Fitting in

I'm so not fitting into the academic scenario, that its not weird, worrisome anymore. So, I have just 2 classes per day. Yeah. 1 hour and a good 45 mins later, they leave us with more questions than ever before. Of course, you'd think that its good if you're from that school of thinking. I'm not. I like answers. I like answers to my questions, at least once a week. Its not too much to ask that we don't go home with another 100 questions and more readings to do, in search of the elusive answer. No. Stop right there and don't tell me there is no one answer. You should not even be reading this blog!

That said, I'm really trying hard to change. I've never been the academic sort. If you see the kind of stuff that my friends/cousins do, I'm in august company. So, this whole Masters' thing which was taken up with much reluctance is finally here. I showed enough excitement before the course and I'm sufficiently enthusiastic enough to still do my readings everyday. Okay, I admit, only the first week of classes just got over. So, since I have just 2 classes - one in the morning and one in the evening, I technically have nothing to do the whole day. I take that back. There is enough reading for me to keep me occupied every minute of this break. So, my plan to escape the Syracuse heat (or cold, like some people WILL point out) is to sit in the library. And unfortunately, this is not my kinda library.

My kinda library doesn't have academic books. My kinda library doesn't have geeks sitting with their Macs (I'm tired of Mac fan-dom, so, let's shut it) and looking at code or Asian kids sitting and studying like their life depends on it.

Anyway, since I can't even dream of my kinda library in the next one year, let's see what I can do with this. I've never had a good relationship with university libraries. When I did my Masters in Hyderabad, I was the last person to go to the CIEFL library. Sometimes, I'd go, pick up books, never read them and then dutifully return the books a week later. I'm very prompt that way. No late fees for me. However, EVERY single time that I've been to that library, a mishap has occurred. The first time I went, the librarian was taking us on a library tour. As enthusiastic as I can get over nothing, I didn't see where I was going. So, there was this location where there were a couple of steps (2 or 3) and a ramp for disabled people. The librarian took the steps, and I should have, too. I didn't realize. In the magic of books around me, I walked like I was floating and I found myself on the ramp and since we were 'coming down,' it only meant that I slipped and fell on my ass in front of the whole wide world.

Then, the second time I went, I decided to live my fantasy of climbing on one of those ladders and taking out the books from the top shelf. Yes, you're quite smart. I lost balance and I very smartly held on to the book shelf(-ves) rather than just falling down with the ladder. Holding onto bookshelves meant that not only do I fall, but I also make a carefully arranged set of books (over 200?) fall with me, and possibly on me.

Then, one time, I was leaning over the open encyclopaedia and the dictonaries on a big table and I'm not kidding, I fell over with my legs dangling in the air. After this episode which turned out to be rather embarrassing, I decided not to visit the library in future. And I didn't. Until now, that is.

So, my rather efficient, treating-myself-like-a-robot-plan was to hit the gym ( so I could take a shower, actually - shower stories in another blogpost), get to the 9 AM class with a wacky, cute, funny, frustrating but brilliant self-professed devil of a professor. After some severe brain activity and constant defence of my self esteem without violence, I head to the library, check mail, Facebook etc, etc and get to studying. Studying Media law which is really interesting now that I'm in Syracuse. This routine hasn't really worked out since I've been going home for some reason or the other before the evening class.

However, as I type this today, I'm at the library celebrating my sticking to the routine by posting on this blog! I came here at 11 AM and chatted with AB and a couple of other friends and then decided to study. This is when it happened, I guess. Because 3 hours later, I'm wiping drool off the Media Law book and wondering when exactly I went off to sleep.

3 hours in the library and I don't have one page down. Yet. I hope the rest of the year in the library doesn't involve naps. Its just way too comforting now that I've figured how to sleep sitting down.

News

I just wanted to let the few blog readers who are not on my Facebook :P or Gtalk know that I'm moving to Syracuse for a year to do my Masters in Media Management at Syracuse University.

Can you see that I'm trying to suppress my jubiliant yells? :D

Thanks. Really. Thanks for everything.

Is being smart the new 'sexy?'

