Art Therapy

25 Jan

Hello everyone,

I know,  I know I was supposed to blog more often, but I’ve just been dealing with quite a lot of stuff (which I will be telling you about soon). So, today I channeled all that angst/confusion/worry into painting my cupboard. It is inspired by something I saw on Pinterest. I hope you like it. Will be back soon with stories.

 

 

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The Canada question

12 Jan

Since we’re being honest, I am going to tell you about this choice I have to make. It’s about Canada obviously, I believe all my readers are intelligent enough to have guessed that. Basically, I’ve been offered a plane ticket to visit Canada. “Why aren’t you on the plane already?” you ask with one eyebrow arched. Well, if I go, it’ll be in the summer after I’ve quit my job and figured out my post-graduation plans. Plus I still have to decide whether to go or not. “But it’s a ticket to Canada! Whyever would you *not* go?” you demand, raising the eyebrow higher. The person who offered to pay my way, you see, is a boy, whom I have history with. The whole trip will be terribly expensive so I’ll feel all Catholic Guilty about it. And yes, it’ll be so much fun, but there will be complications. It’s me, of course there will be complications. So, I have not made up my mind about it. I figure I have plenty of time to argue with myself and come to a decision. In the meantime, I’ve created a Canada Gauge to show you which way I’m leaning. So, here, I present:


It started with booze

3 Jan

How did I kick-of my New Year? At a party on a beach, with alcohol and a guy. How cliched right? Then again, my complexities are always simple in origin; preferences that are not difficult should not be made so. Also, I figured that if the Mayans were actually spot-on with their 2012 apocalyptic prediction (even though they failed to predict their own eradication), it would have been a pretty good way to go. I wore a black dress, danced in the drizzle, and had sex the morning after.

Why am I telling you this? I’ve been looking over my blog posts in 2011, and I’ve noticed that like the description above, most of the entries are entertaining and amusing, but very few reveal anything about what I was actually thinking or feeling at the time. Apparently, I’m as guarded in my writing as I am in real life. So, this year, I’m going to try to be painfully honest, undisguised as humor or wit. I think I’m already regretting this decision, heh.

So back to my New Year’s Eve. It was a decent party at a gorgeous beach house, the music was decent-ish and I spent a lot of time making out with this guy I’ve known for a while now in a FWB sorta way. I’ve always considered myself good at separating the physical from the emotional. Sex is sex. If that’s what you want, that’s all you should expect, right? Except when it’s not (I know, shocker right). Ive always followed Penny Lane’s (from Almost Famous) advice: “I always tell the girls, never take it seriously, if you never take it seriously, you never get hurt, you always have fun, and if you ever get lonely, just go to the record store and visit your friends. ”

The problem with this guy, is that he’s kinda a charming douchebag, and I’d already broken one of my cardinal rules by spooning with him. Talking is not the way to go people, it messes you up; he said I was “fucking talented” okay.  I knew I was getting attached, that there was no future in whatever we were doing, but I also knew that I would sleep with him again if we were in the same city. So I did, and then today, he updated his relationship status on FB to being in a relationship with someone else. He’s not going out with her, apparently, but just updated it to create drama. Which is being a dick. Apparently I’m only attracted to douchebags. So, even though I like the sex a lot, I just need to clear this unnecessary drama out of my year. As someone who just saw him cupping his junk a day ago, I would like to kick his nuts into his throat. Unfortunately I’ll have to settle for an angry rant about decency over the phone instead; let’s hope that he’s smart enough that my sarcasm doesn’t go over his head.

Moral of the story: Women need to feel loved to have sex and men need to have sex to feel love, so one of you will have to make up a fucking big lie to have it

OK Cathartic Diatribe over.

2012

3 Jan

Before a New Year post, let’s just tie up a couple of 2011 linger-ons.

I watched porn with a guy and critiqued it along the way. Spartacus is awesome FYI.

 

 

Had someone to kiss on New Year’s Eve =)

I was published again..sort of

15 Dec

So I was published in a paper – well to be more specific, a a picture I mentally composed, shot with a camera, and edited, was printed in an Indian English-language daily newspaper. Without my permission. It was meant to be a private picture but the person I took it with is kind of famous and the photo itself went viral on Facebook, which led to someone writing a ridiculous article-para on it. Yes. I’m quite sleep deprived or I’d probably do a better job at describing how hilarious the whole thing is. At this point, all that’s running through my head is “Wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuutttttttttttttttttttttttttttt?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Edit 20/12/2011

OK, so I’m being sly about this, but since I’ve over-achieved one of the goals this year, I’m just going to substitute this accomplishment for another item on the Things To Do list. It’s my blog, my rules, my choices so just shhssk. I think I will just cancel out

Have sex in the ocean – to be fair I was never looking forward to sea water and then sand in my vag.

Birthday heart balloons

13 Dec

I just realized that I can sort of tick off another item from the Things to Do in 2011 list –   Buy myself 50 of those red heart balloons at a go. It was my birthday a couple of months ago, so I met up with Evil Genius to celebrate my parents’ successful reproductive abilities with a birthday beer.  When we were drunk enough to walk and not stumble over, we left. When we reached the road, I noticed the balloon seller across the road, clutching  the strings to around 70 red heart balloons which levitated above his head in a scarlet cloud. I must’ve mumbled my usual wistful, “Ohhh I want those”, because the next minute I was running after Evil Genius through rush-hour traffic  at night towards the seller.

He didn’t buy me 50 balloons, but it was enough to make me happy. I grinned all the way home and the red hearts floated around in my room for the next week making me smile every time I saw them until I thought of other things to do.

The abstract or concrete?

7 Dec

We spend so much of our time on the internet that our digital existence sometimes acquire an equivalent significance to our real lives. It’s a magical place, true; this online world is one that is filled with dreams & recipes for soup. But it also decides which one you’re really hungry for.

You, yes you, two choices on the menu today – life in the abstract or the concrete?

Do not forget, we have our own kind of magic, filling the wind and the air.