A smack of jellyfish

The Chinese puzzle

2011-06-30T10:44:00.005+01:00

As a blogger, I have in the past, on many occasions, clarified 2 things
Thing 1 - I have nothing against chinese people, and would not consider myself racist.
Thing 2 - On the contrary I have a particular interest in their evolution.

Therefore, I make this blog entry. Its nothing more than the wonderings of the mind that -
Sees. Stops. Sees again. Furrows the brow. Hmms to herself. And walks on.
Then I log on to google/wikipedia - the answer to all things that make the brow furrow. This particular furrow was brought on by something I've noticed, at work, at uni, on the streets. Infact, I'd be surprised if you haven't noticed it too!

Anyone notice how chinese people suddenly seem taller?? Than they ever did before?

See, i've been wondering about this for sometime now. I'm convinced that their average height has increased. SO, in order to confirm my belief I googled the following:

"How are chinese people getting taller" and voila, I discovered I was not the only one thyat noticed!

As much as I'd like to believe that there is a multitude of Chinese scientists in space using satellites to spy on the Netherlands to see what their secret is behind being the nation with the tallest people in the world, the truth must be told.

In the last 20 years the average height of chinese youth has increased by 6.5cm. The world's average increase is 1cm.

So how does one explain this dramatic increase?

China's one child policy was introduced in 1979 as a solution to social, economic and environmental problems in China. Yes, it did decrease the population but made each person taller.

Fewer people meant that there was more money to feel the fewer children. Better nutrition resulted in people being healthier, and therefore taller.

Now the Chinese are worrying about a problem they had never ever had before. I wonder what their solution will be for this one. To see the problem click here.

While we are on the topic of the Chinese, heres the top list of questions the world has asked Google about mystery that are the chinese:

1. Why are Chinese people so smart?
2. Why are Chiense peoples eyes like that?
3. Why are Chinese takeaways closed on Tuesday?
4. Why are Chinese people skinny?
5. Why are Chinese people so good at table Tennis?
6. Why are Chinese people so good at Math?

The best one was:

Where do chinese people come from?

Lol. Where indeed. There's so many of them, yet people have so many questions about them!

Lost and found

2011-02-25T12:43:00.001Z

I've refound my blog.
After a whole year.
I feel like I've re-found a friend.

It made me smile.

Of Donkeys and Men...and Qwerty

2010-02-10T13:26:00.004Z

Some times life leaves us stumped. But in the end a thinking mind always unstumps herself - with some help from wikipedia and some pondering you can always get the answer!

If you have spent all you life wondering: "what ever in the world did happen to that island near the Carribean coast, which was made up enitrely of thousands of floating plastic bottles?", click here.

If however, you worry yourself sick over why the querty keyboard was arranged as a qwerty key board, then let me tell you, that there was a time, long long ago, when they keyboard was alphabetically arranged. It went from A to Z.

Then along came a Mr Sholes, in the 1800s. While we are on the topic of the 1800s may I just add what a cruel century that was? If it weren't for a thousand dead donkeys and suicidal dead people to vouch for that,we, my friends, would have still been ignorant. You see, in the 1800s, one dug a plot of land, buried a donkey, covered it up, and grew grape vines on that plot.

Land with grape vines, with out a dead donkey underneath? Unheard of! Now,why that was done I cannot tell you - you may have forgotten, but this blog is all about the man who made the modern day keyboard.

While we are on the topic of men, I might as well tell you that back in the 1800s, if you committed suicide but were unsuccessful, you were punished by death penalty. I say people should have the freedom to choose between death and...er, death. I think.

Anyway...the qwerty keyboard, this poor chap was a type-writer maker and his type writer kept jamming up because the type bars became tangled. If, unlike me, you are a post-type-writer age person, see what it looks like here. If you've never seen a dead donkey before, click here

See, "the first typewriter had its letters on the end of rods called "typebars." The typebars hung in a circle. The roller which held the paper sat over this circle, and when a key was pressed, a typebar would swing up like this to hit the paper from underneath. If two typebars were near each other in the circle, they would tend to clash into each other when typed in succession."

So, Sholes figured he had to take the most common letter pairs such as "TH" and make sure their typebars hung at safe distances. Simple. He did this massive study and decided that the qwerty keyboard had all the keys at the perfect distance - for the type writer of course.

Now, why was this keyboard format adopted for computers? Man, is a creature of habit...we don't mind the qwerty any more, infact if it were changed to alphabetical-I'd be the first to complain.

