Growing up and maturing

I find myself questioning my behaviour again. I re-discovered how poorly I react to rudeness, especially from strangers. It makes me see red. The thing about being mature grown up is to control one's behaviour to get the desired reaction from the other person. Yeah, I know that but it is so hard to practice it.

If I had my way, I would have driven to this retired Colonel's office, slapped him, kicked him in the groin for added effect and come back calm and composed, ready for a soothing cup of coffee. Instead, I spoke to him politely despite seething inside, took a cup of coffee and sat down to write this blogpost. Hey, maybe I did grow up!

An arranged marriage

If you are not a virgin, shut your mouth and don’t let him know. Just tell yourself and him that you have never smoked a cigarette, never gotten high on weed, never fancied another man. You were born just to wait for a man like him to wed you. That’s your life. That’s an Indian girl’s life. Happy arranged marriage darling. You know we love you and we will make you the best of who he deserves.

Matchmaker

My galpal, who seems to be having a blast since she got married to her boyfriend, is now spreading the word among her hubby’s single friends that I’m available. The guy she got me in touch with is 6’2”, goodlooking, funloving, successful software engineer, and a rich guy. I wonder if there’s something wrong with him. He’s too good a catch to be single. Does he like short, plump girls like me? Especially if they are a just a wee bit older than him? *sigh*

A perfect plan

On a dull day like today, I usually find myself thinking of my great (read brilliant) plans. One plan that could have worked well if I wasn’t so lazy or understood basic mathematics. One brilliant plan was to prepare for GMAT with Dr. A, cheat from his answer sheet, we both get selected into ISB and we live happily together and passout with fantastic jobs that pays us an unimaginably large salary and we build the perfect party house for us to bring home our boyfriends.

The reality remains that he’s jealous of the fact that I have decent working hours and weekends to myself and I try and keep his large salary package out of my mind.

It was a good dream anyway.

Gravitational pull of lethargy

It is one of those days when I cannot seem to feel anything. It feels like my body has found sudden affinity for gravity and is pulling me down and inside the core of the Earth. I’m not depressed or low even. The fact is that I am actually thrilled to know how at an important international publishing conference my boss spoke highly of my contribution and even had my photo shown on the screen. It means a lot to know that my work is being acknowledged especially when the person from whom I was supposed to learn the trade was fired 10 days after I joined and I had to figure out everything with little help from others. No I am happy and yet I cannot feel the lightness of joy right now.

It seems that all women around are feeling the same. My female colleagues are feeling the lethargy right to their bones. All of have spoken of taking a day of at work at one point or another. God knows what the matter is with all of us. I was thinking that it might have something to do with planetary positions (being an astrologer, it’s usually my first thought) but now I’m considering the possibility that there may be some virus that’s affecting anyone with XX chromosome (that’s the imaginative part of me thinking so).

However, this day is perfect to hold my big lovable Cookie and sleep off the lethargy…

Locking away a secret

It’s so hard to keep a secret sometimes. I am trying hard not to let my close friends know that I am so close to getting married. Married. There, I said it. A word that I abhorred when I was younger and now look forward to. Does it unnerve most people like it does me?

Most of my close friends were eager to get married to their present spouses. Some were love marriages but others were arranged marriages where my friends knew that they were ready to commit. I have been standing on the sideline unable to make up my mind for so long that it scares to think what will ensue from my decision. No matter what decision I take. Will I regret rejecting a man who seems to have the qualities that I have been looking for just because I don’t know him well enough to put my fears to rest? Do we ever know a person well enough? Or will I regret my decision to marry him just because I liked what I saw and it “felt” right to me at that time. I guess the only way to know the answer is to make a decision and go through with it.

And I have to keep it a secret till I come close to getting engaged. It's no use discussing something that may not materialise afterall. Besides, I have already seen how Dr. A, my best gay friend, behaved when he thought I was going away from him forever once before. I wouldn't want to be ignored by him while he gathers the strength to accept the fact that I will not be with him forever.

I’m keeping my fingers crossed and my heart strong in the meanwhile. This Pandora has locked a trouble by blogging anonymously.

Shiny new toys

I have been a good girl lately. Paid my bills on time, made investments and saved a moolah that I would have spent anyway, upgraded my wardrobe like mom and Tinkerbell wanted me to and hence I gifted myself a couple of things that I really wanted---a beautiful blue sapphire ring and an awesome Samsung Jet 2. They made quite a dent in my pocket but well don’t we earn to spend?

