Meet Venks

This is Venkata Subramaniam Swamy. But we call him Venks. He's an ownerless mongrel that hangs around near a cemetary about 10 minutes away from our office. He is really beautiful for a stray, as you can see. He looks regal and dignified. I seriously contemplated taking him home with me and adopting him at some point but he's too old and he's too wild it just wasn't feasible.

We swipe food from the cafeteria and go down and feed him once in a while. The first time we did that, he ate heartily and barked at us ceaselessly after he was done. He was always wary, looked at us with distrustful eyes, stand at a distance and refuse to come closer. Only when we put the food down and moved away would he move closer.

But yesterday, I didn't even see him but he bounded and leaped out from behind a truck when he saw me, all excited. He found me! I didn't have to stand there and coax him with food. I was so thrilled to see him yesterday.

We wanted to name him and Sohna thought he looks like a wolf so should be called Wolverine or Logan, but we decided Logan's too human a name. I wanted Mungojerry but again it was decided that it's derogatory for a dog to be named after a cat. Shirley came up with his current name. We all love it, he's a South Indian dog, and should have a South Indian name.

I can't wait for the day he'll let us pet him!

How marred I am and withered too

Give me the lowest place: or if for me
That lowest place too high, make one more low
Where I may sit and see
My God and love Thee so.

(Christina Georgina Rossetti)

'Lowest place' dil takngial pawh hi in in thlahrung ve thin em?

Make one more low, and one yet lower, and lower still ....

Scissor sister

I tried using only pictures of people I know and whose pictures I took myself. But I couldn't leave Lauri's eyes out. Too beautiful to not be included. Now look at that closely and tell me how many girl's eyes are there? Not counting my own of course, too obvious :-)

The only thing that will keep me at home is a very, very, very, very, very good book or extreme exhaustion. I've been trying to enforce some form of discipline. Get home. Stay there. It's really very difficult. When I do stay home, I read so much my eyes hurt. I do the laundry, I end up washing clothes that don't even need washing at all and I end up with blisters on my fingers. So I've come to the conclusion that I'm just inherently self-destructive.

I also end up cutting up people's good pictures in absence of good book or dirty laundry.

I love the pink-eared one :-)

I've noticed while doing this that among the people I know, there are hardly any women who wears glasses, while there are quite a few among the men.

Hunting for pictures and cutting them up is a very good way to kill the time, and I can do them like I'd read a book, lying down with no intense physical injury to self. Besides burning eyes if you overdo it. They're pretty fun to do though. I have eyes, noses, ears, teeth, lips, watches... I look at them the next day and I'm not even really sure which eye/nose/lips belong to whom. And they're all people I know very well.

I really want to do something a little more scandalous, like busts, or butts, or belly buttons. But I don't have enough pictures for those :( Am open if anyone's got anything to contribute!

Ozzy-mandius of Egypt

Isn't Shirley's 'Khumbeu' cute? The Fedora of my ancestors. She really likes it. And I must admit hat and wearer looks like they were made for each other. Could it be that Shirley is one of my long-dead ancestors reborn? Thinking much about reincarnation these past couple of days :-)

AAaarrghhh! It's review season - the season of nightmares, deadlines, and unappeasable appetites. That's what kickstarts the goofing-off ball. You do anything and everything except all that you're supposed to do! I'm either stressed out or having the time of my life or too tired I can't keep my eyes open all the time. Any one of those three.

*Tip: Soft toys, soft birds induce a peaceful mind.
I have tons of reviews to write, so much so that I can't write anymore (Nags, you know what I'm on about). I just came back from a 2 hour lunch (Barbeque Nation's lunch buffet - free beer and your very own barbeque kit on your table). I already wasted the whole morning building paper ships during meetings. I piled candies on it and smiled at my candy-laden ship while everyone else looks grave with serious business matters. It's the ship that will take me to Holland and will take me sailing over the sands of Egypt. That's what I think about during meetings. That's what I think about at night!

