Guilty of neglect

I realize the primary reason of starting this blog was to have a record of what was going on with me. In that respect, I have had a major failure. My time in the US and specially New York is glaring in its absence. A look at past posts reveals they were written while on a 'break' in India. Mostly I have been too tired to summon up coherent thoughts. Many times I have been lazy. A couple of times I even managed to log in and get started before I was distracted by random browsing (I started on some blogs I follow, fully intending to do serious reading to get into the writing mode but somehow found myself on a page with cool accessories, checking for shipping to the US!) I guilt-ed myself enough to attempt writing during subway trips. It was a really desperate attempt, I admit. Thinking about a post while jostling and vying for seats and constantly cursing the G, is almost impossible. On a particularly long trip, I emerged after two shining sentences to find I had missed my stop. So totally not worth it.

Fixing on what I want to write about is also a hindrance. Mostly, the urge to write seizes me when I am mad about something. Anger is the most effective trigger. But prudence makes me hold off till I am calmer and more balanced. Happier occasions have me channeling my inner  Sri Sri (Ravi Shanker!) and trying to live in the moment. It is easier to post an update on FaceBook than to write a blog post! And so it happens that the 'drafts' in my folder are fast approaching the number of posts so far...

I admire the other bloggers I read, most of them mothers and/or career woman. It must require supreme effort/time management on their part to get in a monthly post. More shame on me...So, on this sunny almost-Fall Saturday, when I could have been snoozing in the sunny patch on my bed, I am instead, typing away on the laptop. And I am not pausing to look for a subject nor lethargy to creep up on me. Here I come!

Coffee break

Overheard.
Two little boys waiting for their mum/s at the salon lounge. Presumably getting a facial or something.
1st boy: (fidgeting and jumping up and down from his seat aimlessly a few times): I think that time goes by slower if you have nothing to do.
2nd boy: No response. After a long minute: No, I don't agree. I think time goes by the same whether you have something to do or not.

LOL. Cuteness! 

Moral of the story...

I am inherently confrontational and bad-tempered. But this has since been borne upon me and I have spent most of my adult life being diplomatic and, well, adult. I have had cause to practice this even more since I got married. Not with my husband, (sadly for him - he always hears more truth than he wants to, the poor dear) but with the extended family. Skirting topics is the polite (and accepted) way of dealing with issues. Today for a change, I decided to respond to some festering and unfair complaining with some of my own. While my popularity has nose-dived, it has definitely opened some eyes to a contrary point-of-view, something that the self-absorbed don't usually bargain for.

If you have any grievances, air them. Lest people think you have none.

Recap

I have been away for a really long while. In the good ol' days, I aimed (and succeeded) in getting at-least a post out every month. When that began to seem like too much of a commitment, I placated my blogger conscience by writing whenever inspiration struck! Then came a phase when morale really flagged owing to viewer stats (what's the point of blogging if no one is reading?!) Then there were phases when I was genuinely too busy and some more when I was just too lethargic. Meanwhile, life was happening. I recently dug up the blog and read the last few posts. I realized that so much of what I'd have liked to share was missing. I missed blogging about my 'big, Indian wedding'. I found no mention of the big move I had to make-first to the US of A, then to the Big A!. My travails and masti at Pratt, then finally Graduation, then the angst of the unemployed, fresh graduate...so much to say...

I don't lead a terribly exciting life but I have my moments of clarity, insights, growing up(!); moments of bliss and serenity and sometimes even anger, that are defining; the times when I feel most alive. I'd like to look  back a few years down the line and not see time in a blur. I'd like to be able to locate a moment in the past and remember exactly how I felt about something. For some reason, it seems important to me.

Hopefully, this blog revival will see more posts and less recaps! Amen!

Profile of a jerk

A disturbing update faced me as I logged onto Facebook for my hourly fix(!) last evening. A classmate from grad school who did his undergrad from Penn State and who is my grouse companion about the job scene here, posted this response to his follow-up mail on a job application: "Pedophile Penn State? I really don't think so." !!!

My first reaction (and most reactions, going from the comments on his wall) was 'WTF??!' Are you kidding me? What sort of a person can honestly think it a reason for rejecting a candidate? It's juvenile and pointlessly insulting. After mulling over it for a while, I noticed other disturbing aspects to this response. On the surface, it seems like a crass case of generalization; some jerk shooting off his mouth. But consider this: the guy leads a top NYC architecture firm and is a Harvard alumni - the cream of the crop, so to speak. He appears confident he'll get away with it too (airing views over an email where a simple 'forward' or 'tweet' can do much damage.) Confident that a low blow at a struggling grad will not hurt him. As long as he holds the promise of employment, he is untouchable by the wrath of the young architecture community. While I hope my friend does something more about it than just a nasty email back, I am more convinced in my belief that in many cases, education is a superficial condition. It is not always an enhancement of the mind, as one expects it to be. Prejudices run deeper.

I miss my grandparents. What wouldn't I give for just one conversation with them. Let them know what I am doing, who I married, where I lived, if I was happy...Just general stuff loved ones want to hear about. M's grandparents are visiting - the cause for this renewed sense of loss. At times like this I want to believe in the the concept of heaven and your loved ones watching over you.

Excerpts from my week in San Fran - 2

May 26th:

Just back from a really 'fresh' breakfast at La Boulange. (yes, they have branches in the downtown area too!) Although I was initially a little irritated that the hotel (Palace Hotel - we moved yesterday!) didn't have a coffee machine in the room (it's such a basic thing!), I was ultimately glad to get out and enjoy the morning sunshine.

Yesterday was slow compared to the previous days - M wasn't feeling too well and we also took some time shifting hotels. I found Palace Hotel to be a truly beautiful, historic building. It has a way of transporting you back in time - especially as you walk past lit chandeliers and gilded decor and listen to Mozart playing in the lobby at 8.00 in the morning! The attention to detail is amazing. (note to self: must have tea in the large ballroom under the glass dome. The guidebook wasn't overstating it when it described it as the 'most beautiful room in California'. After dragging the reluctant husband to lunch at Tulan for some Vietnamese, I ventured out to SF MoMa. Discovered an artist I hadn't heard of - Clifford Stills, who makes Rothko look like an amateur. The highlight of the place though, is Mario Botta's light shaft. While not very graceful from the exterior, it works really well for the atrium, bathing the interiors in a silver halo. A quick stop at the museum store for my usual picks of postcards and it was time to head out for the evening meal.

M was feeling better after a nap and felt enthused about trying out a pizza place we had heard about nearby. While the pizza disappointed (I guess we just got too adventurous with the toppings), the drinks at a place next door didn't. 'Cucumbita' (self explanatory!) for me and crispy fried asparagus and corn on the cob on the side...yummilicious!

The beautiful 'antique' Palace Hotel.

Cheap but flavourful - Tulan.

Clifford Stills at the SF Museum of Modern Art. 

Walking under Mario Botta's light shaft, through a connecting bridge into the art galleries - SF MoMa

The Palace Hotel Ballroom where we did eventually have breakfast. Above - A closer look at the beautiful glass ceiling.