But the Weasley home had garden gnomes

This house hunting business is sucking the soul right out of me. And cleaning the house to reduce the number of things we have to pack is even more frustrating! I get so emotionally attached to random inanimate objects that the pile of crap just keeps getting bigger. This mental instability is definitely genetic. My mom once mourned for an entire day and spent the rest of the week harassing me over a very old stapler I'd taken to college and forgotten to get back.

I don't understand why none of my friends are getting married. Everybody else knows about-to-be-married people. What is wrong with my friends that they harbour absolutely no marital aspirations? Do I have to make shaadi.com profiles for them myself?

I don't think arranged marriages were made for me. First of all I have to be able to tolerate the person enough to not throw a chair at his head. Second, he has to lovingly accept my mental patient status. Also, I've decided I want to marry a Banerjee. What are the chances of getting this three-in-one offer?

Why are people who think social rules are stupid largely called weird? Who makes these rules? Why can't someone go watch a movie alone? Or refuse to carry a cellphone? Why can't grown ups call in bored to work instead of sick and spend the day making blanket forts? Wearing too little makes people go haw; wearing too much makes people go huh. You want to be a writer but you end up making presentations. You should be teaching kids to read and fly kites and instead you're trying to sell fairness creams (and your soul). People should be happy but people want bighuge houses with funparty lives. What to do?

Whenever I start thinking serious thoughts, I look at pictures of donuts (well, almost), think about bubble wrap being sold at Landmark (56 bucks for a roll!) and wonder what everything in existence would look like if it was all in one place. I also think about the three ducks I met and named in Kerala. I wonder how Pondi, Cherry and Vishakapatnam are doing.

I shall call him Squishy and he shall be mine and he shall be my Squishy.

If you've already watched the video because I forced you to, you can just watch it again because it's worth it okay? Okay.

Pacman is the spawn of Satan. Yeah I said it.

I got off the bus this morning and the first thing I wanted to do was drop to my knees and kiss the ground for making it out in one piece. People responsible for public transportation should not be allowed to relive their failed childhood dreams of becoming F1 drivers.

I wish they taught us to play Pacman at school. I could really have used the practice. I played all day and I still suck at it. My coworker preferred Angry Birds on her laptop. Would it be unethical if I downloaded Chrome just to play Angry Birds at work?

My Hindi was insulted by a woman at work yesterday who suggested I should switch back to speaking in English since I spoke so slowly in Hindi. I've been pretty proud of my Hindi in recent times so that was a complete slap in the face.

I am such an office klutz. There are these long dangly things on the doorway near the boss's cabin. They look eclectic and pretty and all but every time I walk through that doorway, I get my hair entangled in them. Every single time. And then I have to struggle to disentangle myself trying not to look like a complete idiot all the while hoping my boss or her son don't notice.

And today after I had a serious grown up office talk with my boss's son, I walked into the door on my way out of the room.

I need to carry this bag as a warning to everybody around me.

And you need to listen to this song. (Courtesy Bones)



You're welcome.

Really? REALLY? Really.

Oh look. I'm just going to blog twice in one day 'cause


Okay so I'm a sucker for tacky songs (I'm South Indian but I don't know what they're saying okay?), terrible (you say terrible, I say hilarious) movies and cheesy reality shows (even I stopped watching that one two years ago).

Judging by the very first episode of Just Dance I watched last night, I'll have to add another reality show to my must-watch list. I love watching dance shows (I'm an award show junkie just because they have so many people dancing *hides face*) and I also love Farah Khan (she's my imaginary best friend). Put those two together and you know I'm going to be glued to the TV every weekend.

That show made me laugh so hard that I'd have choked on Pepsi had I been consuming any.

Star moment of the show no. 1 (See? I'm plugging the channel also. They should just give me a job there. Preferably as Farah Khan's gal pal)
A nineteen year old guy with a medium-sized tummy came onstage with a (in Farah's words) Wonder Woman star on his forehead and started belly dancing. YES. What was truly scary was that he actually could shake what his momma gave him. Just a little bit.

Star moment of the show no. 2
A person who looked very much like an engineering student (how many of you have I offended?) came onstage and touched all four feet of the two Hritik Roshan cutouts that were behind him. He then talked about how much he looked forward to unleashing his inner crazy while dancing and went on to do exactly that.

Star moment of the show no. 3
A guy walked in, said "I love you so much ma'm" to a horrified Farah, gave her a melted Dairy Milk bar ("Oh it melted! You're so hot, the chocolate melted.") and when asked his name said "Ashish. Naam toh suna hi hoga." Her reaction? "Why do my fans have to be the crazy ones?"

What I don't like about this show is the ludicrous amount of fakeness they expect us to digest and the elevated sense of superstardom they've thrust on Hritik Roshan. Getting to meet him is supposedly the specialest of special moments in every single person's life. If the contestants qualify, they get a bracelet with the initials HR - which made me roll my eyes three separate times. And they refer to him being godlike on multiple occasions. God of dance this, god of dance that - oh SHUT UP.

What I like is watching fellow rhythmically challenged people on this show. Hey at least I don't showoff my lack of dancing skills on national television.

This post is bananas B-A-N-A-N-A-S

Me and my workmate had a gigantic pile of work which made me just want to mentally slap everybody across their faces. But instead I chose to laugh hysterically at honking cars, squawking parrots and my grumpy co-worker. She very seriously thought that the stress had broken my brain (I was kind of afraid of that myself) and very helpfully called me a freak.

And then right in the middle of this very important thing that we had been working on for a very long time which seemed to be magically multiplying because it didn't seem to be getting over at all and was slowly but surely driving us both bananas (B-A-N-A-N-A-S), this happens


Where is the K3G love I ask you? Do you know how unbelievably hilarious Shah Rukh and Kajol were in that movie? It would have been an instant stress buster! But no, I'm a strange person.

It's okay though because she gives me chocolate and thinks I'm thin.

In Harry Potter related news, you have to watch this or your life will remain meaningless (much as mine has become since I found out they've cancelled Sub of the Day at Subway and now charge for the cheese).



Has your mind been sufficiently blown?

"Life is filled with ups and downs but most of the time I'm going sideways."

I don't understand why there aren't more ghosts in the world. When I die I very seriously plan on haunting everybody I know. Also people I don't know. And Abhishek Bachchan.

No, really. I could come back from the dead and help fight crime. I could be some sort of supernatural superhero. Or I could work with a hot cop partner. I would totally watch that show.

I've decided I'm just going to like every single person who has big feet. Do you realize how emotionally traumatizing it is to shop for shoes that size? I had to have my mine ordered. Specially ordered!

I think buses defy all kinds of logic by being early when I'm late and then refusing to turn up for an hour when I'm early. But they've been behaving themselves lately so I'm not going to boycott them.

You know we should just give up buses altogether. Just hire jet planes. I used to make ones made of paper at my previous workplace. We used to toss them across our desks. One of them accidentally hit my boss. She just asked us to aim better and spent the better part of the morning ducking.

Using shall in a sentence makes me feel fancy. I shall now eat croissants and drink tea. I like coffee but it isn't as fancy as tea. Only the masses drink coffee. The classes drink tea. I want to end this with a rhyme but I won't. (We shall see.)

I make up random nonsensical poetry in the bus because I have nothing to do. But then I forget them all by the time I get home. (Boo.)

Why is it smartypants and not smartyhat? The head is where the smart is no? (Drat!)

I don't know how to get out of this loop de loop I've created. (A monster! A monster!) [I don't know why I said that] {How many brackets can I get away with?} /Does this count as a bracket?\

So I'm just going to end with this.



I used to love this show!