This should be fun

I've been taking very long baths.

Since I'm not at home currently (and it feels so weird to be back in that college time hobo living phase) baths take longer because I must

- wash clothes
- clean bathroom before I bathe
- wipe bathroom floor after I bathe
- carry my toiletries into the bathroom and back into the suitcase
- carry sogging clothes out to the balcony in a heavy ass bucket

But none of this^ can bring down the joy of finding that sweet spot between Antarctica Freezing and Hot as Hell, standing under that strong force of warm water and somehow feeling all your shitty responsibilities clear off your skin, not to mention all the time you get to wallow in your mistakes and find ways to feel invigorated again.

If only.

Haha, anyhow. My final life-determining jury presentation is tomorrow. The amount of stress is my body is making me sick, and it's making me think back to my 12th standard boards. Of course I know now what I didn't know then: the 12th standard boards aren't stressful at all compared to what life throws at you later. But suddenly the still 16 year old side of me began to sulk at her one biggest worry being trivialised. Come to think of it, the stress never really goes away, rather manifests itself in whatever you need to be worried about at that age.

I need to sleep before I pass the point of waking up on time. And Jesus, I sound like a rambling drunk person.

I'll come back to you with jury results, Chaos. Keep the alcohol ready.

because I'm doing exactly what I should be doing at this point: watching Grey's Anatomy and forgetting what day it is.

Love,
Kanika

p.s. follow me on instagram! I'm way more active than a normal human being should be.

Ouch

4 am - 9 am coffee high!

These two weeks are all about 

-finishing work and doing a good job

-waiting to go home

-drinking bucketloads of coffee

-hearing birds chirp at 5 am every day

-sneezing and sniffing through

-loving my laptop

-missing my camera

-HOME

-spending time with Ze Boyfriend....or not, because there's no goddamn time

-cursing about the number of hours in a day

-wondering why teachers do this to you

-crying in relief at a completed assignment

-article writing and stabbing myself with a fork

-staring judgementally at my sleeping roommate

-the possibility of carpal tunnel

-the hidden wonders of lozenges (hint: alcohol)

-not realising that I'm drooling at McDreamy

-Hooooommmmeeeee

-making lists and feeling productive

-not really feeling productive

-being productive anyway

I'll be keeping you posted.

Love,

Kanika

Sleep can't cure this

"Go away," she said,
"leave me be,
to wallow in my misery
to soak up in all this self-pity
because no one seems to care."

Yes, I wrote that. I'm a genius with poetry, am I not?

- I have too many feelings inside me right now, and they are threatening to come in the way of my daily routine. I feel like curling up in bed and sleeping for days so that no one is able to hurt me anymore.

- I want to do another Fantabulous February, except this time it'll be Joyous June. Let me know if it's a good idea and if you would like to join. Read more about FF under the FF label. Click on the top of the post.

- I'm going to spend tomorrow entirely without using an internet connection. I was going to say computer/laptop but I forgot I'm at work and without solitaire to calm me down I will probably brutally beat my fellow intern. No facebook, email, twitter, tumblr or blogging tomorrow. Can I do this? I'm certainly gonna try.

Love with feeling, (if the labels on this post are any indication)
Kanika

There's this thing about design

The problem with design is, no one's opinion or work is wrong.

Which means that when it comes to giving feedback or telling people what you think about what they've made, you are able to act like a jackass and then get away with it. Because somehow saying "this just doesn't work for me, for reasons I cannot explain" is feedback that I have to try and take something from. How do I do that if you can't articulate for shit? I mean, people on twitter are more vocal in 140 characters than you are with the gift of speech.

Needless to say, I'm ticked off with this internship.

An iPod, a birthday and a little less shampoo.

This is me three days ago, a little depressed and feeling weighed down. I wasn't depressed in the photo per se, but it's just an indication of my sadness.

This is me after my kickass haircut today in the morning, much happier and secret- Ze EX Boyfriend had stopped me from chopping but guess what, who cares anymore?!

This is an award I got over email a while back. Sorry for not acknowledging, I love all my awards equally and I love the award givers a lot more than that :) Thank you for thinking that my sad little life deserves praise.

This is a really nice pre-haircut photo of my wall back in Bangalore. It's a quote from Harry Potter and my fairy lights were aching to adorn something beautiful. So the black letters happened. Just above my bed!

This is Alice. She came out of Adobe Illustrator and she worries a lot. I drew her a couple of nights back amidst tears and smokes. Yep. 

This is an iPod touch that I recently re obtained after it got fixed. Thank you God for more than the 6 songs I could fit on my 'smart'phone.