Finally, while we are on the topic of firsts - here's an impressive fact about the word type-writer. All of it can be typed solely from the first row of the keyboard! That's Mr Sholes little joke.

x

Belief

2010-01-04T14:13:00.004Z

I can shout out that I believe. I can whisper to myself that I believe, a thousand times, till the sounds fill my mind and soul. I could try to convince you to believe in what I believe. I could write a thesis on my beliefs.

To what benefit?

None of these can mean anything until I believe in my belief. No amount of thinking, speaking or writing about my belief can make me a better believer.

People who are cured of diseases by eating placebos just get cured. They just believe. How can their subconscious belief manifest itself so easily, when my conscious desicion to believe is fruitless?

How do I train myself to believe?

I believe that anything I want can be acheived by belief. I really do. But do I really belive it? If I did, I would have got everything I wanted. So then what is the point of having the belief...

Comfort in Discomfort

2009-05-19T22:51:00.002+01:00

People find comfort in the most eccentric of habits. It's true and, if you are the kind of person that gets queasy at the meerest mention of a queasy-something, then I would advise you to look away, ideally about now-ish.

I once read of a woman who suffered from a compulsion that forced her to pluck hair out of her scalp and lick the root of her hair. Distrubing, I know, but she found comfort in that. And before you judge her, wait, because - there are a lot more weirdos out there that you can judge and give funny names to! I can source them to you and then you can judge and laugh!

Thing is, I'm not so sure I can be part of this judging and naming. You see, lately, I've had a fleeting sensation that my very self has been finding comfort in discomfort. As distrubing as it sounds to you, it can't be half as disturbing as it is to me, given that you're watching as an outsider, whilst I'm very much inside of me.

So it is a bit worrying. Thankfully, I'm at a prliminary stage so you wont find me plucking my own hair, sleeping on a bed of nails or that absolutely grotesque thing you are imagining! How dare you!

Getting to the poinnt now - since some readers think I take way too long to get to the point, specifically a certain LUDA - I have a nice cosy, warm king size bed that I could potentially sleep on. But I choose, and observe how I stress on choose, to sleep on the floor. So every night I lay out a few layers of bed sheets and a quilt and sleep on the ground.

Why?

Because I find comfort in discomfort.

There is a rationale behind this bit of quirk. I have this odd notion that if I sleep comfortably I will oversleep and oversleeping results in a wasted morning, un used sunshine and hazy memories. So in order to prevent the above mentioned I have to be uncomfortable when I sleep. If I sleep uncomfortably then surely I will wake up at the earliest possible opportunity with an unwasted day ahead of me, masses of un used sunshine, and with memories intact. And that makes the discomfort worth it.

There you go......I find comfort in discomfort.

I Am Busy

2009-05-10T18:04:00.004+01:00

Well yes, I am busy. So I don't have the time to guiltlessly engross myself in doing what I enjoy, for the fear of being found out. But, what I can indulge in, without being caught, is thinking. So I thought. And came up with this random thought.

You see, all these silly guys with suspicious bulges around their bellies that blow up in public places before you can even say, "Oh right, I know why that edgy, shifty eyed gentleman is a bit bulgy round the belly! It can't be lack of exercise because he looks pretty toned elsewhere, maybe its his clothes, they are a bit loose to be fair. Why do they fit funny? No wait, OMG- I THINK HE'S HIDING A BOMB IN THE...*&%*!", are a wee bit annoying.

Yes, I speak of Mr. Bomber, Suicide Bomber. Here's the solution. Now, obviously these guys get a kick out of explosions, maybe a childhood trauma thing, who knows? Sigmund Freud , maybe? Anyway my brother and I were talking about these queer lot and we came up with a great idea. See, brainstorming creates great ideas. Thats what we did.

So, what we need to do now is to invite them all to a networking session. They all think alike so they are sure to kick it off together. And since they all share a love for exploding, they can end the evening with a blast. Quite literally. Like a synchronised finale. I mean really, I cannot imagine a single person in the world who would enjoy such an event more than them! What's more, the evening would be so successful that it is sure to go down in histroy!

Random piece, I know. Maybe it's an examination side-effect. Okies, time to get back to Financial Engineering revision :(

Sana

Does double you trouble you?

2009-03-31T11:38:00.008+01:00

I feel sorry for W. It's been mis-used, mis-represented, mis-treated and mis-understood. I pray this blog will do it the justice it deserves.

The biggest suffering for W was to be mistaken with V. And, yes, I admit, it is my people, my fellow Indians, that indulge, knowing or unknowingly, in traumatising W. Since we are naming and shaming, let’s add to the list of abusers: the continental Europeans (think Transylvania or Dracula saying “ I vaant to drink your blood.), and the early Latin speaking lot. It's unfair - so thank you LUDA, for this question.

