The Sound of Music

Since I do not wish to take the time to check my analog wristwatch for the time, I will go by my phone's [potentially more accurate] estimate that I have two hours and 17 minutes til I turn 17.

In the larger scheme of my life, 17 does not seem monumental. It lacks the saccharinity [that's a word! Well Safari doesn't mark it as misspelled!] of 16, and the scary legality of 18. I can legally do magic outside of school, but not much else.

In reality, though, 17 is pretty damn important. It's my last birthday in high school. My last birthday among all the friends I've grown up with– well, since fifth grade. I am sadly not really in touch with anyone from Culver, save on Facebook, which really doesn't count but enables them to read this should they choose to do so. What's up?!

18 has this sense of being the first nail in your coffin, even though you're still young and in college [most likely. In high school, actually, for most people]. Sixteen is the perfect age to capture youth. 17 just middles along, not young, not old. Like Britney Spears in "Crossroads!" I think.

There were certain things I wanted to accomplish before my seventeenth birthday, and it didn't really work out. However, they were rather trivial, so it's not too horrid. Maybe I can just knock 'em out by the end of the actual year.

Senior year will probably be one of the more memorable years of my life and I'll be 17 for the duration of it. I had more to say, but now I'm blanking. This is what old age gets you!

I'm young though!

I think my biggest regret this year was failing to see "The Sound of Music" once.

I am 16, going on 17...

Where did our love go?

Hello. Hello!

Love=blog...by the way.

Personal post time! Senior year is different. The work isn't harder, it isn't easier, either, but there's this big, sharp, shiny axe swinging over our heads like one of those oh-so-easily escapable scenes from a James Bond movie. In less than a month, early apps are due. In less than two months, state university apps are due. In three months or so, everything else is due. This is serious business. We can't just bullshit our way to an A, this is college! This is madness. But we haven't gone Spartan. Yet.

Ooh, every time I come up with what would be a killer ending line, like the last one, I have more to say.

My desk is buried under envelopes and flyers and brochures and postcards and..nail clippers. The last thing aside, the whole college thing is chomping down on my life.

I go to sleep. Dream. I get into my top school! Wake up deliriously happy and then...crash. Nope. I go to sleep. Dream. I get rejected from my top school! And a lot of other places. Wake up in despair, gasping and then...oh. Still too early for that one.

What happened to dreams of archeological digs and underground treasure hunts, etcetera. They were a bit random, but they were cool! This current situation is rather annoying.

And then! The college essay thing. Or rather, the [37] college essay[s] thing. Everything is viewed through that lens. "Ooh, this lisptick doesn't match my eyebrows! Could I possibly extrapolate this into some symbolic brilliant essay?" or "Ooh, I brushed my teeth! Let's examine these intricacies" or "Ooh I met Al Gore in third grade at Samy's Camera. Story time!" I'm not dragging on anyone's potential essay. Some people have the gift of taking something mundane or seemingly insignificant and transforming it into brilliance. I, for one, need to be in a strange mood at a strange time to write well without wanting to tear my hair out. I don't know what my final essay[s] will definitely be on. I may need to bite my tongue.

The other thing is, it is extremely inconvenient to have a birthday in October this year. Or at least, it is extremely inconvenient to have a birthday in October this year if you are me.

This is my last birthday in high school [it's on Tuesday if you, ahem, were wondering] and though I am only turning 17, NOT 18, I wanted it to be special! I wanted to have a proper, return-to-somehow-epic "party" [I use that term in the loosest sense] with a guest list that would read something like "eh forget it, let's just invite 'em." But. My lack of prior planning has led to absolutely zero plans, two days away from my actual birthday. And all the Saturdays this month are wonky. Plus, everyone's frantically trying to finish their early apps. Boohoo.

In retrospect, this post seems like one looooong whiiiiine. But do not interpret it so! This is just a not-so-soothing meditation on the process. I'm excited for the future. Browsing websites for programs is actually really fun, because if I get in, I have a loooot to look forward to. Just realized that could be read as "loot." Ha.

The bit about my birthday might have been whining, though.

Hola

I've managed, for the most part, to banish thoughts of this blog, lest I become overcome with guilt.

I don't have time to write a lengthy post, at the moment, but I'd like to say that machinations are seriously underrated.

