Lost in Translation

Do you know what Moringa is?

If you do, tell me one thing...did you Wiki-it or Google-it or did you just know? If you belong to the last category, then wow! I mean, really, wow!

It's not that I did not know about it but the fact that when I did find out what it was, I laughed so hard that I'm sure my landlady thought I was having a crazy fit.

Background story time: My friend/colleague/co-intern was leaving this Friday and she's been such a big help not just to me but to all the interns in my office. So when people started talking about gifts for her, I pitched the idea of a gift-set from 'The Body Shop'. People weren't too enthusiastic about it and so I decided to just do it on my own. I owed her a lot and she was such a dear to me when I first moved here. I left office a little early and headed right into the center of the city near the Dom and made my way to 'The Body Shop'. I wandered around and tried 4 or 5 different fragrances and decided on one that was named Moringa. I checked the label and it said nothing about the flower or the fragrance which was weird. But the fragrance was really nice and I liked it a lot and decided to just go for it.

But I was curious about this Moringa flower ('cause the bottle had this small white flower in the label) and kept thinking about it on the ride home. I settled down with a cup of coffee and Google cum Wiki'd it. And this is what I got:

Moringa oleifera, the word Moringa probably came from dravidian language Tamil and commonly referred to as Murungakai.

For those of you who don't get it...I'm a Tamilian and my native language is the dravidian language Tamil. And no, I did NOT know this.

And Moringa or Murungakai is a vegetable that is very common in the southern part of India. It's considered to have very high nutrition value and the plant or tree is even grown in most homes. It's leaves and fruit (or the vegetable Murungakai) is regularly included in our diet.

If my mom heard about this, she'd guffaw and say: "Murungakai scent a namma ooru la vithu paaru...kall-ala adi pattu sethu than pove". Loosely translated: if you try to sell this in India, you'd probably get stoned to death.

I wonder what other "exotic" fragrances I would find in The Body Shop :)

Geet & Me

There is nothing similar about me and the lovable character of Geet. Actually we are poles apart. But I do feel kindred towards her character for one reason: running behind trains/buses/rickshaws etc.

All my friends from Bangalore would vouch for the fact that no matter how early I wake up or how quickly I get ready in the morning, I am always late by a silly 2 minutes. It may not seem much, but it is enough to make me run behind the bus; literally everyday. I can actually count on my two hands the number of times that I have reached the stop early and waited for the bus. Yes, I am that bad. But in my defense, if it wasn't for me...Koramangala 4th block (SONY Signal or Maharaja Hotel stop) would have no entertainment. From running across the busy SONY Signal without waiting to check for traffic, to running alongside the bus a good 20 feet and banging on the sides to get the cleaner's attention, to cutting across the path of the bus in filmi-suicidal style...I have done it all. And I guess that is also the reason that no cute guy on my bus ever made the effort to talk to me. Such is life! *SIGH*

At USC, I live two blocks from my campus; so I walk to school daily. But of course here in Germany, my office is located in a village. Yes, a village. There is nothing here except for this huge plant. Nothing else. So obviously I live in a nearby city; that is slightly bigger, better and well connected. But which also means that I need to depend on a bus/tram AND a train to get me to office everyday. Not just one bus or train. But two switches. Which means twice the amount of running. My apartment has a bus stop just around the corner. I can actually see the buses and trams making their way to the stop and I obviously run everyday to catch up. After that, once I reach the Hauptbahnhof, I have to go all the way to platform 5 A for my train. Which means two floors (that's two escalators) and crossing the main lobby. All of which of course I run across. The one good thing though, is that in the Hauptbahnhof...EVERYONE is running one way or another. So I don't mind it much.

So like any normal day, I step out and see Bus # 60 already at the stop. I quickly check my watch and start sprinting. As I crossed the taxi stand, I heard a sickening crunch over my right shoulder like glass or brittle plastic shattering on the concrete pavement. I paid no heed to it and continued sprinting to the bus. An old man was good enough to keep the doors open for me as I made it in the nick of time. I found a seat and sat down to catch my breath. Then, I remembered that strange sound and decided to make sure that I had all my things with me. My handbag was clasped shut but the sleeve where I keep odd ends like mints, phone, ID card and other girlie-stuff had no zipper or clasp. So I groped around without even bothering to look inside to make sure that all the things were inside and not on a pavement around the corner. That's when I missed it. That familiar square-tubish, leathery feel of my lipstick holder. I looked inside and didn't find it. Now, judge me all you want but it was NOT just a lipstick holder. It was a gift from a very, very special someone and I had my favorite shade of L'Oreal in it. The lipstick itself didn't matter much because I could get it at any CVS or WalGreens. It was the lipstick holder that mattered more to me than anything else.

