Another World Cup post

Well,its official.I am going to have to watch the finals this time...Sigh....

Father Dearest finishes his chores early,has the ceremonial bath,the ceremonial lunch(so as not to get up during a bowling session or whatever they call it),positions the pedestal fan,the wall fan,sets up biscuits and other snacks on a stool(to satisfy those small hunger pangs),pair of scissors to cut the packets,a bottle of water,mug,paper tissues and the lot exactly one hour before the actual commencement of the match.I go downstairs and was quite alarmed to find the TV area vaguely resembling an operation theater.

The Darling too after one and and a half hour of conversation,abruptly cuts short,looks at the time and suddenly hangs up claiming emergency regulations as it was half past one already while the match was scheduled to start at 2 something.Must be wanting to hear what these full-of-themselves-know-it-alls have to say about the the swivel of the bowling,humidity(as in whether the players and spectators will sweat or not? :S ) somebody's leg injury,somebody's head injury (I believe each and every cricket fan has had a head injury at some point in their lives,no offence) the shape of a grass blade on the pitch,the color of the grass,the roundness of the ball,the hardness of the bat,the thickness of spectator heads,the stupidity of the umpires,the idiocy of the players,etc.

The streets were pretty deserted yesterday.Perfect day for a driving test me assumes.Only if the examiner too ain't a cricket maniac that is.But then if he is,one can easily coax him to just hand over the license so that he could go home and enjoy the match by himself.Ah but then,I already have mine.Sigh.......

Our lectures too were cancelled yesterday with barely 4 days to the actual paper.And me vaguely suspects that it was so because of the match.Well,we would all be able to write about the finger positioning techniques of spinning a ball,the fundamentals of scoring a century,the history and the evolving of the bat or the complex mathematics of the essential space between wickets.Oh joy!

I'm glad that we made it to the semi finals anyway.You should have heard the fire crackers last night.You wouldn't have had to watch the match to know that we won.It's good to know that we are actually good at something.

Nevertheless,I shall be doing some world cup cooking and baking on the day of the finals to entertain the cricket people,namely the parents,The Darling and whoever happened to be in the house, glued,face first on to the TV that day.That way I could make myself useful even if I don't understand the basics of a LBW or what the hell a no-ball means.And you know what,I find myself actually looking forward to it :)

Too much of a dreamer for my own good?

Feeling a bit off-ish today.I sometimes wish my life was simpler.But then,I've always BELIEVED that my life is simple,but it used to be more simple than this.I hate complexities.

I used to have a simple life back then.Back then, the biggest worry in my life was whether or not I will pass a certain test so that Daddy Dearest will get me that fancy flashlight(yes,I've always wanted weird things) that he promised.And the heaviest chore that I had to carry out was cleaning up dog poop(because Mother Dearest was absolutely furious about me bringing stray dogs home and I had to do everything right from bathing,tending to their wounds and cleaning up their poop).I kept out of everybody's way and was easily entertained with a book or a newspaper erected in front of my face,reading the days away.Nobody even knew that I was there.They had to dig me up from among piles of books and paper scribblings at meal times.

I'm a hopeless romantic and I do have pretty idolized definitions of what love should be(guilty as charged) and I want to keep them that way.Love gives hope and spreads warmth in your soul,it should offer you solace,a sort of reassurance when things get tough.It should be unselfish,never proud,arrogant nor egoistic.I've always believed in an all consuming,overwhelming,cant-live-without,cant-breath-without sort of love.I still do and I still cling on to that idea,like a child clings on to it's favorite blanky,as if it's life depended on it.Because that is what I want for myself,that is what I need to live,to feel alive.I have always believed that love is all about loving the good,the bad and also the ugly about the person you love,no matter how silly,how stupid and unreasonable they may act sometimes.That is the sort of love that I've believed in,the kind of love that I hold sacred in my heart to this very day.That is what makes me happy,knowing that I shall always have love to fall back on no matter what it was that crawled up on me.Because the world is a nasty place,downright evil and you need atleast one pure,sacred thing that you cherish above all other things to hold on to.You need something to believe in,something to place your trust on(other than yourself),a sort of a hope,a reason to get up each morning as you go on.If I cannot have that,I'd rather have nothing at all than settle for less.I shall not be any part of contaminating something so pure and sacred(according to my beliefs) And yes,that's how hopelessly romantic I am.