Really, I can't wait to be a dictator.

I'm Looking At You, Model UN peeps

In the event that any of you clicked on the link in the signature of my latest [justified] rant...

Go work on your topic synopses and bios! Freshmen are more responsible than you! Yeah, fighting words. You gonna take that? Hmmm, hmm? Don't ignore me!

Seriously, I'm not kidding, do your work.

I know that, on occasion [be nice to me], I can be a little... overly enthusiastic? aggressive? pushy? ab-so-lutely mental about things to do with the club?

I'd like you to know I do this with the purest of intentions. Practicing for world domination, of course. Ordering around freshmen, sophomores, and the occasional junior is definitely the best way to warm up for the day I rule the earth. So is Model UN, for that matter.

I will allow weakness to shine through for a moment [imagine this next bit in a weary, plaintive voice]: I just really, really want this club to succeed. It'd be really amazing if we can build Model UN at Beverly to a decent, competitive program and I would love to know I played a role in that. The club's "executives" have put so much into this and I really have to credit the president-vp team of Donya and Natasha for being so organized and dedicated.

This club is pretty awesome and its members definitely have potential. I actually can't complain too much, because a sizable amount of people do show up every week, respond to my emails, and are genuinely nice, good people. However, would it really kill you to be more on top of things?

As much as I love acting as mini-Zeus and being thought of as a first-class bitch, I'm beginning to lose sight of sweet li'l Mallika who hasn't shown her face since around seventh grade. Or maybe it was fifth. Perhaps you Beverly Hillsians are just terrible influences on me.

*disclaimer: Yeah, if you know me, you'd know with what attitude to approach this post.

The Chains of Change

The title of this post sounds like a nicely pretentious novel or what not. It actually has little relevance to this post, except for the last word.

oooh, I smell cookies!

Anyway, back to the topic. It's come to my attention that a lot of my posts are viewed as forced and slightly pretentious, despite my professing of hate for pretensions. Like with the "'tis" and "'twas" and what not.

And my desperate pleas for comments [coupled with excessive self-deprecation] is said to be pathetic. And I guess I agree. Often, it's meant to be sarcastic or whatever, but it gets old. I kind of don't want to read old posts, because they make me cringe now.

So, from now on, if I need to advertise this blog, I'll post a link. And c'est tout. I won't beg in the actual post itself. Do what you want. Life's good. Yeah.

Comment Harlot Doesn't Quite Have the Same Ring to it

In my defense [defence!], I, the Master of Advertising, did this quite late last night, and I did regret it in the morning. I just chuckled. However, I have decided that I need no defense [defence!] and will now proudly keep it on, in a display of defiance!

Until the tape wears out.

SHOCKER [alt. titled "Shut Up"]

TWO POSTS. ONE DAY. This must be a special day, indeed.

Which brings me to the topic of this post. There's a lot I could say about this topic, but I want to sleep. So I'll make it short.

Today is, if you look at the timestamp, February 14. In the Roman Catholic Church, this is the feast day of St. Valentine. It also falls smack dab in the middle of Lupercalia.

Yes, I do not let things go.

Today, I had the epiphany that "Singles Awareness Day" can be acronymized into "SAD."

[This epiphany factors into my Eleven Embarrassments of February 14, 2011]

There are usually three schools of thought regarding this holiday among the curious species Student highschoolis -erm, lost train of thought- aha!:

• I don't really give a hockey puck. Go Canucks.
• Looooove [Blogger is being a grinch and not letting me form the heart emoticon with excessive '3's. Use your imagination]. Members of this subspecies usually have what anthropologists [Student highschoolis is considered to be human, much to the surprise of Parent Ofteenagera] term a "boyfriend" or "girlfriend" or the politically-correct "significant other."
• VALENTINE'S DAY IS A HORRIBLE, COMMERCIAL WASTE OF TIME. IF YOU REALLY LOVE SOMEONE YOU'LL SHOW THEM 24/7.

My ire is addressed to the last group. Personally, I don't know where I fall. I guess the first.

