I had an interview today

It was awful. I can't stop mumbling. Maybe I need diction lessons. But I've interviewed millions of times. Ok, maybe not millions but plenty enough. They asked me about the one year gap in my resume. I told them a personal family problem made me take a year off work. They looked at me questioningly. I couldn't tell them any more. I said it was a private issue. Then I looked away. I couldn't look at them anymore. I steadily focused on the plastic plant in the room. They moved on to the next question. There were three of them. The short agressive Indian woman intimidated me. I interview so much better with white guys. I can make the prejudice work for me. Brown black and pink guys too. And most women. But not Indian women. They're scary man. They wanted to know why I wanted to work for them. I told them. They didn't get it. I asked them why they wanted to hire me. They couldn't say. They gave me the marketing pitch. If they believe it, they think I will. I won't. It's all so confusing. I'm confused. It's so hard to spin a story around 4 paragraphs. Why? It's my life. I know it inside out. I know more about it than anyone else. Why is it so hard to tell someone about it? I know wot I want. Do I know wot I want? Maybe I don't know wot I want. Dammit, will I ever get the job I want? I hate self-doubt. It's a killer. My Achillies heel. Fear is the killer. Must not fear.

I can't stop trembling. I have the shakes. Like some ex-Club Med junkie. I can't stop. Emily's interview was terrible too. She couldn't divide 10.something by 10.something else. It was awful. Maybe it's a bad day for interviews.

I don't even want this job that bad. I wish I had someone to talk to. You're all at work. Nobody will answer my calls. I really do need someone to talk to. I should get me a therapist. Or maybe a Captain Awesome (and the Wonder Friends) t-shirt to wear inside my maroon suit.

Post post note: I'm in my Systems class and have been talking about GRASP patterns and I'm feeling a lot better for wallowing in my geekiness. Thank you, very nice bald-headed wrestler-type professor. You have very nifty ballet moves.

You will also be pleased to know that my white winter jacket has been returned by drycleaners in spotless condition. Yay Izzy (for women)!

"The cold metal, like a cold heart, does not come in contact with any balls" - Hunter S. Walsh

I have just written 4 nifty macros in TextPad. I'm feeling very pleased with myself.

I rock.

They will take care of it won't they? I mean to say, it IS white.

Ding-ding went the annoying over-the-door chime as I opened the door and slid in.
"Hello", said I.
"Hello yes", said little Chinese woman.
"Do you dryclean?", ask I.
"Enh?" spits little Chinese woman.
"Do you dryclean?", I persist in my pursuit of knowledge.
"Yes, we dryclean shop", affirms little Chinese woman.
"Fair enough, I'm convinced. I need this white jacket drycleaned", I say, courageouly pushing the lovely white winter coat across the counter, heart on sleeve.
"Yes, ok, we dryclean for you", the little Chinese woman grabs the article in question greedily.
"Splendid. You see these stains on the cuffs? Can you remove them?", I venture bravely.
"I not sure. Maybe. Sometime it no come out", says little Chinese woman, trodding painfully on my exposed heart.
"Alright, but can you make sure you pay extra attention to the cuffs?", I beg silently with my dark limpid eyes.
"Maybe. Maybe not." She's rather definite about her stance on the cuff issue.
"Oook. What about the inside? Can you clean the inside of the jacket as well?", say I, standing a clear foot and a half over her, making the distinction between me as customer and she as service provider distinctly felt.
"You want inside? Dry clean only outside", says her of little Chinese origins, very cautiously.
"Yes, I'm aware of that dry clean is only outside. But can you dryclean the inside as well?", persist I. I'm relentless today.
"We clean outside one time. Outside only. One time." You know, in case there was confusion on the issue.
"Yes, well, after you've cleaned it outside one time, you could, turn it inside out and clean it again. Couldn't you?", say I, ever logical.
"You want clean outside one time and then two time?", says she, not understanding the complicated techincality of my request.
"Yes, clean outside one time and then inside two time. Can you do that?" No need to lose my cool. Alls I have to do is speak her language. Soon she'll come around. Nobody can be that unfeeling.
"No no, we only clean one time", she says, unfeelingly.
"Alright, will the one time cleaning take care of the inside?" Perhaps I've been going about this all wrong.
"We dryclean only."
"Nevermind."
Ding-ding went the annoying over-the-door chime as I stormed out of the door.

