The Battle at IKEA

It was tax-free weekend. A weekend many wait for; splurging on stuff they hardly need or stuff they "might" purchase in the future, all to save 5%. Granted in the end it all adds up and money is tight with all the gas, food, and utility prices going up. We hop in the car and drive down to the nearest IKEA keeping in mind that we...well more like I, do not need to buy everything I like. However, I did need a hanging shelf to put in my room and I knew just what I needed and how to do it. I have a stereo that I bought during my crazy days of youth (4 years ago) which rests on top of my desk. So i finally decided that it had to go up on the wall just so that my other junk has enough space to breathe and grow.

On the way to the shelving section I found this rug that would go perfect in our little "Hookah lounge" we added to our apartment. That way the rug that's already there can be placed in front of the front entrance so people can wipe there shoes that bring in all the dirt and filth into our humble abode. It's a brown/beige one that will match the carpet and the futon mattress (which I consider our "hookah lounge"). I'm carrying it in my hand (pretending to be Arnold in the movie Commando) while walking towards the shelves. Then out of nowhere, this random Indian guy pops out and this is how our conversation went:

Random Indian Guy: "Is that a carpet." (...at first I was gonna say "No, it is my bazooka bitch"...but that's just mean...)

ME: "Oh, it's a rug."(...thinking to myself, OK conversation over...time to move on to my shelves...leave me alone and let me think...)

Random Indian Guy: "What kind is it?" (...out of nowhere his wife and his offspring show up...and now i feel like I'm being bullied and being ganged up by his family and his 2 year old Ninja with his Spice Queen. Aside from being afraid...I was also confused by his question...how does one describe a rug. I looked at the rug and thought to myself, how would a rug describe itself...even more...how does a rug know what KIND it is...its like asking the rug to classify itself...like the race question...please check here if you're rectangle, circle, or square...or Other...what kind of a dumb question is that? Can you imagine a rug introducing him/herself..."Hi, I'm Rug Carpet...I hail from the kingdom Persia...I like to be the center of attention and I don't mind being walked on...just don't trim by hair that stick out from the sides of my square body...oh and also...I love given hickeys, more like burn marks, when people rub up against me"...)

ME: "It's a regular one...you can find it in the rug section" (...hoping to send him on his way, like a lost traveller asking for directions...a dumb question can only be greeted by a dumb answer...so now I'm looking for help...where are my fellow people...one is completely ignoring my looks, pretended to not know me, even though she was right there and had this huge grin on her face and the other comrade bolted like Usmain Bolt running the 200m cause he knew what this guy's intentions were...only cause he has personal experience with this kind of stuff...)

RIG: "Oh so are you from India" (...You've got to be kidding me...how does that even relate to the rug...now I'm stuck in this quick sand while someone was pouring cement...cant get out...what do i do...)

ME: "No, I'm from around here" (...Technically I didn't lie to this man...I am from the states...born and raised...but I knew what he meant...I just didn't want to tell him...which ill tell you why towards the end of this blog...)

RIG: "But you look Indian, your parents must be from India" (...This guy is asking for a beating now...who does he think he is...Miss Cleo?...)

ME: "Well ya, my parents are but I'm from here" (...i caved :(...)

RIG: "Oh they must be from Gujarat" (...this guy thinks he's psychic...)

ME: "Nope" (...clearly they ARE...and so AM I...but I could not let him know...otherwise I would have been there FOREVER...so I had to find an exit strategy...because my other two comrades weren't gonna help me...they were too busy having fun with this...watching me struggle talking to this guy...)

RIG: "Oh then are you from the North, South?" (...I know...he just wont give up...if I said North or the South then he would have busted out the language from that area...I barely know Gujarati properly...forget about talking in Tamil, Marathi, or Malyalum or whatever the language he would have busted out with...)

ME: "Ummm....ya...I'm from the northern westerly side of India...more like towards the middle westerly side....ummm...yaaa" (...I know I know I know...the "westerly" side of India IS Gujarat...I know...)

RIG: "So you ARE from Gujarat" (...thinking like he won a bet or something...)

