Inside Louisville's (Indian) Debutante Society

WOW! Has it been a long time or what? Since coming back from my vacation (teardrop), I feel like my weeks have been a crazy whirlwind of activity sooo... I apologize for the lack of blog posting. I know you have all been waiting on the edge of your seats. 

No worries! I'm back in full swing! After THIS weekend, there is no way I could stay away from the Maliyacular for much longer. What happened this weekend? Why, I'm so glad you asked. A few of my friends/co-workers had been planning a trip to Louisville this weekend for another friend/coworker's bridal shower. 

I know, I know... Louisville? Really? Trust me, these were my thoughts exactly. I mean, I'm all about the Midwest but even I have to draw the line when it comes to the state of Kentucky. But what can I say? We're pretty great friends, so Stephanie, Urmi and I decided to grace the bride-to-be, Neha, with our presence at her bridal shower in Louisville (where her mom and a bunch of her family friends live). 

The road trip started out uneventfully enough... Neha had gotten a Zipcar for the four of us to pile into early Saturday morning and begin the sojourn to Louisville. After a minor snafu at the tollbooth (involving some reversing into oncoming traffic after realizing that the Zipcar did not, in fact, have an iPass... a slight issue given that we were in the iPass lane...), all continued along fairly smoothly. 

We finally decided to stop a little over halfway through to fill up on gas and have a little snack. We'd gotten a super early start so none of us had eaten any breakfast that morning. Well, when you're in the middle of nowhere Indiana, your options are limited.

God, I can't remember the last time I was inside a Steak n Shake... oh wait, yes I can. It was one late night at Ohio State and... well, we were sitting next to a table that, not going to lie, definitely had vomit dripping off the side of a table. 

Ah, the memories. Way to class it up, Ohio State. OH-IO and all that.

Anyway! No better way to really embrace the whole Steak n Shake experience than with... 

Who knew Steak n Shake actually SOLD cottage cheese?!? And you think you can't get a healthy, well-balanced meal at a fast food restaurant...

But I digress. After our healthy, well-balanced meal, we were ready and waiting to continue the rest of the drive to the grand city of Louisville.

Oh, it was all so very lovely. The rest of the drive was fairly uneventful until we actually GOT to Louisville. And this is where the chaos of the weekend actually began to play out. So here's the thing. We all know and love Neha- she's so down to earth, friendly, easygoing... we all thought we knew her so well.

Yeah. Until this trip. Sooo... long story short, it turns out that Neha is a Louisville debutante of sorts. I mean, this girl's suburb literally consists of resorts that are masked as people's houses. I swear, it was like we were living out some sort of a lifestyles of the rich and famous scenario. I can safely say that, by the end of our introductory drive through Neha's suburb, Urmi's, Stephanie's and my mouths were fully agape. 

It sure didn't end when we entered Neha's house and... upon being given our introductory tour were greeted with... well, let's be honest here, a shrine.


A shrine to her sister that is.

Yes, my friends. That's right. Those all belong to just one individual- Neha's sister. Good to know Neha's family is quite... well... accomplished, I guess you could say.

After we had a couple of hours (and some of Neha's mom's AMAZING Indian food) of rest, relaxation and... well, recuperation from the slight shock of Neha's newly revealed debutante-ness... we decided to hit the streets of Louisville.

Trust me. I'm in your boat... I wasn't exactly expecting all too much. This weekend was the start of the Kentucky Derby's celebratory activities, with "Thunder"- basically a huge carnival and fireworks extravaganza taking place right downtown. Before heading downtown, we decided to do a quick dinner at Neha's friend's sushi restaurant... which turned out to be QUITE delicious.

And quite the spectacle. That's right... you're never too old to sake bomb...

Sure, we were sake bomb'ing at a suburban restaurant, with the majority of patrons being 50+ years old and... well, blatantly staring at what the heck a sake bomb entailed... but WHATEVER. I love sake bombs! So FESTIVE, if you will.

By that point, we were running a little late, so we jetsetted downtown, where Neha quickly found us a parking lot and, upon quickly scanning the lot (a whole two seconds, really), declared there to be no parking attendant and therefore, no reason why we would need to pay for a parking ticket. City-dwellers that we are, I can safely say that none of us really had faith in this reasoning... but, well, Neha was already quickly scurrying off to get us to the fireworks display in a timely fashion... what else could we do but follow the girl?