It's not so bad in here

Happy Thanksgiving all. Lots to be thankful for. Mum, Dad, Black Cobra, friends, Resh, Pooky, Vegas, Walshy, cozy home, furniture, food, money, limbs, clothes, hair, laptop, the Internet, flowers, two-minute noodles, Niku, frozen vegetables, instant hot chocolate, microwave popcorn, the big blue bus, fuzzy warm slippers, MSN, large bedrooms, hardwood floors, big closets, warm winter coats, snappy interview suits, candles, incense, Victoria's Secret, Em, television, movies, bedside lamps, windchimes, toilet paper, mobile phones, satin sheets, big beds and fireplaces. To name a few. You know, I'd be more miserable without these. So I'm thankful for them.

Wot are you thankful for?

It's going to be alright

Took off early yesterday. Couldn't sit through classes. Don't think I can today either. Called in sick. I need a break. This is taking over my life. Yes, I know this is my life but this is not me. I used to be better at this. They've broken me down and made me reconstruct. Or maybe I did that to myself. Baptism by fire. Only I think I didn't make it through unscathed. Bit singed at the edges if you ask me. All the pieces don't quite fit together like they used to. It was meant to be better but now it's gotten worse. Much worse. I'm like a demon. Only not evil. Wot does that make me? Maybe when I go on vacation I'll deflate. But no, I'm going home for my vacation. It'll be very inflating. Well, maybe when I come back I'll deflate. Walked round and round my room telling myself that it'll be alright. Don't panic. It'll all be alright. That's when it hit me. I'm having a panic attack. I hyperventilated into my closet and sat with my shoes, telling them not to worry, I'd take care of them. I'll take care of everything. I can't. I lied. I lied to the boots and to the pumps. It's ok to fail. It's not my responsibility to make sure everything is perfect. Perfection is not required. Just get the job done. Try and have fun. But you're not having fun are you? You've haven't had an ounce of fun since you got here. Since you started this escapade. Stop it. Don't start panicking again. It's not that bad. It'll fix itself. It has to. The alternative is not an option. I'm not going to lose my mind. It's the only thing I've got left. Everything's going to be alright.

Yes, I'm better today

I'm not quite as morose. Things are a little bit better. More calm. I'm afraid it's all going to blow up in my face again but other than that, I'm alright.

Although, in unrelated news, I do think I'm coming down with the flu.

Thank you, Resh.

It's all going to be alright

Numb. Like being underwater. Everything moves in slow motion underwater. People speak in bubbles and you think you should understand wot they're saying because it's in English and you... well you speak it.. but you don't. Sometimes your eyes swell up so much they won't open. And your face feels like a puffed cheese ball. Went for a long walk. Went to a few places before decided on the Union. Strangely enough, he walked in a minute after. Just coming from his long walk. We sat there and laughed for a while. The situation was so sad it was almost ridiculous. I suppose this is life's way of saying don't cry, it'll be alright.

Ah the joys of public transportation

Don't you just hate it when you have to sit through an entire train ride with an old man sitting across from you trying not to stare at your face. You know he's looking and he gives you sympathetic smiles because he's thinking to himself if I could only speak to her, if social norms didn't prohibit talking to strangers on the train, I'd tell her that it gets better. That it's not the end. That there is light at the end of the tunnel. And the young hip chick with her fake Prada bag and torn stockings sucking on the tonsils of her greasy goth boyfriend looks at your oversized sweater and puffy eyes and unkempt hair and knows you're listening to the blues with a one way ticket to heartbreak hotel. I'm better than you, she's thinking. I have a man. Watch me investigate the innards of his throat.

