leave a message?" And J.L. says, "Yeah."

K.B. leaves this message, "My name is K.B. and my number is *****. I'd like one order of Loaded Nachos to be ready by 11:30. If there is a problem, please give me a call."

Harmless enough.

Within 30 seconds, the phone was ringing non-stop.

Somehow she missed a number while she was dialing. She had dialed the PA system to call for a Code, and her 'message' went all over the hospital...the clinic, all the floors, the cafeteria...everywhere.

We were laughing so hard, we couldnt even attempt to console her. We finally calmed down and someone walked in and asked,"K.B. I hear there are some nachos in here!" She will never live this down (understandibly so!).

I laughed for 8 hours straight. Now that is the most embarassing moment I've ever heard of.

Snow day! Holla!

Actually I woke up this morning and it was snowing buckets, so I called work and said I wasnt coming. I stayed in, finished reading The Alchemist by Paulo Coehlo (I highly recommend this book), and now Im putzing around. Thumbs up!

The other day I went to my friend A.M.'s place. She lives with her boyfriend R.C. whom we've all known since high school. So like my other friends from the high school days, she is saying, "I'll go to the reuinion if you go." Then I figured it would be more fun there was a profile of everyone in our class before going to the reunion. This would provide the necessary data of a picture ID, how much weight they have gained, job status, and marital status.

Then A.M. told me how J.F was throwing a bday party for her hubby. Let me backtrack for a sec. All these letters Im mentioning are people I grew up with. Myself, A.M. and J.F. have been friends since we were 10. Then by high school, there were 5 boys came along and we were all one big group. We were all in J.F.s wedding.In 2001, there was a falling out with one of them as he messed around with a girlfriend of the one of the other guys. By December 2001, I had dated one of the friends (M.P.) very briefly, we broke up (which he felt bad about), we had a discussion about how the outside world felt about 9/11 (since I was out of the country, I was dealing with the Anti-American backlash), and somehow stopped talking to me.

Back to the topic at hand. So A.M. told me about J.F.'s hubby's bday party. I wasnt invited, and M.P. was, and Im figuring thats why I wasnt invited. A.M., J.F., and I went out for lunch at the end of December, and I knew J.F. and I were growing apart. Everything was nice, but conversation between her and I flowed differently. She told us to save the date of the birthday party. Then when A.M. told me about the party and who was going, I somehow felt really bad. I even regretted my time with M.P. as I lost a great friend because of it. I actually always regretted that. For some reason, after hearing about the bday party, I felt the loss of friendship. I have a lot of friends, and Im very lucky, but the loss of dynamic and solidarity made me sad.

I dont want to go to the reunion and see all the friendships that fizzled once everyone went to college. I dont want to hear the fake, "I'll call you!" when it probably wont happen. Or maybe I should stop looking at the negatives and find the positives. I'm a lot smarter now, I know I can handle myself.

Today Im going to live in the present. Do what I feel. And I feel hungry.

There is a time and place for an opinion. Some people think there is always a time and place for their opinion.

I was walking down the hallway at work, when some random dude said, "Are you going to attempt to smile?"

I dont know this dude (I had other bad names for him, but I've been trying to curb my swearing habits), and he doesnt know me. He doesnt know if I've had a bad day or not. Point being, I've never had any interaction with him. What is he, the smile police?

I politely responded with a, "No, not today."

My emotions are written on my face. If Im mad, one can tell. If Im happy one can tell. But when Im not happy, random people feel the need to interject their invaluable opinion about me smiling, or not.

Another day, I had a rough day at work. My focus was getting to my car, and speeding home. A guy who was on his cell phone said, "Jeez, would it hurt you to crack a smile?"

I politely responded, "Yes it would." And continued walking off.

I dont understand why people have to say anything. Im not smiling because I dont have anything to smile about at that moment. Me and my glum face will be past your line of vision in less than 10 seconds, one cant keep their thoughts to themselves? Or do they think their opinion means something to me? The look on my face is that agonizing for you it cant be tolerated? I dont know you, you dont know me, and I dont care.

