Gangaram has just emptied the vaccum cleaner canister onto the floor because it was full. And now he's going to vaccum it up.
Jenga couldn't paint in a straight line to save his life. I had to climb up on a stool to show him how to do the bathroom ceiling.
And then you wonder why I want to beat people on the head repeatedly.
So like I had a very boring day yesterday.
Was up and about bright and early to go grocery shopping at the new Fish Market area (well, it's new to me!) opposite the Gold Souk. Didn't get there. RK called to divert us to the airport. So off we went to the airport to pick up some people we didn't know. Then back to Emirates Hills. Then to Jebel Ali (the problem with riding in limos is that you always have to climb over people to get inside). Then to the Grand Hyatt Hotel for a meeting with a suspicious-looking Sardar. The Grand Hyatt is lovely. Very lovely. See for yourself. (Take a look at all the pictures. You'll be glad you did). Then off to the airport again to drop off RK who's on his way to Beirut (yes, the one in Lebanon) (yes, people actually do go to places like Lebanon and Syria). Then back to Emirates Hills to pick up the car and be dropped off home. 8 am to 6 pm. Driving all over town. S T R E T C H. I could have done that in the limo.
It's not quite as big as the ones we had in Vegas but quite nice nonetheless. I couldn't get the DVD player to work though. So that made for a rather boring day in all.
I shall remember to take the camera out and take pictures next time I'm out and about.
And Vegas got nothing over Dubai.
This is because my scalp has been hot-oil massaged. Parachute bottles are a lot nicer now with their international pack. Why don't we get this in the US?
Links et al - (this feature of the daily Wolfie newsletter will be discontinued unless I get plenty of comments suggesting otherwise. C'mon people. Let your voice be heard.)
I should get this helmet just for kicks.
The best people and how to hire them.
It would be awesome if the RadioShark would pick up Internet radio. It's rather pointless otherwise.
Gangaram gave me a very disappointed look when I told him that all the cotton wipes were in the wash. I think he had his heart set on polishing the woodwork.
You know, I never did think about the impact of the Internet on my mother. She can now read a lot more horoscope pages. At the speed of broadband. Isn't that awesome?
CEO Paychecks. Daym.
I've uninstalled AOL Instant Messenger. There's no point. The software is rubbish. I can never connect. Those of you who were on my list get Yahoo! Messenger or MSN.
The Sonos Digital Music System. I've seen better ones installed but this one seems rather decent for the price. Can you say Bang & Olufsen fast five times?
Beatles - Lucille. Brilliant number.
Don't choke the flow of immigrants. I agree. Let us in!
Do you agree with Liz Ryan's assessment of why there are so few women running companies? I don't. In fact, I've been following Mz. Ryan's career closely and she's really starting to p*ss me off.
Have you really ever listened to the words of Yellow Submarine by the Beatles? It makes no sense. And nobody noticed that they were prolly stoned upto their eyebrows when they made their music? Also, why is it that people who are stoned (and or bind or deaf) when they make music make such good music and are therefore popular? Does this mean that the human mind can only attain lofly musical heights when not operating under normal, unstressful conditions?
Free digital television broadcasting?! Oh the horror!
Ok. Have to go wash this gunk off my head. Yesterday it was pink cupcake cravings and now coconut chocolate. Tch.
Stupid people with their stupid parathas. So very irritated now. Have decided not to talk to Dad unless spoken to.
So we went for dinner in Emirates Hills tonight. Where I sat next to a woman in a black salwar-kameez with a faux fur-lined dupatta (veil). I foolishly decided to sit outside by the pool for a while cuz it's a nice night and now i've been bitten again. Damn mosquitoes.
I did get to drive back home. However I had to stick to 80 kmph because Mum was gripping the sides of her seat and hissing sharply everytime a car passed us by. And if you're going at 80 on Sh. Zayed Road, there are a lot of cars passing you by given that the speed limit is 100 kmph. Nice ride the Lexus.
So ask me why I'm so pleased. This is because I've found the mattress I used to sleep on. And I've made my little bed on the floor of the study (much to Mum's chagrin) like the good ole days. And I'm sitting here propped up with many pillows with my laptop on my lap and a song in my heart. Why the song Wolfie, you ask? This is because the BU application is finally complete. The recos are in. The doors have been closed. The committee is under deliberation. Say a little prayer for me.
Right. Look listen, I'm going to bed (but Wolfie, you are in bed). Well I'm going to sleep.
People, please stop sending me chain letters. I don't believe in them. They are a waste of bandwidth. They irritate me. I don't care if horribly bad things will happen if I don't forward a bunch of drivel to my nearest and dearest. I've never sent you chain letters. Doesn't that count for anything?
The JVC people have taken away Plaz, our flat screen tele (yes, I name my electrical equipment. Yes, even my turntable). I didn't ask them for identification. Do you think they were not from the JVC?! Oh no! Wot if I've willingly let thieves haul away our big screen?! Plaz! Come back!
My toes are now very mauve.
Uncle Scrooge came to visit for a few days. He's got an appaling sense of direction. And no hair. The signature Scrooge hair is falling. Very sad. You should have taken better care of it, S. For your fans. For the masses. Hot oil treatments and all dat. Tch. Very sad.
God help me, I am so bored.
DJ Shorty - Rang Deeni (Progressive Mix)
Kaal Dhamaal - The Tiger Mix
Jazzy Bains - Romeo
Jazzy Bains - Romeo Tappe
Jazzy Bains - Sajna
Josh - Josh Naal - DJ Jiten Mix
Kuchh Meetha Ho Jaye - Aane Do Royal Stag Mega Mix
Lehmber Hussainpuri - Challa II
Master Rakesh - Move
Sona Family feat Hard Kaur - Glassy
Sonu Nigam - Tauba Tauba
Mentor Kolektiv - Pasand
Mentor Kolektiv - Put Your Hands Up ft Blitzkrieg
Musafir - Saqi Saqi
I hate that the phone rings everytime I want to talk to you. I suppose it'll never be the same again.
I've got the Bombay theme stuck in my head and now I can't sleep.
Do you think it would be weird if I went to bed with my laptop and headphones?
Oh alright, stop squealing, I've got the India pictures uploaded. Now, if you want to see them, email me and I'll send you the link. That is, if I've not already done so.
And if you've already seen them and want to comment on the quality of the images, don't. Resist the urge. I know they're not very good. Deal with it. Oh, and there's a video too. But I'm still editing that one.
Back in Dubai. So very glad to be home.
Went for dinner to Ravi restaurant with two Swiss bankers from Geneva. Fun.
Tired now. Bit sick too. India does that to you. So off to bed I go. With The Complete Yes Prime Minister book. And some gunk titled mungo cream or something that I'm s'posed to use for the bug bites.
So till later, dahlings. But be rest assured, Wolfie is back. And no, I didn't get engaged or betrothed either.
Sigh. Have given up fighting the bugs. Decided to let them bite me. Best not to struggle much.
Palghar plans cancelled (was to go for the day to meet distant relatives twice removed cousin by marriage type people). Watching the cricket. It's a wet pitch.
Mrs. Contractor stopped by to give me an English paper. Very glad to have something to read that's not the Bhagvad Gita. Nice woman.
Went bhaji shopping with mami (mother's brother's wife) and was tempted to get some dried fish. Finally decided against it. Wise, I think.
I hate bugs. Current bite count is 27. I kid you not. I have 27 documented mosquito bites. One bit me on my nose. Getting very irritated with people laughing about my sweet blood. Want to slap them repeatedly and force them to swallow neem juice.
No electricity today. But not very hot either. Have torn eye again. Dammit.
Went to Radhika Behn's resort today. Is called Anjali Resort and has a 50-foot wide well. Huge Maharashtrian lunch and a nap in a thatch hut later went for a walk amongst dense forest of chikoo trees. Got lots of chikoo chips for the Googster but we all know she's not going to get any.
Damn mosquitoes. And this is after lathering Odomos (smelly cream you slap on your skin to discourage the bugs), lighting Kachua (smoky thing you burn all night to ward off bugs) and a Good Night mat (see Kachua sans smoke).
Was abandoned by Mum this morning. She shoved off to some other temple or something. Lots of religion in these parts. Wandered around aimlessly on the terrace since heard reports of rats running around biting people in the living room at night. Figured the terrace would be safe since no place for rats to hide.
Was kidnapped by the people across the street and taken to drink neera - some date palm tree secretion thing - very sweet, quite refreshing. Have been bamboozled into eating lunch at neighbour's. Have had 2 breakfasts already. Getting quite fed up of being so fed up.
Mala mami (mother's cousin's wife) just declared that she doesn't believe in insurance and Bipin Bhai (neighbour) wants me to drink neem juice (smelly green tree) to clear off my spots. Have tried to tell him that I don't have spots and that these are mosquito bites but he seems quite convinced that I have a skin condition. Unfortunately it was Maharashtrian New Year yesterday and somebody's deposited gallons of the stuff at our front door. Hai Maalik.
