"Self-sufficient"

(Wheee two months!)

I was deep in serious conversation with the Object of Affections the other day and he said something that precipitated an epiphany around a subject The Bride and I have been debating for a very long time. 'I've always thought I'm pretty self-sufficient,' he said, 'but I have realized I'm really lonely.' And then it all came to me in a big whump--what the fuck does that even mean?

When someone says they're self sufficient, or they "don't NEED anybody" (as Lithium is very fond of saying whenever I am feeling particularly insecure of my place in his life), what exactly do they mean? I've poked and prodded and probed and usually it seems to come down to 'I won't make myself vulnerable to anyone'. On the face of it, that's a pretty worthy ambition to have. If you're not vulnerable, then you can't be devastated by someone (which is usually what's happened to make people wary of letting it happen again). This makes eminent sense. Only, it is also fairly impossible.

Think about it. What does it mean to be completely emotionally independent? Does it mean that you never call anyone when you're having a bad day? A good day? A bleh day? Does it mean you never think of any person when you need comfort? Does it mean you never show your emotions to another person? And, most importantly, in the case of people who say they have always been like this, does it mean you never have done any of these things?

For most of us, we have some sort of bond with our families. Maybe only one parent, maybe a sibling.We had at some point, a best friend, a gang of brats we played gully cricket with. A cousin who visited one summer and we spent hours talking to. A first love. A latest love. Homo sapiens is a social species. That's how it is defined; that's how it evolved and that's WHY it evolved. So why must we constantly try and deny this? There are some people who have has horrific lives of abuse and loss and they cannot say they had these things, and we tend to see that as tragic. Then why do we act like this is something we actively want to encourage, like it's a state of being that should be worked towards?

Because we're terrified. Heck I'm terrified. I live in a constant state of low-grade terror--that occasionally spikes up to high grade terror--because of the number of people I am vulnerable to. But somewhere along the way I realized the vulnerability is the flip side of love. In some ways the definition of loving someone IS giving them the capacity to hurt you. And they usually do, but that doesn't mean they don't love you, or even that they meant to. Sometimes, as happened with Boytoy recently, when he decided he's ready to find a real girlfriend and move out of our fake relationship, it's entirely incidental and even you know it. And you know, all the naysayers who told me this was a mistake because he was going to move on and I'd be hurt will be nodding right now, only if I hadn't let this happen I would never have had all the love he does give me still.

But I digress (as always heh). So what happens is there is a whole generation of people who hold their "self-sufficiency" high like a flag and drown alone in their loneliness, because they cannot even admit to themselves that they ARE lonely, let alone begin to do something to make life better. And that's what I told OA. How can it be strange for a thirty-year old, like me, to feel the pull of companionship? In my case, I would really love to make a plan that doesn't have to come with an inbuilt potential date of termination. In my case, when I'm plummeting to the depth of the pit where my demons live, how can I not want a hand to hold, a warm body breathing steadily next to me, or even in the next room? How can we persist in believing that this is abnormal and weak? There is no shame in needing companionship, in seeking a partner, in "settling" because you don't want to be alone. We are not programmed to be alone--we're just telling ourselves that because we're scared.

As for the the other ways to look at self-sfficicency, The Bride has done an excellent job of summarizing our views.

Weverb12 #13 associate [LISTEN]

What blog/book/article spoke to you the most in 2012?*

Okay, this is the perfect opportunity to open myself to a slew of outrage, but also talk about something I've been meaning to post about for a while.

Now I am a subscriber to the theory that the more recent something is more likely it's impact on you remains strong--that's why the end can ruin a movie or a book for example, so I'm going to say that when I think of books I've read I can only remember the ones I've read very recently. I know I read two Junot Diazes; I read Middlesex, which was utterly brilliant; I read Song of Achilles; I read truckloads of chicklitt that spoke to me, and even some non-fiction. But I don't really remember them actually speaking to me, saying Yo MinCat, ever thought about this?

The one book I read this year that actually did that to me and, mind you, I read it in May, was Fifty Shades of Grey. (Cue outrage.)

There was just something compelling about that book, much like Twilight, which might come from the fact of the subject matter being, once again, obsessive possessive love, and my never having felt it. I do think that with FSG however it was more than that. I definitely have my problems with both books on an intellectual level, but I also have problems with people who object to FSG on an intellectual level while refusing to engage with it on a emotional level or an instinctual level, because at the end of the day that's the level at which it is written. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I'm fairly open about sex and sexuality, and am willing to try anything once, at least hypothetically. But BDSM is something that has always just freaked me out, even the thought of it. So when I read this book, it was with much skepticism, because really, BDSM? But then, suddenly, I found myself thinking WOAH this is HOT. Suddenly I found myself reading what was in the head of this girl who thought exactly the same way as me--what is wrong with a guy that he needs to debase me, abuse me, to get off? And then, once she gives in and likes it--what is wrong with ME that *I* am getting off on being debased and abused? And, by extension, I was thinking what is wrong with me that I'm turned on by this whole thing?

The book actually makes you stop and let go of prejudice for a minute and accept that sometimes you need to recalibrate 'normal' to understand yourself, and you really shouldn't be so hard on yourself. Of course the rest of the trilogy goes on to completely destroy this whole openminded thing cos after all, Christian is into BDSM cos he's been abused, cos it's not normal etc., which is just sad, because FSG is such a great gateway book. And it really did make me think a lot, about sexuality, about boundaries, about trust, about control, and all these thing in my own life. (Okay, I also had a crush on that incredibly in-charge man, who just takes over your life--I wouldn't mind one of those for a while!**)

Which brings me to, if a book can make you think about these things, how can you dismiss it out of hand just because it's 'a bad book'? I'm not for one second saying the writing is good--it's dreadfully cheesy; I swear I wanted to SHOOT THAT FUCKING INNER GODDESS! But many so-called good books have terrible writing too--they just err in the direction of being obscure. One notable example from this year is From the Ruins of Empire by Pankaj Mishra--impossible to read, but a fascinating subject.

It does all come down to what an individual wants from a book, and what the intelligentsia wants to think it can guide them to. It comes down to thinking that oh the poor dears, they don't know better, let us guide them. Who died and made you president? People read what they want. Yes, the reason the Fifty Shades trilogy (and the Bared to You trilogy) does so well is mainly because people want socially sanctioned porn. Yes the writing is execrable--but it's pornographic Twilight fan fiction! Twilight itself is hardly well written. And, in defence of FSG, Anastasia has way more balls than Bella! She stands up for herself; she wants a life beyond Christian and she demands it. She doesn't jump off cliffs so she can hallucinate hearing his voice. Sheesh.