But then I have always been very much comfortable alone.I cherish my moments of solitude(even to this very day) and I'm so very happy when I'm alone.I have grown up alone,managed things all by myself,NEVER depended on anyone or anything to do my things for me,always preferred to sleep alone and mind my own business even as a child of barely six years.According to my parents,I became independent at a very young age,practical,logical,no nonsense.And not at all the type to take bull crap from any living (or soon to be dead) creature(I used to beat up kids who used to create trouble at Kindergarten).Which is why I think Daddy Dearest has such huge faith in me(which I love him so very much for) that I will always make my way through whatever crap life decided to fling at me.But when it comes to love,I guess I'm just a hopeless basket case.

I feel sorry for myself sometimes,for being this naive.I want to kick myself sometimes for being so very hopeless.Of course I should know better,of course it's a materialist,convenience-based society out there and it has absolutely no place for my dreams.But I am a dreamer and I shall always be that.No doubt about it.Or maybe I just need to grow up.Sigh.........

One assignment down (Hail Google!!) one more to go.And I find myself wondering;why do I find it extremely hard to open up the first page of an assignment related book and start to read? Why is it that it is always the first paragraph of the assignment that is the hardest to commence? Sigh..............

Off with her head and out with her intestines.She deserved to die!

A woman gets stabbed to death right behind my bestie's house.People stood and watched her die.Husband ran away with the child without even bothering to make an attempt at saving her from the sneering knife of the angry,drunk man.Nobody did anything,nobody.

People say she deserves to die because she has committed adultery.Did anyone consider the fact that she died because she tried to stop the affair? Yes,it was the man with whom the woman was having an affair that had killed her.So she gets killed for finally realizing her mistake and trying to redeem herself? She gets killed for having a conscience? How is that fair?

People say that it served her right.Why? Because she's a contemptible adulteress.What about the man who killed her,a notorious womanizer AND a murderer.Doesn't he deserve to die too then?But he will walk.He will plead "diminished capacity" to understand one's own actions under the intoxicating effects of alcohol and he will walk.What is the justice there then?Why does she alone deserve to die?Are we human or slowly transforming in to a Taliban state?

What about the husband who ran away instead of staying there protecting his lawfully wedded wife that he vowed to protect and cherish for the rest of his life? Perhaps his vows didn't include protecting her from drunk men with sharp objects chasing after his wife when all she wanted to do was to remain faithful to her her husband.Didn't he promise forgiveness and compassion when he took her? Didn't he promise to provide her shelter,love and care for her as long as they breathed?Maybe death didn't quite make it to the list of objects to shelter and protect her from.Maybe according to his vows,it was ok to run away and save his own precious life while his wife is hacked to death by an angry drunkard.Who knows....

Did anyone consider the fact that she might not have been getting the amount of love,affection and understanding that she deserved from her husband? Did it occur to anyone at all that she might have offered sex to get the kind of love and care that every woman craves for? I have heard many a times that men give love to get sex and women give sex to get love.Why is it that women are meant to suffer in silence under the confines of wedlock even when she is grossly disappointed?And then,how does it become justifiable that the husband who was supposed to offer her the love and protection that she needs,runs away,leaving her alone in mercy of a frenzied drunkard with a knife? As long as we are talking about "deserving to die",doesn't the husband deserve to die to for abandoning his wife in her hour of need?Or is it only the women who deserve to die?

