1. "Cigarettes and alcohols"- Oasis
2. "Cocaine" - Eric Clapton
3. "Sweet Leaf" - Black Sabbath
4. "Comfortably numb" - Pink Flyod

DAY TWO:

“What’s the story? Morning glory?”

You know desperation can lead you to places where you ought never imagined yourself to be and it tends to make you do things you ought never thought you’d actually do. What am I talking about? Since, yesterday; after my horrific escape from the bronze haired girl, I’ve yet not put off the idea of joining a ridiculous club whose main aim is to well (bite me) : ‘Meet New People’. As if there weren’t many people around already! But some part of it (the club) sparks an oblivious interest in me which is hard to ignore. Call it the loser’s ball or whatever. An open mic event and club-organized parties does seem to impress me a bit. Besides, the whole point is meeting new people (girls, to be precise).

As I lazily slouched off the first quarter of the day waiting inside the bank to deposit some drafts. All I could do was to tolerate the unforgiving teller lady, who took every customer as if they were the ones who were responsible for ruining her life. That be done after she ruined my morning glory with her horrendous ways of doing things. I paced on my bike back to study abroad consultancy. There was nothing much to be done than the regular inquiry and the daily brain-wash the counselor gave. During all the talking, there on the side was this girl (gosh, don’t even remember her name). She sat there, her eyes wide listening to everything we were talking about and obviously understanding nothing. I figured that out, right from her face. She was new to this entire study abroad thing. Woohoo!! A study-abroad virgin. What more did I need?

By the looks of her, she definitely wasn’t from Kathmandu and how precise I was. The way she had dressed, the innocent look on her face and her over-friendliness all proved she wasn’t from my city (Kathmandu). Yeah, girls here tend to be a bit gaudy, are obsessed with themselves and (I don’t know how) always have a boy-friend lying around. It’s as if the girls ratio has decreased in my city to such a point where every girls has either a boy-friend or are the ones with a string of “A” and perfect SAT scores (Duh! The ones who you forced yourself to talk to, just so that you could take her notes??!!).

So, this girl, she had a cute round face, was wearing a multi-coloured scarf, medium-length black hair and all amazed by how much familiar I was with the “application” stuff. Sure enough, at one point the counselor went for his lunch and I had my chance to unravel the painful world of ‘application process’ to our very own “study-abroad virgin”. She was a good listener, yeah like yesterday. Her nails were perfect (no nail-polish), if you were wondering, after reading about yesterday’s frightful event. So, it was good. I was the Mr. Knowledgeable and she was the extra curious girl from Pokhara (yea, that’s where she’s from). Most of the time, I only talked of the whole process and there wasn’t any ‘real’ talk. But she seemed willing, none the less.

It’s a bit scary to ask a girl out straight away after you’ve met her for about half an hour, I figured and set my mind on returning home alone. Besides, it looks she’s just came to my city, she’s probably new to the crazy-desperate-Kathmandu-guys who ask you out as soon as you meet thing. So, I let her pass. The real conversation struck, when I was about to leave and for some reason, I did not. She was smiling; I guessed it was a sign. I yanked out my hand, announced my name (yea, we still hadn’t known each other’s name, and dammit I still can’t remember hers, what’s got into me?).

“I am *blah blah* by the way.” A standard, not too literary, not too shy, not too frank, not too weird, line which is more of a cliché. We shook hands, she told her name. And I started off with my first and quite audacious ‘real’ talk. I started off saying; you are not from Kathmandu I believe. And boy-oh-boy, Mr. Knowledgeable is Mr. Telepathy now. She said a certain area’s name and even if I knew where it was, I acted confused. Then began our talk. One after another and sure I had to bring my rambling of the vacation I had in Pokhara (her city) with quite a few exaggerations (I am being nice!)

I left off early. Courteously asked her if I could give her a lift in my bike, which as imagined, she sweetly and enthusiastically opposed, well, she’s still not used to sitting beside strange guys from strange cities in their strange bikes I believe. But she did give me a hit, we might hit it off if we met quite more than three times.

My mind frame worked, as I repeatedly forced myself to be patient. She’ll come around, am sure of that and so is she. Lets see what a second day following has to offer. As I wheel off in search of a damsel in distress whom I could miraculously save and in the process sweep her off her feet. Make her go head over heels for me and eventually have the honor to dump her after a big fight in the ice-cream parlor (Is that my desperation speaking??) Oh, yeah, almost forgot, I will be joining the Club after all.

