the butterflies in my stomach

Ring Ring We want your opinion!

rd — Tue, 26 Oct 2010 21:55:55 +0000

Last night, I got a phone call around 7:30pm. On my landline. [Please refrain from asking why I am the only person under 30 who has a landline.] I don’t often answer phone calls from numbers that I don’t recognize, and my parents are about the only ones who have my landline number, but I was worried that they got stranded for some reason in some yet unknown part of the northeast and they didn’t have cell phone service and had to call using the ancient collect call method from a pay phone, so I answered the phone call. Hello? An automated voice spoke to me, explaining that this call was a survey, conducted by one of the local news channels. I got pretty excited because I love giving out my opinion, in case you couldn’t tell. But then they asked for the youngest male over the age of 18 in the household. Cue droopy face. I pressed the number to say there wasn’t a male available, and then gasp! They asked for the youngest female over the age of 18 in the household. Cue embarrassingly uncontrollable grin. Does anyone else get this excited about this kind of thing? Anyhow, they asked me all about my opinion of Barack Obama and the current state and national governments, about what issues are most important to me, and who I would be likely to vote for in this year’s senate election in my state. Cool beans. Now my opinion has been heard. But I was thinking, this survey is way flawed. First, they are calling landlines, which as I mentioned, I am the only person under the age of 30 who has one, so they are getting a pretty inaccurate sample of the population. Second, they are asking the person who answered to be truthful about whether or not they are a boy or girl and whether or not they are actually the targeted person (ie. the youngest over 18). Third, if there had been a male in my household, would they still have asked for my opinion after getting the male’s opinion? Or do they only ask for females in case of no male present? No matter which is the case, this is flawed. If they only get the males if one is present, well then poo on them. And if they get both, then some households are unfairly represented by two voices instead of just one. So if there is one male and one female in the household, both could get a voice. But if there is only one female or even ten females in the household, they only get one voice. Fourth, why ask for the youngest person over 18? I’m just confused about that.

It’s just odd to me that the survey is so flawed because they put these numbers on the news, and a lot of people base their opinions off these numbers. And these opinions that people have based on flawed numbers can really change things when these people go out to vote. Not that I have a feasible solution right at this moment, but something really needs to be changed to make things more accurate. It also makes me wonder what other things the news media manages to portray in an unfair light.

Also, on a related unrelated note, I voted early this weekend. I didn’t have to wait in line. ‘Twas rad and very American.

My inbox is full

rd — Tue, 26 Oct 2010 21:12:42 +0000

I get way too many text messages. My inbox is always warning me that it is getting too full. The problem is that I just cannot bring myself to delete some of the messages I get from my family. They are not even funny sometimes, but they are so adorable to me.

Have a few examples from my mother:
- I texted my mom to tell her I was at the Cat’s Cradle. Her response: “Meaw meaw”
- I asked her if she saw any fall colors when my parents were driving through the northeast one day. Her response: “No we saw phool colors-jk” … [This may require some explanation for most of you. 'Fall' means fruit in Bengali, and 'phool' means flower, so kind of like flora and fauna...)
- "Thank u so much! I lub u! Enjoy the moo-vie"
- "Thanx berry berry much 4 sayin dat!"

From my dad:
- "I heard from [your sister] that u r not washin banana after peelin any more! I am appalled at ur hygenic downfall”
- “Hello sunshine. This is mama. How is it going?”
- “CAC (cool as cucumber)” [my dad abbreviates more than a stereotypical sorority girl]

I have about 300 of these, including ones from my sister, which are all inside jokes, so I’m not even going to bother with those examples. I need a phone with a bigger memory.

A confession

rd — Thu, 29 Jul 2010 06:44:55 +0000

Weird dream the other night. I was getting married.

That would be weird enough on it’s own, since I’m nowhere near ready to get hitched, and as stated in the previous post, I also don’t even have options right now. Not that that’s a problem with me.

Weirder part. I was a total bridezilla. Well, maybe not that weird because it seemed like the wedding had been planned at the last minute. I didn’t even have a nice sari to wear, I was just wearing this maroon salwar that I already own (wtf), and I was upset because I wanted to wear this other red salwar that I also already own (again, wtf). Nothing was ready, and I was yelling at everyone. I actually wonder if I was actually yelling in my sleep. In any case, I woke up with a parched throat and it certainly felt like I had been screaming my lungs out.

Weirdest part. My sister was helping me get ready. That’s not weird, but this is. She asked me if I really wanted to get married. And then I started thinking, and a little video reel played in my dream head of this Indian guy (not a face that I actually know in real life, which is both good but less exciting) and I realized that I didn’t really know this guy. So then my sister asked why I was doing it, and I gave her a speech about how sometimes one has to do things for the good of everyone rather than just looking out for their own interests.

I’ll leave it at that?

Blame Twitter

rd — Thu, 22 Jul 2010 05:29:12 +0000

So. I disappeared for almost a year from here. Well, life happened. It’s a terrible excuse, but it’s what I’m using. Surprisingly, there isn’t really that much to update from the past eleven months. I got a job in the same town where I went to school, moved back here, and now I work 40 hours a week. I don’t have homework to do anymore, and I should be studying for the MCAT, but instead, I spend my free time frolicking about the city with my friends, trying to prove my independence. It’s interesting on a day to day basis. But, it is definitely not very interesting when I run into old friends whom I haven’t seen in months (mostly because they no longer live in the area), and they have lots of stories to share or plans to make or new love interests to gush about. And I just have my life. Interesting, if you ask me about a particular day or week. But it sounds boring when it’s generalized as “I’m still working in the lab, nope, no lovers, future plans are tbd, go to concerts and cook in my free time.” Boring, right? Geez, even I feel sleepy now.