Must feign weakness and stay in bed all day. No wait, that won't work. They'll feed me more! Oo, could pretend to have diahrrea. Unfortunately am fit as a fiddle. Couldn't possibly be healthier. Rosy cheeks and all that. Suggested going for a walk to the beach but was greeted by horrified screechings of "dhoop mein kaise chalogi?!" (it's too hot and sunny to walk outside). Everybody's completely convinced that since am so fair that am going to melt the minute I step out of the house.
Went to Mr. and Mrs. Contractor's house for dinner. Yes, that is their actual name. He's a horticulturist and they've got a lovely garden full of exotic tropical plants. Sat next to a Swami (religious man) at dinner and it was all I could do not to hit him with a thali (round steel plate you eat in - no fine china here).
Hot. Bitten in the strangest places by mosquitoes. Current count is 13. Must not scratch. Arrgh.
Ate jamuns and amla today (strange Indian fruits). Frankly, I don't see the fascination. Mum's running around washing things repeatedly. I'm running around washing my hands repeatedly. People are starting to call us names in Gujrati. There's a 5-yr old that wants to sit in my lap all the time.
Went to Mahalaxmi temple with the extended family who is very amused that I don't speak Gujrati.
Hot. Mosquitoes. Bad throat. Body ache.
After a cold shower was accosted by a cup of steaming hot milk with haldi (turmeric powder - supposed to soothe your throat). Actually did drink it. Nasty stuff.
Being fed silly by relatives. Going to be very ill, I can tell. Surrounded by homemade pickle (my mum's family makes and sells pickles, among other things). Heartburn doing double time. Good thing have brought month's supply of Zantac 150. Bring on the curry! Heaven help me these 7 days and I'll quit spicy food for a month, I promise. But for now, let me wallow in the magnificence of pickled mangoes. Oh the joy, the bliss, the tears. Spoke to Dad who was very petulant about being left alone. Poor chap. Anyway, prolly best. He'd be sucking up the frieds like there's no tomorrow.
Being laughed at quite a bit since have been wandering around with camcorder in my orange pants NRI (Non-Resident Indian) style.
Just had lunch with freshly pickeled pickle. My mouth is on fire and my head hurts. Damn but that stuff is good. Mum continues to be happy. Has ditched her salwaar kameezes and is hanging around in skirt and t-shirt looking like a college girl on vacation. Am glad for her.
Will promptly pass out underneath limpid fan awash in the excesses of kaachi keri (raw mango pickle).
Went to the Jain temple in Kosbard. Been a long long time since I was on a motorbike. Rest in peace, Raj.
Left home at 2 am. Horrified driver with 9 bags. Can't be helped. Mum's eyes positively lit up when was told that could take 100 kgs (220 lbs) in checked-in baggage. Sitting in Business Class lounge and can tell there's Internet connectivity somewhere. The air fairly reeks of bits and bytes. Somewhere someone is checking their email and it's not me.
Pleasant flight. Love the leg room in Emirates' Business Class. Landed at 8:30 am (Indian Standard Time), met mama (mother's brother) and pushed off for Gholvad by car. Bombay smells of urine. The minute you step off the plane and even before you enter the airport terminal the smell of urine assaults you. And I've figured out why everybody honks on the street. All trucks, buses and rikshaws invite you to 'horn please ok'. 'Twould be rude not to. Drive was horrible for my OCD. Have forgotten to pack wet wipes. Only have small bottle of lotion. Bloody hell.
Gholvad, for the uninitiated, is 120kms (74.5 miles) from Bombay due north. It's a small coastal village and no, Dinesh, there is no wi-fi connectivity. The village looks a lot smaller than it did 10 yrs ago. Maybe I've just grown. Arrived. Hugged. People cried. Bags were hauled in. There's no electricity until 5 pm today and it's about 35C (95F). Have put away jeans and am lounging about in bright orange BJP pajamas. Everybody keeps smiling at me. Wonder why.
My Nani (mother's mother) is 80 would you believe. They've split the house and live in 1/3rd of it with the other bit rented out to the Bank of Baroda (Gholvad Branch) *tee hee*. Makes for small living space but goodly enough, the bathrooms are now in-house. I hated going to that outhouse earlier. The prospect of bugs crawling up your legs in the middle of the night was enough to make me stop drinking water. Not that I can drink the water. It's got that horrible taste. Perfectly safe to drink but that horrible taste. Am going to live on juices. Have brilliantly brought large tin of Tang.
Went for a walk with the general junta (public) in the evening to Bordi Beach. Very nice. Clean sand, blue skies and wispy clouds. Lovely sunset. Walked back and realized wot Gholvad smells of - gobar (cow dung). Now watching Star Plus. No steady electricity or drinking water but we've got cable television. Go figure. Mum looks happy and relaxed to be here.
India tomorrow. Be gone for 7 days. Back on the 14th. Possibly 15th. Obs not taking laptop. Doubt will find wi-fi spots in Gholvad. Which is tiny leetle coastal village. But taking camcorder so expect some good pictures. That is if I don't get dysentery since am the most NRI person I know. Have told Mum to stock up on the Imodium but she says we'll get some in Dhanu. Told her that symptoms may be of a slightly urgent nature and possibly might not last till we get from Gholvad to Dhanu but she's strangely confident. It worries me.
Why is Vivek Mushran singing songs? He's a terrible actor. Now he sings terrible songs. Wot gives?
"Why, Wolfie, have you become so Bolly-obsessed?", you ask. You may as well ask. There's nothing to do here but watch tele. Which, btw, I spent 8.5 hours yesterday reconfiguring with the home theatre system and the 6 speakers. Now we have Bollywood in surround sound.
Links shminks - (does anybody even read them?!)
Wearable computers. I'd like a scarf that plays music, sure. But try getting this past my mother's brutal washings. 7 years I've been hanging on to this one black t-shirt and my mother washes it once and it's shot to hell. "Why, Wolfie, are you hanging on to clothes that long", you ask. Sentimental value, I snap in reply.
You know wot I'd like to see? The next generation of cyborg computing whereby object actions are activated by thought. C'est possible? Would that still be considered cyborg computing?
Pocket VCR? Convenient for the frequent flyer. The airlines better keep up. Can't you just imagine the media rights industry all a-quiver?
They wouldn't let go of servers, would they? Noooo!
Navel piercings for pregnant women. Another useless piece of nonsense hits the US.
Do you wonder why investors are dumping chips? I do. Keeps me up at night.
Oo, yes, get voice commands in Nintendo! These Japanese people have the right idea about gaming, I tell you.
Gangaram, the stupid fuck, after being told not to unplug things has gone and unplugged the satellite receiver as a result of which, the tele has gone bonkers. People are stupid mindless shits. And now Mum is fiddling with the remote controls. We all know wot that means. AFTER SPENDING 8 AND A HALF HOURS ON THE BLOODY THING, I'M NOW GOING TO HAVE TO FIX IT AGAIN!
Was returning from Rashid Hospital and found JVC technician wandering aimlessly on Airport Road. Have kidnapped him and am now fighting traffic to get him home to fix video-less-but-plentiful-audio problem since plasma tele manuals are horribly inadequate. Sticks in my craw that cannot fix piddly piece of electronic equipment. What is a plasma tele after all I ask you. I can take 3 standing on one leg.
Woman in angio lab was suspiciously vague when I asked her if I could make copies of the disc she was burning with Dad’s report. Will it or won’t it work?
Did you know there’s a Casablanca St. in Dubai? Intersects Airport Road and leads to Cargo Village.
Remember back when the Hyatt Regency Hotel was tops with its ice rink and Galleria shopping? Looks very sandy now. The thing about Old Dubai (as it's now called) is that sooner or later, all the buildings start to blend into the desert. The Hyatt looks lonely. I'd go there just to take a peek for old times' sake but I think those are memories best not refreshed.
Oo, Deira bazaar. So very much want to buy a compass box from Al Fahidi Stationery *grin*.
Al Baniyas Square. Shawarmas not as good as Karama's. Old AHK offices. I was once a secretary and marketing manager there.
Yes, I realize that all this random rambling makes for long boring posts and is completely irrelevant to absolutely anything but this is my blog and I'll write wot I please thank you very much. Besides, I'm in traffic and didn't bring a book to read.
But Wolfie, you say, why not exercise editing privileges when you actually post in the evening? Well now, I say, if I went about editing posts willy-nilly where would we be? Not spending hours reading your drivel, you say. Go wash your face, I say. Let's not get personal, you say. You'll read it and like it, I say.
Got Residence visa stamped. Bless urgent processing options.
Now onwards to Deira to get a fire safety certificate for the Al Quoz site. There's a man in the car in the next lane who seems to be praying to his steering wheel.
