that this is it.
As good as it gets.
And not in a quirky, heartwarming Jack Nicholson movie kind of way.
Sometimes I'm so scared I get cold, so cold I shiver. And my ears start ringing, and I feel like the universe is getting bigger. Alarmingly bigger. I have to focus very hard on unclenching my teeth and pushing my lungs past the clasps cutting into them.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Sunday, February 15, 2009
The world's oldest lesson in history...
OOF told me, most graciously, last night at dinner, that I could fall in love with the current crush.
Eh??? you say? My reaction exactly.
Apparently I'm not heading towards neurotic depression this time, so it's ok. Nevermind that no male in history has caused me more neurotic depression than OOF himself, I can see his point, cos things being the way they are he's going to have to pat my back and hand me tissues through most of it.
I suppose what he meant to say was that this time I'm pretty much in control. Well, that's how I choose to interpret it anyway!
I wonder why though. Could it be that of all the legions of men I have had crushes on, and the few I have been in love with, this is the first time I am convinced, for no logical reason whatsoever, that he likes me too? Could it be that I've finally hit upon a lovely delusional defence mechanism to avoid dealing with rejection, i.e. "knowing" he likes me, but waiting for him to make a move? Could it be that I've learnt, through trial and much error, how to hold back and not commit too much emotion to someone until I am given good reason? Or could it be that I've found that people come and go, lust comes and goes, and love comes and goes; there's not much you can do about any of it except keep swimming?
The funny thing though, is that I think of it as a lesson to be learned; only, if I look closely, it's a different story every time. So really, it's more like the world's newest lesson in history...
Eh??? you say? My reaction exactly.
Apparently I'm not heading towards neurotic depression this time, so it's ok. Nevermind that no male in history has caused me more neurotic depression than OOF himself, I can see his point, cos things being the way they are he's going to have to pat my back and hand me tissues through most of it.
I suppose what he meant to say was that this time I'm pretty much in control. Well, that's how I choose to interpret it anyway!
I wonder why though. Could it be that of all the legions of men I have had crushes on, and the few I have been in love with, this is the first time I am convinced, for no logical reason whatsoever, that he likes me too? Could it be that I've finally hit upon a lovely delusional defence mechanism to avoid dealing with rejection, i.e. "knowing" he likes me, but waiting for him to make a move? Could it be that I've learnt, through trial and much error, how to hold back and not commit too much emotion to someone until I am given good reason? Or could it be that I've found that people come and go, lust comes and goes, and love comes and goes; there's not much you can do about any of it except keep swimming?
The funny thing though, is that I think of it as a lesson to be learned; only, if I look closely, it's a different story every time. So really, it's more like the world's newest lesson in history...
Thursday, February 05, 2009
Of people and types
I have always averred, to Appa's amusement, that I am a morning person.
Now his laughter is provoked by two things. Firstly, he believes that after 5am, it is afternoon. Therefore, by waking up by 8am most days, I am not waking up in the morning. Secondly, he finds it incredibly entertaining that we, as a generation, like to use phrases such as I am "blank" person.
But I digress.
The reason I aver the above (I'm just tripping on the alliteration today ain't I?) is because whenever I wake up, I'm happy. It doesn't matter what time of day, when I open my eyes, I smile. It might not be joy and ecstasy, but it's definitely contentment. And it lasts past the tea-making-and-drinking-ritual, for about two hours, after which life can begin to get me down. This is why I HATE pre-tea confrontation or sulks. It is also why I am so totally at a loss on those occasions that I wake up sad.
I just don't know what to do.
I can handle depression; I can control my more irrational fears and desires, even if I need to let em take over for a bit; I can deal with anger and I can cope with pretty much anything life throws at me.
But when I wake up, like this morning, with tears in my eyes, for no reason, all I can do is let them trickle forlornly down my face and concentrate on not letting my nose run.
Now his laughter is provoked by two things. Firstly, he believes that after 5am, it is afternoon. Therefore, by waking up by 8am most days, I am not waking up in the morning. Secondly, he finds it incredibly entertaining that we, as a generation, like to use phrases such as I am "blank" person.
But I digress.
The reason I aver the above (I'm just tripping on the alliteration today ain't I?) is because whenever I wake up, I'm happy. It doesn't matter what time of day, when I open my eyes, I smile. It might not be joy and ecstasy, but it's definitely contentment. And it lasts past the tea-making-and-drinking-ritual, for about two hours, after which life can begin to get me down. This is why I HATE pre-tea confrontation or sulks. It is also why I am so totally at a loss on those occasions that I wake up sad.
I just don't know what to do.
I can handle depression; I can control my more irrational fears and desires, even if I need to let em take over for a bit; I can deal with anger and I can cope with pretty much anything life throws at me.