Yes, it makes me sad that Amish Tripathi sells the way he does in India, but, on the bright side, it means people are reading. It means some day people may read a Sidin Vadakut instead of a Chetan Bhagat and slowly, step by step they might come to the point where they are reading Amitav Ghosh. But this ladder itself is built from my own preferences--why must they read Ghosh at all? I myself spend an inordinate amount of time NOT reading literary fiction--I even dismiss the genre derisively most of the time. So if I can read what I myself call trash, why do I shake my head and tut tut when other people want to read it? This obsessive need to pass judgement on what is and isn't acceptable is very scary sometimes.

Okay now I will stop because this is turning into rant on publishing, which really merits its own post.


*Is it just me or is there some repetition happening here?
**That's a whole other post on feminism and my own life...

Political

The other day, I came into work and my boss, who has this endearing and sometimes (to other people, cos I love it) habit of randomly starting conversations as she walks in by addressing a general question to the floor, asked us: 'Could you be friends with someone who supported the BJP?'

Both she and another senior colleague proceeded to discuss how they couldn't imagine it, and the very support of the BJP made them both shrink in horror from someone, simply because of the communal import of the BJP. But when I thought about it, I realized that there are so many people who think the BJP stands for other things, or that the other things it stands for outweigh the drama of the militant Hindu politics it also espouses. I know many people who believe the Modi style of governance means better and faster development for the country, and the nastiness of his religious politics is balanced by the genuine improvement in quality of life that he brings.

With the US elections on and twitter exhorting Indians to worry about Modi, I began to think about it. Normally hilarious Sidin had this up on the subject of voting in the next elections and man it really hit home. What can I do? Yes I want to participate in the democracy. Yes, I have loudly told people, if you didn't vote then you gave up your right to comment on the government. But I think, as the day creeps closer, that I might just have to face the fact that my only choice will be to withdraw from participation. Because what can I do?

I remember, in 2004, I voted independent, because I refused to vote for the BJP or for Sonia Gandhi. Thrilled by Manmohan's appointment, I vociferously argued with BJP supporters in the 2009 elections, and happily voted Congress, while entertaining all the people who stood in line with Amma and me for an hour. And when UPA2 came back better than ever, I thought YES!!! SHOW THEM!!! This country is not about privileged urban residents who the newschannels tap. It's not about rich businessmen who don't pay taxes. The country votes right. When they're pissed off, they kick the government out, and when they are happy, the keep them around. Because the Congress did help the majority of India, voiceless, faceless, power, health and sanitationless rural India. And now they were back stronger than ever, and they wouldn't need to kowtow to ridiculous coalition demands.

And then they gave Mamata Banerjee the Railways.
And then they proceeded to freeze themselves into a ridiculous farcical tableau of ineffectiveness, for no fathomable reason. Whenever they reacted, it was too late. Scam after scam has surfaced, and they seem to stand there and whimper. And let us not speak of the abomination that is Anna Hazare. This does not mean that other governments have not been corrupt--I think it is a tragic reality of Indian politics (that might owe its origins to several thing and someday I might write a thesis about that) that all governments are and will be corrupt. And the so-called aam admi, who bribes to get out of challans and uses black money and evades taxes cannot stand in judgement of this. It is horrible and sad and it should change, but until it does can we please try and continue to function?

Of course the Opposition has hardly been stellar. The BJP has it's strengths; possibly even ideas that can dramatically alter the nation, but as long as our Parliamentary system operates on a I-lost-so-I-will-shout-and-sulk-and-throw-tantrums-so-you-will-fail policy, we're screwed. This will happen regardless of who is in power, and therefore nothing will ever happen.

I am reaching a level of disgust with our democracy that amazes me, since I have always been such a supporter of it. And I genuinely don't know what I will do come next year when I have to vote.

Mind your language

No, this isn't a Grammar Nazi's response to this.

So, I am active on Couchsurfing. I love the site, and I've really met some amazing people through it. I've also had lots of fun from it. Since I started hosting in Delhi, I've met and hung out with about four or five fun people and hosted three Colombian guys, one of whom integrated so well into my life I was tempted to keep him. forEVAR. The next surfer I expect to host is Chinese.

Now, with my profile, I usually get requests from southern Europeans and Latin Americans. So I was surprised to see this Chinese guy write, but he seemed normal and once he figured out his dates I said ok, I'll host you. He asked me if I have Whatsapp so we could keep in touch, and then began to text me. It's actually super convenient when people have it because then no international texts or calls are necessary. Anyway, we chatted desultorily about what he was expecting to do, etc. I was impressed by his English, he was surprised I know where canton is, and so on.

Then last night, he texted to say: I am preparing some gifts for you. do you have some special likes?
It is actually quite normal I have discovered, for surfers to get their hosts a present. It's a very sweet gesture but I don't really expect it and it embarrasses me mildly. So I said no, you don't have to. He said no, I want to. I said okay, I like fans and I LOVE green jasmine tea. He said: Sure. i will bring that for you. I said: Awww. Thank you. And then things began to get a little creepy.

Him: feeling excited to meet me?
Me (slightly disturbed): Haha it should be fun :)
Him: did you meet any Chinese guy before?
Me (alarm bells begin to ring): Nope
Him: now you have the chance
Me (completely nonplussed at this point): Haha
Him: I could accompany you for drinks haha
Me (freaked out): Well that depends. Okay, I gotta go.

So here's the thing. With SuperSurfer, that's exactly what we did. We lay around my house drinking desultorily and having insane conversations. I consumed an impressive amount of alcohol with him. But there was no creepy. With the other two guys also I went drinking. Going drinking is my usual proposition! Sometimes I take them to Flamenca's concerts. So what he proposed wasn't unnatural in the least. Why did it ring all my alarm bells?

I was talking to (of course) The Bride about it this morning and I realized that maybe it has something to do with language. As someone with a highly developed sense and use of language, I tend to associate certain traits with various levels of facility with language. I try and consciously not do that, and make an effort with people to bridge language gaps, but undeniably, sharing a language just elevates the experience. Of all the Spanish speakers I know, only the truly bilingual SuperSurfer managed to connect with my friends the way the rest connect with me. So when someone who does not the ease I expect from a certain kind of interaction, I am a little reserved. The kicker here, though, is that he sounds EXACTLY like an I-want-to-make-fraandship type. And that's just plain scary.

