february 29

there's a fresh flog with MORE pictures, all ready for you, right herre.

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weight: 122
bodyfat: 20

kcal: :)
vasa: :)

gym: intensive bis and tris
write: :)
dog: no. the neighbour borrowed her. yippee!

i REALLY need to go to bed...i'm trying to be up uber-early so that i can get tickets to see the most seminal, significant, spectacular band EVER, and they go on sale tomorrow morning...fucking insomnia. this is ONE occasion where i'm actually very irritated that i can't sleep. this reminds me of friday night, when i went to bed at 5am and had to be up at 8am so that i'd make it to the airport on time. i've been recovering from THAT ever since...it was such a hectic two days. i feel borderline sick b/c of it. that or i'm just paranoid about breathing the same air as all the refugee all-stars in the international (read: all brown and yellow) terminal. those were international germs!! though i've never watched the show, pudgesicle's mom always laughs when she sees "Monk", b/c apparently tony shahloub's character is just as terrified of dirt, germs, viruses, filth and common areas as i am...

...i went away for five minutes (not like any of YOU noticed!) b/c there's this amazing story on dateline NBC where they test strangers in new york city...obviously i'm all over THIS. what's the test? simple. what are strangers willing to do for four "actors" all armed with hidden cameras...i'm not telling you the whole story. i'm sort of concomitantly entranced/bothered by the investigation b/c:

a) it takes place RIGHT around rock plaza, my old playground

b) it provides an explanation for my charmed life in nyc that has way less to do with magical realism :(

they hired a male and female model, and borrowed a male and female staffer from the NBC offices and had all four of them do the same things: drop a folder full of papers, ask for change for a dollar, look lost and need directions, try to cut in line at the subway in the concourse that i always passed on my way to hallmark...anyway, they were all white, nicely dressed and doing these things in the same spots, in the same ways.

-folder dropping: the NBC staffers got NO kind of love, meanwhile entire gangs of people rushed up to help the models gather their papers...what was most interesting was how the male model just as many men as women helping him out...

-change for a dollar: again, the NBC staffers get denied. brusque "No."s are tossed their way. the models obviously get all the change they want-- the male model is straight-up told , "yeah, but only 'cause you're cute."

-lost/directions: the NBC staffers each spend five minutes obviously folding and unfolding a map whilst muttering to themselves. the models obviously have people rush out of their way to assist-- and the girl model gets escorted personally to her destination. (oy vey, that sounds familiar)

-cutting in line: all four got to do this, but what was ridic. fascinating was how the models inspired good-will by doing it! the people they cut in front of looked thrilled with being delayed, if it meant staring at hotness.

wow. i'm not totally convinced though. call it my inner ugly duckling rearing her indignant head, call it stupid, i could care less. the models were blonde, blue-eyed, teutonic deities. they weren't brown, brown-haired, brown-eyed Anna with an extra 20 pounds. hmmm.

anyway, it's now 3:30 and i'm so worried i won't wake up in time for tomorrow. my throat is sort of achey. gah. i HATE sore throats. i'm a weird kind of exhausted-- all of this excitement and haste...the house smells different! spices and incense...it's intoxicating. the simple knowledge that another human being sleeps upstairs is odd and good. i no longer haunt 3k sq ft all by my lonesome. my head is spinning with the emotional and physical weariness, though.

moms is worried about me. she obv. wouldn't say so, but i knew it, and earlier today, she confirmed it;

"how is she? she...has wasted away. the cases of food i bought before leaving sit here, untouched, where i left them. i don't think she was eating. she wasn't sleeping. you can see it on her face. it's a good thing i didn't go for longer...she's not well..."

moms is cute. she thinks that by meandering over in to the living room, i can't hear her. ha. i think one of my great-grandmother's sisters is undergoing a 3-day fast for me. i also think it's hilarious when christian people get all superstitious and irrational; they think satan is after me, or something. who knows, maybe he is. but i'm still amazed that ancient, wizened women are going to starve themselves over it. how is their not eating going to revive MY appetite?

in other news, easter officially commenced today. why? b/c i fucking said so. that and i ate a cadbury caramel egg. the first day that i consume easter candy, it's easter. so happy easter, everyone!