ME: "Ya I guess so..."(...then all of a sudden his kid started crying...hahaha wohoo....thank you ninja kid...you saved me...your papa almost killed with his psychic powers...interrogating me like BATMAN...but in the end I WON...I WON the battle...well technically I lost...but still...home free...now I walk away and grab my phone from my pocket pretending to talk to someone about something....play over...the END!...)

So now you're wondering why didn't I just answer him truthfully in the first place. Well, it's cause if you tell them everything and answer there questions, then they'll ask for your number...and then you have to give them that as well cause that's just how it goes. Im weak...sorry. And then once they have your number...they keep calling you about business opportunities that they would like to get into and wonder if I would like to help financially and also cause im a US citizen. They do this...yes they do...if you dont believe me...just spend a day at the Cambridge Side Galleria Mall...spend about an hour...and you'll be approached by Krishna...the dude that works the mall area. I didn't know this guy made a business out of it...maybe this IKEA guy was Krishna's recruit. But I swear..it has happened to me before...and believe it or not...I made the mistake of giving my number...(about two years ago)...and the dude STILL calls me to this day. True Story.



Question to Ponder: How to be productive this weekend so I dont feel lazy on Monday?

The Fake Olympics Part II

So here is the second part to the Fake Olympics. I left off with the openning ceremony problems. Now I shall go into the actual games. Im pretty sure that there's more stuff that happens behind the scenes...all I'm doing is commenting about the stuff that I read about. So here goes....

As many people will agree with me, the citizens of Asia have inherited this "fountain of youth" trait. No matter what age they may be, they still look fantastically young. Its amazing...if only they can take this trait, put it in a bottle, and sell it for at least three payments of $29.99; they would make millions..."Age-B-Gone" is what they should market it as. Anyway, so apparently three gymnast from China, not mentioning any names, is underage and should not be performing in the Olympics. Under Olympic regulations, female gymnasts must turn 16 years old during the year of competition. AND...yes AND...this isn't the first time they did this. At Sydney a Chinese gymnast who was listed as 16 when she won double bronzes at Sydney, later went on Chinese television and said she had been 14 when she competed. But let's not go into the 2004 Olympics shall we, because then I'll have to talk about the little leaguer who said he was 13/14 ( I cant remember), but he was actually something older (to me he looked like 23). Whatever happens and whatever verdict comes from this...all I know is that the Gold will loose its luster with these medal winners; and they can blame their country for allowing this to happen. Its a shame. It is outrageous and rodonculous!

Moving from China and to other countries...we come to Sweden. A Swedish wrestler was stripped and disqualified AND sent packing after showing what I can only say a terrible immature, un-athletic, and disgraceful act. Mr Swedish home-boy here was all pissed and through a huge hissy fit when a disputed penalty call decided his semifinal match. Whats' worse is that the person he was wrestling when the call was made eventually won the Gold...what a slap in the face huh. But that's not it tho...what he did after that was the shocking part. So in protest of this penalty call that endid his Olympian career for 2008, he took the bronze medal from around his neck and dropped it on the mat during the medal cermonly and walked out. AND...oh yes this gets better...AND...the IOC (International Olympic Committee), took away his medal for doping. Message to Mr Un-Cool Wreslter, if you're going to be all bad-ass and show your dispute and anger to the WHOLE world in protest of the judges' call during your match then fine...go ahead...more power to you. BUT then don't do it if you know you cheated in the event to begin with. This just proves that cheaters dont succeed. I mean come on dude, win the event fair and square. You sicken me!

There are more stories but I am pretty much done and over with this whole Olympics debacle. I mean, dont get me wrong, I absolutley adore the athletes who actually put in the time and train for four years to be work their asses off so that they could one day be called an Olympian Gold/Silver/Bronze medal winner, but when you read or hear about these scandels; it just becomes depressing. People do cheat, no one is perfect. I myself have cheated a couple times...im not going to lie. Where and at what have I cheated I will not say, but you can take my word bout this though...I have never ever cheated during an official sporting event.