Of course I’ve felt guilty looking at my Nokia 7210 which is in perfect working order and bought just to end my “unreasonable” desire to buy expensive phones. I could not help it this time. I saw some shiny new phones and I lost my will to hold myself off the phone binge. I shelled out pretty pennies for a phone that’s oh so cool and retired my Nokia to a drawer where I would not have to look at it.

Come to think of it, the effect a shiny new gadget has on me is a lot stronger than when I see a hot guy. I mean, I still think a few seconds before drooling and obsessing about good-looking men but gadgets have me instantly. It’s almost a sexual attraction. No. I’m not kidding.

Mom and dad don’t understand my fixation with gadgets and books but thankfully they don’t interfere with my decisions. Tinkerbell on the other hand plays mind games that totally messes up my mind. She coaxed and convinced me to buying the phone saying “it’s super cool. Go for it. Listen to your heart. In fact I think I might just buy one myself!” and then when I bought it, she says “well, it’s pretty cool but I wouldn’t spend so much on a phone, you know?” No. I didn’t know.

So I’m ignoring the mild pinch I feel in my heart even now and telling myself that it’s an investment worth making since I do use my phones pretty well and often for things other than making and receiving calls---photography, for instance.

I’ve spent most of the battery just playing with the phone and figuring it out and having a blast doing so. I love how tenacious I get when I have to figure out all the functions in a new phone. Now if only I had the same tenacity towards other things in my life, life would be so much better. But let me not think about it. It’s time to play with the wonderful touchscreen.

Lady at work

I manage to shock people who have known me for a while. Yes, even now. Most people don't usually come across, what my mom calls, my rudra roop (when I get hopping mad and bite people's heads and hearts out). Sometime during my growing up years, I learnt that being aggressive was bad and I felt guilty about being "mean" and "un-lady like." I even came to the stage where I became a pushover to avoid displeasing anybody. Now I gag at the thought. In the past couple of years I've learnt the following rules:

1.      It's nice to be nice but it's so much better to true to your feelings. As long as I'm not lying, cheating or purposefully harming anybody, I rather be happy than be miserable. Simple.

2.      Eliminate the word "because" from my dictionary. I thank my friend (and an admirable senior colleague) for that advice. I no longer say "I don't want (you) to do this because…."  It's interesting to see how people react when you don't give an explanation when they haven't asked for it in the first place.

3.      Men treat work with pride and women with care. And quoting from http://professionalcareerist.wordpress.com/2009/10/18/emotions-at-work-a-predominantly-female-affliction/, "Pride vs Care. Pride implies one is happy with what one does, with the work they deliver and the results. Care implies conscientiousness, other's acceptance of the work rendered and the reflection of the quality of work. Pride is impersonal. Care is personal," which explains quite well why most women bosses go a tad overboard with their mother-hen behavior when it comes to handling their team. Men, when they usually take pride in the fact they have a team to do the work for them.

4.      Working means you need to learn how to play like a man. Let's face it, the women population in most work places is much lower than men's and reduces even more when one climbs the proverbial ladder of success. So learn the game. The point to remember is that men work just the way boys play in the field. There will be cussing and bruising but at the end of the day/play, there are no hard feelings. Women, on the other hand, become emotional as a result of what they think the other person feels toward them in that one instance…and every instance thereafter.

5.      Never cry at work. I loathe it when I find women crying at a workplace because someone said something to them. Aaargh! Re-read point no. 4.

6.      Self-promotion is not bad but the tact to do is, well, is to be learnt. Men, tone it down, will ya?  And ladies, speak up or don't bitch about others who do it and do it right.

How to rate a date

I found an interesting excerpt from an archaic book called “How to rate another date.” Though most girls would probably think that it is indeed pretty outdated way of rating a date when all that one needs is recall the evening to the good old girlfriends who’ll make the decision for you, I couldn’t help thinking that this is perhaps the way that I’m likely to rate my date. Maybe I’m an old-fashioned gal afterall.