But anywho, I also have had a twitter account for over a year now, even though I swore up and down and near and far that I would never get one. Then again, once upon a time, I said I would never be a blogger either. Not that I go around telling people that I am a blogger. Hmm, maybe that would be a good way to spice up my “what are you up to now” conversations. The point. The point is that twitter kind of fulfilled my need for the past year because I was not really using my brain. I didn’t have to write lengthy, thoughtful pieces anymore (HA!). I could just post a few words, or a link, or whatever I could fit in 140 characters, and be done with it. I haven’t even really kept up with my private diary since I began working, so I really haven’t written much in a long time. But my brain is revolting now. I have been reading a lot more recently, and my mind is actually craving all things intellectual. So yeah, my writing on here is not polished and ready to be sent to an editor, but that is totally okay. The important thing is that I am writing again.

Reacquainted

rd — Mon, 19 Jul 2010 05:48:42 +0000

Sometimes you run into an old friend. Maybe you haven’t seen them in years. At first, you made the effort to keep in touch every week, having an appointed time on Thursday evenings when you would phone each other to catch up. Then one Thursday, something came up, a dinner party with other friends, or perhaps you were out of town. The phone call was rescheduled for a later date. And as time went on, this happened, with increasing frequency, until one week, you ceased to even think about said friend. Months pass. You get news that your friend is returning. It feels exciting, yet you worry that things might be awkward. And yes, at times it is awkward because there is such a large chunk of each others’ lives that is missing from the narrative of your friendship. But at the same time, it feels good to talk to someone who knows you, who really knows you. And you know that in time, as you become reacquainted with your old friend, the awkwardness will quickly fade away, and you will soon forget that you even worried about it.

Hello, old friend.

SMS Flirtation

rd — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 05:05:44 +0000

I just read this article on texting in India today. It talks about how young people in India flirt with each other via text message nowadays because social and cultural constraints prevent them from flirting with each other the way western youths are able to. The article was written almost a year and half ago, but it really made me laugh because last summer, when I was in Chennai, I gave my phone number to a group of guys that we had hung out with a few times, some friends of a friend. About two days later, one of the guys sent me a really cheesy poem by text message. I kind of wish I had saved that poem because it was so cheesy that it was hilarious. The basic jist was that he was my “true friend” and so he thought of me at all hours of the day. And then it ended with “Good noon!” Being the oblivious person that I am, I was pretty puzzled by the poem and just assumed that he had sent it to all of his friends, but that wasn’t actually the case. Anyway, I definitely didn’t read into it, but I did think it was a funny poem to send out. Too bad I nytimes.com wasn’t my home page back then to clue me in.

A Quote

rd — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 04:55:31 +0000

“A photo says, You were so happy and I wanted to catch that. A photo says, You were so important to me that I put down everything else to come watch.” ~ From Jodi Piccoult’s My Sister’s Keeper

Some observations

rd — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 04:52:46 +0000

An extra four hours can make such a huge difference. Cookies at the library cafe just aren’t as good as they used to be. Maybe that is God’s way of telling me that I should not be eating them. After a certain point in the year (i.e. February), it is no longer fun when it snows outside. Even if it means classes are canceled. I don’t want to go take pictures again or have another snowball fight. I just want to stop wearing my coat and hat. Is that too much to ask? I was really upset when the groundhog saw his shadow this year. And I am really upset that we have freezing temperatures the week before Spring Break. Especially because I am not going anywhere warm. I am just going home. There is so much going on this week, but I don’t have time to partake in any of it because all of my professors assigned work or a midterm.

**I wrote this in March, and I guess I never posted it. I’m posting it now because it makes me laugh, now that I am a college graduate, living in the real world of unemployment.

You Rock My World

rd — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 04:32:06 +0000

On June 25, Michael Jackson, the king of pop, passed away. It caused a big media frenzy, and the entertainment news programs still feature a segment on him every night. It got to the point where some people got angry that we were so focused on a dead celebrity when there was so much other newsworthy stuff going on in the world.

My thoughts:

First of all, I was disappointed in the people, especially my facebook friends, who were “tired” of hearing about MJ and who cracked cruel jokes in the wake of his death. A man died. Maybe he was not actually a part of your family or mine. But he was a cultural icon for decades, and he reached a lot of people’s ears and hearts. He may as well have belonged to the millions of families in whose homes his music played for so many years. People were heartbroken that he passed so suddenly and so mysteriously. The extensive media coverage was a method of mourning, so I think it was totally warranted.

That all said, I actually did not watch MJ’s memorial service. I saw all of the clips that were replayed later, but I celebrated his life by listening to his music. The thing is, I was born at the height of his career, but most of his music is fairly new to me because my parents never really bought cassettes or CDs. We did purchase a copy of Thriller a few years ago, but I didn’t buy The Essential Michael Jackson until a month ago. I discovered a number of his older hits after his death. But on July 26, I got to visit his star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

Michael Jackson, I will forever remember you for your immense contribution to music.

Blog-arrhea

rd — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 04:08:00 +0000

Soooo, hello.

I know I haven’t written anything in over two months. Well, actually, that is a lie. I’ve written several stubs of posts. But I haven’t bothered to expand on any of them or post a single thing. Sorry. Life happens. I still don’t really feel like writing a lot about these things, but they are all on varied topics, so I will just post my stubby stubs for your viewing pleasure. Maybe I will go back and edit them later.

Virtual hugs,