Washed hands twice only since leaving home at 9 am. Wonder if there's a Ladies in the Baladiya building.
Chap at visa processing asked me, "Tum Qurbani dekha? Allaaaaaah, kya picture banaya". Then he proceeded to ask Dad if his wife had a mirchi zabaan. V. funny.
Spoke to Marcel last night. He's got me all excited about his visit. Must make plans. This way, I get to see Dubai too :)
It's marvelous how magnificently the women who work in government service departments manage to get such a wonderful look of disdain on their usually expressionless faces.
Have walked around the building twice to find the Residence Section. "Outside and right" is a very vague direction.
Some fat bastard is singing to me. Must shift location. And now another one is giving me odd looks for writing in a notepad. Take a picture, twerp. It'll last longer.
Do not underestimate the power of clicking your tongue. It has a wonderful effect on the men. Makes 'em run for cover it does. I should start wearing burkhas. Nobody messes with you if you're wearing an expensive burkha and have a look of superior disdain.
In my journeys to and from the Department of Immigration & Residence, I find a lot of photograph moments. Unfortunately, as I write this, I am in the back of Dad's labor transport van and a camcorder (or indeed a laptop) I fear, would not withstand the creaky suspension with any degree of fortitude.
Dad showed me a picture of a dish served in Emirates in the newspaper this morning. It was strawberries on cake topped with whipped cream. Said he wanted that for breakfast. I gave him his cherry jam on wheat toast and cheesed it before he could complain.
Arrived at Dept. of I & R. More negotiations with typing people in my future.
To those unfamiliar with 'typing people' let me explain - for all documents to be filed with the government one needs to fill out multiple forms in Arabic and these 'typing people' know which ones to fill and will fill them for you for a nominal fee. They also have an incredible knowledge of wot the procedures are to get things done. Saves you standing in line for hours to find that you need your grandmother's birth certificate and have to return to stand in a longer line the next day. Brilliant operations if you ask me.
Just saw a bunch of trucks with 'Bin Ladin Group' printed on the side. Too funny.
I dreamt I had inadvertently locked Salwa in my dorm room and gone off for 7 weeks. I was very unhappy about it when I returned. Salwa wasn't as annoyed as you'd think she might be. She had khakras to keep her company. When I finally did let her out, there were dead wasps on the floor.
Here are some brilliant videos (Quicktime should do you fine) -
The Peugeot ad.
The Gandhi telecom commercial.
Russell Peters being funny.
Indian Idols.
More Indian Idols. Gotta give this guy props for trying.
Tired now. Going to make me a sammich and curl up in bed with a book.
Mustn't be terse. Musn't be compact. Must be nice. It's not my fault I have a small chehera. Why is there always so much friction? You may as well ask. I'm biased is wot it is. Must learn to let go. Prolly causes bile, this does. Would explain the heartburn. Heart burn. It isn't my heart, it's my stomach that's on fire. Hey, that would be cool. An image of a burning heart. I'll google it now. So much for sticking to the topic. ADD, I tell you. Still, must be nice.
So hard to be nice though. Accomodating. Always been nice. Don't want to be nice anymore. Not going to have children. Mustn't have children if don't want to be nice. Besides, bring you nothing but heart burn, children do. No point. Invest in a jet-ski instead. More fun I should think.
I like the Nokia 2600 ad.
Trying to send email and only just realized that Gangaram, the chap who comes in once a week, has, in his infinite wisdom, very unceremoniously unplugged the router in order to use the plug to hoover the floor. Sigh.
I don’t think people really appreciate how funny Adnan Sami videos truly are.
Was watching the HELP Tsunami telethon concert on Star Plus yesterday. There’s some REALLY bad Punjabi dancing going on here. Been a while since I’ve seen nice sherwanis though. Brilliant how they managed to get this organized so nicely.
Have given up on damn BSOD issues. Will need to get NIC card.
Got yelled at today by Mum for turning down the volume on the tele. You know, from when I was watching it yesterday. So, apparently turning down the volume on the tele and then switching it off is not to be done. I was told to ask before changing things. Because, you know, apparently I don’t have leeway in my parents’ house to opt not to go deaf.
I have such a bad headache.
My bookmark list has 128 entries.
My eyeglasses have a permanent blue reflection.
I hate turning off my computer in case something important happens and it won’t boot up fast enough for me to Google it. Also, at night, I tend to take it to bed with me because I get an empty feeling when I’m away from it.
Sometimes, when V is online, I turn up the volume real loud so I can hear if he sends me a message.
When I check my email and it says I have no new messages, I check it again.
I am usually not aware of wot gender my friends are.
When I can’t sleep, I rock myself.
I’ve only been really truly jealous once. That was when Big D nestled Little D’s head on his shoulder, wrapped his arms around her and whispered to me, “she can’t sleep otherwise”.
Everytime someone takes a picture of me, I tilt my head.
I have lovely handwriting and when I swim, it’s like poetry in motion.
I’m afraid of falling and not being able to get up again.
I can never understand wot comes out of the speakers on the ‘Jesus’ car.
I know wot’s going to happen in most Hindi movies by the first fifteen minutes.
I hate hospitals.
I really really wanted to go to NYU.
I hate traveling with more than one bag.
Cream cheese is my favorite food.
Sometimes, I can’t stop talking. I once talked for a straight 10.5 hours pausing only for sips of water.
I can’t stand most Indian men.
I can be very neat, bold and brash.
I secretly wish my name was Rhonda Rimmer.
I was born in the same year as Kobe Bryant and he’s accomplished way more than I have.
I make wait staff cry.
Who I am is none of your business. If I wanted you to know who I am, I would tell you. And if you really wanted to find out, you could.
BSOD issues persist. They sneaked back on me. There's an IRQ conflict somewhere. Have set assignments manually in BIOS. Didn't work. Only thing to do is get NIC card so won't have to use driver for gateway. That would be like admitting defeat. Mum keeps calling from work to tell me that I should call Etisalat. Have told her 3 times already that Etisalat doesn't know squat. I wish people would stop wasting my pre-paid minutes.
Mum also keeps calling to relay messages to Dad. I wish those two would get their act together. I need a very dirty martini and about 18 fags.
Oh, make it end.
Oh, and btw, the problem with blue-screen-kernel-memory-leakage -microsoft's-knowledge-base-never-makes-any-sense problem was fixed by updating the driver for the gateway. Stupid Etisalat.
Two people found my blog by searching for the phrase 'bad indian girls' on Yahoo! One from Michigan and the other from San Francisco. Sorry, no porn here.
Someone from Utah actually searched for 'champagne shoulders blog'. Wonder who that is.
Someone searched for 'tarzan' *giggle*.
The Shephard Express guy didn't stay long. Prolly wasn't very interested. Either that or he deleted the cookie right away. Which would be unusually techie of him. Hmm.
Someone visited on FreeBSD too.
Applied to a lot of jobs. Fixed kernel memory leakage problem with desktop (at least I think I did). Made wireless network more secure. Did laundry. Read two chapters of The Most of P.G. Wodehouse. Unpacked all bags and put things away (or put things back in bag after folding them very nicely). Applied to a lot more jobs.
I am so bored. Friends! I need friends dammit! Or, alternatively, a car. Vakson's in Syria (don't ask me why.. apparently he's got clients there) and won't be back till tomorrow, blast him.
Pops won't listen and made his egg swimming in oil this morning. Prolly buttered his toast too. I have resorted to giving him dirty looks and refusing to speak with him because apparently running around the house with the frying pan doesn't work. He pours the oil in anyway. Haven't smelled cigarette smoke on him yet but it's only day 3 and quite frankly, I have no faith in his pathetic will-power. Must buy more non-stick cookware. Damn parents. They never listen. Wot am I to do?
Even thinking gives me heartburn these days. Should I be poignant and write a pome about my woes, cleverly punning heartburn with heart burn?
P'raps not.
Happy b'day, Zac.
My mother, bless her, collects plasticware. Not as a hobby you understand. As a necessity I think. I think she thinks that one day we'll wake up and there won't be any silverware and plates left and that all our leftovers will oxidize themselves silly because the world will have stopped making cling wrap. Or maybe this is her way of caring for the environment. I really couldn't tell you.
There's a drawer in the kitchen reserved just for plasticware. There are two BAGS of plasticware in the cupboards above the door. She won't use them. She won't let anyone use them. If you use them, she'll wash them and put them away. Like they're precious. I think she's saving them to use at my sister's wedding. That's right, Googs. When you get married, expect a big showy wedding with the guests eating out of high-quality carefully preserved antique plasticware.
