Blogging has taken off.

I’m seeing bloggers featured in News papers…(Ok so far only the metro, but some blogs do purport to be famous and have people holding banners of their blogs in relatively odd places…."Pink is the new blog" comes to mind.)

Blogging is getting dangerous, check out yeah story of poor blogger in Iran who has been jailed for criticizing the government, poor sod got 14 years, for a post, Imagine that!

Blogging is becoming an institution. Soon some art alec at UFT or some random university is going to introduce a course called the Art of Blogging, or Descending into the minds of Bloggers, or Blogging as advertising revenue, or Bloggers are we or Blogging at the 21st century….

I’ve been blogging for an entire year now, and I know stuff. I know how to write snazzy posts, obsessively check site meter, and post friendly yet interesting comments on other peoples sites which cleverly lure them into reading this blog. I know the potential of advertising on blog sites, I mean how much do I want those funky “Go Fug Yourself” T-shirts???

I therefore nominate myself to teach at least one class at UFT or any other venerable institution that will have me. And I think you guys should volunteer too, we created the blogsphere, we should not let these greedy sap heads control it. We should be making the big bucks.

So Please go ahead and suggest names for our courses.....

Sick Again

I've been sick a lot lately. Friends are joking that I am missing an immune system. After I got a fever Thursday night, I decided it was time to go to the doctor.

The doc gave me the once over and said its a normal flu, drink lots of water, take tylenol every three hours. (Didn't even perscribe me anything, two hours of waiting and he says drink water.)

So I say, "I've been getting sick alot lately, alot alot, like three times a month a lot."

And he says, "well you seem fine, do you work in a big office?"

And I say, "Well its only twelve people, and they are all healthy, and I work out, and I take vitamins, and I eat well....."

And he says, "Do you take the subway."

And I say, "yeah but everyone I know does, and they are just fine."

And he says, "well I guess its just bad luck"

Which was advice I would expect to hear from a fortune teller not a doctor.

Funerals

My aunt’s funeral was my first family funeral.

It was a sad event. It was also a learning experience.

The day of the funeral, all the women went to the hospital to dress the body. They then bought my aunt’s body to her house in Andheri. My aunt was my mum’s sister, who incidentally married my dad’s brother. So relations on both sides were present. Once the body arrived, things got underway.

First there were the photographs. A note about my mum’s side of the family, they are the world’s most loveable drama queens. And all six of them love to out do each other. They were all obviously sad and crying, but I couldn’t help but note that when the camera came out, they began to cry even harder, and make the most grotesque faces you have ever seen.

Why in the world does anyone take pictures at a funeral? I mean I can’t imagine sitting around one day, taking out the album and saying remember the day when Aunty passed away, let’s have a look at all the crying faces…
Then they started the prayers, followed by hymns. And the five brothers and sisters would sing loudly, each trying to sing a little louder than the other, and every time someone new would enter, their voice would falter and they would start bawling. At first I felt sorry for them, but then I began to wonder the odds of them crying with absolute emotion every time some one new entered…..

When it was time to go to the church, I was told that we would walk to the church which was about five minutes away behind the hearse carrying the body. So holding onto my mum we started walking, and then I hear a strange noise at the back of us. I turn round and there is a five piece funeral band, bellowing out the saddest music you have ever heard, and as we walk, it is as if the world around us has stopped, and we have entered into a strange movie.

At the grave site, I got massacred by the flies. When they were ready to lower the body into the ground, the family was requested to kiss the body for the last time. Now I have to let you know, that I did not want to kiss the body and had avoided any direct contact with the body all day. So I reached down touched my hand on the forehand and kissed my hand. I thought I got away with it, till I felt my mother push my head down, and my dad push my back down, till I kissed the forehead, which was cold as ice. Let it be known that I was forcibly made to kiss a dead body and I am now scarred for life.

As they lowered the casket into the ground, I just couldn’t believe she was gone.

What struck me for the rest of the trip, was how life doesn’t miss a beat once you’re gone, things just move forward on and on.

Let's take It Slow

I saw Little Miss Sunshine over the weekend…..and loved it.

I know some of you saw it and thought it was slow…..my parents (who are hardly a Ebert and Roeper duo, so Gosh knows why I listened to them) said it was mighty boring….

I thought it was insanely good: story wise, comedy wise, tragedy wise…..GO SEE IT!

The last scene in the movie is of little girls competing for a beauty pageant. The girls are dressed up like little tarts with big hair, make up and skimpy little outfits. They were shaking their behinds and smiling coyly; true Tarty behavior from eight year olds.

Little girls should not be sexual. They should not be wearing make up, they should not be obsessing about their weight or their hair, or their clothes, or be wearing bikinis. Little girls should not be dressed in anything resembling what their mothers may be wearing or have worn in the last fifteen years. (I would like to say twenty, but heck it is fifteen years olds who are having babies these days.)

What I realized from my trip to India is the main difference between our North American society and Asian societies in general, is that we are sex obsessed. With freedom has come obsession. We sexualize everything to the point that nothing is sacred, shocking or even interesting. I am not scandalized when I hear a sixteen year old girl is pregnant, it seems so much a part of everyday life.