But what annoys me about the third group is their persistent cynicism. To be blunt, many of these people are kind of bitter. Or pretentious. Or both. And if you fall in the third group, and you're neither of the above, sorry, I guess. But it's annoying. Just let things be. Yeah, candy makes and greeting card companies make a mint of the holiday. Yeah, love should always be present in a relationship. But does the celebration of Valentine's Day personally harm you [please don't lecture me on the fallacy of this argument. You get what I'm saying]? It's kind of sweet. Call me crazy, but there's a special kind of feeling in the air during holidays, for me. Holidays like this one disturb the tedium, lend themselves to talk and special games/activities/what not. And why begrudge the second group of their happiness for no good reason? Sure, sweet gestures may mean more on a random day, as opposed to a dictated one, but so what? Let them deal with it.

I'd like to make clear that I think I have no personal bias. In fact, from a character/history profile, you may have pegged me in the third group. But I'll have you know that I'm actually an optimistic sucker for adorableness [HONESTLY, COUNT THE NUMBER OF 'adorable's IN THE LAST POST AND SEE WHAT I MEAN].

I'm not sure if I clearly made my point in that rambling paragraph. Tell me your thoughts in the comments. I'm desperate! Not unlike some members of the third group, secretly. Whoops. I promised I'd be nice. Scotchmallows and roses, people. Or Bordeaux. Oooh, marzipan.

Oaths...

...are what I uttered when I remembered my vow to post today.

Quickly, then.

My level of excitement today in anticipation of the Jeopardy IBM Challenge verged on the frightening. It was worth it. Alex Trebek is amazing. I want to give Watson a hug, though it may be difficult to get arms around those racks [NO PUN INTENDED. I'm serious.]. But I kinda wanted to punch him in his not-quite-face at certain moments, like during his hot streak. But then his repetition of the incorrect answer of Ken Jennings [still not too clear about possessive apostrophes] was très adorable [French accent required]. I'm on Team Rutter, though. *ahemahemmoustacheahem*

*whistle*

My only complaint was that there seemed to be a dearth of questions [or should we say, answers?] covered today. But they did explain that the Challenge consisted of two games encompassing three days, in order to give more background. So tomorrow shall probably be better on the game front.

It's impossible not to give credit to Alex Trebek, though. He remained [or at least seemed to remain] completely unfazed by the absurdity of Watson-the-contestant. However, he was adorable in his terseness towards Watson [mirroring my feelings]. Why did he shave his moustache?!

*whistle*

Hey, that wasn't too bad. This post didn't take too long. However, I feel it's rather different from my usual content/style. Perhaps that is a good thing.

I'd really like to do one of those multiple-day blogging challenges. You know, like Day 1:Favourite bands, Day 2:Favourite class, Day 3:5 life goals, etc. It'd be a good way to force myself to blog everyday. I know they're usually geared more toward tumblrs [it kills me to omit the 'e'], but they can always be adapted. SO, if anyone has any suggestions for a good challenge OR if anyone would like to devise one for me, it'd be much appreciated. Just inch youor purty little self [totally not creepy] down and COMMENT.

SPEAKING OF COMMENTS- aha! You thought I'd let you off the hook, eh?- I noticed a nice influx of traffic for the last post, even without the benefits of Facebook broadcasting. A nice chunk was directed from the Weekly Squire. I do understand that there was not much commentable about the last post, but nonetheless, there are pwetty little reaction buttons just begging for some attention. Mhm.

Oh, and you're not allowed to not comment on this post.

Get Insquired

weeklysquire.com <----allez!

The Weekly Squire shall be "Keeping P.C. to a Minimum" every Sunday at noon. Follow twitter.com/weeklysquire for updates. There's apparently a Facebook fan page, too.

I wouldn't know for sure, though, because I've temporarily deactivated my lovely timesucker. You all should be glad, for now you don't have to deal with my pleading posts that implore you for comments.

Why am I shamelessly broadcasting yet another site? What investment do I have, you ask? Go to the "Staff" page. Yeah. That girl who looks like a bank robber? Hi. Glorified slave, over here.

Some of you might have been directed here from that staff bio! Greetings, then. Fret not, I do update this blog! Here's proof. Also, be a doll and follow me on Twitter. I don't bite. Just, you know, scratch.

I'd also like to point out that due to my being difficult, I did not write that staff bio. So I can't take credit for its amazingness.

