tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68359593606930865502024-03-17T00:22:21.537+05:30IceMaidenIceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.comBlogger291125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835959360693086550.post-63243622782082005742017-01-03T04:51:00.001+05:302017-01-03T04:51:06.940+05:30Epilogue<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b>ep·i·logue</b></span></div>
<div class="p3" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s2">ˈ</span><span class="s1">ep</span><span class="s2">əˌ</span><span class="s1">lô</span><span class="s2">ɡ</span><span class="s1">,</span><span class="s2">ˈ</span><span class="s1">ep</span><span class="s2">əˌ</span><span class="s1">lä</span><span class="s2">ɡ</span><span class="s1">/</span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><i>noun</i></span></div>
<div class="p5" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p4">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
a section or speech at the end of a book or play that serves as a comment on or a conclusion to what has happened.</div>
<span class="s1"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<span class="s1">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
~</div>
</span><br />
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">So this is it. </span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">This isn’t even the last goodbye, the final word.. the one where I tell everyone how its been amazing and I will miss it all, and how its now time to bid goodbye and shut this thing down. Because we all know, somewhere between my last post (<i>March 1st, 2015</i>) and now (<i>January 3rd, 2017</i>), this blog has already died. Okay.. that sounds very morose, but its true. This blog no longer exists, and this post is, for all practical purposes, an epilogue. </span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">Simply put, sometime a lot prior to my ‘last post’, things changed. There is no marker in time where I can point to and say that <i>this</i> is when things changed.. but well, they did. I started this blog when I wasn’t even out of grad school and over the years that followed, this place has seen me grow from the (slightly idiotic but mighty idealistic) college girl to the person I am today (who understands and accepts gray areas and does not do labels anymore). </span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1">The funny thing about change is how everyday feels the same.. but when you look back after coming a certain way, you realize so much has. Roughly two years ago, (incidentally reading some of my oldest posts, something funny about college life) I realized there were things I did not even remember saying or doing anymore. Was I simply outgrowing memories as a normal part of “growing up”? It felt more than just that, and it was. When it all came down to it, I did not recognize <i>the person</i> who wrote those posts anymore. And just like that, this place suddenly felt.. alien and it has been a feeling I haven’t been able to shake off. </span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p7" style="text-align: justify;">
There has been (and is still, on some days) a lot of emotional instability and confusion over who I am. It has been a long slow process to acceptance, editing all those learned definitions of life and love and friendship and <i>normalcy</i>, adding new ones and deleting old ones, choosing to let go and starting something new. It has been one heck of a revamp to be entirely honest.. and this goodbye is part of the change. :) </div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p7" style="text-align: justify;">
Without going into too much into detail (thats what the new place is for!) this is me, formally shutting this blog and moving to another place. Which has also literally happened early this year, because I actually moved from India to USA, the guy and the cats, and 6 suitcases worth of everything my life was about. Suddenly, everything familiar about my life disappeared, I was in this new confusing country trying to find my footing, some days missing home so much it hurts and not really sure what comes next, and some days marveling at the fact that I am <b>here</b>. Thanks to this major life change, I have so much to talk about, this new life and everything else that comes along with it, so I have also decided to finally take the plunge and get myself a website. </div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p8" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s3">So whoever is still reading this, you can find me in my 100% honest glory at </span><span class="s4"><b><a href="http://thatssoannie.com/" target="_blank">That's So Annie</a></b></span> where I will talk about everything that makes me, well.. Annie. I know, I know it has been up for a while but this new me takes a bit longer than usual to grow into new things and be comfortable with them. </div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p7" style="text-align: justify;">
Goodbye blog, you have been a wonderful constant for EIGHT YEARS! Thats a feat in itself isn’t it? Now onwards to brand new things.</div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
Love and sunshine,</div>
<div class="p7" style="text-align: justify;">
~ Annie. </div>
<div class="p7" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p8" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s3">P.S.: </span>I am leaving this blog up for a bit, until I figure what to do with it, and also because I am still very fond of it (and also some special people asked me to.. you know who you are!). </div>
</div>
IceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.com39tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835959360693086550.post-3706929201489332882015-03-01T11:30:00.000+05:302015-03-01T11:30:05.718+05:30Train<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It was somewhere between a slightly drunk rendition of a Six Pence None The Richer song, that I turned around gigglingly, towards the bar set up at the back. The entrance of the second floor establishment, was right beside the bar at the back end of the room, and I saw their party of three come into the lounge. </span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The two men with their arms draped casually around each other, looking every bit the couple they were, laughing about something with their heads thrown back - and the woman with them sauntering in ahead of them, with purposeful steps, hips swaying slightly with her strides. Her face broke out into a toothy grin, eyes widening at the words that scrolled, projected on the wall at the back end of the dimly lit lounge. I heard my friend start to sing, and I forced my gaze back to the scrolling words and joined her once again. </span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Kiss me, down by the broken treehouse</span></b></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Swing me upon its hanging tree</span></b></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Bring, bring, bring your flowered hat,</span></b></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We’ll take the trail marked on your fathers map,</span></b></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So kiss me. </span></b></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i></i><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i></i><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">~</span></i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i></i><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Waking up hungover was so much easier five years ago - what could have possibly changed in five years? My entire body groaned in resistance as I crawled out of bed. Slowly, I set about getting ready to leave for work and once I close the door behind me an hour later, I take my phone out to message my two best friends. </span></i></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Quickly I type a one liner and hit send, moving on to catch a cab with a slight smile on my lips. </span></i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i></i><br /></span></div>
<div class="p3" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I met the most amazing woman last night.</span></i></b></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i></i><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">~</span></i></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">There are more people in the dimly lit lounge now - and a few of them are looking on expectantly while the others talking in hushed voices, as she takes to the little clearing in the middle of the room, right in front of the song prompter. I am there with my college friends, a long planned reunion, and we were already slightly drunk from the party we went to before this, and we are fully expecting to move on from here to another party soon enough. We have taken an entire couch and a pitcher of sangria lies for us to devour. </span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">She has everyones attention at her first note. </span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I see you driving 'round town with the girl I love</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">and I'm like,</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">FUCK YOU!</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Ooo, ooo, oooo!</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p5" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i></i><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I guess the change in my pocket wasn't enough</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm like,</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">FUCK YOU!</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p5" style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="p1">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And fuck her too.</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p5" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Dear God could the woman sing or what?</i> I think to myself, staring at her owning the song, utterly mesmerized. She sings into the microphone as if being a regular rockstar was her day job, swinging her hips in time to the music. Vaguely I hear my friends - and the rest of the crowd, cheer her on as she hits a particularly high pitched note, and all I can do is stare at her. She turns in the general direction of my cheering friends and for an instant locks eyes with me. </span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Before I could wipe the stupid dazed look off my face, she’s moved back to her next verse. </span></div>
<div class="p5" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i></i><br /></span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">~</span></i></div>
<div class="p5" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i></i><br /></span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">'Oooooo deetails!' comes the instant reply from Bestie #1. Bestie #2 follows soon enough with a predictable 'Boobs?'. Men! I laugh to myself and switch on my system at work. Within minutes I am knee deep in emails and deadlines and presentations, with the sound of her voice pushed to the very back of my mind. For now. </span></i></div>
<div class="p5" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i></i><br /></span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Bestie #3 catches me humming to myself as I wait for the printer to churn out my page around lunch time, and asks me whats that song I am humming. I give her the widest grin and she gives me a confused smile in return, before we are interrupted by other friends. </span></i></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Six hours later when I leave for home, I am still humming my song. </span></i></div>
<div class="p5" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i></i><br /></span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Na na na na, na na, na na na na, na na naaaaa. </span></i></div>
<div class="p5" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i></i><br /></span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">~</span></i></div>
<div class="p5" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">By the end of the night, I had had enough alcohol in me to stumble over to the guys managing the song requests and put in my song. It happened to be the last one they’d take for the night. Only slightly tipsy on my feet, but highly skeptical of the vocal skills I had once possessed and hadn’t used since I graduated, I take the mike in my hands as my song comes up. I have my sights trained on the prompter, and behind me I overhear her take a look at the screen and gasp in delight at my song choice. </span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I turn and give her a smile without much thought (all that sangria probably went to my head) to which she gushes, ‘Oh what a great song!’</span></div>
<div class="p5" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">‘Yeah, its been a favorite for over a decade!’ I murmur to her insignificantly, considering she has already turned away. </span></div>
<div class="p5" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I take a deep breath and get back to my song, as a general hush falls over the room. I allow myself to get back ten years in time, back to the carefree sneaker-wearing, basketball-playing, band-singer girl I was. Who could get on and belt a song right from the heart, without thinking about <i>anything</i> else apart from <i>why</i> the song meant so much. </span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And this one did. Oh it really really did. </span></div>
<div class="p5" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Now that she's back in the atmosphere</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">With drops of Jupiter in her hair, hey, hey, hey</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">She acts like summer and walks like rain</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Reminds me that there's a time to change, hey, hey, hey</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Since the return from her stay on the moon</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">She listens like spring and she talks like June, hey, hey, hey</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="s1">Hey, hey, hey</span> </span></b></div>
<div class="p5" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I start to smile, when the hush breaks out in delighted sing-alongs because this ones a crowd favorite, and…. it looks like I still got game. Bolstered by the clapping and the cheering, I take control of <i>my</i> song like I'd never let go. </span></div>
<div class="p7" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But tell me, did you sail across the sun?</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And that heaven is overrated?</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p7" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My friend joins me, because we both sang this song together long ago in college, and she credits herself as the one who introduced me to the song. Our voices echo in perfect symphony, I was back in college when we had dedicated the song to our then boyfriends. </span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Ten years on, her boyfriend was sitting on the couch in front of us, grinning and filming us sing together on his phone. </span></div>
<div class="p7" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star–</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">One without a permanent scar?</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p7" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My fingers itch, wishing I had my guitar to play along too. </span></div>
<div class="p7" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">~</span></div>
<div class="p7" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="s1"><i>The wind gushes past my face, as music blares into my ears, while I stand at the footboard of the train. I am in no hurry to make my way home today, smiling to myself as I take my usual </i></span><i>moderately crowded</i><i> 06.17 Andheri slow. My thoughts are a strange amalgamation of the woman from last night, band practices from long ago, cobbled streets and cheese omelettes. </i></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The last boy I sang Drops of Jupiter to, the one with the dimpled smile and the softest brown eyes. </span></i></span></div>
<div class="p7" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><i><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet?</span></b></i></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><i><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day</span></b></i></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><i><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And head back to the Milky Way?</span></b></i></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><i><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And tell me, did Venus blow your mind?</span></b></i></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><i><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Was it everything you wanted to find?</span></b></i></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><i><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?</span></b></i></span></div>
<div class="p7" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="s1"><i></i></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I think about how I was so convinced of how life was going to turn out back then. </span></i></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I had never been so wrong. </span></i></span></div>
<div class="p7" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="s1"><i></i></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">~</span></span></div>
<div class="p7" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It is hard to ignore the slight shiver that runs down my spine as she curls her arms around my waist for my favorite verse. Apparently, its her favorite too. I shift so the mike is between us now and I put my arm around her too, awkwardly half-hugging her as we sing like we’ve done this a million times before. In reality, I have never done anything like this in a really long time. </span></span></div>
<div class="p7" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Can you imagine no love, pride, deep-fried chicken?</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Your best friend always sticking up for you even when I know you're wrong</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Can you imagine no first dance, freeze dried romance, five-hour phone conversation?</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The best soy latte that you ever had and me</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p7" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">She turns to me and gives me that beautiful toothy smile, and I swear I am a goner. </span></span></div>
<div class="p7" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet?</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And head back toward the Milky Way?</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And tell me, did you sail across the sun?</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And that heaven is overrated?</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p7" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My friend catches the look on my face from the other end of the room, and smiles to me. Her boyfriend smiles too and zooms in on his phone camera which has been filming us all sing, to only me and her now. My friend fades out her notes until its only the two of us singing. </span></span></div>
