Death.
It's pissing off.
It really is.
You put in a lifetime of effort living a damn life, and you don't even get to get out of it alive. I know. That's what the cycle of life is all about. But is it really a sorted concept? Shouldn't each individual on the planet get to live an equally charmed or rather satisfactory life?
Personally, i genuinely believe that one dies only when one is completely and purely gratified by one's life. It's an end of an era. So only when one has finished each and every act of love, hatred and all that comes in between, does one die. That is the cycle of life for me. You are put on the planet to carry forward an assigned job and your part ends when you've fulfilled each cranny of that role to the best of your abilities. Yes. Extremely Shakespeare.
These last few days, however, my belief stands a little shaken.
I cannot face deaths anymore. I have had my share of the agonizing pain that death brings along to all the people remotely associated with the dearly departed. Some people don't deserve death.
Not yet, anyway.
Death is too strong a word. I find it a little funny when they say that someone's gone to a better place and how they're finally in peace. Who knows that for sure, you know? Shouldn't one be destined to make the most of it while they're still here?
Okay.I don't know how any of this makes any sense to anyone. But it does. To me.
My point being, after Ryan's demise (RIP, you), i just never acknowledged the idea of someone else's possible death. Someone's death that might affect me. Someone's death i might shed almost as many tears for as i did for Ryan.
Maybe i am overreacting. I hope i am overreacting.
She must live. She will. She has reasons to live, she has roles to play.
Maybe meeting me is one of the things that figures in the universe's plan of 'things she must do before she quits being an earthling'.
One can only hope.
Yes. It's pissing off. This feeling of helplessness. This feeling of death and how she might be growing near... for yourself. and for the people you know.and for the people you like. and for the people you love...
Friday, July 16, 2010
Sometimes title-less things are so much cooler.
So, starting today, i am going to be blogging every most days.
Blog post frequency is going to reach a new high super duper soon.
Promise to self.:)
Anyway,
i was just randomly wondering how giving a name/title to any form of your work is hard. really really hard. it has to be short, it must hint at all the things that particular piece is about; and don't even get me started on the pressures of having a catchy title cause let's face it we're judging books by the cover all the time. Speaking of titles, the newest addition to my list of over 1500books that i am going to read before i die is 'A Book Without A Title'- George Jean Nathan. no, it never made any history or even much money for that matter. but there's something about the title that tells me it deserves another chance by someone. maybe by me.
as surprising as it may be, i am not much of a reader. i don't like reading. and i truly regret it. my desire to own these books, some common and some not, is almost as if to own them for the sake of that one day when i start to enjoy what i want to enjoy; reading. it's twisted, yes.
coming back to 'A Book Without A Title', the critics tore it apart.'Not as profound as the author would like it to be.', said one. my point being, how can you critique any piece of art work professionally? doesn't it boil down to one's personal preferences, background, sex etc? it's just unfair, if you ask me. i don't see who's given them that right of sabotaging the vision of an artist, a dream catcher he may be.sigh.
i watched the movie 'udaan' today. i don't know how any other word but brilliance can come even close to defining it. in two hours they captured what was almost parts of my own life. a must watch. for anything human.
here's to good indian cinema, the freedom to go title-less (and name-less in the process) every once in a while and most importantly to the fact that i might die of hunger right about now...
food...
foo...
fo..
f.
sigh sigh sigh.
Blog post frequency is going to reach a new high super duper soon.
Promise to self.:)
Anyway,
i was just randomly wondering how giving a name/title to any form of your work is hard. really really hard. it has to be short, it must hint at all the things that particular piece is about; and don't even get me started on the pressures of having a catchy title cause let's face it we're judging books by the cover all the time. Speaking of titles, the newest addition to my list of over 1500books that i am going to read before i die is 'A Book Without A Title'- George Jean Nathan. no, it never made any history or even much money for that matter. but there's something about the title that tells me it deserves another chance by someone. maybe by me.
as surprising as it may be, i am not much of a reader. i don't like reading. and i truly regret it. my desire to own these books, some common and some not, is almost as if to own them for the sake of that one day when i start to enjoy what i want to enjoy; reading. it's twisted, yes.
coming back to 'A Book Without A Title', the critics tore it apart.'Not as profound as the author would like it to be.', said one. my point being, how can you critique any piece of art work professionally? doesn't it boil down to one's personal preferences, background, sex etc? it's just unfair, if you ask me. i don't see who's given them that right of sabotaging the vision of an artist, a dream catcher he may be.sigh.
i watched the movie 'udaan' today. i don't know how any other word but brilliance can come even close to defining it. in two hours they captured what was almost parts of my own life. a must watch. for anything human.
here's to good indian cinema, the freedom to go title-less (and name-less in the process) every once in a while and most importantly to the fact that i might die of hunger right about now...
food...
foo...
fo..
f.
sigh sigh sigh.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
A Letter Of Love
Every time someone miss pronounces a word..