Okay, love and hugs.

Bye.

p.s. I had fun writing this post :P

MAJOR THANK YOU TO ALL THE PEOPLE WHO COMMENTED ON THE LAST POST, I LOVE YOU ALL! SORRY FOR NOT COMMENTING. I'M BEING ANTISOCIAL. WHAT'S NEW. HAHA. *puts earphones in*

Yah. Sad things happen but then you GET OFF YOUR ASS AND MAKE THEM BETTER!

I've told you I've been ill right?

Well right now I'm in that stage where I sniff frequently enough to illicit "tcha"s from people around me and I cough like a 90 year old man who smoked since he was 12. It's entertaining to watch people jump when a giant phlegm-y cough is suddenly let forth into the atmosphere by that girl in the corner of the doctor's waiting room who looked really harmless but is actually a walking talking germ warehouse.

*beautiful imagery...let us revel in that for a moment*

COUGHCOUGH

So yah. It has been tough to maintain any kind of composure when a coughing fit comes along and claims me whole. My poor dabbling-in-homeopathy grandfather has been trying out multiple medications on me and I've been woken up and asked "IS YOUR COUGH BETTER? BY WHAT PERCENTAGE WOULD YOU SAY?"

(he screams because he's a little hard of hearing, he thinks all of us can't hear.)

And then I'm like, wait man, what the fucking fuck, I am not sitting here and letting a little THROAT PROBLEM make me feel like a senior citizen!

So I took out my camera and tons of glitter.

The end product turned out to be my beautiful new header, and I'm going to take a long long time to get over it :)

YAY. 

Also I added an About Me page on the blog but I became all narcissistic and made it About The Author because I consider myself to be a writer *insert canned laughter here*

Haha. 

Pyaar,

K

p.s. verdict on Google + ? I don't have an opinion yet. Ooh so shocking.

The Wonders of Extra Kilos and Fat Old Men in Swimming Trunks

Don't let the title scare you off. :)

I've been freakishly thin without trying as long as I can remember, much to my mother's excellently hidden jealousy and my friends' not-so-hidden chagrin. Yep. I boast(ed) of a waist size of 24, and I made no effort to maintain it and it was all very awesome except for those normal-after-a-point polite inquiries about my having anorexia. No man, you can't make this shit up. I was asked that at least once a day. And you know, being thin and all I might have been the center of envy but really, I have to tell you, I looked unhealthy. My arms were sticks attached to a torso which made it pretty easy to count my ribs and I pretty much hated wearing shorts because my legs were WEEEEEYURD.

Yennyway. I was used to the thinness and the utter horror of salesmen when I went to purchase jeans. *Idon'twanttogtintoitkthanks*

And. Suddenly - I swear it creeped up behind me so stealthily I had no fucking clue it was even there -

I BECAME FAT.

Oh the horror of it all. I went from size 4 (waist size 26 inches) to a size 12 (waist size 30) IN A MATTER OF MONTHS.

trolololololololololol

I know what you all are saying now:

"Waist size 30 and she's cribbing?! BITCH PLEASE."

NO BUT REALLY! I don't like the fact that I'm suddenly humongous (well, comparatively) and that my ass IS SO MUCH HUGER THAN IT IS POSSIBLE FOR AN  ASS TO BE.

*sigh*

Fuck the pixelation, I wanted this to be big. Unlike my thighs which I didn't.

Anyway. The reason I started telling you about this is because I have realised something which isn't very nice to begin with but speaks a lot about the whole body image debate that I think will never ever subside. I never understood why but girls always assumed that being thin will make them prettier. And I know that all over this post I have been ranting about how I'm fat and disgusting and eeyyurrgh and stuff. But I'm glad I've put on this much weight. I look normal now. I seem to be the only one who minds it but that's because I was used to my thin-ness. I thought it made me 'me'.

People look at me appreciately now and say "wow college has done you a world of good, you look great!" and I'm all "mhmm yeah man thanks I know I'm awesome" and everything. It's really kinda nice. The issue I have is with how this weight gain wasn't healthy at ALL - I didn't consciously try to look better or eat better. This paunch is the result of the chips I have been enjoying since I was a kid!

The point is though - my boyfriend hates this part - that being this normal looking weight now, I have become, well, for want of a better word, quite a hottie.

Delhi is called the Rape Capital for a reason but I never faced any issues but NOW? As I'm walking to my boyfriend's house I must be whistled at about 6 times and almost everyone gives me a second ogling look. No kidding. (And for those of you who mistake this as arrogance, fuck off. Get off my blog. If anything I'm probably the person with the lowest self esteem ever.) And I get so super creeped out because of this at the community swimming pool where I have to go to every morning because my mother thinks I need to 'reduce that giant ass' of mine.