<div class="p7" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And tell me, did you fall for a shooting star,</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">One without a permanent scar?</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself?</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p7" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p7" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day?</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Na na na na na na na na na na na na na na</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And did you fall for a shooting star, fall for a shooting star?</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Na na na na na na na na na na na na na na</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><b><span style="color: #d9ead3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And now you're lonely looking for yourself out there.</span></b></span></div>
<div class="p5" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We finish the song together and it was magic. </span></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My friends jump up and everyones laughing and cheering and clinking sangria glasses together, happy to have had this slice of college back. Everyone feels 17 again. </span></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p4" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A minute later, I turn around to search for her, only to find that she’s already left. </span></span></div>
<div class="p5" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">~</span></div>
<div class="p5" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i></i><br /></span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Its 11.54 AM in the night, and I am flipping through channels to see whats on TV when a beep on my phone alerts me to an incoming media file. Without particularly paying attention to my phone, I let it download. My phone alerts me again when its done downloading, and I swipe it open. </i><i>Its the video that my friends boyfriend took last night of us singing. </i></span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I watch the whole thing with a smile on my face. Singing along too, because its impossible not to. At the very end of the clip, I see her walking away with her two friends when I was busy hugging my friends and laughing and talking. </span></i></div>
<div class="p5" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i></i><br /></span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Just before she takes the stairs to leave the room, she turns towards me and smiles. </span></i></div>
<div class="p5" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">~</span></div>
<div class="p5" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Annie.</span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">P.S.: Full disclosure. Most of this story is <span class="s2"><b>not</b></span> a work of fiction. The keyword being, <i>most</i>. Suffice it is to say that I have taken creative liberties with how the night ended. :D </span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Gorgeous girl, this is for you. In a different lifetime, in a different place, we could have been something amazing together. Stay awesome. :) </span></div>
<div class="p5" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">P.P.S.: Title courtesy the band that needs to be credited for coming up with the song that has been an absolute favorite for so many years now!</span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">—————————————————————————————</span></div>
<div class="p6" style="text-align: center;">
<i><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Now Playing: Drops of Jupiter | Train (Taylor Swift live cover)</span></b></i></div>
</div>
IceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835959360693086550.post-32453503465501141492015-02-23T00:16:00.001+05:302016-12-19T22:20:44.972+05:30Stars on TV*<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>*this post objectifies the gorgeous men on TV currently... because clearly I have run out of things to talk about on this blog. Enjoy / skip over as per your tastes.</i><br />
<br /></div>
Brad Pitt may be the original Hollywood golden boy, and the quintessential 'hottie', but there is no denying the fact that TV land is the candy store thats scattered with all kinds of mouth watering candy. Case in point, these fine, <i>fine</i> men.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Gabriel Macht <i>as Harvey Specter, Suits</i> </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivu1mQDS5ia5imaiRwS996BITj1eXQil52KupTvjjbIu1VxCo1AvTUZCJRKQLRlI_VU81eLqpceqBhi_k3aAYeRFTpsUwL9eoT_JZ5eHA0ZIcNOBa9xEp79s_qIIjG4rfve2gdWpf6FjE/s1600/hottie+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivu1mQDS5ia5imaiRwS996BITj1eXQil52KupTvjjbIu1VxCo1AvTUZCJRKQLRlI_VU81eLqpceqBhi_k3aAYeRFTpsUwL9eoT_JZ5eHA0ZIcNOBa9xEp79s_qIIjG4rfve2gdWpf6FjE/s1600/hottie+1.jpg" width="550" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
I have never been a fan of courtroom dramas (not even books featuring them) but <i>Suits</i> changed all that. Dressed that sharp in those superbly expensive Tom Ford suits & shooting off wisecracks like a boss? Sigh. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
~</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Stephen Amell <i>as Oliver Queen, Arrow</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRY3ETMCsgL0s5Cd2Mn3QPaPPpSIt5IIJk_EyoG-GHy0t4a8AYuuOOOOaCZkUuGfJCA5SCjE3f1OeJpo0SImROBM8LFDQ8a3rkt3Ow7sLiHubwpsohzxYdUPJpzV5ST11qBm-miezyzAE/s1600/tumblr_mrhpphiDxd1r8vrnoo1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRY3ETMCsgL0s5Cd2Mn3QPaPPpSIt5IIJk_EyoG-GHy0t4a8AYuuOOOOaCZkUuGfJCA5SCjE3f1OeJpo0SImROBM8LFDQ8a3rkt3Ow7sLiHubwpsohzxYdUPJpzV5ST11qBm-miezyzAE/s1600/tumblr_mrhpphiDxd1r8vrnoo1_500.gif" width="550" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
People with doubts, must check out <a href="http://www.buzzfeed.com/cwarrow/13-very-convincing-reasons-you-should-be-watching?b=1#2b5rx0j" target="_blank">this post</a> which pretty much summarizes it all.<br />
Those upside down pushups(?) who even does those IRL?!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLwf6zLxkOuoqgNufIxf45LTKWn8M_cyulvpwh_KVti7gimm05G1emt3lzV4qiz9bxkP7nQY-_QetYYg1YisuM-3YhGfCMPXyhG-lZ3cTQVsOmlntdr9rhuokEIdDHbXrklnkKxYJvQ4M/s1600/green_arrow_arrows_stephen_amell_oliver_queen_1280x800_23372.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLwf6zLxkOuoqgNufIxf45LTKWn8M_cyulvpwh_KVti7gimm05G1emt3lzV4qiz9bxkP7nQY-_QetYYg1YisuM-3YhGfCMPXyhG-lZ3cTQVsOmlntdr9rhuokEIdDHbXrklnkKxYJvQ4M/s1600/green_arrow_arrows_stephen_amell_oliver_queen_1280x800_23372.jpg" width="550" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
~</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Matt Bomer a<i>s Neal Caffery, White Collar</i> </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgbBOgaEgLUaO3kghyWqHMKyV9aEpO_Mcj5RqT4uSwFQngfx3rM6XXHZ4B3IILHrrnATO5UExrkTK1ZWWhVFr4hklRXpAhetk7CPh0Lm6hafRHLouieyDHzx17KwIJ6yI__ruqmWNNCFY/s1600/matt1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgbBOgaEgLUaO3kghyWqHMKyV9aEpO_Mcj5RqT4uSwFQngfx3rM6XXHZ4B3IILHrrnATO5UExrkTK1ZWWhVFr4hklRXpAhetk7CPh0Lm6hafRHLouieyDHzx17KwIJ6yI__ruqmWNNCFY/s1600/matt1.gif" width="550" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Such a loss for the straight / bisexual womenkind.. Look at that smile. :)<br />
On the other hand, rejoice all gay men, you bagged one good lookin' winner. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
~</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Joseph Morgan <i>as Klaus, TVD / The Originals</i> </b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUXdwlSiikJN1lkqaajWZACaEWXiD7j0Rgp3A1JaKIR8ffvVFLY_hqZPQw9c07E0QlbXHxahlv-pdXxXjvr9UBr_tr8ebyqMG7twmfD9H5A5V-yXS4zdFcX9WCLxjI9RsOfV5BDxiO7RI/s1600/klaus-mikaelsons-most-wicked-gifs_02.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUXdwlSiikJN1lkqaajWZACaEWXiD7j0Rgp3A1JaKIR8ffvVFLY_hqZPQw9c07E0QlbXHxahlv-pdXxXjvr9UBr_tr8ebyqMG7twmfD9H5A5V-yXS4zdFcX9WCLxjI9RsOfV5BDxiO7RI/s1600/klaus-mikaelsons-most-wicked-gifs_02.gif" width="550" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: left;">Two words. British accent. </span><br />
<span style="text-align: left;">People who refer to women as "love" usually sound weirdly creepy... </span><span style="text-align: left;">but this guy? Mm.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: left;">~</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Ian Somerhalder <i>as Damon Salvatore, TVD</i> </b><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB8JHS7uSogNUebh5BBDtDc3dXFdCAc4W8GUv-_U0VFq3Gi-joHHcIieR_1gZGCrBAylI1FCoVjtfLKzDJhJwr8_zHAS7vlr1f-P3TrVezxSW4t7szWFjSqAxvLH-79QbXddmpxfC4fnk/s1600/damon.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB8JHS7uSogNUebh5BBDtDc3dXFdCAc4W8GUv-_U0VFq3Gi-joHHcIieR_1gZGCrBAylI1FCoVjtfLKzDJhJwr8_zHAS7vlr1f-P3TrVezxSW4t7szWFjSqAxvLH-79QbXddmpxfC4fnk/s1600/damon.png" width="550" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Damon's first look in the series... and damn. Hook line and sinker. </i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: center;">Truth be told, I've been a fan since he was Boone Carlyle on LOST (remember that series that started so good and ended so bad?). Never quite figured out why his character was written off. His current whereabouts are as bad boy, Damon Salvatore on TVD. It is no secret that the passionate</span></span> animal welfare / environmental activist that this guy is, is a MAJOR attractiveness factor for me. A cutie with a golden heart? YES.<span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span><!--3--><!--3--><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHLa3-cSrOYW-UGRtWYAKzFh5bVWewOv1xCjE6WLk3JHo0Ftkqm4ZHmZW_aInxFnwq1Vv6hC1fxCAplagUNxjwhYscamsDvyDLmHzFS-1Cxbahf5fI3V9WU-rSrUhX6PokybesxpYSZ_Q/s1600/original.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHLa3-cSrOYW-UGRtWYAKzFh5bVWewOv1xCjE6WLk3JHo0Ftkqm4ZHmZW_aInxFnwq1Vv6hC1fxCAplagUNxjwhYscamsDvyDLmHzFS-1Cxbahf5fI3V9WU-rSrUhX6PokybesxpYSZ_Q/s1600/original.gif" width="550" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
So am I Damon, so am I. :P</div>
<span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span>
<span style="text-align: left;">~</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Matthew Gray Gubler <i>as FBI Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid, Criminal Minds</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7p80_Y8pyJ6ce_kZpYMZKSBC9GjS_pZ_cROfCAbwxcdaE8MZqoHK1DqAWEE8U4YEywkCJXQ4EZldOTwBabXNG6YOVRNYsiZ6CHBOUIv_xhZ6G1UssjCFbG5Bez8jSu80uvgozVahzQjQ/s1600/Hottie+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7p80_Y8pyJ6ce_kZpYMZKSBC9GjS_pZ_cROfCAbwxcdaE8MZqoHK1DqAWEE8U4YEywkCJXQ4EZldOTwBabXNG6YOVRNYsiZ6CHBOUIv_xhZ6G1UssjCFbG5Bez8jSu80uvgozVahzQjQ/s1600/Hottie+6.jpg" width="550" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Hottest nerd on TV. He is not the stereotypical ripped hottie (then again he used to be a model, so he is understandably lean)... but damn! He is a talented artist, he is crazy funny IRL, and his acting skills make SSA Spencer Reid so <a href="http://www.buzzfeed.com/hnigatu/why-matthew-gray-gubler-is-the-nerd-of-your-dreams" target="_blank">ridiculously endearing</a>. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAk7RCTGU3U6ZfNVC8hPdpxKXgm6hgb6-SRUJLqQ1weqYPnpJK5KW4XBbRmUcFJ76Ozm0bCQxnrGIUFOZtc2GawOKw_84NvljU_wINzE38K6UaTfG8FZsdlBg343IX4WM5hxPOHE9lbwI/s1600/mgg1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAk7RCTGU3U6ZfNVC8hPdpxKXgm6hgb6-SRUJLqQ1weqYPnpJK5KW4XBbRmUcFJ76Ozm0bCQxnrGIUFOZtc2GawOKw_84NvljU_wINzE38K6UaTfG8FZsdlBg343IX4WM5hxPOHE9lbwI/s1600/mgg1.gif" width="550" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Move over Sheldon Cooper, someone has more Ph.D's than you. :P</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(<i>He sports longish hair and an almost anorexic body for the first few seasons, </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>which is not at all flattering!</i>)<br />
<br />
~</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Jensen Ackles <i>as Dean Winchester, Supernatural</i> </b><br />
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGNg-fsAotjm3agVWto-lOM4VZiPcuL_O9MiOug5Fx-X2EMt3TONkbmpY3ls-_f_bG5KC3HJ_jitqffL8vGTLEepHMc4rH7Jpo41q7KdcLPRi5aZ_Eqdb7DZEMTJQ5jY_plpe4xqmzwIk/s1600/hottie+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGNg-fsAotjm3agVWto-lOM4VZiPcuL_O9MiOug5Fx-X2EMt3TONkbmpY3ls-_f_bG5KC3HJ_jitqffL8vGTLEepHMc4rH7Jpo41q7KdcLPRi5aZ_Eqdb7DZEMTJQ5jY_plpe4xqmzwIk/s1600/hottie+5.jpg" width="550" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Many have argued that he is probably not the best looking guy on this list, but then again, you know what they say about love at first sight i.e. at Season 1, Episode 1? :D Slammmm dunk.<br />
Practically everyone knows I am a *HUGE* Dean Winchester fan. His character has all these goofy, funny and sometimes heartbreakingly poignant moments, its hard to NOT be in love with this guy. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
<b>~</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Jared Padalecki <i>as Sam Winchester, Supernatural</i></b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirR__om5FYPRg1eP0ZfCfemoB5Aa10bg3sYr9ltOa-HgVCqGceT9f0EO38xIUV0JZe86ITzj-dBxQE2PjwpOSnOM_JWigC4KyMO74SuCTwRauN1w-T2a-_0G_a3QXoDo3vq_ct5jkRpv4/s1600/Sam-sam-winchester-1155197_1311_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirR__om5FYPRg1eP0ZfCfemoB5Aa10bg3sYr9ltOa-HgVCqGceT9f0EO38xIUV0JZe86ITzj-dBxQE2PjwpOSnOM_JWigC4KyMO74SuCTwRauN1w-T2a-_0G_a3QXoDo3vq_ct5jkRpv4/s1600/Sam-sam-winchester-1155197_1311_1920.jpg" width="550" /></a></div>
<br />
He is a GIANT of a gorgeous man. He is the lesser favorite of the Winchester brothers, but a dear one nevertheless. But hands down, he is the better entertainer at a comic-con. I have spent HOURS of my life just watching the comic-con videos where my favorite three people from Supernatural have acted like totally adorable doofuses :P <br />
<br />
<b>~</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Misha Collins <i>as Castiel, Supernatural</i></b><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUaFO_c5LTwSQ_E6uEPJLTR2m3dyizbOIe1SCz776oEzoWpNrnXQ1BOieu0DSc_U9WlbFy6822X_aa_S11889kAvilbFXlMHYTblg-hp4y6OrpGntHaEpjkkQ3_4R8D0bd0l48vj7F_EE/s1600/Castiel_shows_his_wings.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUaFO_c5LTwSQ_E6uEPJLTR2m3dyizbOIe1SCz776oEzoWpNrnXQ1BOieu0DSc_U9WlbFy6822X_aa_S11889kAvilbFXlMHYTblg-hp4y6OrpGntHaEpjkkQ3_4R8D0bd0l48vj7F_EE/s1600/Castiel_shows_his_wings.png" width="550" /></a></div>
<br />
Castiel is the clueless angel thats just... appeared into the series and has remained a regular since. He is adorable, wears the same clothes, but has the sweetest puppy look on his face that can melt anyone. In real life, he is the prankster president of all things INSANE (<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JWYfM6DV0P0" target="_blank">with a pretty insane resume</a>). :P<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><i>Honorable Mentions</i></b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Niel Patrick Harris. Barney Stinson, HIMYM. </b>Ofcourse, who doesn't love Barney Stinson. I always thought he was hot!! And to much dissent, I shipped Robin & Barney from the moment they liked each other for the very first time, till the end. Someday I will write a post about this ugh. :/<br />
<b><br /></b><b>Patrick Dempsey. Derek Shepard, Grey's Anatomy.</b> The hair. The way he says 'Mmm' while smiling adoringly at Grey. Whenever he said "It's a beautiful day to save lives!" in the earlier seasons, brings an instant smile to my face. :)<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>Eric Dane.<i> </i>Dr. Mark Sloan, Grey's Anatomy. </b>Who has forgotten the McSteamy post-shower scene yet? NOT ME. And it happened ages ago! At one point, he sutures his own face. How badass is that. (I realize that is totally made up - I am guessing people cannot <b><i>actually </i></b>do that to their own faces.. but still.) </div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b>
<b>Josh Holloway. Sawyer, LOST.</b> Since he is not on TV anymore, he isn't on the list, but dayum that Texan accent and the dimpled smile! Also, I am such a sucker for bad boys. :/ How can anyone resist a hot conman? </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>Chad Michael Murray, One Tree Hill.</b> Again not on TV anymore, but the 17 year old me was so in love with this guy... I had his desktop wallpapers (& I must mention, I was not allowed to fangirl, because it was not "age appropriate" back then! :P ) </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
~ Annie.<br />
<br />
P.S.: I realize its unfair of me to write a hotties list that doesn't have any women on it, maybe I will do a take two sometime in the future?<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
-------------------------------------------------------</div>
Now Playing: Ready For Love | Bad Company (OST Supernatural)</div>
IceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835959360693086550.post-80568700173315975292014-11-16T08:24:00.002+05:302014-11-16T08:24:42.438+05:30Recap! (And this may get long!)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
Considering this god awfully long tag of mine wont be done before the end of this year, I might as well do the traditional year end recap post right now.. So. 2014. Wow holy fuck its almost over. When did THAT happen?! :/ This year was filled with all kinds of ups and downs, but like always, lots of learning happened. </div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #f9cb9c;">You always have a choice, when you’re letting others make the call for you, you are CHOOSING to let them take control. </span></b></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
I have never really talked about this publicly before, because I want to avoid drama, but after 3+ years of working in the animal welfare community, it finally came to a point where I threw my hands up in the air and said fuck this shit. This community is filled with the craziest, bitchiest… plain weirdest people I have ever known, and what bugged me the most was their refusal to listen to someone younger than them (read, me). Inflated egos, disorganization and politics - its all there. Like any other non profit sector I suppose, but this was just… unreal. I kept trying to not let it affect me, but full disclosure, it did. Badly. I do not like being hated for no reason (its not even the jealous-hate or the hate-your-guts-hate… its the I-truly-think-you-are-evil-hate!). My personal life which includes my friends, my guy.. is NOT available for flippant discussion. It made me irritable, upset and always so anxious. I don’t like feeling that way, because I LOVE being happy and witty, spread joy and confetti all around… I’m that kind of a sing and dance person. So in totality, life sucked. </div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
So I quit. And just to be clear, I quit the community, not my work. How can I ever abandon the responsibility of helping an animal in need? If I have motherly feelings for anything, its the fur babies.. and quite obviously, I can get fiercely protective about all of them. :)</div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #f9cb9c;">Growing apart is sometimes a natural course of growing up. Accept it and move on. </span></b></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
