the stuff of dreams

LOL

2007-11-10T16:21:00.000+01:00

So I know that there are things that are less than socially acceptable to be done alone. Like drinking or going to the movies or a restaurant or eating a gallon of ice cream on the sofa. It's a good thing that behaving in a socially acceptable manner is not always high on my list of priorities. I tend to laugh by myself, not about stuff occurring around me, but rather stuff that I think about, in my head. For instance, my mother is what the French would refer to as une technophobe. She is not very good with electronics - computers, cell phones, DVD players, basically anything. A while ago, she finally learned how to send text messages, which is no small feat for her, a woman who couldn't figure out how to get the second and third letters on a cell phone key (she knew that by pressing 2, she could type the letter A, but she didn't know how to get the B or C). All the contacts in her phone book were in a strange code that only she could decipher. Now as if that isn't hilarious enough, she didn't know how to type a space, so all of her messages were like howareyoudoing or haveanicedayiwillcallyoulater. When she finally figured that out, she moved on to trying to use abbreviated lingo in her texts. Everyone wants to be cool, you know. She started to write messages that sounded like English was not her first language, Maybe u c a nice pair at another store where r u finish class was her way of saying Maybe u will c a nice pair at another store. Where r u? U finish class? Yes, she is special. She is my mother. Now my brother wasn't so amused or patient. One day after receiving a text from her, he sent her one back that read This phone is not able to receive text messages. He told me about it and we both had a good laugh. But really, I didn't think that she would fall for it. I forgot all about it, until like a couple weeks ago, when she said she was trying to get a hold of him. I suggested sending a text message and she said No, I can't. His phone can't receive text messages. I was confused, like What are you talking about? And then I remembered and I cracked up, like You actually believed that!?!? And she was too confused. I tried to explain the story to her and she kept arguing with me, telling me that no, that she got a message and he can't receive text messages. OMG, maybe you had to be there. But yes, I laugh by myself around other people at memories that only I have. If you happen to ever see me break into laughter, just smile, or better yet, laugh with me.

the time being

2007-11-04T08:27:00.000+01:00

Daylight savings time. Woot! An extra hour, which I have decided to spend lounging in the bed with a bowl of ice cream and the computer. Last week Sunday, my phone told me that it was daylight savings time and it reset itself. So I was thinking, hmmmm okay. I called a friend to find out if it was true and she told me no, that daylight savings time was a week later. I tried to change the time on the phone, but everyday at midnight it would reset itself. After a week of that confusion, the time will finally be correct.
I have been spending too much time at work. Which I suppose in a way is a good thing. Ever notice how scrubs look a lot like prison uniforms? Coincidence? I think not. Anyway, there is a really sweet woman at my work who I sometimes talk to during lunch. After finding out that I only have 1 brother (in comparison with her 8 siblings), do not have any family living with me in Denver, and am single, I have become her new project. She is determined to find a mate for me. First it was one of her single brothers, now it is one of her co-workers. I don't know what to do. Being single is not a curse. I mean, some people like being single. Maybe I am one of them. Maybe that is just the way that God made me. Say you have this friend who was recently dumped. I mean DUMPED, like totally unexpected in a completely public place. Her feelings were crushed and she didn't know how to take it exactly, because she hadn't been dumped in years. I'm talking like more than 5 years ago, because truth is she wouldn't open herself up to situations that would enable that. BUT, she decided that it is time for a change, because change goes so well with age, you know. So she decided to take a chance, because taking chances is what life and learning are about. All of her good intentions and efforts got her nowhere. At least nowhere she wanted to be. Obviously that is a sign from the Lord that she doesn't belong in a relationship. Kenisha said, "Fine then Leela, just be single forever." Well maybe I will. Thank you very much.

my dad, my inspiration

2007-10-09T12:38:00.000+02:00

My dad gives the best gifts. Several years back, instead of receiving birthday gifts, my brother and I agreed to donate the money to New Life Charitable Trust, a non-profit organization which cares for children and elderly people without families in India. On our birthdays, our donations sponsor their meals and they say special prayers for us and send photos. It's amazing how little money is needed to feed more than 100 people by Western standards. It's so easy to become too wrapped up in one's daily life and problems and take things for granted. My dad makes sure that we recognize how truly blessed we are and reminds us of our responsibility in sharing that with others.

My dad has done other work with them as well and always makes a special trip when he is in India. I haven't been able to visit yet, since I usually spend most of my time in India with family in Kerala, but next time I go (hopefully summer of 2008) I will be sure to visit. There is a cow named Leela, which delivered a calf, which was named after my brother. So anyway, if interested, visit the website to see all of the projects they are working on and ways to help.

party time!!!

2007-10-04T14:33:00.000+02:00

I don't think that OJ should be prosecuted for his actions in Vegas. In fact, he should be able to sue the city of Vegas for renegading on their slogan that "what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."

So that was my dad's letter to the editor of the Grand Junction Free Press a week or so ago. And they published it. Anyway, the relevance of this (other than providing tangible evidence that foolishness is genetic) is that tomorrow is my birthday and I am going to Las Vegas. Now the last time I went, I had a bit of a rough time (understatement). But so what! I'm going to Vegas tomorrow and I don't give a f*ck cause it's my birthday!!!!

2007-09-24T02:17:00.000+02:00

Sometimes my friend Jameel really sucks. I keep him around though I guess since he is my oldest friend and all, but still, he can really suck at times. It's like he just isn't thinking or something. I don't even know. For instance, there is the time that I was in San Francisco and he totally abandoned me for this Polish girl. Or how he agreed to do this web design work for my brother and kept postponing it until it was obvious that he had no intention of doing it. Did I mention how when he came to Europe last year, he did NOT visit me in Paris, yet he managed to go to Paris this year after I had already returned home? Okay fine fine, to be fair, he does do a lot of nice things too...right...moving on.

I guess the best part about true friends is that they accept you as you are without expecting you to be perfect. And they forgive your mistakes. They can piss you off, you can disagree and fight and know that you won't lose that person. You know that you will remain friends through good and bad times alike. And it's through those difficult times that you truly grow together.

So Jameel, thanks for not sucking so bad this weekend.
I guess I kind of love you too.

okay Stace, maybe you are right

2007-09-23T23:41:00.000+02:00

I shouldn't give up on blogging.

I was told that I need to grow a thicker skin. I am overly sensitive. I take things way too personally. Fine, I recognize this. I know that I tend to find a way to interpret things as being a result of my own inadequacies. Habit, I suppose. A bad one. I beat myself up over things which I have no control over. This is where the theory I suck at life comes into play. It's always my fault in some form. Now when I look at things from afar and add a bit of logic, I know that this is not the reality of the situation, but those emotions can be awfully relentless. Still, recognizing the problem is half of the battle, right? Okay, that's great, but changing the behavior is the hard part, the part that seems to have me baffled. Well, what if I were to say that I am determined to overcome this flaw, no matter how arduous? You would want to know how. I don't have all the answers, but I have an idea of where to start. I have to stop setting these ridiculous standards by which I judge life and assign value. Taking chances is a part of growing up. I need to accept that I am human. Humans make mistakes; it's natural. So I guess what I'm trying to say is there is no reason for me to go into hiding. Sometimes things will be great, other times they will suck, but I will still be me and life will continue.

apologies

2007-09-22T04:18:00.000+02:00

As if it isn't completely clear, I am retiring my blog. My head is clouded, my heart hurts, everything is wrong. Maybe I'll return if when this nightmare abates.

like a skinny kid loves cake?

2007-08-22T15:24:00.000+02:00

I love to bake. Typically I don't bake as much as I would like to because I need people around to eat it. So I tend to bake when there is some kind of event, otherwise I give the stuff to coworkers and friends. Lately, I have been baking a lot of cupcakes. I love cupcakes because they are super cute and fun to decorate. I gave last week's cupcakes to my neighbors, the apartment complex manager, and him and his 2 roommates. I have a reputation for making fabulous desserts (for the most part, lol, accidents happen, okay!).

A couple years back, my roommate Kenisha asked me to bake the cakes for a going-away party that she was hosting for her then boyfriend who was moving to LA. The party was being planned by her and his mother, who lived in Arizona and was coming to Colorado for the event as well as to help him move. Anyway, as they were figuring out what they needed to buy as far as decorations and sending out invitations and such, Kenisha let his mom know that I would be taking care of the cakes so they didn't need to order any. On the day of the party, I went over to Kenisha's house and as she was introducing me to his mom, she took one look at me and said Bones is going to bake a cake?!? I just stood there in shock. I thought that when you said you had a friend that was going to make the cakes, it was going to be some big ol' girl. Bones can't bake a cake. She continued as if I wasn't even there. My feelings were crushed. I didn't even know what to say. Kenisha told me to just ignore her (and as I spent more time around her, I realized that she lacks a bit of couth). I put it out of my mind, baked the cakes and they looked and tasted great. Nevertheless, to this day, what she said comes to mind, except that now instead of hurting my feelings it makes me laugh.

Today I baked chocolate fudge cupcakes topped with mocha amaretto buttercream frosting. They are extremely rich and delicious (unless of course you don't care for chocolate and/or coffee). Baking is like the perfect blend of science and art. So yes, bones can bake a cake. Thank you very much.

Is it true that Miss Cleo is going to be on The Surreal Life?

2007-08-16T19:38:00.000+02:00

So I headed out this morning in pursuit of a couple of envelopes and some stamps. Three hours later, I found myself carrying a new TV up to my 5th floor apartment (all by myself, respect the muscle power). My old TV broke last year a couple months before I was scheduled to leave the country. The screen just went completely black one day (though the sound continued working fine). Everyone said that it wouldn't be worth having it repaired and that I should buy a new one instead. I figured it best to go without for a while and buy one when I returned. Now normally when I need to make a big purchase which involves a lot of different possibilities (commonly electronics), it takes me a long time. My usual process consists of online research and reviews, store visits, and price comparisons followed by an indefinite state of indecision and inactivity. After a while, I restart with the research because by then there are probably new products to consider. Eventually, I do come to a conclusion. Even if it takes me a bit longer, I don't mind too much, because I need to feel satisfied with my choice and cannot deal with buyer's remorse. Although I do have to admit that the whole process can be frustrating, especially when it is something that is more essential, like a television. If it was simply about me not being able to watch TV then it wouldn't have been such a pressing issue, because I have gotten used to not having one around. But when you can't invite someone over to watch a movie with you, it becomes a problem. And the Wii wasn't looking very impressive sitting around in its box either. I bought a TV, I'm happy with it, and what's that? I scheduled an appointment for cable installation tomorrow, gasp. Finally, I can watch all the shows that everyone is always talking about like Making the Band 4, Baldwin Hills, and all the other stuff they won't put online. Not to mention, no more watching episodes online constantly being interrupted by buffering. Movie previews, commercials, music videos. Finally, I am rejoining contemporary society.

Predictions for the upcoming week:
Want to come over and watch a movie with me? I made cupcakes.
We should watch The Hills together on Monday. Stop by around 7.
Wii party over here!!!!

stupid

2007-08-15T20:48:00.000+02:00

Apparently, I like being stressed and anxious. Love it, in fact. Because if I didn't then I wouldn't insist on getting myself all emotionally worked up when my brain is thinking logically and telling me to calm down and reminding me that other times when I have felt this exact same way, things have always turned out fine and to put more faith in God and stop trying to make my own plans only to end up upset when they don't work out the way that I had planned, but end up working out perfectly according to God's plan. And everytime, every single time, every single fucking time, I look back and I laugh at myself for being so foolish. Yet, I continue to do it again and again. WHY?!?! That's the part I can't get. So the answer must be that I enjoy it.

All's fair in love and war, right?

2007-08-07T20:26:00.000+02:00

I'm sitting at home watching How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days with a cool glass/bottle of shiraz, and it got me thinking about how the boy that I am dating is absolutely great. Attentive. Caring. Thoughtful. Affectionate. Catering. Dare I say...perfect. So perfect, that he makes me look like a complete ass. I mean what do you do when you are telling your friends stories and they are like Wow, he is so sweet! God Leela, how could you say that, you are so mean. Like what?!?! You are supposed to be repping Team Leela. Team Leela for life!!!! You are my friends! You should be saying If he ever hurts, he will have to answer to me. But nooooo, it's more like, Leela, please don't screw this up. Please. Leela, please. And believe you me (isn't that the weirdest expression), I have no intention of purposely messing things up. So you people can stay off of Team him (with all of the Leela, why?!?/Leela, what exactly is the problem?!?! comments) because guess what, there was a merger and we are now Team Us. So there!

The Libra Woman
Your date's charm and elegance masks a profound insecurity that her whole life is superficial. She might seem like she has it all, but she feels the scales aren't in her favor, continuously missing some part of herself that was never there to begin with. Clue: You can't complete her and don't try to fix her. She's not broken, just broken hearted...that the world isn't as beautiful and fair as she wants to believe. Help her to accept what's available rather than what should be possible.

oh little brother

2007-08-03T20:01:00.000+02:00

My brother has a beer bong in the garage. When my dad asked, he told him that it was part of a science experiment. My dad said I'm not stupid.

whoa, it's August!?!

