My life has been extraordinarily uneventful. Which has been very nice and relaxing. The obvious consequence is that I have virtually nothing to write about. Que sera.
Last week I decided to go to Boston for a few days. I stupidly did not check the weather forecast - apparently Boston decided to do a "Let's pretend it's winter again!" weekend. All I had was my denim jacket. And sandals. I could hardly get out a sentence since I was shivering so much.
Last Friday I had some time to kill before meeting some friends. I had no desire to walk around outside, so I went into a shoe store. I needed to buy a pair of flip flops for an upcoming trip, and began browsing. However, this store sold really expensive fancy schmany European shoes - High end Reef flip-flops for $50, and something called Rainbow flip flops for $70.
Now, I know sometimes you have to pay for quality. But being a desi, paying more than $1 for a pair of Bata chappals seems sacriligeous. Anyway, I probably sat around and tried on five or six pairs of flip flops. I didn't have to ask for the size as the shoes were all hanging on freestanding racks.
While at the store, I spoke to my mom on the phone for a few minutes. All in all, I must have been there for a good half an hour. I headed toward the door to leave, but still felt cold. So I lingered by the entrance and looked at some other shoes.
And that's when I realized that four rather large and intimidating men (I think the store owners and employees are all Turkish) - were looking at me very intently. At first I was a bit nervous, and then it hit me:
They thought I was a shoplifter. I had a big shoulder bag with me, I had been browsing and trying on expensive sandals that were easy to swipe, and a spent a good amount of time on the phone. I checked the door: no security walls. They had to monitor shoplifters the old school way - by staring them down and then chasing them down the street.
I knew I had to get out of there. I wondered what would happen - would they stop me and ask to check my bag? Would they follow me? Who knew. And for some reason, I was feeling a little cheeky. So right before I left the store, I turned around and looked the 4 thugs right in the eye and then strutted out of there.
And that was the most exciting thing that happened to me in the last two weeks. Hmm ... I should rent a video or something.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Thursday, April 13, 2006
the kiddie table
I have wowed myself with my own laziness. Since returning from vacation, where I happened to be much busier and more physically active than normal, I have been a big old couch potato. Furthermore, I was having insomnia / sleeping issues toward the end of my trip. My flight back to NY was a red-eye, and I couldn't sleep for a minute. Thus, when I got back home I turned nocturnal.
I had all these grand plans ... like doing laundry and you know, getting out of the house for a few minutes. But I just zoned out. I allowed myself three days of such behavior - and yesterday was the third. No more vegatative indolence. Today I shall do something! Does blogging count as something?
As mentioned earlier, Australia was fantastic. We did and saw so much that I was actually overwhelmed with the idea of summarizing it in a single piece of writing. I also took 445 photos. Deciding which ones are best to display has proven to be daunting. Also, I've been pre-occupied. Ellen was on. But it's on my to-do list. One of these days I will write a vacation recount.
Being home has quite the range of benefits and disadvantages. Benefits = acting like a carefree six year old. Disadvantages = being treated like a six year old.
My parents subscribe to the "out of sight, out of mind" mode of parenting. That is to say, when I'm around, they suddenly worry about my every move and dictate my schedule. Mind you that I am 26 and spent 3 weeks traveling all over the place, over which time they spoke to me maybe twice. But when I'm home, it's a whole different ballgame.
Yesterday, my mom called and left me the following message (I was napping. Since I was so tired from, uh, sleeping). Anyway, she said:
"Hi Sophia. This is Mom. Listen, Dad says we have to go to dinner at [said restaurant] tonight. So, I hope you don't have other plans."
It turned out to be a business dinner - my dad and a group of his colleagues. And their kids.
(Cue ominous music...)
And this is when I realized that my life is borderline pathetic. I was placed at the far end of the table with the kids. And when I say kids, I mean kids. The oldest was an 18 year old girl. The other kids were 3 boys; one 10 year old and two 8 year olds.
My friends and I have discussed this before. Particularly at Indian functions, if you are unmarried - no matter what age, you will be placed at the kids table. For goodness sake, I'm going to be a doctor and this was a meeting of doctors, but since I am sans-life-partner, my companionship for the evening was mutually painful. (Ewww! You're a girl!!).