It cant possibly validate a person. Since those days, I still havent made a conscious effort to smile if Im having a bad day. I dont owe anyone anything. Im not screaming down the street (even if I'd like to), or acting violently (although I would like to).

Sometimes people care about the strangest things.

This year has been a year of breaking even. Gaining what I lost.

I lost a ring in Boston. The next week, my friend said she found it in her car.

I ended a friendship, as the friend went psycho on me. He then wrote a letter of apology, and we are working on our friendship again.

Weight gain.

On Friday, I was told I was canned. Today, they said they will keep me for another few months until my position is filled by someone else. The thing is, when they gave me the job, there was never an advertisement or posting for my position. I had called to see if there was anything available, and they said yes. Because it was never advertised, its not a valid position, which is why I cant be made permanent. Temporary positions can last no longer than 6 months. Yesterday I started telling people that January 30th is my last day. I was surprised to see how upset some people felt. I have to admit, it is nice to be valued. Im happy that I have my job for a little while longer. Hopefully by the time I finish, I'll be starting school.

And I can still go for a haircut with my gay and glamorous hairdresser. Life is semi-normal again.

I came back from the mall, and it was full of pink and red hearts, and other Valentine vandalism. The madness must end. This really isnt a major holiday which needs to be shoved down our throat a month in advance. A week will suffice. Actually, forgetting about the holiday all together would be dandy.

So Friday I was feeling pretty crappy. I just sat around like a blob. Saturday I went into NYC for a friends birthday party which was a ton of fun. After the party at 3am, my friend and I went to the Mercury Bar for one last drink and some pizza. Its nice to know you can get whatever you want whenever you want. Then we finally slept around 6am. Sunday we woke up, chilled, ate hummus and cheesecake, and watched an amazing movie called Waking Life. Then I came home. Today is Martin Luther King Jr. Day, so no work, although its not much of a holiday because neither of my parents have to work either. At least I had some incentive to begin a job search!

I met a really interesting girl (who I'll call Rhea) at the party. She was very nice, and I'm guessing a bit drunk which is why she gave me her life story. Not that I minded, it was pretty cool. Im going to share it with you. Lets take a break from the morbidity, shall we?

Rhea's mother was born in Cuba. During the revolution when Fidel Castro was coming into power, they were allowing people who did not agree with Castro's policies (and everything else) to leave the country. The majority of people who left ended up in Miami, or Union City, New Jersey (dont ask me how). Rhea's mother ended up in Union City.

Rhea's mother always knew she was a lesbian, but in the early 1960's it was a taboo topic. Her mother lived with a strict Catholic family and couldnt tell anyone how she felt. One day, her mother met Rhea's Spanish father, who was 20 years her senior, and then married him.

Rhea was born. Her father died 4 years later. Her mother then picked up and moved to Manhattan bringing Rhea with her.

This was the early 1970's. Rhea's mother joined a lesbian group called "La Violinistas" (which means "The Violins" in Spanish. It was there Rhea's mother met her stepmother.

Rhea was telling me about life with "two mommies." She said they were strict with her, sent her to Catholic School, and made her eat her veggies. Kids at school teased her for having two mommies and no daddy. When she was 11, someone once told her, "You have two mommies. That is so fucked up." Rhea responded with a punch saying, "You dont know where your father is, and your mother is a bitch." (Did I mention that Rhea was raised in Manhattan? Those kids have a lot of street smarts!) People threw comments like that towards her every so often, but she said, she had 2 people who loved her, so she was luckier than most. She mentioned that peoples misconceptions about her life and her mothers made her stronger and smarter. She said that just because her mothers are lesbians, people assumed they had crazy parties, were all around dirty people, and would force Rhea to be a lesbian too.

After a broken engagement, Rhea met a very nice guy (who was also at the party...he was about 6'7!!), and they dated for 2 years and married. Rhea wanted to make sure that he was accepting of her parental situation. At the wedding, she had a mother-daughter dance with her mother. Her mother first said no, because she thought Rhea would be embarrassed, but Rhea didnt care. Now everyone is happy and healthy.