A couple of weeks ago, the wolf-boy and I discussed a couple of articles that he pointed me towards. That boy, coupled with his fanfare for gorgeous women (read Sonam Kapoor and Tina Fey) has some amazing links to share for a bygone reader like me. You can read those articles here and here

In gist, very crudely put, smart women can't be sexy. At least in mainstream media. Coincidentally, that night, we went out to watch the Tina Fey starrer 'Date Night.' Thanks to extremely low expectations from us, we thought the movie was pretty good (in spite of bad reviews) In this movie, her character is of a bored suburban mom/wife who has a regular job. She looks the way she is portrayed in most of her TV shows - specs, formal wear and of course, harried thanks to motherhood (Very discouraging for the rest of us, possible future mothers) The one day, she decides to look sexy and look attractive (brains are never considered attractive for women on the first impression), things go awry. And of course, its fun stuff from there.

I'm quite used to this. A hot woman is always a bimbo. A hot woman who is intelligent ( say, secret agent) is only that because they need to show equal opportunity or something. How many of us talk of Lara Croft's physical power or her intelligence v/s her awesome body? Of course, its not our fault. That is what the film-makers want to project anyway, right?

This is not a feminist debate, really. When I saw Roman Polanski's The Ghost Writer, all these thoughts came back to me. I haven't watched any other Polanski movie to comment and compare on his film-making style. Its a different thing that I couldn't have done it even if I had seen any of his movies earlier :)

That said, this movie was a treat to watch. I'm quite tired of 'action' movies, alien movies, sci-fi ( I *hate* them) and random chick-flicks. I need to be engrossed, like most of you would like, am assuming. The Ghost Writer did just that. It wasn't entirely brain numbing as some other 'intelligent' movies, but it did make me focus on the movie in hand than about how I relate to the movie. Until now, that is. The mystery in the movie was so engrossing that I didn't realize the nuances of characterisation in this movie.

The wife of the British Prime Minister played by Olivia Williams is shown to be a smart politician, student activist, someone who understands the dirty world of politics and what not. And how does she look, you ask? Certainly nothing compared to Kim Cattrall who plays the Secretary to the Prime Minister and possibly his mistress too. Now, how cliched can we get with the idea of a sexy secretary? And of course, only women who don't get to have any other career become secretaries no?

The character played by Olivia Williams is always having a fight with her suave Prime Minister husband. She hates the secretary. You knew that, didn't you? She ends up being a person who 'needs' sex, so has it with the writer who comes in to write the PM's memoirs. At the surface level, the fights between the PM and the wife seem like marital disputes, the likes of less attention being given, of not listening to the wife - you know, the usual. The wife gives a suggestion to help him gain mileage in tough times, and he disregards them and she is upset. Isn't that what happens in everyone's lives?

But when I think about it now, a week after the movie. I'm thinking, maybe she was way smarter than him (which is true in the movie, anyway) that he can't keep up with her thought process and her quick decisions. He needs a posse of lawyers and advisors to keep things moving. In the movie, it is shown that it is due to her intelligence that he grows from an ordinary student activist to being the PM and it is thanks to herself that she is highly regarded. So, I wonder, was her intelligence also the cause of her downfall as a 'wife' or as a 'woman?'

In fact, from a personal experience of a friend who was recently considered attractive (in not so many words), a group of us sent emails to each other and spoke about it. Now, I wonder what was so surprising about her being attractive? Why? Because she is considered one of the boys and therefore, smart and sensible and not a 'pain' like other women? :) Or, is it something else?

Can't smart women be sassy and sexy? I know there are umpteen examples to prove this cliche wrong. However, writing this post, I wondered how I'd end it. As you can see, I'm quite scattered :)

Does that make me attractive? Because you can laugh, pat on my back fondly at my obvious confusion? Or, shall I trust my instincts that I'm smart already and ask if you consider me attractive?

I have a feeling I know what it is. I think I want it. Just like Tina Fey? :)

Creeped out.