All this while, the bus had not moved away and I double, triple checked only to realize that I didn't have it on me. Which was weird because in true tradition, I always wear my lipstick on the elevator ride down from my apartment and I had just used it. So I couldn't have left it at the apartment. As all these thoughts flashed through my mind I hesitated just a nano-second before deciding to de-board the bus. I really didn't care that I would have to take the next train and be 30 mins late to office...but I needed that lipstick holder back. I ran again after checking the screen for the next tram to Hauptbahnhof in 5 minutes and reached the taxi stand. I started looking everywhere...under the bushes...near the cycle stands...under the nearest parked taxi...everywhere...but darn it! It wasn't there. I was so heart-broken. And that's the exact minute that my phone decided to beep about low-battery warning. I impatiently looked inside the bag and there...right next to my cheap, 10 Eruo phone was my lipstick holder. I had no time to even rejoice as the next tram was almost at the stop...so cursing and mentally kicking myself for being such a fool; I ran to catch my tram and even managed to make it to my train which was *drumroll* 5 minutes late...yay!

In conclusion: I have held up my tradition and provided pure entertainment value not only to 4th Block Koramangala...but also to Bismarckplatz in my small city. I think I just found my life's true purpose :)

Affirmation

I was talking to my friend Sunitha a couple of days ago and she mentioned something* that made me literally stop and think. What she said had little to do with me per say and more to do with how I view myself.

I think very poorly of myself. How and where that comes from, I'm not too sure...but I think it has something to do with my up-bringing. I was never the model child in my family. I was a brat, to put it mildly. I had issues and I had no idea how to deal with them. The only way that I knew was to be rebellious. This of course made my parents worry a great deal and the only way that they thought would change me was to compare me with anyone and everyone around. To them, any child on the road was better than me. From my sister (who btw, was THE model child) to all of my classmates. So obviously I hated them all, including my sister. But it also made me feel highly inadequate about my own abilities. And the little things that I could do well, I always looked for external validation from others to make me feel surer. Surer that yes, I was actually good at something.

And I carry this like a burden on me to this day. Another spin-off about this issue of mine is that I also constantly evaluate myself (and my life) based on what others have achieved. By others I mean those people my parents thought right to compare me against. So it comes as a horrible surprise when someone does the same with me as the yard-stick. I feel like gagging when I hear people tell me that. Because I am doing the exact same thing with someone/anyone/everyone else.

I have nothing against my parents, believe me. They did the best job they could with a brat like me. And all that I am today is because, whatever it is that they did...it was a dammed good job 'cause I am in a good place in my life. Of course, I had problems in my growing-up years but which teenager didn't? It reminds me of this song that I loved in my teenage years...Affirmation by Savage Garden. And this one line in particular: "I believe your parents did the best job they knew how to do". It's not like our parents were interviewed or shortlisted before they became mom and dad. And it's not like prior experience was a pre-requisite to become parents. They just married and had kids. Because that's what they did. Come to think of it, that's what most of us are going to do too. Or have already done. Whatever. No one has answers to these kind of questions and it anyways demands a completely different post in itself.

Which brings me to the other issue that I have. Now, I do understand that this kind of comparison does make me get off my lazy ass and do things for myself. But it also makes me look at some others on my down-in-the-dump days and say to myself: " Thank God, I'm better than him/her". Now before you get all judgmental on me...cut me some slack! I'm human, after all. But here again the sick part that I can't help think about is...who is looking at me like that and saying the same thing to themselves? You know, the one with "Thank God, I'm better off than A".

Oh, it makes me feel sick... :(

* Sunitha said that she learnt a lot of things from me. That she wonders how I am so responsible about things in life and even take care of every small issue that she didn't even know would need attention in life. It made me smile then; and it makes me smile now. Thanks Sunitha :)

.F.M.L.

The first time I saw these 3 words was on Stevie's status message and although UrbanDictionary.com had given me the "definition", on an imp I asked Stevie what it meant and enjoyed the brief "education" from him on Americana.