Every time someone fucks up their grammar..
Every time someone tries to act cool..
Every time someone shows off..
Every time he says 'fuk u yar'..
Every time i meet ze 'Ramesh'..
Every time someone doesnt hug me right..
Every time someone calls me a bitch..
Every time someone tries to get me hooked to any series..
Every time someone bitches about their college..
Every time i smoke..
Every time my teeth dig into Al bake's shawarma..
Every time i have a birthday gift to give..
Every time i need someone to walk me through he phone till the parlour..
Every time i wear underpants that say 'its raining men' to my waxing sessions..
Every time some one fishes for compliments..
Every time someone acts 'demented'..
Every time i have to tell someone how evolution might not be entirely true..
Every time i make plans around 2012..
Every time memories of my face being sucked for fifty minutes flash before my eyes..
Every time i think of a certain somebody's sex life..
Every time pretty girls from Dubai and around participate in reality shows..
Every time 'Behne de' plays..
Every time i have to tell some one about my fifty thousand (and more) things i plan to do in life..
Every time i wear your tee-shirt and think of the others am going to steal..
Every time 'gillu/sheru..err anything but preeto' decides to LIKE a page on facebook..
Every time a male species with that thing dangling down there decides to make THE heart.. <3
Every time niharika ignores the crap out of me..
Every time i have to hog..
Every time someone cant quite express love..
Every time someone gets awkward when i touch them too much..
Every time i am rumoured to be 'going out' with someone..
Every time i hear music i don't quite get..
Every time anything female's clothing item is unable to hold her boobs completely..
Every time the 'housefull' team decides to appear for an interview explaining how much hard work was put in the making of the movie..
Every time mumma says 'hairband'..
Every time there's a mention of 'Big Apple'..
Every time i see the cover of Pride and 'Prejudice'..
Every time we think we are cool enough to hang out in ze dilli..
Every time fatherkind gets on to the last of my little nerves..
Every time all this and so much more happens..
I Miss You.
dude,Two months is way too long.
You GET my weird ass lame examples.
you don't stare at me when i hog.
you don't care when i don't put kajal.
you take my crappy gifts.
you always pretend that u care about things thats don't even matter.
you take my nonsense.
you cross the god forsaken 'bridge' to meet me.
you let me call u jaya and refer to u as a girl.
you are so pretty.
I love you. so much so much so much. soooper yooo arre.
come back already.
p.s- going back to my weird ass examples and references, in Sex and the City-the movie, when Samantha's boyfriend, Smith Jerrod buys her this fab and super super expensive ring, she confirms that "..it's a ring with diamonds and not a diamond ring, right?".
Similarly, this, my favourite person, is 'A Letter Of Love' and not a love letter.
Love Love Love :)
Every time someone fucks up their grammar..
Every time someone tries to act cool..
Every time someone shows off..
Every time he says 'fuk u yar'..
Every time i meet ze 'Ramesh'..
Every time someone doesnt hug me right..
Every time someone calls me a bitch..
Every time someone tries to get me hooked to any series..
Every time someone bitches about their college..
Every time i smoke..
Every time my teeth dig into Al bake's shawarma..
Every time i have a birthday gift to give..
Every time i need someone to walk me through he phone till the parlour..
Every time i wear underpants that say 'its raining men' to my waxing sessions..
Every time some one fishes for compliments..
Every time someone acts 'demented'..
Every time i have to tell someone how evolution might not be entirely true..
Every time i make plans around 2012..
Every time memories of my face being sucked for fifty minutes flash before my eyes..
Every time i think of a certain somebody's sex life..
Every time pretty girls from Dubai and around participate in reality shows..
Every time 'Behne de' plays..
Every time i have to tell some one about my fifty thousand (and more) things i plan to do in life..
Every time i wear your tee-shirt and think of the others am going to steal..
