Diary of a young girl

My preps were alright, although, I had started at 5:00 P.M and had stretched it upto 12:00 A.M in the night, (obviously which enormously leisurely breaks in the middle) which was when I decided 7 hours is too long for about 14 experiments. But even then I hadn’t got it firmly in my head, I couldn’t relate to the picture of the apparatus in my head the stuff I was reading about.
I stayed up till 2:00 A.M. doing this and that, and then went on the net (again). I’m telling you, this is addiction, if anything is.
I languished for about 40 mins, eM’d got a tattoo, inkblot’d written many love songs – some of which are so, so poignant; if I was still bitter about the past, I’d be crying buckets now.
Anyway, I finally got around to sleeping at 3:00 A.M, and I wasn’t anxious about waking up, for I’d had a pretty relaxed day and was well fed and rested. I had my physics final laboratory exam at 9:00 A.M, which gave me about 3-4 hours of sleep.
I asked my sister to wake me up, and blissfully dreamt away.

7:03 A.M
Dad: You’re supposed to have an exam today aren’t you? What’re you still doing in bed?
Me: (wrapping the sheets a little closer round myself) yeah, Aisha said she’ll wake me up. Leave me alone

***Blurry dreams***

8:35 A.M
Mom: What time is your exam Nia? (Nia: her nick for me)
Me: It’s at 9, lemme be. I didn’t sleep well last night.
Mom: (sharp gasp) What? Its 8:40!
Me: What the..? (And I could just stop myself from saying the f--- word)

***Blurry reality***

8:55 A.M

I got sis to drop me, I was a bloody wreck by the time I got to college.
I did a bit of pretentious, shoddy revision, y’know, the kind where nothing really goes into your head, but it seems to calm your psyche a little?

9:15 A.M
Teacher: You picked the tangent galvanometer, go over to table 3.

9:45 A.M
Thankfully, this was one experiment I’d actually enjoyed working, so I knew it pretty well. I had the formulae, the procedure, the circuit diagram and the tabular columns all drawn up and ready.
I got it checked by the external examiner who gave me a glance and asked me to write neatly.
I trudged back to my table to make the circuit connections and perform the experiment, and in five minutes I began to black out, and come back.
My white knuckles held on to the bar below the table for dear support; I was shaking, sweating, inexplicable things were happening to me. I shut my eyes for one long minute, and held the coil of the T.G in my hands to align the pointer needle.
And I fell on it. No typo. I fell on the coil.

The EE was standing nearby, and he got the lab attendant to sit me down, and give me some water. I actually thought the bottle of water was heavy! By this time I was sweating profusely, and getting the faintly feeling. It’s this thing when you feel sleep is so overpowering you just cannot care about anything else. I just wanted to curl up and snore right there.
The EE told me to take my time and be calm, he told me not to worry or get too tensed. I yawned at him.
In my head, I was teetering between telling the teacher I just wanted to go home, or doing the experiment and heroically triumphing at it. The egotist in me finally took the latter option.
So after about 10 minutes of sitting, drinking water, and watching other people do their experiments and look over their shoulders at me from time to time, I stood up to turn on the switch and record the ammeter readings.
I felt the barf rise up from my stomach. I desperately looked around for a sink, found one, ran to it, and threw up massively. I threw up for 2 minutes straight. The lone chocolate I’d had the night before seemed to have made its exeunt. I hadn’t eaten anything since 2:00 the previous night.
But puking made all the difference. I felt much better, cleaner (don’t ask how), and fitter. Less faintly. I got the logarithm table, did my experiment, recorded the values, and got some fuckall value I didn’t even care to verify.
I submitted my paper, barely had the energy to walk down the stairs even. I met this girl I’d once bought lunch for. I went up to her and asked her to take me home, no questions nothing. Not even a hi.
She did take me home (Bless her!)
And I dragged my feet to my room, flopped down on the bed, and slept for an hour.