But when I wake up, like this morning, with tears in my eyes, for no reason, all I can do is let them trickle forlornly down my face and concentrate on not letting my nose run.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Late-night Nonsense
You know, it feels like a helluva lot more than just 20 days since I posted.
I present to you, courtesy of the delectable Adam Levine, my head this evening.
Tap on my window knock on my door
I want to make you feel beautiful
I know I tend to get so insecure
It doesn't matter anymore
It's not always rainbows and butterflies
It's compromise that moves us along, yeah
My heart is full and my door's always open
You can come anytime you want
I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile
And she will be loved
I know I don't know you
But I want you so bad
Everyone has a secret
But can they keep it
Oh No they can't
Sunday morning rain is falling
Steal some covers share some skin
Clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable
You twist to fit the mold that I am in
But things just get so crazy living life gets hard to do
And I would gladly hit the road get up and go if I knew
That someday it would lead me back to you
The thing is, whatever my various faults (argumentative, loud, always right, tends to say painful things), I do think I am a nice person. I try to do the best I can to make people's lives easier; I find it very hard to say no or ask for favours; I don't mind adapting to other people's lives and crises; etc. But lately I'm beginning to wonder if I'm too nice.
I think I should adopt the motto: You want nice? You better fucking earn it.
The Dragon says that's a bad reaction, because I'm going to end up changing who I am, and not even the bits I don't like (low self-esteem, can't say no to potatoes or cake), for someone else. That's a bit below the belt cos it's gyaan I've been throwing at her for a while now.
But then I wonder, maybe I should put a clause on it. Kind of like baseball, three strikes and you're out. I do try. But then I tend to really like people, and when they are jerks, it hurts me, but it's worth it for the people they are and how they enrich my life. Or so I tell myself. There's a tipping point though. You let me down once, I'll let it go. You let me down twice, I'll be wary but I'll let it go if I like you. You let me down thrice, you're out.
Lately I've been trying to live by some rules.
1. Calm down. Rant all week to sympathetic person (only once to OOF or you'll have more ranting to do... :D), never mind how long it takes, but don't talk about it to concerned person till you've calmed down.
2. Make sure you articulate what upset you, and while doing that don't forget to present your understanding of the other person's side. That'll get you over it, never mind what they say or don't.
They've been working well.
I'm going to add another one, stick to the ones you know.
And remember, there are no signs.
Just Mel Gibson.
I present to you, courtesy of the delectable Adam Levine, my head this evening.
Tap on my window knock on my door
I want to make you feel beautiful
I know I tend to get so insecure
It doesn't matter anymore
It's not always rainbows and butterflies
It's compromise that moves us along, yeah
My heart is full and my door's always open
You can come anytime you want
I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile
And she will be loved
I know I don't know you
But I want you so bad
Everyone has a secret
But can they keep it
Oh No they can't
Sunday morning rain is falling
Steal some covers share some skin
Clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable
You twist to fit the mold that I am in
But things just get so crazy living life gets hard to do
And I would gladly hit the road get up and go if I knew
That someday it would lead me back to you
The thing is, whatever my various faults (argumentative, loud, always right, tends to say painful things), I do think I am a nice person. I try to do the best I can to make people's lives easier; I find it very hard to say no or ask for favours; I don't mind adapting to other people's lives and crises; etc. But lately I'm beginning to wonder if I'm too nice.
I think I should adopt the motto: You want nice? You better fucking earn it.
The Dragon says that's a bad reaction, because I'm going to end up changing who I am, and not even the bits I don't like (low self-esteem, can't say no to potatoes or cake), for someone else. That's a bit below the belt cos it's gyaan I've been throwing at her for a while now.
But then I wonder, maybe I should put a clause on it. Kind of like baseball, three strikes and you're out. I do try. But then I tend to really like people, and when they are jerks, it hurts me, but it's worth it for the people they are and how they enrich my life. Or so I tell myself. There's a tipping point though. You let me down once, I'll let it go. You let me down twice, I'll be wary but I'll let it go if I like you. You let me down thrice, you're out.
Lately I've been trying to live by some rules.
1. Calm down. Rant all week to sympathetic person (only once to OOF or you'll have more ranting to do... :D), never mind how long it takes, but don't talk about it to concerned person till you've calmed down.
2. Make sure you articulate what upset you, and while doing that don't forget to present your understanding of the other person's side. That'll get you over it, never mind what they say or don't.
They've been working well.
I'm going to add another one, stick to the ones you know.
And remember, there are no signs.
Just Mel Gibson.