Sooo... we were planning to watch the fireworks from this high-rise building, where Neha's family friend owns a restaurant and allowed us to come up to the third floor for better viewing. We were all quite excited because these were some prime spots, we'd heard (from Neha). As we get out of the elevators on the third floor, we actually run into the most adorable little old Indian man heading onto the elevator... with a bottle of Baileys in hand.

You know, the usual.

Anyway, he is only like the most adorable thing ever and was chit-chatting with us for a few seconds (God bless inebriation, right?), before indicating that he had to head back up to the 18th floor since he was hosting his OWN party up there. 

Well, that was that. We had our 3rd floor party to get to! We quickly found the apartment number we were initially instructed to head to and opened the door with a fair amount of gusto... only to be slightly confused.

White people? We just didn't understand. We literally backed OUT of the apartment after swinging open the door like we'd owned the place... until we found out that these people are only like the friendliest things alive. After some questions and answers, we discovered that we actually WERE in the right spot... it just happened to be that Neha's Indian family friends who had invited us over were sharing the apartment viewing party with... well, some white people. Diversity and integration... imagine that.


A few minutes into some friendly conversation, we found out that we were actually a half hour EARLY for the fireworks. Fine by us- we can easily entertain ourselves. So, while we're sitting there, chit-chatting amongst ourselves, the conversation just happened to circle back to that adorable little old Indian man we'd run into earlier.


I mean, you know me. I love little old men. So a little old Indian man? Sigh- heartstrings. A little old slightly intoxicated Indian man? alkds;jlfadsj;lfj! God bless little old drunken Indian men.


So, when Urmi or Stephanie jokingly mentioned they'd like to see what kind of party HE was throwing... well, I don't know if they really expected us (read: me) to run with it... in their defense, I don't think they know about my slight Adoration of little old men. But... well, they sure do now. 


In my defense, I mean... he'd TOLD us what floor his party was on. And let's be real here, this building was FAN-CY. We wanted to see as much of it as we possibly could! And come ON! Indian people in Louisville? Everyone knows everyone else! Neha would be BOUND to know at least ONE person at HIS party. I was just doing my part... expanding Neha's network, if you will.


In any event, before we knew what was happening, the four of us were back on that elevator, heading up to 18... assuming we'd figure out what apartment his was some way or other. As soon as we got to floor 18, we ran into some white people who were hanging out in the hallway outside one apartment, where it seemed like a bumpin' party was going on... was that our party?!?! Upon seeing the confused expressions of three Indian people and our token white friend, one of the guys slightly smirked and pointed just down the corridor, as if he knew where we should be heading.


Ha. As if he knew where we should be going. WE didn't even really know where we were going. Curiosity got the better of us though, so we turned down that corridor and were greeted with...

Lord. Does EVERYONE know how Indian people behave? Shoes outside the door? As cliche as that was... well, at least we knew we'd found our spot! Before we knew what we were doing, we (okay, maybe it was just me) swung open THAT apartment door as if we owned the place (we were getting pretty good at this by this point). 


Let's just say... well, apparently all brown people DON'T know all brown people in Louisville. Poor Neha did a brief scan of the party and was all set to peace the hell on outta there but... well, come on!! We're friendly folk. And sigh, that little old man was so all about getting us some beverages since we were there. 


So, yes, my friends. That's right. We certainly did acquiesce when he offered us some gin and tonics. We didn't want to be rude after all. 


AND, in my defense, Neha DID end up finding some aunties and uncles that were her family friends, thank you very much.


So, gin and tonics in hand, we certainly did enjoy that grand fireworks display from this lovely apartment's 18th floor balcony.

God bless the lifestyle of a debutante. This apartment was Posh, with a capital p. Complete with gold-plated sinks and everything (that's right... I wasn't the only shameless one. Urmi faked trying to find a restroom so we could give ourselves a little self-guided tour of the place... sure we all followed along, but that is just a minor side note). That's right. Gold. Plated. 


Immediately after the fireworks viewing, we were just hanging out for a little bit, chit-chatting with some of the aunties and uncles (like I said, we are friendly people), making merry with the party hosts...

See? Now you tell ME that he is not simply the most adorable little old man you have ever seen. Thank you very much.


Anyway, before I knew it, Neha decided to drop this stupid bombshell of an idea... leaving the party. 