So, please leave your comments and likes on the various awesometastic articles. Plus, the This Week in History is just yearning for some lovin'. Considering it's Lupercalia and all, you know.

Those of you with troubles. Please, let us help. Ask Frank, and he shall deliver frankly. Valentine's Day is coming up, after all.

And don't think this gets you off the hook with commenting on my own blog. WHICH SHALL BE UPDATED TOMORROW. I PROMISE.

I'll leave you with a critique on my writing:

"Even like your editorial– I'm not saying they're bad–but they're very frenetic. It's like you're writing on speed."

-My mother.

Polls

I reopened three of the polls. They shall remain opened until arbitrary times during the 23rd hour of the last day of the year.

DON'T VOTE IF YOU ALREADY HAVE!!!

See Poll-ution

JEANSPAKCMO

I do not know anyone by the name of Jean Spackmo.

Highlights recently travelled to Kansas City, Missouri for the NSPA/JEA Fall Convention.

I really don't feel like going into a whole spiel about the trip; quite frankly, I'm surprised that I could even drag myself to type this paltry amount of words out.

So, bullets for now, perhaps some explorations later. Perhaps.

• We didn't place for Best in Show, but it doesn't really matter because Highlights is the bloody best it's ever been since I've been going to this school, thanks to the redesign by our EICs.
• I now see why Whamboozal is considered epic, even though its spelling goes against all instincts.
• 2010 roommates > 2009 roommates, for a variety of reasons. Nothing personal.
• Kansas City is a really pretty place, with nice people [here's NOT looking at you, Gates BBQ lady, though]. I liked the structure, with the different districts. I wish we had horse carriages.
• The Best Western exceeded all expectations, but the absence of the fabled Chuck left us all heartbroken.
• HOW MAY I HELP YOU?
• Word of advice: don't order soda pop if you notice there's only one size. Two people will not be able to finish one drink.
• Meat≠happiness
• ^^^ I'm okay with not eating any meat ('cept some chicken)- or barbeque for that matter- for a long, looong, loooooooooong time.
• Wtf is up with all the other high schools giving us snobby looks?
• Word of advice: There is such a thing as too much chili pepper in you Mongolian barbeque. Which, incidentally, was probably the best Mongolian barbeque I've ever had.
• Did you know that you actually spell barbeque 'barbecue.' I googled it to make sure my Dashboard dictionary wasn't lying to me.
• Click click? No.
• Cinnamon rolls? Yes.
• Coffee? Not unless you want to have a weird meltdown just before the afternoon awards show.
• Fran's knows it's food. And hot chocolate.

The competition itself was interesting. There were four categories of competition in one room, so it was quite packed; I competed in Editorial Writing.

Everyone else seemed to possess an air of confidence that was in no way exuded by myself. I have no idea if that sentence was grammatically correct. They were all armed with dictionaries and thesauruses [thesauri?]- even bloody tape recorders.

The panel time and subsequent writing period vanished quickly. Some-in the same competition- finished literally ten minutes after the end of questions. There was still a significant amount left, though, when I finished, ten minutes before the time limit.

I felt extremely drained after finishing. I blanched when I first saw the topic, but I felt a bit better after roughly outlining it.

I still didn't feel completely confident, though. The lead was wonky and I wondered if the concluding paragraph wa

s a bit abrupt. Most of all, I was concerned that I hadn't made a clear proposition.

Anyway, everything worked out. I was one of four to win Superior for the category, and I got lovely feedback from t

he judges-the lead was a bit off, but they liked the conclusion.

I was...shocked. And happy- VERY happy, although I guess it took a while to sink in.

In all, there were five winners from our school.

Now we want to place for Best of Show. Watch out, SM Southnortheastnorthwestwestsouth High.

:o

http://dannylicht.com/phlog/photos/12634962

^^Courtesy of

Check out Danny's website too.

"Happy" Guy Fawkes Day, Pt. II

So my friends, it seems as if we have come full circle.

Normally, people tend to reflect on the past year of their life at holidays that are by consensus viewed as significant, like New Year's or a birthday. I, however, choose Guy Fawkes day.

I shall now attempt to remember my life, month by month, in the past year. I do not care if this is profoundly boring for you.

