Rain

It's raining - I wish the sun would come out.

I hate how the rain automatically makes you feel gloomy - even if you've just woken  up and went to bed happy. 

Bah - this day's going to suck.

Freakish

Everyone says that the transition from high school to university is one of the most difficult periods of one's life. Now, I'm not saying that my transition wasn't difficult - I was quite lost going from a high school grad class of 19 to an economics 101 class of 375, but in the entire scheme of things, it wasn't that hard. I was lost in a spacial sort of way - not in the 'now-go-and-find-who-you-are' way.

As my years at university progressed, I became increasingly involved (to the point where I was doing more extracurricular activities than school work - not smart, especially when you start having 2 all-nighters in a week) and increasingly confident of my space in my massive university. No longer do I feel like a small segment of the university, rather, I know where I fit in.

But things have changed - I feel lost these days, absolutely freaked out about life post-university. The transition from high school to university was easy because I was going from one academic setting to another. I have a year left until I graduate (my 5th year at this university), am starting my GRE prep course in a couple of weeks, and will be submitting my first graduate school applications in the next few months. I know I could get into almost any university in this wonderful country of mine - I have the grades and the CV - but I want to go to another country, to a university that is one of the top, if not the top, in the world (in my field). It has exactly the program that I want, along with another a couple hours from it.

The problem is, I'm skeptical about my chances at getting into these two universities, and I refuse to apply to any others. I know I could get in after a few years of work, but I don't want to work. I'm a nerd; I love learning - and I want to keep on going to school. I'm freaked out because I have no idea what I'd do if I don't get into either of these graduate schools. This didn't happen at the end of high school - I was confident - completely confident about my chances. And now...

To Be Born Again...yes..that again...

Narcissism Of The Healthy Kind

Sometimes, I find myself fascinating. Yes, it does sound 'oh-so-very-narcissistic', but I can't help wonder at times how I thought about, or even came up with, specific thoughts, or sentence structures (grammar-nerd alert!). I'm one of those types that reads her own blog. Some find it weird; I find it a healthy reminder of my views over the past few years. To be quite honest, I've forgotten about many of the posts I've put on Selfistan, and so, re-reading RFS gives me insight into those which I've forgotten about. Further, it lets me figure out what I haven't written about.

As a polisci kid, one who loves analysis and detailing to death, looking at what I've written and what I haven't written not only amuses me and provides a way to spend the wee hours of the morning, it provides insight into my very own character, and perhaps more importantly (if anything can be more important than that, of course)...and now I've forgotten what was more important - oh the horror of receiving email notifications of photo-tagging notifications.

Way to break my chain of thought - that's it for now. Sleep time

More Salman...

Back again - where have I been for the past week? Where I always am...I've had quite a few ideas for posts - you know that feeling - where you walk down the street, think of something, go 'hey! this would be a great post on Selfistan', continue walking down the street happily thinking of all the wonderful things you could write, get back home, and forget what it was.

Now - I think, in a previous post (no idea which one), I said that I'd carry around a small notebook and write down potential selfistan post ideas on it. I've been carrying around my trusty iPhone and a notebook, but haven't written anything down. But - not to worry, I actually have a subject for this post.

Guess what it is?

Salman Rushdie - again. *Big Smile*

So Sir Rushdie, or Salman as I like to call him, won the Best of the Bookers a couple days ago for Midnight's Children. Now, if you remember, a couple years ago - maybe a decade ago - the same book won the Booker of the Bookers prize, and before that, in the year that i came out, it won the Booker. 

As much as I love Midnight's Children (and trust me - it's definitely in my top 5 books list) and as happy I am that it won yet another Booker-related prize, it irks me that it's the only book of his that has won so many awards. Seriously - it's not his best book (at least I don't think so). It's brilliantly written and the story and everything in it makes you go 'wow' when you read it (if you know your Indian history, you're constantly astounded by the depth and the phenomenality [is that a word?] of the book).

This post is an entreaty of sorts - to all those out there - to read his other books, and to appreciate them (not that they haven't been appreciated, but do you sort of get what I mean). My favourite ones of his - in order of preference are....

*drum roll please*

1. Satanic Verses

2. Midnight's Children

3. Step Across This Line (non-fiction)

4. Shame

5. Shalimar the Clown 

5. Enchantress of Florence

(if you think I can't count - rest assured - I can -- Shalimar and Florence are tied for fifth) 

F ***

sometimes - there are things that i just don't understand - as much as i try, they just don't make any sense - and it's so hard

and if you know me - well or barely - you'll know how much i hate not being able to understand things

now imagine things that are so hard to understand that they hurt

not fun

sometimes - to be born again first you must die - seems too simple

Why I Feel Sorry for George W. Bush

Don't get me wrong - please.
I don't like the guy, nor his policies, but I do feel sorry for him - on a humane level.
Now many will argue he doesn't deserve to be treated on a humane level, but I think everyone can be, regardless of their views or deeds.

The poor guy - he's hated by millions, if not billions of people world wide. Even after he leaves the Presidency, he'll be hated. And he'll go down in history as someone who made extremely bad decisions, and be hated by generations to come.

Imagine the feeling - not being able to go anywhere without people jeering at and insulting you. And not only him - his kids, his entire family - and everyone in his family still to come. Imagine the stress that comes with that, the enormous weight of it all, and the feeling that there's nothing you can do to change that.

Cracking a Watermelon Open With Your Bare Hands...

It was a beautiful day yesterday - finally - a nice reprieve from Juneuary and its horribleness. So a friend and I decided to go down to the beach for a dinner-picnic (dinnic? picner? - both sound weird). Anyways, I got home in the early evening, changed into my sweats and flipflops, grabbed a water bottle and one of those beach-mats (the ones made from what look like reeds - popular in Mombasa, that's all I know). She picked me up and we drove to the organic food market (awesome place - expensive with my student budget but totally worth it). We picked up some olive bread (so yummy!) some basil goats cheese from THE island and a mini-watermelon.

We got to the beach - one of those small ones on the way to the ferry terminal that barely anyone knows about - and sat down on the sand. The tide was coming in so we made sure we were above the driftwood line - so we wouldn't get wet. It was by far the best dinner I've had in a while. We started off with the bread and the cheese - which I ate too much of (got mad at myself too because I can't exercise it off right now - read the previous post if you don't know why).

Then we decided it was time to eat the watermelon - only problem was that we didnt have a knife. So she placed it on a log, we found a sharp-ish stone, and started making holes in the watermelon. After two such holes, she was able to rip it in half and we both dug in. Honestly, there's nothing like sitting on a beach, watching the water and the sunset and the dogs and getting your face covered in watermelon juice (we didn't bring spoons either). It was amazing.

It was hard getting to the fruit at the bottom, so I ripped my half into smaller pieces - so much fun - and ate/drank it. By the end, all we had left was the rind - it was completely white, no sign of watermelon anywhere!

Then we went for ice-cream...mmmm...straciatella - the best flavour ever!

Pictures once I manage to upload them from my phone