Why is the letter 'W' called double U and not double 'V'?

I’d like to put the sole blame on the Indians or Transylvanians, but the truth is that they are not completely to blame. It’s the history of W itself that must be taken to court.

W has a history. A boring History. I know because read it. I would not recommend you reading it! Because I'm kind and generous, here's a summary:

At some point following the discovery of the wheel's roll-able properties and the two-stone-fire-miracle, when Latin was invented by some clever bearded and robed folk, the W sound was actually represented by U or V. Following this, with the coming of the Medieval Latin era, the W sound actually became the V sound. Weird, I know. But really, that’s how it happened!

Then people realised that they needed the W sound to say words like wind, water-melon and whey. So they started to represent the W sound with 'uu' to differentiate it from the W sound which had turned into the V sound! You follow?

In some scripts though, the W sound was still written as a double 'v', while other scripts adopted double 'u'. And that’s how it remains today.

Note: If the circumstances surrounding double you, trouble you, then I have some advice for you. It's simple, easy and will make you want to slap your forehead for not thinking it up yourself:

Just write your w's as uu and not vv.

Slapping your head yet?

Well so there you go, all you lot Who Wondered What Was With W, you have your answer! While I'm at it, I've pasted a remarkable story written by a chap only known to us as 'Anonymous'. Shame really. But good story, if you are willing excuse the weak plot.

Winnie and Walter
"Warm weather, Walter! Welcome warm weather! We were wishing winter would wane, weren't we?"

"We were well wearied with waiting," whispered Waiter wearily. Wan, white, woe-begone was Walter; wayward, wilful, worn with weakness, wasted, waxing weaker whenever winter's wild, withering winds were wailing. Wholly without waywardness was Winifred, Walter's wise, womanly watcher, who, with winsome, wooing way, was well-beloved.

"We won't wait, Walter; while weather's warm we'll wander where woodlands wave, won't we?"
Walter's wanton wretchedness wholly waned. "Why, Winnie, we'll walk where we went when we were with Willie; we'll weave wildflower wreaths, watch woodmen working; woodlice, worms wriggling; windmills whirling; watermills wheeling; we will win wild whortleberries, witness wheat winnowed."

Wisbeach woods were wild with wildflowers; warm, westerly winds whispered where willows were waving; wood-pigeons, wrens, woodpeckers were warbling wild woodnotes. IF YOU ARE REALLY BOTHERED TO READ THE REST OF IT, GET IN TOUCH!

I am still open to random questions, so ask away!!

Sana

The Big Idea

2009-03-30T11:03:00.006+01:00

So when you run out of ideas and inspiration, find it in others! That is what I discovered last week. My big project now is to ask everyone I meet one simple question, “Ask me any random question - as random as your imagination can muster?" And I will find equally random answers!

When I got this idea I turned to the first person I saw. A person who was sat in front of the telly, sizing up a lone popcorn meditatively. It was my sister, watching something so boring that she found a popcorn a lot more interesting.

Yes, I did feel a little guilty pulling her out of her meditative frame of mind but sometimes things just have to be asked. Full stop. It had to be done. So I asked.

And she asked back. This post is therefore dedicated to the very first random question I got asked. As predictable as the question is likely to sound now that I have set the scene, I'll comply with tradition and start off with writing out the random question. Here it goes:

"If the corn field became too hot, would all the corn just pop pop pop?"

I asked my brother the pop-corn question to see how he would reply:

Me: If the corn field became too hot, would all the corn just pop pop pop?

Brother: Well, it has to be dry corn, so.....

Me: So it wouldn't?

Brother: No

It ended there.....Well, now I'd like to expand on that...

If it did pop on its own in the heat, can you imagine the horror of simultaneous popping that Native Americans, who first discovered that hot corn popped, felt was unleashed on them? So much so, that they came to the conclusion, as people do, that it was angry gods popping out of corn kernels. Excuse the blasphemy, and if you can't excuse it, target a certain Red Indian called the-one-that-unleashed-gods-fury or something!! Not me.

In case you are interested, the particular kind of corn that pops is unfortunately not named after the Native American, it has a predictably boring name - Zeya Mays Averta - not surprising!

Anyway, on to the main point - would it pop if it got hot?

Ok, here's the science. See, inside each little kernel, there's a little teeny weenie bit of water and when it gets hot enough, the water boils and turns into steam which is highly pressurised and has nowhere to go. The starch in the kernel expands and expands and expands to the point where the kernel finally explodes - voila, the corn pops. This can only happen at the boiling point of water that is 100 Celsius or 212 Fahrenheit.

