The Shoat Statements

Random musings by the multiple voices inside my head.

A lovestruck Romeo, sings a streetsuss serenade
Laying everybody low, with a lovesong that he made
Finds a convenient streetlight, steps out of the shade
Says something like you and me babe, how about it?

Juliet says hey, it's Romeo you nearly gimme a heart attack
He's underneath the window, she's singing hey la my boyfriend's back
You shoudn't come around here singing up at people like that
Anyway, what you gonna do about it?

Juliet, the dice were loaded from the start
And I bet and you exploded in my heart
And I forget, I forget the movie song
When you gonna realize it was just that the time was wrong Juliet?

Come up on different streets, they both were streets of shame
Both dirty, both mean, yes and the dream was just the same
And I dreamed your dream for you and now your dream is real
How can you look at me as if I was just another one of your deals?

When you can fall for chains of silver, you can fall for chains of gold
You can fall for pretty strangers and the promises they hold
You promised me everything, you promised me thick and thin
Now you just say oh Romeo, yeah you know I used to have a scene with him

Juliet when we made love you used to cry
You said I love you like the stars above, I'll love you till I die
There's a place for us, you know the movie song
When you gonna realize it was just that the time was wrong?

I can't do the talk like they talking on the tv
And I can't do a love song like the way its meant to be
I can't do everything but I'd do anything for you
I can't do anything except be in love with you

And all I do is miss you and the way we used to be
All I do is keep the beat and bad company
All I do is kiss you through the bars of a rhyme
Julie I'd do the stars with you any time

Juliet, when we made love you used to cry
You said I love you like the stars above I'll love you till I die
There's a place for us, you know the movie song
When you gonna realize it was just that the time was wrong?

A lovestruck Romeo, sings a streetsuss serenade
Laying everybody low, with a lovesong that he made
Finds a convenient streetlight, steps out of the shade
Says something like you and me babe, how about it?

- Dire Straits (Making Movies)

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master,
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

- Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936)

Ok, got tagged by Scrumpulicious, so here goes.

The rules:

  • Link your tagger and list these rules on your blog.
  • Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.
  • Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.
  • Let them know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

The random and weird stuff:

  1. I absolutely love Bon Jovi.
  2. I don't wear make up.
  3. I don't wear gold.
  4. I am a feminist.
  5. After a night on the beach, I realized that I believe in ghosts.
  6. I love anime, especially Doraemon & Lupin.
  7. I attract the jetsam & flotsam of straight male society. Proven fact.

The seven I'm tagging:

  1. Lady Divine
  2. Chaarmax
  3. Sach
  4. Pissu Perera
  5. Acromantula
  6. The Missing Sandwich
  7. David Blacker

Wanted to tag others as well, but looks like they've already been tagged...

For me, being a good friend is not just about being there for someone. It is over and above being that shoulder they lean on once the shit has hit the ceiling. I always thought that being a good friend also included intervening in somebody’s life (even if they’d end up hating you for it) to save them from messing up their lives.

There’s this friend of mine. Before he was ever a friend, he ruined his life in style (quite literally) over some silly, immature girl. His friends and family watched while his life went from bad to worse, and none of them did anything to stop the downward spiral. They were all there for him to come crying to, drink with, be a sounding board to – but no one intervened to unravel the mess.

Now, he is a friend of mine. A good friend. And this time he is involved with yet another girl – Ms. Psychotic Plus Plus (yes, the repetition is intentional); one who is leaps and bounds worse than the former girl. A proper gold digger and stupid to boot. Within the next few months, I see his life being ruined a second time round, in all likelihood causing far more damage than his first brush with chaos. And by a ruined life I mean a very serious kind of ruin – not just a few more lost tears. (And all those close to him share this opinion.)

However, once again, his friends and family seem happy to watch from the bleachers. In fact, I had a good friend of his tell me “being a good friend is about being there for him at the end of all this, when he will need someone to lean on”. Now I understand that we can’t teach other people our own experiences, and people need to learn from their own mistakes. Still.

Are we just supposed to stand by and watch while he ruins his life? I would rather lose a friendship (with him or anyone else) but still have helped do the best for a friend, rather than have a safe friendship with someone who’s life I watched go up in flames. If I could do it alone, I would. But I can’t. And I’m angry and confused by people who know just as well as I do what’s going to happen, and still they do nothing. I don’t buy this BS about “but what can we do?”. If everyone thought hard enough, they would figure out how to get through – there is always a way to get through to somebody, especially a friend.

