No, no, of course my feet don't hurt... plonk

Ok, so I don't really plonk when I fall down but I got tired of thud.

Such lovely weather. Fog as far as the eye can see which is not far given there's fog as far as the eye can see…

CRO investor conference webinar today. Bank large complicated RFI to be filled in before week's end. Possible PMO work at SOZE! All things that at the surface sound very boring but if you think about them hard turn out to be not so bad actually. Absolutely nothing happening in the CME or mobile space which of course is my core focus but such is the life of a brain for hire. We go where there is fish.

Feets quite bad but it is only I to blame for I may have brought upon evil eye by going around saying "my feet don't hurt". That and I walked back (and forth) from Harvard Square on cobblystones (damn things) on Saturday. And stood for about an hour at the wine tasting at Central Bottle yesterday. They served, among other things, 1) semolina pasta tossed with lemon, salt, butter and thyme and, 2) hazelnuts rolled in honey from bees who feed on avocado plants and dipped in dark chocolate. It is the nuts after they have been rolled in honey, not the bees, that are dipped. Very nice.

First acupuncture appointment today with PJ for the plantar fasciitis. Wish us luck. We are scared. We don't like pain. Or needles. Especially needles that cause pain.

Plants growing out of their pots and will have to be repotted into bigger ones soon. Very thrilling.

BBQ at Big Nick's on Saturday to which I will take the train because I intend to get happy drunk on wine coolers - such fun.

First violin lesson on Sunday for which I will need the following items - music stand, Suzuki Book 1, metronome with attached tuner and staff paper - all of which seem like needless expenses but I shall buy anyway because Alexis the Violin Teacher scares me a little.

The Complete Plays of George Bernard Shaw belonging to one dead grandfather unearthed from pile of books and given to book binder to resurrect - it's like getting something new that's also something (very) old. Book binder is slightly insane man named Robert Walker who likes to throw his patents for various medical devices (and a cigarette filter) in your face when you walk in the door. He put the word "horses" next to my name on the receipt. I don't quite know what to think about that. Sadly, I did not take a before picture. I shall post an after one.

I sit on my balcony smelling faintly of Bengay sipping homemade mocha marvelling at the wireless reception.

The first snow of the season is falling

It's got fat flakes too. The kind that makes you want to catch it when you're gingerly walking on your way to brunch to kill the hangover you've got and feel better about your bruised knee caused by falling 3 times this week since you have no balancing skills when you've been drinking copious amounts of very bad for you drinks because you have a mistaken sense of confidence in being able to handle your liquor brought about by a fantastic hairstyle.

Isn't it nice, the first snow of the season?

"Remember, you can always find East by staring directly at the sun"

It's a bit funny but I just noticed that the view out of my living room window looking at the blue sky with clouds looks EXACTLY like the opening frame in The Simpsons show.

"My engineer spends 70% of his time on data and 70% on voice"

So like, here I am again. The only time I get to blog is when I'm stuck at the airport waiting for a flight to land so mine can take off. And such is the case today. There was this teeny bit of torrential rainfall at 3:30 so my 6 pm flight is delayed 2 hours. This is because since it was raining, no flights could land in Atlanta. Which somehow means that no flights could take off from Charleston, South Carolina to land in Atlanta to take me to Boston. Why is this? Why do flights not take off if their destination is being rained on? Do they not know that by the time they are ready to land, the clouds will have moved on? Don't we have weather systems to predict this? Aren't there people who make weather their day jobs?

It's all very suspicious.

Well, let's see. Wot have I been up to. Well, I moved in to the new place. Everything is still in boxes and hopefully will get sorted this weekend. Went white water rafting on the Dead River in Maine on Labor Day weekend which was fun. Rented a car and went for a drive-about to Lexington last weekend to Sleepy Mouse's end of summer party. Caught an impromptu movie on the way back (Chak de India) (wasn't bad).

The Atlanta engagement is getting hairier by the hour. Systems are deployed and have to be patched because they have a bug. Other Systems just decide to randomly topple over. It's all very challenging. The Director changes his mind every other day. That's even more challenging. I'm trying to get out of there before the Network dies or some silliness of that sort happens. Aiming for end of next week but I might be extended for some eTOM/NGOSS funkiness for a couple of weeks thereafter.

On the plus side, by the end of next week, I'll get Gold status at Starwood Hotels. I will have to endure the Sheraton for two nights though. Still, shouldn't be that bad.

I should unpack the boxes if only to get at the many books I still haven't read. I could breeze through an entire box in no time if flights keep doing this to me.