Logically speaking then, if you went to a really hot place, with a good supply of water and shade for yourself, and planted in the corn seeds and stuck around for a few months, then at the end of it, if you were lucky (ignoring the nasty sun burn and tan), your hard work would pay off and the corn would begin to pop by itself.

And I am not making this up! Because it has happened before. In a legend.

There is a legend in Nebraska that in the "Year of the Striped Weather", at some point in the late 1800s, the sun was scorching hot, so so hot that the all the corn began to pop in the fields.

Ok, I would stop here, but I think it’s only fair that you hear the rest of the legend. It might sound unbelievable so the condition on which I'm pasting the below is that you MUST USE YOUR IMAGINATION!

Popcorn Balls

There is a Nebraska legend that the popcorn ball is actually a product of the Nebraska weather. It supposedly invented itself during the "Year of the Striped Weather" which came between the years of the "Big Rain" and the "Great Heat" where the weather was both hot and rainy. There was a mile strip of scorching sunshine and then a mile strip of rain. On one farm, there were both kinds of weather. The sun shone on this cornfield until the corn began to pop, while the rain washed the syrup out of the sugarcane. The field was on a hill and the cornfield was in a valley. They syrup flowed down the hill into the popped corn and rolled it into great balls with some of them hundreds of feet high and looked like big tennis balls at a distance. You never see any of them now because the grasshoppers ate them all up in one day on July 21, 1874.

- from American Eats, by Nelson Algren, published by University of Iowa Prewss, 1992

So finally, I think we can come to the conclusion that unless, technology advanced to the stage that we'd be farming on the sun, due to there being no place on the Earth as a result of population explosion which is not in the least unlikely, the corn wont pop in a hot field. Sorry Insha.

Sana
x

ps: if you want to ask me a random question - ask away!!

Funny thing, inspiration!

2009-03-22T17:37:00.002Z

Not two minutes ago did I say I needed inspiration - and now, two minutes later, I've got it!

I love the mysterious ways inspiration works in. Paolo Coelho, in his books, says taht if you want something really bad, the universe conspires to make it happen for you. We may call it just luck, chance or being at the right place at the right time - but who knows, perhaps the energies in this larger-than-life universe do conspire to make things work for us.

I've been thinkng about my blog, I even started writing half a dozen times but found that I couldnt string more than two or three sentences together. I have a dozen unfinshed entries lying abandoned and disheartened in my archive. Inspite of this, I never asked for inspiration. Now when I need an out let desperately and therefore needed inspiration to write deperately - here it is!

Obviously, this is not the real thing - I've got a plan and it will be rolled out soonish!

Sana
x

To my blog

2009-03-22T17:30:00.002Z

I miss you!!!

I think about you all the time

I would never leave you like this

So I will be back :)

love love
sana

I'm hating not writing anymore - I wish I could be inspired to write again.

Checkers with my Grand dad

2008-12-26T01:33:00.003Z

My Grand dad is an eccentric old man. This summer he had the pleasure of my company - and I, his. It was probably the best summer I have ever had.

He's lived through wars, travelled the country, memorised the dictionary, donated his high-school certificate in the name of humanity and mastered the games of rummy, bridge and chinese checkers.

He had plenty to say and I listened with rapt attention. I laughed with him and mused plenty over his antiquated and remarkable view of the world, which, to be fair, deserves a dedicated blog! We then had plent of warm siesta's under the sun and played lots of checkers and rummy. I loved all the pictures we took!

Thats the trees we sat under taking in the cheerful sun! It was purpose built by my nanaba;it really distresses him that the tree doesn't flower.

Whenever he felt the sun was two bright I always obliged by lending him my shades. A real man is never afraid towear PINK!THe legendary game of checkers that we spent hours playing.I love this one! He fell asleep while reading to me the memoirs of Bertie Wooster! Personal favorite. One minute he was reading, the next he was snoring like he's never even been reading!!

2008-12-26T01:08:00.003Z

I've recently begun asking myself a question: If i could do anything I wanted to in the world - without any consideration - without having to worry about livelihood, boudaries, rights and wrongs and wot-nots - what would I do? Would I still be studying towards the degree I am doing? Would I still want to work where I will soon be working?

Probably not...

So is my life then exactly how I want it to be?

Probably not...

I'm not really living my ideal life. In my ideal world I would be on the stage, enchanting my audience, and drowning in the shouts of Encore! Or perhaps I'd be exploring the world and capuring it in a frame. In the ideal world.

Maybe, if I did get this perfect world of mine the stage would lose its charm and I'd crave for something else. Perhaps travelling the world would become tiresome, and I'd long for routine.