Again, I wonder if it's really fair even to those types. I mean, the Hag used to date this Spanish professor friend of mine and when they broke up she said that it was because it was impossible to have a conversation with him beyond a point because it was hard to take someone seriously when they sound autistic in your language. to which I replied, but he has no problem with language! We talk all the time! (See where this is going?) And she fixed me with a stare and said drily, yes, you two talk in Spanish. So maybe the IWMF types are superbly intellectual and articulate in their own languages but sound like douches in English?

When I think of Flamenca too, who is such an insanely mad person that most of the mad friends should love her, they can barely relate to her because they won't make the effort needed to bridge that gap, and she's trapped with her personality all piebald and peeling in this language that is not hers. And mind you, she's a tour guide so her English is decent. It's just not as good as her Spanish. And, again, as I often find with Spanish, it's frustrating to keep trying to articulate something when you are accustomed to seamless articulation in your own language and you keep having to use not the best word and you just know you could SAY IT BETTER. So I'd say you definitely don't shine at your best in a foreign language (even if it is one of the eighteen official languages of your country...).

But then how much does this actually end up colouring things? Should I just slam the door closed and say bye bye to Chinese guy? That's what I'd do to okc guys or random desi guys I meet who are like that. Or to Latinos I've met who are like that in Spanish--by which I meant giving me creepy vibes, like the desk clerk at Tayrona who wouldn't let go of my hand and said oh hod how can your boyfriend allow someone as beautiful as you to leave his sight, and Indian women are so sensual and so on. Or should I give the guy a chance--it's only one night and I can release the killer G-Jams on him. Do you think that if he is essentially creepy it will come through regardless of language, while interesting or not might not?

The Rational-Emotional Disconnect

You know how sometimes someone does something that hurts you (like a friend who you haven't seen in a month comes to your birthday party and then wants to leave soon after, and isn't particularly nice to you, and then calls you about making a plan to do something nice for someone else's birthday) but then you know, rationally, that it's not a big deal (being nice is not their thing, it's not actually your birthday, and said person has warned you several time that they are thoughtless, and you know they are in a tantrum mood and therefore what to expect from them). At this point, you are upset. But you also know that saying something will get you branded as irrational.

Then there's this scenario, where someone does something that irritates or annoys you intensely (your parents are stressing out about someone you're seeing), and while you know they mean it for the best (you have had a series of bad relationships, said person is insolvent or from a vastly different background). Again, you are upset, and again you know that people will keep throwing logic at you.

I was thinking about this once, well okay I was thinking about how often I am upset but I can't get past it because I can't do or say anything because I am a rational person, an 'adult' and I like to think I can and do behave in a rational manner. This often leaves me feeling very frustrated. So, when Dragon picked BBot, I had this whole thing where I was choking in misery, and when I was talking to Disco Dancer about it he really upset me because he insisted on saying, well, she is an adult, she made a choice, you can't dictate how long it takes someone to attach to someone, or blame them for who they choose. Which were all very valid points, point, moreover, that I kept making to myself. Then why did it make me cry?

It occurred to me that everyone operates on two parallel levels--the rational level and the emotional level. As we get older we tend to start privielging the rational level over the emotional one (to wit, you can't stamp your foot and demand that you be important to someone--you are or you're not. But it still hurts like the BLAZES.). So then we discard, nay ignore, the emotional response, because the rational one is the one that will give us the right behaviour in the end.

The problem is, there has to be a balance, and unless the rational and emotional level are both acknowledged and dealt with, you can't really get past the hurt completely--you become harder, cynical, whatever. And, while it is true that most of the time the rational level is right, this does not mean that the emotional response doesn't exist. (We tend to flagellate ourselves for even having an emotional response usually.) So when you're dating, and a person behaves a certain way, you beat yourself up saying, see? You KNEW they'be a jerk. Then why did you have to be stupid and get attached? Now deal with this shit and move on.

I call this the Rational Emotional Disconnect, and it is the single most debilitating problem I have with all the things I do in my life. Until I can align the two levels and their responses I find that I simply can't get past things that happen to me.

For the longest time I thought the RED was only one way--you have an emotional response and you suppress it. But then it struck me, that often, once you're in a relationship with someone, you start to privilege the emotional over the rational. If you love me you should know better. You know, some days it's not that your partner doesn't love you, it's that they're having a shitty day, or they're tired, or stressed, or you didn't communicate your upsetness. So the rational response has to be heard too before anything can be done.

I've started to try and do this thing now where, when I'm upset, I sit down and think it all through, all the emotional stuff and the rational stuff. I say it to myself, or to a friend (read, The Bride), and then, once I've exorcised the reaction as it were, I can stand back and figure out which was what response and which one is the better one to use in this situation. And let's not assume the rational one is always best--sometimes an emotional response is what the other person needs from you--but then we all train ourselves to deny emotional responses so much that we can't bring them out, which then makes the other person feel bad and suppress theirs and the endless cycle of people are so cold begins.

How it changes

When I was about 16, and the internet was just taking root properly in India (and a friend and i would email each other photos of hot actors we likes ahem), I had this email address on hotmail*, that was easily confusable with another one. My uncle sent me an email about the SAT that went to this other person, who turned out to be a 3-4 year older guy in Bombay. He realised the email was important to replied saying I think you've got the wrong id (who does that anymore??), and so I wrote to say thank you. We wrote back and forth, moved to chat and then one day, he called me! On the phone! I remember it as being really late at night, but I imagine it was about 9pm. It all fizzled out in the end, but I remember how supportive my mum was about it--after all it was before teh interwebs became widespread enough to be evil.

Several years later, when I was 22 or so, I was on a poetry emailing list called minstrels, that would send you a poem a day (ah I wish someone would revive it), and often readers would send in poems they liked. I did that once, with Michael Ondaatje and once with Derek Walcott. One of those times, a guy wrote to me to tell me it was a great poem, and we began to write back and forth, and there began a very enduring friendship with one of the nicest people I have ever know. I went to Bombay to see him. It was also my first visit to Bombay and he took me to dinner somewhere nice and was very kind and big brotherly to me for three years or so. We even wrote each other GINORMOUS letters at one time. We're not terribly in touch anymore, though there is still the random sms.

This was also the time I reconnected with Oldest Friend, and we'd spend hours chatting. Then I got onto xanga, and met this group of amazing people. It was a lonely time for me, and I felt like they kept me alive. I went to Bombay and met them all. I spent HOURS chatting with them. Today, I don't really see or talk to most of them much, OF included, but they're there in the background, and they really made a difference in my life at the time.