Not going to lie, I kind of spluttered at the thought. I mean, WHY? We WERE behaving ourselves... as much as any party crashers could, at least. Sigh, I simply didn't understand her reasoning and logic (at that point, I was so high on high-society life, that Neha's explanation that not knowing the hosts of the party should suffice as a legit enough reason to get the f outta there was simply incomprehensible for me). 


Alas, we finally ended up sneaking out of the party to Neha's car... and no parking ticket/towed vehicle! Who knew?!?! We certainly weren't in Chicago any longer... that car would have been towed and probably on the way to being destroyed by Lincoln Towing (not bitter at all, really) if this kind of thing (read: not paying for prime parking spots) had happened in Chicago.

We ended up just going to one bar and then heading to Spinelli's for some pizza...

And fried Oreos. 

We were in Kentucky after all. 


Well. After THAT eventful introduction to Louisville's high society, I can safely say that Urmi, Stephanie and I could not WAIT to see what Neha's bridal shower on Sunday was going to be like. I mean, precedents had been SET.


And I can safely say... we were NOT disappointed. Neha's bridal shower was held at her neighborhood's clubhouse and MAN! Was it decorated to the nines. I'd never been to a party that had a color theme, but we'd all been encouraged to wear green or peach to her shower (so SOUTHERN, right?!?!)... and it actually turned out really well!

But, again, we couldn't get over the people-watching. Let's face it, 70 Indian aunties crammed into a clubhouse for a wedding preparation sort of activity? One really shouldn't expect anything BUT some seriously PRIME people watching experiences. Especially considering this seemed like some version of Louisville's Indian debutante society... if that kind of thing ever existed.


Not going to lie... the shamelessness pretty much flew out the window after last night's chaos, so you better BELIEVE we were blatantly checking out these aunties' diamonds GALORE. I mean, talk about bling. Stephanie, Urmi and I weren't even TRYING to be subtle about it... mouths fully agape and everything. Hell, why stop there? Why not snap a picture or two?

Seriously... doesn't this woman in green look like she's some sort of Bollywood star? Damn not being able to snap a picture of her left hand (complete with, I'd have to say, like a 20-carat diamond). Sigh... I would just like to clarify- I am not a creepy stalker of sorts. I just appreciate high society, thank you very much.


Oh, but how I'm quickly losing focus here. The bridal shower was SO well-put together. So festive, so fun! Complete with delicious treats...

And... well, nothing shy of pure entertainment...

Who knew aunties could actually get cray?

I can safely say... this entertainment style is a FAR CRY from the experiences I've had with my parents' family friends. I guess this exemplifies the difference between "my kinda people" (South Indian, Malu) and... well, those of the Punjabi background. (If you are Indian, you will likely understand this reference.) 

All in all, all that mattered was that, at the end of it all, in spite of the chaos, in spite of the BLING CENTRAL... our darling Neha had a wonderful time (below with her lovely friend, Allison).

All I can say is... girl, can't wait for that wedding of yours. I mean, I'll do my best to be on my best behavior but I certainly can't make any promises, let's be real here...

A Nationality Enshrouded in Mystery

Okay, can you please do me a favor? Before you continue reading this blog post, can you please take a look at my profile picture and tell me what nationality you would peg me for (if you don't know me, that is)?

I feel like, as of late, I'm having a nationality identity crisis.

Here I was, going along my merry way, fully embracing my identity as "the most Americanized Indian girl you will ever meet". But then I meet a fellow coworker and somehow, we end up talking about nationalities. It was at the point when I offhandedly indicate that I'm Indian and he's like "Wait, you're Indian??", that I begin thinking about how we have just embarked on one interesting conversation, my friends.

Of course, instead of directly answering, I respond with "Wait! What did you think I was??" I actually love hearing what people have to say in response. Because, quite frankly, I have heard it all. I dare anyone to outdo my fourth grade experience, where some chick (read: classmate) asked me about my Chinese roots...

Trust me. I know.

OBVI, it's nothing against Chinese people (or anyone of East Asian descent, really), but seriously. Let's have a look at my profile picture once again... and, well, if YOU can find any rationale behind that comment, you go on ahead and let me know.

Anyway! Back to my coworker... whose response to my "Wait! What did you think I was?" question was something along the lines of: "Oh, I would say anything from Hispanic... to African-American... to Persian."

Ummm.

Yup- my thoughts exactly. WHAT kind of physical resemblance do these three nationalities have to one another?