Should prolly have a house-warming soon. Will you come?

Didja miss me?! Huh? Huh? Didja?

Look listen, before you get on my case for being a statistic, let me impress upon you the stresses of a travelling consultant. There are plenty. And stressful too.

So lets see, wot have I been up to. Well, since the new job started, I had been whining about being off the clock because while it was nice to take long leisurely lunches with Khan, it was starting to get annoying having to rip the cobwebs off my feet and someone must have overheard becuase next thing I know, He Who Looks Like Sleepy Mouse is shipping me off to Atlanta to shadow on a client site. Very nice I think to myself. Off I go and bang, I get sold. So now it's Atlanta till the end of September. I leave at the crack of bleedin' dawn on Mondays and I stagger back home on Thursday nights leaving me Fridays to make sure my access still works at the Bosotn office and hang out with Khan on the weekends. The travel takes a little getting used to. I have now joined the hordes of travelling consultants who, the moment the fasten seatbelt sign has been switched off, reach for their laptops and in the eerie blue glow work on complicated looking spreadsheets. And it's always spreadsheets you notice? Never anything else. Just to be different, I worked on Visio diagrams instead. Just let them try to pigeon-hole me now!

I stay at the Westin in Buckhead (you simply must say that out loud in a Southern accent like so - Buuukhayed) which is very lovely hotel overlooking the Lenox Square area where there are such fine establishments such as Macys, Bloomingdales and Computer Depot. Thanks to Starwoods, I get the coveted pink key to the executive lounge, that haven of free breakfast, booze and dessert. Always a joy to stay at a Westin. I highly encourage it. And I'll bet you didn't know that the Heavenly concept came out of an MBA case competition.

Today has been a stressful day. I landed in Boston last night from Atlanta and took the day off today. Not to put my toesies up (or in soaking hot water because by god they need it) but to run around in 95 degree weather looking for a place to live come next year. And after many a disappointing visit, I am pleased to report that I have found me one. Apartment that is. In Central Square. On Mass Ave. Next to a communist pub. It's a largish affair with a balcony the size of my ego on the 10th floor with lovely views. Hopefully the skunk that's in there now will leave before Aug 31 and they can clean it for me and I don't have to cancel the movers. Keep your fingers crossed (release them if they turn blue).

I did get jipped on the price though. Paying through my nose AND had to fork over a broker fee. This world is not fair sometimes. But still, at least I won't be homeless again.

I'm at the airpot now and thanks to the wonders of iPass have replied to important email, ignored the calls to send in work and am booking my flights to Atlanta for the next month. This way I can be ensured that elusive window seat.

I have done something rather stupid in that in the rush to pack and get to the airport in time to beat the Red Sox traffic, I've forgotten to pack my laptop docking station which means I have no disk drive thereby rendering the DVD I had to watch on the plane, useless. I shall now have to buy a book. Any recommendations? Better make 'em quick - flight leaves in 2 hours.

Yes, I'm actually 2 hours early for my flight. Lets just say I got tired of running from security to the other end of the blasted airport with 3 minutes to final call all this last month. Plus I swear this is the first time the check-in line was not spilling over around the block.

Oo, better find the money exchange and get some pounds. That's right, I forgot to mention where I was going. Sunny London. Only apparently its not sunny there at all, something I find out when I check the weather at Logan airport after I've checked in my bags and realize that I've packed rubbish clothes for the trip. Oh well, Marks and Spencer it is.

Pops, Mum and Black Cobra are in London fresh off their Norweigian cruise. They very kindly twisted the knife into my heart about not being there and sent me a postcard from the northernmost habitable point in the world in which aurora borealis was nicely mentioned. Blast it, I should have taken the summer off. Oh well. Such is life.

Lets see, anything else? That's pretty much it I think. The rest is all mundane everyday stuff which isn't that interesting anyway. Wouldn't want to risk putting Connecticut Yankees to sleep and all.

I do have to say that I miss Khan in all this. Wish I could take him with me but sadly his 6'2" frame stubboarnly refuses to fit in my carry-on. Should learn to sleep on planes so am not so tired when I land so I can hang out with him. I haven't really been able to enjoy the Boston summer with all the concerts and things in the parks. But then again, such is life.

Some poor sod's missed their flight to Ireland on Air Lingus (giggle). There's a woman over there teaching her son the correct French way to say Au Bon Pain. There's a woman sitting across from me who has fallen asleep and I'll bet you she was supposed to be on that Dublin flight. There goes another kid with those wheely shoes. I should get me a pair of those. Why aren't there any spas at airports? I really could use a pedicure and a foot massage.