So when she's not looking I use them. Then I throw them away. Recklessly. That's right, I'm bold. I don't think about wot will happen if we run out of plasticware. Oh no, not me. Throw caution to the wind, I say! Carpe Diem my boy, carpe diem. In fact, if I feel like a second cup of coffee, I discard the spoon used to stir the first cup and use another. I use a knife to cut sammiches in half even though I really don't care wot size they are just so I could use another piece of high-tech plastic equipment. That's how daring I can be. Don't mess with me, bubba.
I've just had a sammich (chicken pepper salami with cream cheese) and I'm going to throw caution to the winds and toss the plastic plate into the bin. Just you watch me, I'm going places I am.
Better hide it underneath some other garbage or she'll see it.
Nooches says:
how's ocd - washing hands and such
Wolfe says:
just blogging about it
Nooches says:
i'm in your head......
Wolfe says:
yes you are.. don't get lost
Nooches says:
i'm afraid
Wolfe says:
move towards the light.. there'll be two.. those are my eyes.. use the right one.. it's unscratched..
Nooches says:
they always say it's not good to "go towards the light" unless you have your life in order
Wolfe says:
i thot you were lost in my head
Nooches says:
yes, but i'm also afraid of where that will lead me
Liz Ryan suggests that business is not mortal combat. There goes my leadership style.
You'll be happy to know that I no longer have to carry around wet wipes to clean my hands every 30 mins. I now carry a small bottle of liquid soap and another small bottle of lotion. My OCD has progressed to such an extent that today alone, I washed my hands 19 times. In the morning. Between 6 and 11 am.
I can't help it. It's getting worse and I know it's just in my head but I can't help it. I'm not afraid of germs or anything. It's just that dusty dry feeling I get on my fingers that bugs the hell outta me. I used to wet wipe and now I soap and scrub. Everywhere I go, first thing I do is scrub. I've got a wireless mouse for my laptop because I can't stand using the mouse pad for more than a few minutes. When we go grocery shopping, I refuse to touch anything. I opened the car door with my sleeve the other day. HELP ME DAMMIT! I can't go through life like this! Eventually, I'm going to have to push my own shopping cart and I may not be wearing long sleeves all the time. Do I get gloves? Is that the answer? Will my fingers be dusty inside gloves too? Aaaaaarrrrrgh.
So Etisalat finally got its act together and sent over man with router and the power to provide broadband (otherwise known as porn at the speed of light). So this chap plonks down Linksys, plugs it in, installs the drivers and makes to shove off. So I ask, "wot about the wireless part, O bearded man in perfectly ironed thobe?" He hums, he haws, he fiddles, he twiddles. Then he says he doesn’t know and will send someone else to tackle that problem. I say, all I need is an encryption key. He runs out the door. Two hours later he returns with heavyset Somalian-types (yes, I know, I had to look twice) who hems and haws and suggests I take my laptop to the computer shop to get it fixed. I say to him, "You are a moron. All I need is a WEP key. Show me where to generate this WEP key." He bolts. I sigh. Unpack the gateway manual. Generate a WEP key. Key it in. Instant Internet.
So then I call Etisalat’s customer service to complain, right? And I am told, in no uncertain terms, that Etisalat’s technicians are not responsible for setting up the router. And to think I paid AED 200 for installation. Should’ve just bought a router from Bur Dubai and done it myself. Losers.
Now any Joe can podcast their disgusting taste in music. Power to the people. Oh, the horror. Country music is going to take over the world, I know it. We'll be honky-tonkin' till the cows come home.
Apparently, bloggers are not journalists. Who'd've thunk?
Einstein’s b’day is on April 18th. They’re doing this funky light relay thing. Read about it.
Watching a really old Shatrughan Sinha and Dharmendra movie and discussing potential India trip. Shall keep you updated. Now currently mesmerized by how much Shatru looks like Dad 30 years ago *giggle*.
You know you’re afraid of commitment when the thought of spending a lifetime with one person fills you with a nameless fear.
You know you’re a true cynic when you can’t come up with enough pros of spending a lifetime with one person. The cons always seem to be one step ahead.
I’m going to die alone in a smelly old bathrobe with a lot of cats surrounded by empty Limca bottles. I just know it.
Two more tapes to go. Ruby is feeding Tarzan bananas.
Watching this really bad 80s Hindi Tarzan movie (Adventures of Tarzan) with THE WORST songs! They’re so bad, they’re mesmerizing. I can’t help but watch. My eyes! My ears! Oh, the horror!
Dad has managed to sleep through an entire rescue scene where Kimi Katkar is clinging onto a rock in these rapids that will wash her off giant waterfall-types. Love the old Hindi movie editing. You see the actress (who, btw, is named Ruby) screaming her head off wearing something skimpy (and obs. wet). You see a shot of the waterfall in all its white-water rapidness. You see actor leaping from tree to tree rushing to the rescue. Back to waterfall. Cut to screaming actress. Then, suddenly, the screaming has stopped and woman is in Tarzan’s arms on a rock safely above the river. Cue sappy violin music and it’s love at first manhandle.
Of course, they’re trekking through the forests and she’s wearing a wispy white dress barefoot and dipping about in ponds and things. You would think that near-death experience with rapids would turn this chick off water.
Ruby’s been bitten by a snake (serves you right, you stupid gnat). You know wot that means. Yep, Tarzan is going to suck the poison out.
Oh wait, just figured out why her dress is so wispy. It’s so that it won’t balloon up when she’s wading through alligator-infested waters. Natch.
I tell you, you haven’t lived if you haven’t seen bad old Hindi movies.
Marcel just called to say he’s coming to Dubai. Pity I can’t have him over but I don’t think having house guests is going to help Dad any.
Feel bad for Pops. Don’t know wot to do.
Googs isn’t so stubborn and pig-headed. Does that mean that I am? Aren’t those inherited traits?
Started transferring camcorder tapes onto laptop to edit and create movie of mum and dad’s cruise vacation. Seems to be working quite nicely so far. Only done 2 tapes yet – working on the 3rd of 8. Did take some snapshots with the cam last night which turned out alright (given that they were taken in the dark with no flash). The image editing software that comes with this cam (JVC) is very rudimentary but a quick zip-thru with Photoshop makes everything alright.
Went to give blud earlier today for the health card. Was very amused by the throngs milling about outside Sh. Maktoum Hospital mumbling very shadily, "Madam, typing, madam?". Went to Karama after left dad in the hosp. I had forgotten about the soliciting shopkeepers. The merchandise doesn’t seem to have changed much since five years ago.
Sick. Ill. Unwell. Ailing. Laid up. Below par. Under the weather. Not a hundred percent. Poorly.
Sick.
My mother has just commanded Dravid to hit a century. Adorable how she sits there in front of the tele yelling at the cricketers. Don’t think India’s going to win though.
Had a meeting today at the Emirates Towers. Very impressive buildings. I'm waiting for the damn Etisalat people to get their act together and deliver me my cable so I can post pictures from my laptop. Too much work installing Hello on here.
Alrighty then, here's your cool news for the day -
Pong invented the Internet not Al Gore. It all began when Steve Russell invented Spacewar which was built at MIT in 1962. Nolan Bushnell became a fan and co-founded Atari in 1972 and let Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak develop Breakout. In summary, former Atari programmers spun off Activision, which merged with Infocom, which was founded by hackers at MIT, which produced consultants Bolt, Beranek and Newman who were contracted to build the Arpanet. Phew! Don’t believe me? Take a look.
When in doubt, call 311 (which, coincidently, happens to be my flat number. Yes, another random piece of information. Deal with it). Impacting the world as only technology can. Brilliant.
There’s something very undeniably cool about giant aquariums. The new DomAquaree Radisson houses the world’s deepest aquarium – the Aquadom (which, btw, would make a really cool name for a game). It’s an 8-storey tank with 50 species of fish. You can take an elevator ride (lasts 7 minutes) through the aquarium. Designed by International Concept Management (of the Las Vegas Mandalay Bay shark tanks fame) who plans to build an even deeper aquarium in Moscow this year.
The robots are coming! The robots are coming! UCLA bioengineers are making machines that grow living muscles on their silicon skeletons (this silicon stuff is everywhere). The robots walk about 2” per hour when immersed in a sugar-water solution. The next step is to add piezoelectric materials to turn electricity into movement and vice versa. Runs as long as the sugar runs out. So I suppose that means that sugar is the future oil. White gold. Wait, isn’t that cocaine? Or not. I’m not exactly up on my drug lingo. You know, along with making robots that now move, they could generate meat for consumption. Not to mention extra human limbs. If I last out long enough, maybe I’ll be able to get me a new pair of feet. Oo, now that would be exciting.
Ok, forget everything I said I’d like to have and put this high up on your ‘things to get Wolfie' list. A waterproof MP3 player. Beats having to listen to the voices in your head. Oregon’s MP120 with 128Mb of flash memory for nearly four hours of swimmingly wonderful tunes. Saw it at RadioShack the other day. Had to bribe the security chap to physically drag me away from it.
