I wouldn't be me if I didn't live this...

Sunday, October 23, 2005

Sitting on the Fence

An acquaintance used the following aphorism, if you will, pretty often: If you sit on the fence for too long, sooner or later it's bound to poke your butt. Apparently, if you can coin a cool-sounding name for "sitting on the fence" it doesn't hurt as much. I had heard of the intelligent design theory earlier (cool word, teleology, boggles people enough to allow one to sit on the fence for a while longer without being heckled) but started paying attention to it only last week when the debate heated up.

Granted that evolution has taken us a long way in a relatively short span of time and that gives us more reasons to believe that there was a catalyst somewhere in the process, should we scientists be open to the fact that the catalyst in question was something "pseudo-scientific" like intelligent design or one of Erich von Daniken's more 'interesting' theories? Or should we only confine ourselves to the mainstream? Does there really exist a line between science and psuedo-science? After all, several theories that were once regarded as "too far out" have been subsequently proved scientifically.

Oh, I wish I knew what Darwin was thinking now.

But, in the meanwhile, and on a much lighter note, here's what I'm thinking of.

The Placebo Effect

I was out for a while one crazy hot day this summer (the one that just went by), and returned home all geared up for a heat-stroke. Tried to sleep it off but the headache just kept getting worse. My room-mate suggested that drinking cold water with some khus (poppy-seed) concentrate she had would help. (Poppy seeds are known for their cooling effect on the human body.) So I mixed a little of it in water and gulped it down. A while later, I did it again. And again. After about an hour I felt much better. Wow, Grandma's little home remedies do work!, I thought.

The next time we were at the Indian Market, I memorized the name/brand of the syrup to buy a bottle for myself. I found what I was looking for, and entirely out of curiosity, checked the ingredients. Here's a transcript: water, sugar, corn syrup, artificial coloring and flavoring agents.

Just that. Nothing else. No poppies.

Water Rules!

Thursday, October 20, 2005

Defeat

Yepp. I'm back. Realized I wasn't working much anyway, and what I was doing was due to ...hmm, not nice to admit ...guilt. I still have to get back to work, but maybe if I take a healthy blog-break, rather than these furtive ones, I'll be able to get to work much quicker later :) So, read this now:

Close your eyes, start a journey
Through a strange new world
Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before
...
Floating, falling, sweet intoxication!
Touch me, trust me
Savor each sensation!
Let the dream begin,
Let your darker side give in
To the power of the...

..........Wine?!

========

:-)

Sorry, but if you leave the need to rhyme aside for a minute, don't you think the last word fits perfectly into the rest??

The actual continuation is ...music of the night. And yepp, from the song of the same name from the Phantom. (Damn, every time I use that word, I think of the Ghost Who Walks. And the last page of the Mumbai Samachar full of comics and Ripley's Believe It Or Not. Well, old habits die hard.)

Oh, well...

Since I'm in the spirit of blogging already (it's so easy to get addicted to this!) here's something I really liked from the anthology of poetry I was talking of earlier this week. It's called Turn, and has been written by Andree Chedid (I can't place the accents here). Go!

Build cities
for time and time's seed
for the heart and for the eye
for age and for the infant

Tear open the husk -- then!

Suspend yourself
upon borderless winds

Succumb to every sea, retrieve life
from every shore

Scale that dune whose only offspring
is silence

Then again
return to those cities
where events await you.

======

I so want to do that!

Masquerade?

Masquerade!
Paper faces on parade...
Masquerade...
Hide your face so the world
Will never find you.
Masquerade!
Every face a different shade...
Look around - there's another
Face behind you.
...
(In case you haven't guessed already, they're lyrics from the Phantom.)

I so love it! I love the color, the spring in their steps, the music, the life! And I really like the words of this song.

Gosh, I forgot, I was supposed to be studying!! Well, that's what comes out of trying to "be cool" and listen to music when I'm supposed to be doing a pretty in-depth lit search! Ouch. Back to work.