And what becomes of the child? A girl child at that with a hole in her heart.The very people who say that her mother deserved to die,the very people who whispered that she should have at least thought of the child,will one day turn around and say that the daughter will turn out exactly like the mother and will sleep around and sully what is left of her reputation.What about this poor motherless child's future where her own mother shall be stripped naked,raped and stabbed to death over and over again for the rest of her life? What about the child who shall be mentally abused for the rest of her life and maybe perhaps turn out bad anyway since she is anyway accused of the worst? What about her,the hapless child who happily sucks away at her thumb because there is no one to stop her from doing that now,knowing nothing,understanding nothing? What about her?

Does anyone DESERVE to die? Do the people who think that somebody DESERVES to die "deserve" to live for that matter? I shall never get these questions answered.I shall never get used to life.............

Lady Grouchalot goes to the polling station

Today is the national manicure day! The only day in the year(and the only country in the whole wide world)that you could get a manicure for only your teeny-weeny little finger that would remain black and blue for weeks afterwards,only at the cost of one little cross on a piece of paper! And you know what they say about things that come cheap.They always have a hole in them.But in this case,a big purple blotch that looks like a crow just shitted on it (after eating two dozens of purple permanent markers of course)

First things first,to avoid the mishap of bearing a scandalously ugly little finger for the next few weeks,it was crucial to apply two-three coats of clear nail varnish on your poor little finger nail.This done,a politically ignorant,not to mention utterly indifferent Lady Grouchalot heads out to the polling booth armed with her national ID and her voting receipt(in which her name was grossly misspelt.Sigh....) as a result of parental coaxing and threatening.There were people all over the place who would mutter/whisper to themselves numbers and signs as they walked on by other people who had come to vote which confirmed to me the level of insanity in politicians all over again.We however,made sure not to vote for the names and numbers mentioned by these mad people running all over the place (Talking to oneself is a sure-fire sign of insanity no? I mean,we can't let the system be overtaken by the clinically insane,as mad enough as it already is!) Anyway there were two-three people at the entrance itself who would wave at the crowd (displaying various numbers from their fingers as they do so) go out of the way to greet you and smile in such a way that you could actually count the number of teeth in their mouths.One even waved exorbitantly (without showing any numbers this time) as we left the place,with purple fingers and all.Chweet noh? Anaaaaaaawwwwwwww....... :) 

Pity that this will be the last time we see them(Unless of course you had laser spectacles which could see through the blackened windows of their Prados and walls of expensive hotel suites after they come in to power) Sigh.....We shall miss the nice men who wave :(

With these pleasant thoughts,Lady Grouchalot and Mother Dearest had to stand in a queue labelled "ladies" while Father Dearest headed off in another direction which said "Men"( not "gentlemen" heehee...) It's discriminating really,the separation of the sexes at the polling booths. Even though Father Dearest went in a while after us,we saw him voted and ready for departure while we were still having our names called out and stuff.Yes,for the first time in a long time,Lady Grouchalot heard her full name with initials called out loud and to be quite honest,it sounded pretty out of place after years of being called in shortened forms of the original version,pet names and all.

And then came the manicure from hell.I stood there and silently prayed to God to let that menacing looking lady sitting there all smug and armed with the universally dreaded felt pen (which looked more like a lightsaber to me) go easy on me. I saw her assaulting Mother Dearest's poor little finger with gritted teeth and a determined hand and felt fear creeping through the veins and ending up at the back of my neck.Soon it was my turn to get guillotined and let me tell you,as she bid me to place the neck of my poor little finger on the guillotine board and wrenched off the cap of that cursed little,manipulative thing,I was muttering silent prayers of mercy to the election Gods.Vivid,frantic images of a fat,hairy executioner slowly sharpening his ax was constantly flashing in front of my eyes as she pulled the marker out in slow motion and started battering my poor ol little finger.The nail was quite slippery and wouldn't hold the gaudy purple color(thanks to the good ol clear nail varnish,bless its soul) so she charged at the skin area instead and I watched horrified as the felt tip bled out a grotesque purple on to the finger and inundated the innocent pinkish skin with rabid fervor. At last she stopped digging the felt tip in and looked down at her handy work with the smug look of a rapist looking down at his ruined and shattered victim.I really felt for my finger.Poor,poor thing!

