Just call me "clownfish"

Was reading about clownfish today. I found some interesting facts about them. For one, they're one of the few animals that aren't affected by stinging sea anemones. For another, they start their lives as males. As they age, the largest male in the group becomes a female.


Why is that important, you ask? Well, I get the feeling that slowly I'm turning into a woman. And it's not like there's a lack of evidence:

+ I found myself debating with a friend on the merits of winter care lotion versus 'saada' moisturizer.
+I well up during the episode of FRIENDS when Ross and Rachel break up. Every single time I watch it.
+I actually told someone, "It's not what you said, it's the way you said it that hurts".
+I could relate to this post by eM and why it'd be weird for a woman.
+I don't think swearing or being boorish in public is acceptable in the least.
+I tend to ruminate a lot over past relationship(not plural)/crushes. Often, I end up blaming myself for why things didn't pan out.
+Nearly all my friends, and most people who read this blog, are women. No, it's not a boast. I've been asked by a lot of people why that's so. And it's a little weird everytime that happens.
+I go through periodic spells of blue moods. here and here. Notice that they're almost exactly 2 months apart.
+I don't give a whit about cricket (although that doesn't prove anything. pseudo is as cricket-crazy as any guy I've met. And that one isn't the only post about cricket she's written.)


Sometimes the only things I have to remind myself that I still am a guy are the stubble on my face, and the fact that I can pee standing up. It's not fair. Men come under attack from so many sides. If it's not feminists, then it's hard-to-please gfs/wives (haven't got that problem as yet). And if it's not them, it's scientists telling us how fragile the Y-chromosome is and how it keeps accumulating mutations and how men as we know them may not exist after a few hundred generations. It's bloody pissing off.


I'm not quite sure why I put this post up, considering that most of my readership is young and female. Considering that it's kinda obliquely sexist. I don't know, some things just get to you after a while. Although in some ways it's kinda cool being the only guy I know with more female friends than male :)

Story of my life

(Note: You may see more posts coming up with this title. It doesn't mean I'm depressed. Just that I was too lazy to come up with a new title when I posted it)

Preparations are under way for the trip to Delhi. What trip to Delhi, you ask? The one I mentioned in my previous post. You probably missed it in all the bitching.

On Thursday, we had an oratorical competition. The topic was, “Scientific study should be for the benefit of the society.” Participants had to speak for the motion for two minutes, do an about face (not literally) and talk against the motion for two minutes. This innovative competition saw a grand total of … 6 entries. And Yours Truly was one of ‘em.

I have a feeling that, subconsciously, I enjoy shooting off my mouth. I really didn’t plan on taking part. It just happened. I ended up registering on impulse and I said some very confusing, downright silly things. It must be the first time some one mentioned Einstein, GPS, vaccines and cavemen in the same speech. Needless to say, I lost. Maybe I would have won the prize for the most incoherent speech. Sadly, there was nothing of the sort.

Following that, at 1900 hrs we had a debrief about the trip (Military time makes it sound like it’s a bigger deal than it actually is) We selected a leader for our team. (B_G, take a bow) We decided that we needed more practice in the sci-fi writing event. Apparently our writing either wasn’t scientific enough. Or, as in the case of one of the first year students, wasn’t fictional enough (!) And my genetics prof also insisted that we practice for the debate and other oratorical events. I’d made a very big impression. As an example of what can go wrong…:-(

Yesterday was fun. We went down to Symbiosis for a quiz on the media. It was part of a 3 day long fest organized by their Media and Communication school. The quiz itself was crap. Mostly because the Quizmaster WAS JUST AWFUL. For one, he stood behind a lectern. He mumbled. He used corny, beaten-to-death lines. He wasn’t friendly. He wasn’t engaging. And he made up the rules as he went along. He even had a flunky to walk around the stage. The guy actually told one of the teams, “Don’t argue with the quizmaster. Just answer the question,.” Or, in other words, you can’t win. One of the few times that I was glad I didn’t qualify for the finals.

I did meet Saras, one of my seniors from school. She was in the organizing committee for the fest. She was part of one of the most bubbly, creative, colourful in-your-face batches. And she was one of the most bubbly, creative, colourful and in-your-face among them. Looks like she’s doing pretty well. She’s got an interview lined up with STAR Networks next week. And I’ve got Chem practical reports to submit next week. Damn.

After all that running around from my coll to Symbi and back, I went shopping in the evening. I had to get a jacket for aforementioned trip to Delhi (last time it’s gonna come up in this post, promise!). And this morning, when I look at what I bought, I’m having second thoughts. I’ve realized that satisfaction with what you buy is a lot like waking up the morning after. If it’s you’re girlfriend, who you obviously know well, beside you, it fills you with a warm feeling and reassures you that she’s there. If it’s a girl you barely know, and you’re slightly hung over, you’re scared. You’re wondering “What did you just do? What the hell were you thinking?!”

See, I’m a slave to brands. It’s a mark of quality. For me, whenever there’s a choice to be made, I always go with the branded one “What hard drive do I buy? The branded one. Which restaurant do I go eat in? The branded one. Who do I ask out? The branded one” You get what I’m saying?

So, I bought a Puma Jacket over something called a “t-base”. Both cost me about the same. But now, the Puma, well…

Don’t get me wrong. The material feels really good, it fits really well, and it has a nice, sporty air to it. But now, it looks too casual. I get the feeling I could have spent my not-overflowing funds better if I’d looked around a bit more. And the colour. It’s almost the exact shade of grey as my school uniform! Freudian slip? One-night stand? Impulse buy? Dunno, but it cost me MUCHO bucks.

Anyway, I’m gonna go watch the auditions for the college play. It should be fun watching someone else make a fool of themselves on stage, for a change. Ciao!

(Factoid: Puma and Adidas were founded by brothers Rudolf and Adi Dassler, respectively. They split up their shoe-making business after WWII into two companies. Apparently there's been a history of Ambani-style split ups. And Adidas comes from ADI DASsler, not All Day I Dream About Sports)