Is there anybody out there who is living their Utopia? I have a question for them. Once Utopia is found is it still Utopia? Or do Utopians too long for something else - their Utopia?

Can man ever be pleased with his lot in life?

I have a criminal mind

2008-11-27T13:18:00.003Z

Excusez moi, if I make myself bold and speak in honesty. Yes, I do happen to possess a mind that has criminal inclinations - not that I have stepped out and tripped an old lady or poured salt over a harmless slug making its tedious crawl home-wards.

But every so often I find myself thinking - What if I salted that slug? What if, accidentally (of course) I happen to step on one? Which would be worse - stepping on it while wearing stilettos or flats?

And equally often, I wonder what would happen if I did actually indulge in making my thoughts happen for real.

Every time I walk past a busker on the Tube, I instinctively look at the change he's managed to collect, in spite of his horrid entertaining skills. And I wonder to myself if anyone would be cruel enough to steal his hard earned cash - well, it would be quite easy to do this you see. They don't necessarily have electric fencing surrounding their collection boxes. And come to think of it, it wouldn't be very hard to pick the bowl and run - it would take the busker forever to put down his guitar, gather his senses and run after the petty thief. And I've come to the conclusion that this is do-able. Would I do it myself? Erm, lets leave it at that!

Ok, my criminal thoughts don't stop here..... While waiting for the tube/train everyday I take great care to leave a 1 metre distance between myself and the edge of the platform. Why? Well, what if some one pushed me!! I can't imagine why any person would be overcome by an exceptionally violent urge to give little me a nudge and tip me off the platform, but WHAT IF?! Just in case someone might be thinking like me, I dig my feel into the ground (figuratively) and keep my distance.

The more I think about this the more evidence I find which would surely class me as criminal!

As simple as this?

2008-10-22T10:38:00.011+01:00

So I'm wondering how it works. One wakes up in the morning, shuffles out of bed, looks skeptically in the mirror and says, "OH-MY-GOD, it all makes sense now, I'm a guy. All these years I've suffered in my girl skin when I was always a guy. And OH-MY-GOD, looking at my face from this angle, I'm soooo totally a guy!!! That's it I'm off to the surgeon. The days of being trapped in girl skin are so over!"

Is that how it works?? Simple as??

Personally, I wouldn't be surprised if it really did work that way. Given how this world has evolved to make way for a million and one phobias - what's in a girl thinking she might actually be a bloke?! Nah, nothing wrong with that! - we'll just give the condition a name and get on with it!! Seriously though - here's a task for you - toddle over this website (http://phobialist.com/index.html) that will, in 5 minutes, turn you into a living miracle - one person, 137 phobias. And a minute ago you were thinking you were normal?! Ignorance, terrible thing!!

Ok moving back to me now. See I was thinking the other day - 20 years from now, I might wake up one morning, slightly miffed at mother nature. Distressed I would ask her, " Why oh why did you make me Indian? You of all the people in the whole wide wide world must have known what I am inside!"

"What are you inside, child?," I'm guessing she'd ask.

"You know how Chinese I feel inside, and you still made me Indian. I mean, it wasn't even like you had a quota of Chinese people you were allowed to make or anything. Infact you filled the world with them, they are everywhere, even in Mauritia! Why the unfairness? Why me?" That's possibly how my complaint would be contructed. Add the expressions, the voice and the tears. And a scowl. Maybe a bit of nail biting.

And mother nature would smile down at me and says, " My dear child, don't you know? These days the doctors can even turn you Chinese! You feel Chinese? Go, be Chinese now! There is a way!

"Wohooo," I say and " Weheeyy," I say. I can finally be me!

It's going to be as simple as that!

I even did some grafitti to prove my point!

Its a mad, mad world. Mad.

Sana
x
Ps: I hope my blog doesn't upset people. I have nothing against the Chinese or the Indian or the Mauritious or the bloke who thinks he's a girl! I love them. And for the record I have nothing against those with 137 phobias. I come in peace.

A feeling never felt before.

2008-10-12T23:00:00.015+01:00

There comes a time in everyone's life, a time when one feels a feeling they've never felt before. I've felt that feeling innumerable times. You know the kind of feeling I'm talking about. Like a child when he discovers he can twiddle his toes.

Some people get the same thrill and excitement over and over again, like my grand-dad who loves looking up the meaning of a complicated word. The feeling he gets everytime he learns a new word - it's new each time.

See there's no age limit for this feeling - it comes to the young and old. There's no height limit for this feeling - it even comes to the tall and the short. In short, it captures one and all!

This blog is about how this feeling, let's call it "it", came out of the blue and sat itself in my little 2 year old niece.

