actuality.log

Maybe not, but it sure is easier on me.

Here’s “Haloed clock tower”, as a sort of peace offering.

It’s like, if you were pretty much silent wrt her, you’ve got to be silent to the world. That’s just the way it has to be.

Good night.

Ahh yes, what’s the fun having new housemates if you can’t crib about them? Life, in the past few days, has undergone a lot of changes. For one, I don’t live alone anymore. I now have not one, but two other housemates. And it’s beginning to bother me to no end already. You know things aren’t getting off to a great start when your first conversation goes something like so,

They: [ Insert vague blur I claim not to understand. ]
Me: *Blank stare* (yes, Oscar-worthily faked)
They: So, you don’t speak the Hindi?
Me: No, I don’t respond in Hindi.
They: Oh, so you can’t the respond in the Hindi.
Me: No, I don’t respond in Hindi.
They: the Why?!?
Me: [ Expletives deleted for the sake of the children. ]

Ok, not to make any sweeping generalizations or anything, but what’s up with northies and their oh-so-annoyingly-frequent theing? I mean, COME ON. And the accents.. “Can I use your [ blur ]”. I’m like, “Umm.. sure” and hope desperately they aren’t asking for some clothing of mine or some such. But then again, at least that’s ok, considering they ASKED permission. Or so I thought. Within a little bit that stopped also. Do whatever, we’re close to him, he won’t mind.

Yeah, right.

They: Are you looking for shoes?
Me: Huh? What’s with the stupid question? Umm.. no?
They: No, it’s just, we were using your computer earlier and ..
Me: WHAT THE?!?
They: And you had a browser window open with a shoe in it.
Me: *Gives up, shrugs, nods*

(Note to self, never leave windows open with any content that could probably be embarrassing, unlike shoes. I can see it now,

They: Are you looking for mail order brides from Russia?
Me: It’s a freaking popup I didn’t request for you fools.
They: Oh, but we just thought..
Me: Oh, brother.)

And there is a reason there’s a bathroom attached to your bedroom. It’s so that YOU USE IT and not mine you insensitive clods.

Now, the bigger generalizations. What’s with Indians and taking arbitrary liberties? Why do they just assume they can do whatever and you’ll be ok with it? But, I the kind and benevolent mentor sorts, realize they’re new here and just need a hand. I’ve been spending most of my days showing them around, showing them essential places, getting them stuff they probably need to be comfortable, and being all smiley and helpful.

It’s like being a mom, without the ova producing capabilities.

But the best thing that’s come out of taking these kids around buying them the essentials, is that a lot of pretty things have caught my fancy. Yes, I’m talking paintings and wall hangings and the sorts of things that make a space shift from seeming like a “house”, to a “home”. I’m making this huge list of things now, which I will eventually buy and populate my new home.

I can’t believe I’m so excited thinking about it. That’s it, I’m ending up aiming for the ever elusive “perfect apartment”.

It’s like being Big (from Sex and the City?) except not rich, powerful or sexy.

(I’m middle aged, balding, and bellied. Not yet, but probably will be in 15-20 years. You’ve been warned, you stalker-who-turn-admirer sorts.)

And the sweetest thing happened a short while ago when I was out to grab a bite to eat. This sweet old lady in front of me was having some trouble with the cashier lady (who was pretty rude and inconsiderate. Actually, she was pretty, rude and inconsiderate, but that’s a different story). Either she wasn’t carrying enough money to pay, or was taking too much time to find it in her purse (I probably meant sweet old old lady). So I cut in front of her (much to her initial chagrin) and payed for her before she had a chance to realize what was going on and could refuse. Once she got it, she was all, god bless you child and had the hugest smile. People ought to be nice to sweet old ladies (and men, and young people too). It was pretty sweet, and I felt all do-goody.

It’s like being a super hero, without superpowers.

(Ok, annoying roomie two just entered my room and isn’t leaving, so I must go. I think he wants my computer to watch a movie, which he’s rummaged from my DVD collection. Without permission, of course. No NO.. THAT’S MY BED.. ARGGH. God damnit!)

For the past couple of days, I’ve been carrying around the camera I got for my dad instead of my usual trusty one. It started off as a need to test it, as I figured I might as well catch any obvious problems here. I soon realized how simple it really is to use. It’s amazingly quick also – from the time you see something, take it out of the pouch, turn it on, and shoot. In all of this, I was under the impression that at least “the pictures that this will capture won’t be as good”. Or something like that, seemingly justifying to myself the price tag for the lenses and other equipment expended so far. But that isn’t really the case either. This, for example, is a point-and-click shot I took during my walk home last evening.

Clickey clickey

Maybe it does have more to do with the photographer than the camera. Then again, maybe it’s more to do with what’s being photographed than the photographer.