Tuesday, October 18, 2005

A rose by any other name...

I didn't mean to blog today (I'm so exhausted!!) but something terribly funny happened five minutes ago. Unfortunately for those who cannot understand hindi or food terms, this isn't going to make much sense. But before I continue, let's dedicate this blog to my Mommy, for teaching me the difference between tuur and moong daals and, you know, ...well, you get the picture.

So I walk out into the kitchen to find my room-mates busily looking for something.

'We want to make buttermilk and we're looking for aamchur to add into it.'

'Fine, let's see....' I looked as far as sight could reach, reached out on the shelves as wide as my hands allowed, but nope, no aamchur packet around. Then I remembered that I had finished the aamchur a few months ago.

Me: Nope, not there, won't be there, I finished it.

P: No, it has to be there, we saw it only a few days ago.

K: Yepp, we eat it all the time.

Me: Alone? Without anything? (Oh, and I thought I was the only one eating raw aamchur as a snack!)

P and K: Yes.

Me: Well, I can't lay my hands on any packets with powder in them on the top shelf, so I'm pretty sure it isn't in there.

P: No, we don't want the powder, we're looking for the small, round sour thing. (simultaneously making incomprehensible motions with hands, but I know what shape she's talking of so presumably she is drawing circles in the air. Which, by the way, from the feel of this conversation, she did metaphorically too.)

Me: Small, round thing?? Aamchur is a powder.

P: No, no, the solid thing shaped like this. (more motions, this time using palm as canvas and finger as beheaded pencil)

Me: Aamchur is AAM KA CHUR... mango powder... it's impossible to have it any other way!! (for a minute I considered explaining that if it was 'solid' they'd call it AAM, but they were already having too much trouble for me to bail them out completely. So I settled for simply understanding their problem and meeting them on their own terms.)

Both: Well, it should be there, we saw it.

Me: (Long sigh) Ok, how did it look? What color was it?

P: Brown, small pieces.

Me: (Suppressing smile, comprehension dawning... should've dawned minutes ago, but I'll forgive myself this once) Do you mean kokum??

P: No, aamchur!!!!!!

Me: (actions speak louder than words, going over to the shelf which was supposed to have the aamchur and retrieving kokum) Is this what you're looking for?

Both: Yay!! Yes.

Me: Well, this is kokum.

K: (asks P) Kya cheeze?

P: (Crowning Glory Moment) Arre, she calls it kokum, it's aamchur only!

Me: PPFFFFFFTT!! (Mental Aaaarrrggghhhh!!!! added as well.)

Sunday, October 16, 2005

A memory from a long time ago...

Ok, really, it seems as though the book I discussed in my previous post is actually going to provide me with a lot of food for blog in the next few days. But here goes another one. This one is special because it reminds me of my maternal grandmother, in the days when she had huge pins that she would stick into her hair to hold them together. Or was it the other way round? This one's called Diaspora. Read on...

After so long
to stand at your dresser
hairpins
in the dusty cup

Unfamiliar
bright black
new

In place of the ones
that loosened themselves
and slid away like days
to lie wherever you lost them
stray time
in their teeth
I wish I could find them
pry open
those long wiry jaws
retrieve your fragile face
from their greedy grip

But you
are new
collected
in the cup

Mother
so many pins
and every day your smooth hair
holding them all together

-By S.V. Atalla (origin not mentioned, lives currently in CA)

Two Little Girls

Incident #1

Yesterday I was having a conversation with my room-mates. We were discussing children, bringing them up, and the rest of the ups and downs of motherhood. I remember telling my room-mates something like, for me, the big attraction in bringing up children is that I know I'll have a mind and body to mould right there in front of me. The teaching process is important to me here, and the high of motherhood (or teaching) will come, say, twenty-five years later when I see my children grow up into responsible, mature and intelligent, well-informed adults, because of my upbringing. It's like moulding a piece of clay and seeing a well-shaped pot as the result (or a well-done clay workdesk... look at the picture).