I'm losing it. Iwannagohomeandsleepsleepsleepsleep.

*Tip: Stress-buster of the day: Bite off birds' heads. Yum.

Psyched!

The weirdest thing happened last night. I was out having dinner with some friends at this beautiful restaurant near a lake. We were waiting for some other friends to turn up so we were sitting at the bar. There was this one guy sitting next to us who looked exceedingly familiar. I didn't pay him too much attention but wondered a bit where I'd known him before. And it struck me later that he had a strong resemblance to a guy I used to date. The friend who sat next to him struck up a conversation with him, and they started talking. We were talking about something else so again, we didn't join in but I heard him talk, and again, he sounded terribly like the ex. And it was just weird because more than his resemblance to the ex, it felt like he was someone I used to know really well even though I was sure I'd never set eyes on him before.

I saw him talk and look at me. I couldn't hear a thing but my friend also turned and looked at me so I knew I was being talked about. I pretended not to notice even after the friend rejoined us later. The friend told us a bit about the 'stranger' he was talking with, which country he's from etcetera, and there I was, having all these weird, indescribable, swirling, smoky, deja-vu-type feelings because of him when my friend added 'And oh, he said his girlfriend looks just like you.'

Well, that sounds all corny and lame-assed and everything but it just felt so out of the ordinary...


.

Trying not to burn

They never tell you truth is subjective, they only tell you not to lie
They never tell you there's strength in vulnerability, they only tell you not to cry
They never tell you you don't need to be ashamed, they only tell you to deny
...So is it true that only good girls go to heaven?

(Something Else - Gary Jules)

I can be strong too even when I cry. I don't need to be ashamed of anything. I'm not responsible for the genes I inherited. I've never been that kind of good, but I can try not to burn.

I'm trying to embrace the truth of who I am, what I am, not always easy but I don't hate myself. I may have momentary lapses of self-loathing and shame, but that's about all. But I do tend to stray.

Can I get away with just facing and embracing simpler truths like Shirley's vertical milwaukee portable saw trax and men with fur balls down their throats? Or maybe even Mongolian Death Worms or Bryukhonenko's living severed dog head...? They are so much more easier....

.

Guess what!!

Jens Johansson wrote to me!!!!

Well, it doesn't matter that it was just one line and he was just being nice to ardent fans I guess, but I don't care. It may not seem like much but it means a great deal to me. A personal MySpace message from one of the Stratovarius guys. Wow! It's so eff-ing fantastic!
I've been hunting each member down on MySpace. I never really expected anything. Just to see who their friends are, read their stuffs, their blog entries, and everything that I've seen's just made me admire the guys more. They all sound so down to earth. Now I can admire them as musicians and as human beings.

Yesterday, we saw Timo Tolkki glowing online. Shirley and I just stared at the screen, sighing "Can you believe Timo Tolkki is there, sitting in front of the computer, logged on to MySpace right now? Wow!!"

In some ways, I think I deserve that little message. I've introduced and turned many people into Strato fans :-P You know that's not an easy thing to do in a country like India where metal's never been popular. Anyway, that's all. Think I'll go and brag some more. I've told everyone on my floor, now I'm going up to the 6th, 7th, and 8th floors to tire everyone's ears out.

UPDATE: Timo Kotipelto also just wrote back to me! Yayyy! Best day in months!!

UPDATE: 1:06 PM, 7th Sept. Lauri Porra replied to the message I sent him last night. He wrote:

Hi jerusha,

thank you for your kind words. they made me happy

-Lauri

(I swiped this pic off some site, I hope I'm not doing anything illegal!)

It was while Googling for Lauri that I found their MySpace pages. Lauri is so hot but I'm not going to go into that. I read what he wrote about VIP tickets on his blog and that was enough to make me see him beyond hotness. I remembered the VIP-ticket-holding-smirking people at the Aerosmith concert and how painful it was watching them being herded in before you when you'd been standing there for HOURS.

We are all good human beings. Doing unto each other and all that. Anthropos! I'm so-o crunked.