Every time 'gillu/sheru..err anything but preeto' decides to LIKE a page on facebook..
Every time a male species with that thing dangling down there decides to make THE heart.. <3
Every time niharika ignores the crap out of me..
Every time i have to hog..
Every time someone cant quite express love..
Every time someone gets awkward when i touch them too much..
Every time i am rumoured to be 'going out' with someone..
Every time i hear music i don't quite get..
Every time anything female's clothing item is unable to hold her boobs completely..
Every time the 'housefull' team decides to appear for an interview explaining how much hard work was put in the making of the movie..
Every time mumma says 'hairband'..
Every time there's a mention of 'Big Apple'..
Every time i see the cover of Pride and 'Prejudice'..
Every time we think we are cool enough to hang out in ze dilli..
Every time fatherkind gets on to the last of my little nerves..
Every time all this and so much more happens..
I Miss You.
dude,Two months is way too long.
You GET my weird ass lame examples.
you don't stare at me when i hog.
you don't care when i don't put kajal.
you take my crappy gifts.
you always pretend that u care about things thats don't even matter.
you take my nonsense.
you cross the god forsaken 'bridge' to meet me.
you let me call u jaya and refer to u as a girl.
you are so pretty.
I love you. so much so much so much. soooper yooo arre.
come back already.
p.s- going back to my weird ass examples and references, in Sex and the City-the movie, when Samantha's boyfriend, Smith Jerrod buys her this fab and super super expensive ring, she confirms that "..it's a ring with diamonds and not a diamond ring, right?".
Similarly, this, my favourite person, is 'A Letter Of Love' and not a love letter.
Love Love Love :)
Friday, March 5, 2010
On being Ross and Rachel :P
I can bet my life on the fact (err..belief) that any living person who has walked on the face of the earth has had (or will have) a Ross (or a Rachel). It's inevitable. It's almost like the forces of nature conspire to make this happen.
One would lie to one's parents to go make out with them in the shadiest of places;
one would help them find a girl(boy)friend;
one would then feel jealous and crib about the same;
one would want them to be a part of all one's big moments in life..yada yada.
It's typical of every individual and I am not even kidding.
The close-friends-clan sees them as nothing but a 'fuck buddy'. Now that isn't entirely false, but it isn't entirely true either. What most fail to get is that, it's a rather twisted relationship.Generally perceived as a 'no strings attached' bond, it's way more complicated than that. Point being no matter what, they're just bound to get together.
Communication or the lack of it, distance, time..nothing makes them
get away from each other completely. There's this strong ...errr..thing between them that just doesnt let go..!!
The term "fuck buddies" is rather demeaning..
Remember how Rachel once famously told Ross,
"Ross, Just so you know...
with us...
it's never off the table. .."
One would lie to one's parents to go make out with them in the shadiest of places;
one would help them find a girl(boy)friend;
one would then feel jealous and crib about the same;
one would want them to be a part of all one's big moments in life..yada yada.
It's typical of every individual and I am not even kidding.
The close-friends-clan sees them as nothing but a 'fuck buddy'. Now that isn't entirely false, but it isn't entirely true either. What most fail to get is that, it's a rather twisted relationship.Generally perceived as a 'no strings attached' bond, it's way more complicated than that. Point being no matter what, they're just bound to get together.
Communication or the lack of it, distance, time..nothing makes them
get away from each other completely. There's this strong ...errr..thing between them that just doesnt let go..!!
The term "fuck buddies" is rather demeaning..
Remember how Rachel once famously told Ross,
"Ross, Just so you know...
with us...
it's never off the table. .."
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
of Pixies and the enchanted forests..
He has the prettiest hands;
the kind that are long finger-ed. And firm.
My hand fits perfectly into his.
He's a lover;
the kind that wraps his arms around you.
Both of us can listen to songs by Pixies all afternoon.
He's funny and witty;
the kind you have a repartee with
He also stops to check if I am hurting.
He's a listener;
the kind that not only listens but also gets.
We plan to discover some enchanted forests someday.
He's a talker;
the kind that creates memorable conversations out of a rendezvous.
We spoke about Heaven and Hell the other day.
He's not too tall;
the kind that's just about as tall to have my head rest perfectly on his chest when he hugs me.
He does that a lot.
He's sexual;
the kind writers write about.
There are imprints of his burning lips all over me.
Still.
the kind that are long finger-ed. And firm.
My hand fits perfectly into his.