Mouton Cadet Bordeaux, 2000

Sometimes life is a waste of a Saturday night with nothing better to do than sit at your desk champagne glass in hand dressed to the nines playing Checkers online while your mascara runs down your face waiting for the phone to ring. Have you ever felt so pathetic that you wanted to leave? Just leave. Walk out the door and never return. Start anew elsewhere. And the only thing that stops you from doing that is the knowledge that this could happen again. What if it happens again? Then where will I be? Weeping my eyes out again, that's where. Reduced to a pile of sodden tissues. Why do I let them do this to me?

I think I'll get completely plastered now, thank you.

Casino Royale - 8 thumbs up

Played hooky today and went to see Casino Royale with James, Bryan Adams and Pey. Very good movie. Highly recommended. Daniel Craig is gorgeous. He has the thighs of a god. The stunts are frickin' awesome. The one-liners are brilliant. That movie is so good, I'd buy it.

The happy bits in the movie (don't worry, I won't ruin it for you) were about 20 minutes longer than they should have been but can I just say, the scenes with Craig and Eva Green (the shower scene and the drowning scene) made me absolutely ache inside. No, really, they did. Daniel Craig is actually a very good actor. He does sometimes look like his face is stuck in a perpetual moue but there's something about him that makes his acting compelling. I can't quite pin it down. I think it's the eyes. They're very reflective. Perhaps it's the fact that he doesn't smile much and then when he does, it's so beautifully eye-poppingly spontaneous that you believe it's real.

The clothes in that movie are lovely. It made me fell like such a frump in my jeans. Craig's wardrobe person deserves an award or something. The music was mediocre. It did the job. The opening number for previous Bond movies have been so strong, this one just seemed lacking. The locations were snappy. The casting for the bad guys was very good. The nakedness was... well, not enough. Eva Green's makeup (and accent) was atrocious. The fight scenes are very nicely directed. The website is fairly annoying. Every click seems to open a new window. Which is daft. If you're going to first launch a new browser window to a Flash website then why do your links launch further browsers for HTML content? Daft. Also saw the trailer for the new Spiderman movie. Dude! I think I had a mini orgasm. Well then Daniel Craig came on screen and I had about 18 more.

I shall see it again soon.

Went to eat at that Turkish place with Pey after and reminisced about the good old days when there was a diner in every neighborhood. Decided to form a 'Bring back the Diner' action group but then decided that we were too lazy. Went to the grocery store after to get cake because Pey wanted dessert. He then proceeded to make suggestives moves on a box of unsuspecting mini carrot cakes while I ogled the shinyness of the chocolate cream rolls. We ended up getting a bundt cake and Propel water.

Was s'posed to go to Avalon to see Cedric Gervais play with the Eastern Bloc but didn't get much sleep last night (thanks to Random Lifer) (btw, I'm sorry I fell asleep in the middle of a conversation - it was rather odd that you were still there 2 hours later) so decided not to.

Watching Jeopardy, the college edition. There's this wicked smart desi guy on from I don't know where but Pico from Stanford makes me wanna take cold showers. Dude, I don't know if you've seen this show but they guys know a helluva lot.

I shall now finally watch Munich.

I hate the word 'diaspora'

I'm particularly tired of it being used in the context of the Indian subcontinent. Yes, Indians move out of India. They've been doing it for more than a century now. Get used to it. It's hardly diasporic now. People have settled down. Grown new roots. Some of us don't live in India anymore. About time people got used to it. And why the hell do people keep emailing me articles about the damn Indian diaspora?! I bet you they've keyword tagged it in Google or something and trigger email me anytime there's an article written on the subject. I know the diaspora. I'm part of it. Leave me alone.