This epiphany happened this year. Something I had felt bitterly upset about for years now - growing distance between me and close friends / family, I have known for more than a couple of decades. I kept trying to find… reasons, why it happened or why it was happening, until randomly one July day I realized that there is no reason. We all just grew up, and we are all very different people. I am glad that despite people drifting away, I still have some besties who have stepped in to fill the shoes… and life is okay. Nothing major broke, everything works fine, distance grew but bonds haven’t been completely severed… they are just there. Keep calm and move on. </div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #f9cb9c;"><b>Every once in a while, get away from everyone. Switch off the internet, TV, phone. Disappear. Feels fucking brilliant.</b> </span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
I did this for two months earlier in the year, albeit for a study break (I did not do very well lol turns out I am… less smart than what I used to be with Math :P ). I ACTUALLY went off Facebook, people emailed to ask me WTF happened? Awww. :) Two whole months, it was awesome. I came back with the hugely appreciated ‘Minions, I am back. :D’ status and life got back to crazy haha. </div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #f9cb9c;">Even the most confident people have their moments of weaknesses. Sometimes you need your friends to be strong on your behalf. </span></b></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
When I made the decision to quit, I was suddenly engulfed with this feeling of not knowing what to do next. I doubted EVERYTHING about myself, simply because I had been in the company of people who constantly put me down for so long. I have NEVER doubted myself - I was always confident in my abilities, and I knew exactly the kind of things I was good at, the kind of things I was okay at and the things I absolutely sucked at. It was always very clear. I had my life planned out, because I am that person who makes lists and thinks of 5 years into the future… and then suddenly one fine day, I woke up and I didn’t know who I was anymore. Cardiac-arrest scary. </div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
What do I do next? I wallow in self pity for a long time before Best Friend #1 calls me out on my irritated-ness and general bitchy attitude and we end up having a heart to heart where we practically break down all the problems to find solutions. Then Best Friend #2 tells me about how she believes in me, and how she tackled things when she was going through something similar. Then Best Friend #3 who didn’t really have much advice to offer, simply sent me a stream of jokes and made references to our situational jokes to lift spirits. And so on. I feel like the luckiest idiot in the world to have these people care for me so much. I love you all itna saara. <3 p=""><div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #f9cb9c;">Take a leap of faith. Life will work out, and even if it takes longer for it to work out, its OKAY. Its a new experience. </span></b></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
I had to redo resume for the first time in YEARS, and then I took up the next first fancy job I got offered. Haven’t sold my soul to the corporates back, still in the NGO sector, still changing and saving the world yo! :D I feel lucky to be around people that really do want to save the world. :) </div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #f9cb9c;">Do activities with your friends. Drinking yourself to a stupor does not count as a group activity. :P</span></b></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
I did beginners French with the guy and friends. We had SUCH A GREAT TIME. :D Also, makes for some pretty great FB updates lol. </div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #f9cb9c;">Age is just a number. Or so I will have myself believe, okay? </span></b></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
I am not ready to consider that I am closer to 30 than to 23 (hitherto known as the heyday year). :/ On the bright side there is no one who has met me and guessed me to be above 25, which is both a blessing and curse, because on one hand, yay you think I look like a fresher, how cute, and on the other hand, aye! take me seriously, technically I am your boss! :P</div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #f9cb9c;"><b>Make time for doing what you like in life, and happiness will follow. </b> </span></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
Truly the biggest lesson of em’ all. Every time I have made time to do something that made me feel good, I have slept better, felt better, behaved better… just generally being a ray of sunshine for everyone around me. Such a happy thing to be no? </div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: #f9cb9c;">TV shows with the best soundtracks, are my absolute bane. Wait, make that TV shows in general.</span></b></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
I am such a TV show whore, its not even funny! …. :/ I am OBSESSED, someone needs to compel me to forget how to erm.. get these shows in the first place. (TVD reference haha, and no you may not judge me for watching this inane show, because Ian Somerhalder okay?). This may also be the reason why I do not read, write, have much of a life outside of my TV and my HDDs anymore. Ugh. </div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
Much love,</div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
Annie. </div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
P.S.: There were obviously a lot more learnings, but in the interest of time, reader sanity and dying laptop battery… :D</div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
______________________________________________________________________</div>
<div class="p1" style="text-align: justify;">
Now Playing: Unbreakable | Jamie Scott</div>
</3></div>
</div>
IceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835959360693086550.post-87753218035180410022014-10-28T00:48:00.000+05:302014-10-28T00:48:04.038+05:30Quirks (some)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Honestly, I could not get a decent word for 'Q', and then halfway through a LOTR post on 'Quest', I wrote 'quirk' and that was it.<br />
<br />
<i><span style="color: #d9ead3;">Quirk #1: Unless, I am absolutely satisfied with it, I will never publish a blog post. </span></i><br />
<br />
Life has been pretty hectic lately. My sleep schedule is all fucked up, thanks to a new job that is the farthest away from home I've had to travel (including the time in college!), so I leave home at the odd hour of 8.00AM. Seriously, I've spent the last 5 years of my work life, waking up at 10.00... so this was hard to do. Thankfully, I manage to get home at a decent hour, so I have been OD-ing on some pretty good TV series.<br />
<br />
<i><span style="color: #d9ead3;">Quirk #2: I cannot do the watch-one-episode-a-week thing with TV series. I have been known to watch entire seasons back to back, not knowing what to do with my life anymore once it has all ended.</span></i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Also, a couple of weeks ago, I was out grocery shopping (ugh, so... domestic), and I happened to notice the absolute <b><u>bane</u></b> of my existence sitting pretty in a display window. I went in and got ...5 pairs. And then came home and started a new series.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlfKXkjlnMzmK_W8qh9_kkP93j-jkUXn2AIzf0W8JggFue-LrMY9UaRhPtauJDHNJn2cN-VvuhxoNLZ9rR2R9X7h9elwAKMHbd13lQk-G64RxTlCpd7zrLXHDunmhSziXHweIYNEARQiw/s1600/10639368_10152760182191204_3747979115056119147_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlfKXkjlnMzmK_W8qh9_kkP93j-jkUXn2AIzf0W8JggFue-LrMY9UaRhPtauJDHNJn2cN-VvuhxoNLZ9rR2R9X7h9elwAKMHbd13lQk-G64RxTlCpd7zrLXHDunmhSziXHweIYNEARQiw/s1600/10639368_10152760182191204_3747979115056119147_n.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="text-align: center;"><b>New Series:</b> The fascinating </span><i style="text-align: center;">Californication</i><span style="text-align: center;">, which I religiously avoided all these years because someone told me a long time ago, <i>I should totally watch it, because</i> </span><i style="text-align: center;">I will understand Hank in a heartbeat.</i><span style="text-align: center;"> Which obviously, I did. Sigh. </span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;"><b>Bane of my existence:</b> SOCKS! I am a sock whore.</span> Period. I mean look at that pair, thats my new favorite one. Isn't that yellow adorable?!<br />
<br />
<i><span style="color: #d9ead3;">Quirk #3: I must wear socks, all the freaking time. I would attribute the lack of any kind of scarring on my feet, thanks to this quirk. </span></i><br />
<br />
Someone on my TL shared about the FRIENDS movie. Come on people, just Google things up when in doubt. Clearly a hoax. But FRIENDS. Its comfort series, just like comfort blanky or comfort food.<br />
<br />
<i><span style="color: #d9ead3;">Quirk #4: I can recollect every dialogue, from every scene, every gag reel, from every single FRIENDS episode. </span></i><br />
<br />
Speaking of FRIENDS, I do believe I have the best ones ever. India is being a huge dick, and has banned my favorite FB page - God - so I was pretty annoyed and disgruntled most of today evening. I started a thread about #ManCandyMonday because really, hot men with hot abs and hotter smiles are my morphine to the idiocy that is the human race. However, friends decided to throw in this -<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFfphtF5RD4NPQ_ACBYkyL4G_CJ1xkCJCAe9HoRKphCuSLrK63aDgoLUjOF46fvjc0tZhi14CtvtoXzds_bzyYCchfocITlMghDTcucczlYr1oilZZJlZLySCcbThocJMTYIjkuQJqXh4/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-10-28+at+12.41.12+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFfphtF5RD4NPQ_ACBYkyL4G_CJ1xkCJCAe9HoRKphCuSLrK63aDgoLUjOF46fvjc0tZhi14CtvtoXzds_bzyYCchfocITlMghDTcucczlYr1oilZZJlZLySCcbThocJMTYIjkuQJqXh4/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-10-28+at+12.41.12+AM.png" height="640" width="364" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">*Khokla - Marathi for coughing/wheezing :P </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
I was laughing so hard, I was wheezing for breath. Think I can go to sleep smiling, as opposed to angry out of mind as I was 3 hours ago.<br />
<br />
<i><span style="color: #d9ead3;">Quirk #5: Its not very difficult for my best friends to take my mind of tough times. Its only lately that I have truly come to realize the value of having someone like that in your life, because most people don't.</span></i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
Much Love,<br />
Annie.<br />
P.S.: I think I will do a whole rant on how it sucks to be Indian right now, sometime later.<br />
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
Now Playing: Breathe Me | Sia<br />
<br /></div>
IceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835959360693086550.post-61983741310739911862014-08-29T11:00:00.000+05:302014-08-29T11:00:00.315+05:30Pearl Jam<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's public knowledge how Pearl Jam is one of my very favorite bands. I have worshipped them ever since I heard the second track by them (the first did not catch my fancy too much).. and will continue to do so forever. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/nigF1ulBCQE?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><i>Future Days </i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
One of their newest tracks. Now I am not too fond of it per say, because it is not the vintage Pearl Jam, its a bit too… soft? But. It featured on the HIMYM season finale, and some other show, and I was hooked. It reminds me of Ted & Tracy and all the happiness I had imagined for them… until.. argh!!!^&%*&!@# HIMYM rant for another day.
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="https://ytimg.googleusercontent.com/vi/cs-XZ_dN4Hc/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/cs-XZ_dN4Hc&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/cs-XZ_dN4Hc&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><i>Black</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Back in college, I had saved up what was a small fortune for me then, to buy a new mp3 player as a birthday gift for the boyfriend. I ended up using it more than he did haha! He put his music collection on it, and this was one of the songs<b style="font-style: italic;"> -</b> I have been hooked ever since.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/hs8y3kneqrs?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><i>Yellow Ledbetter</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Many people do not recognize this song as the soundtrack to which Rachael chooses to get on the plane, after Ross tries to get her to stay, in the FRIENDS series finale. This song reminds me of that exact kind of sadness that transcends tears and heartaches and just leaves a hollow ache you do not know what to do with, in its wake.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="https://ytimg.googleusercontent.com/vi/rwHjzkc9w_Q/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/rwHjzkc9w_Q&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/rwHjzkc9w_Q&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><i>Nothingman</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I was unaware of this hugely underrated PJ song, until the aforementioned boyfriend passed me this video from Californication, of Hank reading a letter he had written for Karen. You have to see the video (above) to have your heart broken a little bit. Go on, give it a try.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/wGiTPgvKktM?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><i>Alive</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This is my favorite Pearl Jam song. That guitar riff, its brilliance. I will never tire of it in this lifetime.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Annie.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
P.S.: The first song that I heard of theirs which did not really wow me, was clearly the most overplayed, overrated <b>Last Kiss. </b>I've never been too fond of it, but considering every band in every college show HAD to butcher it.. it came to a point that I stopped liking it altogether. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
____________________________________________________________</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Now Playing: Losing Your Memory | Ryan Star</div>
</div>
IceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835959360693086550.post-11279851049929761152014-08-25T11:17:00.000+05:302015-02-22T23:28:39.229+05:30Obituary<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
He was like smoke. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Every once in a while, you'd think you could see him clearly enough to reach out and touch. He had a way with strings and words you know? He would balance his Fender on his knee and strum something ever so quietly. He would play for us sometimes. And when he was in the mood, he would sing too, in that beautiful deep voice. For a moment there, you'd think you could see him for the person he was, through all that obscurity. Just a blink, a heartbeat - you'd reach out, and he was gone. We all stayed there on the sidelines, strangers to him and his mysterious life. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
Him and the rest of the world? It was never meant to be. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I remember that one time, we all had camped out on the roof, back in 2003. It was a beautiful crisp late November evening, just the right nip in the air. The neighborhood was having a blackout, not unusual back then, and someone suggested taking the party upstairs. I saw him smoking at the far end of the terrace, and I came over to borrow a light. I noticed the calluses on his fingers as he took one long drag. He looked at me, and it felt like he could see right down to my deepest, unspoken secrets. Down to every bruise on my bones and every scar on my heart. I felt invaded. I was going through a brief goth phase, but the purple in my hair and the black of my attire did not help - my tough-girl exterior seemed insignificant, childish even. He flustered me. He almost said something, I remember, his lips parting slightly. Right that moment, someone suggested he play us his signature tune, <i>Layla</i>, and it was gone. He were in his unreachable place again.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Layla, you've got me on my knees. Layla, I'm begging, darling please.</i> </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It is funny how at times it feels like it was 2003, yesterday. Just a couple of hours ago. But it isn't. Whole months & whole years have passed in between then and now. He slipped in and out of the group at random, as most of them always did and no one took much notice. When someone asked, he told them he'd be back. He was always on the go, a nomad, always with a next-destination planned. Always alone. Always mysterious. Everyone always believed him, because you know... it was <i>him</i>. Off biking through the mountains or writing songs on the beach. He always said he could not stay still, stay in one place for too long, put down roots. "Boundaries bore me", I remember him saying. Between the lurches and lulls of time, no one realized they had not seen him for over two years.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I was probably one of the last ones to find out. It was almost 3 months before someone told me. <i>Oh by the way... did you hear? That guy? That guy who used to sing? He overdosed on sleeping pills. </i>Words caught among themselves in my throat, after all which question best defined what I really wanted to know? When? What? <i>Why? </i><br />
<br />
Isn't it funny how they pull out this one little thing about a person, when they pass away. That suddenly defines their entire existence, in a nutshell. I smile to myself.<br />
<br />
That guy who used to sing. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i style="text-align: left;"><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i style="text-align: left;">~</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i style="text-align: left;"><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i style="text-align: left;">It's such a huge arrogance, to love someone, and there's too much of it around. There's too much love in the world. Sometimes I think thats what heaven is - a place where everybody's happy because nobody loves anybody else, ever.</i></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<i><br /></i>
~ Annie.<br />
<br />
P.S.: This is not a new post. It has been lying in my drafts for over 3 years now. Recently a friend called asking for help with suicide helplines for her friend, thats when I vaguely remembered writing this ages ago. I came looking for it, and there it was.<br />
<br />
If you are depressed and need to just talk to someone, my inbox is always open [icemaiden(dot)87@(at)gmail]. I will not judge, I will not pry, I will not advise if you do not want me to, and most of all, I will empathize - because I have been there. And guess what, I made it out okay. A little battered, a lot scarred, but alright - and stronger. So trust me, if you have a sad story, I will beat you at it by telling you mine... so just ping me, I will listen. If you are in Mumbai, and someone you know needs help with suicide prevention, call <a href="http://www.aasra.info/" target="_blank">Aasra</a>. Your grades, your first love, life in general? It WILL be okay. I promise. Just hang in there.<br />
<br />
<b>You amount to so much more than you believe you do, my dearest one. :)</b><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