2007-08-02T12:03:00.000+02:00

I dislike public speaking. Mainly because I'm just no good at it. I had to give a presentation in class today on a paper entitled Little Evidence for Developmental Plasticity of Adult Hematopoietic Stem Cells. Riveting, I tell you. But the point is that I hate giving presentations because I always get ridiculously nervous. No matter how much I remind myself to command the deeper voice, I end up talking way too fast in a super high-pitched tone. And although I'm not one of those people who repeats umm, I repeat and instead, automatically turning all of my sentences into run-ons. At some point, I tend to lose my train of thought, because I'm so focused on my anxiety and then I scramble to regain control. It could be worse in my mind than reality, but still it's not a pretty sight. Basically I don't think that I like being the center of attention. It makes me nervous. I'm probably being too self-conscious. Anyway, to my surprise, today I overcame my usual nervousness. I spoke calmly and clearly without fear of being asked questions that I wouldn't have answers to. And I felt great doing it. It may be a residual effect of that wine flight that I had last night. Whatever. Don't rain on my parade.

a little bit late, but still...

2007-07-23T00:38:00.000+02:00

I was tagged by Jess, so here goes...

Rules:
1. We have to post these rules before we give you the facts.
2. Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5. Don't forget to leave them a comment telling them they're tagged, and to read your blog.

1. I do not like carbonation. I never have. So I don't drink soda or other carbonated beverages. I don't like the fizzy sensation. When I first began drinking beer, I used to swirl and let my beer sit and repeat until it went mostly flat. Everyone thought it was gross. (Exception: I love champagne.)

2. I have always been a late bloomer. I use that as an excuse for my awkwardness.

3. 11:11 is my favorite time.

4. Drains and raw meat disgust me. (I'm not too fond of most cooked meat either.)

5. I am accident prone when it comes to burns. Flat iron, curling iron, oven/stove, basically anything that gets hot, I manage to burn myself with every opportunity. If I didn't have at least one burn on my body at all times, I might start to worry.

6. I lived in Panama in the late 80s during US occupation of the Panama Canal Zone. During Operation Just Cause, I remember not being able to attend school and having to remain low to the floor in the house at mealtimes. As a result, crisis situations, such as storms, always give me a calming sense of togetherness.

7. Boba tea makes me ridiculously happy. It is probably the caffeine, but I prefer to think there is something magical in those balls of tapioca.

8. Showering is great. I shower at least twice a day.

In direct violation of rule 4, i shall not be explicitly tagging 8 people. If you want to be tagged, then go ahead.

I guess I'm disturbed.

2007-07-18T09:59:00.001+02:00

You [mixed people] like to think you are special, so you create your own problems.
- name withheld

One of the earliest childhood dilemmas arises when encountering the racial classification survey. Choose a racial category. I remember seeing that for the first time on a standardized test in elementary school. Can we choose more than one? someone asked. No, choose only one. If you are more than one race then choose the one which you are more of. That didn't really sit well with me since 50% and 50% are equal. Well, just pick other. What exactly is other? I didn't know. I blackened in the circle. Other. Okay.

As times changed and having the option to choose multiple categories became standard, things got easier. Black or African American. Asian. And in the rare case when choosing more than one classification wasn't an option, I always had my sentimental other to fall back on. Some other race. Biracial. Other, please describe.

But yesterday this issue resurfaced in a new light as I was completing a job application survey online. Only one choice was allowed so I instinctively scanned down to the bottom of the list to choose other and was shocked to see that instead of other, the non-specific category was labeled unknown. I highlighted that circle with my cursor. Unknown?

so.....

2007-07-17T23:41:00.000+02:00

I like this boy. And it appears that he likes me too.
Now where exactly is the problem in that?
Apparently, there isn't one.

this may make sense to no one but me

2007-06-24T13:24:00.000+02:00

Yeah yeah yeah. It is way past time for an update. Thanks for being patient :)

So I have been back in the land of the free, home of the brave, America the beautiful for over 3 weeks now. I have been experiencing a mixture of emotions, from nostalgia to confusion to pure joy. Enough already with that emotional ish. Truth is, I just don't know where to start, so much has happened since I last posted. Basically I have been readjusting to life in the States (read: eating too many burrrritos and drinking like an undergrad. Ahem, among other things of course).

Anyway, I'll just start with the here and now. I'm in Grand Junction where my dad and brother live. (Never heard of it? Well it's a small city in the valley of Western Colorado, aka Dysfunction Junction, Junk Town. As if! No no no, I'm not from GJ, my family just lives here.) I am living in Boulder for the summer (a 4 hour drive away). Every so often I come home to chill (and in the case of this weekend, to pick up some clothes and my bike). And sometimes I remember how much I do NOT like it here. (LOATHE it.) How much I do NOT belong here. (Total outcast.) Maybe it brings back memories that I would rather not have.
But then when I really think about it I realize that actually I am being reminded that these memories no longer have a hold on me the way they once did. I used to be afraid of what certain people thought about me. I wanted to fit in so badly. (But when you move to a small town during your junior year of high school, where everyone has known each other since preschool, and you are the only person of color, which makes the other kids afraid, chances of fitting in are not looking great.)
One day I got smart and asked myself: Why do I care so much about what you think? What makes you so special? Who are you in the scheme of life? The answer is no one. You are NO ONE to me (and to most of the rest of the world, which by the way, you have never seen. Okay, now I'm just being bitter and mean. Apologies.)

Leela, you have changed so much. Well yeah. I have grown. Up. It's what I do. I always want to be moving towards a better me. Every time I come back to GJ, I am amazed by all the new buildings and businesses that seem to spring up overnight. I find irony in the fact that as much as the scenery changes, the people never seem to follow suit. I guess that small town mentality just can't be shook. So I thank Grand Junction for showing me what it means to waste a life through under achievement and sending me running in the opposite direction.

There is a certain myth that claims that in order to truly leave Grand Junction for good, you has to take some dirt with you or else you will inevitably move back. Fortunately, I have never had that problem. Grand Junction has never had that kind of hold on me. Like I said, I'm not from here.

cause it's Friday, you ain't got no job...

2007-06-02T03:15:00.000+02:00

I'm at home. Hanging with my brother. Laughing. Singing. Being loud. Watching DVDs. Performing beauty rituals. Sipping on cool drinks. Enjoying the sun. Chillaxin.
Life is good.

Beggars can't be choosers.

2007-06-02T03:09:00.000+02:00

lui: I miss you.
moi: Why do you miss me?
lui: I've gotten used to you.
moi: Oh.

Wait, when did I become a beggar?!?

I woke up this morning feeling crazy.

2007-05-25T18:28:00.000+02:00

I think I had some bad dreams last night. I can't remember them, so I guess I'll never know. I had my oral exam final this morning. Rocked it. Woot! My FB asked, "How did your exam go?" "Great. The professor said that I speak very well." "I told you that." He said annoyed. But whatever, I don't believe that. Because they don't see the amount of effort that I go through in my mind to organize my thoughts into sentences that actually make sense. In a timely conversational manner, nonetheless. Masculine or feminine? Which tense? How do I pronounce that? Does that verb take a direct or indirect object? They don't know the frustration I feel when I can't find/don't know the right words to express my thoughts. They only hear what comes out of my mouth. I'm not impressed. Typical me.

My dad reminds me that to whom much is given, much is expected. I know. He is my greatest inspiration, yet he feeds my susceptibility to anxiety with diligence.

I closed my bank account and cancelled my cell phone contract today. I started to realize that I am actually leaving in a couple of days. (Sounds familiar.) I'm going home. Home. There's no place like home. Home sweet home. Home is where the heart is. Home. Or whatever it means for a person with nomadic tendencies. I move for the nostalgia.

It's been storming for the past hour. Lots of rain, thunder, and lightning. The sky has a hazy yellow-green hue. The hyper white flashes of lightning reach across the sky momentarily changing it violet. Perfect weather for studying for tomorrow's written exam. What? Tomorrow is Saturday. Yeah well.

5 days!!!

2007-05-24T14:23:00.001+02:00

No, I haven't died. And I'm not on a blogging break or anything like that. Truth is, last Thursday I finally clicked one of the 20 million popup ads that pollute my screen on the daily. And who would've guessed, it actually worked! So now I am busy packing for my new life. In AMERICA!!!

I had the Beyoncé experience.

2007-05-18T19:55:00.000+02:00

I went to see Beyoncé in concert this past Wednesday at Bercy. It was awesome! She sang EVERYTHING, from her B-day album to Dreamgirls to old old original Destiny's Child songs. She danced her ass off. She didn't even fall, like not even a stumble. The orchestra (all girls) and dancers were amazing. I was impressed. So much so that I'm not even going to mention how the 20 minute intermission between her and the opening act, Lemar (who?), was closer to 50 minutes. Bottom line: She rocked. My photographs, uh, not so much. It's like where's Waldo, except with Beyoncé. Hint: She's the shiny one, probably in the middle.

Stars really should be 2.5 times the size of us common folk. It would make the world a better place, or at least improve their visibility. Just a thought.

a weekend in Normandie

2007-05-14T14:41:00.000+02:00

Tranquil. That is the one word that best describes Deauville and Trouville. Of course, charming, chic, and many other adjectives are easily applicable. But nothing was as pervasive as the tranquility. It was present amidst the wind and the chilling rain. It was found on destination-free walks through neighborhoods filled with grand old homes, empty, waiting without complaint for their summer guests. It appeared from the depths of glasses of beer and in the savory flesh of fresh fish. Tranquility. I felt it in the sand and broken seashells beneath my bare feet. I heard it in the rhythmic lapping of the ocean against the shore. I saw it in the rays of sunshine that diffused through a cloudy grey backdrop like a window to heaven. I possessed it in the hand that was interlocked with mine. I might have spent a lifetime on that beach and never noticed the passing of time.

It was a good day.

2007-05-12T01:09:00.000+02:00

Today I didn't even have to use my AK. And that's not even the best part. I saw the fugliest pictures ever of an ex on the Facebook. And it brought me joy in sinful proportions. Dirty lying coward. Now some may argue that he was never much of a looker to begin with and most likely they are correct. I was blinded by ~~love~~ booze.

Anyway, today I have to cut my nightly multislacking off early, so that at 6:18 AM when my alarm goes off, I actually get up right away instead of rolling around and pressing snooze a million times and end up missing my train for which the tickets are non-refundable. Sweet dreams…

It's not that I repeat myself, I just say things more than once.

2007-05-11T02:21:00.000+02:00

So I am awake, because I'm not sleepy yet. I figured that I would write something since I am still up and all, except that I really can't think of anything other than how I want to eat a bowl of brown sugar oatmeal for breakfast. It's not even that I'm hungry right now, because I'm not; it's the taste that I want. The sugary oatmealy goodness. That anticipation fuels hunger.

I typically indulge my craving instead of fighting them. I eat whatever I have a taste for. Sometimes that means grazing on peanut butter M&Ms for a whole day, eating nothing but granola for weeks, or smothering everything with cheese for a month, however long it takes to run its course. It's as if something is missing and either that absence must be filled or allowed time to fade away.

Maybe I am missing something (else). Maybe that something is someone. Or maybe it's just that I'm not getting enough from him. Maybe its expectation rather than anticipation that fuels this longing. Maybe it is in vain.

Early Saturday morning my FB and I are off to Deauville in Normandie. Hoping for sunny skies and smooth sailing. Anyway, I don't even think there is any oatmeal here. So hopefully that craving will be put to rest with a little sleep. Nighty night.

P.S. Wishing a very Happy 24th Birthday to Kenisha and Anisah!!! (who decidedly do not read this blog, but so what)

I do not struggle in your web because it was my aim to get caught
But daddy longlegs, I feel that I'm finally growing weary
Of waiting to be consumed by you
Give me the first taste
~ Fiona Apple

FYI

2007-05-10T19:55:00.000+02:00

Some people are drawn to a beautiful, pearly smile.
Many prefer a vibrant personality and sense of humor.
While a well-toned body renders others weak.
Me? I have a thing for last names. Surnames.
(I like all of that other stuff too though.)

Now not just any old last name will do. I mean a good last name. And what exactly is that? There's the difficulty because as always, it depends. There are no strict rules. Nevertheless I will try to lay down some basic guidelines.
- not very common (at least by American standards)
- memorable (in a good way, preferably no connections with public scandals)
- audibly aesthetic
- has some sort of meaning

Side note: The last name doesn't necessarily have to be very long or difficult to pronounce (although the latter can be a plus, case in point, you always know when telemarketers are calling by the way they (can't) pronounce your name). I am also somewhat partial to last names beginning with the letters L, M, and V. There is just something unexplainably appealing about certain names.

Now wait a minute, let me make it clear. I don't plan on actually changing my last name when I get married.* I will add on Jada Pinkett Smith style if the name is worthy. Otherwise I shall be known forevermore as Mrs. Velayudhan. The one who holds the spear.

Due to the subjective nature of this determination, last names are best reviewed on a case by case basis. Okay then, let's see.
Jones. Smith. Martin. Keep it moving.
Johnson. Anderson. No sons. Thanks.
White. Williams. Lewis. Next please.
Campbell. No.
Kumar. Kim. Ho. No no NO!
Rodriguez. You've got to be kidding me.
Lovejoy. Hmm…I'll consider it.
Mbikina. Oooh, hold up boy. Can I get at you for a minute? Sooo, do you like have any plans for, say the next decade or so…

* Whoa, I know you caught that. I know you are thinking, oooh she said when she gets married, instead of if. I know you are saying it's always the ones who shun marriage who are the first to tie the knot with a smirk on your face. Oh whatever.

from another angle

2007-05-07T12:06:00.000+02:00

nearing
. the end .
and time is flying
I'm trailing behind
drowning in my tears
as it drags me along by the wrist
wait, I need a minute
to catch my breath

to consult my heart
restive, tense, I'm ready
sprinting ahead without regard
choking on screams
evading the confines of its grasp
is it time yet?
back at
. the beginning .

I am the problem.