In other news,

Soaring rents in Dubai have led to accommodation being offered in exchange for sex, according to a report by Gulf News. It found that adverts were targeting young, single European women with the promise of lower rents in return for favours. Rents in some areas have increased by 50% in the last twelve months.

as reported by AME.

Can't get out of bed

So tired. No sleep. Right hip hurts. It's going to rain today. Have class at 11. Can't get out of bed. Yawn. S t r e t c h.

Feel like something fun this weekend. Black Cobra wants to go to D.C. or Connecticut. I think I want to go to Maine. Or maybe we'll just potter around Boston. Any suggestions on wot to do this cloudy, rainy, cold weekend?

Angoor

"Bahadur, jabh maine tujhe kaha tha ke kamre se bahar mat nikalna, to tu zabzi mandi kyon gaya tha?!"

"Mooli lene"

"Mooli kyon lene gaya tha?!"

"Aap ne hi to kaha tha, ke shaam ko mooli ke parathe khane hain."

"Mooli ke... MOOLI KE PARATHE?!"

Kis kadar yeh haseen yeh khayaal mila hai.. rah mein ek reshmi rumaal mila hai..

I love my bed.

I like leaping out of it in the morning, ready to check my email, read my news, turn on the tele, look up the weather, do my Sudoku, wash my hair, wear red plaid skirts with long black blouses tall red boots homemade glass bead earrings and long black coats, put my funky dj headphones on and head out to life. I like walking briskly over city sidewalks littered with Fall leaves. Sitting in the train looking out the window thinking over last night's dreams of killer fava beans and email lists. I don't like boring classes full of techno-speak and arguing with bald wrestler-type professors over syntax and convention. I like walking with my friends to UBurger for lunch and laughing the entire way. I like it when the chap behind the counter yells out "Hot Chick!" when my order is up. I don't like sitting through an hour and a half of income tax preparation but I do enjoy reading an annual report to "look for the sleaze in the company". I like running from one meeting to another being productive and important and loud with my tall red boots resounding on the tiled floor. I do enjoy evaluating media campaigns and coming up with them. I like the Dew Dudes. I used to like Fido Dido too. I like walking briskly in the windy wind with my skirt lapping at my calves. I like egg rolls immensely. I don't like the spaghetti in my head. I like coming home to a clean room and feeling glad about being single so no one can ruin the serene calmness of my space. I like it when the girls take the trash out so I don't have to walk back down two flights of stairs and back up again. I like my crisp sheets and the smell of incense filling up my sleepy nostrils. I like how you keep coming back to my blog. First thing in the morning, twice again during the day and then when you're home from work. And then you come back again later in the evening. But you don't spend much time on it. Almost as if you're disappointed at the content. Not good enough you're saying to yourself. Random news articles again. Some mundane shit. But nothing I can really sink my teeth into. Oh yes, I can hear you. Your clicks say a lot to me. I can read clicks, I can. If I could expostulate (if expostulate is the word I want) this talent into reading tea leaves perhaps I could make five bucks from every passerby who wants her fortune read. No wait. I don't have any purple skirts or silver jewellery. I do like making my own jewellery. I like lying here in bed anticipating sleep. Stretching my legs out and owning the double feng shueiness of my mattress. I like the excitement of loading my Gmail looking for email from you. I don't like being disappointed when I find there is none. Sometimes I wonder about you. I don't like looking in the mirror and finding out that somehow age and all those bad food choices have caught up with me. I try not to look in the mirror. It's not a pretty sight. There's a strange non-pimple bump on my cleavage. Or is that in my cleavage? It won't go away. Mars the landscape so to speak. I like my white wispy curtains. I should watch Munich and return it to the good folks at Netflix so they can pass it on to some other deserving poor. I like my wind chimes hanging by my bed. Sometimes when I wake up in the middle of the night to go pee I tinkle them before I go back to sleep. I like how when I get home and let my hair down it curls softly at my neck. I like combing them through. I don't like lying in bed waiting for sleep. Tossing and turning and not finding it. I don't like the loneliness that inevitably accompanies insomnia. I don't like getting out of bed at 3 am to read a case that I don't understand because my mind is tired but my body won't cooperate. Or sometimes it's the other way around.