I thought it was such a nice story. I love to hear about people who can get past others ignorance and misconceptions to come out on top.

**This post may be filled with some swear words used singly and in combination. Possibly some spelling mistakes as well, but thats what happens after drinking Mike's Hard Lemonade after a bad day.

2004 has been rather shitty to say the least. Let me enumerate the crap that has happened in the past 16 days of the new year.

*Car gets hit
*Weight Gain
*Garage Door opener is broken which results in me having to ring my own doorbell to get in the house, therefore having to engage in parental conversation the moment I walk in. (Yes Im getting a key made)
*Mom recovering from surgery, so she is awake and in full effect by 6am, and feels the need to ask me 100 questions while I have my 2 minute breakfast.
*A friendship ended.
*Im getting emails about my high school reunion, and I've seen more names from high school in my inbox than I care to remember.
*I got my 2 week notice today.

Yes its true. I have to leave my job. Its not because I did anything wrong, but it has to do with my contract. Im being paid by the grant which runs the trial, and the university I work for kept me on a temporary basis because of this. All temps can work for a maximum of 6 months. I've worked there for 7 months. It really was the worst news I've received in a long time. Not just because I wont have a job after February 1st, but I love my job. I left work early today, and I was thinking about all the people I wont see everyday, and I was also wondering how to tell people without making it a big deal. Do I leave quietly or do I have to give big hugs and long goodbyes? Whatever the case is, these next two weeks are going to suck bigtime. Fuckity Fuck Fuck.

I've already begun the job search, and I saw a couple things that sparked my interest within the University I work for along the same lines I am doing now. I guess on Tuesday (Monday is a holiday) Im going to submit my resume, have my boss give me a recommendation, and keep my fingers crossed. If all else fails, I can work at the H&M in the mall and get discounts on clothes. Yeah. Nah. Im trying to see the silver lining around the cloud, or the light at the end of the tunnel, or the opportunity that is knocking. Im so convinced that there is something bigger waiting for me, I spend half my time creating optomism for myself. Im such a shithead. I feel like one. I dont know why. I didnt do anything wrong. I wonder who is going to do my job though. Oh well. Its not my fucking job to train the next person now is it?

So I was feeling pretty low. Low enough that I didnt go into NYC for my friends birthday and now I feel like even more of a bitch because I couldnt put my glorious gloom aside for a friends birthday. One who was kind enough to spend my birthday with me. Im going in tomorrow armed with ingredients to bake a cheesecake, a bottle of Bacardi, and some Tandoori chicken. To believe Im going to share all of that. I should have had that tonight. No, No, the friends deserve it. Im hoping after washing my hair with my new Paul Mitchell shampoo, I'll have a kick in my step.

Who am I kidding? Paul Mitchell cant do nothing for me. (Hey! Look at me! I speak-a English!) This requires a visit to my gay and glamorous hairdresser for a new haircut, haircolor and an injection of self esteem. Possibly a new outifit too. I may be jobless, (and broke after trying to raise my self esteem) but that is no excuse to look that way.

All I want is a fucking hug and I cant seem to find that either. Screw the hug, I'd like some luck of the good positive kind. What if I kiss the Blarney Stone? Would that help?

hey guys. the comment thing broke down, and apparently its affecting a lot of blogspeak users. (Me for one). Since I cannot bear to be without your comments, I have switched to comment this. Im still a novice at the blog decorating, so dont be alarmed if you see a few weird things on this blog besides the content.

