The Taste of Freedom

Wednesday, June 29, 2005




muahaha & dats prob wat i luked like after my p6 exam. A gud friend of mine Abraham sent me this pic (unsurprisingly torn from his math book) reflectin his condition furing calculus integeration.

Today is officially the last day of school for da rest of my life. I was probably so high on excitement that by the time my exam had started my nuerons had refused to cooperate & blissfully unbothered about my unability to even interpret what was asked of me to solve. The end of the last exam generated varying reactions from everyone ranging from hype breathless gasps , nuerotic malfunctions for others in general & some like me who were running in circles unable to grasp the maganimity of the event. the girls including me made hypocritical pledges to stay in touch with each other & the usual muah muah...miss u dahlins that is more of a fomality than an actual event.

With the last fullstop on my math paper there went my years of mundane routines, cranky 6am tantrums infront of the bathroom door, wearing that hideous skool uniform, having to pull my hair back, falling asleep during the Business class. No more high school politics, run-ins with disciplinary commitee & the ghee-soaked canteen food that would effectively make me barf at the very smell of it. Oh how much will I miss those daredevil adventures involving me & my friend constructing ambitious plans to run away from school & always failing last minute cos I would chiken out, those math note book pensil diagrams of school maps & gates for escape, secretly exchanging gossip & rumors on paper notes in Math class, the endless lying & excuses to teachers for forgetting assignments, faking illness to bunk tests, in my case I would always make all sort of medical excuses to the nurse just to gt to drink the tasty Brufen Kid's Syrup.
Hmph.......Enough of the sentimental bullshit i have gone mad from excitement ovedose at the end of school. For all those sisterhood pledges & high school oaths, I'm probably really glad i neva have to back to the sadistic hellhole that i just escaped from. *back pat myself*

P.S. as a revenge against my school for all tho torturous years I dug my heels in Sister daniella's favourite flowers, spit gum on some one chair & then happily made my escape.

Posted by Confessions of a Bohemian Barbie at 8:50 AM

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Chronicles of a Professional Procrastinator

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

Addicted to bass, wired to a caffeine drip, hard headed,
anti social female, will try a Prozac dose, will eventually slash veins....
welcome to the chronicles of a professional procrastinator.

Though the above may sound shocking the scenario is not really uncommon pre-mock setting of St. Mary. Especially if you happen to be in the Pure Math class & are unfortunate to have classmates like the Math Mojo Carl Sequeira, what starts as a frenzied state of panic & madness eventually evolves into numb sense in a state of pure blissful karma.... here I sit at the back of my math class.... as it progresses at tortoise speed & among the chants of mechanical jargons...a few multiplications, eigenvectors orthogonal vectors (which reminded me to rescheduled my already delayed dentist appointment)...while Mr murgusen is engrossed in high speed scribbling of limestone chalk sums of black board, with equally panicky classmates scribbling away furiously into their books....I blissfully sigh....n dreamily looked at the ceiling...The sentence on the blackboard says,“1- sec2 = tan2”. …Reads to me something like.... “renew Dubai marine club membership, must start my 500th diet again”

Its not as if I don’t pay attention in class. I have mastered the trick of surviving my math class without terminally damaging my self-esteem. I pretend to look like I understand what’s happening in class, with a few nods .n "ooohs!" & even emulate my friend nilofers victorious smile, every time she manages to get a sum right. However under this studious pretext, I am furiously formulating an ambitious diet on my favorite post it notes. After dozens of late night therapeutic sessions with my best friend on the phone & countless self-help books on positive thinking...I like to think That its ok if I cant get any single sum right in class.... that tomorrow will be a happier day...that millions are dying of lack of food & (sun block) over the world. & That what matters is the beauty of ones heart & not the content of my skull.... Such reassurances don’t last much long, when my name is called out to receive my math test paper. I come face to face with my red ink soaked math test paper. I try to smile bravely at the many eyes that follow me, as I take the long walk back to my desk. I slam my head on the desk. I like to think I have died. Sigh...another math class comes to an end.