Sigh. I guess that's better than a happy hour I was at earlier this month. When my nationality was brought up again (I don't know WHY this has been such a point for discussion as of late), someone's response to this fun little game involved the statement, "Oh... I have absolutely no idea."

Ummm!

This is quickly going from bad to worse. NO idea? Seriously? I mean, what in heaven's name do I come across like to people?! And why is there such confusion with ME? It seems that most of my Indian friends rarely, if ever, have a problem being pegged as Indian.

You know, I should probably be a bit more affronted by the fact that people have no idea "what" I am, but I'm really not because... who are we kidding? I LOVE this mysterious nationality thing I've got going on! I mean, I've always dreamed of being a Citizen of the World. And if having this whole "nationality enshrouded in mystery" leads to one more Citizen of the World (ME, just to clarify for that fourth grade classmate of mine who, well, apparently needs all the clarification she can get), well... so very darn well BE IT!

Come to think of it, you know what would be The Ultimate Goal? To have just one stranger guess that I am MIXED. OMHG (Oh, My Heavenly God), I literally think I would squeal, hug, swoon and faint (in that order) because, quite frankly... well, how about YOU go ahead and tell me where you've seen ONE mixed person that looks nothing short of perfection.

Sigh. Oh, the dreams. Oh, the... ridiculous dreams.

Hi! Kaise ho app??

Laksdfjlskd!!! Doesn’t that title make you SO excited to want to read more?? Like a secret language... that only about 28-30 million people know about... but whatever.

In case you can’t tell, I’ve taken it upon myself to learn… Hindi!!! I KNOW RIGHT?! WhoEVER would have THOUGHT?! Not me, that’s for sure. I mean, I’ve always loved languages and cultures and all that jazz, but I’ve never really been all that interested in learning Hindi for some reason. Maybe it’s because my family’s language is Malayalam and, let’s face it, I might as well at least learn my family’s language before learning some other random Indian language. But whatever. Now that I’m working with a bunch of people for whom Hindi is their native tongue... well, when in Rome and all that, right? I might as well cross those cultural bounds… span my cultural wings, if you will (ahh, I should be a poet with such lovely phrases, huh?)

Anyway, I’ve decided to utilize the resources right at my fingertips for some (very) basic Hindi training. Spend $1,000 on a Hindi-speaking class at a local college? Travel halfway around the world and pull my own little Eat, Pray, Love stint? No. Way. Instead, I’ve got my own personal weekly (and sometimes daily!) Hindi lessons with my team over in India for my job. We have this weekly half hour call that usually lasts ten minutes (can I help it if we're efficient?), so what better way to spend the remaining twenty minute block of time? Can’t let valuable meeting time go to waste and all that! Therefore, I’ve taken the liberty of creating a “Hindi dictionary” aka an Excel spreadsheet with the Hindi phrase, the phonetic English pronunciation (hello! I have to PRACTICE!), and the English meaning. It’s all very structured and organized, really.

Today was the trial run and, if I do say so myself, it was pretty darn fantastic. It was like a whole new world! I forgot how much I love learning languages, considering the last time I formally studied a language it was about nine years ago (and it was French… which I clearly use on a daily basis). Anyway, it actually all flowed like clockwork. I sent one of my India teammates a list of “common Christie phrases” that I wanted to be translated into Hindi and he sent it back right before our meeting so that I would have the Hindi spelling. And then we just went through the pronunciation/phonetics for a good 20 minutes or so. Now, I know you all are probably thinking, “Oh dear Lord. Common Christie phrases?” But whatever. I kept it pretty generic (I mean, OMG and alksdjf! are pretty universal, so there is no need for EXACT translation over there, let’s be honest), not to mention professional (okay. So I did request to learn the phrase “Mujhe facebook se pyar hai” but whatever. How can you NOT incorporate “I love Facebook!” into any and every conversation around? Facebook has no physical bounds. Hello. Obvi.)

Not only THAT, but thank GOD for my fellow Indian teammates on this side of the ocean to practice my new language on… nonstop and everything!! It’s all quite exciting, really. Exciting for me… potentially annoying for them? … Potayto, potahto and all that. All I have to say is, man am I GOOD at this!! Hahaha. Just kidding. 100% kidding. But whatever. I’m still learning! Everyone’s gotta start somewhere!

