Ghar pe rasgulle hone chahiye

Please be to having lots of little balls soaked in syrup at home for the midnight snacks.

Uneventful day. Went to the Jains'. Was fun. Nothing notable to report. Don't you love how I blog even when I have nothing to blog about?

Bedtime!

Have you noticed?

Desi television serials are obsessed with marriage. It's true. Name one. Any one. You'll see. They're all obsessed with marriage.

My flu won't go away.

Dad made lots of samosas this morning. Only one was fit to be presented to Mum. Which is good, because after eating that one she didn't want anymore. God help us, he's been cooking fish all day.

To the Jains' we go for wot I suspect is a lot of card playing. Which is always fun.

And for you Black Cobra, I give you relics from the past -
"Bhabhiji, yeh kaise wahiyaad patte baatein hain!"
"Sarvesh, yeh rodhana ban karo."

My mother has delivered 50,500 babies.

That's an approximation. But close.

Went to Kwality restaurant today with the Jains, the Maliks and the Katarias to celebrate Mum's official retirement. Lord knows she's not going to sit still but at least she doesn't have to go driving to Ras Al Khaimah everyday.

So we estimated that Mum's delivered about 50,500 babies since her career began. Now that's got to be some sort of record.

It was fun with Rajan and Deven and Deep. I should hang out with people more often. Mum got lovely flowers which I've put in her bedroom that are smelling up the air quite nicely.

Don't forget tomorrow's her birthday, Black Cobra.

Now this is an ad

Ode to U.S. Military
Client: Anheuser-Busch
Brand: Anheuser-Busch
Title: "Applause"
Agency: DDB, Chicago

DDB Chicago's 'Applause' for Anheuser-Busch's Super Bowl ad lineup generated controversy in the advertising community but was a solid hit with viewers. They rated it the most-liked spot for the period. The ad showed an airport crowd spontaneously applauding a group of soldiers in desert fatigues passing through the concourse.

Is this even legal?

Scotts Miracle-Gro Co. plans to cut its health-care costs by forcing its employees to quit smoking -- and intends to use the savings from this and other cost-cutting programs to boost its advertising spending.

Marysville, Ohio-based Scotts is instituting the anti-smoking policy over the course of the next year, meaning existing employees will have to quit smoking or lose their jobs. The company is offering smoking cessation programs to the roughly one-third of Scotts employees who now smoke, Chairman-CEO Jim Hagedorn said.

Read more...

And another thing..

.. never microwave sweet neembu ka achaar and eat it like subzi. It tastes horrid.

I made a strawberry milkshake

And all the seeds sunk to the bottom. It's very poignant. I wish I could take a picture to show you but that involves too much work.

So I stole one off the internet. Isn't this fun.

Why does it happen, Veerappan?

Went to bed at 2:30 am.

So like we did wake at the crack of bleedin' dawn at 5 am and pushed off for Ras Al Khaimah. Which isn't really THAT far if you take the Emirates Road. Dropped Mum off and on the way back home stopped at the office (dusty as ever), one of the sites (G+1 villa in Barsha), Kataria's house (where we lost a game of pool quite graciously whilst debating which car should be bought - the Phantom or the Maybach) (they're going with the black Rolls natch) and onwards to see the Jains who were not in.

Came home, cracked open the Blue Ocean Strategy to make notes on the paper and promptly fell asleep. Slept from 4 to 7 and was woken up by Art who sounded horribly tired. A, shall ring you tomorrow for the big scoop on life.

I think I want to go back to bed now. Damn but it's good to be home.

Saw a very nice biography on Celine Dion. I miss Vegas. I have Vegas withdrawal. It's December. We're s'posed to be in Vegas.

I think the matter of dispute with the cars was that the Raybach has an automatic footrest and the Rolls doesn't. It has a footrest but it's not button-poppable. Shalin was worried about that. He didn't want to overextend his 14-yr old little finger by negotiating with a non-automatic footrest. I completely empathize. Now the problem is that the Phantom is 6.3m long and the garage is only 6. Can't keep the Phantom out in the sun. Wot's a man to do?



And now, for the quote of the day, from self to Em, "you're my veerappan.. she said in a burst of unprecedented corny affection". Ok, so it wasn't exactly a quote. He'd leap out the nearest winda if I actually said that.