But I do love my bed.

Dinner

Who's up for Bertucci's tonight? Email me.

"Don't be a waiter. Be a chef." - David Lubars

Lubars popped down to his alma today to speak at Conversations with Comm. The room was packed with Comm. undergrads (mostly girls), all blonde, pig-tailed and Ugg-booted toting Macs and looking seriously creative. It was fun. I love it when creative types give presentations. The slides are much more interesting. I think I'm going to adopt that format for my next presentation. Cream background with black typewriter type, one sentence a slide. Lubars actually plugged Phil Dusenberry's book 'Then we set his hair on fire' (which I highly recommend, btw). very enjoyable.

I'm listening to Alanis Morisette. Only she's not screaming angrily about her tofu turning or having affairs with married men or pimple angst or wotever it is that she usually sings about. This is almost akin to pop. Or is it rock? I can't tell. I'm just in shock of hearing Morizette's voice not screaming maniacally about spoons and other assorted cutlery. Most of it is pretty bad. This one song isn't so bad. Now is the time is the album. Has a certain Flashdance-like element to it. Very 80s.

Saw Borat the other day. Please don't waste your $10 on it. It's a perfectly useless movie.

I've lost all respect for Anand Jon

I used to think he was hip and happening especially after meeting him at HBS's SABA. Now I just think he's a moron. I mean, I get that Paris Hilton draws crowds which is good if you're trying to sell clothes that don't usually sell but this is beyond moronic.

Hotel heiress Paris Hilton is to model for an upmarket American fashion line in India next year despite her music video being banned in the country for being too explicit, a newspaper report said on Monday.

The 25-year-old heiress to the Hilton hotel fortune will shoot for her friend, Anand Jon, an American fashion designer of Indian descent who is introducing a line of high-end evening wear for India's stylish elite.

"Paris is a very close friend of mine. We have known each other for a long time now. So, when I told her about this visit, she was pretty excited," the Times of India quoted Jon as saying.

"For her, India is the land of exotica and beauty. In fact, her response was: 'I finally get to visit the exotic'. She loves Indian culture and the Indian influence on clothes," he said.

As usual Adrants gets it bang on.

Paris Hilton Tapped as Ambassador to India
Well no, not really, unless you think vacuous infamy exerts the same social influence as political diplomacy.

*long pause*

She's actually going to appear in an Indian campaign to introduce a new fashion line from Anand Jon, an American fashion designer of Indian descent. Moving on, AdJab points out Hilton's music video was recently banned from Indian airwaves but her sex tape is still widely available for under $2. AdJab adds "I'm not sure what's more embarrassing, having your sex video available to the public or the fact that it costs less than a king size Snicker's bar."

Provocative point. We're sure it won't hurt her modeling career. It might even help. Don't models do dumb shit all the time? - Contributed by Angela Natividad

How does this work?

As part of its partnership with the Susan G Koman Breast Canver Foundation, Ford has teamed with the organization's Race For The Cure Virtual Quilt project which allows people to create their own message on the quilt. JWT Detroit along with interactive firm Firstborn created the project to coincide with this month's Breast Cancer Awareness Month.

Explain this to me. How does this aid the Breast Cancer cause? I mean, awareness is all well and good but at some point isn't the aim to get money into these foundations that work on research to solve these medical problems? All gimmicks I think. Publicity stunt. How come people don't catch on to this?

I want this

Sonos is the first wireless, multi-room digital music system that lets you play digital music all over your house—and control it all from the palm of your hand. With a wireless Sonos® Controller in hand, you'll have plug-and-play access to millions of songs—from music services, Internet radio, your personal digital music collection, or all of the above.