Incident #2

I've embarked upon an anthology of poetry. It's called The Poetry of Arab Women: A Contemporary Anthology, edited by Nathalie Handal (Interlink Books, 2001). This poem has been written by Fawziyya Abu-Khalid (originally from Riyadh, Saudi Arabia), translated by Farouk Mustafa, and is called Two Little Girls. [N.B. Reproduced exactly as I read it in the book.]

I hang on to the hem of her dress like a child hanging
on to the string of an immovable kite

I climb her braid like a squirrel climbing a hazelnut tree

In the late afternoons we jump from one world to another
we play in the wind
like sparrows that opened the door to the cage

We move from game to game

She teaches me the names of the flowers
the seasons of the rain
the love of the homeland
and I teach her obstinacy and mischief

We share one apple and innumerable dreams

We paint a paradise of questions on the face of the desert

We spray each other with the water of the mirage
accompany a fleeing doe

Sunset surprises us in the thick of dusk

Who can solve the riddle:
which is the mother,
which the daughter?


The Result

I stand corrected. I've selected teaching as a profession, and to all the kids out there that I will one day teach, I intend to learn as much from you as I know you will learn from me.

The Phantom of the Opera

Last night I saw the movie based on ALW's The Phantom of the Opera. I can't say enough. I know a lot of the reviews called the movie a cheap version of the play (and isn't it, literally?) but after you stop comparing it to the original (always a difficult thing for me to do, but I'm learning to leave some of my prejudices behind) and stop thinking, hey, that wasn't in the book!, it is a great production. Costumes, scenes, a glimpse of theater more than a hundred years ago, and the power and mystery of the Phantom - a great recipe! Having said that, I also admit I found the movie went a little slow here and there. But that's pardonable.

I really think Gerard Butler did a wonderful job as the Opera Ghost. And I loved the voice of Emmy Rossum! And since I'm a fan of the art form called the musical, this is redundant, but I LOVE the music!

I Simply CANNOT Wait to watch the Broadway production!!!

Current Music: All I Ask of You (the Raoul and Christine duet)

P.S. Catch the original book on the Project Gutenberg website.

P.P.S. Frisco, we were supposed to watch the musical together, remember? I missed discussing this one with you.

Saturday, October 15, 2005

Lesson Learned

Aaaarrghh! I shouldn't blog on a Friday night. It's as if I've had too much to drink and then spilled out stuff I initially didn't want to talk about on a forum as public as this.

In case you're wondering, nope, I don't drink.

Friday, October 14, 2005

Farewell Andromeda, and other stuff

Current Musician: John Denver
Album: Farewell Andromeda

It's the first time I'm hearing all but one (the title song) song in this album. The mood of this album is reflective, a bit sad. Which is weird because the title song, Farewell Andromeda (better known as Welcome to my Morning) is one of the most preppy songs I've heard ever. I have a really happy memory of Maryland, one morning at 5am, with this song. But that's besides the point. I'm still discussing the rest of the album. Most of it has lovely wordings (like most of his stuff). Listen to this one, for example:

(Yes, I do have a problem with the first line but let's discuss that some other day.)

...you will know that to die is not really to end.
Living and dying are both your most intimate friends.
So empty the ashtray, sweep up the floor, put a lock on your door.
If somebody calls in the morning, just say we don't live here no more.

In fact, let me post a link to the lyrics of this album so that you can check them out for yourself:
http://www.geocities.com/WileyMike/2Farewell.html


Tomorrow's Musical Flavor: Rachmaninoff on the menu. I'm looking forward to that because of Ayn Rand's associations with his music. If Tchaikovsky is any indication, I know I love Russian composers (oops, not scientific method, generalizing from ONLY ONE sample!), but I'm trying not to expect Richard Halley from Rachmaninoff... precisely because I know she made that association in her writing and in her mind, and since music reverberates differently with each one of us, I might have "a different Richard Halley". Right?