Well,there were about four-five symbols on the paper the unsmiling lady next to the purple murderer handed over to me(which reminded me of the exam papers that we received during our school days) Lady Grouchalot (who couldn't care less about any of the signs or politics for that matter) just breezed ahead and placed the all important cross next to the most attractive looking and the most original symbol on the paper(which she found towards the bottom of the paper) She was happy with the choice.It was quite a pretty symbol which she had never seen before :)

The purple misery on the finger nail washed off with the nail polish remover but the stuff on the fleshy part of the finger shows absolutely no sign of parting with the skin.Well,in the end, everybody(including the waving,smiling gentlemen,the purple assassin and the unsmiling exam paper distributing lady went home happily while my poor,innocent little finger,who hasn't done anyone any harm,suffers in purple agony.Sigh....Life is not fair...... :(

Security guard crisis

The Sri Lankan security guard needs to have their job descriptions figured out.I mean,seriously,some of them don't even know whether they are coming or going(let alone standing or sleeping or actually doing the job)

Most of the time they just stand around gazing starry eyed at protruding female rear ends(never mind the kinky security guard fantasies crossing their minds while they do so) as the voluptuous ladies bend down to pick up rice packs,coconuts,baby diapers,etc.Well,I don't really blame the guards because occasionally I myself,being totally and completely straight with no lesbian or bisexual tendencies what-so-ever (none that I've discovered yet anyway) find myself starring at these royally intimidating butts and cleavages that lightly resemble the Grand Canyon, in pure stupefaction (let's face it,some times it's not like you have a CHOICE as they come along and decide to stick their mammoth-sized backsides and boobs in your face as you're busy wrestling with milk cartons and all) Anyways I just don't think that booty and boob starring is an actual part of their job descriptions(yeah,boo-hoo guys)

The life and tales of the security guards at our local Cargills food city are rather fascinating (these ones are particularly messed up) They open and close doors for customers of their choice.A customer might come with shopping bags hanging from mouth,neck,elbow and every limb of his body and the guard will still choose to merely look on without the slightest effort to open the door for him(let alone carry the bags to his car).They issue tokens for customer baggage and look after them(ermmm...isn't it supposed to be the other way round??) and stand there looking pretty in their guard uniforms while customer vehicles horn and honk themselves to sheer deafness(let me tell you,these people are blessed with blissful deafness and the ability to hear only what they choose to hear) reverse in to lamp posts and murder each other over parking spaces( I believe that parking lot management is a local security guard's duty,yes?)

Whereas the local Arpico Super Center security is super helpful.They do an incredible job in parking lot management,security services and the like.Everything is well organized,proof of effective delegation.Even the staff is very friendly and helpful.Bless their souls.

Recently I bore witness to a rather animated photo shoot in front of a certain Bank where a security guard was putting on quite a show,a display of rather curious positions - fire arm to his side,on his head,over his head,sitting-leaning on fire arm-head turned at dramatic angle,hands on hip-chest thrust out(I could almost imagine the flying cape behind him.Super mannnnn!!!) to see his fellow guard capturing these titillating,thought-provoking moments on the camera of his mobile phone(his next FB profile pic you think)Anyways,never mind.Being a security guard is a boring ol job.And when you do get bored eventually,you do weird stuff.Totally understandable.

I just think that the country needs more crooks in the society(and not be sent across the Diyawanna Oya to make laws and run the country) so that security guards can operate effectively withing their job descriptions so that they'l never have to open doors,look after customer luggage or conduct photo sessions to amuse themselves while they wait.Never mind the fact that their FB and Myspace profiles will suffer from loneliness while they are busy playing cops and robbers within their respective instituitions.Better than posing for Super Man anyway noh? :)

Well,I'm eating pineapple(yes it's well past midnight) and blogging.I'm sure it all sounds so exotic and oh-so-luxurious but trust me,it's not.I have two monolithic assignments which sends me off to sleep every time I think of em and I think I blog to avoid work.Oh well....sigh............ :(

My Women's day celebrations

Does spending half the day preparing for a presentation and the other half of the day worrying about it count? I guess not.