And, with Sonos® ZonePlayers in the rooms of your choice, you can play the same song in different rooms, or different songs in different rooms. To start listening, just grab the full-color Controller and simply pick a room, pick a song and hit play.

Buy it for me.

I got a 68 on my Systems midterm

I. Me. ME!!! I got a 68 on my Systems midterm! How is this even possible?! This is not possible!

I'm going to go yell at my professor now.

Ok, who rang me at 4:45 am?

Didn't leave a message. Woke me up. Blank caller ID.

Thank you for waking me. I overslept my alarm.

Interview was alright. Good questions were asked. Good answers were given (if I do say so). Now we shall see.

Walked into my DB mgmt class 10 minutes late and was rendered confused by strange Chinese man talking about something that seemed important. He had code up on the screen and was making boxes on the blackboard. I didn't understand a word he said for the next 40 minutes. It disturbed me greatly. Then he suddenly stopped talking and said something (which I suppose was a joke) and then he laughed. To pin-drop silence. Then he stood there and stared at us for about 20 minutes. I felt his pain. I would have offered to help him through it but I was afraid he would talk to me and I wouldn't understand him. He was smiling so I suppose he wasn't too uncomfortable. Smiling at some private joke about ASP.NET in his head. Very strange.

If you're a professor, here's a tip, make sure the server is up before you send a TA to teach your class. The poor chap can't do much once he's actually in class.

I'm wearing my grey suit with the pink striped shirt and I KNOW Kunal will wear the same thing. I must message him and tell him not to. We'll be the desi twins that applied for the same job wearing the same clothes. Maybe the interviewer will think I'm back only this time as a man. You know, double my chances of getting the job. Very disturbing.

I shall now read for my 2 pm.

Tums don't work. I use Zantac.

Blogger's gone to Google. Very nifty. Spent 3 hours on the IMC marketing campaign. Clark Kent, while easy on the eyes, is perfectly useless. Tired. Watching that show on the tele with the investigators. Not CSI. The other one. That Hispanic woman is hot. Ugly man was sneakily drugged with scotch. Need dinner. Hungry. Too tired to make dinner. Should order in. Alls I wants is to go to bed.

Went to HBS's Cyberposium yesterday. Should've gone to the Marketing one today but was too tired. Apparently free stuff was being thrown around during Victoria's Secret commercials. Have applied for job at Cirque du Soleil. Drat, have interview tomorrow. Must iron pin-striped suit.

Want to go to Paris. And Sikkim.

Sushi would be nice right about now. Don't suppose one of you lurvelys want to show up with lots of maki?

Wotever happened to Doogie Howser, M.D?

I have a 50 page article to read for tomorrow. Identity theft did not lead to fraud, btw. All one big misunderstanding.

So does this mean you've bookmarked me now?

Now if I only knew who you are. I don't know anyone in New Haven, CT. Do I?

Found me through Tamiami, didn't you? Had a lot of time on Wednesday last to read nearly a year's worth of blog posts. Forgot me on Saturday last and had to search but found me alright on Monday. Did you enjoy the blog? You know it's rude - you know all about me but I don't know about you. That's wot the comments are for, you know. And I promise, I won't use the fact that you use a Mac against you. Well, maybe, ok, just a little bit.

Come out come out whoever you are. Can't hide behind Comcast forever.

Ok, that sounded creepy.

On a side note, I am now officially a victim of identity fraud. Details to come.

MSIS, MBA-Marketing, Strategy and Business Analysis

That is going to be my official dual degree. Hah bloody hah! I got all the classes I want for next term and lovely lovely SBA department has approved an elective switch. So in summary, I will be taking -
1. Mastering IT Strategy, Management and Delivery
2. Project Management (yes, I know I don't need this one but it was either this or Technology Tools for e-Business)
3. Competitive Decision Making
4. Global Strategic Marketing
5. Product and Brand Management
6. Managing Technology, Country, Political and Environment Risk

That makes 6 classes. And then there's the Mobile Marketing project and the job with the biometrics company plus the fact that I will prolly be looking for a full-time PAYING job as well. You think I'm stressed now, wait till next term.