India is a romantic society. Even though it is hot, you don’t walk around in the streets wearing booty shorts. You don’t wear skin tight tops during the day, because it isn’t necessary. I am not saying Indians aren’t fashion obsessed. Nightclubs out there are filled with drunk leather mini skirt wearing girls, falling over themselves after having one too many to drink. There are strip clubs and brothels. Yet there is a time and place for sex. Kids grow up slower. Little girls play hop scotch. Teenage girls run around with boys playing hide and seek. Sure things happen, but life seems a little simpler, and a little more innocent.

We judge here. We judge based on what people wear. We judge on if they are carrying a name brand. We judge on color coordination. Maybe it’s us older people setting a bad example. Sure it is important to be the best you can be. Looking good is a great part of life, but it shouldn’t be an obsession. We should be able to go out in a trashy shirt and jeans and not care. We should be able to be ok with five extra pounds, and not be obsessed about having flat washboard abs. We should judge people on their actions, not just their pretty looks. Perhaps we are passing down our insecurities to the next generation.

I never thought I would lament the days of lace frocks that itch, and bow clad frilly shirts. But every time I walk by stores selling booty shorts and bikinis for little girls, I cringe.

How do we go back? How do we stop kids from growing up too quickly? From caring too fast about make up, boys, sex and most importantly having babies, whilst they are still themselves babies?

Confessions....

I’m swamped, with work. Which is new…because usually I am the opposite of swamped.

And I’ve been trying to come up with a creative and witty post for days now….but Nadaa!

So I figured I would confess a few things, (cuz confession I’m told is good for your soul)

-I have a need to play board games, I haven’t played any games in years, and I am secretly scared that I am so out of practice, that I would lose…and I would HATE losing, after all I once was the Maharani (Queen) of Monopoly…..

-Grey’s Anatomy is getting too dramatic for me. Silly dramatic, I mean why pretend that the main character is dead. Hello its called “Grey’s anatomy” not “Derek’s anatomy” Or “Izzy’s Anatomy”….so we all know she’s coming back. Stop with the melodrama, my heart is too weak, I cannot take it.

-I am addicted to CNN. I know that it is bias but I can’t stop watching, sort of like when you see an accident and you can’t help but look. Last night I caught Anna’s ex body guard Igor (who claims to be a possible daddy) and her supposed best friend. The best friend annoyed me. She is obviously hookey and kept referring to Ana, as UNNA…in a snooty accent, when you just knew the girl grew up in some suburb or park in Texas….and not on the French Rivera. I absolutely loved the slick scam lawyer the body guard had….who claims that UNNA wanted the bodyguard to look after the kid even if it turns out he isn’t the father…..all his other baby mommas better be paying attention…he wants to look after your babies…..
I get a kick of seeing where Anderson goes next….last night he was in the Amazon reporting on a tribe of people who live a primitive existence….Anderson went on about the need to protect their way of life….my own honest reaction was “Puleesee, the would love the pillow top bed, and Chocolate Danishes as much as me…..Civilize them!”

-Another confession….and I would like to say that even I am offended by myself on this point….but I secretly don’t really feel colonization was all that bad….I mean without it, I might have ended up in some paddy field growing rice, or worst on a bed of fire because my idiot husband croaked too early, or some other wretched existence….I know I know this is a HORRIBLE way to think……

-I addictively check site meter, and get a secret thrill when I see that some one is on….I then check their location and try and guess who it is…..

-Shopping is a symptom that I am depressed….that being said, I have been buying like crazy since I got back…a new suit, sleep wear (hello I sleep in the nude,) accessories, new boots.I am telling myself that its because everything is on sale….but the truth is I am still unnerved by Her Skinness….

-On my recent trip I made out with my ex ‘would be person’s’ really good friend. And I did it intentionally and expected it to be more of a fun thing, one which I would forget about the next day….as it turns out it went on for a bit, and now he is calling me every day and is sending me flowers from a continent away and I am drowning in both guilt and absolute refusal to do the long distance thing ever again….. Yet, I find myself waiting for him to call….. I am an attention whore….

-I find it impossible to shut Dracs out of my life. Just when I think I have him all out, he does something or calls, or appears, and I am an impossible sucker all over again.

-I ate a dosa every day in Mumbai….and haven’t gone to TKD in about a month and half….never mind the absolute waste of my hard earned money….the little extra softness on my belly is starting to annoy me….and no matter how many times I tell myself “Pot Belly’s are the New Black” I find myself sucking it in every time I pass by a mirror.

-I am so used to procrastinating, that I cannot work after 2.15 in the afternoon….instead I surf Pop culture sites…

-I am grey-ing….I realized this on the plane,….I have ten grey hairs on the crown of my head….It looks odd, since I look extremely young to begin with….

I have a zillion other things to confess but I think this should get the ball rolling……

On Surprises:

I mean spiritedly have been sending Happy Vermin Day emails to everyone all day….

And then I received Orchids from Master Jinx….(who will be introduced later)…and a box of roses from Cali.

And all the old ladies are in my office every ten minutes interrogating me…all the while giving me dirty looks....