2007-05-06T12:51:00.000+02:00

You know how there is always that one person in a relationship who is the problem. They are the one who manages to find something wrong when everything is fine. They are the one to incite an argument and then cry about everything being so unfair. Well, that problem person is me. I have no problem admitting it. Now the why is another issue. Blame it on my steadfast belief that this is not going to work anyway, so let's just end it now. There is logic to that, no? This relationship will more than likely end terribly with both parties getting hurt and requiring all kinds of emotional healing. Is it worth all of that? Wouldn't you rather skip all of that drama in the middle and end it right here? Forget the marriage, we're already divorced. I've always been good at walking away. It leaves me with a sense of relief rather than regret. A feeling that I can once again breathe easy. Why do I think like this? Perhaps I only want what I feel like I don't have. Maybe my fear of being hurt is too deep-seated. Or it could be that the idea of permanence repulses me. Is this working out well for me? I guess it depends on what exactly you define as working out well. Honestly speaking, no, not really. And I have tried to change this pattern and employ a different approach, but when push comes to shove, I revert back to old habits and do what I do best. Run away.

What would Jack Bauer do?

2007-04-30T12:40:00.000+02:00

Let's not focus on the fact that I went to class today in the same clothes that I had on all day yesterday. Let's also ignore that I hadn't showered and I smelled anything but fresh. Hair uncombed, teeth unbrushed. It was so bad that even the beggar people didn't find it worth their time to taunt me with their normal Please. I'm hungry. Please. antics. Oh yeah, and I didn't have my books either. Let's put that all to the side and concentrate on the positive. I went to class on time. Early, in fact. Right. So yeah, that's about it for the positives.

Wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, Leela? No it started way before that, maybe with my french boy's bedtime story about an ex girlfriend giving him head in front of her friend and how that incident played a factor in their breakup. I guess that bottle of whiskey put him in a sharing mood. Sharing is caring after all. Wanna spoon? Uh yeah, how about NO! Does it change anything if I tell you that that was supposed to be a convincing counter argument to me saying that I didn't feel respected? Confused? I was too. First of all, I was sleeping and he wakes me up to tell me that I need to eat, because I hadn't eaten anything since early afternoon. He was right and I appreciate his concern for my hypoglycemia and all, but it was 2 AM and I was ASLEEP. I don't want/need to be woken up to eat. I was grumpy. It became clear that he wasn't giving up without a fight, so I ate some food to appease him in hopes that he would let me go back to sleep, but that became me insulting him and the food from his homeland and the people who prepared it and his culture and heritage and his entire family going back for generations including the local village dog Tanto, because I didn't like it.
I like it. It's good.
Then why aren't you eating?
Let's see… I'm not hungry! I need to go back to sleep. I need to wake up in the morning to go to class. I have to go home before class to get ready and to get my books.
That's where the not feeling respected comment came in which diverted his attention from feeding me.

When you wake up with rehdogg's Why must I cry playing in your head, you should already know that something is not right. Add in the mix waking up just late enough where you have to decide between going straight to class (on time, as you are, without your books) and going home to get ready (disrupting class by showing up at least 30 minutes late). Now what if you find yourself relating to the profoundness of the lyrics instead of laughing at rehdogg's voice and facial expressions? Lord help me. What is the problem here? I don't know, but I'm going to take a shower, put on my favorite raggedy ass CU sweatpants, lounge in my bed eating my rice and dahl while pondering the eternal mystery Why must I cry? Why? My phone is off because I don't feel like talking to anyone today, but be aware that I will be checking it every now and again just to make sure a certain person is calling. No I don't want to talk to him, but I'll be damned if he doesn't call.

WWJ(B)D? I can tell you that he certainly wouldn't be sitting in his room shutting out the world. He would shoot someone.

Plan B.

blah blah blah

2007-04-25T11:02:00.000+02:00

I haven't been feeling like myself lately. Not really sure what that means. Nothing is specifically wrong, it is just that I can't place how I feel. About anything.
Am I happy? Am I sad? Stressed? Excited? I couldn't tell you. My french boy? Yeah, I guess I like him. He's cool. What do I want? I don't know. What do I feel like doing? I don't know that either. I'm not hungry. I'm not sleepy. I'm just blah. Anyway, I'm annoying myself with this nonsense. I hope this nothingness passes soon. And this UTI too, because I'm sick of peeing being the only thing I feel the urge to do.

Barcelona was beautiful.

2007-04-22T02:01:00.000+02:00

to make a long story short

2007-04-21T16:06:00.000+02:00

I'm back from Barcelona and I was planning on raving about how beautiful it was. Not only was the weather ideal, but the people were super friendly, the food was fabulous, and the shopping, OMG the shopping! Yes, I was planning on writing that. That is, until last night. Last night I was at a club and my watch was fucking stolen. STOLEN. I was beyond irate. And it went deeper than just a missing watch, I felt violated. Having something stolen from my person left me feeling extremely vulnerable. And it was like no one was understanding that, which only made me more angry. In my rage, I used a lot of foul language and directed my outrage at inappropriate targets. (I had been drinking.)* I scared myself with how emotionally out of control I was. Ultimately, I was most upset with myself, because at the beginning of the night I had had this sinking feeling that something bad was going to happen, but I decided to ignore it, pay careful attention to my bag, and try to enjoy myself. Way to go.
This morning I was still really mad, and every time I would look at my wrist to check the time only to find it bare, my anger just heightened. So in the airport waiting for my flight back home, I bought a new watch in duty free. I am feeling a bit better.

* a clarification, not an excuse

what you know about that

2007-04-14T03:37:00.000+02:00

1. I am keeping a lot of tension in my mouth area. I noticed this development while I was looking at recent photographs of myself (exhibit A – see photo in the post below). I was wondering, why am I always doing this weird lip pursing thing? Not cute. On top of that, my teeth grinding has returned. It's not that it ever stopped, but I was wearing my mouth guard nightly (oooh the sexiness) until…I'm not sure what happened, but I stopped. Yesterday I decided that I needed to start using it again, but when I woke up this morning it was on the floor. Now I spend a good part of my day consciously reminding myself to relax my mouth. I have self-diagnosed this as a symptom of smile deprivation, because I have no other reason to be so tense.

2. I bought a new pair of chopsticks. They are beautiful shiny and polished metal. I love them.

3. I'm longing for a good night of incoherent fun. One of those nights where no one remembers exactly what happened. The morning after, you all sit around over a breakfast of greasy cheese and/or ranch covered food trying to piece together jumbled memories ~~in attempt to determine what his name is, why you thought he was cute, and what exactly he is doing (sleeping) in your shower.~~

4. My fellow countrywomen may have shed their Uggs for flip flops weeks ago, but it was not until yesterday that I actually felt a change in the air. It feels like spring now. And that can only mean one thing: spring fever…

Lacanau was lovely.

2007-04-13T18:57:00.000+02:00

I have been less than enthusiastic about my photographs lately. I want/need a new digital camera (the Canon PowerShot SD800 IS/Canon Digital IXUS 850 IS to be specific). Without further ado...

C'est la belle vie.

2007-04-08T22:15:00.000+02:00

Non? He asked me yesterday, as we lounged under a parasol, me, mai tai in hand and him drinking a beer. We are in Lacanau-Océan, where the biggest challenge has been determining where the vast blue of the water ends and the sky begins. I had almost forgotten how much I love the sun, the comfort of its heat, the energy in its brilliance. I had forgotten that the sun actually does have the power to wake you up in the morning when it shines through the window. It's days like this when I can't help but smile and feel absolutely grateful.

And you knew that I couldn't leave the computer at home. So I am sitting here blogging, while my french boy is busy yelling and clapping at the tele (ie watching the game), drowning his sorrow and/or happiness in whiskey and a cloud of smoke. The hotness that is soccer boys…
Woot Marseille?!!!

Happy Easter!

Spring break starts today!

2007-04-06T00:38:00.000+02:00

2 weeks on holiday!!! Count them: 1. 2. No obligations. Just fun in the sun (or chasing it).

I didn't make it to my grammar class this morning. I was too sleepy. But I was certain to not let the guilt of being absent creep into my thoughts out of fear of becoming like my brother, whose claim to fame is never having missed a university class. EVER. He's a junior. That is just not normal. And he is crazy serious about it too. No, I can't do that. I have class. The scary part is that I was kind of beginning to understand his point of view. Perfect attendance can start to mess with your rational thinking. It can convince you that it is the best way and you will be lost without it. I know better than that.

Lately I have been craving nothing but sweets and I have been feeling really dehydrated (nothing to do with the drinking, I'm sure). Maybe 2 days ago, I ordered a crème brûlée at a restaurant (I watched Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amélie Poulain earlier this week too) and it was TERRIBLE. I ate less than half of it (out of guilt of being a food waster) before leaving the rest. When the waiter returned to the table, he remarked that it was not finished and asked if it was good. I told him not really. He seemed a bit confused and asked me if I was french. I told him that I was american. He asked if I knew the dessert. I told him yes. He asked if there is crème brûlée in the US. Yes again. He explained to me that they serve it all of the time and they never get any complaints from any customers. To appease him, I said fine, maybe it's me. But no, it was NOT me. It was too eggy and the top was not caramelized enough (thwarting my Amélie moment completely). It sucked. End of story.

As for the dehydration, I am heading out to the beach for the weekend, or so I'm promised by my french boy (which one is he? you ask. The one who lives in Texas and says okie dokie). I haven't packed yet. I'll do that in the morning. Who needs class anyway?

What is the meaning of this?

2007-03-31T01:58:00.000+02:00

moi: I'm really sorry! I am easily distracted.
lui: By what?
moi: Anything.

In this case, life and uh yeah, the internet, oooh Yahoo Answers...

I know that I am slacking here. I should be writing an update. But I'm not.
But I will.
OMG, this is soooo funny!!! 100% of the time you're on the stupid!

It's raining and my stomach hurts.

2007-03-19T15:27:00.000+01:00

Some foods can only be eaten when you are alone. A brownie with peanut butter, vanilla buttercream frosting, and sprinkles is one of them. I woke up this morning to a cloudy grey sky. I felt betrayed. All last week the weather was beautiful. No need for a heavy coat, boots, or even an umbrella. The weather allowed us to play tennis at Luxembourg, which I am told is very chic (an opinion which I'm sure would change if they would've actually seen us playing). When you are ecstatic to have even hit the ball with the racket, the fact that it went over the fence into the neighboring court disrupting another game is secondary. I'm certain that our neighbors were fed up with retrieving our balls and very pleased when our game turned into more of a Lacoste photo shoot. So what happened to the spring of last week? This morning, with a defeated attitude, I was ready to take a wool coat from the wardrobe, but against my better judgment, I put on a light track jacket instead. I kind of froze my ass off this afternoon, although not in vain, because I have decided that the best way to bring on spring weather is to dress for it. The sun just needs a little encouragement.

Merci mille fois!

2007-03-13T22:41:00.000+01:00

When you are young, receiving mail is super exciting. Except that you always wonder why you never get anything in the mail (other than the occasional holiday card or letter from India). So your parents try to satisfy you with the junk mail that they don't want. When that stops working they get you a couple of magazine subscriptions and find you some pen pals in Australia and Finland. You wait expectantly knowing that the mail brings treasures from afar. Specifically for you. However, as you age this mail excitement turns into more of a nuisance as mail becomes synonymous with bills. Glossy bulk mailings lose their appeal. Packages are filled with the things that you bought online for yourself. It isn't the same.

When you are far away from home, mail once again resumes its magical quality. Anything in the mail for me today? A junk magazine from the bank! Woot! But today was even more special than that, because I returned home to a large envelope with my name on it. An envelope containing a card, CD, and a bag full of miniature Reese’s cups.

Thank you my dearest Helena! You really are the greatest!!!!! Miss you lots!!!

Comments on YouTube suck.

2007-03-07T09:17:00.000+01:00

They are always the stupidest things written by 7th graders ditching school or something who don't seem to understand the rules of grammar or know how to spell. And those ridiculous chain comments. All unnecessary.*

Anyway, I am actually writing this to inform you that I saw Lily Allen in concert this past Sunday. She rocks! You can check out some of my footage here and here.

* Although I may not always follow them, I do know grammar rules. So there goes your smart-ass sentence fragment comment.

It must be me.

2007-03-04T10:41:00.000+01:00

Flakey ass friends. Why am I inflicted with these fuckers? I feel like a magnet for them, because it's not just one friend or a one time rare occurrence. I would be able to understand that. But this is too extensive to be normal. Lies, excuses, cancellations, disappearances, all around flakiness. I'm fed up!

Maybe it means that it's time for me to learn to be more independent and self-sufficient. I don't know. Maybe I expect too much from others.

I am admittedly a bad judge of character. Still, I would rather not think that it is me. I consider myself loyal and I try to treat people with respect, but lately I feel like the sentiment is not being reciprocated.

Seeing that I am the common factor in all of these relationships, how do I not take it personally?

Or maybe I should because I am doing something wrong and need to change my behavior.

meet at step 3

2007-02-27T23:38:00.000+01:00

It really doesn't need to be said that the Facebook and I are not really friends. So then why am I spending so much time on it? And doing what exactly? Yeah, not even sure. Wasting time.

I still don't completely understand the concept of these Facebook virtual gifts. I thought they were just a Valentine's Day thing, but they are still around. And now I see that they are offering a special edition gift each day with a limited quantity available. I have to admit that they are kind of cute. So I just want to let you know that I have reconsidered my position and I would like one of these, please.

It's only $1 and it is for cancer research for goodness sakes.

Don't make fun of me.

2007-02-26T01:14:00.000+01:00

So I decided to stop losing my mind, get myself together, and try to fit in. At least long enough to make some cupcakes. And what goes better with sugary sweetness with sprinkles on top than a nice happy story.
.
.
.
Except I can't seem to think of a story that doesn't involve me doing something really stupid. I will have to substitute a nice happy memory. I can do that.

