Meetings...blah!!! who needs them

I hate all kinds of work meetings: status meetings, company meetings, team meetings and last but not the least call-in meetings. Here is why:
Every meeting invites a person who loves to talk. This person loves to state the obvious and explain things that are painfully simple and common sense. In other words he is extremely self important and believes that all other employees are a bunch of idiots. Annoying to say the least.And while this self-adulatory dumb-ass is droning on and on about how we should email the project numbers to only the important managers for the thirteenth time, I am trying so hard to stay awake and not fall off the chair. I am a border-line insomniac and barely have 4 hour sleep each night and unless I am constantly doing something, I get phenomenally drowsy. In meetings, this problem seems to become even more pronounced, no thanks to the dumb-ass.To keep myself from falling of the chair, I habitually doodle, a lot. I have been doing this since 12th grade. Once, my project manager actually caught hold of my notepad and burst out laughing since it had my and my significant other's name scribbled all over the page encircled with daisies and triangles. Trust me I am never that in love, but my mind is empty and it has to doodle. Needless to say this incident was highly embarrassing and now during meetings along with the fight to stay awake I also need to focus on not doodling.I also doodle when deep in thought.Doodling and sleepiness can make people think I am not interested in the meeting. This may be true but they don't have to know this. So now I have to do the occasional nodding and note-taking. This problem leads to two more problems:Since I have been caught nodding at things I should not be nodding at quite a few times, I now have to actually make an effort to listen to the conversation. Ughhh how boring is that.
Note-taking is so over-rated in meetings so much so that managers seem to think that it helps them distinguish between the good and the bad employees. My problem is that although my ear/brain-registering combination is pretty good but add in the third loop of note-taking to the process and I fall apart. I retain so much more when just listening, but force me into taking notes and all meeting-related details get fuzzy. Nothing in brain, nothing on paper (minus doodles).This leads me to look bad as compared to employees who send meeting agendas pre-meeting and MOM 10 mins post-meeting. I hate show-offs.On top of this, during the meeting I constantly feel the pressure to participate and speak up . I know one should only say something which is worth for others to hear, but what if the whole meeting passes by and you have nothing intelligent to say. I don't want people (read my manager) to think I wasn't into the meeting. Should I , at this stage, take after the compulsive-self important-talker and start reiterating everything said in the meeting. Usually I resist the urge to just participate for the heck of, which is a struggle in itself. This urge to speak up triples during call-in meetings for obvious reasons. I don't want people to think that they were on mute while i was busy chatting or surfing the net.So by now, I am trying to stay awake, look interested, not doodle, stay on my chair, listen to the conversation, nod, take coherent notes and try to think of something intelligent to say while struggling to keep my mouth shut until I do. Sounds exhausting doesn't it? Well I am...exhausted that is. And I would not mind it one bit if I was never invited to a meeting again ever ( not at the expense of being jobless/homeless of course).

The End or The End??

Wowwww what a night. I remember walking in the room and switching on my computer to pay the electricity bill, but nothing after that. True it has been a long day and I couldn't get out of work until 7:00 (I am more of a 9 to 5 person, so this is extreme) but it was not so brutal as to instigate a blackout. That too a 12-hr blackout.
My cell phone rang several times, I got cold and hot intermittently (that's normal but I usually wake up), I passed the 24 hrs mark with no food ( I have been fasting), but I slept through it all. I did gain some semblance of consciousness when I answered a phone call and had a barely coherent conversation with a friend. It was then that I realised I still had my shoes on along with my work clothes and the sharp thing sticking in my side was my company ID card . I sleep-walked through the clothes changing and teeth -brushing and quickly slipped back into my coma-like condition. Hmmmmm.
I know plenty of people who regularly sleep long hours. People who love to sleep and consider it a hobby. My sister for instance would have won the gold in sleep Olympics, if they ever had one. She would spend the first one week post exams in a death-like state, only waking for natural needs. Of course all that has changed post kids, and now she reminisce about her long, peaceful sleep like an old passionate fling, with sighs and all :).
The point is a 12 hours blackout (without alcohol) maybe normal for a lot of people but for a border-line insomniac like me, it is cause for celebration or perhaps concern. Either my days of long wakeful nights are over or I just had a mental breakdown due to sleep-deprivation and exhaustion.
Well I do feel sleepy again so that is a good sign or maybe its a bad sign. Maybe its the end of insomnia or its the end of me. See!!! sleep does not agree with me. A person with 12 hrs of rest under his belt would be so alert and ummm I guess...rested.
I guess this incident was not that blog worthy, but I was just so excited about it what with this being the longest I have slept in months. Man I need a life. The most exciting thing in months...I slept for 12 hrs? Oh man!!! This is the end isn't it?