This is probably my shortest blog ever. Please comment and share your feelings about these so called Olympics...which really should be called...Cheatalympics.



Pondering thought: If quitters never win, and winners never quit, what fool came up with, "Quit while you're ahead."?

The Fake Olympics Part I

I've been thinking of a topic to write about and couldn't come up with anything interesting. I thought I could write about how our government hasn't done anything about our high gas prices and hoped to understand the reasoning why we're not drilling our own land for oil. But then I would have had to done so much research to get my facts right and I didn't have time for that. Then I was going to write about how Indian women are more appealing to me than any other woman out there; and why is it that I want to settle down with only and Indian woman. But this again was a bit too controversial and people would get the wrong idea so I decided to scrap this topic as well. So this brings us to the actual topic that I will be writing about. The Olympics!

What to say about the Olympics? When I hear the word Olympics or come across a conversation that mentions the word, I think about Olympia, Greek. Obviously we were not there during these sporting games but we've all heard about this one time or another. So when I picture the Olympics in my head...I see good....very good looking women surrounding the stadium. I see natural athletes...drug-free sportsmen playing for the public and not for themselves. Hercules throwing the discus miles and miles away. Artemis winning the archery events with his eyes closed. And instead of Michael Phelps winning the gold for swimming, you'll see Poseidon winning effortlessly all water events; one man water-polo team. Obviously these winners of the events were greatly admired and were immortalized in poems and statues. That's what you'll see in my head...oh and did I mention there were a lot of good looking Greek goddesses and naturally beautiful women during the Olympics?

But now-a-days, for many, the word Olympics brings a couple of words to our heads: Boycotts, Doping, Politics, Violence, and Lying. I could go on and on and talk about these topics, but I wouldn't want to bore you with that. I want to talk about the Lying and cheating part of the Olympics.

So far, I've read about four articles that have put a bad impression in my head. The first is the one about the cute little girl who sang at the opening ceremony. Wasn't that a great opening ceremony? Oh wait...hold on...my bad...nevermind...it wasn't the cute girl that sang, it was some OTHER poor girl who never made it to the stage. Ya, i know....the girl who we all thought was a child prodigy was LIP-SYNCING the whole freaking time. So why China? Why would you make a little girl lip-sync? Oh right that's why....because the original girl that sang thats song had a little...very very minute "tooth" deformity. So you threw this poor little to the sharks and sent her packing, while you put some girl...(who LOOKS the same as the other girl)...on stage and made her smile and LIE to the whole entire world. Good job China...Good move...in fact..this was so good...i award you the Gold Medal for being stupid and retarded. Serioulsy people, is that what it's come down to?? Only "pretty" people are allowed on screen? I tell you what...why dont you [China] throw some many back into your people and help them pay for shit....like maybe BRACES for a poor girl you cheated! And if you really want "good" looking people in your country, then why dont start by throwing Hu Jintao (current President of China) out of office for having a stupid ass haircut that wears stupid ass glasses....dumbass ass Communist ulgy looking face.

Wait wait wait...dont go yet...we still have three more articles to go. I fell that by the time im done with this...there probaby another article floating the internet about some retard who felt he/she needed to cheat the system for a Gold Medal. Well let me tell ya something...its more embarrasing for you to be humiliated by the WHOLE world and be labelled as a cheater for the rest of your life. Ya....have some fried rice with that information with extra soy sauce. So the second article...which i thought was pretty clever and a little lame also had something to do with the opening ceremony. I was recently informed that the firworks during the opening ceremony where all CGI. Ya...they werent as great as they were on TV. Thats sucks cause the people that were there probably were pissed at the cheapness the republic are...(even we Gujus are not this cheap). While at home, everyone's like "WOW!! Ohhhhh....Ahhhhhhing" over the fireworks. Again China...why? Why must you do this? Why must you humiliate yourselves? We know you'll good at Computers...but that doesnt mean you can CHEAT just to impress other nations. I hope you guys realises this....you had almost 4 years to prepare....buy some more fireworks losers. Go to India...they have a shit load...Ill give you a number you can call...he'll hook you up.