And like a good girl,…..I’m lovin it….

Here’s one for long distance love!

Reminds me of a song my cousin sings:

Oh Lord, it's hard to be humble
When you're perfect in every way
I can't wait to look in the mirror
Cause I get better lookin' each day
To know me is to love me
I must be a hell of a man
Oh Lord, it's hard to be humble
But I'm doin' the best that I can!


Terrible I know…but really funny, when she stops whatever she is doing to sing out loud, to anyone who is willing to listen!

To the Society of Snow Days,

There is white stuff falling all around.

It looks like we are trapped in one of those Christmas bubbles and someone is shaking us around.

People are slipping and slidding all over the place

And its cold.

Call it already......why must you make us suffer????

CP

Pictures Pictures

Ok, I'm embarrased! I promised you guys pics, and as I look thru my reel, most of the pics are off my gorgeous fly, all oh whom have never heard of a blog, and who would not appreciate their pictures flying all over the internet. Also I never do the touristy thing when I go to Mumbai, so I don't have any pictures of statutes and stuff....and frankly I was debating taking pictures of the hut people, but I didn't want to be one of those people who pointed a lens at them and said, give me your best 'i'm really poor smile.' So Instead you get, these pictures. The first one above is the view from my cousins house where I spent the week.

Here are my legs, which are badly swollen from the 50 bites on each leg I got at the cemetery, on the first day. What can I say, i have sweet blood, and they all wanted a sip (HAR HAR HAR,)

In my attempts to perfect my 'future' role as charity wife, I visited the National Institute of the Blind. Here is a board which shows the amount of money donated so far. I think its great that the Canadian Government's name is even on there....but surely the government could give a little more.

The number of jobs found for the blind. Call centers are big employers....

One of the blind women making us lunch. My mother say this picture and said, "Even a blind women can cook...what's your problem??"

As part of their fund raising efforts the blind make rakhi's and garlands to sell.

India is in expansion, they are now widening the roads, to better accomodate the Honda's, Hummers, Ferraris, that are making their way onto Mumbai's roads.

Frankly speaking, they are always digging out there, its like they are putting Adam Smith's theory on employment to good use....to keep the people employed, have them dig....and dig and dig....

I ate a lot. I confess, that it was rather ironic, considering most people relate India to a bunch of starving people.

This was taken at a restaraunt that specializes in steam plates.....the food is so absolutely amazing out there.... they have all types and kinds of food, except that add a little something that makes it soooo much more tastier....

You know how we strap our kids into their car seats, and we wear seat belts? Well when my dad saw this family on their bike (yes all four of them on a bike) he couldn't help but roll down the window and ask to take a picture of them.

At first they thought he was krazee.....i mean they gave him the, look, then they saw the camera, and flashed us some beautiful smiles.

To the Society of Failed Actresses,

I wish to formally extend my application to your fine organization.

You will see as part of my resume that for the past three years I have been a devoted trainee of the Academy of Performing Arts (APA,) in some land where acting is a welcome profession. (Not Toronto, here I am expected to actually 'earn' my own living.)

When the person whom I had 'hoped' to spend an undefined period of my life with emailed me to say he had a change of heart, I bravely acted out the scene of uncaring woman. I was so good, that many thought I seemed relieved. When I later found out about my replacement who actually took up the job three months prior to my departure, I feigned giddy happiness, which onlookers took to imply hardy approval. Needless to say the Academy was impressed and a lifetime membership was issued.

However,

I finally am able to join your prestigious society, due to an incident, many in the field are calling, 'the closure' scene.

I mean, things started out dandy. I arrived, knowing I was going to see them. (And as the APA drummed into us, information is key. There can never be any emotions of surprise if you know what's coming next.) Only how could I have been prepared for the skinniness I was about to face? I walked in and shook dear Venus's bony, twig of a hand. Look I know thin is in, but seriously I'm a petite girl, how dear Lord could she have managed to out skinny me???? I mean the girl is practically a negative size. It was all I could do to keep myself from holding her down and forcing a large succulent piece of garlic butter steak down her throat. Let the girl eat already. Has no one told her ….pot belly's are the new black.

And ‘Selfish!’ Oh he was in fine form, looking at me with his sad little eyes, asking me cutesy questions about my life; all the while twirling his ridiculously garish wedding ring around, as if it were slightly uncomfortable.

I sat there, made small talk, commiserated about how sad it was the wedding photographer got so high that he took more shots of the guest’s feet than their head…(hehehe….so he did get my ‘contribution.’)

Until it was time to go, ….and he looked at her and said let's go. And suddenly every atom in my body started yelling, hello he is my thing and he's asking twiggy to go home??? Hello!!!

That's when I grabbed my cousin and ran home. And proceeded to cry my heart out, whilst the rickshaw guy swerved around crazily, thinking I had gone mad.

I've enclosed the $5 registration fee. When shall I expect my picture ID and pocket calculator???

CP

IM back!

And for the next two weeks I get to be irritating and post pictures and stories about my trip.

It is minus twenty in Toronto with blowing snow.

You cannot imagine how miserable I am right now!

Sigh!