The whole Shiavo deal makes me want to puke. That's all I'll say on the subject.
Music for today – the Rock the Casbah album, some Seb Fontaine and some Claude Challe.
Have you seen the Bombay Rockers – Rock the Party video? It’s hilarious. Mirza sharabi (albeit one from Denmark) in a skull cap and white boy cruisin’ the streets in an oldsmobile and getting their asses kicked by a bunch of really bad dancers in animal suits. Very funny.
I’m hooked on Channel [V] India. Ever wonder wot hppnd to all those horrible Anu Malik Hindi movie songs? They’re being aired on Channel [V]. Oh god, Helen is doing the shoulder shimmy.
Tagline for jaljeera - “Desi drink, desi asar”.
Remember when Akshay Kumar *snigger* was the biggest thing to happen to Bollywood? Came from Thailand or Malaysia or some place. Tabloids full of speculations on his sex life. I should have saved the papers. Would’ve made for some funny reading.
Why is it always raining in Limca ads?
Is it me or is Sanjay Dutt getting creepier by the decade? I have yet to see a movie where he’s not randomly brandishing a switchblade.
So the latest thing apparently is to have gori women in desi music videos. You know, shaking their groove thang. Like desi women aren’t slutty enough.
Storm, look up the Switch (Will Smith – Lost and Found) video. :)
Watched Chameli today. Very strange movie. Rahul Bose looks surprisingly familiar. Where have I seen him before? Kareena Kapoor smokes like a pro.
Saw an ad for the Help concert for tsunami aid with Amitabh Bachchan and Abhishek Bachchan eyeing some slinky chick. The creepy thing is that they’re both eyeing the same chick. Although have to admit, Little B is starting to look very good. Yes, even with his sleazy looks.
Now realize that have crossed the line into becoming a proper AB groupie. Want to mutilate self at the very thought.
Can I just say – I hate the name Milee (and derivatives thereof).
If, o ye messenger driver of sad Suzuki motorbikes, the roads and traffic department has decreed that a street should have 3 lanes they must have done so for a reason. The roads and traffic departments of most governments usually do things like urban planning after giving it much thought. They may not be the most far-sighted people we know, but let’s give them credit where it’s due. So. If the road you are traveling on happens to be a three-lane road and it happens to curve onto another three-lane road then why in God’s name do you not want to respect the bloody three-laneness of these roads?! The white paint on the asphalt has a meaning, you retarded frog! Animals have a better sense of road etiquette than you do! Begone, bastard! The next motorbikist I see who wants to play funny with me is going to get an earful of my most excellent horn. And if you catch me in a really good mood, I just might swerve madly, make you lose your balance and cause you to bash headlong into something very hard. That’s it. Screw media. I’m going to be a traffic officer. Nothing would give me more pleasure than to nail these useless specimens of society. And no fines either, mind you. It’s 30 days in the chokey for you without the option.
Have to meet with some stupid committee at the club before I can get membership. Oh, and get this, the pool is closed from 10 am to 3:30 pm. When exactly then am I supposed to do my laps, you morons? Peak hours after 4 when the entire world will bring their rat-faced brats to the pool to splash around in my path?
I did get a very nice new pair of training goggles with UV protection, anti-scratch lenses, self-adjusting nose bridge, power rockets above the ears and built-in phazers. Look out, Monty beta, here comes Wolfie.
Back to work.
Artist for today – Gaudi
I’m in love with a Filipino man named Joseph who works at RadioShack. He knows a lot about pins and plugs. Now if I could only get the damn Etisalat guys to get back to me about my cable installation, I’d be much happier.
I've got my bag back bag back bag back *being sung to the Applebee's Baby Back Ribs commercial tune to the utter irritation of self's father who is trying to watch the kirket*.
Also have embarked on strange and obscure journey which involves drinking Tahitian Noni juice all day. Reason being that there aren't any decent juices in the house. Yes, I could go get some, but that's too much work. Besides, when was the last time Tahitian Noni juice was brought up in conversation. "Accha toh yeh aapki vaife hain? Kaafi sehat bana rakhi hai. Tahitian Noni juice pilate ho kya?!" (Your vife? Very healthy. She drink Noni juice?!)
Damn. Have to clean out entire closet before can find space to put items that will unpack from lost-and-now-found bag. Will do so keeping one eye on the Indi-Pak Test match. Last time I checked we were 256/3 post-lunch. Yesterday's was stupendous. "Harbhajan Singh kya balling karta hai!" (Harbhajan Singh, very good baller) as my mom says.
Soundtrack for cleaning and unpacking afternoon - Hum FM. They play lousy crap on this station.
You win. I can't sleep.
Things could be a lot worse. I could be in Iraq. Or Iran for that matter. I could be in a city that's being bombed. I could lose a limb. I could be poor. I could be drowning. I could be working a night shift. I could be a security guard. I could be homeless. I could be limited. I could be content.
But it's only insomnia.
Listening to Pink Floyd (doesn't everybody listen to Pink Floyd when they can't sleep?) and Pyar Mere from Dobara.
Another brilliant analysis -
"Science fiction writer Vernor Vinge popularized the term singularity in the early '90s. For about a decade, it threw a wrench in the gears of science fiction as an intellectual effort. It's hard to fantasize about tomorrow when you're firmly convinced that tomorrow is inherently unfantasizable. However, sneaky sci-fi authors have been able to finesse the problem. After all, the genre doesn't exist to forecast the future; it's entertainment that depends on making the impossible seem plausible. A singularity turns out to be a great way to do that. It may be unthinkable and indescribable - but the wreckage it leaves isn't. After a singularity blows through, the world might as well be Oz, complete with talking scarecrows and tin men.
Movie fans can see this imaginary wall across the future in flicks like Terminator and The Matrix, where a dystopian technological event allows smart machines to take over. The superintelligent gizmos turn out to be fairly standard serial-killer bogeymen - although they wear cool gear, perform feats of biblical wonder, and become governer of California." - Bruce Sterling
A brilliant thought - posted on the US Patent and Trademark Office website:
"The human body is used as a conductive medium, e.g., a bus, over which power and/or data is distributed. Power is distributed by coupling a power source to the human body via a first set of electrodes. One or more devise [sic] to be powered, e.g., peripheral devices, are also coupled to the body via additional sets of electrodes. The devices may be, e.g., a speaker, display, watch, keyboard, etc. A pulsed DC signal or AC signal may be used as the power source." - L. Williams, W. Vablais and S.N. Bathiche, Technologists, Microsoft.
"iQue. A car navigation system cleverly disguised as a PDA."
"You think your 40-gig iPod rocks?" You ain't met the StorCloud yet.
Oh, and it's 3274km (1768 mi) from Istanbul to Dubai. And the time is GMT+4. Which is US CST+9 without daylight savings. Because we don't use daylight savings. Because it's always sunny in Dubai *smirk*.
This one is for you, Storm. Think you can build a machine that'll pass for human? There's a prize for that. Also check out the Turing Test page.
New York's got the right idea with this yellow arrow guide. But for a methodical geek like me data accuracy is a big question.
Now this is my kinda art. Visual expressions of mathematical functions. Doesn't get any prettier than this. Make your own and if it's pretty, send it to me at steppenwolfe@gmail.com Maybe I'll create a page for them. P.S. the yellow one on the website is a whole lot prettier in print.
Dial-up doesn't seem too slow at past 2 am. I'm sleepless again. The internet is my salvation.
Spy Robot. The doughnut recon mission. I so wish I had one of these while I was at Spin *mad giggle*.
Now this is wot the US should start thinking about. Parents don't get too attached to that leash with which you drag your 2-yr old. The Wi-Fi/RFID revolution has begun. Bloody brillant.
GE's Evolution Series locomotive. Imagination truly at work.
Yes, I know some of these are old news. But I'll bet you didn't know about it.
Hello hello! Stop cribbing about not updating the blog. I'm in Dubai. You are all now inconsequential worms.
So here's an update. Note the changed time and location. It was 80F today.
Turk Hava Yollari is a pretty decent airlines 'cept that you don't get ANY elbow room. Which isn't so much of a problem on the Chicago-Istanbul leg because there are nice Turkish women and families and people who shower. However, only smelly people travel to Dubai from Turkey. And they always end up sitting next to me. Oh, and THY lost one bag. Which means I have no shoes bar the ones I wore in and absolutely no office wear. Which means - SHOPPING! :)
Got my driver's license, a cellphone and registered for cable (dial-up is very painful - especially when Etisalat keeps blocking harmless jpegs). Shall start reorganizing the house tomorrow.
Which brings me to a question - how did we manage without paper towels in the kitchen all those years?