The only thing I remembered today was Priyanka Chopra in Fashion found sleeping next to an African guy. That's how close I've come to knowing, meeting or talking to Africans. No offence to them, but right now, one guy is creeping me out. So much that the heroic me spluttered and immediately kept up a conversation with friends though I had tons of stuff to do, and ping-screamed for AB.

I went to the gym yesterday, which by itself is a feat. But trust me, there are more shocking things. I left my phone. No, not this. This is hardly a surprise, is it? So, I went to retrieve it. It is a new phone and AB'd probably kill me if I lost this one. So, there I was in my grey pedal pusher tracks with a random Tshirt, with unwashed (for 3 days) hair in a rat-tail like plait and sweating and my eyebrows undone (which should make you go eww now!) I was walking back to my apt after getting my phone and sundry talk with the apt office when I saw this big African guy running in my direction. Dressed for the gym, he nodded and said, 'Hey, how are you doing?' While I used to find it utterly painful earlier, I've become used to the ways of an average American and now respond with a smile ( AB says that's the clincher :D) and say something equally genial. I walked on, noticing from afar that I'd very smartly left my patio door open. As my steps became quicker, this guy called out to me.

I turned to see him asking me, 'Have I seen you before?' (I know, I should've known with this line, but sorry, I was fatigued after an hour at the gym) I said no and continued to glance at my open patio door. I just had to cross the road to enter my apt. He struck up a conversation. Like you know, am always a sucker for conversations. He spoke about Quikstar, and I quickly proclaimed it a scam. He said his cousin was doing it and he knew a lot of Indians did it. Turning red at the mention of Indians with Quikstar, I proceeded in good neighbourly fashion to explain the possible reasons. Next question was if I was a Muslim. I answered with my eyes on the door - no, and that I had to rush. After a couple more questions like this and what I was up to to which my rather guilty answer is: nothing (unfortunate, but true), he noticed I kept looking away from him. Rather, I noticed he noticed the open door the same time as I did. So, my overactive imagination kicked in and I thought that maybe this guy was planning to rob us, and was trying to distract me while his accomplice did it!

I quickly turned and said, I was busy and I had to run. I didn't want him to know which apartment I belonged to (after looking at my patio door a million times, yes) He offered to walk me to my apartment. F***! I walked along and stood in between two apts, so he wouldn't know. And to my luck, my neighbor who has just moved in and who I don't know came from nowhere and went to his apartment. Now, he knew which one I lived in. Well.

He spoke to me for a good 10 mins. On India, her/its culture (I know, sucker again) and what not and finally asked me to get him and his cousin jobs. I just lost it now and said that I was new and didn't care much and didn't know much and blah blah. And that I had to go. Next was a defiant, "Oh if you could get us a job, then, why not?" After this, I started to move towards my door. Then was the first creeping out statement.

"Come, let's work out together at the gym."

Me (ever so polite!) : umm, I just finished, thank you! I have to really go now.

Him: What do you do at the gym? Abs?

Me (thinking, thanks for noticing that I have abs and so I haveto do abs!): Lots of things.

Him: Do you do weights?

Me: no.

*Next statement which should have made me punch him.*

Him: Oh, I will help you do weights? Come.

Me: Okay, I've gotto go. Nice talking to you. bye!

Him: oh ok. Since you're nice and friendly, I thought we could exchange phone numbers. You know?

Me: umm.. *gave wrong phone number and my name (which he didn't get, thankfully)* Bye!

You'd think it ends here no? Well, since it is my life, and I'm stupid, it doesn't.

The next day, i.e. today.

The maintenance guys come. Remember I spoke to the apt folks yesterday? That was to complain of the tap repair and the wall damage. Ya, that was the only hint of anyone coming home during the day for me. Then, after sending them off and closing the door. The door that I casually close usually, so that AB can come on his own if am taking a nap or a shower. (no, don't get ideas here. there is more stuff to come for you to get ideas)

I heard a knock. A soft knock. I heard it only because I was near the door after closing it and locking it (after yesterday, I had to!) I hesitated. For the first time in my life, to open the door. I've almost never checked the keyhole and opened a door. And the one time I did in the past, I paid for it. This time again, I thought, I should. I peeked through the keyhole and I saw the scene from Fashion playing in my head. F***.