I am disturbingly bad at receiving compliments. I'm not exactly sure why. (Good thing they are far and in between.) I think that sometimes they seem overtly contrived and insincere. The same overused phrases lack meaning. Perhaps it's the motive that I am leery of. Why are you saying that to me? You must want something.
Instead, the silliest things flatter me. Things that were meant in a certain way, that I prefer to take out of context and give a completely different meaning (because life truly is better in my imagination).

A very long time ago in a very far away land, a boy and I were discussing the pronunciation of people's names and how intonation affects connotation (or something like that). I believe that the topic stemmed from him thinking that I pronounced a mutual friend's name like a swear word. Anyway, it ended with me noting that he didn't say my name very often. To which the boy replied, that is because when I say your name I feel like I don't do it justice.

No, it doesn't make sense. Yes, it is ridiculous. Refer back to post title. Thanks.

I don't understand it.

2007-02-21T21:15:00.000+01:00

It feels like a ball of really bright light which starts out next your heart. It increases in intensity becoming heavier as it elongates vertically reaching all the way down past your stomach. Your breathing and heart rate become painfully self-apparent. The light pulses, sometimes slowly, then faster, and with each pulse it tightens its grip.

It makes running seem like the best idea. Around the house. Around the neighborhood. Away. It becomes the only escape. For a while at least. Time passes annoyingly slowly, so you move fervently to try to make up for its lack. Finding things to fill the time is the only thing that makes it pass. You seek out movement to dissipate the excess energy. Thoughts race without logic, running on and on or in circles. It turns even the most trivial thing into a catastrophe. Failure feels certain. Possibilities are the enemy. It all runs together into a blur. Worry takes over. Functioning under its weight is overwhelming. Eating becomes obsolete, or at best, a chore, just to alleviate the shaking which you hope is a result of low blood sugar. And sleep, forget about it.

This anxiety. It begs not to be silenced by meds. You will be nothing without me, it taunts. We get so much done together.
Maybe so but what's the point? I want to know. When you make everything feel worthless.

I thought I'd figure out how to change,
But you never change.
~ Slow Runner

Year of the Pig

2007-02-18T18:00:00.000+01:00

Happy Chinese New Year!!

The weather has been absolutely gorgeous this weekend. The sun has been shining relentlessly, which caused my mood to soar with equal vigor. So this afternoon I went to the Chinese New Year parade to celebrate. The costumes were eye-catching, as was the (little bit of) dancing. But overall, I found the parade to be lacking in energy and organization (there were large spaces between the groups, which left one wondering if the parade had in fact finished or if there was more to come). The participants walked way too quickly for being on parade and they didn't display enough excitement. Needless to say, I was slightly disappointed. But it was nothing that a walk along the Seine and a crêpe couldn't solve.

Also, during the parade one of the dragons hit me in the head and I am almost certain that is a sign of good luck. Wishing prosperity, happiness, good fortune, and success to all!

question of the week

2007-02-15T01:22:00.000+01:00

elle: You are American, right?
moi: Yeah.
elle: Well, why is your name Leela?

for the love of Dove milk chocolate hearts

2007-02-14T14:29:00.000+01:00

People are starting to yell. And I know that means that the threats are soon to come.
Stay calm. Unlock the caps. One exclamation point will suffice. Either I am loved enough to be missed or you guys are just really bored. Whatever the case, I am posting.

It seems that almost everyone despises Valentine's Day, but I happen to LOVE it, so Happy Valentine's Day! This love probably has something to do with all the chocolate (which will be on sale tomorrow), flowers, hearts, jewelry, and the colors red and pink (pink has this unexplainable irresistible compelling quality). Throw in the fact that I basically love all holidays and any other reason to celebrate. I don't really have any epic V-Day memories that fuel my anticipation. Although it is funny that two years ago, for Valentine's Day, both of my parents sent me cards with checks included. It was a surprise, because Valentine's Day is not usually a paid holiday. But then it occurred to me, Did they send me money as a distraction because they were afraid that I would be sad or something? Because I wasn't. (Come to think of it that year was rather memorable.) Moving on...

So for all you people that hate Valentine's Day based on the logic that you shouldn't need a holiday to celebrate the ones that you love. I agree with the contention that you should express your love on a daily basis. But since when does a holiday take away from that? If you are already doing it throughout the year then doesn't Valentine's Day just give you an extra opportunity? As for all the other anti-V-Day reasons, to each her/his own (ie whatev).

Happy Valentine's Day (or not punk) XOXO

day 126

2007-02-01T22:25:00.000+01:00

The good: I received my mom's package on Tuesday. They tried to deliver it on Monday, but I wasn't at home, so I went to pick it up the next morning. And all that I'm not a morning person talk went right out of the window as I found myself nearly running down the street to the post office before 10 AM. Now I have more peanut butter and peanut butter M&M's than I can handle. Thanks Mom!!

The bad: My cell phone is lost. I am certain that it went missing somewhere in the movie theater yesterday afternoon, but alas they don't know anything about it.

The ugly: I NEED to do SOMETHING with this hair.

sweet dreams

2007-01-29T02:56:00.000+01:00

I can't sleep. I feel homesick...for food. I especially miss my dad's cooking. As well as all things peanut butter, from peanut butter and honey sandwiches to peanut butter M&Ms. I am longing for some good mexican food, like a burrito with rice, black beans, guacamole, extra hot salsa, and cheese. Or some thai food. And some cupcakes piled high with frosting and sprinkles. Maybe a warm underbaked brownie with french vanilla ice cream on the side. Mmm...

?

2007-01-28T23:49:00.000+01:00

Why the hell am I eating foie gras? Wait, I like it? Do all french parties have to be themed costume parties? What exactly is Men at Work? Is housewarming not enough of a theme? What was that? Open champagne and vodka bar? Plaid shirt and a wrench, will that work? (No, I'm not a Canadian. I'm a mechanic.) What am I drinking? Umm, are you dancing? You want me to dance with you? Haven't I seen that sort of dancing before? (Ah of course, the Sims 2.) Where is my Sims 2 disc? And another thing, where in the world is the package that my mom sent to me, the one that was supposed to arrive on Friday, the one with the peanut butter M&Ms and the Sonicare replacement brush heads??? What is wrong with the postal system?

Jade: It's not as if my confused look needed more practice, it is just that I know how much you love these pics.

This sucks.

2007-01-23T09:49:00.000+01:00

So apparently my body is falling apart.

I woke up this morning with a sore throat. And now I am sneezing up that sickness mucusy taste, which signals that worse is on the way.

Yesterday evening I had the worst headache, which is weird because I rarely get headaches. (And everytime I do, I say that same thing.) It was a terrible dull pain that was spread throughout my forehead. I took some medicine and went to bed early.

The day before that I woke up and my eyes were stuck shut. They hurt so much that I could barely stand to keep them open. I thought to myself, hot damn I have finally contracted conjunctivitis. Because ever since I moved here, I have felt that it would only be a matter of time with all the contaminated spaces that I encounter on a daily basis, between the metro (the poles, seats, handrails) and the public toilets (which ALL lack hot water and paper towels and sometimes even soap). Thankfully it was a false alarm; my eyes were irritated but not infected. I put a bunch of eye drops in them and by the end of the day everything was better.

But I still have this headache and the tingling in my throat is becoming worse.

I blog for me and for you.

2007-01-20T23:34:00.000+01:00

Why do you blog?

When I was introduced to the idea of blogging I was immediately attracted. I liked the idea of combining words with visuals via the internet. I'm easily drawn to all things aesthetic. At that time, I never realized how powerful this medium could be (not only globally, but personally). I didn't know that it would have me clicking next blog like a natural reflex. I didn't realize that I would have pages of subscriptions from which I eagerly await updates. I never guessed that I would be encouraging all of my friends to start blogging (Seriously just try it just once. Everyone is doing it dude. It's super easy.) Or that blogger malfunctioning would make me so freaking angry!!! Bottom line: I LOVE blogs.

I spend too much time in the blogosphere. Reading, lurking, chasing links. Commenting, posting. Maybe it's my slightly addictive personality or my voyeuristic tendencies, but I would like to think that it goes beyond that. So what exactly compels one to blog?

Connection.

For some, blogging is a way to keep in touch with friends and family, a convenient way to share life's happenings. It can provide a means for release, a place where one can vent with freedom or even anonymity. Recounting the day's events becomes a source of clarity. Others blog to network, build relationships and communities. Some blog to remember, others to overcome. Informative, political, humorous, artistic, personal. The reasons for blogging are multifaceted, but the common thread is the desire to feel understood, connected.

I enjoy reading other people's written thoughts and feelings. I find inspiration in their creations, the way that they see themselves and the world around them. Blogging documents someone's journey through life and it opens up perspectives that one may not have been exposed to any other way. It reinforces the belief that one is not alone.

My blog gives me a little place where I reign. It doesn't have a specific focus. It is a little bit of everything, but mostly a lot of nothing. I blog for the interaction (personal and interpersonal) and for the expression. I blog to tell my side of the story. I blog to compartmentalize my emotions. I blog to share. I blog to strengthen my voice. I blog to create something beautiful.

So whatever your reason may be... Blog on!
(Or join in, because really all the cool kids are doing it.)

Hello, My name is Leela.

2007-01-19T19:41:00.000+01:00

I am supposed to be studying today.

Come quickly, I'm drinking stars!

2007-01-13T23:53:00.000+01:00

Today I ventured out to Ephernay and Reims in Champagne, to do what else other than visit wine cellars and taste champagne. I was going to write about my love of champagne and why it is my preferred drink and about how Ephernay is rivaling Vail as my place for retirement just so my grandchildren can say My grandma lives on Avenue de Champagne. But I decided it was better to stick with some unrelated musing instead.

1. There is a large community of people who use sign language in Paris. At least I think so because I happen to come across at least 1 group of people signing per day. Which supplied the inspiration for my best idea of the week (or month, if I'm unlucky). A good way to avoid unwanted gentlemen callers is to start signing in response to their approach. You don't have to know what you are signing, because they won't know either, so in most cases it will work without fail. Unless your cell phone starts ringing or something.

2. Why was this dude wearing a spinner watch?! I had to take a double take because I had never seen anything like that at all. And dude made sure that people noticed, because he kept on spinning it and everything. Assuming that I was behind the times, I had to google this nonsense, and I found that you too can own your a spinner watch (and there's more where that came from) for the low price of $29. My goodness.

3. I really hate the damn Facebook. You may recall that I was forced to take a hiatus from the Facebook early last year, because it was making me want to stab somebody, and I'm not even a violent person. Well really I had no intention of returning, but everyone kept insisting that it is a good way to keep in touch with people. Peer pressure is a bitch. Although also, I did not want to feel like I let something so trivial get the best of me. No, it's not the Facebook itself that I hate, because it is only a tool. I hate that it reminds me of things that I would much rather forget (i.e. 2005 - Year of the Fool (aka me)). It is also a bit disturbing how some things and people never seem to change.

4. Time is FLYING!!!!! It could just be me getting old, but I feel like time is passing so quickly. I will be home in less than 5 months (theoretically), which always leaves my emotions teetering somewhere between bitter and sweet.

Time is relative.

2007-01-09T18:46:00.000+01:00

So apparently I am operating on GMT-3 time, which isn't a problem except that I live in the GMT+1 time zone. I can't sleep at night. I have always been a night owl, but this is getting out of hand. I find myself wide awake at 3 AM, looking at the time, scolding I need to go to sleep. I have to wake up in the morning. But it does no good, because as Jade reminds me "I can never do right." 5 more minutes, I need to finish reading this article. I'm not even sleepy yet. Then finally when I do go to bed, I lie awake distracted by my thoughts, sometimes for minutes, usually for more. I feel compelled to move. When changing positions starts to bore me, I get up to get a drink of water or reapply night lip balm or adjust my bedding. I am restless. My brother has also noted that my teeth clenching during sleep has progressed into audible teeth grinding. This is a problem. A friend has suggested that I try bathing before bed (I'm not too keen on baths) or drinking relaxing herbal tea (which does bring back fond memories of restful nights facilitated by tea and rum...or maybe that was just rum). Whatever the case may be, I need to get my biological clock back on schedule. Speaking of schedules (ignore the fact that it is at least 2 weeks past Boxing Day, this is France), I have been informed that tomorrow the after-Christmas sales will commence. That may just be reason enough for me to go to bed early tonight.

champagne + Lily Allen

2007-01-07T18:40:00.000+01:00

Oh Jesus Christ Almighty,
Do I feel alright? No not slightly.

I have tried to think of a way to describe how I have been feeling lately, but I can't seem to get my mind around it. I wouldn't say that I'm sad. Or happy. Maybe a bit homesick. Anxious. Or tired. I don't know. Nothing specific is wrong. All I know is that I don't feel completely right. I don't feel like my normal self (and I'm starting to even question who that is). Worst of all, I have no idea why.

Do you think, everything, everyone, is going mental,
It seems to me that it's spiraling out of control and it's inevitable.

I had a nice time on vacation in Morocco. But Morocco left a bittersweet taste in my mouth. The country is truly gorgeous. The culture is captivating and the people are dynamic and friendly. And the food... But there came a point when I started to realize that the friendliness was not based on genuine emotions but rather on financial gain. And that disturbed me. I realize that the same things happen world wide, but for some reason I took this very personally. I mean is it fair to expect tourists to pay more than a native person, simply because they have more money in comparison and would pay that price in their home country? About as fair as going to a country for vacation and turning a blind eye to their social problems and not being willing to pay more money because you can? I began to lose my faith in the goodness of humanity (myself included).