People drive like demented monkeys in Dubai. There seems to have been a population explosion and at least 10% of them are hanging around on the streets aimlessly. There is also incessant traffic. Mostly on the road right by our building at 3 am. Used to be a point where people would go home in the afternoons but now they're too busy jamming up the roadways. And remember how going to the airport always seemed like a long drive? And the clock tower was the highlight of Deira? No so anymore. We've got a kick-ass skyline. I shall post pictures just as soon as the cable is hooked up. No way I'm going through all that for your amusement on dial-up.
Mum's got a decent set-up. Flat screen monitor. Speakers that make you orgasm on blip. Plasma tele the size of most pianos. It's getting so I don't even mind the pink walls.
And this is my favourite part about being in Dubai - radio stations that play very awesome music!
More later. Time for a midnight snack. Meanwhile, read some mad messaging.
Nooches says:
aha! the eagle has landed!!
Wolfe says:
the bag has been lost
Nooches says:
oh no!
Wolfe says:
i tell you ... been around the world three times.. haven't lost a single thing.. and now, when i need it most.. one entire bag
Wolfe says:
i was eating syrian pickles earlier and thinking of you
Nooches says:
why?
Wolfe says:
cuz pickled veggies made me think of pickled cabbage which made me think of your pickled cabbage story
Nooches says:
ahh, i thought perhaps i reminded you of a pickled veggie
Wolfe says:
no.. you're not wrinkled enough
Wolfe says:
i had forgotten how convenient ladies' sections are..at etisalat and police station and things
Storm says:
so screw equal opportunity?
Wolfe says:
hey..nobody likes to wait with smelly pathans
Storm says:
hota hai.. chalta hai... duniya hai *takes glasses off and blows on lenses* ha ha *cue evil music*
Wolfe says:
*aims pressurised air container at your glasses*
Storm says:
eeek... not WHILE I'm wearing them!
Wolfe says:
sorry
Wolfe says:
why won't my pictures show in blog?
Storm says:
you must be being whacked by etisalat.. if you want to change proxy servers I have a page.
Wolfe says:
wot sort of girl do you take me for? you'll have to buy me dinner first
Storm says:
the kind that hates being stuck behind restrictive web proxies that whack simple jpgs
Wolfe says:
give me your page.. *sneaky attitude*
Storm says:
{URL} it's a bloody smorgasbord
Wolfe says:
and mamma's hungry
Oh yes, I do have lots of good geeky techy links for you. But that's another post.
Saat - 6:40 pm
Location - Gate Cafe
Condition - Bench-sore and very sleepy from not having slept the entire flight here because of stupid kids who took turns crying and kicking my seat
Heard playing in a Turkish airport - Raghav's Stolen.
Trying to nap but bloody uncomforable benches have no headrest so neck keeps rolling about in frightening manner. Did manage two little sleeps while trying to read magazine. Little boy going "nee nee nee nee" around me at full speed. The good thing about being sleepy in Turkey is that you get awesome Turkish coffee here.
Is it too early to go through security for an 8:10 flight?
Tarih (Date) – 21 March
Saat (Time) – 2:10 pm
Istanbul Ataturk Airport, Transit Lounge in front of the Turk Hava Yollari security gates.
The line at O’Hare was shorter than I remembered it. Stood in it from 2:45 pm to 4 pm. Bags didn’t even get screened. Odd. Had an interesting conversation with the airport security chaps about x-ray screeners and gold-plated earrings. Don’t ask. It’s nice to see pleasant airport personnel. On domestic flights you always seem to get rubbish people.
Sat next to Anyoz (or was it Ruby?) with a busted nose. She had a Samsung mp3 player (which was vastly superior to mine) and we swapped. She had interesting Turkish pop but I didn’t care for it much. She did seem to like A.R. Rehman’s Only You on my iRiver. Slept through After the Sunset, which was a pity because I wanted to see it. Have only just arrived at Istanbul Ataturk Airport. The NEW Istanbul airport. Which, if you’ve been to the old one, you’ll understand why I had to make that distinction. It hasn’t changed much in 5 years. Only now there are Wi-Fi hotspots and more benches. Strangely warm though. I shall not wander through the long duty-free line because it isn’t anything I haven’t already seen. But the Bvlgari store looks like it has new stuff.
A bottle of water doesn’t cost $3.50 anymore.
I really wish I had a digital camera for this trip. There was this man with his son standing in the check-in line in front of me at Chicago’s O’Hare and he looked like Kemal. Plus about 30 years. You’re going to age well, TD. Anyway, his son was wearing a business suit complete with tie and shiny shoes. All of 8 years old and talking on a cell phone. It was absolutely adorable. I wanted to take a picture and post it with the caption “Starting young”.
I’d forgotten how good-looking the Europeans can be.
Total flying time – 10 hrs 30 mins. Meals had – 2. Cups of coffee – 8. Wet hand wipes used – 13. Number of times wanted to use wet hand wipes but managed to control the urge – 29 (yes, I counted. It was a long flight.). Wired mags read – 0.5. Longitudes crossed – 6. Miles (km) traveled – 4970 (9204). Made conversation with strange Turkish people – 3. Made conversation with normal Turkish people – none.
The earth is indeed very round. A fact that was forcefully obvious to me as we were flying over the east coast (the U.S. and Canadian east coast) and the sun set spectacularly. And then it rose again somewhere over the North Atlantic. The snow-covered peaks of the mountains over Austria raised just a smidgen above the clouds and it was bloody beautiful. I did reach a stupor point in the plane where I stared at the ice crystals forming on the edges of my window and watched them melt but that only lasted about an hour.
There are large multimedia digiboards advertising Turkey and airport information and I just saw an ad for Joey on wot looks like an CNBC channel. I’m sitting next to these large containers for charity for the Turkish Blind Foundations (“Please help light the way with your donations.”) and they’re mighty full. Good place to solicit donations, the airport. People always have loose change at the airport.
Ooh look! Versace! More later.
After note: The chap making the announcements has an incredibly nice voice.
Post notes: Some elderly Turkish woman with a nice smile just walked up to me and said something that sounded like “your blouse is as red as the flowers in my mother’s garden, do you play the banjo?” but I could be mistaken.
There is an obviously European woman carrying a sitar case and a very desi touristy pouch-bag browsing through the Sweet Dreams tax free chocolate shoppe.
Hey, look! A chocolate shoppe!
An airport security chap just whizzed by on the cutest little scooter! A blonde just walked by wearing yeti shoes. There is a Pakistani chap on the other end of the airport talking to his relatives on his cellphone. The reason I know this is because his voice is resonating through the area. A woman in a peach sweater just stood in front of me and muttered something about ‘that shop over there is not on fire’. I really need to brush up on my Turkish. Oo, unshaven, long-haired, gypsy man with flute and clarinet case approacheth. Sorry, this seat is taken. Very good-looking man in business suit giving me the eye from his vantage point leaning against a pillar over there. European woman with sitar is French (or at least speaks it) and just walked by with the rest of her troupe (including hippie-man) wearing a dirty brown kurta.
Oh wait, I know why everyone’s looking at me strange. They’re trying to figure out why I don’t have any hair. Did I mention that all Turkish women have hair down to their damn ankles? Feminine bastards.
Just seen the entire Buddha Bar collection in music store. Had to execute immense mind control to get self out of there. Strange Pakistani man in bright pink shirt following me around like pre-civilization Cro-Magnon man. Must find another hot spot.
Have found another hot spot in between icecream shop (which may see my business later) and funky music store playing wot sounds suspiciously like Natacha Atlas. I should get that album.
Chicago never changes. For a city that's so vibrant and lively, it's surprisingly constant. I think that's wot I love about it.
Found these too:
Cleaning websites for a living
How clean is your website?
Nothing to do with soap. Everything to do with clean.
Soap?!
Does your website stink?
Let's keep it clean
It pays to be clean
And pages of night parking permits for Knapp Street for a 1997 Mazda Protege. Now I think I'm going to cry.
So as I was packing away things to keep in storage for the 5 months I'll be gone I found my old planner. Here are some choice entries -
Jan 16 - 18: Granite Peak. Interesting developments :)
Feb 31: Temple + lecture and bhajans with Kutty
Feb 2: Sting!
Feb 26: Walsh :) (I have no idea wot this entry means)
Feb 29: Oscar party at Mount Santosh
April 8: Last day at Spin. When it's over, it's over. Must get very very drunk.
May 7: Shaft on UPN @ 7 pm
June 19: 26th B'day!! Must leave town. Chicago train times - 3pm, 7pm
July 2 - 5: GOOGS! CHICAGO! YIPPEE!
Aug 2: Move to AR
And that's it. Not one entry after Aug 2. Nary a one. Empty. Blank. Finished.
More dreams. P.Diddy and an old green Volksvagen. Abhishek Bachchan. Yes, again. On the beach. Trying to light a bonfire. Lots of people milling about. Barbeque smells. Salty air. Loud ocean. Breezy night. Nested in a quiet corner wrapped up in a blue and green blanket with something alcoholic - me. Which suddenly caught fire. Little B trying to set me ablaze. Woke up feeling hungry.