That time around though, people thought I was weird. My family was suspicious and my friends downright mocked me. 'How can you meet people online? How can you be assured of a person until you've met them?' etc. My mother always said, if you have interests and go out you'll meet people.

Right now, the most important and interesting people in my life I have met online. CB, and through him MW (you remember them from yesterday). Also Lithium (who I am ashamed to say I was thoughtless enough to leave out, though he has been a transformative person in the past three months of my life). And today, I met a guy who is as randomly latindio as I am latindia, is in love with Colombia, and works on wildlife conservation--specifically tigers. We spent an hour and a half on the 5th floor terrace of a cafe in Hauz Khas Village tumbling over our words, leaping between languages, in our need to agree and share and just talk about all these things we have in common, parts of ourselves that we can never really share with the majority of people we know in India. It was a magical feeling**: someone in INDIA, FROM India, actually GOT it. 

My point is, CB, Lithium, Latindio, they're all people I would never have met otherwise. CB and I have a lot of friends in common, but it's only because we know each other. Lithium and I had actually met in the past but I had no idea, and I never would have expected this friend out of that meeting. And of course, Latindio. For all the gym, salsa classes, mad socializing both for work and just cos I like it, for all the effort I have put in to meet people I can connect with, it's only teh interwebs that has given them to me. I think of it as a sign of how everything is changing--the ways we keep in touch, the meaning of keeping in touch, the ways we find community and belonging; they're all changing.

 *Remember hotmail? When it was all we had? Thank the lord for progress!
**Pipe down he's clearly gay and far too young

Give us a break

So this morning the Good Men Project had two lovely and highly contradictory articles up. (Actually one of the reasons I love them is precisely because they do that--post all sorts of perspectives at all strengths.) The theme this week seems to be online dating, and the first of the pieces (in the order in which I read them) was this one, about being a man while on a date. The second was this one, about giving men a break because in the dating world, all the onus is on them. (I wonder how I'd have reacted if I'd read them in reverse order?)

Summarizing for those too lazy to read ;), the first one says that when it comes to the first date, be the man, take charge. Pick the location, pay for the date, text her the next day. The second one says that its 2012, men have to ask out, hold the door, propose, bring home the bacon, pay for dinner, etc. Cut them some slack.

I gotta say, I loved the first one. Yes, I can pay for dinner or go Dutch. Yes I am perfectly capable of getting myself home, and if I want to talk to you, I have your number and I can call. But when it comes down to it, even if I'm not evaluating you as future provider, etc, it's nice to let go and have someone take charge once in a while. I think that, in the context of me, and my peers, we've established that women and men are equal. Unfortunately, in the process, we seem to have established that the acceptable way to enact this equality while dating is to be discourteous--don't call, if you do you're needy; if a guy does something kind like offer to carry something, he's being sexist, just cos he's a guy and you're a girl; don't give people advance notice of things, you should keep them on their toes, etc.

The main reason why I'm totally with the first article is very simple: it's a first date, and you're essentially there to get a sense of the person. This does not mean a woman cannot be assertive and take charge. However, if you buy into the whole women are in power in the dating marketplace thing, since they, ultimately, are the ones who decide if anything is going to come of it at the beginning, then they are the ones who have to be given a good sense of who you are, so they can then decide fairly.*

Of course, having gone on god know how many terrible first dates in 2011, and having dated a pathological ditherer who drove me CRAZY with his inability to pick a restaurant, and generally never having been on the receiving end of a date like the one he describes there, I'm not exactly unbiased.

The problem arises when either or both parties thinks that this is or should be the norm. If I received a first date like that, I'd return the favour on the second date. Of course the problem that crops up there is that, whether they admit it or not, the standard desi man does NOT like women who take charge. Once you do, you're bumped. Which brings me to what's unfair about the dating world for women--we have to be equal and step up and take on our share of things, but do it in a delicate unobtrusive way that will not bruise the fragile egos of the men.

Conclusion?
Don't date.


*Notice that I'm saying this is in the specific context of dating today where women are supposed to have all the power. Haven't seen much of that vaunted power myself, but still...

Honesty is such a lonely word*

I've been having a lot of chats with people on the subject of honesty. For example, I wish The Dragon had been honest with me about whatever it was that was bothering her about our relationship, so we could have tried to fix it, instead of sneaking away into the night like Barney Stinson. I wish I had been able to be honest with myself about how I felt about BBot and how he was disappointing me much earlier, so we could have escaped the long and drawn out ending.

The one big honesty question that comes up though is: Should I tell my SigOth I cheated?**

Now y'all know what I think constitutes cheating, but most people don't agree. Everyone says you have to tell the person it happened. I'm not so sure.

I did begin on this whole, ultimate honesty is always required--if you love someone you shouldn't lie, etc. A lot of this came from people trying to let me down gently and me reading too much into it, so I'd say, just TELL me straight out that you don't like me like that, don't string me along! Then, also, I had that whole sex-is-sacred-and-can-be-had-only-with-love thing going on. This, coupled with crippling insecurity meant that of course it was unacceptable for anyone to cheat, and then to not tell me would be compounding it horrendously, because you had BETRAYED MY TRUST IN YOU.

Then I went and grew up a bit, heh. I learned that the only person who could heal my insecurity was me--cos no amount of reassurance will stop me from needing more, and if what I have with someone isn't enough, they'll leave anyway, so why spoil the time we have together by stressing about it? I realised that sexual fidelity isn't a big deal for me, so whatever. Sure tell me about it, or not. Just use protection, kay?

Dan Savage, that wonderful man whose columns you should subscribe to if you're on Google Reader, has a very valid point, one that I have come to see myself.

The reason we tell our SigOths about one night stands is this: we are guilty; we hate ourselves for doing this, usually because we know they would not like that we have done it; and we really want to atone for our error and ease that guilt. But, and it's a big one, exactly what does telling your beloved partner that you got drunk and hooked up with your ex one night when they were gone achieve? Do you want to leave the SigOth? No. Do you want to do it again? No (If the answer is yes, THEN you have a problem). Not knowing that you slipped up will not hurt the SigOth. Knowing that you did and then having to deal with their own insecurities about you leaving them, when you have no intention of doing so, will traumatise them, and possibly forever destroy their ability to trust you or any other partner, and thus their peace of mind.