(Nonetheless, I'm still wondering if I will find the proverbial Halley's Fifth Concerto tomorrow!)

==========================

Ooooh, in other news, I had a conversation with my research advisor yesterday. He said he had attended another PhD defense two weeks ago and he told me that, in comparison, I had done enough work to go ahead and plan my defense and dissertation layout. Yes!!! Imagine standing on the threshold of a Doctor of Philosophy. The end of the road, so to speak. (Of course, this week has made me realize that a PhD is not the end of the road for some people who go on to bigger degrees like the 'Habilitate', and that I can get only in Germany.) Well, on the other hand, I'd take my advisor's words with a spoon of salt, you know, to be on the safer side.

At some point, remind me that I have to discuss my brief encounter with a theoretical nuclear physicist, sometime. Oh, life is exciting right now. And I really, really hope I haven't said that too soon.

Wednesday, October 12, 2005

Question: Flattering or Offensive?

[Scene: A classroom. The desks are arranged in a U around the blackboard. There are approximately fifteen students talking among themselves. The lecturer has not come in yet. He has asked the students to come to a consensus towards the date of the coming midterm, so there is a lot of talk in the class. The far arm of the U has around five or six Indian students, the curve has around four Chinese students, and the rest of the population is concentrated in the arm of the U closest to the door. I come in and take a chair right here. I open my notes so I can revise what he did the last lecture. Meanwhile, since my brain can understand Hindi better than Chinese, I overhear the following conversation (the latter part of which seems to be playing loud enough for me to actually hear it).]

Girl1: What date do you think is best for the test?

Girl2: I don't know, un ladkonko pooche? (I don't know, should we confer with those boys there?) [She's referring to the three boys sitting next to them.]

[So my attention goes on to their talk. The boys give some date around the first or second week of November. The girls say, that's too far off, he wanted to give it to us next week. The portion for the test will be greater, the more we postpone. The conversation continues, then the girls get back to their girly talk and this is what I hear from the Indian Males.]

Boy Who Is Taking His First Class With Me And Is In His First Semester At My School (B1): [pointing towards me] Arre, usko pooche kya? (Shall we ask her?)

Boy Who Has Known Me A Year (B2): [Looking towards me, slightly apprehensively] No, no... mad or what? You don't know her.

B1: Why? What's the matter?

B2: [still horrified] She'll ask him to give the test today itself! [That's not true, ok, I really wasn't that prepared today.]

B1: [Shrugging, and throwing a contemptuous glance at me] Woh itni bhi smart nahi hai! (She's not that smart!)

B2: [Slightly reassured, but still panicky at the thought that I might want the test today if asked] Hmmm...

[And then the professor walked in.]

=========================

Now, answer this: Should I feel flattered that I scare the hell out of the guy who knows me because he thinks I have larger brains than I actually do, or should I be offended that the other guy thinks I have no brains??

I have to admit, I was a little shocked initially, not about the content or subject of their conversation but about the fact that they talked loud enough for all to hear :) especially me. But then class started, and I had a really good conversation about my research with the instructor after class and then I went off to work and then I had a really brisk walk home in lovely misty weather, and it was only when I switched on my PC that I realized that I had intended to blog about this. So apparently, all that this conversation was made for, was good post material. Which means that apparently I don't care enough about either of them for their comments to have either flattered or offended me. Wow. Must be growing up a bit.

Sunday, October 09, 2005

A Moment to Remember...

I went to the airport over the weekend to bid goodbye to a family friend. Dropped him off to the terminal, and started driving back towards the city. Many exits, train lines and overhead bridges criss-cross the area, and while it is regular to catch sight of an overhead bridge with cars, trucks, or even trains on it, I saw something different this time. I saw a huge jet plane on the overhead bridge I was just about to go under. Its wings spread far out beyond the boundaries of the bridge. The plane was travelling slowly across the bridge and as I went under the bridge, it felt queer remembering that an actual airplane was moving slowly overhead of me. It felt wonderful! I came out the other end and kept the bridge in sight through my rearview mirror for as long as the plane moved smoothly over it.

