December 27, 2008

I am writing, rather typing this, in my car. I’m on my way to meet my sister, bro-in-law and niece who reached B’lore last night. Which is all very well and good, except I started out on a somewhat zippier drive and due to undetermined mechanical difficulties, we had to stop for an hour at the garage. I suppose I will arrive at my destination almost two hours late.

Oddly, I am not concerned. Guess, I’ve waited so long to see my niece again, a few hours won’t hurt.

Yesterday, I figured out why I have been lately making little progress on my personal goals (translate: no progress). Due to an exhaustive regimen of work, sleep and eating—and the well thought-out addition of a certain medication and a special magical liquid that we kids call, ‘Wine! Glorious Wine’ — the severe fretfulness that presided over my life for years is collapsing. This was my chief drive for carrying out anything I set my mind to. Now I am left strangely purposeless and my social life has been left languishing in a vague limbo. Even my obsessive fixation with cleanliness and tidiness seems to be fading: I no longer clean my room.
So here I sit in my dad’s car and look out of the window. An overweight man has been chewing pan and is now spewing out horrible amounts of dirty red liquid on the pavement. Gross!! Chunks of gravel are jumping off the tracks and slamming into the bottom of another car, making me feel as if I am in an asteroid field. As usual, I hate everyone in the vicinity. But it is a cranky and abstract hatred, and not the murderous fury I usually feel. Hey, I’m happy today!

And blah blah blah and whoop de do. What I really want to write about is that today is the wedding of my ex-boyfriend, M. One that I will not be going to as I don’t trust myself to keep silence when the priest asks the congregation if anyone objects.

*cough * cough*

Today, I will be lounging around eating shortbread cookies and thinking about going shopping. This is so scandalous I can barely stand to write it. What I expect is to step into my sister’s house, carry my niece in my arms and listen to the stories that she’ll tell me in her very broken English. And then not everything will feel like it has gone up into a puff of smoke because I was not present to hold things together with the force of my eroding will.

In other news, there is no other news. I just hope I remember how to post a blog entry, as I will feel awfully foolish if I'm the only one reading this.

You might want to check this out folks- Albums, recently acquired at EC:

There are times when a few random tracks and artists come along and literally steal my attention away for a moment and I feel obliged to pass them on to you. Chances are if you listen to a lot of rock or blues music you’ve heard this man who goes by the name of Joe Cocker. To be honest I have only heard a few of his songs. One of them I’m playing for you today. For whatever reason I initially became interested in this song you can rest assured that I’m passing it along to you because after the initial craze wore off when I first discovered him I still found this track, particularly his gritty vocals, to be worth multiple listens. And that my dear readers, coming from the pages of EC, should clue you in to the fact that I think Joe Cocker is someone to listen to. Enjoy your weekend fair world. And, valued readers don’t forget to enjoy some good music.