Telling someone about a hookup serves one purpose only--to make you feel less guilty--and not very well at that. You can tell yourself you've been honest, but then you also know you've hurt the person horribly, and you are guilty of a far worse crime. Yes, you can argue that if it hadn't happened in the first place it would all be moot, but nonetheless, in terms of the pain you cause your partner, telling them is a far worse crime. And yet, they will want you to tell them, because of this 'sacred covenant of honesty'. Makes no sense to me...

*Hands up people who've heard the song.
**Here I mean unplanned, random hookups, one night stands. Not saying that other kinds aren't fine, but that goes into the whole how-you-define-your-specific-relationship thing.

Bringing sexy back

How cliche a title heh.

So, moving on from all the various things I've written on the subject of body image in general, and mine in particular, the writer of this article has exactly the same beef as I do with the world today. Why does everyone outwardly subscribe to that stupid stupid idea of sexy that is narrowly defined by society?

Mind you, I'm not saying I never do--whether in myself or other people. Yes, I'm often uncomfortable at parties and clubs because I don't think I can begin to compare to all those stick thin, silky-haired drop dead gorgeous women floating about (nearly literally). Yes, I usually expect guys to not find me attractive, though it rarely lasts past five minutes anymore thank god. Yes, my heart skips a beat when I see a tall, lean man who is clean-shaven and wears nice clothes.

But I also never, ever, thought I would be practically incapacitated by my attraction to short guys, fat guys, hairy guys, tattooed guys, long-haired guys or bearded guys. But it still happened, mainly because I was willing to give it a shot. And it worked. Similarly, I am often blown away by the power my body has over a variety of guys--but only those who are willing to admit that the social requirement of a attractiveness in women is not really valid in most cases.

So what is with us? We all know that different things work for different people. We all know that, when it comes down it, you can't really see the other person and they might really have moves that melt your bones. We all know that often a mental or emotional reaction can obliterate or outstrip any physical connection you might have. But we still continue to buy into and feed this whole idea of beauty, male and female, that causes so much misery!

Passionate about what?

That is such an overused and rather abused word. Passion. Find your passion. It's a passionate story. Pfft I say. It's the most overused (okay maybe second most after Harlequin, but no one takes Harlqeuin seriously, or at least enough people know that they shouldn't) when it comes tot hings like jobs.

For example, as the Bride said, have I always dreamed of coming to sit in an office and have to repeatedly consult dictionaries and usage manuals about the placement of zs and commas? Does it fill my heart with joy to think of the obnoxious authors who get to spew at me when they want, without the guarantee that someone senior will yell at them for it? (I'm lucky, my Commissioning Editor did, but it's very rare.) Can the need to correct the placement of every apostrophe, with intense consultation with three other people, be a calling? I don't think so. Editing is not very creative. It's not particularly challenging either, because, at the end oft he day, the author calls the shots, and his or her name is on the cover. I can suggest a better way to say something, but they can keep the shite. It pays nothing.

But I wouldn't say I'm unhappy in my job. It know what's expected of me. I know I'll be home and free of work at 530pm. I know I will get vacation when I want it. I know I will have many long and amicable conversations with colleagues on all sorts of stuff, not the least how annoying a particular person is. I also know that if something goes out with *gasp* an inconsistent style, no one will die. No great horrific thing will happen. It doesn't have a lot of room for failure; but it doesn't have a lot of room for success either. Which is fine. I took something I'm good at, and I found a niche where I have the space to work at my pace and indulge in all the other activities I want.

The tiny paycheque does hurt, I will give you that. Maybe I can't travel as much as I'd like, or buy the equipment I'd like, or even think of saving up to open a cafe someday, because I can't save. I'd still rather be here than at the last job, though the work was similar. Do I get excited about the Amitava Ghosh launch? Yes. Do I get livid about said obnoxious author? Yes. But is this my Passion??

The thing is, it's not simply about find your passion and life will be cookies and margaritas. First, what is the passion? Second, what if you never find one? Third, what if you find it but you suck at it? Fourth, what if its one of those things where its practically impossible to keep your head above water, like wildlife photography? Fifth, what if choosing the passion means giving up something else that's important, like having kids? Its never as simple as 'finding your passion'.

The New Normal

Chatting the The Bride the other day (of course), I found that we were bemoaning the loss of a certain kind of guy, what we'd call normal, but somehow seems to have become rather rare and, as it were, abnormal.

I was telling her how annoying it is that people in general and men in particular have become so discourteous*. I don't mean that one must live by Emily Post, but it is immensely irritating how no one can be bothered to respond to things anymore. Or tell you that they're running late. Or bother to dress well - by which I don't mean suits: merely taking the effort to dress a little spiffy, shoes, a shirt, not cargoes...

Essentially, what with all this trying to be proactive about life and love and meeting new people, I've been talking to several guys my age - mostly online of course. Now, granted that talking online has it's own set of rules rather removed from those around meeting in person. However, when eventually setting up said meeting in person, why must people be discourteous? I'm comparing chiefly the behavior of two guys. Let's call them Normal and New Normal.

NN and I were talking a LOT online and he was always extremely busy, but would make time to talk. Once we broached the subject of meeting in person, he got even flakier with contact, so much so that the day of said meeting came without my hearing from him. He then breathlessly told me how ill and busy he'd been without mentioning our scheduled meeting, and when I brought it up told me we must catch up soon. What a terrible turn of phrase, calculated to piss me off, since it's one of those meaningless things people say in this day and age.

I promptly ignored him for a few days, and that Sunday he called me and invited me to a gig he had, which I accepted with many caveats, because I had to go dancing before. I finally did go there and meet him, and he was rather different from expected and visibly nervous. The nervousness was cute so I thought heh it's fine, let's let the rudeness go. After more silence he reappeared abruptly and we talked a bit and I said hey do you want to hang out again. He said yes, lets get a drink tonight, I'll be done at 9, so I'll call you and if we're both up for it lets go. Of course I haven't heard from him since.

Regular readers will know I have very little patience with the game, and I do honestly think that the initial premise of He's Just Not That Into You is very true. If a guy likes a girl, he goes for it. This I have seen with all my friends, both male and female, barring possibly BBot. So when, at the beginning, he was making time, he was into me, but now he's not, so he's not. Regardless, the part I object to most of all is the rudeness of not responding to people. Would it kill you to send a text/email saying hey sorry it's late I can't make it? Hey, sorry, I'm sick, can we take a rain check? Hey, I'm madly busy so I'm going to go off the radar for a few weeks. It really wouldn't. So then why be lame and not do it?