Oh me oh my

but it's good to be home. Was woken up by a cuppa cha and a multi-tiered turkey breast and omelet sammich which was very well received given that dinner had not been had. After pottering around with the classifieds for a bit, I promptly went back to bed. Woke at 2 pm. Ate some more. Went for a drive around town with Pops. Met the Jains and a very effeminate Rajan (poor him). Then the fun part of the evening began. We went to my favorite place - the fruit and vegetable market.

Scoff if you will, but if you've never been on the Oman road to the F&VM on a cool December night, you haven't lived. That place has a language of its own. A head of cauliflower is called a dana. Betcha didn't know that. I was followed by a one-eyed Pathani with a wheelbarrow for quite some time. It was wierd. Anyway, we bought loads of stuff as always and spent about an hour or so cleaning and putting it away.

My father has gone bonkers. He made a salad with the following ingredients:
One boiled egg
Leftover omelet from this morning
Tomatoes (from Holland)
Cheddar cheese (Kraft, cubed)
Moolis (lots of them)
Chinese cabbage (or is it lettuce?)
Iceberg lettuce (only a leaf or two)
Green chilies
Lemon juice (freshly squeezed)
Salt
Chaat masala
Lal mirchi powder
and ate it all. He actually ate it all! Mother gagged in the kitchen and muttered under her breath.

Have convinced Pops to use his new Ericsson and to donate his old Nokia to Mother since she dropped her Samsung in pregnant woman fluids so I could get MY old Nokia back so I now have a cellphone in Dubai. Don't ask about the pregnant woman fluids. You don't want to know. Makes me want to retch just thinking about it.

Speaking of Mother, it's her last night duty tomorrow. Yeppers, me Mum's retiring. So Pops and I shall wake up at the crack of bleedin' dawn to drive her to Ras Al Khaimah to drop her off. Pops booked a limo to go pick her up after her last day at work on the day after. I have been commissioned to charge up the camcorder. I wonder if there'll be champagne. Did I mention that there are all sorts of lights on the tunnels? I shall try and take a picture next time.

And on that note, I shall steal another orange from the fruit basket and toodle off to bed with an improving book.

I miss you, Em.

The eagle has landed. The fat man walks alone.

I'm home now. There was a poodle on the Zurich flight. Don't ask.

I knew it wasn't a mistake to come to the airport 4 hours early.

5:43 am - CST
11:45 am Zurich time

I got selected for SPSS again. And we all know what that means. A good feel-up by a hefty woman in uniform. Here's a tip luvvies - don't fly one way, don't buy your ticket at the time of departure and don't pay with cash. Unless of course you want to be felt up by a hefty in uniform.

Boston to NY is a short flight. The chick who checked me in was an imbecile. She couldn't subtract $166.20 from $180.20. That's all I have to say on the subject.

First class check-in is so much nicer than the others. Here's another tip dahlings - when you have no bags to check-in, don't bother standing in coach lines. Mozee on over to the first class counter and brandish your ticket. Those people will be so glad to see someone that is not traveling with 7 overweight bags who won't pay excess that they'll even smile and be polite to you.

Lots of Jewish people on the flight. Wonder why. They're all going to Tel Aviv, that's why!

You know what's the best part about flying? Not the little cheddar snack packets they give you. Not the ineffectual little pillow either. It's the feeling of utter buoyancy you.. er.. feel.. when the plane takes off. When you know that split second when the wheels are no longer on the tarmac. Sometimes, I like to play a little game with myself and try and guess the exact moment when the wheels should fold back in. It's fun. You should try it.

I sneezed when I sat down and the whiny Yiddish nut job sitting next to me started rolling his eyes and complaining about how he's going to get my germs. After I glared at him and blew my nose noisily, he shut up and went back to muttering to himself and pulling his left ear. His friend asked me to switch seats. I gladly agreed and went to sit with a nice chap who was en route to Nuremburg. When I told him that I had never been there, he seemed surprised. Should I have been there? Is everybody going to Nuremburg? Did I miss out on this new Nuremburg fad?