I wish...

It has never been about religion...it has always been about politics, wealth and control. Religion has always been used to manipulate the faithful, to control the weak and to gain power. This is why fear is instilled in people and people are brain washed to do heinous acts like this.
Religion is what has brought the most destruction in this world. The greatest of atrocities have been committed in the name of religion. Does that mean the religion itself is bad? Are the people following it, evil? Not at all!! Their only flaw: religion makes them emotional, and their blind faith makes them gullible.
Every religion talks about peace, love, tolerance and balance. All prophets were advanced souls who brought light to the people. The weak and the poor followed them to find peace in their hearts and reason in their suffering. The religion gave them hope, peace and freedom but it also gave the rich an opportunity to control them, in the name of God. This is the history of mankind. Greed has always marred faith.
Today someone is using the Muslims to do their dirty work for them (has been for close to 25 years). Why Muslims? Because they are frustrated, weak, emotional, poor and illiterate and they still believe in God and hence can be brainwashed. But why the brain wash? So they can look like the enemy. But why them? They are not united, their leaders are greedy and don't care about them and their land covers the most oil reserves of the world.
I wish we were an island in the south pacific. No one would care about us enough to bomb us. I wish we did not border Afghanistan, Iran and china. I wish we had no natural resources, I wish the Kings of the world had no vested interest in our land.
I wish God would come down and settle all this once and for all.

Disclaimer: This is exclusively my opinion. I am in no way trying to make a political or religious statement. If anything, it is the most non-political and non-religious I can be. I am sorry if my words attack the reader's religious or political beliefs.

The land of the...not so pure:(

Have we reached the lowest point in our history. Perhaps, not!! Every time we reach a new low we think that it can not get any worse than this, but soon things sink south some more. I feel violated for the land of the pure. It feels as if a prostitute is being married to a certified rapist. What is left to loot and plunder? I have mentally disassociated myself with the rest of the world, specially home, as if a part of my body was in constant pain and I numbed it with a nerve block. But some things just hurt so much that you have no choice but to take notice.
But who am I to complain. I feel I lost my right to comment on this issue the day I boarded that Cathay Pacific flight not too long ago.

Shhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!

I can never understand how some people can be so loud... at work!! I mean seriously. Do they think they are the only ones working or do they think that the rest of the employees who are unfortunate enough to be sitting within close vicinity of their cubicles, have nothing better to do than to listen to what kind of new words baby Candice has learnt, or what time the maid is supposed to come and clean the house or where hubby Tony is taking them for their anniversary. Ughhh!!! Are you kidding me??

Of course there is a cause for this latest tirade: a miniature sized Blondie (she still shops for shoes in the Juniors department, I discovered one loud phone call later) with a voice that can bore holes in a wall, no exaggeration. I wonder each day, as she is yapping away into the phone, how can such a big voice come out of such a tiny person? To make matters worse, she works for Help Desk so she is on the phone a lot. But it is not her work related calls that bother me so much. It is when cousin Belinda, girl friend Linda or mother in law Iris call and she goes on and on about hubby and daughter and house remodeling and daughter and vacations and doctor's appointments and daughter and so on. It is all I can do to stop myself from crossing five cubicles, yanking the telephone and wrapping the wire around the tiny, destructive vocal chords.

And its not just the phone calls, she loves to talk to anyone who will listen or even those who momentarily pause at her desk. She takes this as her cue and pitches herself into the latest on darling Candice ( the prodigal daughter). Most of the time I am able to block it out with some form of music or the other, but if somehow I have left my headphones at home (yes my office has no headphones) I get back to back episodes of "all her children". In the past five months I have come to hear more about her and her darling daughter than my own thoughts. It seems like she is the only worker here and Candice is the only 18 months old girl in the world.

OK I may sound tad too bitchy, but come on people, do we really need to know about her citizenship proceedings (originally canadian), OBGYN appointments, anniversary trip to Vegas, her perfect hubby/daughter/car/life ( once she went on and on about this with her girlfriend on the phone). The fact that she is mostly surrounded by 20 something young male interns who do not seem interested in her ramblings, does not seem to faze her at all. Wow!!!

And now guess what?? She is expecting perfect baby number two. Help me dear God!! Last whole week was all about her morning sickness (or lack thereof, come one she is diminutive) her trimesters, her showiness (or lack thereof), how big she got her first time ( can't be that much, I can bet on it) her food habits, her sleeping habits blah blah blah.