He's a lover;
the kind that wraps his arms around you.
Both of us can listen to songs by Pixies all afternoon.
He's funny and witty;
the kind you have a repartee with
He also stops to check if I am hurting.
He's a listener;
the kind that not only listens but also gets.
We plan to discover some enchanted forests someday.
He's a talker;
the kind that creates memorable conversations out of a rendezvous.
We spoke about Heaven and Hell the other day.
He's not too tall;
the kind that's just about as tall to have my head rest perfectly on his chest when he hugs me.
He does that a lot.
He's sexual;
the kind writers write about.
There are imprints of his burning lips all over me.
Still.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
'Cause you're stupid baby when you're sane.
Over the (very very little) years that I have spent living, there's just one thing I have been able to establish for sure; that I like crazy !
That's one of the extremely few things I have ever been good at. No, there are no claims of havin balls (err..!!?) of steel here. I am as un-adventurous as un-adventurous gets. You will never hear of me jumping off planes, climbing the Himalayas, going trekking across the Annapurnas..yada yada.. when I say 'crazy', I mean strictly of the kind where there isn't a risk to human life involved.When you let go every once in a while (or twice or thrice in a while :P) it's the crazy-ness we bring in our lives that teaches us that it's okay to screw up sometimes. It's okay to make a fool out of yourself sometimes. It's nice to be able to laugh at yourself. That it's so much for satisfying to laugh at someone else (*evil grin*). The point being, crazy is good, crazy is fun, crazy is me :D
So now that I am at it, just thought it would be nice to 'record' one such activity which, one would say, is capable of epitomizing the concept of craziness.
I am eighteen.
I got my self registered on...wait for it...wait for it...shaadi.com.
Hilarious,isnt it?
In the beginning, yes !
Ideally, a common WOMAN's (enough of the patriarchal 'common man'. We contribute to the sex too, you know?) opinion about such sites wont be too high. But the amount of information you havto fill in is appalling. From your physical appearances to job to education to annual income to family background to medical history to the colour of your crap to BLAHH ! They strip you down. I gave the basic mandatory information and topped it with cheesy vibes of being a "convent-educated-good-homely-girl-next-door" in the "about me" and some "pati-parmeshvar-ish" bullcrap in the 'qualities I'm looking for in my partner' section.
All fun and games. crazy is on. it gets crazier.
For that half-filled-lollipop of a a profile, I got some thousand 'potential grooms' and my phone kept buzzing, giving me notifications about the same. Creepy desperados,much? I think so.
Cut to next grand (read:crazy) step. Add a picture. Being against morphing and plagiarism of any kind, I decided to post my own picture. Never before did I feel as pretty in my life. The number of the potential grooms who were interested in 'knowing me more', increased by the second! My phone boob-shaked like a slut.
The constant messages had to stop.
This had to stop.
I did the obvious.
I changed my number for one of my best friend's. It was all taken care of. I loved the 'crazy' attention I got on the cyber space and how the best friend swore to kill me if he had to read anymore of my msgs from the 'shaadi group'. It was AWESOME!!!
Crazy turned creepy by the day. From being interested in profiles only, 'potential grooms' started being interested in the (drop dead gorgeous good) looks and gave (not so) subtle hints about possible meeting in the near future. Finally creeped out, I decided to delete the profile that got me my 15seconds (nah..a hell lot more than that) fame online.
Turns out, there's a price to pay for 'crazy'. There isn't an option of deactivating what I 'crazy-ly' started with ever so much enthusiasm. The bomb had dropped. I was stuck in the matrimonial mockery for life. My world was flashing in front of my eyes now. Flash by flash. My end seemed near (aah..the good old melodrama!).
And then it happened.
I did stumble upon the darn option of deleting one's profile. They asked me the resaon for it. An option being 'met my partner', I struck that*sighs*.
'where/how?'
'through friends'
*sighs more*.
And that was that. with a congratulatory msg from the shaadi group for having found my partner
*going breatheless, sighing*
they had successfully deleted my account.
Shall miss it..NOT!
