Friday, February 29, 2008
I thank Tarryn for taking me to Houston and back. matchbox twenty rocked the kasbah, or rather the Toyota Center, and I don't care how anyone else feels or felt about it, but I feel and felt bloody great. I guess I needed the release to some extent. I was having a crappy day thanks to the over-paranoid nature that I sometimes seem to illicit within me, but MB20 sorted all that out. Michael Buble, a night earlier, was brilliant too. His concert was more chilled though, in contrast to the energetic, heart-stomping matchboxers. 2 kick-ass concerts in 2 days - I like very much so, lots of.
ICA (& ISA) is bringing Penn Masala's booties down to UT and that should also be fairly entertaining. A Capella is fascinating, eh? Ever heard of "vocal play"? Naturally 7, who opened for Michael Buble, are "vocal players". Ali, you should have heard how one of the dudes belted out a distorted guitar solo. It was unfriggin' believable. I'll post videos on FB soon.
Talking about ICA, a bunch of the ICA committee just pulled an all-nighter to put together the "Swing-Out Application", in our quest to capture the unprecedented-ly glorious award of "Most Outstanding Organization". I was, as usual, making a video - turned out decent enough.
In other self-obsessed news, I and Jason and Tarryn have Bon Jovi to look forward to this April. Ali will probably automatically, emotionally and mentally, message the brain-centers of the world how brilliant a Bon Jovi experience can be - it's a pity how some arrogant, insecure guys frame them as "gay". That's either defensive pessimism or downright superficial. Go die on a prayer, losers.
P.S. 19 feels the same as 18. Birthdays are over-rated.
Monday, February 18, 2008
The futility of futility is so futile. I did nothing of great consequence today. That basically means that today, I did no studying. Two important midterms are coming up this Tuesday and I have done absolutely nothing to prepare for the either of them. My bad, all my bad…
I thought Fado’s, this Irish pub on
Ooh, I am going to be shaking my booty for Jashan ’08 this year to some Bollywood rhythm! I am weirdly excited because it’s been forever since I dhin-chakd (danced) on stage. It kinda brings back those young frivolous days but, at the same time, allows you to be mature enough to not get over-conscious about yourself. Essentially, it’s all for the fun of it. And when something this fun can uphold ICA's solemn goal of pervading Indian culture through the roots of the UT campus, then why not go with the flow?
I am going to now print some study material for tomorrow and hit the bed. Screw the studying. If you do something, do it to the best of your ability. I am currently procrastinating, so I will do it to the best of my ability.
P.S. Peace and have a great week.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
We partied last night. I’d have liked to say we partied hard, but we really didn’t. It was one of those Valentine ’s Day parties – a “red light” party to be precise. No, it has not got anything to do with prostitution you over-assuming perverts. What the “red light” basically refers to is that when you enter, you get a colored neck-glow-band according to your current “relationship status” – red to stay wed (i.e. those taken), green for those who are single and ready to mingle, and yellow to stay mellow (i.e. stay neutral). Super cool, eh? Yeah, right. What they should have also had was pink to wink and blue to screw – would have made the night way more interesting.
Club parties are getting boring. I don’t drink because self-intoxication is pointless, so that basically means that I have to look for un-intoxicating ways to get “happy”. I enjoy dancing, but a crappy DJ doesn’t help with that. What really gets to me about these club parties is the sexual tension that floats in the air. Everyone is checking everyone out in the most sexual of ways. That’s fine I guess, but annoying thing #1 is that a lot of things are assumed. If you ask a girl for a dance, they almost all assume that you are shouting out, “Hey, can I get into your pants?” This might be true for some horny guys, but sometimes, a dance is just a dance. If it does proceed to the pants, good for you, because you very well know that you (and your lovely friends) will not let yourself get into the wrong pants. Annoying thing #2: People hate it when someone who they find unattractive harmlessly flirts with them – it’s “weird”. But, if a sexy SOB comes along knocking on the vaginal door, it’s obviously no longer “weird”. Get over yourself you arrogant self obsessed maniacs! Instead, be flattered by the attention that you get, however “ugly” the source seems to be.
Frat house parties are worse, at least through my lens - taboo alcohol flowing like the “Ganges” (
We, as in Jason and I, had an early morning today. We walked down to Fados, this Irish pub on
P.S. We (ICA/ISA) are bringing down Penn Masala to UT. Woot woot! I need to make a flier/hand-bill for their show.
Friday, February 15, 2008
House is one hell of a television series. The script is, quite simply, breath-taking. So breath-taking, that it literally takes your breath away, and then stuffs it down your lungs with the gustiest of gusts. To add to the breath-taking-ness, Hugh Laurie plays the character of House like a dream. Gregory House is fascinating – messed up in sorts, but principled when it matters, i.e. good. He is bloody brilliant in bestowing his brilliant bedical bisdom on beople. The Vicodin addiction does not take away anything from the brilliant doctor that he is.
Dad, you need to watch this show. Go to Carrefour or Virgin and buy the 1st season DVDs of “House.” Yes, people do say that there are some dodgy medical facts that the writers do concoct, but that doesn’t really affect the purpose of the show. Being a doctor, you will really enjoy it.
For some bizarre reason, a couple of days ago, on the 13th of February, a day when I did not blog, my blog got a whopping 200+ hits. Why? Brilliantly stupid, I say.
For all Arsenal fans that do happen to bounce onto this blog, let us bow down and worship the brilliance of Mr Wenger, let us treasure our current 5-point league over Satan’s children and let us pray that we kick Satan’s children’s rears tomorrow. What you also need to do is start reading www.arseblog.com – the all time greatest Arsenal blog. You should also go see the grand old Adebayor rant away about his brilliant form.
P.S. Ali, where art thou?
Thursday, February 14, 2008
If you are not one of these “superficial maniacs” then it’s a good thing. I am glad you have that edge over others to actually care a little for someone else rather than yourself. Everyone is selfish, and that’s our wretched nature; but show a little love and you’ll get a little love. Be genuine when it matters. Then, listen to Bob Marley, and get high on life.
The weather in
University is “rocking”. I am in control of my classes and I am enjoying the independence. IM soccer is fun, but
Jason, you're ultra cool. Never hoes before bros, I apologize.
My nose is running like Marion Jones with steroids, and is annoying the tissues out of me. Head's a little heavy - don't want to fall sick.
I am bored of blogging like any other random person about minor, uninteresting, forced issues. I hate the formality that seems to be pervasive in the previous posts and I hate the unnecessary stress I am taking over it. My blog=my way. Change is good if you make it to be, just like life.
P.S. Ridicule away you cynics, stop judging things that do not need to be judged. Feel the love generation foooo!