Lazarus

Ok so my blog’s been as good as dead for quite sometime. But as we all know, I’m a busy woman with more things to worry about than a blog stagnating somewhere in cyberspace. Sure, you try waking up for lunch everyday, going through archives of webcomics (xkcd, je t’aime!), hours of gtalking, catching up on the books an erudite citizen of the world must be well-versed in, breaking your head over ps options (practice school – check out the funky new bits website ye unenlightened), dragging your backside to the occasional tut and of course, collaborating with a cgpa wise merge-sorted list of people for assignments, staying up all night studying for tests the night before, and I’ll see how much time you have for juvenile pursuits like blogging. Not to mention cultivating a sense of humour. See, I have a theory – if life’s being a bitch now, let her continue, don’t interrupt – soon she’ll get tired of it and then you watch! As long as I can keep that at the back of my mind, dealing with her is fun, and humor keeps popping up in the most unexpected of places. A baby-faced math instructor in a bright yellow sweater straight from the Kiddy’s World catalogue fumbling over the implications of ~p-->q (“ it’s ~p-->~q …. No wait it’s ~(q-->p) … ummm actually it might be q--> ~p”) can brighten up dreary January mornings. Wars over who stole a wingie’s bathroom slippers rage over gtalk status messages (Battleship: “fucken stop stealing my bathroom slippers! Tooooo cheap” Bounce: “I did not steal your bathroom slippers, bitch!” Baa:”Your bathroom slippers are with me”). Two stray kittens are suddenly discovered in a particularly messy wingie’s cupboard – they’ve been there for a week, she merely mistook them for her jacket with the fur collar (the professional geek wing upstairs would probably consider it sacrilege if they found out we named one of them MuP – err… because it mews – they consider all microprocessor rights to remain within their combined electric field). Stories of flying lessons being held in the MT lab do the rounds – you realize connecting a DC Shunt motor with the voltage supply on is the key to the aeronautic adventures. Wing politics get ugly, messy … and then, just plain hilarious when concerns like nightwear (or the lack of it) and numerology enter into consideration (no offence to believers – I can’t help laughing a bit hysterically in the presence of active discussions over whether the digit 8 in a particular room number will make a difference if it ultimately does not add up to the offending number after all.) Who are those people standing in the middle of the road trying to console a girl clutching a soft toy? The girl’s currently hyperventilating because she screwed up a test she actually spent 10 whole minutes studying for, and the soft toy belongs to the Prince.
And then there are those times when you act up and make an utter ass of yourself by shrieking and shouting over minor things (like a first-yearite getting to know some club information before you) and later realize, with a sinking feeling, that the PMS excuse did the rounds a week ago. It’s pretty funny, the look on your face then.
In the end everything’s a gag, and the route there ain’t that bad either. :)