*knock* (a little loud)

me: shit, fuck, doubling up as if in pain, thinking fast.

*knock* *knock* (still soft, but louder than before)

Deep breath. Me. I can do better than this.

Open the door.

Him: hey there.

Me (forced smile): I'm really busy. I'm baking something. I've gotto go.

Him (peeking in): Oh ok. I just tried your number and it didn't work.

Me (very nonchalantly, or trying to be!): Oh, I don't have a phone, so no number. I'm new here. (WHY?)

Him: oh okay. I was just wondering if my cousin and I who have a photography studio could take your pictures. *smile*

Me (freaking out, but keeping that smile on) : NO. I'm sorry, I'm not into photography. Bye.

Him: Oh, you know, I've met a lot of Indian women, but none nice like you, you know?

Me: No, I don't. Sorry, I'm not into photography.

Him: Oh, you have a nice shape....you know... and I thought you know... It pays. And anyway you're not doing much. so..

Me: I really have to go. I have no interest. bye.

*close doors*

*run to computer - ping AB and other friends, frantically*

* call apt office*

*thinking - next time, I'm opening the door with belan and a knife and 911 on speed dial*

AB interrupting my thoughts to say: Next time, don't open the friggin' door.

This is the first time in my life that I was petrified and I was shaking. I've had my share of people who commented on my body and paid for it dearly. But they were puny. They were short, fat, a little tall Indian men with one weakness. This man, am sure has the same weak spot, but he was too big. Just too big for me to handle in panic. Because he knows where I live.

P.S. - A friend pointed out that I sounded prejudiced with my description of the guy and his nationality. I'd like to clarify that, it is not true. And that his face is very similar to the guy in the movie, Fashion which is what struck me even when he passed by me. And this guy spoke to me about Africa for quite some time when we exchanged notes about our respective countries. So, really, no offence meant or no bias here. I'd have reacted the same way even if it was an Indian. And thanks for pointing it out, D :) I should've realized it myself.

What path have you taken?

I know I haven't responded to comments in the previous post. And I know a lot of you had several intelligent things to say. At the risk of sounding snobbish and even rude, I'd say, we live in our own worlds and so, its easy for us to say - its the girls' prerogative or that the whole idea is bullshit. Its not. Its happening around you, whether you do it or not, it affects you, and you can help mitigate it by small steps only. That said, this is a different post. Sorry. I just wanted to take that out of my system.

I logged onto Twitter after ages and found a tweet from a friend. She found it creepy when she went to this website: http://whathappenedinmybirthyear.com/ and typed her year of birth. I did the same, just for fun. I thought so, at least. It wasn't.

This is what I got.

In 1983, the world was a different place.

There was no Google yet. Or Yahoo. Or Twitter, for that matter.

In 1983, the year of your birth, the top selling movie was Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi. People buying the popcorn in the cinema lobby had glazing eyes when looking at the poster. Remember, that was before there were DVDs. People were indeed watching movies in the cinema, and not downloading them online. Imagine the packed seats, the laughter, the excitement, the novelty. And mostly all of that without 3D computer effects......

.....In the year 1983, the time when you arrived on this planet, books were still popularly read on paper, not on digital devices. Trees were felled to get the word out.

In 1983... ..

...That was the world you were born into. Since then, you and others have changed it.

The Nobel prize for Literature that year went to William Golding. The Nobel Peace prize went to Lech Walesa. The Nobel prize for physics went to Subrahmanyan Chandrasekhar from the United States for his theoretical studies of the physical processes of importance to the structure and evolution of the stars. The sensation this created was big. But it didn't stop the planets from spinning, on and on, year by year. Years in which you would grow bigger, older, smarter, and, if you were lucky, sometimes wiser. Years in which you also lost some things. Possessions got misplaced. Memories faded. Friends parted ways. The best friends, you tried to hold on. This is what counts in life, isn't it?

The 1980s were indeed a special decade....

.....There's a kid outside, shouting, playing. It doesn't care about time. It doesn't know about time. It shouts and it plays and thinks time is forever. You were once that kid....