All in a day's work

Yesterday, as I munched on a scrumptious seekh patty at Nathus's Pastry shop, I could not help but wonder how my life had changed for the better since September 2009, the time I accepted this new job and here I was today, munching on goodies on a working day, eating at the company's expense, doing an official job of tasting and selecting snacks for an upcoming office event. I smiled at the lemon tart in my hand as I pondered over it and by the time chocolate tart found its way to my mouth, I did not even complain about the chocolate in the tart, something I'm not very fond of. I watched my colleague, Alice, savor her mushroom patty and blueberry muffin with her eyes closed in ecstasy. "Dude, we have to have these muffins at the event. We just do." And then she proceeded to quickly jot down the menu and the price. We tried not to think of all the pastries that we bought at Wenger's to take home---personal purchases of course. By the end of the day, I was so full that I could feel the rims of the tarts I ate pressing against my ballooned tummy. Alice and I found our stomachs so full that we could barely breathe. Both of us groaned and crawled back to office with bright smiles.

And I thought to myself, this was easier to digest than all that bullshit I had eat in the previous office. Then I had more pastries after dinner. I slept with an appropriate song running in my head:

…And I think to myself…what a wonderful world

 Yes, I think to myself…what a wonderful world

 Oh yeah!

Tinkerbell's dress-to-kill mission

Thank god for Tinkerbell, my sister, who has made her new mission to save me from the Peter Pan-like state I am stuck in (quite comfortably, I admit) into a refined working woman of today to suit my job profile. So no more animal-faced mufflers and socks, no more monochromatic ensemble (because I lack the function of color coordination since birth) and no more hey-look-I-fell-in-a-paintbox look either (for days that I do try color coordinating).

Tinkerbell also mentioned how I wasn't wearing age-appropriate earrings though she did not try to meddle with my basic need of wearing mismatched earring in each of my 8 ear piercings. God bless her!

She goes shopping with me and scrutinizes the clothes I pick up for myself. Now her range of reactions when I do like something include, "Are you serious? You like this???" "Please tell me you are joking!" "Absolutely NOT! Keep it back," "Think sophisticated. Not retarded." But since the time she has taken over my wardrobe at my request, I have been able to tell blue apart from black and even dared to differentiate between brown and tan. Now I have to find a way to fit into some of the super clothes that she finds on her shopping trips.

…or find a way convince the world that going naked is the way to be…

Girl and boy rules-1: Girls Rule

Thank god for creating man. It teaches higher mortals (read women) to appreciate themselves a little more.

When a man rushes to help a woman carry heavy boxes/books, opens doors for her, treats her a like she is the daintiest person he has ever come across, a woman turns a million times prettier than she is; she becomes powerful with the knowledge of what being a woman truly means.

On the other hand, when a woman treats a man like he is the best thing that could have ever happened to him, she promptly turns into his maid/pastime when there's nothing on TV/ babysitter/nurse. Of course, there are men who would disagree and state the numerous times where they paid attention to their love interest and she spat a deadly combination of fire and venom at his face. Well, buddy, with no due respect to you, you were being a jerk.

Let's deal with the facts here:

Guy interested + girl uninterested = guy is a jerk

Guy uninterested + girl interested = guy is a jerk

Guy interested + girl interested = that's love.

The rule is just as simple as the other rule of life, "girls don't fart."

Of love and hate

I saw him all night. In my dreams. That would explain why there was no violence when we met. Eachtime I meet him, I feel the same way as I do when I am happy and enjoying just being myself. That's how I know that I love him a little more than I hate him. Now when we talk over the phone, our conversations always lead down on oft-beaten path. And the only reason we have lasted as friends as long as we have is probably because, as I once told him, we don't live in the same city. It's as if we both sharpen tongues and claws after 2 minutes of curtesy talks. 

"Hi! Whatcha upto?"

"Hey! Nothing in particular, yaar. Just got back from office. So, what made you call me?"

"Can't I even call you just to ask how you are?"

"Ofcourse, you can. Why do you have to get offended by everything I say?"

"Offended?! I'm not offended. You just seem to twist everything to mean something else altogether."

Blah, blah, blah. Grrrrowwll.

Silence for 1 or 2 months and then more often than not, the conversation goes as mentioned above.

The scariest part, when I think in retrospection, is that it does not even matter who said what in the above dialogue. We both have used at point or another.

Can't live with him. Can't live without him. Sigh.

I need to gargle with some vodka tonight.