The rest of this topic will be blogged as "The Fake Olympics Part 2".



Question to Ponder: If you take an Oriental person and spin him around several times, does he eventually become disoriented?

The Weekend

Weekends are mini-vacations that come to slow and go to quick. I love the weekends; I spend my time doing nothing but catch up on sleep and from time to time I run errands that can’t be finished during the work week. This also gives me a chance to work on building my table. It’s just that I hate waking up so early and driving to work! What is worse is that I am also that person who cannot go to sleep early and has no patience whatsoever. Not a good combo, but it has been something that I have been doing well ever since freshmen year. I need my sleep or I do not function well. Bringing me to why I am talking about loving my sleep…I overslept and was late for work. I love my work and I love what I do…it’s the waking up bit that hard to get over.

I have a routine; more like a ritual that I go through every morning. I wake up and hit the snooze button twice. And then finally I wake up and ponder whether I should call in sick. Then I take a quick glance at my desk and remember about the bills I have to pay so naturally I’m up making my bed. I take my nice soft towel that I purchased from Target for $11 and head to the bathroom. I take a dump, and then brush my teeth… (Yes I DO wash my hands after I take my dump)…then jump into the shower. I take exactly 8 minutes in the shower working myself from top to bottom. I only wash my hair once my feet are clean. I don’t know why, but this is something that I noticed yesterday; probably something that I picked up from boarding school. After “lather, rinse, and repeating” the cocoa butter bath soap on me with my luffa sponge, I shampoo. I don’t use conditioner because it thins my hair and makes it too soft, which collides with my minty smelling herbal tea hair product fixer thingy. And then eight minutes later I’m in my room trying to figure out what to wear. That’s the routine…weekend or no weekend…that’s my routine.

The weekend. It’s hard to sum up a feeling so wonderful and joyous in one sentence. So much happened over this weekend. This is the 2-second preview…pay attention. Friends came to visit…about 7 of them. We had about ten people in our apt. It was fun…it was a preview of what it’ll be like in three weeks once everyone is back from their summer break. Friday I accompanied my beloved sister and cousin on a college information session/tour at two universities. It brought back memories of when I had to go through the same process. It was boring, but very informative. I remember my dad taking me to MIT; which ended up with me, my brother, and my cousin falling asleep. The papa wasn’t too happy about that. During the information session on Friday, I realized that I wanted to go back to school and get my masters. Education is amazing when you think about it. Education can shape your future, and for some even re-shape the present. A proper education with a cup full of time and effort can lead to a wonderful job and to endless opportunities… (Remind me to look into this please).

For the rest of the weekend we explored the city again; sightseeing, you know…the touristy thing to do. This also brought back my hate for taxi drivers. I understand they’re trying to make a living and that their pay depends on the number of customers they pick up. But that doesn’t mean they can run red lights, ignore pedestrian crossings, cut off other drivers without signaling, or even honk their horn as soon as it turns green. Taxi drivers are the rudest, most annoying, and most dangerous drivers on the road. If only I were a policeman ….interesting thought isn’t it…me becoming a policeman. Can you imagine if I became a policeman; I’d probably ticket every cab driver; especially those who don’t signal when making turns. The law says, and I quote from the state website…

”Every person operating a motor vehicle, before stopping said vehicle or making any turning movement which would affect the operation of any other vehicle, shall give a plainly visible signal by activating the brake lights or directional lights or signal as provided on said vehicle...”.

Take that! Stupid cab drivers who think they own the road and think they can play god by running through lights and almost hitting pedestrians and honking the horn unnecessarily while talking on the phone. How about we just hand you a $100 ticket…and here’s another $100 ticket for thinking you’re cool! Ka-POW! I would help the state generate more income with all the tickets I would give out. The state should just hand me an honorary police badge. Police badges are good with the ladies…and also provide many discounts at certain places…like the BK lounge.

So that was the weekend. A good weekend…one of the best weekends.