Well,that was pretty much it.But I did treat myself to a perfumed bath of course,complete with candles,sandal wood incense(oh I love sandal wood!) beautiful soothing music and all(Never mind the fact that I'l have to scrape the candle wax off the bath ware afterwards)Afternoon spent on the balcony with the usual mug of tea and starring listlessly in to space,followed by a couple of episodes of Sex and the City,Lord of the rings trilogy and inundating the house with Opeth (as it was quite rainy and dark and suited my mood well) afterwards.The Darling being busy with exams these days and barely having time for me (Sigh),it has been pretty much of a man-less day which was just fine.

Would have liked to go out with the girls for a lunch or a dinner out if I had it my way but them too being unduly swamped with the seemingly eternal curse of a monumental pain-in-the-friggin'-ass degree work just like my poor suffering self,that was leagues out of the question.

I believe that The World Women's day should be a holiday for all women.Women's items should be on sale,spa treatments should be offered concessions of 50%(or more) and women should be offered free chocolates,strawberry and champagne everywhere they go.A free gift of cosmetic/perfume of their choice should be offered to every woman and lingerie lines should be issuing special,limited edition lingerie on every women's day (which I think is a brilliant idea as I believe that every woman deserves to feel like a Goddess from inside out) Women drivers should not be given speeding tickets or tickets of any sort and be given way whenever they wanted.Concerts,gigs,theaters,movie theaters that are happening during the day should allow free entrance to women and they should be given the front/best seats in the house too.Book stores should showcase their women writers and their women customers should be allowed mega concessions on their purchases(on books written by men of course) Oh and the impotent creeps who come up with nasty comments, harass women on the roads/buses/public places should be dealt with by the women itself (with or without assistance) with no consequences to their actions by law or anything else (be it whipping,slapping,castrating,public humiliation,dressing him up in a tutu and make up,setting him up on a stage for people to throw rotten eggs at,etc) Same would go for rapists and wife beaters in prison.Punishment day!! Yeeey!! Oooh,oooh and women should be offered promotions at their work places and women students should have their assignment reduced and a guaranteed A+ once a year on World women's day.Ah.....I could go on for ages.

Have I ever stated the fact that I'm quite fond of day dreaming? Sigh.......

Serenity

One of those days that you feel quite at peace with yourself,that you go about the day without expectations from anything or anyone,relying solely on yourself and your capabilities for solace.A day that you feel like you're about to burst with something or the other,over flowing with creativity,yet not really achieving anything extraordinary,but content with what you have managed to put down so far.A day that is satisfying,despite everything else :)

Sometimes,working can give you a sense of contentment that nothing else can offer you.It gives you this sense of confidence that nothing else can because only work can give you that sense of self pride however much we complain of it.

Just one of those days you feel beautiful not because someone else says so or you spend hours and hours in front of the looking glass,satisfying your vanity,but because you feel beautiful within yourself without the aid of a deceiving mirror.A day that you feel beautiful inside and out.A day that you realize that you are a phenomenal woman,just for being what you are.

Society throws all it can at you and you can only expect to learn from it all and cultivate values within yourself that will adorn you for life.Each passing day we learn.We emerge like butterflies out of ugly,suffocating cocoons,only to flutter our wings and fly.Challenges are meant to be taken up,not be depressed over and whine.Like I always say,what doesn't kill you,only makes you stronger.

I believe in karma.I believe that every little good deed you do unto others shall return to you three fold.Same goes for the bad......First hand experience.Regarding the good deeds I mean :)

Just one of those days when you realize that you are more than what you think yourself to be.I wouldn't want to be anyone else in the world other than myself.To be able to feel what I feel,to see what I see,to hear what I hear,to have the kind of people who love me for what I am is truly a blessing.It's just lovely to be me.It's lovely in a serene,sublimely tranquil sort of way.