SO well. 

It's a community swimming pool. The kind of people who come here are from very middle class backgrounds and essentially very simple people. Lots of little children who aren't scared of being thrown into the deep end in order to learn. And a lot of repressed boys who are craving some sort of sexual release all the fucking time. So much so that I have been forced to modify my high cut one piece swimming costume and wear cycling shorts underneath it to prevent a lot of VERY UNCOMFORTABLE gaping. And some old uncles too. Ones who should've probably opted for the looser shorts-type swimming trunks instead of the hug-my-thing speedos. *scarred*

I'M HOT NOW MAN! I don't know how to deal with it. I'm so used to be unobstrusive and clumsy and pyjama-clad and uncoordinated that I cannot fathom the effect my wearing shorts (knee length, mind you) can have on the general shady-ass male chauvanistic public of Delhi. I gained weight and along with it a lot of other retarded things, like a constant pressure to look hot in whatever I wear (Y U NO LET ME WEAR MY MONKEY PYJAMAS) and for my hair to be picture perfect all the time (so what if the straightener burns your ear! LEARN TO HANDLE PAIN) and basically all my tops/t shirts must highlight the 'essentials' (bangs head against wall). 

Imagine. Looking normal is nowadays attached with a lot of baggage. Wtf is the world coming to.

Pyaar,

K

Meh Meh Meh

This is my "oh fuck I'm so stressed - lol jk I'm posing" face. See how creepy my hand looks? Eeyuurgh.

Hi guys.

I haven't done a POST post in the longest while, I've been filling space on this blog with absolutely brilliant photos :D (don't smirk, you all agree!). Eet has been aye stressful two weeks with personal and work problems alike, all grinning down at me like the devil. 

Whoa simile.

It's 3.06 pm on a Sunday, and I'm sitting in college, supposed to be making a book but all I'm really doing is stalking people on facebook and chatting with ze boyfriend. 

Yeha I'm bored.

I've been dreaming very scary things lately, like dead best friends and dead grandparents and I'm a little worried as to what in the name of GOD is happening to my subconscious mind. Maybe I've been watching too many reruns of Dexter. Or maybe my mind is slowly decaying because of all the coke I drink. Or it's possible that Gossip Girl marathons are ruining my ability to think straight.

Meh. Whatever it is. 

I'm going to go and procrastinate some more now.

Love

x

No Use Crying Over Spilt Beans

"What can I get you?"

"Uh yeah...I would like a cup of coffee and a life, while you're at it."

People walk in and out of the door, setting off the little bell over it, a warning sign.

All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances...and one man in his time plays many parts.

Haha...William Shakespeare seems to have met his share of two faced people?

So next time you decide on stabbing me in the back, tap me on the shoulder too, will you? So I can turn around and scream my head off at you. Tell you what a mistake it was to allow you in here in the first place and how I never ever want to see you walk in here again.

"Would you like some cream on that?"

"Sure, go ahead. Smother me."

Awww, the couple next to me are holding hands under the table, awww. Is this the moment where I'm supposed to smile sickly?

C'est l'amour, l'amour, l'amour, qui fait le monde a la ronde. [It is love, love, love that makes the world go round.]

I can't understand why people think the French are the most romantic people on Earth...the street food absolutely sucks.

Why don't you love me till you are able to accept what I am, my flaws notwithstanding? Don't tell me what's wrong with me and don't try to fix me. If you can't handle that, you know where the tinkling bell is, you know where to go.

"Anything on the side?"

"How about a semblance of a normal, non-exploding-with-pain head for now, eh?"

I dive into my bag for an Aspirin.

Thou shalt paint thy hippie van with honour, a good amount of weed, and tie-dye colors. - The Tenth Commandment number 24.

I wish I could eat something that would make your constant presence go away like my heachaches do. Something delicious, so it would feel even better to do so. I swallow and *poof*, vanished like my younger sister when my mum asks us to clean our room.

I plonk my head on the table, and wait for my coffee, and my life.

Letter to a skeleton.

Dear ST,


I hope I didn't ruin it for us.


I hope you're reading this and if you are then potatoes to you.


I'm sorry I broke your heart. Once, twice. You wound up getting hurt in a war that was never yours to begin with. It was a war I waged between an old me and a new me and the old me won, HANDS down.


You're important, really important. Your eyes are the ones that mean the most in a crowd of people. And I smile. Once, twice.


Don't tell me to fuck off. Come on now.


Yours, yes, YOURS,
HS.