Oh, did I mention, I went to The Police reunion concert at Fenway? It was brillant.

So, didja miss me?

Who reads Page 3?

Have you noticed this about the Gulf News Tabloid - there are lots of pictures of people on pages 3-6. Everyday. At some random event. There are a lot of smiley faces. Of all types. And all the people are captioned by their first name. Shelly and Richard. Robert and Madhu. Tina, Sudha and Miriam. Abdul and Abbas. Tell me something. Who are these people? Why are they in the paper? Are they close personal friends of Gulf News? Additionally, and this is the important one, why do I have to see their shiny boothas in the paper? Can this real estate not be used for a better purpose? Like an expose on seals and their fishing habits or something. Maybe a picture of a lion eating a hyena. I mean, one is as random as the other so you might as well show us something remotely interesting. Who reads page 3?

I've been busy lately. About halfway through the stamps, Pops decides to clean out the picture collection that we have stuffed in the drawer in the absolute last corner-end of the house. The reason why we put them there to begin with was because we didn't want to deal with them but with Mum gone, Pops couldn't resist the urge to throw some junk out of the house. That and it was Friday and he was bored. Why, then, since he was the one bored, did he not do it himself and dump it on my desk is beyond me. But that is how it happened. And then we went looking for proper photo albums to put the blasted things in. Which was a bad idea at 1 pm on a Friday afternoon with nothing to eat since my food intake is being regulated because everybody and their uncle is concerned about the latest (albeit temporary) weight gain since good boys don't want to marry fat girls and one thing led to another and I promptly contracted some form of heat stroke combined with a tea bag effect with a dip in glucose levels and had to be brought back home and laid in bed with fans blowing and my toesies in ice water. At which point Pops says in his most plaintive voice, "Do you think I'm too controlling? Because I can always stop." This is after he yells at me for being weak, tells me how he's not weak even with a bad heart, assures me that I'm a worthless person and how he must suffer because of it.

The heat stroke business resulted in two days of migraines because of which I was rather useless to the general public so it was for the best that Mum was away because we all know wot's it like trying to relax around her.

Mum has returned. I'm done with the pictures and have put them away. She's cleaning. I'm trying to stay away from her. She follows me with the Hoover. It is not helping my headache. I have put the stamps away since they were not helping my headache either. Pops sneaked out the house and let me to my fate. Abandoned by my own. Tch. Life.

Now would be a good time to find some friends and get out.

Oh fer Pete's sake

The strange thing about being done with finals is that one is besieged with conflicting emotions. On one hand, we're pleased we don't have to study anymore. On the other hand, we're bored out of our minds. Yes, I know it's only been a few days but I can't just sit around with nothing to do.

Wednesday evening celebrations started at Cornwalls (where else), moved on to An Tua Nua with some very bad singing on the karaoke and then back to Cornwalls (where else). I should have bought stock in that place. Didn't drink much since was still a bit hungover from the day before (which would explain the C I get on that final) and pottered on home at 10:30. Did brunch at the diner with Khan on Thursday, bummed around, drank some more. Went for a whisky tasting at the Lenox with Peter and a few others. That was fun. I was ushered into the room by a screamingly gay waiter in pink underwear under his requisition blacks prancing around with a giant white feather. A Chivas Ginger was thrust into my hand, a crab cake into my face and the party was on. Glitter bikini-clad women with giant feathers on their heads popped up and jiggled around much to the delight of all the sad suits and the cabana boys obliged the other sad suits. Can I just say, there's nothing sadder than a 35-yr old investment banker who desperately wants to get laid. Man or woman. I did learn a little bit about whisky and a few very bad Scottish jokes (Why do Scotsmen chop their toes off? To get closer to the bar) and got to sample some 18-yr old Scotch. Very nice. Then Peter and I couldn't take the man in the skirt yelling at DJ Certified Bananas to "pump up the volume, you slimy bastard" anymore and we pottered off to the Hong Kong at Fanueil Hall. On the way out we bumped into Mr. and Mrs. Shaw, freshly arrived from Scotland, a lovely 70-ish year old couple, all wrinkly and kind looking who Peter promptly told to go to Newport, RI and leave the wife at home. After this piece of shocking behaviour we giggled our way to Government Center where at the Hong Kong, more booze was consumed while Pete and Aaron (who runs a belly-dancing supplies shop, how exciting) told me stories of floating down rivers in inner tubes of tractor tires carting about 800 cases of beer. These stories proved too much for me at one point and I insisted we play bar-side games and so we spent a massive fortune in quarters at the nekkid wimmen version of Where's Waldo with self always getting the bits about the chick's hair at which point Aaron deemed me unworthy (since I couldn't spot a boob) and shoved me into a taxicab with a teriyaki on a stick. All in all, a good time was had by all.