6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1... it's 1983....

Progress, year after year. Do you wonder where the world is heading towards? The technology available today would have blown your mind in 1983. Do you know what was invented in the year you were born? The Personal Digital Assistant. The First TCP/IP Network. Color LCD Television..

In 1983, a new character entered the world of comic books: Wild Child. Bang! Boom! But that's just fiction, right? In the real world, in 1983, Kim Smith was born. And Kim Clijsters.Samantha Mumba, too. And you, of course. Everyone an individual. Everyone special. Everyone taking a different path through life.

It's 2010.

The world is a different place.

What path have you taken?

I know. I know. Just another thing to read and laugh or reminisce and leave it. I couldn't.

I had a conversation with some people who I've become very close to, now. Thanks the the Internet that wasn't there when I was born. I feel a deep sense of empathy with these people. I wondered, along with a friend why we got along so well. Some of us haven't even met. We talk everyday. Random stuff. Girls, boys, food, India, blogs, gossip, our relationships or the lack of it ;), our troubles. We figured it was because we are all in the same boat. Trying to take the same path. Like everyone else. Get a job, earn some money, do well. Be happy.

What makes us happy though? I realized this, only recently. While talking to another group of friends. The three of us did theater back in college and what days they were. We still feel the same way. But each of us is embroiled in our lives. We feel a sense of achievement and responsibility because we have jobs to do, people depending on us. At least this is what the most mature one among the three of us, S said and thought. V countered. The meekest of us all. The youngest of us all. The quietest of us all. She said: what if you don't do a thing? Do you feel sick at the end of the day? I tried to duck. I looked down. For all my bravado, that's true of me. That's become true of me over the last 2-3 years. I knew nothing but work before. I knew nothing but being busy. Its not about the money, its not about the fun at work. Its about a deep sense of satisfaction and a high level of conscientiousness that made the three of us friends.

I don't have that anymore, I thought. Then everything V said, and everything I was trying to tell S, hit me back. Like a rude slap. Like your head dunked into a bucket full of cold water. Its okay. I'm ready to sit around, potter around the house with books, a couple of movies, food, cooking and I don't know what else I will take up. Not like I don't want to do a job. But its slowly creeping in - the idea that I'm not defined by my financial independence or my need to be. Yes, I know I will see comments here that say, its all in the mind, and that it doesn't matter at all. But then, all of us run behind the same things. Yes, including you. You only. I don't blame you. My mom thinks she hasn't done much in her life. I don't know if I should be offended :) Or, if I should understand where that's coming from. For now. I'm going to contemplate, talk, read and soothe the neglected soul. And take AB along with me on this journey.

Take a deep breath. Give me some credit ;) for figuring this out after two years of innumerable chats with 6 wonderful people, a deep sense of connection with 3 other people without even keeping in touch, regularly.

This is to those people who are in the same boat with me, hanging on, without even meeting each other, but trusting each other not to stab the other :D. Here's to all the sepankizhangu/beans curry lunches, and never-ending coffees (:P) and boiled eggs. Keep the faith. This too shall pass.

W.H. Davies wrote this long back, I assume. I read this long back. When I was in school. And when I loved to read and recite poems. My mom taught me the right intonation. I always won the first prize. Little did I know that I'd keep that as an indicator of me. Little did I know that my mom taught me these poems for a reason. Like this one, which I found while cleaning my desk.

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare?—

No time to stand beneath the boughs,
And stare as long as sheep and cows:

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass:

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night:

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance:

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began?

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

P.S. - A lot of the what happened in 1983 has been edited by me.

Wedding blues.

She sat there fully decked in jewels and the grandest sari I'd ever seen. She looked like a temple goddess. Not just in terms of beauty or the weird bridal glow that every brides acquire just in time, but mostly because of the jewels on her body. There were those trademark white stoned necklaces, long chains with huge pendants, red stone jewellery, some diamonds thrown in, lots of glittering gold, something on her slender arms, a piece of belt-like jewellery(vodyaana) on the waist, rings connecting to the umpteen number of bangles glistening on her hands. The sari was grander than anything I'd seen. She is all of 22. Giggling along with her friends, still not eating her vegetables, my neighbour's daughter who was getting married looked very much like a kid that she is.