I’m so frustrated. His life is going down the drain, and all the friends who can do something about it would rather be a crying shoulder. Am I the only one who thinks that a friend has to be more than that?

Am I wrong – is being a good friend simply about being a handkerchief with ears?

I paid one of my rare visits to the salon. Never being a regular, making appointments are alien to me. So I turned up unannounced, and was made to wait for ½ hour till my turn came. The coffee table beckoned me, with its dazzling array of Hi! magazines, which I was loathe to touch. That left me with a lone Femina.

Honestly, I was expecting at least decent articles from a magazine of that caliber. I was sadly mistaken. Almost every article was on how to look good – what make up to wear, how to wear it, wear to buy said make up from…I think you get the drift. There was an article on what men found hot in women, and the usual long legs, pert butt and cleavage made an appearance there. To add insult to injury, they had actually listed out some 50 or 100 Indian female celebrities, and were asking the readers to vote on who was the most beautiful!

Possibly to save face (no pun intended), there was a lone article about a former anorexic and another one about feeling good about one’s own body. To be honest, I barely noticed those two articles, distracted as I was on all the regimens that I was supposed to put my poor humble face through.

What on earth happened to inner beauty? What happened to being a good/nice/interesting/intelligent person? Its 2008, and even so-called feminist, women’s rights magazines can only talk about how women can strive to look good. Do the women who run Femina have golf courses between their ears – vast empty spaces with nothing of value? Is there nothing more valuable to tell women today than how to look pretty?

At 28, I’m a woman who doesn’t even know how to wear makeup, let alone wanting to put all that goop on my face! Apart from removing unwanted, excess hair, I try to look as natural as possible, with minimum aid from beauty products of all sorts. As long as one is presentable, nothing further is required. I do it on purpose – I see no purpose in something as superficial as beauty with zero value. At the end of the day, beauty will not keep you entertained, and it makes for rather poor conversation on a rainy day. Last I checked, a person was supposed to be judged by what was inside, not by the skill with which they applied pancake on their faces.

But clearly I form a tiny minority, probably a dying breed. Even women, those most discriminated by this requirement of looking good, seem to disagree with me.

No wonder I’m still single…

With Friday the 13th being some way off, I thought that last week would be relatively decent, but boy, was I in for a rude shock. It was a week that got consecutively worse, so now I feel compelled to dedicate an entire post to it. Yeah, in case you were wondering, this is aside from the rest of the rants I’ve been posting throughout the week.

Monday the 26th

Started out as a normal day. A day in which, among other things, I thought I could leave early due to having an exam the next day. I came exclusively to office to collect my salary cheques, but the Finance dept., true to style, made sure they released all payments to synchronize with the closing of banks for the day. Grrrrrrrrrrr. So much for Monday, then. Then the tarot reading I had arranged for myself went up in smokes when the cards failed to materialize. As I was about to leave, caboom! went the bomb. So I ended up hanging around office till the traffic ceased, mildly helping out a friend who needed to release an artwork for the next day. As I kept smsing various different people assuring them that I wasn’t inside a Panadura bound train because I use my car, Dialog decided that it was the perfect time for them to bar my phone….and a mere Rs.7500/=, they assured me, was enough to get it reconnected. Monday ended with my suffering from such a splitting migraine that I couldn’t even manage to have dinner before I crashed into bed.

Tuesday the 27th

Probably the worst day of the entire lot. Went for the exam, and suffered a mild cardiac arrest when I realized that out of eight questions, I could only answer 1 ½. Probably my second strongest subject, and it should’ve been a cake walk. But noooooooooooo. Some sadistic prick in England decided that he was going to set a paper on the most obscure topics in the syllabus that only he knew existed. So I was effectively screwed. Walked out of the BMICH knowing that I had for sure failed one paper.