Ah yes. I promised "The Next Installment." Here it is. Another post about another boy and some alcohol. (This time, very minimal alcohol, but we did have a few drinks)

Being an Indian female, my parents and assorted family members, as well as people whom I hardly know have been harping on me getting married. My mother has been talking to me about it since I was 13, and the major pressure began by age 21. Not the finding a guy, falling in love type marriage. The tall, handsome, good job, great family, same caste type marriage. The arranged marriage. (Said in a deep, echoing, booming voice with accompanying diabolic laughter)

I have met guys for the arranged marriage. Not out of my own free will of course. Some random person meets some random person who knows someone in my family, therefore they learn that I exist. The random people know a perfectly suitable boy for me, and say we should meet. My parents get all excited, and have nicer things to say about the boy than they have to say about me. I say I dont want to meet him, they say its too late, they've already talked to his parents and now we have to meet. I get pissed. I have to wear one of my salwars (because I will NOT wear a sari to meet a guy!), and the whole car ride, my parents give me my little script of what to say, how to act, and what not to say. I go there with his whole family greeting my whole family. I sit there like a little doll, everyone talking around me. Then I get an occasional question or 2, and thats it. Then they make me and the guy talk alone somewhere for a bit. We talk, we finish, we go back to our respective owners, we go home. I sit in car, parents berate me with questions whether I like him or not, I say no, they ask why, I give reason, they get mad. (the end part as told in my summary, does not hold true for everyone) I have a lot to say on this topic, but I'll save that for another day.

Then there is the liberated way, where me and Guy somehow make our own plans and meet up alone, without family.

For a week, I've been talking to a Guy. First you must understand, now that Im 27, Im headed toward old hagdom, and considered unmarriable. So my fathers cousins wife's mother in Chicago knows the cousin of Guy (they grew up in the same town in India), and they spoke of Guy, who is 27, and well, right here we have a 27 year old female. I didnt want to talk to him, because I hate this process, but Fathers cousins wife's mother gave him my number and he called the next day.

I was in for a nice surprise in that he was cool to talk to. He held up his end of the conversation. He had a ton of questions about India. Anyway, we spoke a few times after that and decided to meet up. He lives in New Jersey, and is going for his MBA in Pittsburgh. So we decided to meet up before he goes back, which was loosely translated as, lets get this crap over with and not drag it out.

We decided to meet up in NYC on Thursday, which is central for both of us. We exchanged pics via email so we knew what we were getting into. He met me at my friends apartment (no one was home), and I opened the door to find a cutie standing there. We exchanged hellos and he handed me a small box of Godiva chocolates. We hung out at my friends for a half an hour just talking. Actually, we were avoiding going outside because it was so damn cold. We went to dinner at the Holy Basil, (yummy Thai Food!) which is in the Union Square area. Dinner was yummy, and conversation flowed the whole time. We both even ordered red wine to calm the nerves.

Afterwards, we went to the Lemon Bar, which is a big lounge/restarant type place also near the Union Square area. Its got funky music, and red lighting. I loved it. We sat in the upstairs part, and split a brownie ice cream sundae and he ordered a Hypnotic and I got my Watermelon Martinis. A lot of talking ensued, I even asked him if he ever had a serious girlfriend, and he was kind enough to answer.

He had to catch the 11pm bus back to New Jersey, and my friend lives 3 blocks from Port Authority (the bus station) so we went back. He dropped me off at my friends, and we said the most awkward goodbye in the history of goodbyes. We hugged, and both of us just stuttered our goodbyes. "Ok...bye!" "You have my email...so...yeah, you can email sometime." "Thanks for taking me out...uh..." "Well, um..bye!" Its different when you're meeting someone for the purpose of getting married, and its not your regular date. Mainly because afterwards,you have to report to your superiors about whether you like the person or not.

So I went back, and gave my friend a short synopsis of what happened. I have to admit, it was a lovely outing. Im a bit apprehensive to call it a date, but if it was a date, it was a great first date! He's going back to Pittsburgh today, so dont know if I'll hear from him. I dont know what the proper etiquette is, because I was surprised I actually liked him. Not like like (can you like like someone after one meeting? I cant.), but got the good vibes. I sent him an email yesterday Thanking him for a nice evening, and Im hoping he will reply with some thoughts. If he'd like to keep in touch I would be cool with that. If he said he wanted to marry me, after only meeting me once, thats grounds for me saying no. Just so I know. I like to be in the loop for these things, rather than hearing it from my dad's cousins wife's mother.

