Tuesday, February 10, 2004
Livinghigh was here at 7:46 PM /

I think this means I'm hungy

I'm not really sure what kind of a mood I am in, - and no, this is not any of Nelly's fictional drugs talking. I just came back from a reporting assignment, met this guy who handles one of the most important NGOs for Sri Lankan Tamil refugee rehabilitation. That also happens to be my dissertation topic for the college, and that's why Deepa says the only thing on my horizon right now is that teeny little country in the Indian Ocean... she cracked that maybe I'd fallen for a Sri Lankan cutie... damn, I wish I had.

I looked up Millersville University on google also - that's where my anonymous contributor Richard is a junior at. Seemed like a nice, old place. Kind of like Xaviers, from where I come from. That now reminds me of home...

I think you can tell that this is going to be a quiet sort of a blog entry. No dramatics, theatrics, funny bone tickling, or bombastics... shit, except for funny bone whatever, that last collection would have rhymed. That's the extent of my poetic prowess, I guess.

I'm joint editor for the college paper this week. It came out of the blue - turned out, I'm the only guy who hasn't had a chance this term... so I guess I should be happy. I am happy, I guess... in a quiet kind of a way. You can ascribe it all to that strange comment I made in the very beginning about not knowing how I feel.

I want to go on a holiday now. Maybe Pondy, back to that sexy beach, with the sexy French food... no calamari this time for me, thank you - it's too rubbery and tasteless - i'll have a rubber band if I want something like that. Or maybe to Mahabs... beach again, with ravioli at the German bakery and prawns grilled with garlic sauce... I should be the maitre'd at some fancy restaurant, but then that place would go bankrupt as I'd eat them all out... what an original thought. (Sarcastic tone, eyebrows upturned. ) I've also been dying to visit Bangalore, if only for the most delectable ice cream sundae I've ever feasted on... Death by Chocolate, on a base of sexy chocolate truffle cake...

I think I equate good food with sex... or maybe I give precedence to the former over the latter. Certainly, that's the way God intended it, I think... ask me, I'm God.

Pleased to meet you.

I see I can still be a narcissistic pain in the ass, even when I don't know how I feel. There's a special talent there, waiting to be tapped.


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