Zurich airport is nice. Very high ceilings. Wide open spaces and all. Very.. Ikea.. even. They have fully portable passport check stands on wheels in a cordoned-off area in the middle. It's a little confusing as to who's s'posed to go through that as there are no signs. So I stood in it anyway, just for kicks, even though my flight isn't for another 2 hours. So when it was my turn, the chap asked me why I wanted to go to Tel Aviv. I told him because the weather there this time of year was supposed to nice and I hear good things about their baked goods. He was not amused. He was also not amused by the fact that my boarding pass is for Dubai and not Tel Aviv.

There's a lady sitting next to me who's crying because her Dad is dying.

"There is a bumb in ze beeldeeng"

I had ganne ka ras yesterday with ginger juice and lime and wotnot. Very exciting.

Can I just say this - Nyquil rocks. Bless the man who invented Vicks.

So like, I've seen The Pink Panther and A Shot in the Dark and now I'm watching Return of the Pink Panther. Can you see a trend here?

Damn, have to go do laundry. So don't have the energy.

I want cotton candy. The blue kind.

"Take these golden slippers to wear around your neck"

Did I mention that the woman singing is wearing a nightshirt?!

I think I'm hallucinating something fierce.

All I did was change the channel. Honestly.

There are these strange Chinese people singing Italian opera with dancing disembodied leather gloves dancing about with swords and a little kid with a nightingale trapped in a cellphone and fat prophets in Chinese lanterns flying about the place being dusted by feather dusters held by nobody and it is all so bloody bizzare. And there are subtitles. Apparently some emperor wants to hear the nightingale sing. Who sounds frighteningly like Brightman if you ask me. "The moon and stars fill my eyes". Now there are floroscent ducks with little clapping hands inside them. A very non-Chinese woman has appeared and is singing to a bunch of helmets. Now there's some sort of lazer show with urns. Oh God, I'm losing my mind. What the hell IS this?!

Never watch PBS when you're sick.

I need Vicks.

The lion, the witch and the wardrobe

Finals are over! They were horrid. I have horrid grades. Marketing is still holding out - should be in before I leave. Yep, I'm leaving. On vacation. To Dubai. For three weeks. Hah. Eat yer heart out.

Been having horrid issues with housing and roommates. Take my advice - don't live with undergrads. They're stupid and irresponsible. Well, not my current undergrad housemate. She's nice. And from Hawaii.

Why is there nothing on tele at 7 am?! Oh no, Rachel Ray. Everytime I see Rachel Ray I think of Scott. He was obsessed with her. It was frightening.

I'm going to download the Tide song.

So like, I didn't tell you about the room. In addition to the futon, the desk, the chair and the mattress I now have a bed frame with box springs, another desk and another chair. From the stupid irresponsible undergrad housemate who absconded without paying the rent. And I finally hooked up the tele. Very fun. Now I can lie in bed and groan at the tube. Oo, there's a warm front coming in.

Flying on Saturday. Punjabi munda is supposed to be in NYC. Hope he'll come visit, the skunk. Em left yesterday for Seattle. I'm supposed to go out with the Middle Eastern boys today (Morocco, Egypt and Lebanon representin'!) but I'm too green mucusy. I shall potter around the house and watch pre-Christmas commercials.

The Gnu is also s'posed to be in NYC. Maybe I should go to NYC. No. It's too cold.

Apparently there are new airport security regulations. No cattle prods, ice picks, meat cleavers, pool cues but cigar cutters, eyelash curlers and short scissors are permitted. Ten bucks says I get pulled out for a random check. And underwired bras don't help, let me tell you. The number of people who ogle you when you're been boob-felt by a woman in uniform is fascinating.

Everybody is very upset that Damon has defected to the Yankees. Personally, I don't see the point. People are dying homeless in the streets. Perspective, people.

I have 567 emails in my Yahoo! inbox. They're not spam. Oh blech. Alrighty, let's get this over with.

Fear the Pampers

The Pampers team won from Cohort C. Shelf-stable orange juice from B and Old Spice from D. Went to see the "Best of the best" presentations with the main aim of slashing the other Kimberly-Clark team's plan to shreds (we had toilet paper) but there wasn't any time for audience questions. That was not nice. For a management school, this one's remarkably badly managed.

So anyway. Pampers swept the board with bio-degradable brown toilet paper (I wonder who would buy brown tp) and I toddled off home to study for finals. So close. The term is almost over.