2.30 am (night of the Math test)

I’m shuffling through my papers frantically trying to find a life saving key formula.... new faces news symbols.... unfamiliar territory on pg 65 in P5 text book. Some 6 more never-ending exercises to go through before my 8 o clock test. Flashes of my perspective vacations go through my mind.... I gulp down 2 more caffeine concentrated cups of Nescafe trying to numb my senses.... by now my self esteem is in tatters as I'm struggling as I erase my sum for the 25th time.... sobbing, weeping...I resign myself to my inevitable fate...Finally my tired mum snaps.... shoves a panadol syrup in my mouth & puts me to sleep.

8.00 am (D-Day)

I approach my Math class bravely thinking for the first time that I'm prepared for the test. After going through all the trouble of last minute cramming of formulae in my car, several prayer beads & holy chants later. Kareem manages to rally the class into successfully convincing Mr Murugesan to postpone the test. I slam my head on the desk. I like to think I have died.

Posted by Confessions of a Bohemian Barbie at 3:30 PM

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The Banyaan Men

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

Every morning after fajr prayers, I usually go & sit in my balcony to bask in the creeping sun, read the newspaper & have breakfast peacefully, whilst the rest of the house sleeps. The view from my 6th floor balcony is incredibly romantic as dawn breaks & looks over the sleep city as it tries to bustle to life. Becasue I think its a very posh & healthy thing to do, i usually do some breathing excerises or stretch out & lie watching the scenery. But these days what is supoose to be a romantic & poetic scenic start to my day, I fid myself coming face to face with a heaviliy aged,pot bellied ,disgustingly hairy neighbour of mine in the opposite balcony walking round & round his balcony (as part of his exrcise regime) wearing only a loos banyaan & ill fitting boxers. needless to say, I lose any appetite for breakfast after that.

Same thing happens when we go on Fridays to our house in The Springs. i step out into the garage to water the plants or go & sit by the pool only to come face to face with my gora- chuddie & banyaan wearing neighbours on right left & oppsite our house, washing their cars early mornings. Understably all my effort to dress up & look gud , goes to waste & out of embarassment I meekly retreat indoors to hide.

I fail to understand what it is with men & their obsessions with wearing only a banyaan in public. Whether its the building watchman or the highly paid , ferrari driving banker neighbour of ours, they'll only step out in their banyaans. It is understanble if its worn by a dashing 20+ with musclly biceps & a six pack no they heavily bulgy belly types I always happen to see. It doesnt mater how fat their salaries are, or the no. of Armani cut suits, & gold cufflinks, the banyaan is worn with a lot enthusiasm by all men . I asked one of my friends "but why why why?" & he could only meekly blame it on distortion in the evolutuion process or sumthing. Its definetly not the sex appeal value because despite a major female putoff they still risk their integeritys & step out in one early morning. Especially fridays mornings are the worst. pass by Jumeirah & all the banyaan wearing men of dubai, will turn out in numbers on streets of Dubai. I cringe at the very thought that some day my future husband could possibily be among the banyaan loving variety.

Posted by Confessions of a Bohemian Barbie at 8:56 AM

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The Intro

Thursday, June 02, 2005

I shifted my blog from msn spaces to blogger.com partly because any hate mail or stalker love letters influenced by any of my posts are not directed to my inbox n partly because my previous blog wz such an indulgence of pink dat it embarrassed n scared away any guys who'd read it. Thus began a male boycott of my blog because they were too cowardly to be seen loading my pinky blog on der screen, n to cut a long story short, sadly, I was pressurized into shifting my blog here.

The other reason wz it would allow my to explorer the unchartered depths of my creativity (yes literally...depths, untouched, unexplored yet to be discovered pits ravines n fertile acres of my potential).... phew dat wz a long sentence...now like I was saying yea so…dis blog is going to have a lot of personal touches n by dat I dont mean the dreary bland colors of my template dat hopefully wit DSL facilities at my uni will be updated wit a splash of a brand new flashy girly makeover...(which hopefully duznt scare away da boys)

Yes I know der r barely any blogging links displayed, yes I haven’t showed off my links to any blog rings I maybe a member of, yes der r no rip off's from Fight Club, words of wisdom from Bridget Jones, n sadistic quotes by Kurt Cobain to decor my side bar.... but the amazing substance is out here n if I manage to make u laugh (or even eat) your heart out.... den my job is done.... so hog while u can... n enjoy da ride.

Cheers

Posted by Confessions of a Bohemian Barbie at 9:34 PM

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