December

What is it about december that makes me behave like a loonatic? I have no idea. December is a great month. Why? Because if your year was spectacular, you can look back on it in sappy, emotional hope that the next will follow suit. (Hey, one CAN hope). If it was crap, you can hope that the next year will be better. The ending and the beginning. Whatever you want it to be. Besides, christmas is always associated with two very important things: sweet stuff and acceptable weight gain. Somehow.

Where I live, there's no snow, no over-the-top christmas celebration and no thanksgiving shopping season. I know, what is the world without these things?! But there's still the 'jolly'. You can choose to believe me when I say that the best kind of christmas is either:

1) One where you have NO idea where your next christmas is going to be.
2) One where you know EXACTLY where your next christmas is going to be.

In other news, things have been looking up a lot this year, so that's been good. I've a decent amount of stuff to look forward to. As always, i've only two resolutions for all the impending new-ness: losing weight and cribbing less. Really, with these two sorted I think I'm well on the way to slowly becoming a perfect person! *Sheesh. I think I need to add modesty somewhere.*

Happy holidays!

There are only two conclusions I've made recently- either I'm weird, or people are confused. I think it's the former, really. Many people say I'm one of the most mature people they've ever met. Apparently they can hear maturity in my voice. *Thank you for that:)*. Many people who know me well say I'm a child inside and outside and in every bit of my voice and I'll never grow up.
I'll admit, I'm petrified that they could be right.

See, I love being a baby. Thinking about the future, about what I want to do or be was always reserved for my wildest dreams, my ambitious spurts, my If only. I thought about it all the time. I dreamt about things all the time.
But I never imagined them happening and I probably never really worked for them.

I'll say that this year has changed me in ways that I can't understand and kept me the same in ways I'm surprised about. For one, I've been subjected to experiences that really got me introspecting beyond what I wanted to do next month or what I felt like eating that day. I can't really elaborate. :P. For another, people around me have unexpectedly played a scarily huge role in promoting me to first standard mentally, I suppose.

Thank you, mom and dad, for scaring me into taking baby...no...giant steps towards doing something I've always wanted to do. Thank you, poky for dealing with me when I was shit-scared. Thank you, Pma and Bgu for not questioning my ridiculous childish behaviour once in a while.Thank you, AnA for the sweets and eye-cream. :) Thank you, so many other people that this list is too long, for not hating the fact that I'm probably changing.

Thank you, MallShop for practically holding my hand and teaching me how to walk in this matter. And dealing with my cranky crybaby wails when I have to face the fact that I've to first get up in order to walk. Thank you for making me feel like you'll continue to hold that bicycle when I learn how to balance even though I won't need it. Thank you for being a good baby-sitter.:)

You know what they say, children and dogs are incredibly loyal.

We spend most of our lives either hating change or desperately wanting it. I'd always been extremely averse to change until I realised that the good kind of change was happening to a lot of people around me. Then I became obsessed with change. I wanted it, scouted it, so badly wanted those good change event-type things to happen to my life.

Now I'm growing up and I realise that sometimes I don't get to decide. It was never really about whether I wanted change or not.

It's about whether I need change. And how I deal with it when it comes.
*wise grin*

New, re-vamped and

moved.

We've moved! You may not have noticed, but I'm now @ doodlescrawl.com. That's right. Blogspot has and still is a great host, but there's something about having your own .com that makes you happy and thrilled and want to write a blog post again, even if writer's block (no, it is NOT an excuse) is killing you when you can't afford to let it. I never thought i'd have my own .com. So, doodlescrawl.com is pretty cool. Expect a lot of blog re-vamping in the near future. I say near future because I genuinely cannot put a date to anything anymore.

I feel like this is going to be a meeting-post. You know, like a meeting agenda. Wow, I sure have grown up. But really, it could be a nice value-add. DID I just type "value-add"? Ho, hum. We're grown up already. Going along with the meeting post babble, recognitions are in order. Courtesy pagalboy, this blog is going to have much more re-vamping, and it already has. *applause*. I would also like to thank monster for fixing up this comp, it has been a treacherous few years. And rat, who kept it going for almost four years so far. :)

Announcements are also in order - I suppose, to maintain anonymity (the restrictions I place on myself! Not fun) I shall just say that things are and have picked up. Lots to do over the next few months, it shall all be very eventful, i'm assuming. It's going to be a nice long trek, and hopefully the weather will be good most of the way the the view from the top will be beyond worth it.

Also, feedback. None of my friends are blogging anymore. Does this mean work has consumed everyone's lives? Does this mean blogging isn't permanent? I'm experiencing major not-being-able-to-read-regular-post syndrome. The temporary cure is to finding new blogs to read, but in all truth those are just rebounds. *wink*

For the occasion

There's a dress or an item for every occasion, I've heard. Some people don't necessarily go by these formalities, like me, but some, apparently, do. There's a dress for every first interview. The "What a killer-impression" outfit. A dress for every first date. An outfit for "Let's impress the parents". Specific shoes for a breal-up. A wine for different dinners, something for the home or home-made food for a house-warming. Some things even have different meanings in different cultures, like flowers for a wedding and for a funeral.

To be honest, I'm not really a flower person. They look prettier in bushes and pots and whatever else they grow in, really, even though I have, on occasion, thought that flowers wrapped in paper and injected with fake blue ink (those orchids you get in every road corner in bangalore, sometimes) were nice looking, but overall, I'm a more "useful-meaningful-this reminds me of something" gift person. I have liked two flowers though- Lilies and Gerberas. I had to google that to even know what that's spelt like.



Sometimes, you change. If someone had told me this much would change in 2010, I'd have laughed at them six months ago. But, life can creep up on you and tickle you and make you jump, even. Suddenly you're making decisions you couldn't even dream of making. Suddenly lilies start looking prettier. Suddenly you buy items for no occasion that don't go with anything, because you've dreamt up occasions in your own head. Suddenly you're happy when you thought you wouldn't be, sad when you shouldn't. Suddenly you have crazy conversations with friends about growing up and ruin it all with some really bad joke about some boy and a girl, like always.

Suddenly you write a blog post that makes no sense to anyone, simply because it's an account of how things are changing, things can change. Random as they may be. Suddenly you're wondering if you're dressed right for an occasion, acting right, doing the right things. Yeah. We all sail on the same ship, only to find pirates one time or another.
Only to realise that what we've heard could be right all along.

What you know, I now know

Probably the most impulsive post I'm ever going to post.
But, a realization that everyone's already been through.
When you like doing something,
You'll do it.
No matter what.
Even if you don't have full ownership, even if you don't have time, even if you don't have money or contacts or full reasons or support or a guarantee or whatever- regardless, in some small way, you'll do it. In your own teeny way that makes you happy.
Question: Does how much you like it go away when you do it full-time? Do you get tired of it? Or does it grow and consume you with how much you love it?

Only doing what you love, will tell.

For some people, there comes a day when they can't wait to get out of bed. When sleep evades them, when their blood is too busy boiling and gushing, when they'd rather not sleep. When they feel like they just ran a mile in the wind and then showered in a spring somewhere and STILL have enough energy to go on one more walk, because they simply must. Because they just feel like it, because they want to. Nothing wrong matters, everything can be fixed, everything's ok, everything's either a lesson learnt or a lesson in the making, because somewhere, somehow, their minds are at the peaceful gates of satisfaction with everything that's gone wrong, everything they've learnt, everything they've put right because they realise they have the power to do so, and everything they're going to do right and love from now on.

It swells, and it's swell, and it's called Passion for Living. I know I have it somewhere inside me, and I can't wait for it to spring out one day, and run many miles and take you with me.