And who knew Hindi was such a beautiful LANGUAGE?!?!?! I love hearing people say the things I’m trying to decipher. I don’t even know how to describe it… very smooth and calming, if you will. Oh! And did you KNOW that Hindi SONGS are like the best things EVER?!?! Okay, so I’ve liked Indian songs for a while because of the beat and all that jazz but to understand the LYRICS?!?! A whole new WORLD of delightfulness. In fact, I was just sent THIS song earlier today and canNOT stop LISTENING TO IT. It makes me simultaneously want to cry/melt/float (because, not only is the instrumental simply lovely, but the “video” is just the Hindi AND English lyrics- hence that whole cryability/meltability/floatability component). Kasdlfjalkdjf!!!! (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v9YG2Xhmkn4) Seriously. It’s just so darn deliciously GOOD. I melt just thinking about it. MELTKJlkjafsdl! (I was just about to write what my favorite lyrics to this song were, but I couldn’t decide. There are too MANY! Anyway. Please do have a listen. On repeat. All day. We can have a sing-a-long tomorrow!)

Of course, none of this would be at all possible without only the best teachers EVER. So, in conclusion, I would just like to end this with (and I completely apologize, I haven’t gotten to the grammar portion of the lesson plan, so I don’t know ALL the words to formulate complete sentences):

Bahut bahut dhanyawaad**, Harsh and Vishal… you guys are adhbhut and zabardast***!

Chalo subh ratri*****!

क्रिस्टी (ChristiealksdjflksdjlOIK!UJOIJ!OLIJ!!!!)

*Hi! How are you?
**Thanks a LOT!!
***Wonderful and awesome!
****Good night!

How to Date an Indian (Advice for the Non-Indian)

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/andrea-miller/dating-advice-how-to-date_b_596496.html?ref=fb&src=sp

i cant get over this article! i mean, the title really does say it all: "How to Date an Indian (Advice for the Non-Indian)". as soon as i saw this posted on one of my friends' facebook walls (ah facebook. how i heart thee.), i knew i was going to be in for an entertaining read.

for those who only peripherally know me, i should preface this post with a slight disclaimer... dont be fooled by the color of my skin in that profile picture of mine... anyone who remotely knows me can easily attest to the fact that i am just about the whitest indian girl alive. a indian valley girl, some have even said. sigh. i mean, i tried, i really did. in college, i pretty much only had indian friends! what better way to immerse myself in the indian experience? yeah, it didn't work. at all. rather, it turned out that the one white girl in my close circle of college friends actually became more indian than me... hell, she was citing bollywood movies, had her high school sister sign up for bharat natyam (some sort of traditional indian dance) classes, was actually able to differentiate between "hindu" and "hindi" (one of the lower, more embarassing points in my early college years, i must admit), was regularly using terms like ABCD (american born confused desi... wtf, who comes up with these kinds of things and how was i supposed to know what that meant? apparently it's as common as OMG is to IM, but still. really? really.)... and the like.

anywayy, so this article is essentially designed to tutor non-indian people about how to approach/engage indian people in conversation, because, apparently, indian people are like the cream of the crop? who wouldve thought? what better way to mentally brace... i mean, prepare... myself for the indian onslaught that's only bound to ensue at this indian wedding i have coming up next weekend? a whole bunch of conversation starters right here in one article!

so below, i present to you a step by step analysis of the article's seven pivotal steps in order to ingratiate oneself into an indian person's life...

1. Have an opinion about shahrukh kahn (SRK).

-is it really so wrong that as soon as i read this point, i was like who the hell is shahrukh kahn? no, seriously. is he famous? apparently he is. so the article claims. and apparently everyone else seems to know this.

2. Have a favorite Indian actor (examples given were: shahrukh kahn, salman khan, aamir khan, hrithik roshan, and amitabh bachchan)

-sweet! sure, i have no idea who ANY of those kahns are, and have only heard hrithik roshan's name mentioned randomly once (he was in kites, right?)... BUT amitabh bachchan!!! yess!!! a recognizable name! granted, i have no idea what movies he's been in. i only know of him due to the reference that was made in slumdog millionaire to him (remember? at the beginning? with the bathroom scene?) by the little boy main character (who im only slightly obsessed with...and by slightly obsessed with, i mean i want to adopt him as my own). and these are just examples that the article cited. i mean, there are plenty of other indian actors i can reference... kal penn would be the first one to come to mind... until you read further in the article that he "doesnt count". wtf, if you cant talk about harold and kumar go to white castle upon an introductory conversation, what CAN you talk about? (just kidding. i actually hate that movie. despise, in fact. it's disgusting and NOT funny. just a friendly fyi.) hmm. maybe, actually, i can start talking up dev patel. he's only adorable. and i know slumdog millionaire inside out.