----------------------------------------------------------</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
Now Playing: Layla | Eric Clapton (MTV Unplugged) </div>
</div>
</div>
IceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835959360693086550.post-79774434306690208392014-08-20T18:23:00.001+05:302014-08-20T18:23:19.600+05:30New List<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="p1">
Less than 4 months away from turning 27 (wow, when did that happen?!), I am far from “young” and since it is no secret I am an obsessive list-maker, its time I finally got started on my <b>30 before 30</b>. There is not a shred of doubt that its been one hell of a trip so far. I loved my <a href="http://whitelilyz.blogspot.in/p/25-before-25.html" target="_blank">25 before 25</a>, and my <a href="http://whitelilyz.blogspot.in/p/26-before-26-new.html" target="_blank">26 before 26</a> wasn't too bad either - the guy calls it my “boast list”, which I think is fairly accurate! What can I possibly put on my new list? </div>
<div class="p2">
<br /></div>
<div class="p1">
I am in the middle of planning something SO exciting that it makes me weep with happiness just to think about it. So knowing fully well that at least <b>one</b> major item (and a few minor ones too!) of this brand new list is going to be crossed off soon, here is my new - and ridiculously ambitious too, for I will have to discover a treasure and/or trade a kidney for some of these things! - life list. </div>
<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<ol class="ol1">
<li class="li1"><b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">Go bungee jumping or sky diving.</span></b> Heights are strange - half of me is pee-in-your-pants terrified, and the other half wants to scream with joy at the adrenaline. This should be… interesting. </li>
<li class="li1"><span style="color: #f6b26b;"><b>Take a foreign language class.</b> </span>I have been putting this off since I was 22. FIVE years is a long time to procrastinate!</li>
<li class="li1"><span style="color: #f6b26b;"><b>Visit New York.</b> </span>I have been such a fan since FRIENDS, I cannot wait to actually be there, overrated as it may be. </li>
<li class="li1"><b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">Visit Paris.</span></b> This beats NY, so thats saying something. When most people say Paris, they think of the Eiffel Tower or the Seine, but for someone who <i>worships </i>F. Scott Fitzgerald, Hemingway and Camus, Paris is a whole new level of special<i> </i>for me. :) </li>
<li class="li1"><b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">Attend a concert / music festival.</span> </b>I have come close to doing this twice before, both times in college, and the opportunities have just vanished post college. I need to do this pronto before I actually get too old for such things! :/</li>
<li class="li1"><b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">Attend a comic con.</span> </b>And meet Jared Padalecki, Jenson Ackles, Misha Collins & totally freak the fuck out during the photo op.</li>
<li class="li1"><b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">Have enough savings to actually start generating interest on them.</span> </b>Seriously, its high time. Being in <i>actual</i> debt, can make a person truly understand the meaning of a penny saved<i>..</i> </li>
<li class="li1"><b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">Go on a road trip.</span></b> Live out of a car, drive endlessly, eat at diners and pick up lots of postcards. Whats not to love?</li>
<li class="li1"><b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">Take a dance class.</span> </b>Any dance class. I have been meaning to do this since I was 15 (since everyone went nuts about Shaimak’s Summer Funk, which sadly I could not afford!)</li>
<li class="li1"> <b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">Sell something that I made.</span></b> I have been making things for friends for years. Time to bring out my crafting things just to strike this off, if for nothing else. My 64-color-set of Copic Markers need using. </li>
<li class="li1"> <b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">Get a new tattoo.</span> </b>Time to stop whining that my tattoo artist moved away, me thinks! </li>
<li class="li1"><span style="color: #f6b26b;"><b>Do the Leh - Ladakh trip.</b> </span>Yet again, one of the few things I did not do on 25 before 25, so planned to do it before 26, but then the cloudburst happened and my plans (and tickets) went for a toss.. :(</li>
<li class="li1"><b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">Make new friends.</span></b> I want to be my 15 year old self again, who made & kept friends so easily.</li>
<li class="li1"><b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">Throw a self-made cupcakes party.</span> </b>Love cupcakes, hate cooking, love throwing parties, again, did I mention, hate cooking. Must find a balance with this one. Strangely, I really enjoy cleaning. Weird right?</li>
<li class="li1"><b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">Do ANY Project 365.</span></b> Tried once before, did not make it past day 43? :P This is much more difficult than it appears, so I think I will have to get creative about this one. </li>
<li class="li1"> <b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">Read 52 books in 52 weeks (or more) from <a href="http://whitelilyz.blogspot.in/p/reading-list.html" target="_blank">my reading list</a>.</span> </b>I think I’ve read most iconic books of all time, but there is still a ton to read, many of which are just sitting by themselves on my shelf. This is a book per week challenge that I am looking forward to starting anytime now.</li>
<li class="li1"> <b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">Design & code my own blog.</span> </b>I have designed many websites, and separately coded a few too (front end things, nothing too major, except my first project). This has been a dream project for too long, simply because the geeky me really really loves these two things thrown in together!</li>
<li class="li1"><b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">Go on a trek / camp under the stars.</span> </b>I am a city girl through and through, even though I do enjoy the great outdoors.. from a distance. Mostly, because having a clean washroom around is a mandatory condition on which I travel. I have never trekked in my life (I realize that reflects very poorly on me..), though I have always wanted to.. </li>
<li class="li1"><b><span style="color: #f6b26b;"> Character dress up.</span></b> Maybe a Halloween party or Comic Con. Sadly theme parties and/or costume shops are so hard to come by in Mumbai. :( </li>
<li class="li1"> <b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">Go watch a Broadway musical / ballet. </span></b>I have seen too many Broadway / ballet performances online, and have always being left mesmerized. Imagining what it would sound like in real life gives me goosebumps. Cannot wait for this one. </li>
<li class="li1"> <span style="color: #f6b26b;"><b>Either start painting again or give away goodies to nieces & nephews (or people who actually paint!)</b>.</span> I have not touched a paint brush in about three years now, and I refuse to part with all my lovelies. Result? My brushes, my easel and my beautiful messy palette gather dust under the bed. De-clutter. </li>
<li class="li1"><b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">Be absolutely happy & satisfied, career-wise. </span></b>I had a great career start, and seen a bunch of ups and downs since then. The quest for the "one" has been on for a while now. Sincerely hope I get this part right by the time this list is done. </li>
<li class="li1"> <span style="color: #f6b26b;"><b>Visit a Wonder of the World.</b> </span>I have never even seen the Taj! Quelle honte!! :( </li>
<li class="li1"> <b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">Learn to whip up 5 different cocktails.</span> </b>While both the guy & I exclusively prefer Glendfiddich or Merlot, every once in a while I enjoy a nice cocktail. It all started with the <i>Black Russian </i>at TGIF about… seven(?) years ago, and it has been something of a tradition ever since. I want to learn how to mix em’ all up like a pro at home now! </li>
<li class="li1"> <b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">Study abroad.</span></b> This has probably been one of my oldest dreams. Screwed up my chances the two times I came close to accomplishing this earlier.. thankfully life worked out okay. I am trying once again now, third time lucky hopefully eh? </li>
<li class="li1"> <b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">Finish our photo wall.</span></b> Renovations done, amazing colored wall ready, all that remains are the pictures. Between the two of us, we have about 5 TB of pics. Joy. </li>
<li class="li1"> <b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">Pay it forward for someone.</span> </b>Just to see what it feels like. :)</li>
<li class="li1"> <b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">Teach again.</span></b> Teaching was my first job. Giving it up was very tough, but I did it anyway…. but I have always wanted to do it again. Someday... someday. </li>
<li class="li1"> <b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">Forgive.</span></b> It is so much harder to close the door on a friendship than a romance or a family. A friend is supposed to be your family and your soulmate all rolled into in. Maybe, its time bygones were bygones? I dont know. This will need some soul searching.. </li>
<li class="li1"><b><span style="color: #f6b26b;">End my 29th year in style.</span> </b>Taking a page out of my 25-before-25, bringing in my 25th was pretty fucking amazing, so this calls for a repeat. :) </li>
</ol>
<div class="p2">
Annie.<br />
<br />
P.S.: Browsing through other 30 before 30 lists is making me chuckle, because.. well, been there done that. <b>"Kiss in the rain"</b> seems to be a popular choice. Wow. Crossing that off with flourish (and raging hormones) at 19, I thought it was more of a broke-college student with hot new boyfriend/girlfriend goal... :P<br />
<br />
P.P.S.: I fully expect this tag that I started in APRIL, to take the entire remainder of the year to actually finish. :/ </div>
<div class="p2">
______________________________________________________________________<br />
Now Playing : Back Where I Was | The Hereafter (OST Grey's Anatomy)</div>
</div>
</div>
IceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835959360693086550.post-61353317325927344272014-07-27T10:30:00.000+05:302016-12-19T21:50:51.019+05:30Miscellaneous Things ..<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
... I do when I am procrastinating. Like right now.<br />
<div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Stare into nothingness (I do this. A lot. #weirdoalert)</li>
<li>Excessively cuddle the boys. Case in point - </li>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh62c2hU_pvhgRNnS35JlmUuFFArW5WnN42ElfkJU4C2SmmA5hzOZltTdHyCO0l_UZhbvddCV53HYMwyUOZQTwhwiCK-eD_i9jkLnrnv6YESFra1X9sbZepsO21noRgoWz9B7W99i2Zrc/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh62c2hU_pvhgRNnS35JlmUuFFArW5WnN42ElfkJU4C2SmmA5hzOZltTdHyCO0l_UZhbvddCV53HYMwyUOZQTwhwiCK-eD_i9jkLnrnv6YESFra1X9sbZepsO21noRgoWz9B7W99i2Zrc/s1600/photo.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dusk's "HELP MOMS GONE ROGUE AGAIN" expression </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Write silly things.</li>
<li>Make lists. </li>
<li>Watch a new series. Ended up watching TVD season 1 - season 5 in two weeks. Please do not judge me, I was undergoing serious TV series withdrawal because I had nothing to watch, and also, Ian Somerhalder is <i>fucking </i>beautiful. (Needless to mention, he gets a million addition likes for the fact that he is an animal activist and has an adorable Scotch-lookalike boy called Moke. Aww raised to infinity yes?)</li>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://img2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20131028013253/degrassi/images/9/9a/Ian--Somerhalder.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://img2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20131028013253/degrassi/images/9/9a/Ian--Somerhalder.gif" height="176" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So. Hot. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Remind self that hot men will come and go, but Jensen Ackles' eyes will be greener than ever & he will always be the original A-bomb. </li>
</ul>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://25.media.tumblr.com/171c0cf2bb3dbf6af80dc1cfc89082b5/tumblr_ml2mx2tMRx1rzhyyio2_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/171c0cf2bb3dbf6af80dc1cfc89082b5/tumblr_ml2mx2tMRx1rzhyyio2_500.gif" height="179" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mm. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Re-watch old TV series. Ahem-Supernatural-Ahem. </li>
<li>Get a sudden spurt of creativity. Get crafting.</li>
<li>Browse through college pictures and get nostalgic. </li>
<li>Invent scenarios about possible futures.</li>
<li>Wikipedia random shit. </li>
<li>God help me if I get on <a href="http://listverse.com/" target="_blank">Listverse</a>....</li>
<li>Eat like a crazy person. Does binge eating have a nice-sounding disorderly name?</li>
<li>Read depressing news, watch depressing things, despair about the worthlessness of life (I am not kidding, if I get on the bad side of the internet, especially where puppies are dying, I cry. For hours..)</li>
<li>Read amazing news, watch inspirational videos, get freakishly happy about the prospect of being alive (If I get on the good side of the internet, I end up creating something beautiful. Usually a happy list or art..)</li>
<li>Clean the house like it is Diwali. It's not my fault, its my mothers genes.</li>
<li>Get an insane desire to call people I haven't spoken to in a while</li>
<li>Spend resultant next couple of days doing planned lunches, dinners, movies and unplanned hangovers </li>
<li>Take a long bath. How this helps is beyond me. </li>
<li>Secretly drink wine & smoke up while taking said bath.</li>
<li>Despair about how so much time has got wasted and now I do not have enough left to do the work I was supposed to.</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
Annie. </div>
<div>
P.S.: My mother once told me how if I would apply as much grey matter to studies as I did for things that had zero value in life, I would become really famous and earn a shit load of money. She lost me at studies.</div>
<div>
_____________________________________________________________</div>
<div>
Now Playing: Broken (acoustic) | Lifehouse</div>
</div>
IceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835959360693086550.post-89532461988680825932014-07-22T02:08:00.000+05:302014-07-23T00:12:37.021+05:30Love - Part 3<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
[Part 1 <a href="http://whitelilyz.blogspot.in/2014/06/love-part-1.html" target="_blank">here</a>]<br />
[Part 2 <a href="http://whitelilyz.blogspot.in/2014/06/love-part-2.html" target="_blank">here</a>]<br />
<br />
<b>How do we know that "the one" is, the one? Frankly, isn't it all too much pressure? Being a missing piece of a puzzle, magic and stars, confetti in the air et al. I do not believe in "the one". Atleast not in the romantic sense, no. I do believe in having a soulmate. Or many of em' idiots, if you are anything like me. Every single one of those soul sisters / brothers / friends / friends with benefits / ex's / that virtual entity you have never met, but felt a connection to. I truly believe in the magic of finding your own people - ones you can be completely insane & also uncharacteristically sane with.</b><br />
<br />
- -<br />
<br />
I was sitting at work, a wee bit tensed about a big presentation I was supposed to make. Ironically, it was supposed to be a "fun" presentation. In the middle of the day, I heard a guy coming out a cabin directly behind me say loud enough for me to hear "<i>.... Nadal is the best thing that's happening in tennis right now!</i>" Before I could stop myself (dammit woman!) I turned in my chair, to face this complete stranger, and add in what I think was a slightly annoyed voice, "<i>Please! Nadal will never be Federer.</i>"<br />
<br />
<b>[Pretty much everyone knows this story, thanks to it being in my wedding card. No kidding, check <a href="http://whitelilyz.blogspot.in/2012/03/sachin-enough-said-m.html" target="_blank">this</a>. We are awesome like that. Its pretty much the short version of how we got together. Continuing further, is the long version.]</b><br />
<br />
I got back to my work, desperate to finish it within time because I did NOT want to stay back late that day. Earlier that day, this <i>other</i> guy I had been hanging out with over the last few months, had had flowers delivered to the office. Seriously. This was 2011 and I was getting flowers delivered for me. I was fucking <b><i>thrilled</i></b>. Said guy had formally "asked" me out for dinner that night, and I intended on not carrying my work with me when I met him. After all, this was the first time I was officially going to go out with someone in a long fucking time.<br />
<br />
Know how sitcoms and well meaning books and magazines say, that before you find the "one", you have that one last romance that is a total and utter disaster? Yep. This was the one. Little is to be said about aforementioned romance, because it fizzled out soon. It was my second proper relationship, and at the end of it, I was.... really angry! I was so angry that sadness did not kick in for one second, before I wanted to throw something heavy around and break things. Which I think I did. Like what the fuck is wrong with the damn universe?! I was so done with rom-coms, and flowers (cringe), and chocolates and shit. So. Done.<br />
<br />
So for a brief few days, I was no heels all sneakers, hair pulled up, barking into faces, getting more work done than ever workaholic. Did not take long for Nutties (tennis guy, for people who haven't yet caught the drift) to ask me over messenger why I looked like I was on a warpath, I said, and I quote, "<i>Look, I am crazy. I have deep emotional baggage, I apparently drive the men in my life to near madness. I am so DONE with intense relationships, from now on, I declare that I am staying clear off men until I am like 30!"</i><br />
<br />
About 10 months later? Engaged! Another 6 months hence? MARRIED. So much for sweeping declarations, right Marshall<b>*</b>? :P</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<i>*what up smooth HIMYM reference!</i><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
~<br />
<br />
I have often been asked, why did I marry so young? I have always been told that I am by far the most-likely-to-try-comething-crazy, superbly impulsive, decidedly anti-family and annoyingly bratty wild child. After my previous trysts with romance, I was never too keen on commitment and all that jazz. So why now? Why so soon? Why <i>this </i>guy? What happens next? Why do we seem so perfect? (lol!)<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We are not perfect people. Ours is NOT a perfect romance. We both are just so astonishingly different, that sometimes I wonder if this is what makes this work. We have many flaws, and there have been days when we simply cannot stand each other. But then it hits you. Remember all of your flaws that you were left to face all alone once the love of your life walked away? All those flaws that made you desperately wish you could have a do-over? A different kind of life? A whole new universe where none of the horrible things you have gone through that have ended up shaping you, never happened? Your flaws are no longer getting the better of you ... because this guy is with you through it all. This is not just a boyfriend, this is a guy that is so above the rest, that the others before him appear so ridiculously incompetent now. This guy is not just some random dude you are shacking up with, this guy splits the bills, cuddles the cats, watches the matches WITH you. This dude is the real deal. He is, your person.<br />