I've known them since we moved to this house. We live in a residential locality and the community is very close-knit. This particular neighbour moved in the same day as us. It was a sheer coincidence that both our and their homes were owned by siblings who sold it to each of us respectively. His kids were younger than me. We got along well. Uncle even become really friendly with Appa, through business connections. Trust was gained. They were friends for life.

Uncle was really happy that my India visit coincided with his only daughter's wedding. We were invited for the almost 5 day affair. While I personally stay away from weddings, this one was different. This was a girl I'd seen grow. And that's very rare :) considering how old/young I am! And my parents were expected to make an appearance everyday. I managed to skip most functions apart from the good food that is served. I went religiously between my online and offline trysts to eat good food and comment on how I don't miss 'American' food and how I cook Indian food. Memories about my marriage surfaced. I was one of the first girls in the neighbourhood to get married. All in good fun.

I did wonder about whether this girl wanted to do anything else apart from getting married. When I spoke to my mom, she spoke of how in their community, it was common. It was common for the girl to get married this early, for the girl to not be financially independent, to marry a fellow business partner's son, to marry men who handle their dad's businesses and are not necessarily highly educated. And how the garish display of wealth was the norm. Who was I to comment on how much wealth they had, anyway? My wedding was fairly well-done (too well-done in my opinion, but emotional blackmail always works for parents no?)

I was to go to the Muhurtham. According to my mom, it was going to be sight for sore eyes. She laughed and spoke of how one could figure out new fashion trends for blouses and saris and see all kinds of jewellery on show. I was curious. I've managed to skip weddings for precisely this reason. Such stuff is boring for me. However, I was extremely curious to see all the men dressed up. Apparently, they wore jewellery too. I just had to see this.

Mum was tying the blue sari - my first sari bought by parents for my engagement. I was okay with it. For all my 'i hate dressing up' attitude, this one promised to be fun. I wanted to wear the jhumka my mom gave me for my first visit home, the gold chain that my Pati gave me during my wedding, those new golden heels that I'd bought the day before. I wanted to wear a sari after 2 years of jeans. And I wanted to look pretty. As I stood there like a scarecrow waiting for the inevitable pin prick on my shoulder, Amma kept talking. "You complained so much about your wedding which was nothing compared to this. Now watch. You know, apart from all the jewellery and the saris (nearly 15-20 of them) and Mehendi at an expensive restaurant, they also gave the boy a site and a car. We haven't done anything of that sort."

I just stared at her. Site? Car? Really? She continued. "...they have also kept 40 lakhs in the girl's FD account." Suddenly my mom realized I was way too quiet. She said to me: " Ayyo, I shouldn't have said these things. Its all normal in their community, kanna. And its 'aasai' - who else will they do it for, if not their daughter?"

I didn't go for the wedding. Very uncharacteristically, I burst into tears. What could I do apart from skipping yet another wedding? And should I be ashamed that my parents went to the wedding? Their logic? "Uncle is a nice man. He's helped us a lot. He's always been there looking out for you kids and Pati...and its common. The guy is not going to do anything to the girl. Its all love."

So what is the definition of love today? Security deposit for your daughter?

Resolutions 2010

Okay, I'm here again with a list. I love lists. So, I make resolutions every year. I don't keep them or follow them. But then, that is another story! However, for once, this time around, I was way too busy during the Holiday season to even think of resolutions. Now that everyone's left home, including my sis (yay and boo hoo!), I found time to sit down and cry and scream and rave and rant about my life all over again. So exciting to get back into the depression groove.

Anyway, not to bore you further, this time around, my resolutions are real. I need to get these done to do anything in life. As usual, I've come to a point where things that werent' 'must do or need to do' have become that way! I 'need' to accomplish these things to live. Okay, that is a bit much, I accept.

Here you go!