i just looked at the coffetable and saw mummy's adorable minolta dimage xt...twin to my venerable dimage x...she took some amazing pictures whilst away. i was massively proud of her. she was NOT a good photog when we were younger-- was famous for decapitating people with the SLR etc. i think two years of me demanding she take pics of me paid off b/c her digital is nearly identical to mine, so she had some sense of how it all worked. it's so wonderful to see things from her eyes; everything is a little different. her pictures of the taj don't remind me of anyone else's, and i give her major respect for that.

in other news, my baby nephew has a huge head. he's 18 months old and i can't believe he doesn't topple over with that melon. saji, if you're reading this, you know which cousin unfortunate baby michael got THAT dna from...

huh. it was leap day. i almost felt panic when i read this one email earlier about "availing yourself of this rare day by doing significant things" b/c i didn't really find it special, and i didn't do a damn thing differently. this was really starting to bother me. thank goodness i decided that it's just another silly day. that and i can never quite tell what time or day it is, thanks to my currently addled state. also, i often think of things in terms of new york/est. so that just murkies up the issue further. off with its head!

i feel like nibbling. mom made that evil, uber-spicy aloo curry that is really "meen curry" but we're veg so fish will have no invite to this here house...it's soooo good. nothing irritated my mom more than when i used to go sneak over to the stove and poach things out of random curries/sabjis. and i was never slick enough to hide my tracks-- i always left the offending fork somewhere near the stove. maybe i secretly WANTED to get caught ;) "why do you do this? take some in a plate and eat! you are not an animal!"
to which i would always reply, no, i don't want to, it tastes better on the stove. "that is a load of bull, latha. stop contaminating food!" i'm not contaminating it ma. i'm BLESSING it with my spit. you should be so lucky that my fork touched something you will later eat. "your father RUINED you! you are obnoxious!"

as proof that i am now a fragile, wounded little thing who must be indulged, she remained silent when she saw the fork. i think she was actually happy about it.

don't worry. i don't do it when company comes over. ;) she'd beat me with a rolling pin if i did :D

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damn. moms just woke up. she's not at all happy that i'm all awake. "what. is. wrong. with. you."
um, insomnia? "have you read the bible? that always knocks you out." no, i haven't. "you just sit on computer all night?" ahem, i'm WRITING. she looks all hopeful; "i see that your blanket is turned on...were you IN bed, and then you got out?" no. i leave it on for a few hours so that it's toasty when i slip my abnormally cold self in, finally. she shakes her head at me and begins ascending the stairs, bottle of water in hand.

i absolve myself of guilt; the captain thinks that i'm a violent typist (and fyi, he thinks it's endearing) but i'm not THAT loud. oh, wait. jet lag. poor, poor mummy. she has to go to work in four hours. :(

the only person i feel worse for is my dear "uncle" sam, who apparently has a toothache. see? i pay attention to the away messages. ;)

okay. that's it. it's 4am, i NEED a few hours of sleep, i will NOT miss out on the biggest deal of a concert EVER b/c of freaking insomnia...

"must be a devil, between us..."

or whores. ;)

Comments

[Sam]

"it provides an explanation for my charmed life in nyc that has way less to do with magical realism :("

You're surprised about the little NBC experiment? Or you just don't want to believe it might be so, and that had you been ... oh, male and not as attractive, that the gods of fortune might not have smiled upon you in the same way?

"wow. i'm not totally convinced though. call it my inner ugly duckling rearing her indignant head, call it stupid, i could care less. the models were blonde, blue-eyed, teutonic deities. they weren't brown, brown-haired, brown-eyed Anna with an extra 20 pounds. hmmm."

Now you're talking like a Californian. HELLO! How do guys in NYC like their women -- pale and bleached or dark? (Besides which, weren't you a blonde back then?) Similarly with the weight -- most guys in NYC want you at +20 lbs. You'd have some curves and you'd be more approachable.

Now, I'm sure that your charm was an important part of the equation. But trust me, if we were to do to you what the make up artists did to Charlize to make her look like Wuornos ... do you really think that you'd get the same treatment no matter how charming you were?

Face it, even in NYC, people are shallow. Sometimes it's b/c they've internalized a pecking order. Sometimes it's b/c they get a thrill out of doing something for somebody attractive. Sometimes it's b/c they enjoy the attention.

But it's NYC. Everybody has an angle. Always. You just need to find out what it is.

[r.karthikeyan]

good