Unnecessary acks

Some stuff I found. Not sure how long ago I wrote this.

For giving me an excuse to sing out loud: Queen
For giving me an anthem: John Lennon
For always listening to whisperings: Pepe, the paranoid parakeet
For holding open the door to life before and after me: The Beatles, The Jetsons
For keeping alive a spark of religiosity, no matter how shamelessly small or elusive: Mother
For the sound of romance in spite of today: Norah
For being an ideal, not a stereotype: Dad
For giving me something I can rock out to when there’s nothing left: Metallica
For letting me be a kid: Superman, Hanson
For letting me grow up: Bon Jovi, The Spice Girls (yes, it’s true)
For the hotness: Jennifer Connelly
For existing: Zooey Deschanel
For tears: Forrest Gump
For a life bound in music: Millions of unknowingly generous users on the World Wide Web
For proving to me that life’s a female dog: You know who you are
For grounding: Friends four
For being a dork: Richie Cunningham
For not kicking my ass: Nan, when I walked in on her in the bathroom; Uncle Norbert, when I walked in on him in the bathroom
For keeping me out of showers for a *very* long time: Jaws (no thanks for that)
For cool: The Rock, No Doubt, Fonzie
For my first read: Oliver Twist
For one free drink: Steve the bartender
For just happening: The 80s, The 90s
For the funk: Prodigy
For being way more awesome than “Friends”: Seinfeld
For pampering: My first 9 schoolteachers
For looking up to me: Rucha

Floyd: Nice choice of pictures. The last one may have been questionable; this one makes the entire page completely gay!


“If I had to choose her or the sun, I’d be one nocturnal son of a gun”

Kelly Clarkson – My Life Would Suck Without You
Jason Mraz – I Melt With You

Seriously.

Dammit February, you’ve screwed me over with your 28-day fashion. By the time I’d realized the month was out, I didn’t have anything ready to post. So I may try to make it up this month; or I may not. Whatever.

I’ve done it so many times now, that the “airport post” has become quite predictable. I can’t help it though, because I generally have an unreasonably long wait at every major airport I visit, so I see stuff and save my thoughts for a more composed expression that is NOT a Tweet.
Airports are quite predictable too. And by airports, I don’t mean just the airports themselves, but the people inside them as well. There are the families who try to enjoy the whole experience and count the airport wait as part of their vacation fun, and the families who can’t keep the kids in control and end up cursing the vacation before it even starts. Then you have your casual travelers who generally have their MP3 players out with some light reading and a snack, distancing themselves from the rest of the world till their boarding gate opens, followed by the newly-baptised/try-too-hard IT professionals who, in an attempt to blend in, will always appear with their Grishams and Coelhos in hand and a notebook case in tow, not to forget the mandatory cup of gourmet coffee and the overdone outfit. And finally, the seasoned travelers, who, whether they’re out for business or pleasure, always know how to best utilise their time without having to turn to music and/or fiction.

I didn’t think I’d be seeing Heathrow so soon again, but that’s how it happened. Out of boredom, I tried to look at a different dimension this time around… Oh the boots! I love ‘em in all shapes and sizes. I worked out that a good pair of boots could move a girl up from plain average to attractive. But, the wait was long and owing to the fairly large difference in time zones from when I got onto the airplane and when I stepped off it, it wasn’t long before my eyes began to roll back in their sockets and mysterious but hot women came floating by to ask me hot but mysterious questions like Haven’t you been chewing that gum far too long? and Try on my underwear?

Switching topics, so many movies (read: Romantic Comedies) show the guy who dates this rebound chick after he loses the main lady in his life, who is in fact so hot AND so well rounded that losing her is probably the greatest sin on earth that should actually leave him depressed for life. But the world keeps turning and so he decides to get back into the dating scene and looks for the shallow women who can keep him amused so that he doesn’t need to think of what he recently lost. Inevitably, he runs into his ex-lady love at just the place they shouldn’t have met, after which one or both of them remembers that they were so good together and they were fools to ever let each other go. Here’s where our boy unceremoniously dumps the new girl with a condescending hug and smile as if to say you’re a helluva lay, but you don’t stimulate me intellectually. But don’t worry, it’s not your fault you’re a boob.
Did it ever occur to him, or anyone else for that matter, that the reason this chick seemed so shallow could have been because that was exactly how every guy she’d been with treated her, without allowing her a chance to exhibit anything more than her physical talents (if at all)?

Freaky moment of the year: I was downloading David Bowie’s Major Tom (or Space Oddity, if you want to call it that) when Winamp pulled up Peter Schilling’s Major Tom at the exact moment the download began. And the preceding song? Tom’s Diner (DNA/Suzanne Vega).

“I’ve got two tickets to Iron Maiden, baby
Come with me Friday, don’t say maybe…”


Crowded House – Don’t Dream It’s Over
The Subways – Rock ‘N Roll Queen