We don't talk, we are not acquainted( I like it that way, indirect conversations are more than enough thank you very much) and I can never bring myself to tell anyone when he/she is disturbing the office peace and quiet (oh I am such a drama queen) and that is why I am venting here. And I am not the only one complaining, other employees are upset as well (they may not have blogged about it but what can I say, I am just more creative that way hehehe).

And BTW, whatever happened to privacy and space? Don't people care about keeping their personal phone calls private anymore. Or is it that sub-consciously people want to flaunt their happiness in front of others. Maybe!

I have nothing personal against the tiny thunderstorm (other than her annoying loud voice) but I do hope she goes on maternity leave soon, or when we move to the new building (coming up soon yayyy), I'm among the lucky few who are sitting far away from her (and others like her).

The Fall Premiere

Fall is coming...and I couldn't be more excited. It is not that fall is my favorite season or I love the Halloween or pumpkins or anything of the sort ( I don't have my TV so the new fall season has nothing to do with it either). It is just the idea of finally seeing some variety of seasons other than summer and winter that has me going around inspecting all non-evergreen trees closely. Having spent most of my life in a coastal town, I hardly ever saw any real change in season and usually just felt it based on the level of humidity. Summer was extremely humid, monsoon: humid and winter: less humid. After switching continents several years ago, I have yet to experience a real fall. Actually until a couple of years ago, I still had not seen snow, but a week in Boston took care of that.


Few days back as I walked out of work, I looked up at the mountains to soak up the sun ( yes in the NW we try to take in as much Vitamin D as we can, when we can) and saw hues of bright orange, yellow and red peeking through the bright evergreens. The air was crisp, fresh and a little cool. I couldn't help but smile. My very first fall!!!

Thanks to my nomadic life and my latest trek to the pacific NW, I will finally experience my first real autumn. People at work think I am crazy because I keep bugging them about foliage. How orange will it get, does it rain here in fall ( they say no, but they also said that rain will end in may and it continued well into late June so I don't know) where can I go to see the real colors, will the weather remain this crisp and fresh (its been amazing here but I don't think they feel it huh!!)

Anyway, I got excited enough to write about it. I have made plans to visit the places with maximum foliage and even try some pumpkin pie. Happy fall to those who read this :)

Breakup story - The Perpetrator

Oh yes...the much awaited (ya rite) part two of the Breakup Story - The Ditched.

Note: For sake of simplicity, I will refer to the perpetrator (perp - for short) as a he. This in no way implies that the perpetrator cannot be a female and I am some women rights activist who deems all women as victims in a man's world. Hmm actually in some instances that may be true but...hey wait a minute this is turning from a note into a post. You get the point. Lets continue with the breakup story Part II.

People who have received the bad news may not realise it but the person who breaks up does not have it easy either. He has to deal with a lot of drama at his end as well, not to mention the strategizing and planning it takes to go through with the actual breakup.

The feelings of discontentment take root within the perp long before the actual breakup. He knows he is unhappy, he knows this isn't what he wants or he realises this is not working for him, but he denies it. Of course this only happens to the perps who were actually involved in the relationship and had once been in love, as opposed to the ones who are just out to have a good time - our modern day Casanovas and Jezebels. (I have no experience of being either so lets not focus on them)

The state of denial lasts for sometime as he tries to work things out, but either of these two things happen to end this self-destructive behavior. The perp falls for someone else or the perp's partner confronts him with a "talk". The "talk" almost always involves references to future plans, wedding or just simply taking the next step, whatever that may be. The perp suddenly panics and tries to stall sometimes successfully while at others not so much. Unsuccessful stalling usually results in him accepting whatever is being proposed.

Either event forces the perp to think and reevaluate his feelings, thoughts and ultimately his priorities. In other words, he freaks out and tries to reason with himself as best as he can. This is where generalizing perpetrators gets the hardest. While some perps can reason and logicalize the situation and are able to see and do the right thing, others can reason, logicalize and realise but are too scared to do anything about it. In other words we can distinguish between them as chickens and non-chickens. Both the perps do break up but the circumstances are quite different.

A non-chicken perp will go and fess up like a man (or a woman) hoping he will be able to handle whatever ensues post breakup. A chicken perp on the other hand, not the one for directness, sends out signals and indirect messages to get his feelings across. He avoids phone calls, emails and meetings and becomes unreasonable, moody and very hard to be around. In other words he does a good job of humiliating his partner. Eventually the partner picks it up and confronts him. And that's when hesitatingly he fesses up. Some really big chickens actually survive several confrontations before admitting to anything.