Something to ponder over:

"Karmanu ave adhikars te ma phalesu kadachana ma karmaphal hetur bhoo ma sangostu akramani".

~Bhagavad Gita

Translation:

“Thou hast power only to act not over the result thereof. Act thou therefore without prospect of the result and without succumbing to inaction”

The Morning Commute

My morning commute isn't as bad as people who have to take 93N. They’re backed up beyond the Route 3 split at Braintree. I usually take 93S and about 30 miles later I'm at work. That's about 60 miles a day...1,200 miles a month. JUST to get to work...and what’s worse is that these gas prices aren't helping either. I fill up...about $80 every 10 days...that roughly makes $240 a month. That’s $1 for every 5 miles; too much math for you? Now that I mention this...my life has come down to comparing everything to gas prices. Before I buy anything, I convert it into something that I like to call "Gas Miles". Express dress shirts are about 250 gas miles. Milk is about 20 gas miles. Burger King is about 50 gas miles if you King-size it. So now I hope people realize why I ask for "Student Discount" wherever I go. I will ALWAYS go the extra mile to get ANY discount... (That is about 0.20 cents ;) if you do the math)!

Lucky for me I've found a route that takes me the same amount of time (45 minutes) but a third of the distance. You read it right; I did say a third (which is about 10 miles each way for people who can’t do math). How is this possible you ask? I have three letters for you.....GPS!!!! Works wonders....I thank my fellow engineers for inventing the GPS. Good Job!

Back to commute. Driving through the back roads can be fun...but not when you're stuck behind a 90-year-old lady going 15mph who’s wearing glasses that are bigger than the Hubble Telescope....who ALSO has her right turn blinker on. That's DOUBLE the road rage. The city of Boston needs to start an "Elderly Bus" Service. Drop them off and pick them up whenever they please. Monthly payments for $49.99…24 hours a day, 7 days a week…except holidays cause that’s when you’re suppose sleep in…it could work. Yes I know what you’re thinking, “What about the T?”…I say forget the T...because even at the T you’re still waiting for them trying to find their Charlie Card in their ten foot “Bermuda triangle hand bag”, EVEN though they've had about 20 minutes to do that before the T even arrived. But...I'll give them some slack...because it's not only them...there are other people, tourists, and even young people, who still wait till the last minute to whip it out...(that's what she said). And don’t even get me started on how it feels when they find out they don’t have enough cash on the freaking Charlie Card. I mean come on....it's raining...I want to get on the freaking bus/train. The evil stare doesn't work either when I pass by them while taking my seat. Maybe a little Guajarati would freak them out.

This lady is starting to piss me off. I tried overtaking her but the cab driver next to her was driving just as slow. That’s another thing…why do people in the left lane and right lane drive the same speed. The left lane is for overtaking…not CRUISING! I hate cab drivers. I honked my horn and the cab driver flipped me off. I KNOW! Oh no he didn’t! It’s only fair that I respond to his birdie. What could I possible do to counter-attack his birdie? I could give him the double birdie. But, if I do that, then who will man the wheel… the driving Hubble Telescope could hit the brakes for no apparent reason…cause that’s what they all do…they randomly brake. They see a guy crossing the road a mile away and what do they do…BRAKE! No double birdie today. I look around in my car for a pen and paper to write him a little note and display it while I drive by him as I cut him off. I found the pen, but no paper. Oh wait; my baseball bat…awesome…a quick display of the baseball bat does wonders. He slows down and I’m home free. My baseball bat 1 – the rest of the world 0.

This is my typical morning commute. There is on upside to today’s commute…tomorrow is my day off. I won’t have to yell at the old lady again for driving slow. I won’t have to get mad at the City of Boston for not spending enough money to repave the roads. And I won’t have to use my ever so powerful baseball bat. Life is beautiful!



Question to ponder: What’s for Dinner?

The Beginning

So what am I suppose to write in here? Is this suppose to be a conversation between myself and myself...some kind of a monologue? Or am i just suppose to rant on about my day-to-day activites? Well whatever it is...I hope people enjoy it.