<br />
Anyone who says marriage is easy, is probably not having enough fun. :P Okay kidding. Mine isn't easy. But through it all, here is this guy who has been my rock though so much, that I am an entirely new person. My best friend told me a while ago, that it looked like I had matured overnight. I laughed and said it was the side effect of being in major debt. :P (Buying a house is shit. Don't do it. Live off rent forever.) But its true.<br />
<br />
We dance in hallways in the middle of the night. We crack lame jokes and watch sappy TV shows on Sundays in our jammies and eat left over fish curry until we pass out from bliss. We plan trips, we get drunk, ahem-high-cough with friends and party on like we are 16. We bicker like an old married couple of silly things like the laundry or his gazillion socks lying around the home that I like kept neat and tidy. We photograph together, late movies is our thing. He watches his matches and I write. We cuddle with the boys. On some nights, we act like a bunch of kids on a sleepover and talk about utterly random things in the darkness, ranging from religion to parallel universes. This is literally as good as it gets yes?<br />
<br />
Nutties has done many amazing things for me - ranging from something simple like flowers to something so symbolic like holding me in the middle of the night, while I was having a mother of all meltdowns, sobbing like an idiot about how life is not working out for me (which it totally is, but I overthink everything!).. and telling me that no matter what, he will always, <i>always</i>, have my back.<br />
<br />
In some ways, this moment perfectly describes us, so in conclusion, I leave you with this.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBmvjbwmluGCWBI1aoufQrVQ0iLjZn1st_CHlDRHeJXP04tNUkEYwJg0oEO-nB7M2SNyurK7ga9NjigU5NpRSqIMSjHX2AoOIGIksNxZBKL1Z0DAq7sOwy4MmjAwdv76CYUC45yoeQaV4/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-07-06+at+12.11.30+AM.png" height="400" width="306" />
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span id="goog_1852902255"></span></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
~ Annie.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
P.S.: In short, I should be a case study for marrying ridiculously young, and doing it right. :)<br />
<br />
P.S.S.: I have way too many people on my FB so I am not too worried about my name out here. If you are going to add me, do drop a message so I know who you are :P<br />
_______________________________________________________<br />
Now Playing: Never Let Me Go | Florence & The Machine</div>
</div>
IceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835959360693086550.post-83423978684362368532014-06-19T05:14:00.002+05:302014-06-23T20:04:56.492+05:30Love - Part 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
[Part 1 <a href="http://whitelilyz.blogspot.in/2014/06/love-part-1.html" target="_blank">here</a>.]<br />
<br />
Engineering college. The time for epic love. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Beginning of second year, cupid properly struck me with one of those damned arrows. I met and fell in love (the at first sight kind) with this amazing guy, not from my class, and by the end of college, we were one of the most well known couples in college. After many ups and downs, snogging ensued over out-of-city class trips from Goa to Shimla, through many valentines, traditional days, sports festivals, cultural festivals, one very eventful scavenger hunt, a hundred plus public displays of... rage :P (back in the day when I had serious anger management issues), making up over cheese omelettes and Iranian tea <a href="http://www.zomato.com/mumbai/koolar-and-co-matunga-east" target="_blank">here</a> (Best. Irani. Cafe. Ever.) .... by beginning of my last sem, my very first relationship had crashed and burned to the ground.<br />
<br />
You know how they say that intense love has the capability to change you? Well it changed me. I was nothing like the person I was when I joined college by the time it ended. To be fair, it had a lot to do with the miserable time I was having in college (18-22 was probably the most difficult time I've had in my life). Out went the happy go lucky, carefree, ability to laugh at myself and in came the deeply cynical, sort of pathetic and doubt-ridden me. At the end of it all, my first relationship had stripped me down to my very core. When it ended, I couldn't breathe, because there are nothing happy and sunshine-y for me to hang on to. For the first time, I was faced with the prospect of examining every wrong call, every mistake, every hole in my life. It was hard getting to know me, and it was harder because no one told me how to climb out of the hole I had dug myself into, when the break up happened, and I was left dealing with this mess I'd created on my own. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
~</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In the story of my life's greatest fuck ups, the year 2009 should be given an award. In the summer of 2009, I was churning out sad, cough-poorly-written-cough blog posts like nobody's business. On some of those very first mopey blog posts, landed the people who would end up shaping the rest of the year & a large part of 2010 for me. One of those first people was a guy, who was living away from home, seemed really nice to talk to and had a great taste in music. We started talking, and before I knew it, we were talking all the freaking time. This was before, the guy became Blogger celebrity and every single female blogger wanted to be his "friend". :D</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Needless to say, this was a rebound. I was extremely lonely, and I had managed to push every single friend away by giving them all sorts of excuses. I spent all my time in this virtual world, and ended up depending more and more on this guy for some much needed humor and comfort. Within no time (and a huge telephone bill, ahem, this was ISD calling), I was pretty attached to this guy, who I was slowly considering to be one of my closest friends. I never told him anything, because I figured it was just a phase that was going to fade away, and I valued him too much as a friend.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Sometime soon after, I found out that this guy was in fact interested in this awesome girl on Blogger (who, funny story, ended up being great friends with me, and it all started with hate mail I believe hahahahhahahha... you know who you are, wink wink), that essentially put a stop to any feelings I had. Obviously it took some time for it to wind back down. It helped that I had just started working, so I was swamped with work and enjoying every minute of my new found freedom, making actual money :P ... and I was slowly reconnecting with my friends again.<br />
<br />
Then before I knew it, this guy, this really nice witty humorous person.... changed into this completely different guy I did not know anymore. I do not know if it was all the internet fame or what... I figured it was probably best to let the drifting away happen, so our talks pretty much boiled down to music and maybe catching up once in a while. Then out of the blue, one fine day, out of nowhere, this person ends up humiliating me by calling me a variety of things. Here I am, minding my own business, listening to songs, talking about work.... and then suddenly... BAM!!! a whole barrage of abuses. It really really hurt me to hear those things, coming from a <b>friend</b>! It crushed me to hear this person say all these things about me, because I am almost ashamed to admit this, I DO NOT know the appropriate way to respond to meanness! I have never been mean to anyone in my life - like the bitchy, mean just for the heck of being mean, mean because I am having a bad day so I will take it out on someone, kind of mean. (okay I did once joined in the laughter when the entire class was making fun of this girl in 6th grade, but I felt so guilty later that I went up to her and made lame jokes to make her laugh.... yes I am THAT nerd girl ugh) It sucked that I was being told all these horrible, judgmental things... from someone who had never even MET me!<br />
<br />
That day, I shut down everything and seriously contemplated deleting the blog and everything else. I felt like all of my online presence was this disgusting thing that I wanted to get rid of... icky cooties! :P I was ashamed that at 23, I had acted like I was 10 and blindly trusted someone, and set myself up for this kind of hurt. I did NOT need this reminder that I am not "strong", considering some jerk from behind a computer screen could actually make me dissolve into tears & hyperventilation like that. I honestly believed then that everyone online was as fake as he had turned out to be.<br />
<br />
Obviously, I am thankful I didn't go through with my grand plan. :)<br />
<br />
Because eventually, I realized that this jerk was no reason to say good bye to everything I had actually gained here on Blogger. There are so many things that would not have happened, had I actually thought of turning away from everyone I had already met / was yet to meet. Those people who showed up on my birthday with a printout of an email, with a chocolate cake in tow, and random yelling over the phone most of which constituted "OMGOMGOMGOMG". Those people who I have spent hours talking to, and nothing changed when I actually met them in person (maybe we put the crazy a notch higher, by sitting on roofs of houses and scaring the shit out of random people at 3AM). People who showed up unexpected in the middle of the night at home (yes that has happened, the joys of living in your own home also come with unexpected arrivals at bizarre times), because a friend is needed, and I always have alcohol. :P Someone who gave me a shiny TIARA for my birthday and walked around the mall with a styrofoam sword with 'Hermione Granger is awesome' written on it, because just, we are crazy like that. The same someone who I suppose is responsible for making me pursue a serious relationship with the man I would eventually marry (A, this sound familiar? "Aw come on you so totally have the hots for him!!!" "WHAT?! NO!" "Yes you do. You are texting him now aren't you?" "WHAT?! NO! YES! I hate you!" you totally reverse psycholog-ied me you smartass!) People who showed up for my wedding, like one giant Bloggers meet :P People who helped my friends get ready for the temple wedding, and some others who explained why waiting for spoons or forks was useless. People who I helped shop for their weddings a day before the event, and ended up being treated just like family at their special day. I am so kicked that pretty much half of my very best friends are people I've met online, and when online best friends met real life best friends, whether its a wedding or playing a board game at my home.... it is always LEGENDARY! The awesome times we all have had, driving random people on Facebook NUTS with our antics! I am grinning like an idiot just thinking about things I cannot mention in here because of ... er.. reasons... :P<br />
<br />
One bad experience vs a whole new family of awesome people is a pretty fair deal huh? :)<br />
<br />
Love,<br />
Annie.<br />
P.S.: I love you guys so much, I will totally dedicate the book I will eventually publish to you all. :P<br />
___________________________________________________________<br />
Now Playing: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qKRbGuem9Wg" target="_blank">Mahi Ve | Faakir</a> (SUCH an old song.... what the hell happened to Pakistani pop?!)</div>
</div>
IceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835959360693086550.post-17059515947686097722014-06-01T15:15:00.002+05:302014-06-11T00:50:59.520+05:30Love - Part 1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #f4cccc; font-size: 9;">(I am continuing the tag that I abandoned a month and a half ago.... because 1. I <b>ALWAYS </b>get creative when I am required to focus on something more important, namely studying. 2. I would like to stress that I am anything BUT a quitter. So yea. And this is long, you have been warned. Also, some of these scenes are so dream like and surreal, I am thrilled that it actually happened to me! My friends at the time revered me for how my "perfect" life was unfolding... hahahah!)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Cliched. Love? Really thats the best you can come up with Annie? But considering my teenage and young adult life has been one heck of a roller coaster, I think a <b>full disclosure</b> is due. Mostly because it is healthy for a future 50 and probably boring me to read someday about the 20-something did-you-really-fucking-do-that?! me. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #d9ead3;">I was in the 6th grade when I saw the person that is currently still the longest relationship(?) of my life. I had a tiff with a guy from my class (per usual), and was waiting after the home bell to go give him a piece of my mind. So I stomped over to his bus (no. was 17, jesus I have some memory), and demanded that a certain Mr. Rai come meet me. In a couple of seconds I was left stuttering like an idiot, because instead of Mr. Junior Rai.. Mr. One-Year-Senior Rai came over curiously to see me. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #d9ead3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #d9ead3;">I kid you people not, this guy firstly... wore pants. (We had half pants till 6th, 7th onwards full pants.. :P). He was an Adonis to my just-turned-teen eyes. He had a voice that had cracked (read, husky as hell), and behind geeky glasses, he had smoldering eyes. I recognised him later as the guy who headed the athletics team. More on that er...fetish later. In short, I was smitten. I was a smitten kitten. <b>ALL THE WAY TILL END OF SCHOOL</b>. This crush on a guy <u>who did not know I existed</u> (because I fled the aforementioned scene in a matter of minutes without saying anything..... faceslap?) lasted a whole FOUR years till end of school (was I lame or was I lame?!). </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
~</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Moving over. I realised I had a type. Has to be tall (which is funny considering I am myself really short!). Has to play some sort of sport / has to be athletic. (again funny considering I was anything but. I am lazy as lazy can be.) Has to have a great voice. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
All through my school life, my celebrity crush included exclusively this guy.<br />
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVk58_zCf7Mw71ZfE14jQYpqxIZLpTG1oco_Es2AwJZqM8ZQC3c29V0yNimhlSZIvUd8W46TwJZITkHPKTqkWz_1cqyvMnjHpe8hxgztb2ZiRbIfQlLo-CFo4mjkUoyKrj3EbLVSg0G3g/s1600/TOM+CRUISE+TOP+GUN+1980S.jpg" width="550" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Tom Cruise, in Top Gun. Remember this, he forms the basis of two VERY dramatic scenes of my life.</b> </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: red;">DRAMATIC SCENE 1: </span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Since this has already been explained in much detail (and my tendency for SMS language English) previously on the blog archives, I'll just cut it short. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Summer vacations between 11th & 12th grade, I visited my brother who was living in Hyderabad at that time. I was 17, and yet, again in one of those crazy moments, had decided to take a train journey ALONE. On the train, in true <b>Jab We Met</b> style (I shit you not, I swear the moment the movie came out, my best friends called me and said dude did you sell your life script?!), I met a gorgeous, shy, did I mention ridiculously good looking, sweet guy travelling to Secunderabad. He was 23, AND A PILOT IN THE IAF! Apparently he was supposed to be one of the 6 best (news article was not out yet, came out in May endish). While I was skeptical on the train, the pictures he later sent on email of him standing next to his red-silver jet (holy fuck!!) in full army uniform (OMGOMGOMG) proved otherwise. Tall, nice voice, sporty? Check, check, and a Sukhoi-30 HELL YES.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anyway, on the train stayed up all night talking. About Top Gun (hehe), aviation, books, life, crushes, careers, families. He was supposed to get off before me, but instead stayed in because I was getting off at last stop. :) Parted ways on the platform and never stayed in touch. Life was crazy. Got too busy with studies. Put him out of my mind when I returned to Mumbai, because lets face it. Fighter pilot and 12th standard super chatty college students aren't exactly the stuff fairytales are made up of. Sigh.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
After recounting this story for engineering friends on one of our last college night outs, and after realising what a HUGE mistake it had been to not stay in touch, we did the stalker bit trying to find him on Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, Plus. Bingo on LinkedIn but dead profile. So yep. That news article of him winning the trophy from May 2005 TOI, remains the only link to him. Sweet nostalgia. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
~</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: red;">DRAMATIC SCENE 2: </span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
For the 1st floor balcony of my junior college in 12th grade, I spied a guy walking casually across the volleyball court (my college was famous for its state level volleyball team). He looked JUST LIKE TOM CRUISE. I am not even kidding you. If it weren't for the fact that guy in question probably hates me right now, I would have uploaded his picture. Available on request on email? :P </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So what do I do about my blossoming crush? After a royally bombed Physics-1 exam, I handed in my paper 30 minutes before the bell rang, and stepped out into an empty corridor. Something you need to know about my college - we had a circular landing and a spiral staircase leading up. I walked into the empty landing, and saw the current real-life heart throb leaning casually against the railing on the opposite site. This was going to one of my trademark-Annie crazy moments... wherein well, I do something crazy. To this day, I haven't figured out why I did what I did next. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I walk up to this male body of perfection, and say, 'Hi!'. He looks a little taken aback, and says, '...Er. Hi?' Obviously still under my crazy spell, I ask him his name (at that point, obviously, like all teenage college girls with a crush, I knew everything publicly available to know about him. Including his name.) He smiles, flashing pearly whites that would make K (my dentist best friend) swoon, and introduces himself. The exam final bell rings. He asks for my name. I reply. Then I say, "<b>You know... you look like Tom Cruise. I think you look really cute!!</b>" People start filing into the landing. AND THEN I FLEE THE SCENE. (seems to a recurring theme huh? I actually turn on my heel and walk away without saying anything... I suppose it has a humor factor to it, but god was I nuts or what?!)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My friends come join me, and hysterically laughing at myself with my friends joining in (<i>something I did often back then! I was always the clown of the group, thus never really taking life's many disappointments very seriously... man life was good.</i>) - I tell them the hilarious and embarrassing tale of my flight. We giggle a lot and make our way downstairs. There, a friend of mine joins us to ask me how my exam went (funny story, I do not actually "know" this guy. he joined us in a crowded canteen one day because there was no place to sit, and me being me chatted nonstop. Ending up making friends). He overhears the story, and asks who I was referring to. I supply the name. He says, 'Oh, C?! He's in my Bio class!' And then he excuses himself. He came running back to me in 10 minutes. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Here's his number. He's asked you to call him." :) Thus goes the story of how I ended up dating a hot Tom Cruise lookalike in college. :P Long story short, dated for a blissful remainder of college life. First guy to meet my mom. She loved him too much! After 12th grade prelims, I was much too ambitious for him, and so er.. I sort of dumped him. Before state exams. He did NOT take it well. Ouch. I know I acted like a horrible person! I just was very bad with my timings and a bit of a foot in my mouth kind of person.... Anyway, reconnected with him a couple of years ago when I started working, apologised sincerely.<br />
