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.

On Christmas day, I’m going to be doing something low-key. No large gatherings just spending time with my family. This time my older sister, bro-in law and niece wont be joining us for Christmas as they’ve decided to spend the 25th in Nagaland.

Christmas, as I’ve known, has always been about tiresome get-togethers. Relatives and friends would throw lunches and dinners and being one of the children, I was always forced to play with my cousins or kids around the same age, away from the adults who sipped on wine and laughed loudly. Christmas’ with them were never really enjoyable as we had nothing in common and I only saw them once a year.

Even though I’ve had some great moments with these not-so-complete strangers I’ve decided to not repeat the tradition this year around. I’m going to be working the days between Christmas and New Year’s because I can’t afford any time off and because I suppose the holidays are what you make of them and I’m going to have more fun at work.

My sister, bro-in-law and niece are going to be in a different place on Christmas Day. I can’t wait to talk to them and wish them all a merry Christmas.
I don't have the energy to write much of a post today. It could have something to do with the fact that I’ve had a crappy overworked week so far. It could also be the fact that so far today I've only consumed tea and an apple.

I can inform you, however, that my whole Christmassy mood hasn’t been shaken. It could have something to do with the fact that I patched things up with an old friend. Or it could relate to the fact that Ck gifted me the latest albums of Snow Patrol, The Verve, Keane and GNR.
The idea of going back to loads of work after Christmas doesn’t make the merry state last for long. Fortunately for everyone, the ability to spew out fire on my Christmas Wish List still hasn’t arrived.
This is a song that stick-in-the-mud Christmas celebrators and old fogey Third Day fans often like. And I love this version of the classic. The song is well-known: "Do You Hear What I Hear?" written by Noel Regney and music written by Gloria Shayne Baker. This song dates back to the 1960’s during the Cold War and this version by Third Day appropriately turns into a thrusting rock song that is amongst the best of the new Christmas songs, and with a clear message. I smell a new holiday favorite at EC.

Anyway, this entry is longer than I intended, but it was a good one and it was great to play some grand Christmas music for y’all. There's more to tell, but your attention span is probably about to disappear right now. So here's to bustin' out of the house. I so hope you’re feeling good, doing what you want with this holiday and that you are where you want to be. Happy, content, loved. Please give away lots of love and hugs and music.

Have a crazy cool musical Christmas!

My Usual Existential Crisis and The Verve

Five reasons why my day isn’t so good- The air conditioning at work makes my fingers numb and makes me visit the bathroom hourly. The cold virus is up and about and I haven’t got it yet which only means that when it actually does catches up with me I’m going to be out like a sedated beast. My American boss has not been very merciful on my audit scores. My TL and I have been working out ways to prove his case wrong. Mr. Flirt has not had any time for me lately. And finally, I’m just awfully moody. I’ll try a cigarette for now because my pills will just knock me out and there is much blogging left to do.

So, I made plans with my friend Ash this weekend. Hopefully a change in surroundings will perk up the mood, as I’ve been particularly down in the dumps these past couple of days- I’ve always known I was perfect material for an early mid-life crisis. Lately, I’ve been having nightmares. Which is kinda weird since it’s been a long while since I’ve even dreamt. These nightmares usually involve some ugly revelation about something or somebody I really like. For the past few years, it seems I’ve shut down my brain, turned on the autopilot switch and now it’s like all psychological blockades are falling apart from growing old. Goodness, I really have a problem with this age thing. I find it funny how something that used to excite me before, doesn’t anymore. Few things in life feel new. I guess that’s why most old people travel to find something fresh and experience something new. But what happens if you don’t like traveling? Then I suppose you live your life like one of those characters T.S Eliot was talking about in ‘The Wasteland’- Not living but just existent pieces of flesh. Don’t you just love Eliot? For me, He and Nostradamus were so much alike. They had that whole shock factor thing going. Nostradamus was the monster when I was growing up. My parents made me watch those scary movies of his when I was a kid. In college, it was Eliot. But then again I have people I care about, beliefs I hold onto and music to make me feel like I have some sort of purpose after all.

So, I just wait for something good to come my way.

‘Sonnet’ by ‘The Verve’ is undoubtedly the most beautiful track from the album ‘Urban Hymns’ released in 1997. Since a sonnet is really a terribly ordered piece of poetry. I always thought the song was a reference to love not being perfect, the way it seems in poetry. Seriously, this is a wonderful track to have stumbled upon this month and I’m convinced that this song should go up on the post today. Enjoy at your leisure.