Don't you want something else,
Something new, than what we've got here.

And as for 2007, I want it to be a year of change and acceptance. There are personal things that I need to change to become a better me. For instance:
I procrastinate. I procrastinate because I am indecisive. I can't make a decision because I overanalyze all of the possibilities. I do this because I am afraid. I fear making the wrong move and failing. I fear failure because I feel inadequate.

A pattern that needs to stop taking me in circles.

Why can't I sleep at night?
Don't say it's going to be alright.

Then there are things about me that I simply need to accept. I have to stop wanting to be someone else. I have to understand that changing my surrounding circumstances will not change who I am. So I guess that finding balance between change and acceptance is my priority. Because I have always been rather good at change, but acceptance (especially of a personal nature) is another story. I have to stop finding fault in everything that is me.

Maybe imbalanced is the best way to describe how I am feeling. Recently I find myself looking around and thinking What the hell am I doing here? I don't belong here. If any of this makes any kind of sense. My emotions are scattered. Nothing seems stable and I feel like a wanderer. I'm annoyed with my whining.

To celebrate Epiphany, we had a galette des rois and just my luck, I was the one with the fève in my piece, which denoted me as the queen for the day. I wore my paper crown throughout the rest of the evening. And no there really is no grand point here. I'm merely hoping that I'm not as neurotic as I would like to think.

Oh yes, I'm fine.
Everything's just wonderful.
I'm having the time of my life. ~ Lily Allen

there's always next year

2007-01-01T11:52:00.000+01:00

New Year's Eve always manages to suck. Not because anything terrible happens, but because it is overrated. I am guilty of buying into the hype and expecting too much from New Year's Eve. I mean, you are expected to go someplace spectacular, dress fabulously, and have the absolute best time to celebrate the past year and start off the next one. People have these elaborate plans set up months in advance. So when you have a normal time which would be considered a good time any other day of the year, on New Year's Eve, it is disappointing. So forget you New Year's Eve, there are 364 other days of the year to party. Plus, what kind of way is it to start off the new year drunk anyway. Okay, now you know I'm just being bitter.

I won't be home for Christmas.

2006-12-20T09:52:00.000+01:00

Instead, we are leaving this morning for 10 days of sun in Morocco. Woot! Woot!

so fresh and so clean clean

2006-12-19T00:39:00.000+01:00

I got home about 20 minutes ago. I went to the bathroom to do my normal nightly routine which includes washing my face and brushing my teeth. But I couldn't find my toothbrush. Where the hell is my toothbrush? My Oral-B Sonic Complete toothbrush! I have been using this model for over a year now and I LOVE it. I love it because it is extremely thorough. I love brushing my teeth with it. That sparkling clean sensation. Ahhh! So refreshing! (They really should put me in a commercial.) So tonight, I spent a good 10 minutes searching for the damn thing. On the charger where it should be? Of course not. On my desk, in my wardrobe, tossed somewhere among the dirty clothes? No. Perhaps under my pillow or the bed? Nope. Wouldn't you guess that I finally found it sitting in plain view on my armoire. I'm telling you, once you switch, you can never go back to using a manual brush. Earlier this year, I took a trip to LA to visit Jade and I forgot my Sonic Complete at home. I had to use a manual for the duration of the trip. During the day, I would run my tongue along my teeth feeling disgusted with all the grime that I could feel. Ewww. I remember that about 3 years back when I went to India with my Crest SpinBrush Pro (which I do not recommend by the way), I had family members looking at me crazy in the bathroom. Wondering what is that noise? Those Americans, they are too lazy to even brush their own teeth! Seriously though people, it's not even like that. It's all in the name of oral health. Use it and you too will soon discover it is nothing short of AMAZING!

I'm growing up.

2006-12-17T23:44:00.000+01:00

Mistakes are not for repeating.

I focus my attention inward. I try to understand my faults and determine where I need change. I accept responsibility (as hard as it may be) for my mistakes and their consequences. I am moving foward and becoming a better me.

A very long time ago, I wrote in my journal that the biggest mistake that I made with the one I can't let go, was not listening. I spent so much talking, explaining, debating with him. Constantly trying to prove something to him, trying to get him to understand my point of view. That didn't leave much room for me to listen to him. Truly listen to him.

I became judgemental and blamed everything on him as a way of maintaining some sense of control in a situation where my emotions roamed without restraint. I had lost control of myself. I was lost. So I continued to talk at him. I couldn't hear all the signs surrounding me (and yes, there were tons), screaming for my attention.

All of these things I hear so clearly now in hindsight.

Now that I am quiet.

And maybe it was his silence that should have spoken the loudest to me all along.

because you love me

2006-12-14T01:51:00.000+01:00

Love Actually is probably my all-time favorite Christmas movie. It is a total chick flick and yes, I tear up every time I watch it. I especially love the part when Sam says to his dad "Worse than the total agony of being in love?" Such insight…

Love can be a touchy subject, because everyone has their own definitions and opinions of what exactly love should encompass. Love may manifest in various forms, but there are always some common threads. I can't claim to be an expert on the subject, but for me love is an action that involves acceptance, which comes through knowing someone. And since it is near impossible to know someone without spending time with them, it involves investment. An investment of not only time, but emotion. It means knowing the faults as well as the merits of a person and caring about them nonetheless. It means being there for someone through the good and the bad alike.

So this Christmas I am thankful for my loved ones, for those who have invested in me (and who hopefully feel that I have reciprocated the gesture). I am thankful for my friends and all of the time they spend with me, listening to me, crying with me, laughing with me. I am grateful for their continual encouragement, inspiration, advice, and motivation. For the late nights, the early mornings, and all that is in between. I am happy that they have made the choice to travel and grow with me.
I am grateful for my family. I love my mom for her patience (which I have often mistaken for weakness) and her ability to forgive. She alone has the power to make me feel completely comfortable with myself and my decisions. With her, I know there is nothing I can do that would ever cause her to love me any less. (Although she often feels compelled to add me to the prayer list.) I love my dad for his ambition and persistence, his example is one I strive (sometimes struggle) to follow. In his eyes, I have always felt like the most important thing in the world, because I know that there is nothing that he wouldn't sacrifice for the wellbeing of his children. The world can crumble around me and I would still know that I could depend on him for anything/everything. I adore my brother for his innovation and his passion for life. His ability to find humor in all things (albeit at times inappropriate). I grew up by his side; people used to think that we were twins. There is an understanding that I share with him and no one else.
I even appreciate the relationships that have ended. The love that seems to have faded or has left all parties in tears and regret, without which I may never have grown into the person that I am now. I hold on to the memories of times past. I will never lose my hope in the power of love. Because even when love has led me astray, I wouldn't trade those times for anything else. It's true what they say. Love actually is all around. And I am immensely blessed.

I couldn't ask for anything better.

2006-12-12T02:27:00.000+01:00

Is it me or is time flying by?!?! 1 week until Omar arrives!

long overdue

2006-12-11T16:50:00.000+01:00

So I returned from London today. It was a really great trip, other than the expected rain, wind, and chilling temperatures. I traveled via Eurostar and I was super excited, because I LOVE trains. I was especially excited by the prospect of travelling underwater. However my vision of looking through the train window and out of the clear tunnel and being able to see all of the sea life of the English Channel was short-lived as I passed through a completely dark tunnel for no more than 20 minutes only to arrive on the other side, thinking I'm in the UK already? I nodded in and out of sleep for the remainder of the trip. Thursday night I had plans to go to bed early in order to better facilitate early rising on Friday, but of course that didn't happen. Instead, I stayed up late, tasting the 3 different types of bas armagnac that I had bought at the salon des vins a couple weeks back. How I ended up with 3 bottles of brandy instead of a bottle of champagne like I originally planned is another story altogether. So here goes... We went to the salon des vins at 11 AM on a Sunday. Tasting wine this early on a Sunday didn't seem like the best idea, but it seemed better than the alternative of having to deal with the crowds which would undoubtedly show up later. So we decided to meet at 10:30 AM. I opted for the drinking method to wine tasting rather than the pouring out technique, because really I hate to see a good drink go to waste. Needless to say by about noon, I was pretty much faded. I ended up buying 3 bottles of bas armanagac from a vendor whose second question (the first being Where are you from?) was Did you vote for Bush? Jade, I still hold you responsible for this purchase with all of your holiday talk of brandy and egg nog. But it did turn out to be a nice buy (although I am still a bit bitter about not getting the champagne). After the salon des vins, we went up to Montmarte and into the Sacré Cœur. Once inside the cathedral/church/basilica (not quite sure which term is most appropriate), I realized that I was toting my bag of alcohol in the house of the Lord, which I deemed a bit inappropriate and quickly made my way back outside. Overall, the building was very beautiful both inside and out and there is a spectacular panoramic view of Paris from the base of the structure.
Back in London, ordering at a Chinese restaurant, the waiter asks what we will have to drink. I reply: I will take water please.
What?
WA-ter.
What was that?
Wat-ER.
You want WaTer?
Yes. WATER. Thank you.
Damn. Is my American accent that hard to understand? But in his defense (because it is obviously not MY fault), english is not his mother tongue. But really now, how many drink choices are there with 2 syllables that begin with a w.
Glad to be back in Paris, where I feel at home.

For interested parties, the rest of the photos from my trip to London can be found on my Flickr site.

What the _uck is that?

2006-11-28T23:32:00.000+01:00

Okay so maybe I feel a bit obligated to provide some sort of explanation so that people don't dismiss me as a complete whack job (or maybe in attempt to justify my ~~derangement~~ idiosyncrasies to myself). It is all too apparent that I am ceaselessly amused by most derivatives of names for excretory matter. Like poop, poo poo, poopie, dookie, doodie, and of course my all time favorite DOO DOOOOOOOOO!!! (which must be spoken with the proper intonation, mind you) No it's not normal. I realize this, but let me explain my theory of why this may be. During my childhood, I never used these words, because I was taught to say BM.
I need to BM.
Where is the BM?
Did you BM today? Yes, this morning.
Ummm, yeah...kind of lacking in excitement there.
At some point there came a realization that other kids were not using this expression. And along with it came the discovery of this vast collection of alternative words.
Why does saying these words, or better yet hearing someone else use them, tickle me so? Why does my brother insist on nicknaming me with the word poop, from just plain poop, to poop diddy, to the specially reserved P – double O – P diddy?
Believe me when I tell you, it's not our fault, we just can't help it! (Well, admittedly the whole P. Diddy obsession is some kind of personal problem of his.) Blame the parents.

It might be DOO DOO!!!!!
Because it might be BM just isn't right.

It's raining.

2006-11-24T21:47:00.000+01:00

I forgot my umbrella at home today. So it rained on my head all day as I traversed through the city. It sucked. But thankfully I am not (yet) sick as a result.
This whole month has been gray and rainy. I don't hate the rain, in fact I find it rather calming and cozy (while indoors). However I prefer consistent changes in the weather. Because I get through the rainy weekdays knowing that the sun always spends its weekends in Paris. This evening I checked the forecast and much to my disappointment, that will not be the case this weekend. I suppose I will have to make do with indoor activities.

Last weekend was especially beautiful and on Sunday I went for a ride on a bateau-mouche along the Seine. Blending in with the other tourists, I held the metal speaker to my ear listening to the historical explanations of le Louvre, les Invalides, and various other points of interest. Afterwards, I walked along the Seine soaking up the sun.

Oh yeah, for Thanksgiving, Madame and I went to a restaurant for Indian food. Oddly, that seemed a bit normal (although not much like Thanksgiving). I had chicken tikka masala (admittedly a non-South Indian dish) and a sweet lassi. Rice-based cuisines always bring me comfort. Although I am still waiting for that sweet potato pie (ahem, Jade!). And I am really missing the frantic shopping the day after Thanksgiving. Ah well...

Your Royal Highness will suffice

2006-11-22T22:23:00.000+01:00

Yesterday morning while waiting for class to start, the English girl in my class tells me:
I had a dream about you last night.
Moi: Really? What happened?
Elle: You were the queen, like the queen of everything in the world.
Moi: Oh wow.
Elle: Yeah except you were a wretched, awful queen. You treated all of the people badly and punished everyone.
Moi: Oh no! That is so terrible.
Elle: Yeah, it was strange. Because I was thinking she is nothing like that.

And right she is, I would treat my subjects with nothing but kindness.

how to get a boy to like you

2006-11-17T22:41:00.000+01:00

...in 2 easy steps
1. Find someone to tell the boy that you like him.
2. Do nothing and watch as he begins to like you.

Not that I have ever done this, it's just that it always seems to work on me.
Really though, is it just me or has this happened to anyone else? Your friend tells you that a friend of hers that you have recently met likes you. Yeah girl, my friend really likes you. He is a really sweet guy. You did not find this friend unusually appealing. Not that you think anything is wrong with him, you just didn't think anything of him. Your feelings were neutral. But after she tells you that he likes you, that starts to marinate in your mind and you find yourself thinking hmm... he likes me, okay. Well maybe I could like him too. She said he was really sweet. He did seem really nice and he likes me. As if the fact that he likes you must mean that something about him is great. He has excellent taste, so that's a good start. Here's where that crazy planning commences. He can take me out and we can do xyz. Yes that will work, and then... But then you actually see him and he doesn't overtly act as if he likes you. So you are wondering, wait a minute, I thought he liked me, what happened? He is supposed to like me! And perhaps by now you maybe sort of like him a little bit (it doesn't matter that this is only the second time that you have seen him because you have your mental image of him... and the 2 kids and the yearly vacations to the Seychelles, no wait! just kidding!)
Anyway maybe this only happens to super indecisive people with overly active imaginations. But I'm sure I can't be the only one.

a day filled with gifts

2006-11-13T22:53:00.000+01:00

I am finally in possession of the ever elusive carte de sejour. Yea! It only took 4 visits to the office at Cité Universitaire, tons of paperwork (which never seemed to be completed just right, hence the need for 4 separate trips), and a 1.5 months wait for a medical exam. The exam consisted of me following orders that were being yelled in my direction (in a very non-sterile environment). Standing on a scale. Covering one eye at a time and reading letters from far away and words from close up to test vision. Stripping naked from the waist up to have a chest x-ray. (By the way, I am now the proud owner of said x-ray, which I'm told will come in handy...) Inhaling and exhaling. Answering medical history questions. Forty minutes, a few tears, and 55 euros later the card was officially mine.