The kids were actually very sweet and I established my "coolness" with them by ordering them whatever they wanted: Lobster for the 10 year old, who freaked out when they brought in a full lobster, head and all. Extra ice cream for the two 8 year olds, who lamented that the waiter brought them vanilla instead of chocolate. I fixed this potential World War III by asking for chocolate sauce.
One of the 8 year olds pulled a bit on my heartstrings though. I'll call him Bobby. Not that because that's his name, but because I am always amused that Indians nickname their kids Bobby, Billy, Bunty or Freddy. It's like, hey, my kids name is Rajeshlal but I'll call him Bob.
I liked Bobby, most probably because he was a big geek and reminded me of my own geeky self at that age. He even attends third grade at an elementary school that is part of the school district I myself attended. For the few Herricks readers out there, you might appreciate this:
Sophia: So, what elementary school do you go to?
Bobby: Uh, Denton Avenue.
Sophia: Oh, I went to Center Street!
Bobby: Center Streek sucks.
Nice to know that things have not changed in TWENTY years.
Anyway, Bobby was one of these kids who ends every phrase with an inflection - so that it sounds like every thing he says is a question. His head was full of random information that he was incredibly eager to share. It went something like this:
"So? You know? Sand dust? How it forms? Sand dust in the particles? Uhuh? It mixes with air particles in the atmosphere? And they mix? And dust forms? When you rub the sand? And then? You breathe it in? And it goes in your nose? And your nose sends a message to your sneeze center in your brain? And then your sneezing muscles contract? And you sneeze? Did you know? A sneeze goes at 100 mph?"
So cute. But a bit taxing. And don't doubt that every 15 seconds I thought "Holy crap, I am 26 years old. I be needing a husband."
My mom was seated next to me (the fault line between the Adult and Kiddie sides of the table). She noticed my amusement, and then shared the funniest story with me. A few months ago they had been at some dinner party, and the same group of kids were there. Apparently Bobby and the other kids were talking and sharing their curiousity about the world. Bobby started to say: "Hey, do you guys know what intercourse is? I've read it but nobody tells me. What's intercourse?"
Man, I wish I could've been there. Because I have a hunch that I would've been the only person at the kiddie table who knew that answer.
I had all these grand plans ... like doing laundry and you know, getting out of the house for a few minutes. But I just zoned out. I allowed myself three days of such behavior - and yesterday was the third. No more vegatative indolence. Today I shall do something! Does blogging count as something?
As mentioned earlier, Australia was fantastic. We did and saw so much that I was actually overwhelmed with the idea of summarizing it in a single piece of writing. I also took 445 photos. Deciding which ones are best to display has proven to be daunting. Also, I've been pre-occupied. Ellen was on. But it's on my to-do list. One of these days I will write a vacation recount.
Being home has quite the range of benefits and disadvantages. Benefits = acting like a carefree six year old. Disadvantages = being treated like a six year old.
My parents subscribe to the "out of sight, out of mind" mode of parenting. That is to say, when I'm around, they suddenly worry about my every move and dictate my schedule. Mind you that I am 26 and spent 3 weeks traveling all over the place, over which time they spoke to me maybe twice. But when I'm home, it's a whole different ballgame.
Yesterday, my mom called and left me the following message (I was napping. Since I was so tired from, uh, sleeping). Anyway, she said:
"Hi Sophia. This is Mom. Listen, Dad says we have to go to dinner at [said restaurant] tonight. So, I hope you don't have other plans."
It turned out to be a business dinner - my dad and a group of his colleagues. And their kids.
(Cue ominous music...)
And this is when I realized that my life is borderline pathetic. I was placed at the far end of the table with the kids. And when I say kids, I mean kids. The oldest was an 18 year old girl. The other kids were 3 boys; one 10 year old and two 8 year olds.
My friends and I have discussed this before. Particularly at Indian functions, if you are unmarried - no matter what age, you will be placed at the kids table. For goodness sake, I'm going to be a doctor and this was a meeting of doctors, but since I am sans-life-partner, my companionship for the evening was mutually painful. (Ewww! You're a girl!!).