Soon after the breakup the perp feels this sense of achievement and goodness ( read Godliness) within him. He believes he has done something good and noble by saving somebody from a life of misery and deceit. He tells anyone who will listen, how he did what he did for the other person and how the person deserved much better than him. He may have some lingering feelings of guilt here and there, but the greater sense of good puts those to rest.

Despite his best intentions the poor perp cannot spare himself from his ex's drama - the anger, the guilt trips, the threats, the questions. He tries his best to be kind and supportive but cannot help get a bit annoyed. At the same time he feels liberated and wants to enjoy his new found freedom. So he starts his own share of partying and having fun, all the while ensuring that his ex gets the message that he is happy and moving on.

Time passes and both parties get on with their lives. But every now and then they think about each other. The ditched with distaste and the perp with wonder. The perp no matter how satisfied he is with his current life will always wonder whether he did the right thing. And while he may still believe that he did, he seeks some consolation, some acknowledgment of the good. Little does he know that it is his deep-buried feelings of guilt that are causing the restlessness and that this restlessness will only be satisfied if he can get the acknowledgement and forgiveness from the ditched. These feelings sneak up on him ever so quietly catching him completely off-guard. He knows the ditched has been through hell and back, he gets the news from mutual friends and acquaintances and eventually he doesn't feel as noble as he did earlier . It may take years or months, but the guilt does hit the perp and it hits when least expected.

Overcome and consumed with guilt, the perp may reach out to the ditched. What happens after that depends on a number of factors. What kind of person is the ditched? How far along she(or he) is in her quest to get over the broken relationship? Has she moved on? What kind of lives both parties are leading? etc. etc. Some perps get forgiveness, some banishment and some get neither.

Its a tough job being the perpetrator, but is it always the evil one? Is the ditched always the victim? Is breakup ever the right thing to do? Is it all even worth it? All these questions have many contrary answers and they may vary based on perspectives and experiences. Perhaps, the questions are even worthy of a separate blog. Maybe, lets see.

The angel

klutz? You talking to me???

We all have problems with our own selves. Over the years I too have had many issues with myself, some big some small. Some of these issues have been resolved while others are still being dealt with. And then there is this one problem that has not only outlived all others but it has also been growing with the passage of time, sort of becoming an epidemic. It is annoying and its effects numerous and damaging.

Those who know me, (yes that's all of my three readers) may have very well seen what repercussions this issue has had on me and my life, sometimes even their lives. I am so tired of it and am yet to discover the root cause of the problem. Perhaps genes...hmmm...I don't know. It is hard for me to think about it, but even harder to ignore it. Specially when in middle of the store this "problem" makes me unconsciously swat at a sky high pile of paper towels. Before I know it, some twenty cylinders of white paper are rolling away in all different directions leaving me paralyzed with horror and mortification. People stare, kids snicker, store employees curse and I just apologize, profusely.

Yes, my biggest issue with myself...why the hell am I so God damn clumsy and accident-prone??

I have no idea how things automatically get in my way, how toes find their way under my feet, how my arms get tangled up with objects (or people) that are seemingly far away. How come other people don't zip their hair between the zipper of the jacket every single time or trip over their own toes or burn themselves almost every time they come in contact with an iron or a hot pan. Life falls apart for me ever so often as containers of food fall out of my hand leaving a huge mess or my fingers poke myself in the eye trying to tie my hair in a pony tail. The klutz syndrome gets worse as soon as I enter the kitchen or handle any food related item. I have lost count of the carpets and sofas I have spilled coffee and tea on, while gesturing with my hands (of course at the time I was still holding the cup).

I have so many stories, so many embarrassing moments; they can actually make a slapstick sitcom based on them. It will actually be at par with "Some Mothers Do Have Em"(ironically, Papa has always paralleled me to this guy all my life). After all how many people have tried to make a smoothie without covering the blender or placed a hand on the iron directly to see if it is hot enough or poured steaming hot oil from a pan into a cup, while holding the cup ( yes I had blisters for days). Its like every now and then a part of my brain goes off in sleep mode for no rhyme or reason. I'm otherwise seemingly coordinated and smart. I can drive well, talk well, write well even dance well. But put me in a kitchen or a grocery store...hello total retard!!!