N, on the other hand, is much older than NN, and extremely courteous. Our rendezvous also had to be postponed, and the minute he found out I got an email saying I'm very sorry, this is when it will likely be, I will let you know as soon as I can confirm. And the thing is, I can believe him. Long before we were due to meet, he picked a date, and then repeated in another email. He worried about the time we set and told me to pick a place close to me so I wouldn't have trouble getting home, adding that he had a car and could drive me, but wouldn't want me to be uncomfortable since I didn't know him.

I'm not demanding chivalry or claiming women need looking after, but it is simply the courtesy inherent in thinking about the complications something could cause another person that I appreciate. Being on time, for example, or letting people know as soon as you know that you're going to be late, is another example. It means that you're thinking, okay, this is going to inconvenience the other person so let me tell them quickly so they can be inconvenienced the least. If I'm going to take forty minutes, I should say forty minutes, not ten. The number of times I've been left standing on the side of the road because someone refused to tell me accurately how long they would take!

*Oh sweet jesus I'm eighty-five aren't I?

The P word

Heavy evangelism alert!

In terms of activism, it's not always possible to do something to help a cause. Take poverty. Not everyone can join an NGO, right? As the Bride said to me, we can support from the outside. But it's drops in the ocean.

Well I think we can do more. We can, for example, all not waste food. Give leftovers to our maids. Pay the auto driver the extra 10 bucks. Not bargain with the subziwala. Once a month, not eat out and give 1000 bucks to an orphanage to feed kids. Or to someone we know will use it well. Because if we sit down and we look at the sheer enormity of this problem, we will have to collapse in terror. No, we cannot eradicate poverty. It is not a disease. It is not finite, just like wealth is not finite.

On the one hand if you think of the entire endemic problem its a terrifying and impossible task; but if you look at one kid getting a meal tonight or a sweater to survive the winter and live another day, it's not so difficult.

Do some charity, and think of all the lives thst are better for it. If you are overwhelmed by the horror of poverty, think about how much worse it would be if it were not for everyone doing their tiny bit. 100,000 drops is a lot. even 1000 drops is almost a glass of water.

It is not possible to eradicate poverty. The way the world functions, the way life is, there will be rich, there will be poor, there will be people saying that the poor deserve to be poor because they always want to fight and drink. There will be studies telling you that children raised in alcoholic households till the age of five can never become functional members of society. I do not think that we have any hope of change unless we return to barter, lose electronics and grow a few more planets. But we can alleviate poverty. We can make some lives better. Step by step. If we all try, then there will be so many less undernourished children in India. Think of the difference it could make.

Who are we to say that without policy change improving the life of one kid is not worth it?

Social Scam

I get it. Social networking is an amazing thing. It really gives you this feeling of being all plugged into the world and other people, and you find all sorts of interesting things to read about, talk about, think about.

It also brings home the utter imbecility of people sometimes. Tell me, how many lives have you changed or dollars have you raised for a cause by posting a random word that talks about the colour of your bra or your relationship status? Putting a badge on your profile picture might show support for the Indian cricket team (yay we won!) but it won't matter a whit to corrupt politicians. Go ahead and use facebook to sign petitions supporting Anna Hazare's fast unto death.* Let's just see how much difference it actually makes.

This is what drives me nuts. I will guarantee that fifty percent of the people who are signing petitions on facebook and making their status messages reflect this thing aren't even registered to vote, regularly pay off cops for traffic fines, rarely every stand in line and deal with the government to get stuff done, or even know the laws of the country enough to know when they should or should not stand up to a shady customs officer.

Bottom line: It is against the law to bribe a cop instead of pay your fine. So if you can break the law, why cant A S Raja?

Seriously people, sitting around and complaining will do nothing. We can't just expect someone to wave a magic wand and change everything from the top. We are all people who say we know other things and better systems. But we are unwilling to take the responsibility to do anything about it. No, we want to get the jobs and make the money and then bitch at the government. If all of you care so much about corruption, go to law school, join the IAS, do something for the reform of the judiciary and the administration.

I am not saying that it is a good thing. I am not saying it is ok that the system is so fucked up. But we cannot lie here under the blankie and say that it's not our problem to fix it. Not while we're whining about how it is a problem in the first place! How is it going to work for someone to fast to have a law passed that cannot be enforced?

Sit down and do the math. (I know I should, but I'm too lazy. Volunteers?) We are talking about 1.2 billion people. Divide that by resources and amenities, and see what people get. Find out how many people pay  and how much it comes out to. See how much money there eventually is per capita. I will bet you it's less than any of those wonderful place where all these 'work.'

If you really want to fight corruption in India, take some simple steps. Find out what the law is. Find out what the fines are. Ask for receipts, copies, acknowledgments, names. Make a noise. You'll be surprised what a difference it makes.

Edit: lovely article by Nitin Pai.
Edit: And another one by someone else.


*Another post, another post...

I've noticed, over the past few months, that I'm just getting bitchier. It's really not cool. I've always been sassy, and happy about it; you know, one of those people who tease other people and give smartass responses to things. But somewhere along the way I've become just plain mean. It' like i crossed over from protecting myself by not caring what other people say, to not caring what I say about to other people!

I was trying to figure out why, or where it comes from. BBot says it started in July, and Dragon agrees. The current theory is that my stress level ramped up insanely because I didn't get my scholarship, and a lot was riding on it for me. I was also hating living at home again, feeling like I lost my independence, and that my life was, again, heading nowhere fast.

Granted, these are all excellent reasons to be stressed and upset, and I deeply appreciate all the people who put up with me all this time, but, first, even if it were okay to do that, the stress is gone now, so wtf; and, second, it is not okay to do that!

It's a very strange phenomenon of human nature that we all tend to behave the worst with the people we love the most. Granted, the logic of them understanding best does hold true, but sometimes I think that very acceptance is a very good reason to refrain from treating people we love like punching bags. It's a fine line between venting and taking someone for granted. Often the recipients of the nastiness know what it is and refrain from mentioning it, but then slowly the mean person stops noticing when they're doing it.

Anyway, since I had to go and wash a ridiculous number of dishes right now, my train of thought has left me far behind, so I shall leave it here. Thoughts?

Holi weekend

This weekend I went to the Sultanpur Bird Sanctuary, outside Gurgaon. It was such a beautiful place I wish I had discovered it before winter died! I acquired 561 photos, a tan and two new friends. Not bad, eh?