Since then, I’ve been doing nothing but talk about it; right now I’m typing it. And I’m getting people to do stuff for me for pauvre moi is sick.
Me (with bambi eyes): I wanted the Appy fizz if you’re going toward the supermarket…

Bam! A bottle of Appy fizz in the fridge!

Me: Can you get me some ice-cream? I’ve been feeling a little woozy, I think I need to cool my system (whatever that means!)

(Well, that’s pending. Sis isn’t back home yet. But I’m so gonna get it)

Parting shot: Turns out the value I got was right. So I rock! But not so much, my habits suck.

The rebel without a cause

17.

Friggin' old.

Although,
the thing that does matter,
Is the thing inside me
which is what my blog is all about.

one more year before I can take a car out, run over all the people that piss me off, and then drive off a cliff, and fall off an endless abyss.
Maybe like James Dean.
Maybe burning out is better than fading away.. yeah. (Thanks, Mr.Young. Forever Indebted)

peace out.

One of them now

I’m one of them now.

I feel stark sorrow and joy.

I talk in decipherable terms;

I’m civil, I wonder of harmless happenings

I have chained my neurons

To the mundane textbooks of today

I speak of winning, as if there is only one way

I dare not, of a path untrodden.

It pains me deepest, the thought that the switch

May be permanent, not sth guided by will

Become something I can settle for, be calmer with.

I used to wander, free, unbridled.

I would laugh, and cry, and my eyes would round

At the death of innocence

I have a pace, a path now. Did I ask for this?

Or did I not, and was it thrust?

Sadly, I may never know.

Much more sadly, even, I may never seek it.

I think, therefore I am single

Yes, I know I haven't blogged in a while. But like you care, you know?

Nobody cares.

I'm all alone in this dark and dingy soulless world.

waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah-haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

k. moment's over.

Thing is, I'm blogging also, under this new URL - being on the law website. Its really cool. Called Lysergic Acid Diethylamide

5 points for those of you who can correctly tell me what Lysergic Acid Diethylamide is, and which are the two awesome bands they can be associated with.

All for now.

G'day!

Edit: It is nice to have someone to talk to, 's all am saying.
Weird coming from me, but I hope everyone finds love.

Mon premiere Accident de Voiture

For those lesser mortals, that, translated into english means "My first motor accident", which I had today (with self as causative factor). Of course, I have been in other accidents - one which I was in because of my sister, we hadn't indicated that we were turning to the right and then this guy in a luna was speeding, he banged into us and we lay on the footpath dazed and out of our senses. I had a deep cut down my right foot where I could see my own fat cells. (The one thing about accidents and wounds is that they don't actually feel so bad as they sound when you're explaining them to someone; so its more brownie points really) And my sister had this humongous gash down her leg, because of the scar of which she refuses to wear skirts and capris to date. Of course, I believe its because she doesn't find many to fit her, but you know, truth hurts. That explanation always works better.
*I love scars. According to me, they're sexy. I'd love to see a long, hollowed stain on my body - kinda like testimony to my pugnacity. Now don't say being in an accident is not pugnacious, because I know its not, but I like the word, and I like the rebellious quality the word implies. So there.*
We were taken to our house, and my mom went hysterical. They pulled me out of the auto and I suddenly became unconscious. Then, typically, I lay there slipping from my mom's hands and someone sprinkled a bit of water on my face and I regained conscious.
And then at the dumbass nursing home, sis had to get like 10 stitches, we were brought back home and we got a stream of visitors. Friends, acquaintances, relatives all of 'em called on us, and brought us flowers, chocolates et al. (See, that's what I was talking about)

But this post was supposed to be about my accident today - which wasn't really as interesting an incident as the one above.
For one, I skidded on a pile of sand while turning to the left, and went rolling into the sand and landed up in front of this house that rears cows and sheep. The owners came out, wondering who scared their precious bovids, and there I lay - beaten, in all glory. So yeah, it wasn't very nice performing for an audience of cows and sheep which got scared away, and for another, I did crash close to a friend's place, and I went over to clean up. Now, this guy is so sweet he always gives me chocolates when I go over, and makes his prided tea. I don't fancy the tea very much, but c'mon, Ferrero Rocher! But today, he didn't have any. Today, when I was so shaken, and gloomy bout my fall and riding skills.
And I haven't got my tetanus shot yet, so I might get the disease.

