This House Eats Shit.

Mood: Rum happy

Listening to: Stay – Thirty Seconds to Mars (live)

Let’s clear a few things up internets. Jared Leto in Thirty Seconds to Mars – Yes. Sweet baby eggplants  yes. That man has pipes that make me wanna weep.  Oh for god’s sake- not that kind of pipe you kinky wankers.

Second – My house does not eat poo. It eats stuff in a way that when I go looking for random things, they are nowhere to be found. Now, this may seem normal to you if you are a person who is not of the overly neat/organized/Martha Stewart Magazine/compulsive persuasion. Unfortunately, I am all of the previous adjectives. In my entire life, I have never lost so many things as go missing in this apartment. Not I forget where I put them, things are not where I left them.  I’m one of those annoying people that repeats that there is a place for everything and everything in its place. I know, I know. I really can’t help it – but I do try to keep that phrase in my head instead of annoying the sam hell out of the people around me.

This has a tendency to throw me off the deep end of crazy, because I just need to not not know where things are. Daddy G has spent many amused hours watching me throw stuff out of closets and drawers cursing, looking for something that I swear I left there the last time I saw it. The worst is electrical cords. I keep all the extra electric cords in a plastic bag. Most of them are free phone cords that we’ve received over the years from a new phone or the phone company, and I have no idea why I don’t get rid of them as we don’t even use our landline right now. So help everyone when a cord goes missing in my house – it will never, ever be seen again.  I’m talking worm hole opening up and the cord appearing in another dimension  out of the sky and smacking someone on the head type never seen again.

My family was lower middle class when I was growing up. Things were downright tight most of the time with both my parents working and doing their best. We grew up with a rather conservative estimation of what garbage consists of. Namely anything that is utterly destroyed and cannot be used for anything else. I have annoyed many a Salvation Army/Goodwill donation center insisting that surely there’s something someone can do with random odd items. Anyhow, moral is – I absolutely would not have thrown good and useful cords away.

My kitchen is another area where things magically move around. I think this has more to do with my new maid rather than the apartment itself, but seriously, how do you hide a 3 liter pot for an hour while I search and curse. My kitchen is not huge, let me assure you.

India has done wonders for me when it comes to chilling the fuck out about things I can’t control – which tends to bleed into absolutely every aspect of life here (the incontrollability, not my chill level). This is just one I can’t get over.

I want my damn HDMI cable back apartment. Also, kitchen, I want that spatula back. 

Bats in the Belfry

Listening to: Fat Bottom Girls - the Casey Abrams/Jack Black version. I love me some Jack Black!
Mood: Happy/Slightly manic

Hey Internets, what's hanging? I know, it's been a while, but someone told me I was a good writer this week. This led to blushing/giggling/a general remembrance that hey, I DO like writing. A lot. I'm just equally good at procrastination/wasting time. Here's to you Varun, for reminding me.

So yeah, just so we're on the same page, if I show up only sporadically, I'm not going to bother with the explanations anymore. 1. Because they're lame (my excuses), 2. It's just a waste of time, and 3. Damn it internets, we agreed that this was a casual relationship. Don't be stalking me.

Here's what I've been up to in the mean time. I've spent quite a bit time with my 28 students. But not too much because it's summer vacation and half of them have wandered off to who knows where. I lost my assistant (to a Master's degree program in the US) and have been enjoying Twitter. Ok, ok, I have been spending WAY too much time on Twitter. It's been fun though. I've met a few interesting, and hopefully non-psychotic people.

I've been to Kakinada in Andhra Pradesh. You can wander on over to Following the Masala if you'd like to hear about that.

We've changed my daughters' school also, to mainly positive effect, which has been great. The three month summer vacation they'll have is not so great.

So not much going on right now Internets. I'm not sure what Bats, or belfrys had to do with anything either, but I'm kind of random like that. I'll be back again, hopefully with something more...focused to say.