Today is my FML day. And there's no escaping it.

Also, it's confession time. So here goes (deep breath): I CANNOT LIVE ALONE

There, I've said it.

The so-called independent me does not mind saying this. Because I don't think that being independent is synonymous with being alone. I moved out when I was 22 and I've lived independently ever since. I survived on my own and learnt about everything from signing cheques to always keeping an extra tube of toothpaste or storing a couple of hundred bucks in a small purse in the bottom shelf of the cupboard for those emergency days when my forgetfullness caught up with me. I learnt it all and I am proud of it.

But that doesn't mean that I am going to stay alone for the rest of my life. No. I refuse to do that. And the simple reason for the same being that I hate myself when I stay alone. I become whiny, wallow often in self-pity, have horrible mood swings like I'm constantly PMSing, start skipping meals, be a couch potato on weekends etc. I hate myself!

I need people around me. Within reach. Not a phone-call or mail or any of that crap. I mean really within reach. Who can come over and give me a hug and sit next to me with a Kleenex box when I am howling away about something/anything stupid. Who can give me a pep-talk when I am too depressed and put my head through a wall when I am being too depressing. I need people like that.

There have only been 2 instances when I have been really "alone". And both the times were in Germany. Which is a weird coincidence. The first time I came here on a work project, the recession hit and all the people were called back. Since my project was already billed, there was no reason to send me back and so they let me stay. I spent 2 weeks alone in the huge guest house until mom came during Diwali to stay with me and keep me company for about a month. This time around, mom was kind enough to offer to come again...but with my student stipend it was impossible for me to afford a place where we could stay. So I obviously said no. But how I wish I could have had someone with me. I spent 3 blissful weeks in June travelling and meeting my classmates around Europe and those 3 weeks were the only time I remember being genuinely happy. So I guess that further proves my point.

Now with less than 3 weeks to go, I am getting frustrated and I want to go home. Now. Right now. I have had enough of this staying alone crazy routine. I just want to be home. With familiar faces all around of me. Friends within huggable distances. Company that can be easily assembled for a "chai-time" get-together or leftovers potluck. All of that. And more.

I am going to be 27 soon and I've had it. I've taken care of myself long enough. And now I want to be taken care of for a change.

I need a place called home. With people in it called friends and family.

Hmmm...hmmm...hmmm...

--> On days like this, I think God is definitely male

--> urbandictionary.com is not accessible in office. Apparently it comes under the category of "profanity"

--> I have sat with my legs supported on a box since 9 AM...inner peace...inner peace!

--> I need to stitch up that rip in my sweater or stop wearing it to work or make peace with the stares I get

--> I called a friend skrud-face because I remembered it from an episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S.

--> Had a very nice surprise yesterday from a special, stupid, crazy, loveable someone. Kept smiling the whole day for no reason except that a name and a person kept popping in front of my eyes

--> You know you are in love when all the songs makes sense. - Inspired from Castle

--> My recent conversations with a particular friend goes like this:

d: guess what

me: wat?

d: chicken butt

me: skrud face

d: whaaaaaaat

me: wat wat?

d: i have a sexy face

me: or so your mirror would have you think

d: that word is nonsense

me: thats what all skrud faces say

d: have you been drinking at work?

me: i wish i was

d: no you dont

me: why not?

d: because you dont drink. now tell me something sweet!!!!!!

me: gulab jamun

d: oh god...what in the world is that

me: its a sweet

d: i need it in english

me: waffle balls

--> I love my Maybelline mascara and hate my Maybelline eyeliner...I need to find that L'Oreal eyeliner that I packed in one of the 4 bags I bought with me for an internship of 3 months to Germany

--> And I also cannot find that 4-pack of Maggi that I packed in one of those 4 bags

--> It has been raining for one week straight here...meh

--> Some cleaning lady in office threw away my packet of appalam. I found it in the newly changed trash bag all by itself. It was double-bagged anyways, so I picked it up and inspected it and decided to keep it sans the double bags. Don't judge

--> I spent Saturday creating Friends lists and now I have categorised the 271 friends on FB (with new, updated Privacy settings)

--> I hate it when my s's are forcefully converted to z's. I don't believe in conversion of any form or nature

--> Today is Sankatahara Chaturthi and I miss home and my kutti pilaiyar kovil

--> I have 7 GB of songs on my hard-disk but I have no idea which ones to put on my iPod...VJ, where are you when I need you the most?

