23.

With time, her trips back home became shorter. Just like her hair, her clothes and her temper.

22.

There lay the book, almost pristine, like it had never been read. Even though it had, and more than once too. "Like new" was the phrase someone would use. The only sign that the book had been touched was the faint imprint of writing on the cover. Impressions left behind when someone had used the book to back the piece of paper they were writing on. Visible only when the light hit it... just so. Upon closer inspection, you could see that it was a list.

"Milk
Bread
Eggs
Cheese"

was all it said. In the clear, precise handwriting of someone who, as a child, had been told to "write neatly, legibly, and beautifully" and had never grown out of it even as an adult. This book had not only belonged to someone, it had been part of their life. Even if for the few fleeting moments one needed to pen down a bare bones grocery list. Milk. Bread. Eggs. Cheese.

21. (And now! For something from the archives)

By which I mean "here is something I found written on a piece of paper as I was cleaning my room".

--

Today has been one of those days. Days that make me happy just because. Just to...be.

Ok, so there are those hundred people loved my cookies, the reaffirmation that I'm more than just a student, the fabulous weather and the fact that I now have a free evening to turn up the radio and lounge in a giant chair by the window - yes, they do contribute to this feeling of content. But still. Happy. And. I'm looking at an evening of cold beverages and warm special dinner.

Used to be, that days like these, rare that they were, made me long for someone (or some manys) to share them with. To complete them, in a way. And that took a little bit away from the joys. But not today. Even after I sent someone a text telling them I wished they were here. Especially after that.

Tonight is for me. For me to realize that sometimes, another person is simply another constraint. What if the other person had had a bad day? Wanted to watch a movie instead of listen to IR and ARR? Not care for fresh, handmade pasta? Any and all of those things would take something away from this feeling of peace. Tonight is for me to cherish my solace.

Tonight is for me to acknowledge that I am a selfish and anti social weirdo.  (also known as normal, like everyone else)

20.5

Time to resume this again, yes?

Re-write?

Ok.

20. vodka. and another white boy.

Nearly two years ago, I had mentioned how dating a whiteboy was much like drinking vodka and now I'm in the same situation again. Except, this fellow is no soldier. And also I told him about how he was like vodka. But this time, this fellow wanted to know more about the things that I knew he wouldn't get. And one thing led to another, and before we knew it, I was explaining "usupethi usupethiye.." to him.

I did not get the reaction I expected. Instead I got this: "That's hot! If you said that during sexy times, I'd totally believe you were into it"

And there, pasangala, is the silver lining. I have been known to blurt out inappropriate things at inopportune moments which fully have the potential to make things awkward, but now, as long as it is not in inglis, I can rest assured that no tension is being broken.

The fellow still can't sing a vijay paatu, but until I find one of you who will, I will respond to some Beatles with a sultry "vada poche"