Clumsy post, but I really cannot do enough justice to that moment. It's one thing to know that technology advances in so many dimensions everyday, but it's a whole other world actually being able to witness all of that. My hat's off to the engineers responsible for this.

[P.S. Well, I know, it's only a bridge. It's as easy to build, conceptually, as one built for cars and all. I know all that. But imagine using the materials: the concrete, the iron; and using them in proportions such that a vehicle weighing a hundred times more than an everyday truck can avail of that bridge!]

Friday, October 07, 2005

Mirror-Image

So, last evening I was walking back from the lab. It was late in the evening and I was planning the rest of my day, as well as thinking of other stuff I have to get done. Walking swiftly relaxes me, and soon I switched off work-mode and went into window-shop mode. Not that there are too many windows there to give me visual treats, but whatever. Anyway, I came to this little Italian store. I know it's Italian simply because there's a large statue of a demure Venus outside the door, and the store advertizes all sorts of pasta. They also bake large wedding cakes, three- and four-tier ones, with the little figurines of the bride and groom on the top (that's besides the Italian issue, but they're displayed at the window so I thought I'd mention it). Also, there are these tastefully arranged porcelain dishes of fruit: plastic fruit, I think, on the window-sills. Very Mediterranean.

I like walking by the store. At the time that I usually walk past, the store is closed so there is only one dim little light on the far end, and nothing else. The fruit-bowls look even more delicious in the semi-darkness (possibly because you can't make out that the fruit are plastic). I was walking fairly quickly, but slowed as I approached the windows. For some reason, the place looked even more inviting last evening. I probably wouldn't have gone in to eat even if the store had been open, but the window display is really beautiful. I stopped. I looked in. I could see my reflection in the mirror. Then the eyes staring back at me blinked. Hmmm, trick of the light?

Nope.

I was looking at someone standing in the store. And that someone was looking back at me curiously. Ahhhh, euphimisms.... I mean 'suspiciously'.

I've given up on me! :)

================

...and with this post I celebrate a silver anniversary of my blog, i.e. it took me twenty-five posts to get here. Count 'em and see!

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

The Monster In Me

My mother will remember telling me this story.

Once upon a time there was a very pious and hardworking but poor man. He worked from dawn till late at night to feed his wife and children. He was always heard singing hymns in praise of the Lord. One day, in frustration, he cried, Lord, I work so hard and so long and even then I barely earn enough to keep my family together. The Lord heard his prayer and said, well son, I'm going to give you a tool to help you get through your work quickly. He clapped his hands and summoned a genie. He told the man that the genie would do anything that it was commanded to do. But there was one condition. The genie would ALWAYS have to be kept busy. If it wasn't working on something, it would go on a rampage and destroy the very master it was working for.

The man was very happy.

The first few days went smoothly enough. The man got the house rebuilt, the garden replanted, the fields harvested, the grains stocked. He asked the genie to make new clothes for his wife and children. He ordered the genie to help his wife with the tasks around the household. It used to take the genie a flash to do what was asked of it, so very quickly, the man solidified his lifestyle and household. Life was calm, beautiful.

One fine day, the genie came up to its master and said, Master, I have done everything you commanded me to do. Now what?

The man looked around for things that his slave could do for him, but apparently everything was in order. The genie was beginning to get impatient, and it was then that the man remembered under what condition he had been given the genie. He looked at the genie, who looked back at him with blazing impatience in its eyes.

"Oh no, this is the end!", thought the poor fellow.

======================================

Never mind for now, how Mom's tale ended. The point of the story is that the genie apparently resembles the mind in each of us. Give it something to do and it's happy. If it's not doing anything, it's hungry for something that will make it work. Different people manage their minds differently. Some minds are patient enough to wait for more work. Some need fuel ALL the time. I fall into the latter class. (While we're on this, which class do you fall into?)