Tonight I went to the Daniel Swarovski Autumn/Winter collection Poetic Night show. The collection was gorgeous. The decor was beautifully done. Everything was very sparkly, notably the champagne (which may be why this post is a bit rambly and full of adjectives/adverbs with -ly endings). Best of all, I received a bag of take-home goodies! Yeeeessss!

and more gifts

2006-11-13T11:14:00.000+01:00

A pair of healthy non-smoking lungs.

These pictures definitely do not do the show much justice. Sorry. The lighting was dim and I'm not much of a photographer.

Or videographer, it seems.

..yawn..

2006-11-12T23:31:00.000+01:00

My weekend was maybe a bit less than exciting. Or if you prefer rather serene. Although some would flat out call it boring.

I had plans to go to Fountainebleu on Saturday, but unfortunately the weather prevented that trip. So I went to the movies instead and saw Prête-moi ta main, which was very funny, and it convinced me that I need to learn all the bad words (not to say them of course (so don't add me to the prayer list just yet...or at least not for this), but to be able to recognize them.) I returned home, ate dinner, and then watched OSS 117 (parody of James Bond, with a stereotypic french guy; also funny).

Today began with a late brunch*, followed by an old ass season 4 episode of ANTM and some studying. Fill in the blanks with some other activities equal in liveliness...

Other unrelated life news: Lately I find myself addicted to yogurt. I can't get enough. Greek yogurt with honey. Creamy yogurt with crème de marrons. Yogurt flavored with fruit. Between yesterday and today, I have consumed 5 containers of yogurt (not those little yoplait types either). I must have the healthiest vagina this side of the ~~Mississippi~~ Seine. Fact.

* Some may argue that a late brunch is nothing more than lunch. But I conserve the title brunch since it consisted of breakfast-type foods and it was the first meal of the day served in that I just woke up atmosphere.

where my heart used to be

2006-11-10T01:40:00.000+01:00

I guess that I never got over it the way that I thought, since it is bothering me again. This calls for reflection (not to be mistaken for obsessive over-analyzation.)

A long time ago, he called me heartless. Heartless.

Defined as: unfeeling; devoid of compassion or feeling; unkind; unsympathetic; harsh; cruel; pitiless.

(To be fair, he called me a lot of other things, but this particular word has stuck with me for whatever reason. That reason might be because maybe some part of me fears that he may have been right.)

Heartless?!? Me?! Seriously though, heartless?

But he's not the only one that has felt this way. I have been told that I can be standoffish. At times distant. Sometimes those who should, do not feel close to me. Is it just part of my character? Am I a private person? Or is that an excuse offered to avoid change?

None of the above.
I don't want to be a cold person. I am not heartless. And I definitely don't go out of my way to be mean to people. I care about the people in my life deeply. So what's going wrong? Apparently the problem must be that I don't show it in a way that is received well. I need to do something about that. Which means I have to make an effort to express my feelings and affection. Because I want my loved ones to know how much I care about and appreciate them. I need them to not only know it, but be able to feel it. This has really been tormenting me lately. (It's probably not helping that I keep listening to Ice Box by Omarion and wondering if that is how I am. Although that is not the same situation really. So I can safely assume no.)

Not to imply that I am in any way evil or that I would like to turn into a boy, but writing this made me think about the Care Bears movie. Remember at the end, when Dark Heart turns into a boy and changes from evil to good and he starts turning cartwheels?

Bottom line: Please be patient with me. I'm working on it. Why? Because really...I care! I care! I care!

I like pretty sparkly things.

2006-11-06T19:00:00.000+01:00

Diamonds.
Jewelry.
White teeth.
Lip gloss.
Christmas lights.

I spent the afternoon browsing through the many floors of le Printemps. I love Christmas time! There is something inexplicably comforting about cold weather and winter time in general. Although I love the energy of summer and all that comes with it and I dread having to trade the light casualness of summer and fall wear for the bulk of layered outfits and dry skin. Until winter time actually descends, I never remember how much I love it.

In other news, I must be shedding my signature clueless look for something more cosmopolitan, because people are always asking me for directions. And today, I actually had an answer (apart from Je ne sais pas. Desolée.). Say what?! You know what that means! There is hope for my sense of direction yet.

out of fear of sounding too emo

2006-11-05T19:48:00.000+01:00

I will keep this to a minimum.

This past week has been draining. I'm not even sure why.
I suppose I let my anxiety get the best of me.
But tomorrow is the start of a new week.

I'm not like this all the time.

2006-10-31T17:49:00.000+01:00

Today I have been angry.

Maybe because Halloween is not that big here, which made me miss home. Maybe because the sun wasn't shining, and the sky was dark and gray. Maybe my blood sugar was too low. I'm sure it was a combination of multiple factors, but the bottom line is that I was in a bad mood. I managed to find something wrong with everything that crossed my path today.

The metro was especially infuriating.
On my way to class I somehow ended up behind the slowest people ever. Three middle aged couples, holding hands and walking as slow as humanly possible in the middle of the walkway, disabling anyone, notably me, from passing. I felt like yelling out, "Can we walk a little bit faster here! Seriously people, you are in love, okay great. But you are not walking down the aisle, so pick up the pace!!!" Some of us have places to go. And they would not be extent of the slow moving people in my way today.

Later at another metro station, I saw 5-6 police officers questioning a man (which to me looked more like harassing). They made him empty the contents of his pockets onto the ground and from the look on his face it seemed like he had dealt with this treatment before. His wife stood near by waiting with a baby. It infuriated me! Particularly when I walked back by the spot where they were, maybe 5 minutes later, they had him against the wall with his pants pulled down. Seriously, his seafoam green brief underwear exposed for the passing world to view! That is just not right. I don't know what offense he committed and I won't claim to understand race relations in the legal system here, but that did not quell my rage.

On my ride home, I was wondering why do people feel the need to be so close to me. Why do they have to stand on top of me, trying to hold my hand on the pole. I need some space to breath. Back up! I decided that people must try to bump into me on purpose. This can be the only explanation, because the calculated probability that 82% of people that walk by me would bump into me accidentally is astronomical. And why was everyone shopping today? Don't people have jobs or at least something else to do!

Nothing fit right today. The waist in my jeans seemed looser than normal and as a result my pants were falling off my ass all day. In stores, clothing that looked great on display, took on a hideous appearance when paired with my body. A gorgeous navy blue coat made me look too much like a doll. And a simple black sweater screamed out that I was insecure and wearing a sweater that my grandmother had given me. (Thanks to Carin and Nisreen for the insight.)

The ATM refused to give me the amount of money I was requesting. I already explained to Wells Fargo that I am living here and to please stop denying my charges suspecting that they are fraudulent. Give me my money!

Even trivial things annoyed the hell out of me today. Like the water in my toilet bowl being blue preventing me from gauging how hydrated I am by the color of the water. Or the stupid mistake that I made on my test that brought my score down to 19.5 instead of 20. I couldn't find my nail clipper. I tried 3 different ways (the start menu, the shortcut on the desktop, the little icon in the toolbar) multiple times each to open iTunes on my computer this morning. None of which worked and I had to restart my computer. Everything frustrated me. I had no patience.

I returned home earlier than usual, looking forward to salvaging my day with a persimmon. (Oh the goodness that is a persimmon.) Only to remove the fruit from my bag and see that it had been squished by everyone bumping into me all day. Aaaarrrgh!!!!!!!!

Maybe everything really was going wrong for me today. Or maybe I'm becoming jaded in this city, where the concept of forming an orderly line is foreign, a person who smiles too much is considered naive, and even the traffic signals have attitude.

I ran and I ran, I was looking for me

2006-10-30T19:40:00.000+01:00

Lately I have found myself disheartened by how much I have yet to experience in life.
Yet to see, yet to taste, to touch, to feel.
Yet to accomplish, to discover, yet to become.

Sometimes I feel the need to do it all, be it all.
That need drives me, but in the same breath it overwhelms me. It is unreasonable, I know. Leela, life is a journey, my dad reminds me at every given opportunity.

Life is short and it offers so many options. I don't want to waste any opportunity or talent that I have been blessed with. But when I run, I miss so much along the way as life turns into a blur. And when I stop to contemplate the alternatives for too long, I waste time with indecision.

So for now I take my time, absorbing all that is around me. Every moment becomes significant. I gaze at my surroundings in awe. I savor all that I taste. I allow myself to be distracted by anything that catches my attention. I take in everything, as it sweeps me away or repulses me. My senses are heightened. My mind is open.

I spend my days and nights, making my way through this dream existence. I accept that life is a journey and I've slowed my pace. Walking attentively, one foot in front of the other.

life is beautiful

2006-10-29T11:44:00.000+01:00

Don't you hate it when real life starts to interfere with your blogging? Anyway, this was my weekend.

I have been congested so I decided to succumb to everyone's advice and try some nasal spray. Nasal sprays always make me nervous and until now I have never been able to actually spray the liquid into my nose. But I am happy to report that I feel like it is working.

Saturday I spent the whole afternoon and much of the evening at le Centre Pompidou (which I now honor as my absolute favorite museum of all time ever) with Carin. The best exhibit was the Fabrica: Les Yeux Ouvres. It is remarkable the way the exhibit approached current issues through creativity media. The beauty of the art contrasted with the often hideous reality (ie violence, world hunger, poverty, racism, political injustice etc) is brilliant. Maybe I'm a little too excited about this, but I enjoy contemporary art and the possibilities that it reveals. One of the best aspects of the exhibit was the COLORS magazine notebook project in which people around the world were presented with an opportunity to express themselves however they pleased in a blank notebook. This collection of notebooks was displayed for people to read. I was especially moved by a notebook written by people in Uganda whose lives were affected by a spouse dying from HIV/AIDS (and additionally frequently themselves or their children suffering from the disease). The stories were handwritten in raw, straightforward language and accompanied by headshot photographs. As I read the stories my tears flowed as candidly as the words - assuredly filled with grief but more importantly hope and fight to live.

(Yeah, okay. I was getting a bit too happy with photoshop.)

Carin and I went to Ladurée today and I had a raspberry and passion fruit tart which was heavenly. We went to Sephora also which was the worst decision, because EVERYONE was there, pushing (without saying excuse me) and spritzing perfume all over the place.

I will end with this sentence that I read on another blog in a comment and that commenter read it somewhere else, so I don't who to credit, but I'm feeling it. The only way we have to find a reference point is continuing to move.

Be careful! 220 V can kill.

2006-10-23T01:40:00.000+02:00

That's what my mom said to me after I told her about my first electricity incident. The night of my arrival, I was organizing my room and I decided that I wanted to plug in my iHome player. I used the US/EURO converter that I bought in San Francisco to plug it in. As soon as it was plugged in, the clock illuminated much brighter than usual, but everything seemed okay. Except that the plug was making a strange sparking, popping type sound. I thought maybe something isn't right, but before I could do anything, the current blew out. The plug was smoking and that outlet along with 2 others on the same wall were no longer working. OMG, seriously Leela, do you have tear up the house on your first day!? Couldn't you have at least waited a week, or even a whole day? Damn. Not to mention that I now had to buy a new AC cord for my iHome player.

Following too closely was the second incident. I brought along a US surge protector outlet strip on the premise that instead of buying a bunch of converters, I could just use 1 converter to plug the strip into the wall outlet and then plug all of my US plugs into the matching outlets of the US strip. Seems like a good idea, right? Well I thought so too. Until I went to plug it in and it blew out the electricity again! A single pop and the whole house went dark! God help me! What's really going on?! I was totally shaken up and nervous. I was trying to explain what happened while they were trying to restore the electricity. I felt rush-of-anxiety terrible. This was when my fear of plugging things in fully materialized. The electricity was quickly repaired and Monsieur plugged my power strip in and unplugged it to test it and it worked fine for him. Still I was too afraid to try again. 1 week passed and I really needed to plug my stuff in. The battery in my toothbrush and camera were completely dead. Plus I really needed to do something with my hair. Tomorrow I will try it. I kept postponing it to tomorrow. I finally built up some courage. Just plug it in. Remember when Monsieur did it, it was fine. It will be fine. I kept reminding myself in hopes that I would believe it. I held my breath and slowly plugged in my power strip. No popping. No smoke. Yea! Everything was working pretty well. Granted my blow dryer was blowing extra hot and the charging base for my toothbrush was generating quite a bit of excess heat. But it was working! That was the important part, right? I had to be extremely careful with everything I plugged in though. The heater for my wax was so hot I had to unplug it after only 4 minutes. It was smoking and smelled like it was on fire. And after plugging in my flatiron for approximately 1.5 minutes, it was too hot to even use on my hair, if I still wanted to have any left. So I learned to be very attentive. I ironed my clothes on the lowest setting. I turned off the power strip whenever I left and unplugged everything that wasn't in use.