Sunday, January 04, 2009
Saturday, January 03, 2009
It was a very good year
For travel:
Four countries in three months. Two actually, cos I only left India at the end of January. Going to Mexico is the best decision I took in the year and a half I lived in New York, and I'm beginning to think that coming back was the second-best one. The stopover at Hong Kong was loverly, not the least because of the opportunity to heavily rebond with The Bride, and actually meet her husband the (in?)famous V. (Different from the V here at Chez MinCat.) And let us not go into how many nights I've spent on the bloody Charminar Express in the second half of the year.
My resolution: Write it up, all the travel of 2007 and 2008. Travel in my own country now, even if *some* people are too indolent, spoilt or silly to come with me. I have been in foreign countries as a solitary woman travelling, more power to me in Mexico because I could pass for a local, why should I balk at travel in my own country, where I AM a local?
For people:
The highlight of the year was was the return of OOF. I can't stop grinning when I think about it, I have to pinch myself periodically to believe it. Notable events include living with The Roommate; meeting CFS and all his friends, especially ahem Disco Dancer (sorry sorry but could there BE a better euphemism?); walking upto Colombian Girl in the gym and letting her, her husband and all the other mad people I've met because of her chance bathroom encounters into my life; Other Colombian Girl, whom I will have to visit in Bogota one of these years; V, who has surprised and touched me by growing up so much.
I'm sorry I had to leave the Newyorkers behind, but they're still floating around in cyberspace :)
I wish I could have avoided losing two of my old and dear friends in the city, but it coudn't be helped - these things are two-way!
My resolution: Stay open, more good has come of it than harm, ridiculously more good.
The life:
There was heartbreak at leaving New York, and plenty of self-doubt. But now, sitting on the yellow couch in my little flat, with the sun shining through the red and green leaves of the badam tree, with Juanes on the iHome, writing this and planning tomorrow's parental lunch, with the events of the past weeks playing in my head I cannot but think it was a very good decision indeed.
My resolution: Keep going this way, apparently life gives me fabulous lemons! After all, with lemons you can make caipirinhas!
The career:
*snigger*
Well, I can't say I have one of those, but I think I'm making slow progress to reaching a happy state. My career is cultivating people, and I seem to be doing quite well at that! The cooking goes on in leaps and bounds, and this whole conventional career thing isn't too bad. Spanish continues apace, though I really should praactice writing a bit more.
My resolution: Keep at it, one of these days I'll find my opening.
It was a very bad year for peace of mind! But then, as Stumbling on Happiness puts it, you best remember the last bits of any experience, and the last bits of 2008 were fabulous :) So nevermind the life angst that hit so hard and so often, nevermind the frustration with jobs and boys: it was a hard year, but it wasn't a bad year.
We officially declare 2009 the year of no boy stress and no job stress!
Four countries in three months. Two actually, cos I only left India at the end of January. Going to Mexico is the best decision I took in the year and a half I lived in New York, and I'm beginning to think that coming back was the second-best one. The stopover at Hong Kong was loverly, not the least because of the opportunity to heavily rebond with The Bride, and actually meet her husband the (in?)famous V. (Different from the V here at Chez MinCat.) And let us not go into how many nights I've spent on the bloody Charminar Express in the second half of the year.
My resolution: Write it up, all the travel of 2007 and 2008. Travel in my own country now, even if *some* people are too indolent, spoilt or silly to come with me. I have been in foreign countries as a solitary woman travelling, more power to me in Mexico because I could pass for a local, why should I balk at travel in my own country, where I AM a local?
For people:
The highlight of the year was was the return of OOF. I can't stop grinning when I think about it, I have to pinch myself periodically to believe it. Notable events include living with The Roommate; meeting CFS and all his friends, especially ahem Disco Dancer (sorry sorry but could there BE a better euphemism?); walking upto Colombian Girl in the gym and letting her, her husband and all the other mad people I've met because of her chance bathroom encounters into my life; Other Colombian Girl, whom I will have to visit in Bogota one of these years; V, who has surprised and touched me by growing up so much.
I'm sorry I had to leave the Newyorkers behind, but they're still floating around in cyberspace :)
I wish I could have avoided losing two of my old and dear friends in the city, but it coudn't be helped - these things are two-way!
My resolution: Stay open, more good has come of it than harm, ridiculously more good.
The life:
There was heartbreak at leaving New York, and plenty of self-doubt. But now, sitting on the yellow couch in my little flat, with the sun shining through the red and green leaves of the badam tree, with Juanes on the iHome, writing this and planning tomorrow's parental lunch, with the events of the past weeks playing in my head I cannot but think it was a very good decision indeed.
My resolution: Keep going this way, apparently life gives me fabulous lemons! After all, with lemons you can make caipirinhas!
The career:
*snigger*
Well, I can't say I have one of those, but I think I'm making slow progress to reaching a happy state. My career is cultivating people, and I seem to be doing quite well at that! The cooking goes on in leaps and bounds, and this whole conventional career thing isn't too bad. Spanish continues apace, though I really should praactice writing a bit more.