November: Washington, D.C. At the risk of sounding melodramatic [Me? Melodramatic? haha!], a general loss of trust occurred during this month.

December: Did you know that Egg Nog+Pepsi=golden?

January: All I can remember at this point is that I got full marks on my French final. How sad is that? The memory part, not the grade, mind you.

February: The month sans meat. You can read about it. Somewhere. I'm thinking about repeating this. Albeit, when it's not Chinese New Year, so I don't have to go another year without the Firecracker Chicken of Panda Express. Priorities, man.

March: I cannot recall anything specific, but that was the era of "In the Spirit of Full Disclosure," hyperlinked for your convenience.

April: The Friday of empty classes, due to Coachella and Portland JEA. Euro review sessions.

May: AP test! And then God knows what. I discovered "Pan's Labyrinth" was actually brilliant, "The Graduate" ensured that Simon and Garfunkel trotted around my head the whole day, and most appropriately for this date and post, I finally got to see the entirety of "V for Vendetta."

June: A pretty good month. World cup! World cup! World cup! The last week was intensely stressful and very, very bittersweet. Closed out this month in Bombay.

July:Calcutta. In all sincerity, I've realized that a post on my time in Calcutta is ridiculously long overdue. This is one aspect of myself that irritates me to no end.

August: Calcutta, Dehra Dun, Delhi. Family reunions, full houses,c cold coffee, short tempers, psychopathic dogs, there's-never-such-a-thing-as-too-much-Chinese-food, and nail polish.

September: At this point, I hadn't talked to anyone my age, forget people in LA, in two months. I remember brimming with excitement to go to school and get my schedule, which actually ended up being the most glorious 1-6 schedule imaginable. School has a different vibe this year, methinks. But I think it's for the better. I have classes with people I haven't had classes with in years, whilst I have no classes with people who have been in at least one since fifth grade.

October: The busiest month of the year.

November: It's five days old. As for expectations, I can't sense anything about Kansas City next week, which is making me really impatient.

Looking back, I'm disappointed. I turned 16 one month and a day ago. It all happened so fast. There were things, some superficial, some...not, that I wanted to accomplish before I hit that mark. I need to get cracking. I turn 17 in 11 months [holy shit], and as everyone knows that means I can do magic outside of school and am therefore a legal adult.

Poll-ution

I cannot, in good conscience, call the title of the post clever, without going into elaborate tangents and stretching this post, a field that those of you who read my blog would know I'm very proficient in, but currently do not feel like getting into, as I am quite eager to get to the point, as is apparent through this brief sentence.

Let us take a look at the results of the two-month-old polls:

Do you like the changes to the blog? Comment on the post either way.

Seven of you oh-so-kind people voted on the poll. And all for the same option: "Maybe so nah nah nah." Now, I can see why I shouldn't complain about that, as I was the one who allowed it to be an option. However, my beef with you seven [or five, as you shall see] exists because of your failure to read the second part. Yeah! There were only two comments [meaning from two people] on the post about the changes, and only one of them was constructive.

However, if I perhaps quit insulting my readers, they'd do what I told them to do. That sounds sort of evil.

As for How did you find this blog?, I'd just like to know the story behind the "confusion/accident." I know of a couple people who were confused when they found it, but that was because they thought it was someone else's. Which is also an option. So, please tell me!

Choose your favourite[s]:

I have a feeling that one person chose all of them, another just chose darling Cacofonix, and another only chose the Shieldbearers, while a clueless [that is sincerely meant with no offense] fourth was honest enough to admit that they had no idea what I was talking about. Only four people voted on this, while nine voted on another, so I feel as if some of you could have been more honest. And the Shieldbearers were the scrappy underdogs [Not that I'd call Vitalstatix a dog-that's Dogmatix. Get it?!], coming behind from seriously nowhere. Seriously. I'd actually be quite interested in hearing why.

And now for the question that I saved last for a reason...

Due to bit.ly statistics that show clicks from random places...do I know you personally?

I have no friends. Well, two.

That's all I have to say. Oh, and I forgot a family option. Whoops.

I have no bloody friends. Except for two. Hmph.

Seesaw

...is infinitely preferable to teeter-totter.