1. Eat more consciously.

The idea is to eat locally, promote local farmers, local business. I've been thinking a lot about eating organic v/s locally. While I'm not a huge fan of eating organic for various reasons, I've understood the importance of eating locally for sure. I cannot afford to eat organic food all the time and it doesn't really matter to me. Coming from India, I'm guessing organic food isn't a big deal for me. Yet.

Another point worth noting is that I'm going to try eat consciously for the sake of my health as well. I'm going to eat less carbohydrates and more greens and vegetables. I did contemplate turning vegan, but I realized I can't live without thayirsaadam. So, vegetarian, I shall continue to be!

2. Grow plants

I don't have a green thumb. I've killed a bamboo plant and a cactus plant. So, this resolution is a sincere attempt at doing something with my non existant green thumb. I'm planning to grow some herbs, tomatoes and peppers. Another move to go local, growing my own food kinda idea. Let's see how far it goes.

3. Exercise 5 days a week

I really need to do this. Before the holiday season, I exercised everyday without fail, sometimes pushing myself. And surprisingly, I enjoyed it. So, I want to push myself further and exercise a lot more this year and make it a regular part of my life.

- Other ideas involve treks every weekend in the summer, swimming with AB (should have some fun too, right?) and maybe Yoga even.

The idea is to lose weight (duh!) I want to be 130 lbs by the end of Dec 2010. (which is another resolution, btw)

4. Join the local library and read at least 2 books a month.

I used to read so much that my parents used to stop me from going to the library. I used to read with a torch under the blankets all night. My dad has torn books to teach me a lesson. Now, sadly, I don't read at all. So, I've restarted reading a month or so back. I have a long list to go. And I'm going to join a book club, online or offline, make sure that library membership is well-used.

So, I'd really appreciate book recos!

5. Swimming

Read resolution 3

6. Maintain a diary/journal.

I used to write. And think a lot. I've stopped doing both. I want to start chronicling stuff so that when I see it 5 years down the line, I don't think : Oh I've always had fun, and now I'm not. Or, that I've always been unlucky! The diary should teach me that there are phases.

7. Revamp food blog and be regular on it.

I love our food blog and have to revamp it big time. I need help with coding and stuff that I can't figure out at all. Any help? :) Apart from that, I want to work on the design of the site, the writing and the pictures!

8. Cake decorating classes

Every time I bake a cake for a potluck or a friend's birthday, I find my cake decorating skills lacking. Okay, I have none. I make it look like modern art :D So, I want to start some classes to learn the fine art!

9. Learn HTML

For the sake of the food blog alone.

10. Volunteer

I volunteered every weekend when I didn't have time to breathe back in India. Now, I have all the time in the world and I'm left thinking only about myself. How selfish can I be? So, back to the old me - an attempt.

11. Photography classes

I really think my list making obsession took over when I wrote this down. I'm not sure I can afford this now, but I'm going to see if I can do something online!

12. Get completely healthy by the end of 2010.

This ties up with resolution 3. I can write a book on how to get unhealthy and sick in 2 years flat just because you don't have anything to do.

13. Berkeley's creative writing program

Okay, this is seriously a wishlist. I'm not even sure they offer it, but I'm going to figure this out.

14. Make a conscious effort to watch Sports.

For AB. I told you I wanted to make this list longer!

15. Get my license done!

I know. I know. I did have a license which has expired now, thanks to change in visa status. And I haven't gone back I'm still living, yes.

16. Learn a new language

I'm thinking Spanish or good ol' Japanese?

17. Learn Tamil

A really conscious attempt to get back to my roots. Ha! Okay, I want to learn to read and write Tamil and spend some quality time with AB away from sports :D

18. If no admit, rewrite GRE bravely.

I kept this for last because this seems like a must-do.

Like I said before, if I don't do at least half the things I've spoken of here, I might just go mad. I've lost it several times now and come back saying the same thing - that its only going to get better from down here. Coz I can't go lower than this. And I've been proved wrong consistently. Let's see what this year has in store for me

P.S. - I forgot to tell you that all these resolutions will start being followed only after March 15! Because I'm in India until then and no rules work in India :D