My resolution: Keep at it, one of these days I'll find my opening.
It was a very bad year for peace of mind! But then, as Stumbling on Happiness puts it, you best remember the last bits of any experience, and the last bits of 2008 were fabulous :) So nevermind the life angst that hit so hard and so often, nevermind the frustration with jobs and boys: it was a hard year, but it wasn't a bad year.
We officially declare 2009 the year of no boy stress and no job stress!
One Drunken Night
(THAT, ladies and germs, is a teaser.)
Last weekend, at about 1am on Sunday, OOF and V were expounding on the subject of MinCat, her true inner self, and what men want from women. No, really. There was a lot of whisky.
According to V, I am all tough on the outside, but deep down I'm just waiting for a white knight to sweep me up onto his horse and ride off into the sunset. Ahem.
According to OOF, that's all very well, but two weeks later I'm going to refuse to believe that white knight and start making him jump through hoops.
Which brings us to how to hook men. Apparently, they like to be challenged. But, as any Strong Independent Woman knows, that's a crock of shit. Challenge a man by being his equal and he will either think of you as a guy or a ballbusting bitch. Ah, OOF interjects, it's not enough to be challenging, women must be playful while they do it.
Sigh.
Sometimes I want to line the whole species up and smack it upside the head with a large, blunt instrument.
Now, not to belittle your sage advice, OOF, it's probably spot on, but why oh why are we, as a generation, so idiotically obsessed with creating these structures of conformity in relationships that entangle us so much that eventually we forget what we want or like from a person and train ourselves to think in some warped stereotype: women must be so to get men's attention, and men must want women who are so to get their attention, and so on ad nauseum.
Honestly, I like having arguments as much as anyone (ok, ok more than most people), but even so, if someone challenges me all the time, as many men seem to think is mandatory too, I get very bored, very fast, and tune out. Similarly, I can play games and be hot and cold and throw tantrums to have people do things my way - but what's the point really. Imagine how exhausting it would be to keep doing that.
Because, you see, the flaw in these theories of inter-gender interaction is simply this: they assume that at some point, one can drop the charade and be oneself; the make up and push up can come off and one can return to comfy pjs on the couch. Unfortunately, we're all so well trained to expect the framework that when it is dropped we decide we must seek it out somewhere else, somewhere new. "There's no excitement anymore."
It's a bit like that Calvin strip where Hobbes comments on his attention span, or lack thereof, and he says: If it cant be distilled into 45 seconds then I don't want to know about it. If behaviour does not follow the prescribed patterns then we cannot assimilate it, or react to it.
Last weekend, at about 1am on Sunday, OOF and V were expounding on the subject of MinCat, her true inner self, and what men want from women. No, really. There was a lot of whisky.
According to V, I am all tough on the outside, but deep down I'm just waiting for a white knight to sweep me up onto his horse and ride off into the sunset. Ahem.
According to OOF, that's all very well, but two weeks later I'm going to refuse to believe that white knight and start making him jump through hoops.
Which brings us to how to hook men. Apparently, they like to be challenged. But, as any Strong Independent Woman knows, that's a crock of shit. Challenge a man by being his equal and he will either think of you as a guy or a ballbusting bitch. Ah, OOF interjects, it's not enough to be challenging, women must be playful while they do it.
Sigh.
Sometimes I want to line the whole species up and smack it upside the head with a large, blunt instrument.
Now, not to belittle your sage advice, OOF, it's probably spot on, but why oh why are we, as a generation, so idiotically obsessed with creating these structures of conformity in relationships that entangle us so much that eventually we forget what we want or like from a person and train ourselves to think in some warped stereotype: women must be so to get men's attention, and men must want women who are so to get their attention, and so on ad nauseum.
Honestly, I like having arguments as much as anyone (ok, ok more than most people), but even so, if someone challenges me all the time, as many men seem to think is mandatory too, I get very bored, very fast, and tune out. Similarly, I can play games and be hot and cold and throw tantrums to have people do things my way - but what's the point really. Imagine how exhausting it would be to keep doing that.
Because, you see, the flaw in these theories of inter-gender interaction is simply this: they assume that at some point, one can drop the charade and be oneself; the make up and push up can come off and one can return to comfy pjs on the couch. Unfortunately, we're all so well trained to expect the framework that when it is dropped we decide we must seek it out somewhere else, somewhere new. "There's no excitement anymore."
It's a bit like that Calvin strip where Hobbes comments on his attention span, or lack thereof, and he says: If it cant be distilled into 45 seconds then I don't want to know about it. If behaviour does not follow the prescribed patterns then we cannot assimilate it, or react to it.
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