"Life's never all haha-and-hehes OR the romantic-sitcoms people watch"

When I got a chance to meet new people the other day. The usual judgements and prejudices overshadowed my new resolution of actually talking to less-attractive girls. Other than the slight nods and "Yeas" or "Nopes", I couldn't utter anything else. Following the long desperation since the person I'd been seeing or at least was interested in seeing went away, I'd been making a resolution of trying out with someone whom I would consider isn't of my idealogical 'type'. Yea, I consider myself a world-class judgemental but tell me who is not. Minor things turns me off. Like, the other day there was this girl, bronze medium length hair, fairly 'okay' looking, drove a motor scooter, had a well propotioned body, wore jeans, not too-much makeup but few light touches and an average Kathmanduite in every way.

Things started out okay. We shared pleasantry and soon found a common topic to talk on to. Speaking of which, not just the body or the face. Lately, its even the voice I'm starting to judge or consider. This girl had a bit mushy dry voice which isn't always a big attractor. But I continued on (I am desperate, remember!). Her reactions to jokes (sense of humor) was good. Not lacking nor having over sense of humor. It was good, her laughs weren't embarrasing nor was it like an elephant's trumpet. My jokes seemed to do justice.

Her smile was pretty good. She wasn't just the 'listener' kind who never talked nor was she the 'chatty' kind who never let you talk. She had a fair Q and A type conversation style, which I preferred. She had not put any body spray, which didn't mean she stank. It was just that she'd not been able to get that extra-point of "sexy with a pleasant smell" bonus. No eye-shadows always meant modest. Which by my standards is perfect.

So till now, considering my desperation, she was fitting the bill. Then came the "minor things". A few good moments later, I noticed her nails. Well, I told you the 'minor things'. Her nails were of the small kinds. The ones which are really small. But it wasn't the length that mattered, it was the careless nail-polish of hers that did. She chewed her nails it seemed which was still okay but the way she'd put on her nail-polish or was lazy enough not to wipe 'em off made her hands seems really unimpressive. And that turned me off? well, not quite yet. Later, came the "I sing a song when am happy" thing. Well, she was uttering this totally off-tune and totally "i-get-nausea-when-I-listen-to-it" kinda song with her raspy voice. That turned me off.Yea, it did. Even more frustrating was that she continued on, as if I were infact applauding her.

You might say, bollocks, what has a song got to do. It has in many levels! First off, our song choices are poles apart which can much tell about one's other choices like movies, various interests and even compatibility. Other than that, when the interests diverge so does interaction. And interactions makes up the second dates, third dates and eventually relationships.

Once turned off. Things started seeming even worse for me. I was already being nauseated as she continued to sing the song in her own world without even bothering that I was becoming tortured right next to her. At this point, the only solution was "escape" or "stop her from singing". The second option might have been a good choice but once turned off, her nose seemed longer, her eyes too wide apart, her bronze hair looked strange and so on. I had to leave. Judgemental or not, I yet couldn't keep my resolution and opted the friendly, "it-was-nice-meeting-you-(shake hands)*hope-we-never-meet-again*" manoeuvre.

After that I ran like I'd run away from an explosion. All the way back to the house, I'd tried convincing myself of what could have happened if I'd eventually gone out with her. The desperate and the eclectic has created a new tension for which rarely is there a win-win situation. Throughout the busy, cool breezed, orange-colour skied Kathmandu Valley, I bet there'll be one who'd fit the bill perfectly. Just have to have the patience to keep the desperate from daring something I'd later regret.

I have been "tagged", it seems so:

1. I am ... (much)Sober.
2. I will ... be patient.
3. I want ... you to want me, I luv u to(wat?, its a catchy song)
4. I see ... a vision(ahh, the intellect)
5. I need ...someone to hold on to (sob!)

I now tag:
Abilene
Kiki
BuzzyB
teabag

Hope, I played it correct.

You know as I drifted along dragging what memories were left last year, this year started out pretty lousy. My precocious ways of judging things seemed to have further improved as the long and painful application process continues. There comes a time in everybody's life I believe, when they outta shed their covers. The surrounding, the people and the life, thats what covers them. Over time things don't turn out as you hope them to. Things just seem stubborn enough to remain the same pain in the arse for all the time. Then comes a high point, where everyone's patience is tested and then... its time to shed.

Sure, I sheded off a few things. Relationships that seemed to take more than to give. Friendships so forgotten that even the names in the old phone book doesn't ring a bell and resolutions that, well, never were practical.

As I hopped on from one relative's house to the other's. I saw a pattern of behavior, so much concieved by myself. The way people acted almost seemed choreographed or re-encated. However, the best thing of them all is: Patience. As I'm growing older by the day, patience in me seems to have increased. Which in myself is a very good step. Patience to actually listen to people yob about themselves, patience to give the faintest response and patience to keep focus, the task in hand.

As I grow out of high school crushes and worn out relationships, I believe the year of "7" will bring out something in me, which I yet have to discover!

Yea, love talking about myself. It's my favorite subject! hehe.
Cheers.