<br />
He did not buy it. Still hates me... :P </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
~</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="color: red;">Part 2 - to be continued, with more instances of my insane tryst with the men. Including a story featuring strangers from Blogsville. :P </span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #f4cccc;">Annie. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #f4cccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #f4cccc;">P.S.: Dedicated to that close group of friends who has witnessed this all, and have started many a conversation with 'Remember when Annie did/said/was.....) :D</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #f4cccc;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #f4cccc;">P.P.S.: Popular opinion had dictated that I look for my Pilot guy, but really guys, I did everything a stalker can over that one night out with my gal pals. NOTHING turned up. Short of knowing someone actually in the air force..... there is no way. Also, lets not forget he is probably married with twelve kids by now. Relax. <i>Baith jaiye.</i></span></div>
</div>
IceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835959360693086550.post-26179986517937025182014-04-14T18:11:00.001+05:302014-04-14T18:11:49.297+05:30Kindness<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Such a rare value these days, somedays I feel. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I could not post on schedule last Saturday, because I was superbly hungover when I woke up and then spent the whole day trying to be, what I wanted to write about that day. Let me explain. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
On Friday morning, I received a call at 7 AM from a guy about 3 abandoned kittens, barely half a week old. I was barely awake, and honestly I have no place to put them, so I promised I will post for him & get back by afternoon. I did post for them at that ungodly hour, and surprise surprise, I received a lot of calls. When I get a call for infant kittens, the first thing I do is look for a nursing mother. Usually mother cats take on abandoned kittens, and nothing beats moms milk. If I don't then, we need to step in and become moms. It is a really really exhausting, hard and an amazingly wonderful place to be in. I nursed my last three babies and Mouse was one of them (quite obviously mom's favorite). :)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVl7WkwuzF9YZBMi4f1z6vOnYzQShE3P-gq-KAFRR_aHCwt0eIwb3SX-BkCwUgXM3dYOf22Rh1A1v_ZqjJFRDLBzeKq1aOFe1A3xJHK99ZM0aPBu7wTEYQ8nl0wdudQtR6d9fUovAI2aU/s1600/mouse1.jpg" height="320" width="239" />
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf8MD3Tr7Z4qJu1d46uN1nsy5bdrdOuvfXfyVztFV_nqTwVnLRiGtrv4Ox2mBmWbh1mIj2Agk8a2O4CKwCKCM-sdxFqpzRDKSaCxZOyhtE06Jkw-NP3x9a6pzMFYSt8BtSFVlb09iUNs8/s1600/mouse.jpg" height="320" width="239" /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anyway, so thankfully, beautiful people of Mumbai swung into action and by late afternoon I had 3 calls from people who had nursing mothers. I remembered one more person who had called me a week ago requesting help for something else, who had mentioned in passing that her cat was supposed to deliver. I decided to try my luck with her cat. On Saturday, we drove over with our little babies, and within the first ten minutes, mommy cat hugged and kissed and licked our new babies. PHEW!! :) Such a relief. We all sat there for a while just stroking Cleopatra (mommy) and cooing over how tiny & beautiful the babies were (who technically are deaf and blind and scrawny at this point... :P)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/worldforall/photos/a.132145973491329.12849.132128780159715/706133426092578/?type=1&relevant_count=1" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCxlX5AJF1Z6ltv-_zNJ7DZt-50DVKCu3Rg6E8b6xNP3tpv2cKaMBuHL8p8IoVY5Z2e2gFzJyGrSRo-CV7fYXixOoylrAZhjgHEuU7j2Txf4rj4iWTLYg2ubahNqyr3S3LSZ2z8CgEOrI/s1600/Cleo.png" width="550" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Kindness gives us so many happy endings, doesn't it? I love meeting people who are nice, polite, compassionate and go out of their way if someone in trouble really needs their help. I like kind people. I meet my fair share of jerks working the job I do, but it also puts me in touch with people who are so beautifully compassionate & kind, it fills my heart up. :) </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
Annie.<br />
P.S.: I work with <a href="http://www.facebook.com/worldforall" target="_blank">an animal welfare NGO</a>. I head corporate relations, strategy & kitten adoptions... just incase you are wondering. Animal help in Mumbai? Get in touch with me anita@worldforall.co :) <br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
----------------------------------------------------------------------</div>
Now Playing: Kahaan Hoon Main | Highway </div>
</div>
IceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835959360693086550.post-55268448146561502702014-04-11T20:11:00.001+05:302014-04-13T08:49:32.591+05:30Just BRB!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So, I totally forgot I had this post to write because this has been a nuts Friday - new kittens, old puppies, one female dog who is having the fucked up of all labor times, and 3 new born kittens who someone has separated from their mother - so far! :/<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I am hosting a fundraiser tonight (people in Mumbai, feel free to join the party at IBar, Bandra).. And I have no time to sit and write a new post. And the battery on my phone is running out. And I need to make some last minute phone calls to invite some more people... :P (choosing to update blog over calling more people to the fundraiser - I give you commitment!) Hahaha.. :) </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Annie.</div>
<div>
P.S.: If you do decide to come, give me a shout out - in the pretty slightly old thing in black ;) :P also, I'm the hostess so you can well... just ask for me. :P</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
-----------------------------<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">-------------------</span></div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Now Playing: Bittersweet Symphony | The Verve</span></div>
</div>
IceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835959360693086550.post-16505025628055126462014-04-10T23:58:00.001+05:302014-04-11T00:07:26.626+05:30Idiosyncrasies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It has been fifteen years since I first saw you, and some of the memories are a little rusty around the edges. For instance, I no longer remember if it was a Wednesday or a Thursday, that day when we sat on the table in the crowded college canteen, talking way into oblivion at friends watching us with poorly masked amazement at how we seemed to have hit off with each other. Some other details seem to have disappeared entirely, like the maze like structure of the ancient institution where our summertime romance had blossomed, spilling over into the rain and the frost. I don't remember anymore if it was on the second or the third floor, where we had discovered a small nook of a corner, and stolen that quick kiss in the weeks after we had started dating. Some of the last few months of us together in the final days of college, seem to have blanked out entirely. Maybe its the age, I am getting old. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And then somedays - maybe on late nights like today, filled with the stillness of a warm summer air, something comes back to me. In bits & pieces, but so brilliant in its self-preservation, that it stuns me that so many years have passed since then. Small details that seemed so insignificant back then. Small things you did. Small things <i>about </i>you. Little idiosyncrasies that you were made up of, you who made me fall so completely and shamelessly.. so helplessly in love with you. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Remember how you skipped over every third stone in the pavement laid with those pale yellow & red, oddly shaped bricks, on the way to the train station, the first day I walked you there? I do. It was your little <i>thing</i>. Like writing letters. You confessed once you liked how smooth gel pens glided over paper, every time you sat to write me a new letter. And that thing with your coffee - six times anti-clockwise and then once clockwise. I never asked you what that even meant, I realise. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I used to tease that no one ever told you how to use bookmarks. You never kept them in your books for their purpose, often much before or after the page you were reading. And I snuck a glance at you once or twice to catch you lovingly smoothening out the dog ears out of the old pages of books you really really liked... And the obsessive habit of collecting one too many books to read. The way you picked them out of old piles from pavement book stores, as if they were precious treasures, hidden away just for you to find. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My chair creaks as I get up, shaking old memories out of my head. Heading towards the bedroom, I hear you call out from near the window, "I think I am going to make myself some coffee. Do you want some?" I look over and notice the book you just kept aside, bookmark stuck firmly in the middle. I smile. "Yes."<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Annie. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
P.S.: It is amazing loving someone made of idiosyncrasies, try it sometime. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
---------------------------------------------------------------------</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Now Playing: Falling Slowly | Kris Allen </div>
</div>
IceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835959360693086550.post-25578466924749320872014-04-09T12:30:00.000+05:302014-04-09T12:30:16.240+05:30Happiness is..<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: left;">A little face looking up at you with trust in its big beautiful eyes, and purring away in contentment. Knowing that you are responsible for this little baby in your hands. :)</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJETTbZxp4b09irMIoD10EFOVd5g9miC5tCTEEZgr_2wPl6FIQelmvYpfBBNFMs9jz-GNHbViIFo50qn0eGcTzDa5WQvQKNHcdLW4qO3gsWG_suJ3kr5m9b8LCiUlR4BiKL983cinNKFc/s1600/DSC_0272.jpg" width="550" /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Happiness is a wet nose kiss, and enthusiastic licking.. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
& the innocence that comes only with the excited tail wagging. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkMCXlvC29kIetBMlnD-du0PlHEkIgaD1hvQiq_TDevOlM2n0_ajf6nQxOm5utCPTazecmh4QQOFbwNgKh6O4VNHgnoJ-rylm_sd6vx6EgWOQJW_9stup-WlwixxsOgBs1TMPUV6cfNc4/s1600/DSC_0370.jpg" width="550" /></div>
<br />
Annie.<br />
P.S.: Work = Happiness = Yay! :)<br />
<br />
P.P.S.: Calvin & Hobbes strike a pretty pose for me, while Miley seems more interested in licking noses. Hehehehe. :P<br />
<br />
<div>
-------------------------------------------------------------------</div>
<div>
Now Playing: Boogie Shoes | KC & The Sunshine Band </div>
<!--3--></div>
IceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835959360693086550.post-10663098889395674762014-04-08T11:30:00.000+05:302014-04-08T11:30:02.015+05:30Grey's Anatomy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Really did you expect this to NOT come up on my posts? :D </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Okay let me just put it out there - <b><span style="color: lime;">I love Grey's Anatomy</span></b>. I watched this show for the first time only a year and a half ago, and I watched it at a stretch season 1-8. I did not like where it was heading post that, and so I consciously went out and got a life and stopped watching it like an obsessed, deranged person. I am not kidding, I have literally (I mean it), locked myself in the bedroom, instructed the man and the cats to STAY AWAY, and have watched the episodes at a stretch, so much so that 1. I bunked work. 2. I had a severe severe headache. Yes. Crazy person alert. So if you have never watched this show, please skip this post because it will make no sense to you. :P </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Favorite Character? </b>Every character on this show is fucking perfect. Well except the new ones. But nevertheless, everyone. Perfect. But my favorite? Easy. Meredith. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVyvC7dsjtcpAEBFad7tlZbP5s9L8wbEFhUtx7gmsfuwKukGvJNMu_2EUb7MnN8pg5Pe9jsSeIk6RwF1ziC3LV4gKYf2lKYK6-lkHYDJ3Q5zBd501fTRAY1WhjKDGsUF_TRz0hBoBMBJA/s1600/tumblr_mxyqbmZJ391qzmiw4o1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVyvC7dsjtcpAEBFad7tlZbP5s9L8wbEFhUtx7gmsfuwKukGvJNMu_2EUb7MnN8pg5Pe9jsSeIk6RwF1ziC3LV4gKYf2lKYK6-lkHYDJ3Q5zBd501fTRAY1WhjKDGsUF_TRz0hBoBMBJA/s1600/tumblr_mxyqbmZJ391qzmiw4o1_500.gif" width="550" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I know.. I know. A LOT of people do not like her at all. But I am talking about Meredith, NOT Ellen. Meredith has easily been the most complex, brilliant character on the show from the beginning until around late season 7ish. I identify with her in a way I have never with any fictional character played or written. All her issues? Check, check & check. Make way for the dark & twisty. And Nutties is, as I've said before, literally the Derek to my Meredith. Which is also what makes us so perfect lol. :)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Favorite Scenes? </b>This is obviously where I list a collection of my favorite scenes. Because obviously there cannot be just one. And to save us all the 'YES ME TOO!' I am going to skip over the usual favorites (marriages, confessions of love, proposals, etc.) and dig up some lesser known, lesser appreciated scenes.<br />
<br />
The very first meeting. :)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixqigi3razFByaSsq7hqWpd36UjDJSopBE_IVSWHRTffDfnuF58z07X8x6N0lRGHc-zvFlb9yun94W9iB9_1R6xZBDEYeq0L6QJ6Mv4Fa1XRstgQCwR8EOQhymAMZq0ATm-Qoh-R9Tv1c/s1600/28.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixqigi3razFByaSsq7hqWpd36UjDJSopBE_IVSWHRTffDfnuF58z07X8x6N0lRGHc-zvFlb9yun94W9iB9_1R6xZBDEYeq0L6QJ6Mv4Fa1XRstgQCwR8EOQhymAMZq0ATm-Qoh-R9Tv1c/s1600/28.gif" width="550" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Ui5tZ0yIeSKgpOUh4g75KqG2QXUnxf6eqwJ-cxifxLTz94iAARmNlnbrLEEEvQkozPdZ4j93C2db0h_lecDeMDtRZ8pROy6yS2bF6acfm9wcQZiSQwvwi_lKF21jbVoIoYBH8FaGkDs/s1600/44.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Ui5tZ0yIeSKgpOUh4g75KqG2QXUnxf6eqwJ-cxifxLTz94iAARmNlnbrLEEEvQkozPdZ4j93C2db0h_lecDeMDtRZ8pROy6yS2bF6acfm9wcQZiSQwvwi_lKF21jbVoIoYBH8FaGkDs/s1600/44.gif" width="550" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
The one with George's cute butt. LOL!<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd_Pw8ld3w0Hr0wNi7lV39QBrfFwXOX3x7US0uQhl0fx5CLomWwHU3XiCndVlzbMk1s_xwbdkmKSwoA5LDD5YltGaslYaTN4KYXnLIjWuk-r-3EuEYtjnll1ZC0D_b7iTvMlaDw9wBXuc/s1600/21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd_Pw8ld3w0Hr0wNi7lV39QBrfFwXOX3x7US0uQhl0fx5CLomWwHU3XiCndVlzbMk1s_xwbdkmKSwoA5LDD5YltGaslYaTN4KYXnLIjWuk-r-3EuEYtjnll1ZC0D_b7iTvMlaDw9wBXuc/s1600/21.jpg" width="550" /></a></div>
<br />
When Owen meets Christina for the first time.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzw_69EGFs4wVo_DXrDoo-r1TYVWPHHwSFfGV0LQm46kNmu4bKId8A5b4lN1dK4b-qYEKlIaLLdSVc9OB0HcflbV0JzcAe-ueUKfvAbB0QaGsaJVI2jbS9LvgUAfUL6W7dBs1mAiv_vJ0/s1600/14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzw_69EGFs4wVo_DXrDoo-r1TYVWPHHwSFfGV0LQm46kNmu4bKId8A5b4lN1dK4b-qYEKlIaLLdSVc9OB0HcflbV0JzcAe-ueUKfvAbB0QaGsaJVI2jbS9LvgUAfUL6W7dBs1mAiv_vJ0/s1600/14.jpg" width="550" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This. To the soundtrack of Homebird, Foy Vance. I can't remember our last kiss. <i>Needless to say, I bawled. A lot. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg1fTQghm5grs3czVu28xJWlg8f3EIigAtTAy4XcplUWD0xgO8qhuPkqO6JS-w-Or60U5SulMwmfSvlxm4XyebY0up2pUJdpp7Hy6LDvbP1ZUdAx0Gsxrn5b9Bp8hsXUo-JJ_bFod09vk/s1600/37.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg1fTQghm5grs3czVu28xJWlg8f3EIigAtTAy4XcplUWD0xgO8qhuPkqO6JS-w-Or60U5SulMwmfSvlxm4XyebY0up2pUJdpp7Hy6LDvbP1ZUdAx0Gsxrn5b9Bp8hsXUo-JJ_bFod09vk/s1600/37.png" height="640" width="570" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Arizona talking to Callie's dad. Yes yes, I know what happens in the latest season, but damn this scene was perfect, when it happened. No disrespect, no attitude, just hey I love your daughter.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLKa5g7NiqNnQovy6r4cH264UfgMiwjO974r2BT-V-2a7-aKSoWZK90ltRHqJpbj4AVbUGoor4hC5J3lj8lvGBceUaAmBZQTOA6VKhka9yRpiWhSUj79N4jX7QdoHuPaZb7OeLb6mu4J8/s1600/33.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLKa5g7NiqNnQovy6r4cH264UfgMiwjO974r2BT-V-2a7-aKSoWZK90ltRHqJpbj4AVbUGoor4hC5J3lj8lvGBceUaAmBZQTOA6VKhka9yRpiWhSUj79N4jX7QdoHuPaZb7OeLb6mu4J8/s1600/33.gif" width="550" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Meredith high before her surgery. "All my boyfriends are here!" :P <i>Also, damn, Finn was perfect!</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_J3QQl_OxJAdPgvhv3wIxASJFEYYHLf_ML7rdJjwoW8r68YbTT7mkQQq7Lf6pLTnPBu-B62tDqecTApfGxDS9AAxOLWk-2hefMIud6bZ3LgErrfoQFF1Oo_oGjeAMU2NQKiF53gntAqw/s1600/24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_J3QQl_OxJAdPgvhv3wIxASJFEYYHLf_ML7rdJjwoW8r68YbTT7mkQQq7Lf6pLTnPBu-B62tDqecTApfGxDS9AAxOLWk-2hefMIud6bZ3LgErrfoQFF1Oo_oGjeAMU2NQKiF53gntAqw/s1600/24.jpg" width="550" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I hated Meredith's obvious rebounds with people she should have stayed far away from. And I hated how Derek is being all chill with her because he is being "friends". Like wtf is that? Stop that! And then this happens. Ouch. OUCH.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC3xwT9qMWOBMLzt6j3nZbeMfSVXtStb6opuI0tIRfRik5D-iCpw3HsOoSeOicuankLCzamX-MIRvELbUY3hG6u542uixDNICzOuMo-DcyUig9G2lwB8odNzn0QnUIHgcj1oiPhQeT818/s1600/34.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC3xwT9qMWOBMLzt6j3nZbeMfSVXtStb6opuI0tIRfRik5D-iCpw3HsOoSeOicuankLCzamX-MIRvELbUY3hG6u542uixDNICzOuMo-DcyUig9G2lwB8odNzn0QnUIHgcj1oiPhQeT818/s1600/34.jpg" width="550" /></a></div>
