Cats-atrophe

So..we saw Cats. By we I mean friends from grad school in the Twin Cities, and me from the comfort of my recliner. We would have had to shell out 20 bucks each but luckily it became available for rental for six bucks. That was too much as well but ok.

What.A.Mess. 

Seriously, what a goddamn mess. The weird acting, the random fur and whiskers, the occasional disturbing disrobing. Rebel Wilson singing into her own tail. Judi Dench looking like she is at the end of her life. Idris Elba, that man needs a better agent. You know how there are things that are such a train wreck that they become funny. Not this movie.

The funnest part of this (after the wine) was going to reddit for the reviews. Gems include:

"This movie was not released. It escaped."

"I was never a cats person. After this movie, I am not sure I am a movies person."

"After watching this movie, I became an atheist. No loving god would allow this to exist."

It's still unclear to us if the butthole cut is real or not, the production house is refusing to confirm or deny it. I would sign the petition to take Tom Hooper's Oscar back. It's going to be hard to unsee parts of it. I can't recommend this movie at all. Don't watch it. Save your time and your eyes.

How to break a brown girl

I wrote this at https://quntfront.com/2016/05/10/how-to-break-a-brown-girl/
(Go read. With humor)

"Well for starters, you take her out of her (brown) country and put her in a white one. This way you make her realize she is brown, a lower-ranked pawn in the chessboard of colors. This is just the beginning. Repeatedly and loudly compliment her on her command of the English language, so that she does not forget that she is foreign, that language too is a colonial legacy, over which she has flimsy claim. Ask her if she learned how to speak so fluently from the movies or her parents (because they belong together on the spectrum of parenting)."

Oh Comcast

This is my chat with a Comcast robot (look at the typed word smile, that actually made me a little sad). On my last chat, I even asked it if it was a real person. No response.

Marlitte: Hello! It is my pleasure to assist you today!

SHRUTI: My Issue: I recently disconnected my account and see a credit amount. I would like to know when I will get this and if it will be a check, I need to update the address at which it should be sent.

Marlitte: It sadden me to know that you requested to cancel your service.

Marlitte: However, let me assist you with this.

Marlitte: Let us work together for us to address and resolve your concern today.

Marlitte: By the way, how's your weekend so far? I bet you are having a good time. Tomorrow is a holiday! (smile) It's a long weekend, right?

Baarish

(Things that may just be funny to me)

All the missing

I remember so much from my childhood. I remember the childhood I did not have. I remember the childhood I did have. The one that was, for all its warts and flaws, a childhood. I can see that clearly, from the lens of adulthood, closer to thirty than ever. A new year starting is always a place of reflection and remembrance.

November, or that month when I forget my name

It is ironic, the caffeine that kicks in four hours too late after class, one hour too close to bedtime. It is unusual to feel this awake. At this point in the semester, I have occasionally forgotten my name, often the date, and continuously the reason why I am doing this. To feel awake is an unexpected gift, I am uncertain what to do with it.

The tundra lives and flourishes. Temperatures are in ghastly lows and breaking winter records of all times. Meanwhile, we swathe ourselves in coats and caps and leg warmers and gloves and scarves, till motion is almost impossible, and somehow we trudge on. Waiting at the bus stop is an exercise in patience. The snow is beautiful, especially by the street lights. There is something about the orange overhead glow that makes the streets look like they belong to a different era. Of course, there is something about slipping on ice that takes away the beauty from it.

Trainspotting

This is a post from when I was working. I used to travel a fair bit and unexpected things would often happen. In this post, I recount one of the more unusual adventures I had, while trying to board a train from a small town.

The interesting thing about my work is that a lot of interesting, unexpected things happen. Some of these are fun on the spot, for some I spot the fun much later. One of my recent train journeys is definitely something in which I saw the humor much later. Much, much later.

I had to board a Jan Shatabdi train early in the morning from this town in Punjab. I recall from previous attempts that I had to run for my coach in the train in the past because nothing is marked (unlike the Delhi platform where the train comes to stop at specific points for specific coaches). The coaches in trains are connected but I often get confused and so I always aim to board my coach. I had thought the confusion at the platform was bad. I was wrong. 

Picture updates

Work desk became much more fun

Dear Diary

Finally Target has journals that I love. Thankfully they are very expensive and so I am unlikely to be carrying these around anytime soon. But they fascinate me. 

Mondays

Our workplace has moved down a couple of blocks, because the last one is under construction. This has a large courtyard and the rooms are more 'open-air' and less (no) air-conditioning, which lends for a good look in the 40 degrees heat. The shine on my face has never been brighter, the number of times I spray myself with whatever body spray/perfume/hand sanitiser is close never higher. The bathroom is a little far away (directly behind the building at the opposite end and a bit of a fun walk by a drain). One of these days I am going to post about bathrooms and sanitation hassles. I used it yesterday and promptly got locked in (the knob is broken and rusted). I banged and banged on the door but it is so far away that no one could feasibly hear me. I figured people would realize I am missing in a while but it started to get claustrophobic and I didn't want to be stuck in it. I could have broken the door because it was so flimsy but how would that look? Everyone would know me as the girl who broke a bathroom door. Did I want to be that person? On the first day of work at what are rooms sub-leased from another company? I wasn't sure. Luckily I could claw my hand out from the lower half of the door, reach the knob and get out. But now I have a new thing to worry about, thank you new office building.

But my bathroom adventures for the day continued. As I was showering, I saw the following beauty two feet away on the wall.

I am proud to say I finished showering and walked out and came back to take a picture to show the front desk staff. This was an emergency, there was no time for my usual miming tactics. Meagan may have scoffed at me but perhaps Meagan and I won't be friends now (are you reading this Meagan). Anyhow, the front desk lady very kindly came, by which time it had started to return home through the giant opening in the wall. She then put some Raid on it and sealed the opening with a regular tape. She smiled a lot and I think she may have been bemused by me. I would have been amused too. I am usually good at slaying my bugs and spiders and roaches (living in a basement apartment in Minnesota which was a bug-fest when 'Spring', cough cough, came b) but this was one fat-legged monster. I suppose I should be better at doing this myself but it truly caught me by surprise. How was your Monday?

Where I mime for a towel and forget what wearing shoes feels like

Miming is our primary method of communication here. My favorite one was enacting a towel in the aisle of a supermarket to a confused and possibly slightly embarrassed salesgirl. When the face towel gestures didn't do it, I pretended to take a bath and rub myself vigorously. She then figured it out and led me to the stack of towels. Which was great except the entire team was standing there and I am pretty sure she thought I was the biggest idiot ever.

***

It feels like my feet have forgotten how to wear shoes. I blame being encased in lined boots for months in the Minnesota winter. I have three pair of shoes and have almost gone through one whole roll of medical tape. At least thirty Band-Aids. I switched from shoes to slippers today and got blisters on my feet, because why not.

***

I have been told (not asked but told) at least six times between the time I left Minneapolis and got here that I am Indian. I have always known that I am Indian but I have not been reminded about it in this way. This  reminds me what a quintessentially Indian face I have.