You truly begin noticing your nail bed only when you're animatedly engaging in a conversation with someone you're looking forward to leave an impression upon. Who'd have thunk that I'm still learning lessons while on a break.

Vacation doesn't quite cut it. I don't like the portmanteau combination for staycation. Wouldn't a vacation in the hotel room also qualify to be a 'staycation'? Break is for Kit-Kat (I'm sorry) and break-ups which are painful and pathetic to discuss and I've nothing really to talk about so, nail bed it is.

In the last 26 hours (or more, perhaps), I've changed a whole bunch of trains, woken up on alarm and skipped my medication two days in a row. I've also converted an amphibian into a verb. For more details on the last one, contact your local doctor of Philosophy. Speaking of some such, I've managed stellar grades for my semester in the research school. Although, I'm pretty sure, everyone else has managed the same as me, it feels good to know that wretched piece of paper has more of a character than me. Naturally, to commemorate it, May and I decided to down far too many cocktails for our own good, at a local watering hole close to our place. I might be tipsy but stiff and upset with the white-girl reception I received upon my drink order- would you like a strawberry frozen? No motherfucker, I'd like mine on the rocks. Frozen's when the sun shines and make no mistake, sun's a bit lost in my life and times (ahem, pun unintended).

Last night (or was it the night before? Jesus, senility), I made far too many food related metaphors for the cast of my life. You who gets to be the 'chola bhatura' of my heart, I miss you sorely. I miss being appreciated and the attention. I also quite miss the my clear skin. Once upon a time, I had inherited my mother's skin. Then, compliments happened and it was followed by inheritance of the paternal genes. It's hullo breakouts and bad face. I can't poke fun at people with acne. Shit just got real.

I've realized this post has gotten exceptionally shallow-er than what I wanted for it to be. To make things better, I'll obsess over Beyonce. Is there anything this woman can't do?



She's going to be responsible for bringing in a revolutionary face to the market of commercial space of home-videos, something a lot of documentary filmmakers have been toying with for a while.

Also, don't think I've mentioned this but it's probably not such a great idea to make friends with people who are from other countries, cities or generally, friends. People have a tendency to be fleeting and they move. They relocate and it is a fucking bad idea in itself to allow someone to know you well and then the process of letting them un-know you. I don't know how gypsies ever did it. I can't manage with VoIP, Snapchat, Facebook and Twitter together. Another cause of worry, point to fill in about insomnia- not induced due to overstudying. Them furry roomies won't stop snoring.

Yeah, I know. I have no real problems currently. I just felt like slapping on the keyboard randomly.

Anyhow, expecting a bunch of nards tomorrow at my place. Alternative being cooping up at the other side's place for a night-out and some grub. Either way, I want to get out of both. That obscure reason why it sucks to be home during vacay-shuns? You can't lock yourself in a room and pretend to be studying while anomalies take over your place in the form of human guests. Who else would land up at someone's place on a cold, foggy morning at 11, but your relatives. (Incase 'you' are reading *this*, how about no?)

Also, is it me or does post-modernism have a new meaning with Maroon 5 and Vevo's latest presentation of Animals? Adam Levine saw Se7en, some Lady Gaga videos on loop and decided to mix these two with his honeymoon tape. Not cool, buddy.