I guess it was cute, funny and adorable when I was 20 and weighed 30 lbs less. At 32 its plain embarrassing! I am a walking time bomb that can blow any minute and I have no clue when or how. And of course the disease is progressing with age - Red Alert!!

Hell I want to be a part time carpenter one day since I love to fix and build things but my friends had a field day with this notion - images of houses falling down while I am glued to a dry wall were described in great details. Sighhh!!! I have become the butt of jokes and entertainment for those around me. I at times take offense and try to deny it but what can I do when my actions speak so much more louder than my words.

Cursed for Life

Life never changed for me did it? I am still being pushed and pulled from all different directions and in all different directions. But in the midst of it all, cant help but think how much of being in this situation is my own fault? Once I start mulling over this and in turn sharing it with my all-perfect, all-knowing Guru Ji - LG, it did not take long for me to come face to face with the truth. It is entirely my fault. ughhhh!!!!!Sighhhh...I hate being wrong and even more than that, I hate when he is right (which is quite often hummmph).

I have known for quite sometime that I am a really nice person. Generally, people have confidence about their skills and talents or their intelligence. I on the other hand am self-assured about being a very nice, good-hearted human being. In fact, I am probably one of the nicest human beings I have ever met in my life. I know to some I may sound conceited, narcissistic and as lacking humility, but I know this for a fact that I am oh soooo nice. You may ask, what makes me so sure about it? Well the answer is quite simple. I was born to amazingly nice people who are world-renowned for being the nicest people ever (almost - yes i exaggerate a bit, but just a bit), and all my life I was taught to be nice to people and all my life I worked towards becoming the nicest person ever. Of course, doing that I never realised I am screwing myself for life.

Now when I say I am nice I mean I am nice all the time inspite of myself, even when I am trying so hard to be otherwise. Please be clear that I am not putting up an act to be liked or I wanna be known as a Miss goody two shoes and praised all over for being a model human being. Anything but that. Perhaps I started of as that but the first time I got screwed over by a fellow human being after being nice to him/her, I knew this behavior is highly dangerous. I need to watch out for it. And boy was I right!! I have been screwed over so many times since then, because I can never say no, because I cannot be instinctively mean, because I still deep down believe in the goodness of people and last but not the least because I expect people to be caring and understanding towards those around them.

I keep running into people who are unknowingly selfish and self-involved yet every time I am surprised. People have repeatedly taken advantage of me (knowingly or unknowingly I have yet to decide) and I am almost always taken aback. People say mean things (in anger or in jest) and I am so shocked I become speechless and only think of the right thing to say after 20 mins of utter disbelief.

Over the years I have programmed myself to come across as an unfriendly, rude and highly aggressive person ( i crack the meanest jokes everybody). Of course being 5ft 7 and slightly ( ahem ahem) over weight helps matters tremendously ( I can seem scary :)). This helps me keep people at arms length so that I can observe them cautiously before letting them into my life. Of course it does not help my cause at all if the person in question is desolate, in need, alone, broken hearted or just lost. For some reason people with any of these problems become a personal responsibility of mine. I cannot leave them on their own, and i feel the need to fix them up. No, not fix them up with someone, just fix them up, renovate them.

The protection mechanism devised solely by some demented part of my sub-conscious has perhaps spared me from more situations of screwdom, but I still don't know how to retort back to rude behavior on cue, still cannot resist helping out whoever I can and of course I still haven't the slightest clue how to say no and If i manage to say no then how not to feel guilty about it. Oh guilt!!! Oh yes along with the nice nature I am blessed with a hyper-active conscience that feels it needs to keep prodding me to do the right thing - ALL THE TIME!!!!! (Do you know how tiring that is). Also I need to live up to everyone's needs and expectations. Otherwise I can get no sleep and have to eat bucketful of ice cream just to avoid the guilt.

I'm sure if you have read thus far, you probably hate me for either being a bitch or for portraying myself to be a saint. To all of you it surely seems that I am just tooting my own horn so I come across as a reincarnation of Mother Teresa. Oh how I wish all this was true and I was some egotistical, self-adulatory, wannabe saint of a human. I wish this because that would free me to be happy because then I will not be aware of others' unhappiness. It would free me from all the guilty feelings stirred by others who feel I am letting them down, even though I go to all lengths to be there for them. Free to say no so that I wont have to bend over backwards to fulfill a commitment while neglecting things that really matter.

But noooooooo....I am none of these things coz I am just plain old nice. Yes I am cursed for life.

Touched By An Angel

We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.

Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fearfrom our souls.

We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love's lightwe dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.