One of those days that you feel so,very care free that you know whatever happens,things will always be alright.A day when you feel that nothing will ever go wrong for you,because you have always been the best you can be to everyone around you,done your best to help and never done anyone any intentional harm out of spite.It's a good feeling to know that you do not possess any hatred, jealousy or skeletons stored within your closets.If you're completely honest to yourself and really think,it's one of those days that you feel proud of yourself because you have always been the best that you can be,to yourself and to others.

One of those days you feel glad that you are indeed a disciplined soul that is very well capable of resisting temptation,yet a voluptuary who enjoys life to the fullest,never having any regrets to fall back on.One of those days that you are indeed glad that you are capable of drawing pleasure from even the most simplest,most minutest element of life.

Life is amply satisfying if only you let it be :)

Insomniac? Nah!

I should be in bed by now.Unless I want to send a loud snore resonating through the class in the middle of a vivacious debate,for the sole amusement of my fellow colleagues of course.Not regarding the fact that the memory of the class alone itself is quite capable of reeling me off to peaceful slumbers.

I have never been insomniac in my life.In fact,I'm rather well endowed with the blessings of sleep(exception nights of mental turpitude when although sleep is the only thing that drives away unpleasant memories and sadness to that filthy,obscure nook where bad memories go,I just couldn't ge myself to sleep .I'm ruled by my mind you see).All I need to do is open up a word document to type out an assignment or open up a book(within our curriculum) and voila! Off I go drifting to that hallowed land of the blissful oblivion.

But I do like staying awake at night though.And it is completely out of choice.Night is such a beautiful time and it's such a pity that we folk are forced to waste it away sleeping.It is my personal belief that nights are to be lived in and days are to be slept through(which I put in to practice most of the time,which in turn manages to get in to easily irritable parental nerves) Nights like this leaning on the balcony railings,starring in to nothingness and letting your untamed, imaginative mind off the leash while the night wind softly wraps itself around you....bliss.

I guess I shall have to get some Centershocks tomorrow to shock me in to blessed consciousness during class.They always do the trick,tried and tested.

I do wish that friggin' annoying dude who keeps starring from a corner of the class wouldn't show his henpeck mug tomorrow.Can't fall asleep peacefully when I get bored also.That man gives me the creeps.Ugh!

Talking about work,I have two presentations coming up,three colossal assignments to hand over,a looming,blooming thesis and a translation to go with it.Not to mention the pile of reference to read and a growing pile of photocopied notes.God,I hate photocopied notes! Ugh!

Yup so that's my life at the moment,busy as hell and the local underworld put together.And I'm so hoping that life would get better soon.Because this is SO not fun.If the world really does end in 2012,I will have to die knowing that I led a shamefully uneventful life buried under piles of moth-eaten books and dusty papers having accomplished such a heinously insignificant amount of things that I've really wanted to do.Should make a "things to do before I die" list soon.I don't know what happened to my last one.

I feel sleep knocking on my skull and pulling down my eyelids and therefore,I must go in peace in search of the bed.Good morning everyone! It's almost 2.30 AM!

Hair assaults!!! Aaaaaaarrrghhhhhhhhh!!!!

This post is dedicated in memory of all the innocent victims who had suffered formidable attacks of flying,relentless,super-ninja hair that has been oh-so-heartlessly flung at their unsuspecting,unexpecting faces at some point of their lives,nearly blinding them,even killing them in the process.Accept my deepest sympathies oh valiant ones,I totally know how you feel.

I remember a question that The Darling had once regarding hair at a particular point in our lives.Does one die from swallowing/suffocating/breathing in hair? Yes my dear,that is a possibility indeed.One can most definitely die from too much hair in their respiratory systems.Or any system for that matter.

Now,now don't get me wrong,I am a huge fan of hair and I happen to be immensely fond and proud of my own(satisfying my vanity here) which has indeed been greatly admired among peers and the whole lot(ahem) All that said in order to prove to you that I possess no hard feelings nor any sort of hatred towards hair.I just think that one's hair should be kept to one self and not be poked in to other people's faces,butts or any other places for that matter.That is all.