The third incident (which I fervently pray is the last), was when I plugged in my flatiron for the second time. I unplugged it after maybe 45 seconds because I sensed that it was getting too hot. I picked it up and it had left burn marks on the towel it had been resting on. Then the ceramic plates fell off! Seriously fell off! My Farouk Chi ceramic flatiron!!! It had gotten so hot that parts had melted and the plates came off. I love that flatiron and now I don't know what to do. I am soooo distraught. There must be some way to salvage it! Super glue? Something? Oh why the flatiron? I guess the bigger issue here is that I need to get a transformer to enable my appliances to work properly. But really, what am I supposed to do without my flatiron? Sad times.

Note: For all of your smarty-pant, observant people thinking, wait a minute, I thought France uses 230 V? Yes, you are right.

Americans have more fun! (an experiment)

2006-10-22T13:47:00.000+02:00

Hypothesis: Drinking wine improves my French comprehension and expression.

Variables:
The amount of wine that I consume
The amount of wine that the others consume
The duration of time during which the wine is consumed
The effect that consuming the wine has on the accuracy of my perceptions

Methods and materials:
1. Attend a dinner party with:
3 boys whose uniting language is Japanese (Mr U, Mr K, and Mr 5)
3 girls whose uniting language is English (Mlle S, Mlle C, and moi)
2. Be served plenty of wine and food.
3. Record observations and conversations.

Results:
Moi: But I really am shy! (I insisted while starting my x glass of wine.)
Mlle C and Mr K: You are NOT shy! We do not believe you.
Mr K: Americans talk a lot.
Moi: We talk a lot because we like to have fun and we enjoy parties where everyone is laughing and having a good time (or at least I do).
I still stick with my assertion that I am shy. Really, I am! I'm not usually quiet once you get to know me, but initially I am shy. Definitely wasn't convincing anyone of that yesterday.

Moi: Don't laugh at my French!
Mlle C: He's not laughing at your French, he's laughing at you.
Moi: Oh! I see.
Mr K mocked both my French and English. Specifically my voice, which never ceased to amuse him. Apparently, making fun of me is an activity enjoyed by people of all cultures. Hmmph!

Mr K: I love MAC.
Mlle C and moi: I love MAC too!

Moi: I love Madonna.
Mlle C: Me too!
Moi: Do you like Madonna?
Mr K: I ADORE Madonna.
Who would've known that MAC and Madonna are capable of surpassing all language/cultural barriers? (Is it any coincidence that both are American? I think not. ;))

Wow, why is a random guy in the metro dominating the pic?

Conclusion: The more wine I consumed the better my French became. Mr K even noted that the more wine he consumed, the better he was able to understand my French. Point 1 for team Leela! (I think...) Mlle S served as a control since she doesn't drink alcohol. As a result, she remained confused during most of the conversations (including the English, so I'm not really sure what was going on with her). The results of this preliminary experiment are consistent with my hypothesis, however I cannot rule out the possibility that perhaps the variables skewed the results. Thus more experiments are necessary before I can confirm my hypothesis.

WTF: Leela ate sushi!? Yeeeaaah booooy! Vegetarian sushi!!

I heart my mimosa.

2006-10-20T20:20:00.000+02:00

No, not the drink.*
The plant. Better known (to me, at least) as touch-me-not. For those of you who may not be familiar with this plant, it has sensitive leaves which fold together when you touch them. The leaves also close at night and reopen in the morning.

This plant grows plentifully in Kerala in south India and it has been my favorite since childhood, because I love to touch the leaves and watch them close. (Obviously, I am easily amused.) So when I saw it for sale at a local exotic plant store, I decided to buy it. I was a bit nervous about its chances for survival considering the lack of sunlight here (and the 15 € price tag). But it is doing well thus far. So we shall see.

An afterthought: It is Friday evening and I am blogging about a plant.*

* unfortunately

O' sailor, why'd you do it (so not a political rant)

2006-10-19T20:04:00.000+02:00

2 nights ago I dreamt that I was being pursued by some scary-looking authorities of some sort. The details are a bit convoluted when reviewed in the daylight, but I recall being in a large room at a seminar type gathering, when 2-4 of these uniformed authorities removed me to question me about what seemed like a financial extortion matter. I'm not too sure about the story line. I am sure that this dream subject was spawned from President Bush's recent signing of new legislation allowing "more vigorous" interrogation of suspected terrorists. (story here)
Between the Bush administration and the war in Iraq, people don't need more reasons to be mad at the US. Can't we all just get along?

It goes without saying that many people (of all nationalities) have some disdain for the US' current leadership and policies (myself included). I love the United States with all its imperfections. I mean, it is where a lot of my family and most things that I hold dear reside. It is where I have spent the majority of my life. It is my home. Still there are things about the US that make me ashamed, angry, and disappointed; there are even more things that bring me joy. The beauty of the US is found in the freedom to agree or disagree and express these feelings to anyone who will listen. Still looking from the outside in, I see why many groups dislike American culture. Oui, je suis américaine, but wait, because I don't end there... Not all of us fit the ugly - self-centered - disrespectful - overindulgent - wasteful - loud - garrulous - know-it-all - arrogant American stereotypic mold. There is so much to miss if one is guided by preconceptions, so I try not to approach situations on the defense expecting to be hated. And when I stop to think about it, I realize that the vast majority of people have greeted me with nothing but kindness, acceptance, and maybe sometimes a bit of curiosity (all of which arguably may have nothing at all to do with my nationality). But when someone meets me and finds out that I am American and their immediate question is "Are you republican?" or "Did you vote for Bush?" I will answer amicably (and yes, this has happened), because I hope that they will take the time to get to know me for all the things that I am.

Really though, how can they not love me? I'm so darn cute.

if you're happy and you know it

2006-10-18T17:24:00.000+02:00

Let me post an update before you people start with the death threats.

I see possibilities.
I see beginnings. I see endings.
It is what's in between that eludes my grasp.

Surprisingly, I am okay with that. In fact, better than okay. Way better.
I am not consumed by anxiety resulting from the uncertainties of my life. Instead, I find myself in love with the power that change commands. I am giving personal meaning to the affirmation "You can be anything you want to be."

Now I'm ready for whatever’s meant to be...
~ Sway

Where is the love?

2006-10-15T02:04:00.000+02:00

Ya'll ain't right.

And you know who you are. So don't even sit there all smug looking around the room, thinking 'who me?' Because you know I am talking about you.
So maybe I have a reputation of being a bit, let's say distracted or maybe even dazed. So what? "Just cause I'm blind, don't mean I'm dumb." Not that I'm blind, but you get my drift. That Dave Chappelle is too funny. "It might be doo doo!"
Anyway, back to my point, I'm not stupid. I too can read between the lines and notice patterns. I can put 1 and 1 together to create 2. So let's explore my findings together.
Why are all the comments to me always along these lines:
Leela, you are (mos def / indeed) special.
You are (such a hot / a very hot / the hottest) mess.
You have issues (and/or problems).
TIme to refill the meds Leela. (Okay yeah, I made that one up, but I'm sure someone was thinking it.)
Leela, have you been drinking AGAIN?
Must I continue...
I mean even the comments that I leave on other blogs solicit these same types of comments in return.
Oh! And another thing, why am I always on the bottom of all the friends' blogs links lists? Miss Jackson and Mr. Gbajabiamila. Alphabetical my ass. This is supposed to be a blogging circle of love.
Just for the record, I am NOT always confused, as some would like to believe.
And yes, I have been drinking. Champagne bitches.

It might be doo doo!

2006-10-12T23:53:00.000+02:00

Last night I dreamt (among other things) that I walked into my bathroom and saw unflushed poop in the toilet. Simply a still image: toilet + poop. No surrounding action.
I woke up this morning, turned on my computer, went to the bathroom and there it was. Weird.
(Note for clarification: The girls stay the night on Wednesdays and share the bathroom with me. So I’m assuming that one of them must have forgotten to flush.)
Naturally, I wondered if this was an implication for the atmosphere of the rest of my day.

First day of class and I was untroubled by the expected anxieties. Will the other kids like me? What if I don’t know any of the answers? Oh what to wear? Distress that seemed so juvenile. So far away.

And rightfully so, because today was far from crappy.
My accomplishments of the day:
- went to class (on time without getting lost)
- understood the teacher and the material
- participated in class
- socialized with my classmates
- bought the books for class
- went to Starbucks
- telephoned my mother
- carried myself with newfound confidence and a familiar smile

Dream interpreted: When someone leaves sh*t in your toilet, flush it. Move on.

off of your melody

2006-10-10T10:09:00.000+02:00

Yes, it is public knowledge that your girl is quite enamored with Mr. Justin Timberlake. Okay maybe it is a bit beyond that. Anyway, I absolutely love his new CD. I even bought the actual CD from the store. I went to 3 stores that were sold out before finally purchasing it from Fry’s in San Francisco. (You know how serious this is, because I never actually buy CDs. But for Justin, I went legit.) His voice has me stalking internet sites trying to find out upcoming concert tour dates. Because you know when Justin comes to Paris, I have to be there. I mean it would rude of me to not be there, seeing as how I was his muse and all.

I know you see it…
{scene: hovering near the bar in the club around 1:23 AM, swirling a straw inside a half-full glass of vodka cranberry talking with 3 girlfriends, while Nicole sings “Come to me, I can be, what you need”, she feels someone watching her}

(glances over her shoulder, her eyes dart around the room landing on Justin, she does a double take panning her eyes up and down his frame, then returns to conversation with friends)

I know you see me looking, girl go on and act right
A little closer, let me see you in the spotlight

(rolls eyes with a barely audible chuckle and allows Justin to pull her aside to whisper in her ear)

Now turn around and let me see just what ya curved like

(smiles as he proceeds to take her hand, lifting her arm in the air as she does a twirl)

Go grab your friends and y'all can come to the back, oh-oh

(beckons to girlfriends and follows as Justin leads her by the hand)

Why don't you take a sip upon this champagne

(accepts glass of champagne) Thank you. (clinks glass with friends before taking a sip)

Relax, take your coat off, and let me get your name

(leans back on sofa, crosses legs, runs tongue across lips) My name is Leela.

I love that hour-glass shape you got upon that frame

What is it to you? (she whispers in his ear suggestively)

I like the way you talk your game we might be one in the same

(smiles coyly) Maybe you’re right. (takes another sip)

Now I know you got a buzz off that alcohol

(smiles with glass to lips)

I got a house that can entertain all of y'all

(shrugs at girlfriends) We’ll see.

Maybe later on I'll give you a phone call
I'm 'bout to slide out, but I'll get back at ya, oh-oh

(applies lip gloss while feigning disinterest)

And when I call don't give me the run-around
I ain't gonna have you tryin' to play me like a silly clown

Don’t worry, that’s not my style. Like I said, we’ll see.

Don't second guess it, girl
There ain't nothin' to think about
'Cause you got me feigning, but girl you don't hear me
Little lady...

Oh Justin, I’m listening.

better than a stick in the eye

2006-10-09T13:19:00.000+02:00

I have renewed my distaste for coughing, which has been my longstanding #1 most-hated bodily function. That is until my trip to India this summer, where it was downgraded to the #2 position, for reasons I am certain you have no desire to imagine. Anyway, coughing is back in the #1 spot, because it really is the worst.

That overwhelming urge to cough takes hold of my throat and it does not matter how hard I try, because I cannot control it and I feel helpless. I am never able to estimate whether it will result in a single cough or the dreaded coughing fit. Continually coughing makes my throat feel very dry and sore, which results in more coughing and increased pain. Still I have no choice except to cough until my body has had enough.

Coughing is so disruptive and it always commences at the wrong moments (although there really are no right moments, maybe just less wrong) –
during exams in an otherwise quiet room,
dinner conversations (where I was forced to excuse myself yesterday multiple times),
and peaceful sleep (thankfully, that was not the case last night since before bed I drank herbal tea with honey and un peu de rhum, which put me right to sleep).

Especially loathed is the dry cough, because it seems entirely useless. (I accept that it is removing irritants from my air passages, but that does not lend it more credence in my book.) At least with a productive cough, I feel like my body is expelling phlegm and helping me regain health. But that stupid barking cough carries the sound of extreme sickness. You know that you make a special effort to avoid people who sound like they are hacking up a lung. I know I do.

Coughing spreads a lot of germs. To minimize this I cough into the crevice of my elbow, which is still sort of coughing into the air. But it is better than coughing into your hands or even worse into the free air. Still I hate feeling like I am contaminating everything that I come in contact with.

So yes, I would rather be afflicted with a runny nose, headache, or even (gasp) loose motions. I hate coughing that much.
Thank goodness for cough suppressants.

day 8

2006-10-08T16:20:00.000+02:00

For the past couple of days, I have been feeling a bit out of sorts. Which may be in part due to the sore throat/congestion/coughing illness that I have been struggling to defeat (and/or the meds). But nonetheless, I have been feeling like:
I am so far away from everything,
I am running from who knows what,
I am searching for something that I can't name.
Although I cannot see the master plan, I am reveling in this crazy existence and allowing it to mold me.

Thank you Ms. Fiona Apple.