Ho-hum. G'day y'all.

p.s. I hate this post, 'tis shallow, unfunny and 'now-why-exactly-do-I-visit-this-blog' reputation marring, but do leave comments reiterating the same.

Got stuff

Oh my. Oh my.

The internet,
while 'tis a many splendoured thing;
lures me to it, like a wafting aroma
like a flying biscuit to a hungry dog
I want to, I try to, I fail, at
getting away. Far, far from this madding place

While my time-table beckons,
like medication to a sulking patient
while the 'things to do' pile up
by the hour, by the day,
I am wasting, wasting, blogging!

And all that it is,
all purposes served,
all praises showered,
the internet will kill me
if naught else.

the king is dead, all hail the king!

My Life List

Funny, that around New Year’s I should stumble upon a scrap of paper called ‘My life List’ which I’d written when I was fourteen. Inspired by ‘Chicken Soup for the Soul’, I had prepared a comprehensive list of things which I’d wanna achieve, by setting myself a specific time. The colored italicised comments have been included by me, now. Oh woe is the cynic in me!

1. To Do:-
(a) Become 5’6” at least by tenth. (I have given up. No point at all, it’s genetic. I blame mother)
(b) Weigh 48-50 kg at 15, and 50-55 at 20 (umm...okaay then!)
(c) Let my hair grow till the waist without dandruff however long it takes.
(d) Clear my skin. (any tips, seriously?)

2. To read:-
(a) All the works of Shakespeare
(b) The books why, when, how, where etc., extensively and do a project on one of them.
(c) Time-life books that are at home.
(d) Histories of the world
(e) The biographies, autobiographies of great people.
(Some more to be added later)
3. To appear:-
(a) In a fashion show for my mom’s boutique (she’s closed it down now)
(b) On stage nationally, or internationally singing (no joke. This I will do)
(c) In some national/international quiz show.
(d) To star in a movie or video. (anyone auditioning? Mail me!!)

4. To achieve:-
(a) Typing speed of 55 wpm. (achieved! Thanks to internet)
(b) Plant at least 1000 trees before I’m 20 (all I can say now is “yeah, right”)
(c) Live without T.V. for a month (achieved! Thanks to internet)
(d) Get first rank somewhere, before I’m 20 (waaah!!:-( )
(e) Live without chocolates for a whole year
(f) Live without ice-cream for a year
(g) Get my poetry published in a book
(h) Get more than 93% in every subject in the boards. (it was close, but don’t see chances of even a near deja-vu now)
(i) Earn enough on my own, to buy a watch before I’m 15. (still counting)

5. To study:-
(a) Get a degree in some foreign University.
(b) At least 10 languages. (not so difficult really. If you count knowing how to say “hello” and “thank you” as knowing the languages)

6. To get:-
(a) /own a farm house.
(b) Rid of my specs someday (yaay!! Huzzah for lens! And mom’s overflowing coffers)
(c) A steady boyfriend – start my search around 17. (actually, {ooh!})
(now, what I meant by that, you can guess)
(d) One true friend. (I see now that I’m not the type to keep one, so that’s outta the window)
(e) In touch with all the people I know. (really, I was so much wiser then)

7. To clean:-
(a) My room once and for all so that its never dirty before 2002 ends. (is it 2006? Already?)
(b) The rubbish next to my house (well, the parthenium does stuff to my skin, and I really don’t like the
smell…)
8. To write:-
(a) at least 100 poems. (I seem to have used the phrase “at least” with utmost callousness!)
(b) The most funny plays. At least 8-10. (see??)


AND FINALLY, EVERYDAY, DO ONE THING THAT I HATE DOING. BUT IT SHOULD BE GOOD FOR ME.

P.S. (as is obvious I didn’t know what p.s. meant back then) Be proficient in wood carving, clay modeling etc..