P.S- Not dying alone after all, huh? :P
That's one of the extremely few things I have ever been good at. No, there are no claims of havin balls (err..!!?) of steel here. I am as un-adventurous as un-adventurous gets. You will never hear of me jumping off planes, climbing the Himalayas, going trekking across the Annapurnas..yada yada.. when I say 'crazy', I mean strictly of the kind where there isn't a risk to human life involved.When you let go every once in a while (or twice or thrice in a while :P) it's the crazy-ness we bring in our lives that teaches us that it's okay to screw up sometimes. It's okay to make a fool out of yourself sometimes. It's nice to be able to laugh at yourself. That it's so much for satisfying to laugh at someone else (*evil grin*). The point being, crazy is good, crazy is fun, crazy is me :D
So now that I am at it, just thought it would be nice to 'record' one such activity which, one would say, is capable of epitomizing the concept of craziness.
I am eighteen.
I got my self registered on...wait for it...wait for it...shaadi.com.
Hilarious,isnt it?
In the beginning, yes !
Ideally, a common WOMAN's (enough of the patriarchal 'common man'. We contribute to the sex too, you know?) opinion about such sites wont be too high. But the amount of information you havto fill in is appalling. From your physical appearances to job to education to annual income to family background to medical history to the colour of your crap to BLAHH ! They strip you down. I gave the basic mandatory information and topped it with cheesy vibes of being a "convent-educated-good-homely-girl-next-door" in the "about me" and some "pati-parmeshvar-ish" bullcrap in the 'qualities I'm looking for in my partner' section.
All fun and games. crazy is on. it gets crazier.
For that half-filled-lollipop of a a profile, I got some thousand 'potential grooms' and my phone kept buzzing, giving me notifications about the same. Creepy desperados,much? I think so.
Cut to next grand (read:crazy) step. Add a picture. Being against morphing and plagiarism of any kind, I decided to post my own picture. Never before did I feel as pretty in my life. The number of the potential grooms who were interested in 'knowing me more', increased by the second! My phone boob-shaked like a slut.
The constant messages had to stop.
This had to stop.
I did the obvious.
I changed my number for one of my best friend's. It was all taken care of. I loved the 'crazy' attention I got on the cyber space and how the best friend swore to kill me if he had to read anymore of my msgs from the 'shaadi group'. It was AWESOME!!!
Crazy turned creepy by the day. From being interested in profiles only, 'potential grooms' started being interested in the (drop dead gorgeous good) looks and gave (not so) subtle hints about possible meeting in the near future. Finally creeped out, I decided to delete the profile that got me my 15seconds (nah..a hell lot more than that) fame online.
Turns out, there's a price to pay for 'crazy'. There isn't an option of deactivating what I 'crazy-ly' started with ever so much enthusiasm. The bomb had dropped. I was stuck in the matrimonial mockery for life. My world was flashing in front of my eyes now. Flash by flash. My end seemed near (aah..the good old melodrama!).
And then it happened.
I did stumble upon the darn option of deleting one's profile. They asked me the resaon for it. An option being 'met my partner', I struck that*sighs*.
'where/how?'
'through friends'
*sighs more*.
And that was that. with a congratulatory msg from the shaadi group for having found my partner
*going breatheless, sighing*
they had successfully deleted my account.
Shall miss it..NOT!
P.S- Not dying alone after all, huh? :P
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Must.Not.Die.Alone !
I actually pondered over as to how to begin writing this one without sounding too arrogant or self assured or delusional or bookish or offensive or.. well ..arrogant ! So I think it's best put straight The point being, I am not un-date-able! I would like to support my argument with the information that I have more than enough number of references that go on to prove the same.Cut to a freaking century later(aah..what would girls be without the power of exaggeration!So FINE..A couple of months) since I last dated..All is well; life's good until that one day.
That one day when I was sitting on the toilet seat and having a 'serious' discussion on the phone..Yes! It's the ever gratifying seat where most of my life changing conversations and thoughts have occurred. The discussion was about the sudden abundance of single-hood dawning all over the lives of most of the tolerable people I know. The conclusion was rather amusing. We figured that it's a clear case of 'its not you.its me ' syndrome. We can't blame the unreal number of creeps we are surrounded by because we cannot and we should not compromise on the basic qualities that one must be in possession of, if one must claim of possessing 'human tendencies' of any sort.
So it shouldnt be completely immoral or haughty on my part to list out the things that I, personally, cannot stand in anything masculine!
FEW of the million reasons why I am going to die alone...
PRONOUNCIATION.