--> I told someone today that he smells like spring and summer in a bottle...I really need to follow that "Think twice before you speak" advice that people talk about

--> I'm going through a anti-food phase after I weighed myself yesterday night

--> I miss Mai, Chand and Radz. All of you should move to Germany with me for the next 3 weeks and then to the US for the next 5 years. This is an order. Or I will commit suicide. I mean it

--> I cannot stop counting the days until Aug 13. But it also means that I am counting faster to turn 27 and that is not good

--> I am turning 27...'nuff said

...and I end the post on this depressing note...*belch*

Hop, Skip and Jump

I wonder if people know what I am doing.

Do they notice the way I walk based on the rhythm of the song playing in my iPod?

Can they see the smile when the song is reminiscent of a happy memory?

Or the gentle sway of my hips as I try to strut in tune to the beat of the latest item-number?

As I waited for my elevator today, I did a small routine to the tune of Desi Girl as memories of last Diwali at school washed over me. I turned on my toes for a pirouette kind-of move and noticed a guy on the stairs, coming down, watching me in a weird way. The elevator doors opened at that exact moment and I scurried inside. I pushed the button for my floor and prayed silently that he wouldn't know which apartment I lived in.

Blank Noise

I yawned for the umpteenth time at work today and immediately checked the computer time stamp. It read 11:01, 07.07.2011. And I wished it was more like 16:20, 07.07.2011. I wanna go home!

Didn't sleep well last night. Stayed up till 12:44 talking to VJ and watched an episode of BONES. All the while hoping that I would get drowsy enough to sleep, but to no avail. By 1:00 I knew that it was going to be one of those nights. I switched off the light, switched on my bedside lamp and shut the laptop. I wasn't going to let the empty house and the confusion in my head get to me. I blame it all on the empty house. My land-lady with whom I share the apartment is on a 10 day road trip across Germany. With Juli, the golden retriever who also shares our apartment. Empty houses give me the creeps. I need people around me.

I willed myself to fall asleep. Sheep counting never worked for me. So I picked at random thoughts from my head and tried to figure out the story behind it. Here goes...

a)

I am not an insomniac. I never was. Nocturnal maybe, but insomniac? No! I was fondly calledKumbhakarni when I was a kid. Yes, I was that kid. There are times when I need complete silence and darkness to sleep. Even a slight sliver of light through the dammed blinds would get me all irritated. Even the sound of Chand or Mridu on the phone outside the room in my PG in Bangalore would make me so restless that I would ask them to please go to the kitchen and talk. And then on some days, I can fall asleep even in the dead center of Forum Mall. Lets just say I have sleep issues and leave it at that.

b)

To make matters worse, I am not at all a morning person. No matter how many hours of snooze time I get, I always feel grumpy in the mornings. My favorite office wallpaper was Garfield in PJ's with the caption: I'd like mornings better if they started later. My colleagues thought it was hilarious. Seriously. Because I was invariably in office by 8 AM. The reason was nothing else but the fact that I hate Bangalore traffic and the transit from Koramangala to Whitefield is no joke. Nothing to do with the fact that I was a model employee or whatever.

c)

But I digress. However, lets go back to that Garfield thought. It's been quite sometime since I even thought of Garfield. And that again brings me back to IKEA. No, not the store. My panda, IKEA. Whom VJ threatened to behead. I don't know why. But yeah, IKEA is (or rather was) my sleep pillow. I had another one in Bangalore which I think I gave to Radz before I left. And that was a real pillow. I mean it was a baby pillow that was gifted to me. My sister gifted me IKEA once I got here. On nights when I can't sleep at all, it's only IKEA that helps. I named him so cause my sister bought it from IKEA and I was too jet-lagged to come up with a name when she thrust him in my arms on the first day. I checked the label and decided to just go with IKEA as she demanded that I name him at that very moment. So yeah, cuddling IKEA was the only solution on most nights when I was sleepless. He was too big to pack for the summer. So I had to leave him behind. I think he is packed away in some box sitting somewhere in a closet in NC state. Before IKEA, my sleep buddy was a Garfield I had at home. And by home I mean Pondichéry. I loved that Garfield! Again a gift from some relative in the US. Orange, big, cuddly and with whiskers! I tried to bring him with me to the US. But somehow Mom would find him and kept throwing him out whenever I tried to sneak him in one of the suitcases. I miss them. All I have here is another normal pillow. Which is no fun, if you ask me. Not cuddly, not furry, not cute, no bright colors and no whiskers :(

I gave up around 1:30 and switched on the laptop again, queued up 10 episodes of F.R.I.E.N.D.S on WMP and set the volume to the lowest possible. The noise soothed me. I was about 15 minutes into "The one with the birthing video" when I started feeling drowsing. I quickly switched sides, grabbed my pillow and woke up at 5:30 in the morning.