Why is A.B. Jr. trying to kill me?! Have I crossed into that realm of conciousness where I believe that celebrities are out to get me?! Have I finally lost it?!
Someone from Germany has landed upon my blog after searching for "dubai sex scene 2005 paki indian". This is highly disturbing. Are there any Indo-Pak sex mentions in my blog?! I don't think I've written about that sort of peace process.
Oh dear, just realized that now since have posted words "dubai sex scene 2005 paki indian" that am bound to come up when phrase searched. Now wot?!
The move from Milwaukee was a good thing. This is one of the reasons why - I have eliminated all of my junk possessions. Hence, it took me all of 30 minutes to be done with packing for my move to Dubai. Then I spent about 6 hours obsessing and repacking and rearranging and I've finally packed one bag and locked it and I'm not going to obsess about it anymore.
Maybe I can squeeze in one more pair of shoes.
Come Friday and I shall be in Chicago. To spend a very short weekend with Vij and B. Should be fun, as always. Can't wait to sit on their bed, losing my glucose biscuits in the chai and talking about myself. I owe B big karma points. I never give her any notice before I land up on her doorstep asking to be put up. Good thing she likes me.
Here's a conversation snippet:
Wolfe says:
i have sudden sadness... and lots of shoes
P says:
then you are definitely a woman.. it is proved
Wolfe says:
i guess it must be true
P says:
*shrug* oh well
Wolfe says:
you sound disappointed
P says:
thats life
P says:
I can't fight rotten genetics
Wolfe says:
i still have balls.. if that makes you feel better
P says:
no.. not really.. creeps me out to be honest.
Wolfe says:
lol
It's nice to have friends. I'm going to need a whole new set of friends in Dubai. So send me your email addresses and your phone numbers. It's been 5 years since I've been back. Think there'll be culture-shock?
Back to packing. I really do have a lot of shoes. Take them all, Manna says. You can throw them at the mallus. *giggle*
Holy Mother of God. Check out the line-up for this movie. Check out the trailers for Sin City.
So did you know that there was a tourism fair in Berlin this weekend? And they had coupons for 11% off for Macy's. I thought that was funny.
The Googster and I went to Hot Springs yesterday. Lovely drive. Beautiful day. 84 degrees and sunny. Spent 2 hours at the Garvan Woodland Gardens. Sat on benches surrounded by trees and flowers and had Silsila moments. Ate icecream in the gift shop. Apparently I obsessively browse gift shops all over the place. If I'm ever lost and there's a gift shop in the vicinity, I'll be there. It's like a beacon to me. Shall post pictures of the gardens as and when can be bothered to get them washed. Yes, we still use film in our camera.
Marcel and I are going to start an international multicultural travel agency. And since I'm a minority in every country, I'm sure we could get a loan. I'm not sure why we'd need a loan, but isn't that wot firms do? Get loans?
I was at Blockbuster returning Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and getting The Usual Suspects and there was this chap who was following me around the store. Either that or he was browsing the suspense section alphabetically as well. And he was wearing that perfume that V wears. Can't remember the name. And I am not ashamed to say, I stood there pretending to check out some movie with a bleeding butterfly on the cover just so I could get a good sniff.
It's 51 degrees and cloudy today. The cherry blossoms are in bloom. Very pretty.
Eternal Sunshine is a very well made movie I must say. Good editing. Good cinematography. The plot was very very odd. But all in all, a very good movie.
It bothers me that Baghdad Burning hasn't written since the 9th. I do hope nothing bad has happened to her and her family.
Fun how fun it is to find fun in other people's geekiness. This guy makes me go all squirmy in my seat.
Robin: Holy Hammers, Batman! Did you see that? She built a whole dresser in minutes right in front of our eyes without power tools! Isn't that amazing?!
Batman: It may seem amazing, Robin, but look closely. Those blisters will fester. She'll regret not wearing gloves, mark my words.
Robin: Can we help her, Batman?
Batman: I'm afraid not, Robin. Cold cream and lotion gloves are her only salvation now.
Robin: Perhaps you should marry her, Batman! Then she wouldn't have to do handy things around the house.
Batman: No, Robin. A wife, no matter how beauteous or affectionate, would severely impair my crime-fighting. Although, hammering is better left to the men, Wolfe. This isn't exactly women's work. But then again, you're no ordinary woman.
Jane Fonda to have hip replacement surgery. Must be all those exercise videos.
Sameera Singh's voice makes me cringe.
Am I the only one who thinks Remo Fernandes' O Meri Munni reeks of incestual child abuse? Dude, the kid's only 13!! It isn't even a good song.
Now here's a good picture. Can't post it here. You'll have to click on the link.
MSN won't let me play MSN videos on Firefox. Annoying.
Why do all Raghav songs start with an 'oo oo'?
"The rich had a very good year." The world's richest people.
Why can't we have communal pillow fights like the Israelis?
Pay your taxes.. or face the.. *sigh*.. music .. in .. India..... I can't even say it without rolling my eyes.
The Googster has just asked me find a song from the 'Come on campers, lets all sing' album.
I was looking at my hands earlier and it occurred to me - my hands don't match my face. My face is like that of a pre-pubescent boy. All fair and round. My hands are old. I have old hands. And old feet. Like I used to tell my mother - I have grown-up hands and feet. Somehow that's a depressing thought. That somehow bits of me are aging faster than other bits. Will they eventually catch up with each other?
In case you hadn't noticed.
Why do people collect things?! Stamps, collectibles, dolls, old soup cans, old candy wrappers. These things are junk people! Crap. That's wot they are. Crap! Let it go.
If you share a computer with your wife, how do you keep your porn separate?
I want to broil a chicken. I have a craving for broiled chicken. With gravy. And asparagus. Boy am I greedy.
I can't get rid of Ceres! My lovely virgin laptop is a virgin no more!
It's a lovely night. The lake is silent. The trees are looming. The ducks glide softly. A teasing bird flits from branch to branch. Perfect night for a murder.
I have an immediate need for knee-breakers. That is people who break knees professionally. It would have to be a professional because amateurs just don't do a good enough job. Also, an amateur would get carried away and start bashing people around in the head. No, wot I need is a tried and tested pro. Who's permanently in a bad mood. Who won't think twice of nailing knees to the floor as an acceptable alternative. Someone who doesn't shirk from the prospect of blood and flesh flying around. Hulk Hogan comes to mind. No wait. Wot am I thinking?! We need Killer Khalsa!
Although, not to boast or anything, but I'm not so shabby meself ya'know. Just have to catch me with enough PMT.
So if you know anyone who would want the job, tell 'em to email me.
On the trees I mean. It's all lush and green once again. And I distinctly smell meat being bbqed. Maybe I'll go for a walk and score a hot dog or three.
In other news, the San Francisco trip is off because... well, because we simply didn't really want to go. I have been very productive after this morning's horrible mistake (which I will not detail here - rest assured, a horrible mistake was made this morning). I have been mailing misc things from the post office (and no, I didn't pay him $13.65 in dimes this time), got Chinese takeaway for lunch (the people at Chi's start stir-frying beef the minute they see the big blue bus), faxed documents, printed documents, filed documents, went digging for documents in the box (you know the one with all the papers in it) and cleaned out my office. Oh alright, my office is the dining table. You know wot I mean.
And I have Ceres. Very annoying. It simply won't go away. Any wise words of suggestion?
So I dreamt about that inktag you know. The one on the skirt we bought from J.C. Penny (don't shudder - yes, sometime we do wear mass-producted garments. Did it ever occur to you that individuality is over-rated? Hmm?) and the woman at checkout forgot to remove. I dreamt that I was trying to yank it off and I had Resh's voice in my head telling me not to (very surreal voice.. yes, even for a dream) and then there was ink all over the place only it wasn't regular ink. Oh no. This ink was the flesh-eating kind. And Resh was panicking because my fingers were disappearing. Then he started making this strange chirping sound. Which woke me up. Curse dem sparrows.
Ahlan Salaam Marhaba!
San Francisco next week.
No Chicago/Milwakee trip before I leave for London/Dubai. Not enough time. And besides, it's not like anything remotely exciting is going to happen.
Possibly India as well this month.
Started a Coupling marathon last night which I shall finish today. Also simply must finish the IBM book and DisneyWar.
Didn't get my Wired this month. Odd.
Apparently I'm an ESTP. I used to be an INTJ when I took this test at Mozee. Go figure.
"As an ESTP, you are Extraverted, Sensing, Thinking, Perceiving. This makes your primary focus on Extraverted Sensing with Introverted Thinking.
This is defined as a SP personality, which is part of Carl Jung's Artisans (Sensation Seeking) type, and more specifically the Promoters or Doers.