A teeter-totter sounds like a teetotaler; the latter must keeps his or her balance as to not fall off the wagon.

Yikes, I am weakening!

This reminds me of the matrimonial ads I perused in India. This charmer of a man sought a "tall, fair, slim, beautiful, vegetarian" girl, while he expertly described himself as "tall, very fair, Rajasthani, 40-something, vegetarian, a teetotaler, and morbidly obese."

Points for honesty.

"Teeter-totter" also sounds like "tater-tot," my least favourite form of potato, after waffle fries. I once had the best plate of fish and chips in Sedona, but it was served with waffle fries! So, I resorted to stealing my parents'. That place had very good hot chocolate, as well.

I once got two massive bruises, in the shapes of my fists, from a seesaw. I guess my overgrown thirteen-year-old self kind of deserved that.

It's funny, though. Seesaws start to lose their appeal once you hit a certain height, as they cease to offer thrills. Yet, seesaws begin to strengthen their appeal once you hit a certain age, as you're reminded of the thrills you once got from them, when you were as tall as your bathroom sink, and not now, when the bathroom sink is as tall as your knees.

That is why I favour swings and tires. You can fly high or get really dizzy, take your pick. And then crash into the seesaw.

So, Thoughts?

As you may be able to tell, I changed the template/scheme of this blog. A lot.

I am torn between the old way and the new. Damn it. I should've taken a screenshot before I changed it!

Anyway.

I liked the simple, BLACK-ness of the old format. Images also seemed sharp against it. And it complemented my preferred Courier font.

But, I decided to change it since Blogger came out with a new way to design blogs.

It seems a bit crowded to me. I like the colours, but they're also a drawback. There are a lot, and some have trouble showing up against the various backgrounds. I tried to remedy it to the best of my ability, but I couldn't fix the 'days left to vote/how many votes' underneath the polls without changing the text colours of the whole page.

I might change it back or find a nice compromise. I miss the stark blackness. Either way, however I need to spend a lot more time with the design feature.

Thoughts, suggestions, comments, criticisms, ideas, pro/con lists are demanded! On any aspect of the blog.

And you don't have to be clever, and please please please don't post any comments here that talk about another post. Just do it there. Please, just talk to me about the layout. And vote on the polls. But do both! There's no 'or' option here.

ix

No, not nine.

I changed my display name!

No one, except Blessy ever calls me Mally, so 'twas kind of ridiculous to keep it. And it wasn't aesthetically right.

So, I have changed it. To Mallix.

See, I don't really have a nickname back home. Meaning LA. Meaning given by friends. You see, on the first day of every school year, I completely eagerly anticipate roll call, so I can hear my name mangled and then incorrectly correct the teacher. I tell 'em :"Mallika," the first syllable pronounced like a shopping mall. But in reality, the first syllable is pronounced "mull" like "I mulled it over and decided not to pronounce your name as Malleeeka." Ahem.

I don't bother giving that form of my name [Yes, I've now come to regard my true name as having two forms], as it's really hard for non-at-least-semi-Hindi speakers. People tend to overcompensate and it comes out like "Mule-ika." I'm not an ass, though you may be. I get too happy when I think of insults. Kinda ruins the effect.

The worst is when people correct subs for me, with such a disdainful attitude and like they know me so well. Yeah, it's my own fault that they use this Ikea form of my name [Digression: You know why I said Ikea even though it's not really a mall? Well, in sixth grade we had a sub called Mr. Morrisey. The first thing that greeted us when we walked in was 'The More I See, The More I Like' inscribed on the board. Uh. And then he wasted 20 minutes getting us to write 'clever' phrases to preserve our names in the collective consciousness instead of handing us the thing on Imhotep and Zsosor and the step pyramid that we were supposed to read. And I came up with something horrible like 'The Senator gave a speech next to the mall, Ikea.' But he was right. We never did forget his name]. And I don't mind it, actually, because I'm so used to it and it was of my own choosing. So please! Keep calling me that. My problem is I'm usually annoyed with whoever corrects my name and I usually mumble "I can speak for myself!" Kinda pointless. But you can correct it for me if you know I never get annoyed with you. Just not on the first day. Actually, just disregard this whole roll call business. I sound like a Mule-ika.