Today was a day when we were supposed to have the all-important three hour lecture on one of the most intricate subjects on our curriculum but was cancelled for the second consecutive week due to[Underline the correct answer]  (a)the lack of lecturers (b)the inefficiency of the university system (c)pure dumb luck (d) the gummy bears invaded the earth (e) All of the above which resulted due to [Underline the correct answer yet again] (a)department policy (b)utter indifference of the university towards its suffering students (c) it rained cats that day (d) Jealousy and power struggle (e) the gummy bears went skinny dipping with the Barbie dolls (f)All of the above...etc.Anyways,the point is because of the cancellation of the lectures,we got the priceless opportunity of witnessing a truly brilliant theater piece by Anton Checkov,an adaptation of "The sea gull" named the "Muhudu lihiniya",an experience which was truly enlightening and exhilarating which was slightly marred by the heat within the hall.How it tackles the universal theme of the irony of human relationships,the utter complexity of it all,is truly prodigious and leaves you pondering for hours after all.I shall stop raving about the drama now but it's been more than a few months since I watched a stage drama.And for a drama buff like me,that's an incredibly long time.

Anyways the point is,the whole experience would have been far more enjoyable if it weren't for the sweltering heat amplified by the unexpected hair assaults that were hauled at us from the front.The well oiled and greasy/dry and crackly pony tails that streamed over the backs of the chairs and poured on to our laps,occasionally whipping/lashing/pricking/tickling us was more than a slight annoyance.My bestie,my fellow comrade in battle,was complaining of not being able to keep her feet on the foot hold in front of her as she was ruthlessly cornered in to utter helplessness by two bunches of cascading hair on either sides of her.Me on the other hand  couldn't keep my hands on my legs as I kept coming up with handfuls of hair which was quite a nasty experience.I mean,who knows when she has had her last bath right? Needless to say,the hair scenario didn't do much for our nerves which were already ablaze with the lecturer crisis and the cremating heat within the hall.At which I decided to do what I do best;grab and yank the hair hard,smile and say sorry.At which the girl made that gecko sound(the typical 'tch' sound that Sri Lankans,specially the female species make when annoyed) barely glanced over her shoulder and looked right on ahead,without even bothering to take her blessed,crackly hair out of harm's way.I was hurt.My technique always works :(

My bestie was grateful that I keep my long hair did up,tied and out of other people's way.Well of course,I do.As narcissistic as it seems,I love my hair enough so as not to let any stranger yank,fondle,pull it off my scalp and tread on it whenever they please.Hell no!

Then we see another moronic female sweeping the streets with her hair as we watched her open mouthed.Honestly,that must have been the longest hair that I've even seen(or the fact that she was rather short  made it sweep the floor as she walked) I wouldn't want to be whipped by THAT hair at any cost.Aaaarghh!

Buses were pretty much crowded as it was the office hours but I still prefer cramming myself in a mass of condensed body forms rather than walking the two-three stops home.Only to be whip-slapped by this rather foul smelling curly little pony tail.Oh no she didn't keep it still.She kept tossing her head about,whirling it like a merry-go-round,rocking back and forth which in turn forced me,whose both hand were occupied in hanging on to the railings trying not to fall,to inhale humongous toxic amounts of her unwashed hair,occasionally forcing dirty hair particles down my throat and through my respiratory system as my face was pressed against her bush of hair as she rocked,swayed and whip-lashed.I was pretty sure that I will be coughing up fur balls when I got home,which to my surprise,didn't happen.Oh joy!

The point is,if you love your hair,you got to keep it protected as in not letting it down in places that you know it's going to be yanked,pulled and messed around with.Chances are,it will protect your neck as well as your hair from disgruntled individuals like myself if gotten out of the wrong side of the bed who is most likely to behead you if it gets on their nerves.That's all then. Nitey nite! :)