I am likely to miss the main event
If I stop to cry or complain again
So I will keep a deliberate pace
Let the damned breeze dry my face

Oh, mister, wait until you see
What I'm gonna be

I've got a plan, a demand and it just began
And if you're right, you'll agree

Here's coming a better version of me
Here it comes a better version of me

Bonne Anniversaire

2006-10-05T23:11:00.000+02:00

I guess that since it is my birthday and all, I am expected to post something fabulous about myself or how I have grown over the past year or something else equally insightful.
Hmm…
Will you settle for what I ate for dinner?
Okay. Well, Madame and I ate at le restaurant Georges in the Centre Pompidou, where we had the most dazzling view overlooking Paris at night. The ambiance was very modern and exclusive. Equalling in appeal was the presentation of the food. I had the tomate mozzarella, which consisted of tomatoes with mozzarella cheese, garnished with basil, olive oil, and balsamic vinegar. Then for dessert I had the cheese cake with fromage blanc sorbet. You know how I adore desserts and this one was delicious.
So happy birthday to me and to the start of an extraordinary new year!

What's in a name?

2006-10-02T23:13:00.001+02:00

So here I am, not even for 24 hours yet and suddenly I am plagued by feelings of loneliness. To be expected? Of course.

But it is not a logical longing, where I am able to articulate what I am missing. (For instance, today I really miss Omar and his singing...) No this is quite different and much deeper. It is an intense feeling of desolation. I have no idea what triggered this emotional upheaval. What I do know is that I need to do something about it. Fast.

Feeling restless and completely alone in the world, I proceed to wander around the city. But being surrounded by all of the movement of Paris does not alleviate my loneliness or my agitated mind.
I pray: please Lord, take this feeling away from me. Help me find comfort and inner strength.
I continue walking, still hoping and praying that the real world will distract me from the commotion in my head. But the more I walk, the more I feel like I don’t belong.
God, I put my faith in you. Do not let me feel so alone.

Shortly thereafter, a boy approaches me and before I know it, he is escorting me around, pointing out landmarks and showing me fancy shops. His behavior is a bit peculiar and then it hits me, he is drunk.
You sent me a lush.
Ah well. At this point, I welcome any kind of outside interaction. Besides, I am starting to get rid of some of the nonsense that has replaced the reason in my thoughts.
Thank you God.
I am feeling better. Up until the point where he starts singing about needing to go to the toilet, which turns into him urinating in the street. I try to walk away inconspicuously in hopes of not being associated with this drunken boy. However, my escape plan is foiled as he catches up with me momentarily and says:
Wait. I forgot to ask you something. What is your name?
Leela.
Oh, I like that name. My name is Philippe.
I chuckle to myself and glance toward the sky with a smile.
You got jokes.

an open letter

2006-09-28T09:17:00.001+02:00

Inspired by the numerous open letters of my fellow bloggers, I chose to follow in their spirit of indirect candor.

To the detached-looking outdoor residents of San Francisco:

Excuse me. What are you on? Are you high? Faded? Fucked up? Or whatever the term of actualization may be for your particular substance of choice. Because the way you are walking/talking/behaving is completely unstable and leads me to assume that you did not Just Say No.

And what is that smell? It is like a potpourri of all kinds of body odors, in which the undertones of stale urine and underarm sweatiness are always clearly discernable. *gag* Let's leave that alone.

Despite what it may sound, my intention is not to judge you. I am merely trying to gain a better understanding of your mind set so that when you speak to me I know how to respond appropriately. Since you insist on talking to me. Help me help you.

How should I respond to:
- Ya’ll don’t have to kill me, because I’m going to kill myself.
- Don’t act like you don’t hear it. I know you hear it. You can’t ignore it. (It = the voices in YOUR head? Because, no I don’t hear it.)
- I see your blue underwear. (So what, okay! The waist in my pants is a little big. You don’t have to announce it for the world. *sniff*)
- Do you want a dollar? Just smoke it, man. (Wait, you are offering me money?)
Because my first reaction is going to be to quicken the pace of my walk while reciting a couple Our Fathers and a quick Hail Mary.

I mean, what happened to the normal ramblings of the people on the streets of Chicago and Denver.
- Can you spare some change?
- Hey sexy.
- Do you know that Jesus died for you?
I am accustomed to these remarks. I know how to handle them.

Then I realized that whether I acknowledge you or not, you keep talking. And the more you talk, the less I understand. Wait, why are you following me down the street? Hail Mary, full of grace...

In conclusion, do not mistake my silence for arrogance. Or confuse my unwillingness to look you in the eyes with ego. I ignore you not because I am stuck up or pompous.
Truth is I’m scared.

If you say, "I'm always yours"

2006-09-26T00:10:00.000+02:00

Girls and boys. Today is National One-Hit Wonder Day. Really, I'm not making this up. In celebration of this observance, I have decided to post the music video of my all-time favorite one-hit wonder song, which happens to be none other than Barbie Girl by Aqua.

Make me walk, make me talk, do whatever you please
I can act like a star, I can....

Z's & G's

2006-09-24T20:54:00.000+02:00

It's a gorgeous Saturday afternoon. The sun is shining in all it glory. You are driving down the highway peacefully singing along with Justin. Dirty babe... Wait, you are distracted by what you see. 1, 2, 3...more than 30 of the mostly the same type of car speed by you on the opposite side of the road.
What the hell is going on?
It's a car run.
A what?
Let me explain. So, there are car clubs for people in the Bay Area who drive Nissan 350Z's or Infiniti G35's. They meet up and drive to different places together to hang out, talk, and admire each others cars. This particular run happens to be to Monterey.
These people have too much time on their hands.
You are probably right.

As I sit in the passenger seat of Jameel's G35 watching the world through my window, I pray for my safety.

By far the best part of the trip was when I got a chance to visit my favorite squirrels in Pebble Beach. They are incredibly friendly and will not hesitate to come right up to you. Because although there is a clearly posted sign instructing visitors not feed the animals, it is quite obvious that it goes mainly ignored.

Her milkshake brings all the boys to the yard

2006-09-21T21:08:00.000+02:00

In case you were wondering

2006-09-20T04:07:00.000+02:00

1. I LOVE peanut butter m&m's. Is that enough to explain why I have single handedly eaten 3 of the Halloween edition bags of these candies since I have returned to the States? It surely does not explain why I have eaten a whole bag today and nothing else. In my defense, that melt in your goodness bekons to me without remorse. Chocolate and peanut butter, each ingredient a stand alone taste delight, are even better when paired together. Yum.

2. She's a big one. A mighty big one. Ahhh! That song has been controlling my thoughts for days now. I know that it is completely inappropriate to sing in pulic, but try as I might I cannot seem to control it. Those lyrics dance around in my head and then flow from my mouth at all the wrong times. Thanks a lot Jade! And let's not forget to thank Flavor Flav for creating this ingenious combination of harmonious words. What can I say about Flavor of Love? I despise the ignorance that show portrays. Yet I am drawn to watch it, like watching a car crash with womens' dignity and worth going down in flames. Ring the alarm. Is this what American culture has come to? Flavor Flav has some serious nerve talking about anyone, specifically Like Dat, like that anyway, because he is no prize (and that is me being nice...oh hell, why start now. He looks like a burnt shriveled up raisin. And he behaves like a dirty old man. Bottom line: he disgusts me.) What is wrong with these people? She's a big one. A mighty big one. Look at how this is junk is influencing me. What is wrong with me!

3. Forever 21 is a great place to shop if you are in the mood to really look through their merchandise. Their stores are always organized so haphazardly. I suppose that they are going for that chaotic feel, because every Forever 21 store I have ever been in has been like that. It can be frustrating if you do not have the patience and/or time to sort through everything. Yesterday I was in the mood and I ended up finding some cute stuff with Jade's help.

4. The exfoliator Modern Friction from Origins is fabulous. It really works well to improve the texture and tone of my skin, preserving my sexy. Definitely worth the money. Note: Avoid the eye area. The sales woman wasn't playing, it really burns!

Happy Birthday!

2006-09-18T19:14:00.001+02:00

girls, food, style (?)...what else could one wish for.

(no comment)

2006-09-13T21:12:00.000+02:00

Lately I've been feeling like a complete waste of space.
But I guess things could be worse.

A sign that Colorado may want to make their GED requirements a bit more stringent:

{scene: chatting with an old friend on a warm summer evening, mid August, sitting outside my home in Grand Junction}

moi: Well, I will be leaving early next month for Paris.
old friend: Oh, cool. You know, I still haven't been on a plane yet.
moi (with a look of feigned disbelief): Really? Wow.
old friend: Yeah, but maybe I will come over to visit you in Spain.
moi: Ummm...right. (pause) Paris is in France.

I'm moody.

2006-09-09T22:40:00.000+02:00

I cried this afternoon.
I laid with my face in a pillow and I cried.

I cried tears of despair.
Desiring to relive mistakes of the past.
Wishing that I was not constantly haunted by the ghosts of lost memories.
I accept what is done and over with. I accept what is out of my control. Let go already.

I cried tears of anxiety.
Afraid of the unknown and the uncontrollable.
Paralyzed by fear of failure.
It is time for me to stop questioning my worth.
I am powerful and capable of accomplishing all that I set out to do.

I cried tears of joy.
I put my faith in God.
No point on dwelling on long gone events of the past.
Or being apprehensive about what has yet to happen.
Because right now, in this moment, everything is perfect.

Head in the Clouds

2006-09-04T08:21:00.000+02:00

Am I slow? Or do I prefer to dwell in denial?
Why did it take me so long to realize that I was leaving...

Leaving everything familiar and comfortable to me. Leaving the world I know behind in hopes of creating a better me. Why don't I feel the gravity of this situation? I don't know.

I see what is going on around me, but I feel s e p a r a t e d from it all. Nevertheless I go along with the motions. I fold clothes to pack into my suitcases and organize the books I want to take along. I attempt to gauge exactly what I will need to sustain myself for the following 9 months. I'm leaving. I think it, but I don't exactly feel it the way I would hope.

I have been expecting this move for months, why doesn't it seem real to me anymore? Is it resistance to change? No. I mean, I'm moving to find the new cheese. Waiting for the feeling, I continue going along with the motions. It will come to me in time. I reassure myself. This is normal...right? Upon arriving in Toronto, my dad and I fill out cards making our departure from the US official. No, not yet.

Sleep. Eat. Watch Nacho Libre. Sleep. Sitting on the plane on the final leg of the flight feeling like I'm going on "just another trip", I give up on feeling anything more. Stop over thinking it. Live it. I'm gazing out the window just as the plane touches down on the runway at Charles de Gaulle airport; the French guy seated behind me yells out "Paris!" and it finally hits me.

Contemplation often makes life miserable. We should act more, think less, and stop watching ourselves live.
~ Chamfort

Season of Change

2006-09-01T03:16:00.000+02:00

The end of summer vacation consistently brings change.
Back to school. Moving. New clothes.
Old friends. New friends. Exchanging of summer memories.
The carefree ease of long summer days is replaced with structure and schedule.
But never without the promises of renewal and growth.
So as I wave goodbye to summer, I embrace the changes that are coming my way.

Continuity gives us roots; change gives us branches, letting us stretch and grow and reach new heights.
~ Pauline R. Kezer

Wonders of the World Wide Web

2006-08-30T06:16:00.000+02:00

Oh, how I love the internet.
'Will you be online later?' Yeah, you bet.

Information and entertainment at my fingertips.
Chatting, blogs, music, funny video clips.

Ebay, Blogger, YouTube, and shopping galore,
So little time, so many sites to explore.

Amazon, iTunes, Craig's List, The Sims 2!
Google Earth. Sit back and enjoy the view.

Airline tickets, song lyrics, the latest fashion trend.
The possibilities of the internet extend without end.

The capital of Maine, how to make a killer omelette,
All things I've learned via the internet.

Celebrity gossip, world news, why cats meow...
Huh? Why? What time is it now?

Day and night. Night and day.
Day and night. I can't walk away.

Oh, how I love the internet.
No, Dad. I'm not hungry just yet.

Okay, okay. I'll be down in a sec.
I'm looking at pics of this crazy car wreck...

I turn off the computer. The images fade away.
Wait a minute. It's already Thursday?

Oh man, I need to download that song and bid on those shoes.
No! It's not a problem. I can stop whenever I choose!

conversations with Omar

2006-08-29T04:36:00.000+02:00

Our siblings push buttons that cast us in roles we felt sure we had let go of long ago - the baby, the peacekeeper, the caretaker, the avoider.... It doesn't seem to matter how much time has elapsed or how far we've traveled.
~Jane Mersky Leder

My brother. Omar. Lil Omeo. My favorite person (although he has ensured me that the feeling is not mutual.)
I love his sense of humor and his dedication to success in every endeavor he pursues.
Although I fail to grasp his obsession with the c-walk, The Nutty Professor, and The Facebook.

*****

{scene: walking through Walmart in the hair product aisle (yes, I detest Walmart and avoid it all costs), shopping for last minute necessities the day before we left for India}

Omar: Hey, let's get some of that scurl.
me (perplexed look on face): Scurl?
Omar (pointing to a product on a nearby shelf): Yeah, scurl.
me: Umm. Yeah. That's "S" Curl.

*****

{Omar relayed this story to me one evening last week after arriving at home.}

Omar: This lady flipped me off today.
me: Why? What happened?
Omar: I was headed to the office to mail out a package. And I was in a hurry because UPS picks up at 5 PM on Friday. So I was switching from the left lane into the right lane. I turned on my blinker, but the lady wasn't letting me in, so I sped up and got in front of her. She laid on the horn and flipped me off.
me: That's rude.
Omar: I got so angry and I was going to follow her.
me: What?!
Omar: Well, I just wanted to follow her and make her think that I was going to kill her. I wanted to scare her. I would've done it if I had the time. But I was in a hurry.
me (shakes head in disgrace): Good to know that you have your priorities in order.

This clip proves what I've been saying all along. Ending an ongoing 7 year battle, from which I emerge victoriously. I told you that song was from the Care Bears! Do you like me? Do you love me? Same difference! You did not make it up. :)