With my camera I captured her expression at the exact moment that "it" surfaced!

I took my niece out to play on the merry-go-ground. It was a shiny day and the sun was out. I failed to consider that the merry-go-round might be a little more than just pleasantly warm and probably scorching. With the best of intentions I sat Zehra on the merry-go-round. What she felt then, I guess she didn't quite know herself.

She looked confused and perplexed. What was that she's just felt? She'd never before been stung by the sun! She said - nothing. What could she say? She'd felt a feeling she'd never felt before. From where would she find the appropriate vocabulary!

Her face though spoke a million words!

Love love

Sana

The perfect match - a story of the symbiotic relationship between a blog and a camera.

2008-09-23T09:07:00.014+01:00

You know how when you were a little girl (that is if you were blessed enough to arrive into this world as a girl) you had a Barbie and a doll house and you loved them both to bits. Every spare moment was taken up by Barbie thoughts.Every time you bought a dress for yourself, you wished you could get it in barbie size. And then one Eid or Christmas or Diwali your mum and dad got you just what you loved - one more Barbie!

You remember how from the moment you unwrapped the new Barbie the old Barbie became ex-Barbie and had to vacate the doll house with a 2 minute prior notice - never to be seen on the premises again? Ex-Barbie sat around in your room, in a box, under the bed. It was there, somewhere in the background - just never in your perfect story. You might have had to dig it out a few months later, when your new Barbie threw a tantrum for a companion. But in the mean time it was out of sight and out of mind.

I might be an adult now, and excuse me for my honesty, but I still work in the same way!

See my 'Barbie' was blogging. I began blogging in June. My blog and I were inseparable - I could almost say we were soul mates. I knew when my blog was feeling lonely and unused, I always knew. We had a bond.

And then in August, as is clearly visible from my blogging activity, I got my new 'Barbie' - my very own SLR Camera. My blog went into a box, under my bed. It was there, somewhere in the background - just never in my perfect story.

What did my SLR mean to me? Ok, say you have a football stadium full of babies and they are ALL crying. Apparantly a mum can recognise her baby's cry, so if you left a mum in the stadium to find her baby, she'd apparantly do it before the blink of an eye. (Obviously we'd need to give her time margin for walking across the field, dodging babies.)

That's what my camera meant to me. No matter where it was lying, if someone else picked it up, I'd know instantly! Thats how close we were. It was my baby. You can imagine how distant my blog and I had become.

We were strangers until, ofcourse, now. Now my camera needs a companion. All my pictures had a story and the story needed space and the space was waiting in the blog. It is a symbiotic relationship. The pictures get a platform and the blog gets attention.

It sure took its time but I'm happy with this arrangement!

Sana
x

On holidays and unemployment

2008-08-05T11:24:00.004+01:00

The 8th day of the 8th month of the year 08, considered lucky by the Chinese, marks the day of the start of the olympics, the restless faces of 9000 exuberant chinese couples tying the knot, the day I go on holiday and the day I become unemployed.

08/08/08 - Mixed feelings. One whole year of fantastic experiences draws to an end as my internship at Ernst & Young reaches the finish line. I've had a great year but I'm also glad to go.

For the next couple of months its going to be all about me, my hammock, 12 hours of electricity a day, summer breezes, sunshine, dragon flies, my SLR, walks down rickety country paths, mini adventures, superstitions, gripping reads, curious birds knocking on my window, street kids with mis-matched slippers, little red mosquito bite bumps and the occasional cow.

I am really excited to be going away on holiday! And what a perfect time to have my fancy camera - to be able to capture all the weird and wonderful nuances of emotions, colours and feelings feels great!

On being unemployed - darn it - I'll have to go back to the paltry student existence....Farewell to M&S lunches and welcome Pot Noodles!

Love love

Sana

I'm cold!!

2008-07-30T14:59:00.003+01:00

Ok, I've been confined to a tiny room with no windows for the last few weeks. Its summer outside, but in my world it is still mid winter. Today is really cold. I hate coffee, but I've got a mug of coffee in my hands.

Because I keep warm by holding on to the warm mug. That's what I've had to resort to. And its mid summer. I'm als very sleepy, the coffee isn't helping.

love love
sana
x

My food addiction

2008-07-28T11:06:00.003+01:00

Let me start with a disclaimer! This might be a sensitive issue to people out there who are anorexic, bulimic, overweight, obese, underweight, horizontally challenged, chubby and anymore related words you can think of. For those of you that are perfectly normal - THERE IS NO SUCH THING! Normality is subjective - I think I'm pretty normal (as in size wise) but alot of people would think I was grossly underweight.