When I am creeped out, lonely and over-analyzing stuff in my head I sometimes need a kind of blank noise to soothe me. Be it on my iPod or just plain old TV. While in college when I used to do all-nighters for exams, I used to leave the TV on some channel on low and study. The noise helps. Sometimes. Because the blank noise helps drown out the noise in my head.

Why, God? Why? (Enna koduma ithu, Saravana!)

I saw this today through Gradwolf's Twitter feed and felt like crying.

There are very few Tamil movies that I like. I watch very few movies to begin with, so yes when I come across a good one like Khaakha Khaakha being re-made into this...I feel like crying. Till date the last few good Tamil movies I remember from my college days are Khaakha Khaakha and Dum Dum Dum.

The only solace I feel is knowing that Guatham Menon refused to work on this project. It makes me feel a tad better I guess. But still, John Abraham and Genelia? How could they even think that John Abraham could play that role? I have nothing against him, let me tell you that. I do think he's a little cute and hot and what not. But no, he cannot act if his life depended on it. And definitely NOT this role. Come on! And coming to Genelia? Seriously? I do NOT like Jyothika but in that movie, I did like her for once. She stopped playing a dumb bimbo on the likes of Khushi and for once came across with a good performance in Khaakha Khaakha. Genelia just does not seem right, people! Come on!

I have purposely avoided the mention of the Telugu movie Gharshana here. For two reasons: (a) I've not seen the movie and (b) I don't want those crazed gult people screaming obscenities and threatening me with extremist parochial sentiments for comparing Venkatesh with John Abraham. So I am going to play the decent person here and just keep quiet.

All I can say is this: Why, God? Why? (Enna koduma ithu, Saravana!)

P.S.: On second thought, I have been having very thin readership lately, so maybe I should say something anti-gult to get some comments flowing in....hmmm, do I risk it?

"Life is a roller coaster..

...just gotta ride it."

My iPod played this as I waited an extra 10 mins for my train (delayed, as usual) to Rüsselsheim at Mainz Hbf today...and it got me thinking. Surprised? Don't be...I do think, occasionally.

My life does feel like a roller coaster right now. I feel like I have grown-up so much in the past one year. My biases have been questioned...perceptions have completed changed...and yet I am back to some of the questions that troubled me as a teenager. I feel like I have lived and died and been reborn directly in my 16th year of life. Which by the way was not sweet at all. So yes, I'm not too happy with the fact that I feel like this.

When I was last in Europe I was eligible for a Youth/Student discount in most places because I was under 25. This time around I have been pegged in the "Adult - 26 to 59" category. It hurts. Since when did 26 to 59 become an acceptable category. Shouldn't there be more smaller sub-categories within that?

I digress. So yes, I feel 16 in my head. Confused with all the questions that made me feel lost back then. I made conscious decisions (it's debatable whether they were right or wrong, but they definitely were conscious ones) as I worked my way through 17, 18, 19....all the way to 26. And now with just a little more than a month left to turn 27, I hate it that all the work over the past decade feels useless. Shouldn't I have more answers than questions? I don't mind the questions, believe me. But I just thought that they would be different questions. Not the same ones when I was freaking 16. Ugh.

I am happy with school and my plans for my career once I graduate. I feel relatively surer and safer this time around than I did during my undergrad. So I'm not worried per say about that aspect of my life. It looks promising if I continue with the vague plans I have and act on them diligently. So no, it's not the: what do I do in life question. At least not with respect to my career.

It's those stupid, silly, annoying questions about the bigger picture of life. Family. Friends. Life in general, so to say. Lets start one by one, shall we? And no I am not waiting for you to answer that. Just play along for once, will you?