My mother's solution to the man's predicament was to erect a tall obelisk in the center of the courtyard and command the genie to climb up and down it as long as there was no other work. In the real world, for her, that translates to continuous meditation, all-absorption in the single task of concentrating on one's subconscious.

Some people can actually manage that. I know Mom does. I can't.

And even right now, this minute, along with trying to plan out my PhD dissertation layout, reading some journal articles for my next class, and helping my room-mate with her image processing assignment (Technically speaking, this is the fourth time I've 'taken' the course. Once I go into academia this is the one course I'm dead sure I will offer to teach.), I'm still sorting through half a dozen things in my head. I'm still restless. "Running around" in my head. Beats me sometimes how the human mind manages to process so much at one go. Create connections. Absorb information. Make deductions. Train its neurons. And in the process, think and act.

Awesome.

======================================

P.S. Don't kill me, but this entire lesson in philosophy is because I'm studying for a Functional Neuroimaging class right now. Ouch.

Actual Conversations with Actual People*

Today I was traveling back home from class. With me was this girl I talk to occasionally, she takes one class with me. We struck up a conversation which eventually turned towards our respective areas of residence, and then at some point this happened:

She: So do you live with someone?

Me: Yes, I have two flatmates.

She: Oh, who are they?

Me: Well, you might not know them. They're from D. University (a different one from ours).

She: Oh, alright.

Pause.

She: So, are they from [our university]?


What part of that last sentence didn't she understand?


*I borrowed that title from a blog I was browsing. Thank you, Stranger.

Tuesday, October 04, 2005

Crazy

This morning, I was frantically looking for a record I thought I had misplaced. This is no different from a lot of other days; apparently my mind is too busy thinking of something else, or a dozen things else, to focus on one thing alone. I walked over to the set of shelves I thought I'd find it at. One of my colleagues, a middle-aged lady who sits next to those shelves in the office where I work asked me what I was looking for. She sits in the same place each day (I'm not saying anything new, am I?) so she watches me go through this routine pretty often. I mentioned what I was looking for. She said, well, calm down, it can't go anywhere out of the bounds of this office anyway so it's here somewhere, it'll come to our attention sometime or the other. I smiled across at her, but as usual, I continued to scan the shelves anyway. After watching me for a bit, as if addressing the room at large, she said, you know, if you don't take it easy one of these days you'll go crazy.

I smiled again.

Little does she know, I'm already there.

