Irrelevance All Over

The only thing nice about now is in realizing how difficult it is to type with one hand. Because my left is busy playing 'I Am Goin To Eat You' with Miu.

The rest is milk chocolate depression.

I hate whimpering, simpering, niminy-piminy chits.

I hate mamma’s kids who run to their mommies and twiddle with their apron strings with a pouty face when they hit the blues. Once every four minutes.

I hate emos too.

I hate their hairstyling.Like what do you do when your fringe starts to grow and looks like a misshapen 7-pointed stubby star..or closer to an amputated octopus? Not all of us have the luxury (read, grossness) of going to beauty school!!

(And I hate the fact that ‘7-pointed’ reminds me of my last semester s.g.p.a…eff it!)

I hate the overdone eyes. I hate the fact that people try to do it here in the tropics, the humid heat making it runny and smudged and you end up looking like a raccoon.

It’s okay when I do it though. My name is Meeko. (yeah... Go Wiki!)
(YAAAYYY!! Love u shishta… mwahs)

And getting back to hatred, I hate that I am being absolutely all of them right now.

I hate ranting. But then what else can I write about when the blogbug hits me???

I have not been brought up by a stepfather in the valleys of Dehra. I am no vagabond from the streets of New York. I am not dying of some unpronounceable disease. I am not a tomboyish Alabama chick in a conservative, black-hating society. I have never lived in Corfu with a baby donkey and a scops owl as pets.

*screams at mum*

I am just an impossibly average almost-twenty year old.
With a somewhat ordinary, satisfactory life. With nothing to do but wish I was this and wish you were that.

I wish I spoke French and Spanish and German and Urdu and Russian and Swahili like a native.

I wish I smelled less of concrete and more of pine needles and the Himalayan freshness. Or of the lazy, olive-colored noon siesta.

I wish I was pretty enough to not ever need a mirror. Except when I’m wearing my contacts, of course. I wish I looked liked Jasmine or Pocahontas. Anything Disney really. Hell, even their Captain Hook has élan.

I wish I wasnt allergic to seafood. I want to eat clam and squid.(Miu is affecting my thought process way too much now.)

Ugh!!

Whines. Running. End Task.

And hmmm. FYI. (Chetan Bhagat way)

And please don’t give me the oh-you-poor-literature-pariah eyebrow!! I’ll eat cabbages over the weekend if you haven’t gone voraciously through all of them. Hypocrite!

I quite like the guy. He’s intelligent. He’s cute. He’s funny. And I guess he has made a huge mistake of drawing too many references to his wife and children.

Now he’ll have a tough time convincing his new girl about how much he loves her. HA!

When he gets a divorce. If and when he gets a divorce.

Hey.. Is Bhagat an S.C or such??