You cannot be pronouncing words wrong. It's, almost, illegitimate. How con you ignore basic rules like you bite your lip (NOT sexually) when you pronounce a word starting with 'V' and you round the lips while pronouncing a word starting with 'W'. Simple things go a long long way. Now how hard is it for parents to 'invest' in quality education for their child so that they dont grow up to be jerks with pronounciation issues?!? And if pronounciation wasnt bad enough the 'accents' make me want to put a gun to my head and press the trigger!
GRAMMAR.
I could've clubbed it with the previous 'issue' but I genuinely believe that this deserves personal attention. For starters, that thing that grows on your head is 'hair' and NOT hairS. Now that we are at it, DIDN'T WENT, HADN'T SAW...etc..is ALL WRONG!! shockin,'no'? Now the good old 'NO', literally translated from our national language. Whatever happened to the "isn't it?" family. I could go on..
CLOTHES.
White pants are not fashion. Period
MUSIC.
I am no musician myself In fact, I understand extremely little of it. However little the knowledge, I will Never Ever Ever call 'Imran Khan' ( of the woofer-amplifier-I- wanna-kill-humanity-with-my-music fame) a musical influence in my life and then dare to think that I am making sense. YES ! I have had real encounters with a few of these.
CONVERSATIONAL SKILLS>
Even if I generously overlook all the above, how can I be with someone I cannot converse with? It's not humanly possible to make that work.
These, with a few other 'tests' along with the smaller ones ('he's not a messy eater'. 'takes bath by choice'. 'doesnt ALWAYS think about sex'. 'gets along with my friends'. 'a little money wont hurt'..yada yada..) determine the type one won't mind dating. As shocking as it maybe, I have found none in the entire freakin' city!
Okay. That would be a lie. I have found a few. Some, I have dated too. Most are my best friends. But the species in extinct now! It's clear. The universe is conspiring against me!
Sigh.
Not to self: Must.Not.Die.Alone !
That one day when I was sitting on the toilet seat and having a 'serious' discussion on the phone..Yes! It's the ever gratifying seat where most of my life changing conversations and thoughts have occurred. The discussion was about the sudden abundance of single-hood dawning all over the lives of most of the tolerable people I know. The conclusion was rather amusing. We figured that it's a clear case of 'its not you.its me ' syndrome. We can't blame the unreal number of creeps we are surrounded by because we cannot and we should not compromise on the basic qualities that one must be in possession of, if one must claim of possessing 'human tendencies' of any sort.
So it shouldnt be completely immoral or haughty on my part to list out the things that I, personally, cannot stand in anything masculine!
FEW of the million reasons why I am going to die alone...
PRONOUNCIATION.
You cannot be pronouncing words wrong. It's, almost, illegitimate. How con you ignore basic rules like you bite your lip (NOT sexually) when you pronounce a word starting with 'V' and you round the lips while pronouncing a word starting with 'W'. Simple things go a long long way. Now how hard is it for parents to 'invest' in quality education for their child so that they dont grow up to be jerks with pronounciation issues?!? And if pronounciation wasnt bad enough the 'accents' make me want to put a gun to my head and press the trigger!
GRAMMAR.
I could've clubbed it with the previous 'issue' but I genuinely believe that this deserves personal attention. For starters, that thing that grows on your head is 'hair' and NOT hairS. Now that we are at it, DIDN'T WENT, HADN'T SAW...etc..is ALL WRONG!! shockin,'no'? Now the good old 'NO', literally translated from our national language. Whatever happened to the "isn't it?" family. I could go on..
CLOTHES.
White pants are not fashion. Period
MUSIC.
I am no musician myself In fact, I understand extremely little of it. However little the knowledge, I will Never Ever Ever call 'Imran Khan' ( of the woofer-amplifier-I- wanna-kill-humanity-with-my-music fame) a musical influence in my life and then dare to think that I am making sense. YES ! I have had real encounters with a few of these.
CONVERSATIONAL SKILLS>
Even if I generously overlook all the above, how can I be with someone I cannot converse with? It's not humanly possible to make that work.
These, with a few other 'tests' along with the smaller ones ('he's not a messy eater'. 'takes bath by choice'. 'doesnt ALWAYS think about sex'. 'gets along with my friends'. 'a little money wont hurt'..yada yada..) determine the type one won't mind dating. As shocking as it maybe, I have found none in the entire freakin' city!
Okay. That would be a lie. I have found a few. Some, I have dated too. Most are my best friends. But the species in extinct now! It's clear. The universe is conspiring against me!
Sigh.
Not to self: Must.Not.Die.Alone !
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