**Epilogue**: Guy and I talked again. He said since we both have different goals right now, it probably wouldnt work. I thought that was very cool of him to tell me straight out. I thought I would be upset, but Im strangely relieved.

Chronologically, I should blog about my New Years. This blog is all about disorderly conduct, so I must follow the rules.

I drove up to Boston on Friday. It was a smooth ride, I reached Lizzie's place safe and sound. I was there for a couple hours. Myself, her and her hubby went out for Thai food, and just hung around for a couple hours. Since I told S.C and B.C. I would meet them by 4, I left Lizzie's by 3:45. Lizzie and The C's live within 15-20 minutes of each other.

First I must explain Boston. I dont like Boston. It doesnt have any personality, but I go there to see my friends. I do like the jazz clubs there. Roads in Boston are horrendous. NYC is a city with its land area that is more North-South. Therefore the roads are arranged in a grid-like manner. So if driving is your form of transportation to NYC, and you miss your specific turn (pretty much every other street is a one-way street), you turn at the next street, travel in a square and you can get back to your original spot. (I think I made it sound more confusing than it really is)

Boston is full of rotaries. Bends, twists and turns. Its not straightforward. Therefore, if you miss a turn, you've basically created a downward spiral for yourself. This is exactly what happened to me.

Im at one of these rotaries and take a wrong turn. Im travelling along and at this point I call S.C. She tells me to turn around, and go back to the aforementioned rotary and take another turn. I do that, and get completely lost. I took a grand tour of Boston. I saw Harvard and M.I.T., and then got back on track. Since I was making S.C. late to meet her friend, they decided I was lost enough to get directed to the mall instead. So Im supposed to cross this long Bridge over the Charles River. At some point the road splits, and I was supposed to follow the right road. I get to the end of the bridge and go right. I end up on Commonwealth Ave (getting a small tour of Boston University), and I feel lost again. I stop at a gas station to get directions (again). As I exit the gas station, Im trying to get into the left lane. Im in the right lane, just about to turn when the car at the stop light backs into me! (He had stopped over the crosswalk and decided to backup) This shakes me to the core. Im completely lost and now someone backed their f*in car into me. I wasnt in a mood to fight with anyone. I was lucky in that the guy was from Colorado and very very nice.We exchanged the insurance info and etc, so hopefully everything will be straightened out in a bit.

I was told to get to this mall I have to cross over a Mass Ave bridge, and take a right. Im stuck in the left lane and cant cross over. Here the theory of, "If I just take the next left, I'll make a nice little square and be back on track." Oh no. Hell no. It couldnt be that easy. I end up on the highway and take the first exit. Im in Boston Commons. Im supposed to be in Cambridge. Im all messed up. I talk to my friend for the 100th time, and I see a sign for the Mass Pike (aka The highway!). Im so happy, that I figure I'll get on it, and if I end up going West, I'll go straight back home. If I go east, I'll go to my friends. So I see the sign for the East, and I get on. As she's directing me, I finally start crying a bit saying, "Its taken me 2 hours to drive a 20 minute drive!" After another 20 minutes I reach her place. B.C. is waiting for me, hands me a cupcake and says, "Cupcakes are good after car accidents."

He drives me to the mall, and assures me that if you miss any turn you take in Boston, your grand tour will begin. So we meet with everyone at the Cheesecake Factory. We're all sitting and chatting and I realize Im missing a ring. I still have not found it but it was just more shit to add to the pile. The Apple Martini came just in time.

Then we went to The C's home, with their couple friends, and played this 80's/90's Trivia game, which I loved. We lost, but it was a fun blast into the past. I played a bit of Mortal Kombat which helped to relieve some stress.

The couple friends left, and we went to Jillians. Jillians is by Fenway Park, and its an arcade/pool hall/darts/fooseball/ bar/dance club kind of place. Everything is on a different level. I was sitting in the back of the car, which is a two-door. As Im crawling out of the back seat, my foot gets stuck on the inside of the car, I trip, fall and twist my ankle. I get up, and hobble myself to Jillians, because I was determined to have a good time. All the crap that was going on only affected me, and it wasnt due to anyone else. Just some bad karma, or misalignment of the moon. We went inside, and I got myself another drink (for medical reasons), played darts and fooseball.