Did brunch at the diner with Khan on Friday, scorned the drink, bummed around at Harvard Ave Cafe and finally started reading Jews, God and History (Max Dimont), purchased August 2006 at Denver airport but never had time to open. Interesting book. Very complicated. Khan, bless him, ordered a Vanilla Soy Matte which turned out to be the worst piece of crap I've ever tasted that has been served in a cup with foam. If you are ever faced with it, decline. Do so expeditiously and be not lured by curiosity. It's a horrible drink. Dre had her birthday party here last night and while the upside is that the apartment looks very pretty, cosy and clean, the downside is that people decided that they wanted to pop crackers at 3:30 am INSIDE the apartment. This is because they were stupidly drunk and had to be shepherded outside onto the street where they promptly became Someone Else's problem. Didn't sleep very well last night. Had strange dreams. Lay about, reading, mostly. Still is nice to be in bed swiping one's leg against soft cool sheets, know wot I mean? Khan was mumbling something about how marbles are the fifth dimension but he was in a food coma after having visited that den of vice, India Dhaba, so we forgave him. I did watch Anita and Me yesterday on brilliant NetFlix. Good movie. Nicely done.

I couldn't lie in bed anymore so I've moved to the couch. It's gotten windy, cloudy and 59 degrees suddenly. My wind chime by the window has orchestral aspirations and the curtains billow more often than they did yesterday. I shall sit here now, in my jammies, and read my email and watch Saturday morning cartoons with my cuppa sulaimani. Only two things on the official agenda - Swimming and Giselle at the Boston Ballet. That is if I can get tickets. Although considering the rate at which funds are being depleted from underneath my mattress, I prolly should lay low and cheap until Vegas. Oo, that sounded dirty.

Need more tea.

Americans are rather intolerant of nekkidness

Good - Sunshine.
Bad - Dubai's image.
Ugly - Timbaland's Shock Value album.

Valentine's Day

I was rudely woken up by the sound of Meg and her boyfriend being nauseatingly cute and loving in the morning. Why is it that when people are being loving there is giggling involved? Disgusting.

However, my annual distaste for the day was mitigated by Random Lifer making me laugh. Everytime I think back on that conversation, I have a marshmellow craving :)

Weather was hideous and I twisted the damn fool ankle on the way to school (yes, again). However, snow day was announced at 3 pm and extremely boring night class was cancelled. So I came home and spent most of it lazing about on the couch with Khan. All in all, a good Valentine's Day was had. Even if I didn't get any flowers.

BU's Symposium happened last weekend. Nothing notable to note except that one person brought up Web 3.0 which made me go all tingly all over. I shall write my paper on it and then blog about it. Big tings, mate. Big tings.

Officially off till Tuesday morning. Contemplated packing my toothbrush and an icepack and heading off the airport and getting on the first flight to anywhere but realized that would be rather boring all by myself. Salad and Bi want me to visit Seattle and Chicago (respectively) and I think Black Cobra comes up north (if driving conditions get better). I do kinda feel like getting on a plane to land into open arms and good friends and witty conversation and lots of fun. Alternatively, I could do with a date for the Aurora Borealis show this weekend. Who's game?

Foolishly, however, I have agreed to a meeting tomorrow at 1 and the BU MS-MBA Silent Auction on Saturday. However, I could technically blow off the auction and take a flight after the meeting. So. Where should I go?

Music of the moment: RDB

The weather is very strange today

Or maybe I'm experiencing some strange sort of near-mid-life menopause. Sometimes it's cold, sometimes its hot. I don't get it. I take layers off when I'm outside. I put on my giant winter coat when I'm in class. It's very strange.

Also, my parents are mad. My Dad just called to tell me that apparently me Mum has a stomach ache because of Black Cobra's flight timings. She arrives at 6:30 am, I don't see wot they're stressing about. I didn't have the heart to tell them that I arrive at 2:30 am. You would think they would send a car to the airport instead of waking up to come and get me.

Did I mention I'm going to Dubai for a month? I am. In 5 days. 113 hours to be precise. 113 hours from now, I will be on a flight to Athens. Warmer weather. Ah bliss.