Booyah! I get two concentrations! Yahoo!

Oh, and I have an interview with a consulting firm on Monday. No, I won't say which.

I should wear warmer socks

The good thing about Election Day is that there won't be anymore crappy political ads on the tele anymore. Man, those things are annoying.

Yesterday my neck, back and shoulders hurt so much that when I got into bed I thanked the Good Lord out loud that I had the Sears' Feng Shui mattress. Promptly fell asleep and didn't wake until 8 hours had passed. I had a dirty dream about a tall chap who left me an origami heart on my pillow in the morning. Sadly, when I woke, there wasn't one. But all the pain was gone. Lovely, lurrrvely.

Today has been another harried day. I'm in my IMC class now. She's wearing a large purple tent. The Communist isn't in class today. Did I mention there's a Russian Communist girl in my IMC class who just won't shut up. It's amazing. There must be nothing she has no opinion on. To her credit, she does know a lot of things.

My neck, back and shoulders hurt again. I'm looking forward to going to bed. Tall origami man would be a bonus.

Can I just say that I don't get all these people harping on and on about how the Mac OS is better than the Windows OS. I don't see the Mac OS running half the programs I couldn't do without, it's slow, clunky, hard to recover when it freezes up, has poor memory allocation. I mean it has its uses for the creative types but isn't necessarily a better OS. I'm also particularly tired of advertising types going on and on about this. Dude, it's not like you're going to convert me. I like my Windows. I'm not going to switch. Deal with it.

One of the Taiwanese kids just asked if the Canadians feel inferior to Americans. Too funny. I must add that we're doing the Molson Canadian - The Rant case. The professor sitting fatly in her purple tent replied, "I don't know what sort of issues are going on up there. Canada may just need a good shrink."

Also, I don't know if you know this, but I'm addicted to Gatorade. I eat breakfast and dinner and in between I suck down the 'ade like there's no tomorrow. Like it's going out of style. Like we're all going to die and this stuff is the only thing that will save us. Which, you know, may very well be the case.

I speak on my phone for an average of 1,697 minutes per month. That's about an hour a day. And I'm paying close to $100 a month for this. That's 5 cents a minute. Is that good?

I have only 2 gigs of hard disk space left

Because the rest of it is currently occupied storing over 1000 songs, most from Black Cobra's iPod and some from Kataria's iPod. I've been going over them one by one to debate if I want to keep them for my own listening pleasure. On my iRiver. Yes, that's right, I have a non-iPod mp3 device. Why? Because iPods suck. They're big and ugly and break when you drop them. This one I've flung across the room many a time (mostly when I get home from another tiring day at MBAWorld and explode out of my clothes). There are songs in here that you would kill to have. Like 'main se meena se na saaqi se' and 'baat hai yeh mamoolie, joooolieeee, i love ju'. No, seriously man, Black Cobra, you need to really upgrade your taste in music.

I have reloaded trustly iRiver with MC Solaar and Afro Celt.

So I've been on this couch all day, in my pink jammies and fuzzy slippers, working on papers. Dre and Megan are not in and the place is dead silent. I was talking to myself earlier just to test my hearing. It's getting a little boring.

So like, I have this large complicated intense paper to write for my Strategy class and I'm so stuck for inspiration. Think I'll play a game until 6. Damn procrastination.

I want to go to the Boston Bhangra thing. If I could only find someone to go with.

Niku is in India buying up Nainital candles like they're going out of style. Wot are the chances I'll actually get some?

Say, Niku! Wanna go with me to the Boston Bhangra thing?!

Boys suck.

And that's all I have to say on the subject.