What struck me a lot is that we saw so many trees shedding their leaves - it was like the fall colours, just no red or orange, only yellow. At one point we could see a whole copse, and it was patches of yellow and green, much like upstate New York. This morning, on the way to work, I saw that again - the trees carpeting the ground with yellow leaves. Seeing as how yesterday was Holi (India's worst festival, especially in the north), which signals the beginning of summer (late signal this year my friends!), I was wondering if, since our deciduous trees need to shed leaves in the summer to survive, aestivate if you will, if this was out Fall. (Sorry, long sentence.)

Which made me wonder if this is why Holi is the festival of colour: cos with the advent of summer the trees change colour. All the legends explain various things, often unrelated to what one actually DOES on Holi, but none seem to talk about the colour thing. So I went to our dear ol friend wikipedia (cos one useless person is holing my Devdutt PAtnaik hostage), and found a story of a Bengali festival of celebrating Krishna and love and covering idols and devotees with Abir, or red coloured powder.

This whole where does Holi come from thing is very interesting. Everyone has a different story. The Hindustan Times Brunch weekend magazine had three; one of which was about an ogress who, like many baddies in India mythology, prayed to the god who gave her invincibility as a boon. She then proceeded to terrorize the people of the local village.* However, she was immune to verbal abuse apparently, so one day the village boys got drunk and started screaming abuse at her and ran her out of town with drums. Apparently this is why boys are supposed to get drunk and rowdy on Holi. The most believable theory if you ask me.

Then there's the one about Kamadeva, who is supposed to awaken Shiva from penance to impregnate Parvati so she can give birth to Kartikeya who can kill some asura. (Yes, really. Let's not go there shall we?). Course Shiva is all pissed off because he'd rather meditate in ashes than you know winkawonka his gorgeous wife, so he open his third eye (what about that symbolism? another post eh), and burns Kamadeva to death. Then Parvati is all pleeeease resuscitate him and so he does, as a spirit, which makes love all permeable and so he then "consummates" with Parvati and the world is saved. Isn't it amazing how the survival of the universe depends on one man's orgasm? God I'm going to get trolls for this post... Anyway, I simply cannot see how this is related in any way to Holi as it is celebrated - the bonfires, the colours, the getting stoned.

The third one is Holika, sister of Hiranyakashap, who, of course, prayed to the gods and was granted the boon of no one being able to kill him, and so he turns into psychotic tyrant and demands to be worshipped as god. His son, however, is all no, I'm sticking with Vishnu. Several attempts to kill him fail, so finally he's stuck in a bonfire. Enter Holika. Now the way I've heard it told is that she was overwhelmed by Prahalada, the son, and wants to save him, so she tells her brother that she will go into the fire and hold him down, because she, also having prayed to the gods, ahem, had the boon of not burning in fire. Then, once inside the fire, she prays to Visnhu and transfers the boon to Prahalda, and then died. Thus the fire. Yesterday I found out that there are many versions, most of which make her evil chickie! She has a shawl that keeps her safe from burning but Vishnu becomes a wind and blows it onto Prahalada, saving him. She didn't know the fine print said the power could only protect her if she was alone. She didn't read the fine print that said it would protect her only if she didn't harm someone, etc.

Right, I don't think I have a point anymore, except maybe I don't like Holi and none of the legends explain why it is so annoying? Though why a legend should make me okay with it I don't know!

Kiddies in public

I love me the kiddies. People who know the Person Behind the Kitteh know that I have longed for years to have children, and that my brain short circuits around my niece and nephew. I love all kiddies, needing no genetic bond to adore and worship them. But mother of god why are they so badly brought up these days?

This article got me off my butt to post.

I have to say, I agree with the man. For you lazy people, it's about a restaurant that says leave if your kids misbehave. Notice it doesn't ban kids; it doesn't say no kids on planes or modes of transport; it just says if you don't teach your child to behave in public then keep it at home. I heartily agree.

When I was growing up, if I ever brushed against a grownup in the pool, I'd splutter and beg forgiveness for interrupting their swim. When I went on trips, I was never ever allowed to put my shoes on the berth or scream IWANTIWANTIWANT to my parents. If we went to a movie and I got scared or upset, one parent would swiftly extricate me from the cinema and we wouldn't go back inside. It was a high honour to go out to eat and my french fries would disappear if I behaved badly. Oh I did throw tantrums, but in the car on the way home.

Which is why, today, when a kid pours water on my head on the train, or has a screaming tantrum in a restaurant because he wants dessert NOW, and howls through a movie, I want to SMACK the parents and be like, yo! I get it! It sucks BALLS that you can't go out and have a nice fun life for now, and you totally DO need to get out. It terrible that you have no kindly friends and or relative who will/can babysit. But you knew all this, and you had the baby. And you know, good for you. And you brought the kid out, awesome. I love kids. But dude, if your kid doesn't recognize the You're in trouble voice, then you should take him/her home for some training. Really. Cos if you can't/won't do it, I'm gonna have to.

Pisspot

Where I did my MA, there's a reason I used to call it the pisspot. A miniscule institute perched on the edge of the university, with a total of maybe 200 students in its MA, MPhil and PhD programs. People crammed three to a room in the hostels, teachers who did whatever they wanted and called it a course, without actually you know planning it or having any external evaluation of it, or looking at how to make a holistic program out of the business.

I remember in my first month, we had a strike! how exciting it was. We all lined up with posters in front of the admin building, we shouted slogans and giggled a lot and gasp ditched class. There wasn't room in the hostels, food in the mess or electricity.

Seven years later I go back. It now offers undergraduate courses and has been converted into a university proper. A central university with funding and everything. Now there are over 1000 students crammed into that same campus. The hostels have been "rebuilt" and "expanded," but people are now living three to a room. The lines are an hour long and there's no food at the end of the line. The students had a strike, almost a regular event now, and the acting vice chancellor refused to meet them. Well I hear he tried to wriggle out of a meeting he had agreed to. So they gheraoed him. And the professors in their indignant fury had a meeting. Shall we expel them? This disrespect for the dignity of their professors is unacceptable.

To you I say sir, or madam, what about the dignity of the student? What happened to the dignity of the human being? According to Article 25 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights:

Everyone has the right to a standard of living adequate for the health and well-being of himself and of his family, including food, clothing, housing and medical care and necessary social services...

 Is your dignity as a professor more important than your responsibility, as a professor and a part of civil society, to uphold the UDHR? Is your dignity as a professor more important than your duty as a professor to wish to impart and nurture knowledge, to which end your students should have managed to get a good night's sleep, take a shower, and put some food in their tummies before they get to class?

It makes me sick.