Because you aren't as excited about routine, your blog may be more journal-like, without as much consistantcy in time between posts. But because you like getting things done, coupled with your need for style and appreciation for the sense, you will be more likely to have a gorgeous design and set up for journalling."
Hah. Rubbish.
Anyway.
I went shopping and finally got a pair of something-resembling-BJP pants. The Googster says she likes them but deep down inside she's shuddering. I can tell.
For my friend Resh, who's having trouble with logos, here's an interesting readabout Linux and the Penguin.
Rajesh Advani on Sulekha. He writes very 'awwww' stories. Very nicely too, I might add. He may just be a perma-link.
Bill Gates gets spam. I find that very funny. Do you think he has assistants to read his email?
So Wipro implements an intra-company match-making portal for its employees. 'Cuz, you know, it's not enough that your parents, your relatives, your neighbors, and everybody else you know is trying to set you up in an arranged marriage, now your employer has to leap in as well. So wot, do they have a whole department for this? Wot happens when things don't work out? Can't you just imagine Pushpa from Accounting going on a date with Anil from QA and when Anil bores the crap outta the evening by droning on and on about how "I really vaant to be in development and this is just a stepping stone for me and my mother wants to know if you can make sambar" and Pushpa shocks the living daylights outta Anil because she orders a steak and martini for herself. Then they have to go back to the same office. Oo. They should make this into a reality show!
Dinner time.
Hugely funny. It's things like these that make me wish I wasn't single. Ah, to have someone to argue with. :(
I do remember yelling at V about something once and he did say quite clearly, "please put that fork down".
Oh damn. :(
I love tax returns. Takes the sting out of seeing FICA take all my money (and brazenly report it on my paystub). I feel like I've thwarted the government. I tell you, tax returns are a lovely way to feed the inner revolutionist in all of us. The IRS has a brilliant plan - take enough of your money right when you earn it to keep you in check and then give some of it back to you once a year, just when you're considering letter bombs and murder by hanging. BRILLIANT!
Does your Netflix list need updating?
Meshach Silas has left us. The desi funk music world has suffered a great loss. You should have seen this man on stage. He defined the terms 'electric performance'. If you're in the Chicago area, do go to the memorial for me.
Bill Gates is a Knight. Rescuing the world from menial oesses. Brandishing his stylus as he zooms gallantly into the foray battling the dragons of 'Nix.
The Russians are coming! The Russians are coming! What ees dat you say? The Russians are coming?
Ah, capitalism. This is why I love this country. As painful as it may be, capitalism is the only way to go.
Good article on the trials and tribulations of the Olympic evaluation team.
February's Job Report as per BusinessWeek. Encouraging.
Martha, Martha, why won't you just go away?! Psychic goodwill my arse. It's pure capitalism. And yes, I know I'm for it but I just can't stand Martha Stewart. She makes me want to cringe. And it bugs me that the Son of Sam law can be gotten around.
Time for lunch.
Music for this morning - Funkadesi, Afro-Celt Soundsystem - if you ever saw these two bands live you'd understand my obsession with music.
J. Jill has a lovely website! You can chat live with a 'Concierge' and the webpage splits into frames and if the information you need is on the website, one frame will load that page. Now isn't that just brilliant?
Great Lines From Job Evaluations!
1. I would not allow this employee to breed.
2. This associate is really not so much of a has-been, but more
definitely a won't be.
3. Works well when under constant supervision and cornered like a rat
in a trap.
4. When she opens her mouth, it seems it is only to change whichever
foot was previously there.
5. He would be out of his depth in a parking lot puddle.
6. This young lady has delusions of adequacy.
7. He sets low personal standards and then consistently fails to
achieve them.
8. This employee is depriving a village somewhere of an idiot.
9. This employee should go far and the sooner he starts, the better.
10. Not the sharpest knife in the drawer.
11. Got into the gene pool when the lifeguard wasn't watching.
12. A room temperature IQ.
13. Got a full 6-pack, but lacks the plastic thingy to hold it
together.
14. A gross ignoramus - 144 times worse than an ordinary ignoramus.
15. A photographic memory but with the lens cover glued on.
16. A prime candidate for natural deselection.
17. Bright as Alaska in December.
18. One-celled organisms outscore him in IQ tests.
19. Donated his brain to science before he was done using it.
20. Fell out of the family tree.
21. Gates are down, lights are flashing, but the train isn't coming.
22. Has two brains: one is lost; the other is out looking for it.
23. He's so dense, light bends around him.
24. If brains were taxed, she'd get a refund.
25. If he were any more stupid, he'd have to be watered twice a
week.
26. If you give him a penny for his thoughts, you'll get change.
27. If you stand close enough to him, you can hear the ocean.
28. It's hard to believe he beat out 1,000,000 other sperm.
29. One neuron short of a synapse.
30. Some drink from the fountain of knowledge, he only gargled.
31. Takes him an hour and a half to watch 60 Minutes.
32. Wheel is turning, but the hamster is dead.
33. Since my last report, this employee has reached rock bottom and
has started to dig.
34. His men would follow him anywhere, but only out of morbid
curiosity
I had a very nice long post and then IE crashed on me. WHY WHY WHY DO I STILL USE THIS BROWSER?!?!?!?!
It was about cars and bras and penis envy and silicon bakeware. It had drama. It had comedy. There was suspense. It was a very good post. Grr.
Why is it that whenever the heroine finds out that her love for Anil Kapoor-type people is unrequited, she starts dancing madly? Wot is it about 'fury dances' that makes them so popular? And they're not even good! Just a whole lot of drumming sounds and the woman prancing around in something skintight. Also a lot of here-I-come-on-my-knees-sliding-across-the-floor business. Flashdance wasn't just a movie man, it was a revolution! It was a movement! It inspired women all across the world in the 80s to dance hideously when provoked. Brilliant.
Wotever hppnd to Sridevi? One day she just stopped showing up in phillums. I say we should all rise up in arms and revolt to bring Sridevi back to the big screen. Ten bucks says she was a smoker. Nobody's voice can be that horrible. It's like Rani Mukherjee's voice. And we all know SHE'S a smoker. Ergo.
I can't remember Khuda Gawah. I remember it was mindnumbingly bad. I want to see it again.
In fact, I want to have an old Amitabh Bachchan movie weekend. With lots of booze. And fun company so we can snort about how cheesy The Big B was in the 80s. Who's game?
In other glam sham, did you know the number one reason for the existence of the sub-continental "diaspora" (god, I hate that word) in the United States, Dubai or London is kissing? It's true. Meera's moving. It's a sad sad day when you are ostracized for your art. Innit? INNIT?
Would you check out the lineup in Kamal Haasan's Mumbai Xpress? You can only get this sort of collaboration with your caantacts man.
And I find it very interesting that Salman Khan's movie involves him playing a dance instructor coming to the aid of a pretty white chick. 'Cuz you KNOW he thinks he's all dat and dim sum. Yes. Verrry interesteeng indeeeed.
Do you remember that scene in Ajay Devgan's first movie where his first screen appearance is standing atop two bikes as the riders pull into some college *mad giggling*? Now they're doing washing machine ads.
Speaking of washing machine ads, we never did find out if Mrs. Dubey used to do pressure cooker ads in India.
So Born in Brothels won an Oscar. Very nice. Someone made a movie about children born to sex workers in India. Very humanitarian. The movie was shown in various film festivals and won lots of awards too. It also raised a whole lotta cash and was strangely never shown in India. How much of that cash was given to the subjects is wot I'd like to know. I can go to India and make countless movies about the "plight of the suffering masses". Doesn't really matter if nothing good is going to come of it. Personally, I don't think the lives of children born in Brothels should be used for entertainment value. But hey, that's just my opinion.
"We have a smoking, queen for you. Just sign here."
Sure, bubba, send him right up.
"This building is 100 years old, and the elevator is sort of scary. It is kind of like a cage, but you get used to it."
How long do you have to be in an elevator-cage to 'get used to it'?!
I wonder how Nishan is doing these days. If anyone sees Mr. Kohli, tell him Sudha was inquiring *mad giggle*. Meanwhile, check out one of my very favourite websites - iAgora. I remember talking to him in DC when this was in its infancy. iAgora sure has come a long way since. You know, for some strange reason, every time I think of you and Jay, I think of the Fab Five. Don't ask why.
So when I was in the store yesterday, purchasing Spaz (short for Spaztic, the yellow duck) and other misc. rubber duckies for The Googster, I thought about Marcel Marceau. And it made me smile.
Wot's a good site to plan a San Francisco vacation?
Yes, yes, hello, good morning, hope you slept well blah blah. I dreamt all the pigeons had gone mad and were chasing me and trying to poop on me. Not quite Hitchcock but very Hunter S. I could do with some coffee.
