That's it. I have been trying to write a seriously touching, tear-inducing, total literary piece of a post.
And all I can think of is my brother throwing a capo at me after I try to sing a song, realise it's not in my natural key and thus alternate between screechily high and ghoulishly low. I am a one-woman orchestra of dischord.
I then hit my brother's friend, ask him to hit my brother and run away before anyone hits me.
I then finish dinner feeling hungrier than when I started thanks to Masterchef Australia.
So this is all you get to read. *lopsided insane grin*

The Boringest Week Ever

Week? Month. Whatever...
All my seniors who took gap years warned me that they get boring in February. I sailed through Feb. Swaggered through March. I told people that gap years were meant for me, I loved every second.
Then I ran out of things to do.
One day I was bored and lying on the couch watching strangely dressed NRIs dancing around in a K-Jo movie with fascinated horror. Maybe the florescent clothes hypnotized me a little. The next day I was throwing up five times a day and too weak to get up. That wasn't even the bad part.
The bad part was my mom waking me up to ask me if I was feeling ok and then telling me the silver lining of my sickness was that I might lose some weight.
Thanks Mom. Worst nurse ever!

Once I was better I realised that I had actually slept for four days, not one and missed a Chelsea semi-final. I also started suspecting that I wasn't actually Sherlock Holmes and that might have just been a fever induced hallucination. Both these facts depressed me a lot so I enrolled at the local swimming pool.

I hate swimming. My total lack of grace on solid land is only magnified in water. Moms probably point me out to their children as an example of how-to-not-swim. The other day I crashed into someone, floundered in the water till I was sure I'd drown and then grabbed a passing butt to regain sea level.

I thought I'd hit rock bottom till I went to the vegetable market, lost one of the two bags I was carrying and retraced my steps for half an hour in an effort to find it. The vegetable-seller-person suggested that I look in bag one to find bag two. I mean, do I really look that stupid? I nodded politely and walked away. Then I bought a watermelon, telling myself that I could eat it for four days and hence wouldn't have to come back to the horrible bazaar. Two minutes later I realize that I'm not strong enough to carry it home.

After staggering home with that giant watermelon (it was the smallest in the store) I'm taking some well-earned rest. Mom walks in. She launches into a whole worry thing featuring a mean conservative mother in law vs me. ME? I'm 22 and weddings scare me. Not to mention relationships, responsibility and commitment.
"Ma, can we not talk about this?"
"Why can't we talk about this? We never talk. These things are real. We should talk about it. Listen I'll totally beat up your mean mother-in-law!"
The imaginary one?
"You're going to miss me when I die and there's noone to beat up your mother-in-law!"
Yep, that wiped the smile off my face. Now I was just baffled.
Still not finished she goes on,"I'm sure you're gay. That's why you're so uncooperative when I try to talk about these things."
I got up and ran. Earphones!

Did I miss the headlining research on mothers-in-law being nicer when the couple is gay?

Maybe I'll start reading newspapers to get rid of this boredom. Be up to date on mothers-in-law and genetically modified mini-watermelons.

me: I'd catch a grenade for you-oooooooo

serve up my head on a plate for you-OOOOOOO

bro (giving me worried looks out of the corner of his eye): you know those aren't the real words right?

me: dude! these are the words. it's a creepy love song

bro: nooo. the words are 'put my hand on a blade for you'. considerably less creepy/violent. (looks very worried)

Been at home for almost two months now. Gap year is progressing great so far. (I think) Extended-conservative-Indian family is not exactly appreciative/understanding/comprehending-motives (if any). I probably haven't helped because I have spread around ten different versions of my "plan". I just make one up and say it with a lot of unconvincing looking eyebrow wiggling when anyone asks me. So people comparing notes either conclude that I don't have a plan or that they know different peopled called me. Probably the first, you know?

Ah well, short term aim is something I have today atleast- REMEMBER to go to driving class.

RULES

Henceforth my life will have strict rules.

1. Scrawny little mice are not allowed to run over my laptop. Big rats may do so if they wish coz I'm scared of them and so won't protest.

2. People who call me are not allowed to explain why they suddenly started mumbling. Just don't mumble. Especially if the reason is that you just started bleeding from your nose.

3. Professors cannot tell me that my attention span is short. Firstly, it's short only when you're boring. Secondly, my lab partner made the addition mistakes, or maybe her calculator made them and she didn't notice. I just happened to be the one holding the notebook when you looked.

4. My name is not ghonchu.

5. Gardeners are not allowed to have power trips when I had class till 4.30 and feel tired and murderous and back-ache-ey. They should choose better moments to show me how they are more important than me in the universal scheme of things. Or for the commonwealth games to happen. Whatever.

They are not allowed to look at me smugly when I can't find my books in the big mound of chaos you call the luggage room. You have the key to the room. I get it. I do. You are busy ruining my hostel for the games to happen. They pay you. I forgive you. Just don't be smug. Those books are important to one little nerdy child called ghonchu who is very confused about the future. She needs to move them to her temporary home. Just open the damn door.

They are not allowed to lie down on mattresses and stare while I trip over all the cartons and my shoe goes flying. I know my shoes are to big for me. Not his problem.

Helpful suggestions about how to implement these rules will be rewarded, not in cash but in kind.

This week has been depression about results, apprehension about the future, creative constipation, confusion about where to live, eating chicken at 1am because the neighbours felt sorry for two of my flatmates having mangoes for dinner, decisions to drop out of college and to give various different postgrad studies exams. yuck. i want peace of mind.
and butter chicken.