Update: For those less inclined to notice such things, notice there are subtle drop shadows beginning to appear around all recent pictures. It is a bit more work per pic, but I do plan to keep this up for a while. Even a simplistic ‘frame’ like this seems to add to it somehow, you know?

I was pleasantly surprised to see this in my email inbox this morning.

“May I use parts of your online diary in an English lesson here in Germany? Especially this day’s entry might be a good reason to start a discussion.”

The person had come across a post in my wordpress trial site, and left me this as a comment. The cool part here is, the web log system was smart enough to figure I wouldn’t be going through old posts to check for comments, and decided to mail it to me.

Unfortunately, being the slacker that I am, this main journal is still on ancient technology, so none of such niceties will work here. So if someone new (or not very new) has something to say to me, please email it to me if the post you’re referring to is “old”. And by “old”, I mean not on the front page. Thanks.

Oh, and before I forget the point of this exercise, welcome those who are being forced to read this as part of your lesson. Though there’s a high probability some of you will consequently have negative connotations attached to the experience, I’m really not a bad person.

Update: This probably defeats the purpose, and there’s a good chance I’m all wrong, aber Ich spreche ein bisschen Deutsch und Ich begr��e Sie.

Tch�ss.

Maybe I should attend more than extremely basic German class sometime.

Continuing with the coffee shop theme, here’s my totally healthy breakfast this morning. I feel so alive and active when I eat healthy, and I can hear my heart thanking me for it. It’s so good to know I’m not dying young with a heart attack.

Yes, it’s technically breakfast this morning even if I did have it only at 3:45 in the afternoon.

This arrived in my inbox a short while ago.

<mindlessdrone>
Muuusstt buuuyyy peeenniiss ennnlaarrggeeemmeennt pilll.
</mindlessdrone>

Or whatever else is being sold, from whoever it is that’s selling it.

Sheesh.

I was talking to H a while ago and kept (proudly?) harping on the fact that I wasn’t out of “study mode” completely. That I now quite enjoyed locking myself up all alone trying to read. He listens all patiently, and points to his computer reminding me of our friend article. When I had to study, I spent many a sleepless night on the code. Now that I don’t have to, and the code’s all I have to work on, I study.

Everyone knows everything and I am beyond predictable. Just great.

And the girl in the coffee shop (where I’ve pretty much drunk everything but, and hang out) is quitting smoking a day after her birthday. Why is that even remotely interesting and/or relevant? It isn’t. It was just cute to see how excited someone can be running around all “happy like”.

Maybe I should induce some pseudo-addiction, and quit after 11 years, just to experience this sort of rush.

Or maybe I’m just stupid and have waaay too much time on my hands.

I need to run in a bit, so I’ll make this quick. And by run I don’t mean run, but get back to work, of course. I now have a new housemate.

Let’s see, he’s
a he,
a geographer (betchya haven’t met one for real, have you?),
a neatness freak (which is amazingly awesome, I might add),
an elaborate cook,
vegetarian ,
got this Canadian lady that babies him,
not a smoker.

But, he’s Telugu.

Yes, I said “but”. Sue me.

And, ask (beg) and ye shall receive. Thanks to Anitha‘s generosity I now have a gmail account. Which is cool why? It just is.

Maybe I should give up all this education nonsense and become a professional beggar, you know, the dude who pretends to be homeless but has this cool stash powered by generous folk hidden away somewhere.

I think it’s finally dawned on me that I’m going home. And I must say I am beginning to get all excited. Which is pretty cool. It just takes a little to stop focussing on who you aren’t going to see, to realize the gazillion other people who you’re going to.

Which is pretty cool, even by my asocial standards. I cannot wait to babied again. Ah, how I miss that. I can’t wait to get back to a state where I feel everything’s taken care of and everyone’s familiar. Are some people forever destined to be big babies who neeeeed, well, babying?

Rhetorical question, don’t think too hard.

Curiously, I pack just like my mom. I’ve, for now, planned on taking just the one suitcase. Considering my freaking path involves first entering the country in Bombay (since Madras is a village?) and I need to go through weirdness like customs, shift airports, and other such general nonsense there. (It feels unnatural to not take a cheap shot at Hindi right about now, but I will be the bigger man.) I figured I’d carry the essentials. Where ‘essentials’ means stuff for everyone else. Anyway, back to packing. This suitcase just lies there open in the corner, and has been there for over a couple of months. Everytime I pick up something that seems interesting, I drop it in, and voila, when the time comes, I’m done. Well, in theory anyway.

Currently, all I’ve got is food and electronics, and it’s full. Forget clothes and so on, we buy them there I suppose.

Of course, I have some “enhancements” over the mom method. I have this huge list of people, and note down who I got what, and that functions as the TODO shopping list for those whose stash is smaller than others in the same “league”. Simple, elegant and rational.

It has to be a science.

Except it’s not classy.