ANYWAY, back to the point seventy thousand paragraphs ago. There's not much you can do in terms of nicknames with the Fox Hills/Westfield Culver City version. Mally sounds like Molly. Mall sounds like, well, a mall.

So, that's why I'm broadcasting the version-that-my-parents-named-me form so you can see where my various family-given nicknames are derived from. But I'm not going to list them. But Mallix is one of them.

Pronounce it "Mull-iks."

AND the best part is that it ends in -ix. Like Goscinny and Uderzo's Gauls. I'm an Indomitable Gaul. Like Asterix and Getafix and lil Dogmatix. And let's not forget Cacofonix. 'cept only the men had -ixs, but all the women in the comics were insufferable, so I can be sufferable and thus earn the -ix.

Ironically, the Gaulish women all had names ending in -a.

Sorry, and You Should Be Ashamed

Dear Anonymice et co.,

Aren't I clever?

That's why you read my blog, right?

Unless you read it to scoff at me and my wonderful run on sentences that are absolutely okay because they make sense and are not confusing.

If your reason is the lator, quit PATRONIZING me and get off this sight.

Pffft.

On a more realistic note, since I have abandoned the notion that I should apologize in every post for my writing, I have a very serious message to convey to you. After I apologize for not updating when I say I will. But that's actually what I want to focus on. I've finally bloody updated and now I get no response. You ungrateful gits. Hmph.

With love,

Mallika

Naaah

1750 hrs

Me: We're going to Prithvi Cafe now? Isn't dinner soon?

Sai di: {incredulous expression} Soon?!

Me:...What time do you eat dinner in India?

Sai di: After 8:30?

Well it's worth the wait. It's been 10 months since the end of my last India trip, so I cannot be chastised too severely for forgetting the notion of Indian Standard Time. IST= an hour after what is conventionally normal/stated in invitation. Here follows an example:

-Arre yaar, come over at 8:30 for dinner.

{Show up at 10 pm}

-Ach, you're so early!

So, I'm back from the cafe place and from a 9:30 Italian dinner that ended at 10:45. You get the idea.

I am in India until the beginning of September and thus am able to justifiably renege on my promise to blog regularly to Anonymous on the previous post. Who is not going to love my writing style blah blah blah after this. Yo. My theory is that this person is my relative, most likely my father, as it is quite true that NO ONE reads my blog. Most of my 8 followers probably haven't ventured into this dusty attic of cyberspace in months. Feeling the love, guys.

I've been going to India at least once every year since I was a wee lass. It works out to a trip every 8 months or so. The minimum stay is 6 days, for my cousin-sister's weddings, and the max has been 7 weeks or so. OH I JUST REMEMBERED. IN YOUR FACE TEAM ITALY. HA. A-n-y-way, this trip'll be about 9-10 weeks.

And so two weeks after writing the above, lemme finish. I go on the computer every two days. I need to post something because there is a dearth of posts on this blog. So either tomorrow, since it is the weekend, or Monday, I shall write a lovely post about my adventures in Bombay NOT MUMBAI AS YOU WOULD KNOW IF YOU ARE A DEVOTED FOLLOWER. I know you're out there. Somewhere.

And I am now- well, in 2.5 hrs- going to watch the Germany-Uruguay match which is at bloody midnight. Which Germany will win. Because they're 'mazing. And because Muller {what the hell I can't find the bloody umlaut thing}is awesometastic and will definitely win the Best Young Play thingamagigy and Klose needs to beat Brazilian Ronaldo who had traumatizing teeth. Actually, the whole German starting XI is pretty awesome. I memorized them for fun. I have strange definitions.

ANYWAY, check out : twitter.com/modernoddity for my #badklosepuns tag which failed horribly. Yes, I'm slightly less ashamed of my twitter feed now. Slightly. And by the way, my apologies go out to my friend who was included in all the subsequent replies to my call for help with the tag due to the 'reply all' feature.

D-d-dare I say/I miss LA?

Technical Difficulties

The editing could certainly use some work. Twas just an experiment.

Of course I didn't write when I promised. But this time 'twas only two days off the proposed date. Progress, eh?