Anyway, here's news for you - I am addicted to food, yes I most certainly am addicted to food. But my food addiction differs in more than one ways. Well, for a start - I say I'm addicted to food but am considered almost anorexic by people. My mum looks at me with sad eyes, as though every time she sees me is the last time she will see me. Because I will evaporate into nothingness. Because I barely eat. And eat very little.

While that is still true, and I like the attention I get from my mum, eventhough it might not be for the best of reasons, I have become addicted to food!

It started with Japanese crackers. I ate them one fine Wednesday morning about 6 months ago. For the rest of the month I had them EVERY SINGLE DAY until I could no longer stand the sight of them, or for that matter even the sight of a Japanese person (yes its true). I then discovered Galaxy Minstrels - oh how I loved the flavour!! What happens next? I eat a pack every single day for weeks until just the thought of them, just a teeny weeny thought brought about the severe need to throw up.

As you can probably guess, I had to move on. As one does. This time I moved on to Bounty. Choclocate.Coconut filling. Mmmm, very nice. Except I did they very same this time. I'm not one for learning from mistakes, as is clearly evident. This one actially lasted longer. I loved Bounty. It was my very first thought as I woke up and often enough the very last. Note 'often enough' and not 'always'. This is because I like to reflect on weird and wonderful bits of experiences, thoughts, ideas, geometric patterns and God before going to bed. A potential blog entry, so I shall reluctantly refrain from expanding on the aforementioned.

Well, now I hate Bounty!

It's all about sushi now.......................................

mmm sushi

mmmm

Love love

Sana

Things to do and people to meet before I die

2008-07-18T13:13:00.006+01:00

So, I thought that the first step to doing what I want to do is to know what I want to do. And this led to the creation of what you are about the read below: my very own list of things to do and people to see before I kick the bucket.

1) Meet a Japanese person - only because there are so few of them! I've got Chinese friends, Korean friends, maybe Taiwanese friends too. But have I got Japanese friends? No. Can I find Japanese people? No. And that's why I want to meet one. (Well, I've met one at work but he doesn't count)

2)Travel to Japan - This will increase the probability of running into a Japanese person! And I love the fancy gadgets and fancy hairdo's that they do.

3) Learn to decide what I want when I walk into a shop - Ok, say I have a couple of hundred pounds to spend. I pat myself on the back for the disposable income I've got and walk into a shop feeling mighty pleased. After no more than a few steps my brain cells get clogged up due to over use and I retrace my steps out of the shop. What in the world could possibly cause such a severe breakdown you might wonder?

Well, I NEVER know what I want. Let me tell you from experience that if ever a thing was disturbing enough to clog up perfectly healthy and remarkablely clever brain cells such as mine, it would be not knowing what one wants. I want shoes (black trainers and green crocodile print heels), I also want a bicycle (with all the appropriate gear), a digital SLR camera (with a couple of lenses thrown in), a holiday (to India, Japan, Malaysia and Dubai, and New York during the November sales), a new pair of jeans (skinny jeans), and guitar lesssons.

I can't buy all of these, can I? I need to decide what I want most. But I want them all the most!!! So what happens next?? I have a massive mental block, cells getting clogged left, right and centre and what-not. Result? I turn around, walk out of the shops, away from the temptation, empty handed, pocket loaded.

For the spendthrifts - you might want to embrace this strategy, it will help you save more!

4) Meet a person with a Chinese mum and an African dad. Only to see what they look like - again, they are scarce.

5)Meet an Indian person who speaks fluent chinese!

6)Get over me fear of creepy crawlies - just saying the word's given me shivers.

7)Oh - while we're at it, I've got a random question that has come to my mind - How priceless and how endangered would you be if you knew all the secrets of all the people in this world!!?!

8) Erm, I think that's all for now.

I feel so light having got that list off my chest!

Love love

Sana

The story of my life and another story

2008-07-17T09:50:00.008+01:00

Not sure if there is such a thing as neutral feeling - where you are neither happy not sad, neither chirpy nor dull, neither frowning nor smiling. If there is such a thing as a neutral feeling, that's the feeling I'm feeling today. Thank you for asking!

But really, I should be feeling quite happy. The stamp that I'd ordered 20 days ago has finally arrived. Wohoo! Weheey! Yes thats how long it takes to buy a stamp. And this is no ordinary stamp. It stamps a number and then rotates the number-printing-thing-or-what-ever-else-it-is-called to the next number. Its hi-tech, which probably explains why it took so long to obtain. (I'm trying to be sarcastic here.)