<br />
Meredith holding Cristina after Burke left. <i>Completely being her person.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV6P5QXakkFRLYn7HjWvNckeOZbpfEL7FuDqhn_I_LJC4gMrJw5es0B_L9zleWu2GevW9i-yyg_l26BvBjubQfG9udmq1jRo0QpIMz5u4-J-TnUNsmLOqArFe0twanCSoch5HdoadQswA/s1600/35.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV6P5QXakkFRLYn7HjWvNckeOZbpfEL7FuDqhn_I_LJC4gMrJw5es0B_L9zleWu2GevW9i-yyg_l26BvBjubQfG9udmq1jRo0QpIMz5u4-J-TnUNsmLOqArFe0twanCSoch5HdoadQswA/s1600/35.gif" width="550" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: justify;">The chief apologising to Meredith. This one really broke my heart. :(</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMjSnF9iavkjYfVdrV5pZK_u2sHr9C8OtpUShzqdIit6k29HUG0g8sG8uCr5lSjiGslbU2vWhzaqDAZbnJIrp5Wx05X8wPxpbaZk7OJWU2onQuOLG0qNEh1SkX76aU0zzwPelYOGLrUa8/s1600/tumblr_mj9adxu73b1rgqmfto1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMjSnF9iavkjYfVdrV5pZK_u2sHr9C8OtpUShzqdIit6k29HUG0g8sG8uCr5lSjiGslbU2vWhzaqDAZbnJIrp5Wx05X8wPxpbaZk7OJWU2onQuOLG0qNEh1SkX76aU0zzwPelYOGLrUa8/s1600/tumblr_mj9adxu73b1rgqmfto1_500.gif" width="550" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Mark Sloan meeting Meredith for the first time. And getting beaten up. <i>Totally filmy.</i> <br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizekEhyDUun4nFE1SJla6aLKoILNuAOwHQM15J655NoXlJjcrfGyvW-e3BJujVOlVuKS8jUfIL8RXdogXSjgNxOvbgemmXS5z_93-p2GlICEIwUcHzcb_hJyfK74sgEove10XcA_QjY3g/s1600/30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizekEhyDUun4nFE1SJla6aLKoILNuAOwHQM15J655NoXlJjcrfGyvW-e3BJujVOlVuKS8jUfIL8RXdogXSjgNxOvbgemmXS5z_93-p2GlICEIwUcHzcb_hJyfK74sgEove10XcA_QjY3g/s1600/30.jpg" width="550" /></a></div>
<br />
Derek telling Addison that Meredith wasn't a fling. <i>Cue few random sobs.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyiNVoSM56D4L4RFo_4edQ2PnoSTKGpEqivKa7RRwSI075hfsxESiY6Laqh3q7bPoW9FslgDqLsxkL0rLFBvB7iaLsGagCta4KQv9q2kNEuwuj7yx_j072rZAbMuMg0yeUCPbw9eSSK9A/s1600/32.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyiNVoSM56D4L4RFo_4edQ2PnoSTKGpEqivKa7RRwSI075hfsxESiY6Laqh3q7bPoW9FslgDqLsxkL0rLFBvB7iaLsGagCta4KQv9q2kNEuwuj7yx_j072rZAbMuMg0yeUCPbw9eSSK9A/s1600/32.gif" width="550" /></a></div>
<br />
When this happened - <b>And that sometimes, despite all your best choices and all your best intensions, fate wins anyway. "I miss you." ... "I can't." </b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIejed2xqNgHjYRLdldJYx7VcaPidCPbn3k0TZI8snltqlwBEhoE8beF258BFbwCjonThDv05K_Ny0lxj2aL1vd_dizlgNf4nd1x7pkU10SoKzcFHlkVThyFCxNQjTaZn-dCz2MR1mGHQ/s1600/25.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIejed2xqNgHjYRLdldJYx7VcaPidCPbn3k0TZI8snltqlwBEhoE8beF258BFbwCjonThDv05K_Ny0lxj2aL1vd_dizlgNf4nd1x7pkU10SoKzcFHlkVThyFCxNQjTaZn-dCz2MR1mGHQ/s1600/25.png" width="550" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Meredith's confrontation with her mother.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA-P62iiMeAkRJhkH37GEPNvxl7C1BjdrOq2EqvAwjsevV4XCwQvjZzqtCMPVZJgfYjv9DnMJizGza1FPmtKofcb-1arYP5EI0kC9wco21CRXqJDCOvB8g4I5NI4rrax_sD7AUcWFTEnU/s1600/2.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA-P62iiMeAkRJhkH37GEPNvxl7C1BjdrOq2EqvAwjsevV4XCwQvjZzqtCMPVZJgfYjv9DnMJizGza1FPmtKofcb-1arYP5EI0kC9wco21CRXqJDCOvB8g4I5NI4rrax_sD7AUcWFTEnU/s1600/2.gif" width="550" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
Callie, just after she & George divorce. All the emotion coming out in one patients case. So brutally honest, I will be lying if I said I have not felt the same way at some point in the past.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIlf408gKUTAsCvD063dWqy2zeZdh6U-VFKiMJtNRtmAee33Pg3M59BBp1be-QYJvT8HeNGMbfxKXY9sKT8ENJ39MyzKa2BmTjQcqvknFrTzj0Jx0f7Y-HAPdI98pTxP_LZwj05nzwhlI/s1600/6.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIlf408gKUTAsCvD063dWqy2zeZdh6U-VFKiMJtNRtmAee33Pg3M59BBp1be-QYJvT8HeNGMbfxKXY9sKT8ENJ39MyzKa2BmTjQcqvknFrTzj0Jx0f7Y-HAPdI98pTxP_LZwj05nzwhlI/s1600/6.gif" width="550" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
Izzie, opening up to Sidney. That is exactly what happens when you lose someone, and there is no getting back. This is how much it sucks. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_AHA6bMCba27nt0EJIe_1ZF5BpMrM9tw_30a_kSNGgFtmyodOboH0jhw6QzNOgfXA6Hw6MqjxMcrXcyHU0zj8Dmx3_0z1lYxPSaT3K6WboqaEne-pT2jUtuxDfSfruojl4h7MDL62zzE/s1600/792f5b92c848c94efc61aacb20e474c8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_AHA6bMCba27nt0EJIe_1ZF5BpMrM9tw_30a_kSNGgFtmyodOboH0jhw6QzNOgfXA6Hw6MqjxMcrXcyHU0zj8Dmx3_0z1lYxPSaT3K6WboqaEne-pT2jUtuxDfSfruojl4h7MDL62zzE/s1600/792f5b92c848c94efc61aacb20e474c8.jpg" width="550" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Too many bawls happened when</b> Denny died. :'(</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUMSiw-_ehlLP_Zvm4jDTAPIPqFWqklBsfIHD1x6LoNspuNdH5lAeCIon_70IZQhx_J98zHeG9MC0L6gahbOtNbxYL5LAeqNPRn2BGu2R8wYUDOS0pNCx1QoBUheDsG-unJOolKyPwH5o/s1600/4.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUMSiw-_ehlLP_Zvm4jDTAPIPqFWqklBsfIHD1x6LoNspuNdH5lAeCIon_70IZQhx_J98zHeG9MC0L6gahbOtNbxYL5LAeqNPRn2BGu2R8wYUDOS0pNCx1QoBUheDsG-unJOolKyPwH5o/s1600/4.png" width="550" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
That entire sequence. After it happened, noone could move Izzie from him, but Alex just comes and picks her up. Grace, Kate Havenik remains one of my all time fav songs from this show, just for how perfectly upsetting this scene is.<br />
<br />
One of the very first scenes of the show I related with on a level that made my heart explode out of sheer pain.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
"Oh you are staying with her." ... "Yeah. She's my wife."</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0bMixCaJycz27vPfGDgcyuHIiav6HSG_5aAI3mkRh_ue05miXQ-Li82voIrmbgJxtuBul8BJwLRrm3cwNJLC0AldQc8HRfek6VdPdkde35EVsWuR3qK9g8Jm-KKnpytsYjK8y13Bw7WQ/s1600/48.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0bMixCaJycz27vPfGDgcyuHIiav6HSG_5aAI3mkRh_ue05miXQ-Li82voIrmbgJxtuBul8BJwLRrm3cwNJLC0AldQc8HRfek6VdPdkde35EVsWuR3qK9g8Jm-KKnpytsYjK8y13Bw7WQ/s1600/48.jpeg" width="550" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A second later, "Dr. Shepard, she's crashing." And crash she did.... </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrcIb7M7rrbIrP8QN-8IqoI4bdzESeYClBsuDLaE_3bzuWdIi9JpT5X9zJfCe4-04a8iM7njZthyphenhypheneVmBL5jMuoWuNyxZffWt2DrVCHTCS7GT-lIrGOLmwNl1jWNZo5xtVELCmQDW6xtLQ/s1600/45.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrcIb7M7rrbIrP8QN-8IqoI4bdzESeYClBsuDLaE_3bzuWdIi9JpT5X9zJfCe4-04a8iM7njZthyphenhypheneVmBL5jMuoWuNyxZffWt2DrVCHTCS7GT-lIrGOLmwNl1jWNZo5xtVELCmQDW6xtLQ/s1600/45.gif" width="550" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This was the most painful to watch. To the soundtrack of another of my all time favs. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i><b>Today has been okay.</b></i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf-VfrEUvMz_FXTCCm1ueMM4D_SuDPzdYW1SOW_sj0lmJOnD09ta2eRd3ybGMiN1qjceeeTkOYx33MmlSmb23HVrYffa4iLh6kDxarTAD8nQ2znQ6B2y8fzcFoqhOAH3RhJotyKsewByg/s1600/47.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf-VfrEUvMz_FXTCCm1ueMM4D_SuDPzdYW1SOW_sj0lmJOnD09ta2eRd3ybGMiN1qjceeeTkOYx33MmlSmb23HVrYffa4iLh6kDxarTAD8nQ2znQ6B2y8fzcFoqhOAH3RhJotyKsewByg/s1600/47.gif" width="550" /></a></div>
<br />
Knowing you love someone so much it hurts, and then knowing you cannot be with them, because the universe is fucked up and hates you. Being star crossed lovers sucks.<br />
<br />
Owen telling Cristina that he will always love her.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJVUGqrs-4w6wZUUqk63VAOYS9C9oPkRNcZOX9vwAf2qJ2Es_TFGUtcFFier2g1vCSXJX65NXa18zmS_E3bYaw-kyms5OXZRDMVCRyGsN8XMkGF3uhKURoxRuHE9rTW-M9wSnlA77gSRA/s1600/13.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJVUGqrs-4w6wZUUqk63VAOYS9C9oPkRNcZOX9vwAf2qJ2Es_TFGUtcFFier2g1vCSXJX65NXa18zmS_E3bYaw-kyms5OXZRDMVCRyGsN8XMkGF3uhKURoxRuHE9rTW-M9wSnlA77gSRA/s1600/13.gif" width="550" /></a></div>
<div>
<br />
I know this came at a really, really bad time. But there was no question about the honesty in his words. It took me a while in my life, personally, to know that people can make irreversible mistakes, and still be deeply in love with the person they wronged. Yes, it happens. You fuck up, and you live with it.<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: justify;">Mark's face when Lexie nears the end of her 'I'm infected with Mark Sloan.' speech. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEP4J6p4Yl_0nfZwYCX7PlrbwR_bpkSolmWghEqxKyz1XhzV7v9q9cDNZM2k-9kxn3fmGlWPo_A6E-4F5hGgbOZQjY7KYAAG4ZbqBfpylpHPY5xEwRuvSI2pgqHvgDby5vfvlWYNG84OM/s1600/43.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEP4J6p4Yl_0nfZwYCX7PlrbwR_bpkSolmWghEqxKyz1XhzV7v9q9cDNZM2k-9kxn3fmGlWPo_A6E-4F5hGgbOZQjY7KYAAG4ZbqBfpylpHPY5xEwRuvSI2pgqHvgDby5vfvlWYNG84OM/s1600/43.gif" width="550" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXzKNwO6uPpD0T7g-mIgCV8Tcl515T_U3X3NO_Pfog93Yw7eWdresxFS9Zipv3GBgHWLBBzduG0meGIe7bnCX-4zskao793mG8s1JVlsi0BQ7ftK4XH60X1_bvh5Uqq9MVHXwYpYpkh3c/s1600/19.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXzKNwO6uPpD0T7g-mIgCV8Tcl515T_U3X3NO_Pfog93Yw7eWdresxFS9Zipv3GBgHWLBBzduG0meGIe7bnCX-4zskao793mG8s1JVlsi0BQ7ftK4XH60X1_bvh5Uqq9MVHXwYpYpkh3c/s1600/19.gif" width="550" /></a></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When it hits him, what she is saying, and how much she means to him too. I swear I thought, this would be a happily ever after, because obviously they both felt the same way..... This is one mistake, I will NEVER forgive Grey's for. :/ Which brings me to...</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioDRrPbJXARf1LUpAO4X2MHA5ykGN3WnXlUVdQTBXwpnvqhfisSEe85t_KyskVP1AWNYaBgBac82Wa8lnS7UdiemPmUaGm4d5B8cu2M37PtX67aMMj9I9TQBG_vnLi2Pw_NJyrFEBQn-I/s1600/20.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioDRrPbJXARf1LUpAO4X2MHA5ykGN3WnXlUVdQTBXwpnvqhfisSEe85t_KyskVP1AWNYaBgBac82Wa8lnS7UdiemPmUaGm4d5B8cu2M37PtX67aMMj9I9TQBG_vnLi2Pw_NJyrFEBQn-I/s1600/20.gif" width="550" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Mark & Lexie's last moments together. I don't even want to talk about it, because yes, I actually stopped watching after that happened. I have no clue what has happened in the latest season, and I only watched season 9 midway.... fuck you Shonda. :/</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
Okay this will never end. So I am stopping now.<br />
<br />
Annie.<br />
P.S.: Time for a Grey's marathon all over again methinks.<br />
------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
Now Playing: Let Myself Fall | Rosie Thomas</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
</div>
IceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835959360693086550.post-74852949139671943212014-04-07T11:30:00.000+05:302014-04-07T12:06:12.429+05:30Falling<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The day I met you for the very first time, I looked upon your face, and saw not a person - but a universe of all that is fascinating and shiny and beautiful, a wide expanse of perfection, where flaws are not expected or even acknowledged. I saw beautiful words and syllables, so exquisite, how could one not weave them into stories and poems? So many endless permutations & combinations, of so many different stories, and many amazing adventures, each one of which you are the hero of. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So I wrote. I wrote about you. And while I weaved your stories together and put them on paper with ink & a bit of me - I fell. I fell for you.<br />
<br />
~</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
No one ever told me I was falling not in love, but falling in disappointment. That somewhere at the back of my mind, I always knew you would leave. Just did not know when, at what point in time, I'd have to sit up and acknowledge flaws. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Now, there is a wreckage between my ribs, left there by you. A wound, that throbs dully, that I carry around everywhere I go, with every single step I take. An ache that stops pounding on the door of my existence, only once the pills I weigh every night without fail in my fragile palms, kick in. And for the first few seconds after I open my eyes every morning, somewhere between a deep, dreamless sleep & being wide awake, in those moments of hazy disorientation.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Falling was a stupid idea. Why did it seem so brilliant at the time?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Annie. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
P.S.: I have no idea why this post happened. Sometimes, I literally just phase out. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
--------------------------------------------------------------</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Now Playing: Stairway To Heaven | Led Zeppelin</div>
</div>
IceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835959360693086550.post-5861709846956371072014-04-05T20:28:00.003+05:302014-04-05T20:36:17.337+05:30Euphoria<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As in the Indie music band. I cannot even begin to explain how MANY memories are associated with each of their songs. Well, until the idiot lead decided to get himself embroiled in a sexist controversy, which even though was obviously a publicity stunt, left me with a bad taste in my mouth. Ugh. Anyway, leaving that aside... music from the 90's anyone?! :) </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Also, err.. disclaimer before I am judged - Dating was cool growing up. I dated quite a few boys before I ended up in my first serious relationship, which happened much later in degree college. Of course, "dating" meant being silly, going on well.. dates to eating places & talking mushy sappy stuff, bringing flowers and the likes... which I believe is not quite what happens today. Also, let it be known, there were zero bases anyone could conquer. :P </div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/0BDcqnx2gfg?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I think my first Euphoria song was <b>Dhoom Pichak Dhoom</b>. Way back in school, but the memories came later. Band practice, singing in class, rides back home in the train at rush hour. :) </div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="https://ytimg.googleusercontent.com/vi/DH2sQ_je5v8/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/DH2sQ_je5v8&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/DH2sQ_je5v8&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Kabhi Aana Tu Meri Gully</b>, was introduction to Vidya Balan (yes thats her!). I loved this song way too much! Its so much fun right? Also, one really handsome singer dude in college sang this at a fest and he ...nailed it! Full marks on presentation, if you know what I mean. ;) Memories of following the band discreetly(?) with girlfriends, through college grounds hoping to know the guys name and relationship status happened. Yes, creepy stalkerish tendencies were displayed early on in life. But it was fun. :P </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/x9avZ9Dpgbc?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Kaise Bhoolegi Mera Naam</b>, was a song this guy in class used to sidle up close to the girls and sing in a <i>rastachaap</i> kind of way. The guy in question is a dead ringer for John Abraham, and a really nice guy, but for his blatant flirting in deeply sexy voice he used to put on for the women. At one point he came up and started singing the song in aforementioned sexy voice, holding my hand, while boyfriend stood right next to me. Hehehe :P So yes, this is that guy song. :) </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="https://ytimg.googleusercontent.com/vi/8sJ_9pHTh5A/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/8sJ_9pHTh5A&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="https://youtube.googleapis.com/v/8sJ_9pHTh5A&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
One of the newer tracks, <b>Mehfuz</b>. The year was 2006, and it was Euphoria comeback time. Also time for first out of city trip with then boyfriend. To wild Goa. Hic. :)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And finally, the two tracks that have always been very very close to my heart - <b>Maeri & Tum</b>.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/ERwrlgN6S38?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Maeri</b>, and some pretty intense real life incidents, inspired the first fiction <a href="http://whitelilyz.blogspot.in/2009/01/euphoria.html" target="_blank">post</a> on the blog. :)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This was 2000, and the album was <i>Phir Dhoom.</i> The first time I heard this song, it was on the radio. Then first year engineering, I discovered practically the entire class loved this song. That year, 2005, we used to sit outside the class to write our assignments, and someone or the other always played this song. :) This song became my most played song when boyfriend was away & I missed him. It was not "our" song, but it was close. For those who don't know yet, my college building was extremely old and it was flanked by cobbled streets & huge trees. This song became the soundtrack to walking around holding hands, catching tea & snacks at quiet cosy places, walking to the railway station to catch a train back home. Sigh. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/Pg4cP4P1CdA?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The year was 1998, Euphoria had just come out with their debut album, <i>Dhoom</i>. Tum was one of the only tracks from that album that remains famous to this day. Wow it stuns me now that this track is 16 years old... </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anyway, a few years after this song came out, an older boy I really really liked but was super shy to talk to, dedicated this song to me. Yes, we had song dedications and stuff to declare your love to significant other hahaha.. :P So yes, he not only dedicated it, he also <i>sang</i><b> </b>it to me. In front of a small crowd of friends and such. It was very cool, floored me completely (note the sappy sappy lyrics of this song. go on look em' up :P ) I am also kind of embarrassed that this was in school. Ahem. My reaction to said song dedication? I giggled. A lot. :P (this was when it became known that I was not really the read-poems-to-impress kind, I was the sing/dance/crack jokes-to-impress kind :P)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Annie. </div>
<div>
P.S.: Euphoria has also inspired <a href="http://whitelilyz.blogspot.in/2011/11/forgotton-songs-of-indipop.html" target="_blank">this post</a> about more such songs. :) </div>
<div>
______________________________________________________________</div>
<div>
Now Playing: Kabhi Aana Tu Meri Gully | Euphoria </div>
</div>
</div>
IceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835959360693086550.post-84542311397446492642014-04-04T23:21:00.000+05:302014-04-04T23:28:01.292+05:30Death<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