3. Favorite actress - you CAN claim aishwaraya rai, but since she has a reputation for being a major diva, it'll be safer to go with others like rani mukherjee or kareena kapoor.

-finally, something i can agree with. i. cant. stand. aishwaraya. rai. i really dont understand what all the hype is about. i dont think she's all that pretty and let's just say that she's not the smartest one of the lot. sigh whatever. i have no idea who kareena kapoor is so screw that option. rani mukherjee it is. granted, all i know is that she is gorgeous and married to a model husband (i think) so you KNOW that conversation will be coming to a rather speedy end. whatever, worst case, i can just talk about shoot i forget her name... the girl main character of, again, slumdog millionaire. (are you guys noticing a slight trend here with all these points and how it's all coming back to the one indian movie ive seen multiple times?)

4. Favorite Hindi movie - they recommend kuch kuch hota hai, but also recommend three idiots (which recently came out)... going to see a straight up Hindi movie in a big screen theater in the US will also apparently score some major points...

-dear lord. i havent heard about kuch kuch hota hai since undergrad. but let's just say, i have never heard so MUCH about an indian movie. i mean, people were obsessed with this thing (including my one white turned indian friend that i mentioned earlier). she was reciting lines from the movie and everything. and one of my other indian friends had posters of this movie in his apartment/dorm room... i was confused, let's be honest. let's just say that seeing this movie title made me sigh and shake my head. i didnt see the movie back then, i will NOT be seeing it now. therefore, there goes that conversation point. now, three idiots. ive heard from EVERYone that it's really good... particularly people whose opinions i trust greatly. therefore, maybe ill try to shove in a viewing of three idiots sometime this week so that i can have some idea of where to begin when talking about this... i can only BS so much, let's be honest here.

5. Bhangra - learn how to bhangra and you're golden with an indian person. (haha get it? GOLDEN? Indian?? GOLDEN brown skin??? ahh!!! i love it!!! hahah)

-okay, this point i must agree with. im not nearly coordinated enough to do the "traditional" bhangra dance (screw that lightbulb! pet that dog! screw that lightbulb! pet that dog!... yeah, no.), i do love me some bhangra/indian music. i cant understand a word of these songs (i mean, who are we kidding here) but i do love those beats. and indian music is totally starting to get incorporated into a lot of hip hop music... and you KNOW nothing will come between me and my hip hop music...

6. Food - Indians love their food. It's difficult to make, so going out for an Indian meal will score major points. It's a risk, though, as most Indian people only love their homemade Indian food.

-omg i love love love indian food. ironic, because i was not the biggest fan of it whilst growing up. maybe it's grown on me or something. but i agree with the above disclaimers. im VERY particular about eating out for indian food. there's just so many things that can go wrong with indian spices, that it's so hard to get it right. that said, it's also understandably difficult to even consider making indian food unless youre an indian aunty or something. yum i sure could go for some chicken tikka masala right about now...

7. Language - Indians love when you speak their language.

-oh forget it. with this point, i give up. even i have my limits of dignity. i can just imagine myself attempting to speak hindi to someone and offending them for how awful it would come across. and i would never want to actually offend someone!

so, in conclusion, from this article i've learned of the VERY few things that im informed enough to hold a conversation with an indian person about. and, let's face it, the amount of knowledge i have on those few things would get the conversation to about minute 3... and, come to think of it, i hope that my conversation partner has seen/enjoyed slumdog millionaire because that's going to be the bread and butter of any/all such convos. sigh. oh well. at least it's something... because you KNOW i can just go on and on and on (and on and on) about that little boy main character in slumdog millionaire... but that will inevitably just lead to me bringing up my outdated grand August 4, 2007 life plan which will inevitably only scare my audience...

oh forget it. i give up. ill just politely (not to mention, silently) sit and eat my chicken tikka masala while bopping to some indian (hopefully mixed with hip hop. dear god, if it's NOT mixed with hip hop, i just dont know what im going to do) music.

wish me luck - i'll need every ounce of it! im scared...