So, you can probably now see why any sane human would be jumping for joy with a smile wider than the limitations of the mouth. But am I jumping for joy and smiling a smile bigger than the one my mouth can manage? I'm not.

Ok just to make this post a wee bit more cheery, here's a random story from yesterday:

I was waiting for some legal documents to be stamped at a goverment office. My appointment was at 2.30 but as is the case in all government offices - I wasn't attended to until much later. After about 4 hours of waiting I ran out of things to do to keep myself busy. So at about five thirty I said " Enough is enough" and decided to check if my thigh was thin enough to fit the space between two seats. Don't give me that look!! People get into the Guiness Book for sillier reasons!! Heard of the woman who can pull her eyeballs out?? I bet you're now glad that I didn't try something like that - otherwise you would have had to read about me pulling my eyeballs out!

Anyway so I discovered I had the thinnest thighs in my family. Surprise!

So here's the funny thing - the harassed looking security guard comes up to me and says, "Please get your leg out from between those seats. People do that all the time and I have to call up the ambulance to get their legs out. It's nearly six. I don't want have to make a last minute ambulance call!"

And I thought my experiment was quite a novel idea - People do it all the time in government waiting rooms!

Love love

Sana
x

The joys of losing

2008-07-15T08:35:00.005+01:00

OK, maybe it happens to everyone. Maybe I'm not alone. I find myself losing things I don't want to lose and not losing items that I wouldn't mind losing. Almost as though these items that walk away from me do so knowingly - just to tick me off for not loving them enough. Perhaps?

Yesterday, for the second time in the last month I lost my debit card. This would have been the third time I lost it in the last three years. That's one card a year. In the last three years I have also lost my driver's license three times. That's one card a year. I've lost my university ID two times in the last three years. Doing better there!!! Probably because it costs £10 to replace it.

As much as I try, I just can't seem to find a way to make myself more aware of my belongings. So the last time I lost my wallet I decided that I would divide and rule. I put all my cards in different parts of my bag. I now have a coin purse, a travel card wallet, and an 'other cards wallet'. The only thing I didn't realise then was that I now had more things to keep track of. Not for long though, I realised that yesterday, when I lost my coin purse.

Unfortunately, my coin purse also had my debit card in it. Because Maestro is the new money. I had to pull myself away from the pot noodles in Sainsbury's, because I had no cash and no card - I realised that my coin purse had gone missing.

Traced back my steps - in my mind - I have a feeling I dropped it in the rubbish bin as I was leaving work. All night I dreamt about sifting through piles of rubbish, banana peels, left over chinese take away, packets of crisps, a dead rat?! and crumpled paper looking for a little white coin purse with a pink glittery bow.

The restless night was enveloped by a moody morning that couldn't decide whether to pick sunny clothes or cloudy clothes. A globally significant decision, one to alter our lives. So I let ithe morning take its time making up its mind - the last thing I wanted to do was to get into Mother Nature's bad books! I had more important things on my mind anyway.

I walked in to work, and what should my gaze land upon? My very own coin purse, it sat there, there was even an imaginary comforting glow radiating from it. I've checked it now, and all its contents are safe!

And that's how my day started!

Love Love
Sana
x

A Murder of Crows

2008-07-14T14:40:00.003+01:00

Well hullo there,

Welcome to my blog and my very first entry! Since this is my first venture into the realm of blogging, its only fair, and of course polite, that I introduce myself and my page.

Let's start with the name!

See, while growing up, English was my favourite subject and I loved collective nouns. The one that stuck in my head, the one I always wanted to use but never found the opportune moment, the one I've always wanted to use, was the collective noun for crows - A Murder of Crows. This one really fascinated me. There was some thing dark,eerie and deadly about it. It had drama and character, unlike, say, a flock of sheep, or a cackle of geese!

Of course you are free to differ in opinion, although, I can't seem to see why you would differ. I am obviously right in saying that a murder of crows is exceptionally dramatic! And you'd have to obviously be quite dull to not see the drama!!

So any way, all my life I've patiently waited for the chance to use it and finally this chance popped up in the form of a potential blog title!! I was excited by the notion of having my very own blog with my very favourite collective noun for a title! I quickly set up a new account. I excitedly typed in my blog name only to discover that SOME ONE ELSE HAD TAKEN IT!!!!

The horror, the anger, the emotions I felt - I cannot express.

When I finally recovered I decided I'd go for the next best - therefore - A Smack of Jellyfish

Thats the story of my blog and oh-how-I'd-like-to-meet-the-person-who-stole-my-dream-collective-noun-blog-name. Show your self if you dare!!!!

Love Love

Sana

ps: that was the introduction to my blog.....more about the author coming soon!