I have decided I shall blame this "radio" silence on my wonderfully spazzy computer. As with everything, there is a looong story behind this, which I shall attempt to coherently tell...after informing you that my writing style is converging to a hybrid state of conversational-like/way too formal so...I don't know what that point of that is. I'm also going to quit apologizing for writing quality. If you like it, you like it. If you don't...I don't like you! There! It's probably getting annoying for y'all to consistently read stupid apologies, so yup. Now to the story...

It all started on Tuesday, which I spent at home, properly sick for the first time in years. In the spirit of mundanity, let me tell you that I woke up while first period was still in progress, so way too early in my opinion. I watched way too much NBC programming, catching up on the Thursday night comedies I missed because I was studying for the APs. Well only one [hm, maybe a post later?].

Then, I felt like listening to music. But listening to it properly. Which means, good music, whole album, pure, etcetera.

I go through phases in music, but they all centre around genres of rock. Last year was my Queen and U2 phase. You should know that I never abandon an artist, as demonstrated through my attachment to ABBA, courtesy of my seven-year-old self. So I still think that Freddie Mercury and Bono are two of the greatest vocalists ever.

And the Edge is awesome and don't you dare disagree.

But lately, I've been leaning towards psychedelic/prog rock [By progressive rock I mean like the space-y, canvas-y kind]. So I decided to spend my day making YouTube playlists of Pink Floyd albums, using mon ami Wikipedia. Out of the legit albums [i.e., not Greatest Hits], I have only 'Wish You Were Here' and 'Dark Side of the Moon.'

So I made playlists for three albums I didn't have[and I'm going to quit talking about the music because I could go on], and was enjoying myself delaying my term paper very much until a little more than halfway through 'The Wall' my computer decided to rebel. The first sign of trouble came in the form of a new tab in Safari every time I clicked on something. Then when I clicked on the iChat icon in the dock, it opened up its folder in Applications. This happened with every app. So I restarted my computer. Then strange things happened with my login screen which I'm getting bored recounting. It took a goof thirty minutes, but I thought I fixed the problem with my amazing skills [I'm not joking, I've fixed everything else before]. Until it happened again a couple of hours later.

The funny part was that these tech problems forced me to pay attention to my research paper, so it was, in a way, a boon.

Until it refused to work properly for the next few days. Then, my father took matters in to his own hands and now dear old Macky's workin' just dandy. Please cross your fingers. After all, if this becomes uncooperative again, you wouldn't be able to read new posts by yours truly. And that would just be a shame.

Inspired?

I have found that it's hard to start at the beginning for anything, be it post titles or article ledes. I like that spelling.

And, subsequently, the beginning of blog posts, itself. If you are reading this for the first time, or even if you're not, you should know that I have the tendency to digress and meander. That might not seem like a good thing, but it entertains me when I reread these. I'm also stating this because I shall not write "I digress" each time now, unless 'tis for 'dramatic' effect. Nor shall I try and explain everything. See sidebar, cryptic > obvious.

I would also like to apologize [I am such a fake. A poseur *gasp* even(read other posts to comprehend the full horror of this statement). I have previously stated my affinity for the Queen's English, yet I spelled 'apologize' as 'apologize' as opposed to 'apologise'] for the currently less-than-stellar [as evidenced by that whole spiel [sp?] in brackets] writing.

Searching through old drafts, I found this gem of a post from late January, which I've decided to attempt to expand. The new stuff starts after this brief interlude.

Anyway... You know here's the other thing. People often [and dude, what's up with saying 'ofTen' instead of 'offin'] say "anyways" instead of "anyway." I'm guilty of this offense as well, but when you think about it it makes no sense to pluralize it. 'Way' refers to 'path,' so it's like if you were to say "Oh, Marion, whichever ways you choose you're never going to end up with a stupid name like John." But that makes no sense. Because young Marion chose a WAY, and ditched his name, which, by the way is my awesome fifth grade teacher's name, in favour of the supposedly manlier 'John Wayne' and see how his life turned out! He has an airport in Orange County named after him!

What was I saying?

See kids, this is why you don't drink black coffee during fifth period, let it cool to much, try and add brown sugar, and then allow Splenda packets to be within the reach of certain people who will pour more than a few into said drink. Yech.

P.S. Honestly. Expect a post tomorrow. Actually, a few. Or on Friday.