The kids were actually very sweet and I established my "coolness" with them by ordering them whatever they wanted: Lobster for the 10 year old, who freaked out when they brought in a full lobster, head and all. Extra ice cream for the two 8 year olds, who lamented that the waiter brought them vanilla instead of chocolate. I fixed this potential World War III by asking for chocolate sauce.
One of the 8 year olds pulled a bit on my heartstrings though. I'll call him Bobby. Not that because that's his name, but because I am always amused that Indians nickname their kids Bobby, Billy, Bunty or Freddy. It's like, hey, my kids name is Rajeshlal but I'll call him Bob.
I liked Bobby, most probably because he was a big geek and reminded me of my own geeky self at that age. He even attends third grade at an elementary school that is part of the school district I myself attended. For the few Herricks readers out there, you might appreciate this:
Sophia: So, what elementary school do you go to?
Bobby: Uh, Denton Avenue.
Sophia: Oh, I went to Center Street!
Bobby: Center Streek sucks.
Nice to know that things have not changed in TWENTY years.
Anyway, Bobby was one of these kids who ends every phrase with an inflection - so that it sounds like every thing he says is a question. His head was full of random information that he was incredibly eager to share. It went something like this:
"So? You know? Sand dust? How it forms? Sand dust in the particles? Uhuh? It mixes with air particles in the atmosphere? And they mix? And dust forms? When you rub the sand? And then? You breathe it in? And it goes in your nose? And your nose sends a message to your sneeze center in your brain? And then your sneezing muscles contract? And you sneeze? Did you know? A sneeze goes at 100 mph?"
So cute. But a bit taxing. And don't doubt that every 15 seconds I thought "Holy crap, I am 26 years old. I be needing a husband."
My mom was seated next to me (the fault line between the Adult and Kiddie sides of the table). She noticed my amusement, and then shared the funniest story with me. A few months ago they had been at some dinner party, and the same group of kids were there. Apparently Bobby and the other kids were talking and sharing their curiousity about the world. Bobby started to say: "Hey, do you guys know what intercourse is? I've read it but nobody tells me. What's intercourse?"
Man, I wish I could've been there. Because I have a hunch that I would've been the only person at the kiddie table who knew that answer.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
there's always something
G'day Mates!
Am posting from lovely Sydney, Australia -- now officially my favorite place in the world. And not just because they have lots of KFCs here, which, as luck would have it, they do.
Tonight is our last night here. I'm really sad. This has been one incredible adventure - I will of course post details once I am settled back at home.
But I do always want to brighten your days whenever possible, so I thought I would share the following e-mail I received from my Dad this morning. I had written him earlier this week to let him know that I had been accepted for the joint degree program I applied for. I am going to do an MBA along with my MD ... basically so that I can remain in school forever.
His response has had me chuckling all day:
Hi Baby,
You never cease to amaze us with your achievements. We are extremely proud of you. Now we dont have to worry about anything (not really you know, till you get finally hooked to some nice guy!!!) Love you and can't wait to see you back home.
Dad and Mom.
How cute is that?? I know I say this incessantly ... but I really do have the most amazing parents in the world.
Am posting from lovely Sydney, Australia -- now officially my favorite place in the world. And not just because they have lots of KFCs here, which, as luck would have it, they do.
Tonight is our last night here. I'm really sad. This has been one incredible adventure - I will of course post details once I am settled back at home.
But I do always want to brighten your days whenever possible, so I thought I would share the following e-mail I received from my Dad this morning. I had written him earlier this week to let him know that I had been accepted for the joint degree program I applied for. I am going to do an MBA along with my MD ... basically so that I can remain in school forever.
His response has had me chuckling all day:
Hi Baby,
You never cease to amaze us with your achievements. We are extremely proud of you. Now we dont have to worry about anything (not really you know, till you get finally hooked to some nice guy!!!) Love you and can't wait to see you back home.
Dad and Mom.
How cute is that?? I know I say this incessantly ... but I really do have the most amazing parents in the world.
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