For someone who has written as many morbid & depressing things as I have, who has had dying as one of the constant themes of anything and everything I have ever found beautiful - I have seen death at close proximity only once. And that happened 5 months ago.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Nutties had a big meeting, at a swanky hotel, so he was up really early. It was a Saturday, and I had a meeting later in the day over brunch at Candies, so I woke up refreshed & smiling just as Nutties was leaving. That is when I saw that my close friend and work colleague had called me at an odd 7.30 AM. Now if you do the work I do, you just know that calls at odd times, mean the same thing. It's an emergency. Somewhere, some animal needs your help. Someone being run over, someone is sick, new litters have been found, someone needs advise.. the likes. I am the de facto kitten expert, so I absently dialled back. He picked up on the second ring and said exactly this, 'You have to come over to R's right now, her sister jumped.. fell off.. I don't know.. their balcony. Messaging you the address right now.'</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It took a millisecond to be wide awake, and also at the same time, plunge into a pool of complete disorientation. What? Why? Huh? What? WHAT? Somehow, I managed to leave home in a stumble. I did not know what to expect. I did not even know what to say, who to call on my way there. I just sat there and smoked in silence with the auto guy, who was also apparently having a bad day. The day passed by in a blur. What do you say? What do you do? How do you make it better? I was angry that no matter how much we all try to fix the world, no matter how many animals we save.. where the fuck does does all that good karma go? What happened to all those lives we saved huh? This one beautiful soul could not be saved? </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Watching someone die, makes you realise just how fragile we all are. Bodies made of sticks & bones & blood. And rubbed down with emotions, all of them packed into one small, disgustingly fragile body. And then we go and make relationships happen. Many we are simply <i>born </i>into. And we are, if you think about it, the same heart beating in two, three, four different bodies. We share. And then one breaks away, drifts away and it shatters. A void opens up that will never be filled. Human beings & their relationships. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
I wonder why some say death can be peaceful. From whatever I have seen of it, it has been horrible. People around me, live forever okay? :( </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Annie.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
P.S.: This got way too morose I know, I swear I will try and be more cheerful next :)<br />
<br />
P.P.S.: Grief counselling really works. If someone you know if going through something as major as this, please understand that sometimes a counsellor will explain things to them like you can't. So yes, its a good idea to book that appointment. <br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
_______________________________________________</div>
Now Playing: Paperweight | Joshua Radin</div>
</div>
IceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835959360693086550.post-3758202067221947692014-04-03T23:47:00.000+05:302014-04-03T23:47:40.116+05:30Change<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I find many people struggling with this concept. I mean, lets be real. How many of us, at various points in time had wished we could go back in time & stay in times that were easy, less stressful. Whatever it takes to avoid the present right? I know I have done it a fair share of times too. Things change, people change, situations change - this can be pretty tough to come to terms with I think.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Remember when someone high on some pretty sweet stuff said <i>change is the only constant</i>. Well, yes. They were right. I'll be honest, I did not believe too much, because I always thought there were some things that did not change. Now, at this point in life, I think I can safely say I was wrong. Change is, indeed the only constant. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Sometimes its so sudden, you never truly come to terms with it. Like losing what you called home for 18 years over just 2 months. So sudden, so swift. Years later when you look back, its like that segment of life has been blanked out. Abruptly, the chapter seems to have turned. And some other times, the change happens so slow, and so gradual, that you do not even realise something has changed until the damage is already done, the cross road is already in front of you, waiting for you to make a decision. Like heart break, that first time around. Who knew people could change right? Until then, who knew it could hurt so bad?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I remember declaring a decade ago that I would <i>never </i>do or say certain things. That I would <i>never </i>date certain kind of guys. I remember promising some people that I will <i>always </i>remain friends. I did not think then that <b>I </b>would change! Its been one of my recent revelations, that over the last few years I have changed! I am not as friendly and happy-go-lucky as I know most of my old friends remember me as. I do not blurt things out much these days (subject to alcohol & pot in the system obviously) . I keep my feelings in check when I am out with people I barely know. I was NONE of these things before. I guess change sometimes, IS for the good. Atleast it feels like it now. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This has been completely random, there are so many many things I could talk about regarding change, but I imagine they would bore people out, because lots of these would make sense to only me. Or maybe you, if you grew up with me during school. Maybe I will pick up another alphabet to talk about those things, some other day. :) </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Annie. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
P.S.: When people accusingly say, <i>you changed! </i>(a favorite line for those who do not have much to say), I always end up feeling, <i>Yea I know, its great isn't it?!</i> :)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
----------------------------------------------------</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Now Playing: Sea Green, See Blue | JayMay </div>
</div>
IceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835959360693086550.post-82413497881167061022014-04-02T17:16:00.003+05:302014-04-02T17:16:31.763+05:30Books<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Pretty much my life growing up in the 90s, summed in a title. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I did not have the luxury of playing with other kids - because there were far too few, and none of them passed my mother's good-for-you test - and so invariably I stayed in many days. Add to that, that I do not have a "native place" (born, brought up and based only in Mumbai), summer vacations were a drag really. My family, encouraged reading & writing right from the very beginning. I was gifted books & stationery when other kids were getting toys & board games. I know it sounds kinda lame, but since this was the ONLY way of life I was familiar with then, so for me, it was AWESOME! I think I get my nerd tendencies from time back then too, because many of these books were big fat encyclopaedias, far superior for my age, because I already exhausted the ones meant for my age. :) </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Then in 7th grade, a kind girl from my class realised that I was not doing very well socially due to not having any friends around. My 6th grade class got reshuffled for the first time since KG, so I "lost" all my old friends. I was heartbroken, and incredibly shy & anxious. My only claim to fame was that I was a geek. Teacher's pet. Obviously that did not score me any points with the cool kids of the class, whom I so badly wanted to impress... Ugh. Life was hard in 7th grade for me.. :) So this girl randomly landed up beside me during Library hour and handed me a Nancy Drew & said 'Read this! I think you'll enjoy it!'. We went on to become really close friends throughout school & college.. :) </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
By middle of 7th grade, I had read every single Nancy Drew there was to read. By end of year, I had exhausted all the Sidney Sheldons in print. My teacher busted me reading Sidney's in class and she YELLED! What are you reading? YOU ARE READING THIS?!... all the while I mentally went, okay so I take it Mills & Boon's are off the table yes? :P. Ah!! Fond memories. :) (Which is also probably why, Sidney Sheldon still exists on my bookshelf. Lots of incidents and memories with each of the books I read more than a decade ago..)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When I moved into my own house, I only carried my book stash with me. I love the collection that I have compiled over these years.. Only 1/4th of all the books I own are currently on my minimalistic book shelf... someday I think an entire wall unit for books is in order. :) </div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCw0PJTfMVeccpuaWXruJGCYAauk54og2xDVW_ktDLNswqMdI9LAQXIC-LHm_UX1_WNa0tIJzxgyr0l7ddNSieSYHSQ2NrVfg-aBI4QOrGFYdwWVpkfkk6aRPxqghZBq7CHK5nKYQ6TYM/s1600/image+(1).jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCw0PJTfMVeccpuaWXruJGCYAauk54og2xDVW_ktDLNswqMdI9LAQXIC-LHm_UX1_WNa0tIJzxgyr0l7ddNSieSYHSQ2NrVfg-aBI4QOrGFYdwWVpkfkk6aRPxqghZBq7CHK5nKYQ6TYM/s1600/image+(1).jpeg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
~ Annie. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
P.S.: A note. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Happy birthday, you. If it hadn't been for a misplaced sense of love 11 years ago, our lives would have turned out very <i>very </i>different. Possibly, lives in which we were more than just spectators, as we are now. I am honestly glad mine turned out this way, I found what I was looking for all those years ago, and I know it is here to stay. I can only hope that you have also found your happy ending, the kind of ending that you are standing just on the brink of now, after all these years. It is a strange, unbelievable, amazing turn of events that has brought you back to literally where you started at, all those years ago, and from here on, I hope you find what you have been seeking all this while. Someday I am going to write about us, and it will like we almost believed it would be like. I think I owe us that. :) </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
----------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
Now Playing: A Movie Script Ending | Death Cab For Cutie </div>
IceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835959360693086550.post-55151389749301821122014-04-01T22:52:00.000+05:302014-04-02T08:23:47.451+05:30Addicted<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>It's been on my mind to do a 30 day challenge once again, but after scouring the internet high and low, I came up with nothing that piqued my interest. Until I just saw that <a href="http://soumya-hintofme.blogspot.in/" target="_blank">Soumya</a>, has taken up this very cool <a href="http://www.a-to-zchallenge.com/" target="_blank">A-Z Blogging Challenge</a>. 26 days of this month, 26 alphabets, with a word of my choosing. I am officially jumping on the bandwagon! :D </i><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>A - Addicted</b></div>
<br />
Addicted to my boys. My day CANNOT begin without kissing them awake. Or them kissing me awake. Whichever works. Lots of goodbye & I-am-back kisses, lots of random you-look-too-cute-so-I-must-do-this kisses. Let's not forget my everyday alarm.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZANsyeEAsNChi9I1knLcwyM9ircsY1cxwmX6t6WPbVMEn6sHYvEZz34Agnwfc4_aR7ZnEGbpLFH9akB1i-urn99PqjGmOVKOOujGiC6iVprwrdmFvOVR7WqpTk6LdOnb-2DgP3vjKcQ0/s1600/photo.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZANsyeEAsNChi9I1knLcwyM9ircsY1cxwmX6t6WPbVMEn6sHYvEZz34Agnwfc4_aR7ZnEGbpLFH9akB1i-urn99PqjGmOVKOOujGiC6iVprwrdmFvOVR7WqpTk6LdOnb-2DgP3vjKcQ0/s1600/photo.PNG" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
:)<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: red;">Edited: My boys = my cats. :P </span></b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6oAlUHZjw_E7B7UtIAepQOrx8aCiVNsFLOiAAT8Ncy58K98VKG2kfgH0yBYnGos7vYmcjp0NKQAlvS9XwxaGtxVtjoN_ur7P37ImdoihfEm3rEDa5NOEiOHf6LQKRT64fa1HRwpCJ99A/s1600/971802_10151719699156204_738452502_n.jpg" height="298" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<br />
Addicted to listening to music. At. All. Times. True story. There have been times when I have drifted off the sleep with music blaring in my ears lol. :) Music in the shower, music when travelling, music while working. You name it, I need (and probably already will have) a soundtrack to it.<br />
<br />
Let's see what else? Was addicted to sheesha when I was in college, because it was an every alternate day/weekend hangout. Dim lights, lots of flavoured(?) smoke, & many a times, Atif Aslam singing in his weird, nasal voice. Good memories of not-so-good habits. :)<br />
<br />
Addicted to emoticons? Well that one was an obvious one.. :P Addicted to dreaming about the future, making lists to get there, and planning things in life. I love doing this, this is probably the only thing that makes me feel 'in control'. Addicted to Facebook. Twitter. Gmail. All the good things on the internet. :)<br />
<br />
... what are are you addicted to then?<br />
<br />
Annie.<br />
P.S.: Addition towards humans is not very healthy & not at all promoted on this blog. :P :)<br />
------------------------------------------------------------<br />
Now Playing: Hometown Glory (Royal Albert Hall live version) | Adele </div>
IceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835959360693086550.post-90408403739952240272014-03-24T12:29:00.000+05:302014-03-24T12:29:23.551+05:30Happy Birthday! :) <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGxobTrGnxCu1XjjYe5Cbx6Ze0RtkWlcP4kBgq8lOiix0ccqa-MSqZe5dwkhS3SnG54srtKxxnvCTBwU9fQUk1OweQjS1wu2HAuD1eugnalGFwWaOSO9412aqnF7FWeeVVr9GcfcVTStE/s1600/number-6-birthday-cake-topper-6th-anniversary-cake-topper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGxobTrGnxCu1XjjYe5Cbx6Ze0RtkWlcP4kBgq8lOiix0ccqa-MSqZe5dwkhS3SnG54srtKxxnvCTBwU9fQUk1OweQjS1wu2HAuD1eugnalGFwWaOSO9412aqnF7FWeeVVr9GcfcVTStE/s1600/number-6-birthday-cake-topper-6th-anniversary-cake-topper.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Happy 6th birthday, blog! :)<br />
<br />
~ Annie.<br />
P.S: Maybe I should do a 30 day challenge again, in efforts to revive up this (almost) dead blog!<br />
<br />
--------------------------------------------------------<br />
Now Playing: London Thumakda | Queen </div>
IceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835959360693086550.post-54536086259813609892014-01-31T23:20:00.000+05:302014-02-01T03:48:02.706+05:30Fools in Love.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggGWEjFjXMXgcXNT1sWXn7kkTxpt262LLMgVd5RHUErUXyPUdl3wa4nhf2s1hnME8ZW_HhnF_ymk4SGEZnvh854psLPawIqrEaMXX2xRPqvW8TKzgMk97NVuc1qZypOugwNEo9liFRL5Y/s1600/DSC_4744_LR.jpg" width="550" /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
He lights his cigarette and passes it on to me, and I light mine off it. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My veins are laced with too much wine, and tobacco, and weed, and my mind conjures up a movie-like sequence, that maybe should best be left up to the movies. Pretty bokeh, blue inky sky et al. I may kiss you if you keep looking at me like that, I say. Then you should, you reply lazily. We smile a synchronous smile, and I should have known, standing with you in a semi-lit room, that this day would go down in history as That Which Should Not Have Happened. We kiss, and the stunning unfamiliarity of your whiskey breath, hits me the second our lips touch.. but no, it is too late to stop now. Pandora's box is open now, and secret and hidden desires are spilling out.. no matter how much she may regret revealing them later on. I need not look into the future to predict if I will or will not stop. I already know this mistake was meant to carry on, write itself in stone, irreversible, immovable. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In a semi-lit room, you undress me, and there is too many substances flowing freely through my system, to worry about consequences. I breathe in your scent, and again, my mind mildly registers its unfamiliarity, something that it had always just imagined, never verified. Now it does, and I drink up your scent, your taste.. It is crude, and hurried, but its done. Its sealed. Its becomes the marker in time, that will always demarcate when I was faithful, and when I was a cheater.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I open my eyes some time later, and for a second, I try fooling myself into thinking it does not matter, it will remain within these dirty sheets, inside this dirty room. But my eyes open soon enough, and my heart goes down buried in a landslide of deep sharp rocks. There is extra gravity on my heart, thats pulling me down.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
~</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Two days later, I meet you in the airport lounge. Twelve hours of flight-time, and yet there is no trace of tiredness in your eyes. Instead there is eager puppy love, which had always amused me. I can tell you are glad to see me.. and you are glad that I am still here with you. That you managed to keep me where you thought I belonged. Where I know now I was always supposed to belong. But its too late now, much too late now. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I allow myself a moment. I crash into you, into your strong arms, like I was begging for you to save me from myself. Curve my body into yours, ignore the noise around us, because soon there is going to be silence between us... and silence is scarier than noise right? Something broke, will you help me fix it please my love? Please please please don't go, please stay? I inhale your scent and allow myself moments when you still think everything is happy and shiny and perfect in our little world, because I know in a few moments I am going to tell you. I am going to tell you that I cheated on you, and see your face change, the light go out in your eyes and the warmth fade from your hands. Things are going to change, forever. Written in stone, irreversible, immovable. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We drive in silence, you are taking me through roads I have never known, but I am too afraid to say anything. I let you drive blindly, and I dare not sneak glances at you. I am afraid to touch you, to fake my excuses, to say he did it first, to say I was too drunk, to open my mouth and form syllables at all, because I am just too afraid. I am afraid to remind you that I told you I sucked at relationships, that I know I will screw it up.. because now to my own self my words sound hollow and made up. You finally stop outside my home, and allow me a minute to gather my things and step out, and then you drive away. You left. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We must survive this. Its you and me, we are meant to be. This can make us stronger, but just let me in. Let me in and try and gather the pieces of the mess I made. Let me in, because I need to. But the phone does not ring. I sit in the silence, and listen to the tick-tock of the wall clock, watch shadows deepen across the walls, and wait for something to change, knowing all to well in my cheating heart that it never will. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
~ Annie. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
P.S: Cigarette smoking & continued drug use are injurious to health. No really. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
...................................................................................................................................................</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Now Playing: Fools in love | Inara George</div>
</div>
IceMaidenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08667516172075286778noreply@blogger.com8