We go home, and I slump on the couch. I was drained. Everyone is talking but my head is numb. I told myself that tomorrow will be a new day, and hopefully things will fall back into its happy little place.

Happy New Year!

When you dont blog for a week, lots of things happen, so Im somehow going to have to keep my update in parts. This will be part I.

My 27th Birthday. Thank you God, it was the best. This is the first time I have ever gone out in a fun way on my birthday due to the timing. I think I'll be spending evey birthday in the City.

I went into NYC on Saturday afternoon. My first stop was Macy's to get my first item from MAC makeup ever. Lipgloss. That was the most suitable purchase seeing as I dont wear any other form of makeup. Lots of good looking people in Macy's, and there I was schlepping with my backpack, tourist written all over me. Ladies, (and Men too), I highly recommend MAC lipgloss. It never comes off!

I ended up with 2 lipglosses and a lip liner, and headed over to my friends apartment in the Hells Kitchen area for a little pregame partying, and the chance to put my damn backpack to rest. We were straight chillin boos, then we got ready. C.O. has enough makeup to paint a whole house, so she insisted on doing my face. She put all this pinky and purply eyeshadow, and a pinky lipgloss. I was worried, but darn happy with the results if I do say so myself. I'll have to go back to Macy's to buy a 3rd MAC lipgloss. I was looking fly.

Most of my favorite bars/lounges are all along 9th Ave, so our first stop was Bar Nine. There I had Raspberry Cosmopolitans, and my friend R and I made conversation with the bartender. I was wearing black pants with a funky purply shirt, and R was wearing a shiny greenish shirt, and a pair of pants which I dont know how to describe. Accordion like, I suppose. This Australian Bartender was commenting on how colorful we were and how we stood out against the all black crowd. Hey, thats why I wore what I wore.

2 more friends of mine met up with us, and by that time I moved on to my 3rd Raspberry Cosmo, looking good feeling fly. R was insistant we go to his friends bar before midnight, the 28th. So I said bye bye to my Aussie Bartender, and we crossed the street and went to S.R.O. (Single Room Occupancy). Here I felt exclusive and elite, as you have to press a buzzer in order to get in. There is a camera outside, and if they think you're ok, they let you in. I know they let me in because I was with R, but how many people can say, "Well, they let me in." Ok, the only person I know who has gone into S.R.O. is R and C.O, but I still felt glam.

S.R.O. is a narrow corridor like place, all black with white candles. THey only serve beer and wine. My friends paid for everything, and I was having Merlots. What I like about small bars is that you can talk to people and the bartenders. So I told them it was my birthday, and at midnight they played, "In Da Club" by 50 Cent, and they sang "Go Shorty, its your birthday!" Not much more to elaborate on. I thought it was 2:30am for about 3 hours. But I was feeling good, and chatting away.

My 2 friends who met up with us, went their separate ways, and it was just R and I. We made one last stop at the Mercury Bar, where I had a rum and coke. We were talking and it was nice. Although walking back, everything was a bit blurry, and I had to tell him to direct me. But we got back safe and sound, and I passed out like I did 27 years ago.


After that, I went to C.O. and R's place, picked up the damn backpack, boarded the train, slept on the train, and went home smiling.

My list of presents : Gift Certificates from--H&M, Victorias Secret, The Limited, Bath and Body Works, Lord and Taylor
picture frame
candle
uncut diamond necklace from my mother
Scrabble CD Rom
Scarf
Moosie stuffed animal
New outfit from Benetton (from me)
free drinks
Im still awaiting present from best friend, who is in Spain til tomorrow!

Not too bad. Not bad at all. Im off to Boston now. The next installment should be New Years (Not much to elaborate on!), and some Boy stories. Will you be back?