Family: I'm stumped here. Yes, I have a family. Mom and dad are getting to 60, which is scary in itself. But I can always go "home" to Pondichéry 'cause it will always be home. No where else. Although the small town always made me feel trapped and confined. It still continues to stifle me from time to time. But it still is home. Mostly because of mom, dad and the house I grew up in. Nothing else. If they were, lets say, in Timbucktoo...then I would call that home. So yes, it's more of the people than the place. My sister, she will always be a call away no matter what. A little closer maybe in the coming year. Life is taking its course. And then me. Alone. In Europe. But on paper in the US. Studying. Working. Struggling. But I know of 80 odd other people who are going through the same motions as me. And of course that's just my classmates. There are thousands of other students like me out there which I cannot even begin to count. So yeah, me. Lost. Confused. And dying with questions I can't even begin to formulate in a meaningful sentence in my head. Forget about asking it out loud to the Universe. I can't even ask it in my head.

Friends: The only friends I remember are those from Bangalore. I've kind of blocked and erased all my school and undergrad friends. I think it's something to do with the frustrating small town mentality that I'm trying to run away from. Bangalore feels like a real home sometimes. Where I grew up and 75% of the confused person that I am today is the sum total of my life in Bangalore. I miss my PG and my narrow bed and the small cupboard and the bad food and the traffic and the security of my friends there. Safe that someone will call to check on me on bad days. That someone will open the door for me at 6 AM with a smile when I get back from a weekend trip to home. Making soup and toast with Maggi on rainy weekends. I miss them all. Like a part of me is somewhere else and I don't feel complete. I guess I finally did find friends whom I never want to lose. Which is kind of a first for me. I think I am happy on the "Friends" part of my life. Although, I wish India were closer or flight tickets were cheaper.

Life in general: I just finished reading "Something Borrowed". The book was like reading the script of a Hollywood chick-flick. Which in turn is true cause the movie just released. It felt like a safe read on my flight back from Madrid. I was greatly mistaken though. Although badly criticized and written-off mostly by critics, the book made me feel a little kindred towards Rachel's character. Small town girl, followed the rules of life, made practical choices education and career wise, always had to work hard for everything, nothing came easy to her and shadowed by someone all her life. And of course, confused and lost. I am as confused by her character although I am in the same boat. And then the mistakes she makes. I made a lot of mistakes. Still do. Hoping that someday I will get lucky, maybe?

I feel like I am at a cross-road in life where I can't help but re-visit old memories and question myself over and over and over again on the choices that I made at each turn. Why this? Why that? How could you have been so stupid? How did you ever think this would work out? Or not? I am haunted by those memories and the questions. No wonder I feel like I am 16 again.

I have seen people all the time who have gotten so lucky with their bad decisions. It's like they have a gift or are blessed. Or they just float through life while others decide for them and they still turn out happy and content. I can't for the life of me understand it. I always believed that I should take control of my life. In that way, if I do mess up I will only have me to blame. But I would still have the security that I took the initiative, the risk, the leap of faith whatever. It would feel like I have exercised my right to live. Isn't that better than holding someone else/something else responsible for your good/bad things in life? And then there are the people who make mistakes and get back in the game unscathed leading normal happy lives. How is that fair? I always get punished for my mistakes. I remember a friend telling me this, everything in life comes with a price tag. I always check the price tag. I need to know what I am losing to gain something.

I look back at the conscious decisions that were/are inherently wrong. The only thing that comes to mind is, when will it be my turn to be lucky?

Oh...I want 'everything'!

Situation 1: No breakfast and hungry as hell. The craving for 'everything' begins...I finally give in and go to Jazzman's. Darn it! Only 'cinnamon-raisin'. I still get one. An hour later, I see a classmate have an 'everything' and he too got it at Jazzman's. Aaaargh...how did this happen?

Situation 2: Bagel and Coffee day...no classes but I still go to college. I had to work, don't judge. I go to the grad lounge and the tray of 'everything' is empty. I am heart broken and make peace with a 'blueberry' one. How sad is my life, huh?

Situation 3 (today, not 2 hours ago): The craving starts again and I stop by Capstone's Gibbes Court Bistro on my way to work. They are well known for stocking all kinds of bagels. But no, as fate would have it, they have none today except the healthy 'whole-wheat' ones. And I definitely do NOT want those. I take a coffee and leave.

I am at work now and just realize that we have Einstein Bros Bagels at Russel House. It's 46 degrees outside with 13 mph winds...I am NOT stepping outside. I give up on my 'everything' dream.

Why me?, is all I ask :(