This Should Hurt, but I Can't Figure Out When

Hello Internets. 

Long time no ramble. I've had lots of good intentions to blog, lots of ideas in my head....and no excuses. I'm just lazy as fuck about some things - writing is one of them. With 28 piano students and a house to run, I'm lucky just to keep my head on straight most days.

Anyhow. The recent big revelation in my life is death. My grandmother's to be exact. I know death isn't a new thing (trust me - "No one says anything new" - so quotes someone I can't remember in my current inebriate state), nor particularly exciting. The thing for me is, I've not had anyone close to me die since I was in highschool - and that was a friend, not family. So it basically has come as a rude shock, even though I've been trying to prepare for my grandparent's eventual death since I was 18. Not a morbid fascination, more like an inescapable fact of life that I figured would be better faced with preparation. I always had difficulty with it because my grandparents were very, very active/healthy until 5 or so years ago and I still thought of them such. More on how that turned out later.

As I've mentioned, my grandmother was one of my favorite people on this earth and I was ridiculously fond of her. I was blessed to be the first of her 12 grandchildren, so I like to think that she had a special place in her heart for me too. Trust me, she was the kind of person to have a special place in her heart for each and every grandchild, along with husbands/wives/boyfriends/girlfriends, etc. She is the one that I would love to be exactly like at the end of my life, and the first one I claim when it comes to genetics. She had a stable, loving marriage that lasted for over 60 years. She was by no means a perfect person, but she was amazing none the less. Even though I could sit and bore you for 3 more hours on this, I think you get the idea - she was a kick ass person and grandmother.

Daddy G, being the amazing man that he is, stuck me on a plane the evening we found out she had passed away with a promise that everything, including my kids, at home would be fine while I went to be with my remaining family. This is why I love him internets. I spent the week helping my family grieve, or so I like to think - it was a weird week. I spoke at my grandmother's funeral, although looking back, what I said seems so inadequate for the feelings that I had for her. 

Internets, I have yet to cry for my grandmother. Granted, I am SO not the weepy type. Ever. Especially not in front of other people, even Daddy G. I always thought that this would do it though. I'm rather afraid that I'm permanently either numb or a frickin psychopath. To be fair though, I've done a damn fine job being an ostrich and doing my best to avoid though about this subject all together. I think during the funeral, I just denied it was real all together. I could not figure out how I would get through speaking in front of a church of people otherwise. My family is a bit weird too. We have a few that look like tough people but cry at the drop of a hat, and those that just quietly go along without showing feelings outwardly. Our family in particular loves inappropriate humor to deal with uncomfortable feelings. Come now internets, you didn't think my propensity for inappropriate humor popped out of nowhere did you?

The only time I started leaking was when my Grandfather, cousin, and uncle dropped me off at the airport to return to India. Leaving my crying grandfather was almost physically painful - I'm overly fond of him too. 

I guess this is my reaction to the whole thing. My grandmother was 86 years old. She had a long, happy, adventurous life with a loving husband, 6 kids, 12 grandchildren, and 4 great grandchildren. Her last 5 years were spent in pain and I'm very happy that she doesn't have to hurt anymore, even though I would love another hug from her any day. What pains me is what's left behind. I have a shattered grandfather who is lost without the woman whom he claims he married because she had a car. This obviously isn't all he married her for, but how do you comfort someone in pain like that? The pain I feel from losing her seems so very insignificant in the face of that. I have a mother and aunts and uncles (there are no in-laws in our family - everyone is equally involved/loved) that grieve both visibly and not and I have no idea what to do with that.

I had to warn Daddy G today that the storm was coming - I'm just not sure when. As per my usual, it will erupt at some hugely inopportune time, over some insignificant straw breaking the camel's back. Because, you know, I'm am so completely adult and deal with my problems in a head on manner. Pfft. 

There you have it, what's been in my head. I'll try and return soon with something far less....depressing soon.

Becky