Having a medical to finish for my elusive Canadian PR, I headed towards Nawaloka. And what fun Nawaloka was! Just like an obstacle race. Turned up at the PR office, was asked to pay first (Rs.2000!!!! For a pint of blood and an x-ray?????) and when I went back, was asked for a photocopy of my passport. Didn’t have a photocopy, so I asked them to get one for me. At which point I discovered that the whole of Nawaloka had only one photocopy machine, guarded by Hydra. I went off for the blood tests, hoping that Hydra would’ve fallen asleep by the time I returned. The blood tests took about 45 minutes, in which the first 40 consisted of my listening to a 5 year old bellow endlessly about how an injection was going to kill him. After discovering that he unfortunately had survived the ordeal, I gave away three tubes full of blood and went to the x-ray room. Waited there for 1 ½ hours, because that’s how good Nawaloka is at taking x-rays. Another 20 minutes dedicated to battling Hydra saw me finally exit this ‘hospital’.

Went to Odel, hoping to pay my mobile bill, only to discover that Dialog, in their infinite wisdom, had decided to remove their payment centre. Makes perfect sense, right? Customers had free parking, heart of the city, frequent meeting place etc. How can Dialog possibly encourage such convenience? Drove around town, looking for inconvenience, also known as Dialog Telekom payment centres.

I thought the day couldn’t get any worse, but I was proved wrong. A hapless man on a scooter decided that my buffer needed remodeling. So he rammed his scooter into my buffer. Was too tired to fight, waaaay too tired to wait for insurance, so I just let him go.

Definitely the worst day.

Wednesday the 28th

Overall, not such a bad day. Except that my landlady decided to wake me up at the crack of dawn just to announce her arrival back into the paradise isle. And I discovered that instead of getting me the knee-length boots I asked for, she got me black party shoes. At least the shoes looked good. Everything else she got me made absolutely no sense to me, because they were makeup in various forms, and moi, I do not wear makeup. At all.

Oh yeah, then my body decided to cough up blood. Third non-consecutive day, so the unhappy realization that I will have to drag myself to a doctor finally decided to cross my mind. Day officially ruined.

Thursday the 29th

Yet another exam. This time, went much better than expected, so I thought it would be a good day. Muwahahahahahaha!! Boy, I can really be stupid sometimes!

Made a doctors appointment for 7 p.m. Should’ve headed home till then, but was attacked by temporary insanity. Which led me to office. Where I discovered that a dear (former) friend had decided to bitch about me. Behind my back. With information that he gained from me. Yes, it hurt quite a bit.

Killed time till my doctor’s appointment, only to have the doctor’s office call me at 6.30 to inform me that the appointment is cancelled.

Yet another lousy day.

Friday the 30th

The morning (and by that I mean the hours from when I woke up to the time I reached office) went quite well. The first sign of a bad day was when my mother called to inform me that I had no lunch. Then my former friend decided to turn the knife that he had left in my back. Ouch.

The next three hours saw a client I refused to sleep with exact his revenge. For the nth time. No, my misery wasn’t over just yet. Next I successfully put my foot in my mouth by accepting a dinner invitation without whetting the guest list. No way to back out now!

Had to kill time till my rescheduled doctor’s appointment at 7p.m., so decided to drive a friend around town while he finished some of his errands. Successfully parked and then reversed out of Leo Burnett, which doesn’t have the easiest parking lot. But that turned out to be a red herring, because I next went to a small agency with one client and no parking, only to successfully knock my car on a piece of metal jutting out of the side walk, conveniently below eye level.

Having now double booked myself with the doctor and the insurance people, I chose to forgo the doc. Only to find out that he had been planning to cancel me as well! Waited an hour plus for insurance, because he decided to follow only half the given directions to the accident site.

Finally winded up at the dinner, only to discover that it was a trap of sorts, and friends who decide to drop you like a hot potato don’t quite want to drink with you. Also discovered that chestnuts were unavailable in Sri Lanka. Damn it!

Saturday the 31st

I discovered at exactly 2.30p.m. that there was a water cut. And my tank decided to die on me at such a crucial time. Grrrrrrrrr. Had to shower at my landlady’s, before I met my doctor at long last.

The doctor informed me that I need to do three dozen blood tests, along with the mildly disturbing information that I have a slight lump in my throat. After the day was officially ruined in this manner, I discovered that the whole of Colombo didn’t have water. Further discussions with a friend left me to realize that I had precious few people in my address book that I could inconvenience for a shower. That Moratuwa to Kotte didn’t have water was no help. After inconveniencing my landlady for a second time, I went to sleep knowing that an explosion in Wellawatte made a fitting end to a disastrous week.

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Be true to your heart, and true to your conscience.

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