I might as well get all these out of the way, because I’m the kind of person you’d refer to as “quite shameless”. So, roughly in order of desperation,

1. I would like a gmail account invitation. I don’t think it’s particularly fair that google offers blogger users free blogging (and auxiliary services) and an email account with a huge inbox. I’ve “had” a blogger account for a lot longer than most people, but I’ve never used it. Consequently, I’ve not been one of the “regular users” worthy of an account. I must say for a week I did try spamming that account, but google was too smart for me to get fooled.

So if you can’t see the desperation in my eyes (yes I am a geek), I’ll just say it exists. If you’re a regular gmail user and have an invite to spare, please remember less fortunate folk exist.

2. If you haven’t noticed yet, I now have a “donate button” on the menu on the left. So here’s the spiel that goes along with that:

You know you want to click it and send me love. Kids, if your mommy doesn’t give you 5 dollars to give to website maintainer man, she doesn’t really love you.

No portion (no, not even 2.34%) of what I make from this goes to support unicef or anything else truly worthy. However, you do realize I could have easily come up with a break-your-heart “But can’t you imagine our cute little bald Timmy smiling after intensive (and expensive) chemotherapy (which you helped pay for)?” sort of story if I reeeally wanted to, don’t you?

Do not make me go down that road. Conning people to make a living is not what i do, usually.

Bandwidth costs money. I lost my ‘will work for bandwidth’ enthusiasm a long time ago. So if you like what you see, and would like to see more of it, help me keep it up.

You are kind, generous, and have positively delightful taste.

3. Ok, if that’s not your thing either, you will notice I have a “my wishlist” button too on a menu over there. If you’re feeling generous, but aren’t too keen on throwing money at me, maybe you’d be more open to the idea of buying me something.

Wouldn’t you care to see me smile?

No, I didn’t think so either, but it was worth a shot.

There aren’t too many reasons I fail to update this thing. Either there’s “too much going on which I’d rather not talk about”, or there’s “nothing going on and I’d rather not further bore anyone”, and then there’s the “I’m getting my daily release elsewhere”.

It doesn’t matter why, I’m just not really in the “share details of my day here” frame of mind. To make matters worse, I’m still stuck in some sort of post-quals-slump and areas of my life (which weren’t exactly rip-roaringly active anyway) have grinded to a complete halt. Not happening.

I figured I was going about the mom-gift-buying thing entirely wrong. I was aiming for thoughtful/personal, practical/useful, not el cheaponess all in one magic item. The moment I thought a little outside the box, the ideas came flooding in. Now all that’s left is the actual implementation.

That’s about it.

I feel fishing horrid.

I am deficient. And it’s not something that can be cured by some stupid vitamin deficiency pill. Who’s to say what’s important in this world? Who’s to say what’s the appropriate ‘testing mechanism’ to quantify how ‘good’ you are in all those regards? If you haven’t really experienced someone, would you even see their score card? So what if you don’t measure up to other better players on the score card? Does that mean you’re automatically destined to a life of mediocrity and unhappiness? What sort of lame system is that.

We don’t arbitrarily pick out the dumb kids and throw them out of school telling them they’d forever amount to less now do we? We observe them better, spend more time with them, help them out and soon, they’re having all the opportunities and experiences everyone else has. Why does this have to be the case in aspects that don’t really affect me, but have to be a lot more stern in areas I can’t easily handle myself?

God damn it. I was bordering on normal-to-happy just a few hours ago. What did I do to deserve this constantly happening to me? I’m a decent person. I don’t harm anything or anyone. Shouldn’t there be some sort of rule against being hurt?

Maybe it’s a guy hormone thing. Who knows?

NP. Led Zeppelin – The Best of

There are some things that bother me about shows like queer eye for the straight guy. I mean, just what do these guys know that normal people do not? (apart from the 73 grades of table cloth and the appropriate occassion for each’s use, I mean). Every single time they get to “transform” a guy with just a little more hair than normal, they say something akin to “women want their men looking like men” and chop it off in a jiffy. Is a gay guy the first person you’d go to for ‘advice’ on what women want? Sheesh.

Take this:

And if you don’t shut up, I’ll do something even more drastic, like this:

Don’t ask me what’s it with the colours. It’s from one of the many abandoned projects at confused times.

I know they can’t hear me smartypants. I just needed to let this out.

Vaguely related, I decided to propose a change to the style used for the gimp wiki. See how it looked, and how it does currently. I think it’s pretty subtle and professional if I do say so myself.

You have to watch this. For the lower-bandwidth skeptics among the crowd, you have my word that this is totally worth your download time. Honest. Now enough, here’s what I am talking about.

Click me to laugh. [ ~1.65 MB ]

No one’s saying anything about whether I agree with what’s being said on the video or anything like that. It’s just funny.

The fountain on north campus taken lying down amongst some plants somewhere.

Fountains are perty.