Monday, October 03, 2005

Half-an-Hour with my Mind

Well... done for the day... should go home and work out... call Fi... ***feeling a little excited*** ...Boyfi? Pigling? No, not that.... ***"Hi, Sizzler", on the call***...oops, that was a whole other name, funny... too much wind in Chicago, can't hear a thing... on the other hand look who almost flushed her cell down the toilet... Seems busy... ***ask him to call later and disconnect*** Should walk home today, good day ***look at the sun*** eclipse!!!!! ***stare away*** oh, that was in the morning, didn't see the ring, did you? Ass. ***look over my shoulder*** Bus isn't coming, watch out though maybe can catch it if it comes. Naaaahhh... Letitbe ***catch a glimpse of a US map*** Wonder how many actually know all the states though... how many can I remember? Ooh need pen and paper... out.... Signal... no vehicle, just walk... hey you stop staring at me ***to some guy in car, not aloud, of course*** shall I stick my tongue out? ...3rd grader, or what? ***suppressing smile*** Whatever. Water running... definite direction, must be a slope here... looks sloppy... looks pretty, see the sun... Bus in the opposite direction.... always happens, doesn't it? ***look over my shoulder again*** Well, go ahead and walk... why can't I wait? Might still come. Alright, do what you want. Walk. ***ten minutes into the thirty minute route*** Ahh, should walk faster ...loo... ***cross the street*** Wow!! ...roses? Red! Must be at least twenty-five plants!... good for Valentine's Day. Snow in February. No use... pluck? Go home. ***walking along a parking garage*** Entrance Closed, silly fools, that guy's driving out... if you want to close an entrance put a barrier there, not only a sign. There he goes. Of what use is Entrance Closed? Good I started walking, no bus yet. Twenty minutes more. Library of Health Sciences... walk in? Nope, go home ...loo... Oooh, to use the loo. Nope, go home... Sbarro's ***stomach suddenly rumbles*** can't think of pizza, nope. Don't think. Don't think. Of course you'll think of nothing else. Focus on something different. Like, oooh, lab entrance? Want to go to lab? Can get some work done. Too tired. Can't think. Why isn't IDL printing my report? Pizza. There you go again. ***a little exasperated now*** Rice and methkoot with imli and tadka. Less sinful. ***mouth waters*** Cucumber sandwiches. Mmmmmm ***stomach rumbles again*** No bread. First crunches... sit-ups... lunges... can run less today since I'm walking home? Nope. Sun is warm. Don't complain, not more than two weeks left of sun. Bye! Chicago better or San Antonio? I hate choices. You're tired.... how can one live without choices? Living itself is a choice... too philosophical... ***see some person walking a little way ahead*** Ok let's see how long it takes to overtake... ***speed up*** oh, good, will get me home sooner, can go to the loo... should really have done this before leaving work! ...Overtaken! Not a fair fight, you didn't let him know... like drag racing? Ooooh ...driving... remember Shenandoah? 95mph WOW!! ...and I-95!?! S. was a freak, nearly tried to kill Fi with his driving. Fi remembers? Don't remind him, ignorance is bliss. Ogden. Walk along Odgen, take Taylor, or straight on Polk? Sum of two sides of a triangle is larger than the third... Polk. Besides, too much food on Taylor. Oooh nacho chips with salsa... STOP! Need to walk faster. Really should've used the loo in the library. Want to walk back to lab? Closeby. Use the loo. If someone sees me ....only for this... go home! We're not that much in a hurry. Well, safe side... CRAB APPLES!!!!!! I thought I'd stolen all of them from the tree on Damen. Wow.... four... five ...six trees!! Yummy ***and the next few minutes are spent jumping up to grab the fruits*** why is this branch swinging just outside of my reach? Trees have a life, you know. Fox and sour grapes. Sour crab apples... heehee ***smile, snigger*** well, really sour. P's mom asked about them, should take some home for P. ***roommate*** Tree, let's make this symbiotic. Give me the fruits and I'll drop the seeds in muddy places where you can grow... propagation of species. ***eating*** mmmmmm, almost better than cucumber sandwiches. Go home quick. Need to cook something today. Nope, assignment. Sit with P. for her image processing assigment. Fun!! I love teaching. Should teach in small community college, work in GE... long time for that... proposal in May, gotta plan dissertation. For tomorrow!!! Dr.A. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. Oh look, there goes the last crab-apple. P? Well, I'll take them for her the day she does her first IP assignment on her own. Mean pig. ***me, not her ... giggle*** No, as a gift. Really not mean. Oh, my street. Turn. ***see vehicle coming straight at me*** I can cross, pedestrian's right of way. I'd be killed in Bombay with that attitude. Check mail. Victoria's Secret. Hmm, for whom? Who's this person... doesn't live in my house... GUY??!!! Wow. Fun. Oh, this door's open. Stairs, who leaves mail out here? Key, don't get jammed, I need to go to the loo. Loo!!! ***run to room, throw stuff on bed*** Take cellphone? Nope. Run! ***unmentionable thought process for the next few minutes, after all I'm not James Joyce*** Okay, get the cucumber out. Oww, no bread remember? Mummy! I want chutney. Mango. Yummy. First write. Ok, switch on the laptop. don't make that noise, you silly ass ***to the laptop*** Well, start.

Aaaaannnnndddd.... STOP.