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December 22 Not My Usual Cup of Tea. Most of the time, I have dreams of me murdering someone or a bearded someone(never trust people with beards. Or handle-bar mustaches)
trying to murder me . There's usually a hotel with green-marble flooring in all dreams where the bearded someone is trying to murder me. Sometimes I have happy dreams of me falling in love with exaggerated nice versions of guys in class. Sometimes I have dreams of words. Words that blink.
Yesterday, I had a dream about a strainer. A tea-strainer.
I don't fully remember what the tea-strainer did in my dream. I mean, tea-strainer's don't generally do much do they? Other than lying there. And rolling over to a side when they get tired of lying there. And rolling over to the other side when they get bored of that side.
I just remember getting up, blinking once or twice and telling myself calmly that I had a dream about a tea-strainer.
Ah, well. As long as the tea-strainer didn't have ulterior motives other than just lying there and didn't sport a handle-bar mustache and a loose, transparent silk shirt draped loosely around him.
Tagged by Kriti and N.
A. Available or taken: Taken. By little aliens in cute frocks.
B. Best Friend: Shundu-bum. And Happystraydog. And food. C. Cake or pie: Hoho. I'm so onto you, whoeveryouare! You just want to know if I like cake or pie better so you can get me high on
whichever I choose and then obtain all the classified information that's residing peacefully in the depths of my little grey cells. Too bad
my little grey cells have been recently upgraded to the cool new X900. Which also happens to come in any colour of your choice. I chose
bubblegum pink.
D. Drink of choice: Wine. Any wine. And appy. And Red Bull.
E. Essential item: My lucky underwear. Paper. Paint. Colourpencils. Music. F. Favorite color: that particular colour of blue that just drifts around peacefully. The name evades me. G. Gummi bears or worms: Gummi Bears.:)
H. Hometown: Kerala. I. Indulgence: Books. Music. Happy things. J. January or February: What? What about January or Febuary? WHat?! Is something going to happen? Am I going to turn into a wolf? K. Kids and/or names: I'm 17 for crying out loud. L. Life is incomplete without: curtains.
M. Marriage date: Hold on. Are you trying to fix me up with some sappy guy who drools at the mouth?
N. Number of siblings: Nada. O. Oranges or apples: Happy apples. Oranges when I'm in the mood. P. Phobias/Fears: roaches. People with handle-bar mustaaches/beards. Q. Quote: "I like brick walls.They're the only things that don't contradict me."-- Oscar Wilde.
R. Reason to smile: Boohbahs. And the expressions on all the little Talibans when I was parading around school with a huge box-lid on my head.:)
S. Season: Summer. Holidays! Blissful hours of doing nothing.
T. Tag 3 /6 people: Old Wilberforce. Rusty Cerebral Child. Sandeeeeep. U. Unknown fact about me: I bark.
V. Vegetable you hate: That bitter gourd thing.
W. Worst habit: Drifting away when someone's telling me something important. X. X-rays: Turquoise. That's what the particular colour of blue that I liked was. X-rays? No way! They're so yesterday. Drape a curtain around your head if you have to.
Y. Your favorite food: oh anything. Z. Zodiac: Librans. And Leos to an extent. And Capricorns. And Scorpions. Wow, this tag was by far the most boring tag ever.
December 07 Times, They are Changing.“Let’s sing the Powerpuff Girls Song!!” I said, clapping my hands. The distressed little thing blinked at me. The distressed little thing happened to be my friend’s li’l sister who was crying because a girl was staring at her (How could she, the little stare-er!) “I don’t like Powerpuff girls,” she said, sniffing and wiping away a tear. “What?! What?? What!! What? What!” I said, doing Mr.Echo’s job. “What?” I said again. “How can you not like Powerpuff Girls?” "Anisha, you're not really helping, you know."
“Hello, childrensss,” I said, beaming at all the little terrorists in the First grade class my friends were supposed to be babysitting. I was practicing a little pirouette on the slidy floor (yay!) when my practiced eye spotted a little Taliban boy crying. I rushed to the rescue, brimming with concern for the little bandit.
“What seems to be the problem little one?” I enquired. He recited his eledgy to me, sniffing and making his lips tremble when he paused,for effects. His crayons seemed to have sprouted a pair of legs and hiked a ride on someone else's pencil-box.My concern for the little lad overflowed. Crayons were very close to my heart. I did some quick thinking and gasped at the sheer brilliance of my little grey cells. We could sing the Powerpuff Girls song!! “Let’s sing the Powerpuff Girls song!!” I said, hopping on the spot. A minute passed. Then a little Taliban girl slapped her forehead. “Ayyo…,” she said, her little nose wrinkling in dainty disdain. A few others started giggling. “What?” I said, my little bubble of pride and glee slowly deflating with a pusss sound. “No one likes Powerpuff girls anymore.” "Oh."
How? Why? What about the times you were at the edge of your couch, biting your nails and dreading that IT had really killed Buttercup, or giggling when Bubbles acted silly or feeling your heart swell with pride when you saw them save Townsville? Or the times when you guffawed about the Mayor and his mysterious red-headed assistant and his bottle of pickle? Or the times you tried to imitate Mojo Jojo? What about the times you wanted to be someone with superpowers just like Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup?
*sigh*
Just in case you're wondering,I don't watch Powerpuff Girls anymore. But I still like them. :) |
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