So much is so wrong with the way we look at education in this country (and the rest of the world, but right now my life is involved very deeply in this country and education), and that spills over into everything else. I'm not even touching the subject of school education. That's a whole parallel universe of worms.

Literacy is defined as being able to read and write your own name. Then guess what, I'm literate in every language that uses the Roman script.

Qualifying to teach a language at the university level means you can spout a lot of facts about the literature written in that language. You don't have to know the meaning of the word "predicate" but you can pass the NET exam and teach English in a university. Because, you know, being able to write a critical essay on Chaucer is immensely important to teaching modern English for daily usage to non speakers.

The point of going to college is to get the degree that is currently in fashion, not to actually learn to think. Because B.Tech or MBA on your CV will get you that BPO job where you work nights and make money.

Learning a language is a waste of time - putting one in the syllabus at your institute is merely a nod in the direction of the "trends" in favour of communication and international relations. So you can't be expected to actually pay for it. And the more people you can cram into a class the better, surely a student doesn't need more than three minutes of teach attention in a week! Also, why on earth would you need to know what a demonstrative pronoun is? It's not like you need to know the difference between subtraction and division to get an equation right.

Nobody cares. There are so many of us. Everyone wants an education. Everyone kills themselves saving up so their kids can go to engineering college. Those kids come out and they can't engineer anything to save their lives. But hey, they have the stamp. And they are the perfect little drones to perform all the pointless repetitive tasks that the outsourcing industry needs to get done. Should one of them wake up and rebel, out it goes, there's a hundred more dying to take its spot. That's exactly how we look at higher education. Never mind there's a hundred more where that one came from.

I want to scream at them. STOP IT. DON'T pin your life to this. Don't do it. Do not rush headlong into that furrow and dig yourself into it so deep you die there.

I, who am a vociferous and venom-spitting critic of "cultural studies;" I who woke up one morning in the middle of my MA litt and said FUCK woman, could you BE doing something more worthless; I sit here today and I think, well, it may be self serving and annoying; it may be a bubble, and it may lead to nothing much, but at least the humanities teach you to think. The humanities are the only discipline in India where you can look at your professor in your first year and say, no, I disagree, and be fairly confident you're not going to be failed. And they are the only place where you have a hope of being taught to life you head up, look around and go hmmm lemme try going the way the teacher said not to. (I'm talking about first year Bachelor's degree here.)

Ok I don't know where I was going with this anymore. Heh. I got distracted by an I-used-to-be-fat article, and of course three more posts mushroomed in my head. Here's hoping they see the light of day.

L is for the Way you Look at Me

Ah supersize me. I have realised I need a pretty girl to attract men who will then be exposed to stunning by my stunning personality.

Written a long long time ago, back in 2006 I think, I never finished this post. But I still think it's true. BBot, before you freak out, I'm not on the lookout =)

But. I've noticed that, whether male or female, if one is not conventionally attractive, it helps to have a hot friend who attracts tons of attention and then you can get the leftovers. Only, it doesn't work for girls. By which I mean that if I end up in a conversation with a non-hot boy whose hot friend got my attention, then I'm quite likely to forget the hot friend if we connect. Never seen it happen that way to a guy.

Could it be that air travel in the US got a titch better?

Pardon any racism I seem to emanate, it's not intentional.

Boarding my flight to Duffai, I noticed that somehow security chec doesn't suck so much anymore. Maybe it's cos we've gotten SO good at the stack belongings, pop out computer, remove belt and shoes, display liquids and shuffle in an insanely slow line. Maybe cos the TSA is nicer. No, wait, hear me out.

The TSA has changed so much! From being formidable and downright hostile white people we have come to the point where Sergio, the nice latino man who checked our passports today, and knows how to say hi, how are you in many languages, who chatted blithely with me, the Indian family in front of me, and smiled at every single person who passed him. He even told me to take care and have a good flight – and sounded like he meant it! It's funny to see the very large proportion of TSA employees who are now black, hispanic, or somehow people of colour – and by extension generally nicer, younger and far friendlier than in the past.

Yes abandonment has happened

Or, as we'd say in my family, the blog has been ABONDENED.* But The Bride has shaken me out my stupor to put up this list.

First off, in terms of the larger aspects of stereotyping and questioning it, and speaking for a gender etc goes, The Bride and Broom have said it all for me, and I' too lazy to rearticulate what has already been done so well, so go read my disclaimers on their blogs before you ruffle any feathers.

My manly traits:

1. Loud slapping laugh and filthy disgusting mind. Always making dirty jokes and sniggering at double entendres.
2. I burp, I fart: I have bodily processes and I'm proud of it.
3. Always carry my own stuff - luggage, shopping, whatever.
4. Open doors for girls; put my arm along the back of the seat; drop them at their doors when it's late; generally look out for them.
5. I can drink. A lot. I have yet to meet the man who can out drink me. 
6. *If* I carry a child and give birth to it, I want it to have my surname - much along the lines of The Bride. But, since I plan to adopt it shouldn't be an issue.
7. I swear like a truck driver. A Haryanvi truck driver. Though often enough it's in Spanish.
8. I'm very loud and er physically expressive. I will smack and punch and shove etc.
9. I hate shopping. This might have something to do with how difficult it is to find clothes that work for me, but even in Target and Old Navy, I like to come in with a purpose, and get out in 30 minutes or less.

My womanly traits:

1. I LOVELOVELOVE to cook. Yeah I know, whoda thought it what with the food blog and all.
2. I LOVELOVELOVE to keep house. Set it up, decorate, tidy, clean, grocery shop, etc.
3. I LOVE kids. And mostly, they love me. As my father puts it, MinCat holds a strange fascination for those who are below the height of a dining table.
4. I love romcoms. Seriously, if it's not Bollywood, animated, a romcom or in Spanish, I won't watch it.
5. I'm very touchy-feely. This is extension of 8 of course, only in this direction it's girly. Hey don't ask me, I don't make the rules!
6. Porn bores me. Really. It's not gross, or anything more than yawn inducing.
7. I have always wanted to marry and have kids and run a house. I don't think I am incomplete without it, any more or less than someone who wants to be an astronaut but isn't is incomplete. I have considered running a guest house or bed and breakfast.
8. I'm terribly social. I get along with everyone and have lovely pointless Stepford conversations.
9. I'm always mothering people and worrying about them and trying to fix their lives.
10. I love dressing up. It's just hard to find the right clothes sometimes. hee.

*This is reference to all the dilapidated railway buildings one sees, with the word abandoned stencilled on them. except it was often abondoned. or abondened.