Saturday was interesting…

I had been asked to speak on journalism at a career guidance conference organised by my school OGA. But I had intended on spending the whole of Saturday with some friends, so I referred them to a schoolmate who was a journalist up until a few months back before she got hitched.

Come Saturday morning, I buzzed the president of the OGA, only to find out that they’d had no luck in finding a replacement. She reassured me that I’d be done by 11.30 am, and since I was to meet up with my friends for Transformers2, at 12.00pm, I figured what the heck! All I had to do was get up on the old school stage and speak to a bunch of brats about journalism, right?

Wrong…

11.00 am, I found myself sitting at a panel at some place that did not remotely resemble the school assembly hall. The other past pupils on the panel were all my seniors, and were going through prepared speeches, one even had a powerpoint presentation! I was completely unprepared! Now, I could have jotted down some important points on the palm of my hand while waiting to be introduced to the podium, but I was too engrossed in what the other speakers had to say and thinking to myself in turn, how far more interesting and exciting my career path was to theirs! I know, that’s terribly cocky of me but you can’t blame me for thinking that way. The two who were at the podium before me spoke about being a desk lawyer or lecture! Yawn… All I could think was- man, that’s dull!

When it was my turn at the podium, I just spoke off the top of my head. And now, I feel I could’ve said a lot more… Dang!

Right after I was done, instead of returning to my seat at the panel, I hot-footed it straight to the exit. On my way out I was given a little gift, sort of like a token of appreciation for speaking at the conference, my first thought on receiving it was- I hope it’s a pen and not some silly dust-collecting memorabilia. That’s just me for you, I find ornaments useless… if it doesn’t do anything, what’s the point????

Transformers 2!

With all the last minute additions, we ended up with 7 guys and 2 girls. Four Kottu bloggers, two non-Kottu bloggers and three lame duckies. The movie was good. Except for when Hish, and PaparéBoy, wolf whistled whenever Megan Fox appeared on screen (hooligans!). The WhacksteR took it upon himself to censor the kissing scenes for me by promptly obstructing my view with the back of his hand. Makuluwo was the only one among us who didn’t enjoy the movie. As for the lame duckies… of what I gathered from the ‘after-movie-discussion’ they seemed to have appreciated the movie mostly ‘cause Megan Fox was acting in it. *cough-typical-cough*

Few ‘hours’ of lunch later and one guy short, we crammed ourselves like sardines in a can, in Mackie’s car and headed off to the only coffee joint in Colombo that’s easy on the wallet- Coffee Stop.

After drowning their coffee, the guys got to talking about how to pick up girls. The concentration, the solemn nods of concurrence, the intense look across their faces- anyone passing by would have assumed they were discussing something of gravity, like politics or even the Armageddon. To my female ears, it sounded more like they were discussing fishing for bass- the right bait, how long you should wait, how to reel in the biggest baddest bass out there… And all this from 6 guys who are all single! Ha! Shows how much their theories work!

And finally they ask the two girls, what the best pick up line would be. Did they honestly think we’d share that valuable bit of information?

Hyperchondriac

We’ve all heard of hypochondriacs but there doesn’t seem to be a term for those of us who don’t care much about our health or who are in denial about being sick.

So I’ve coined the term ‘hypERchondriac’, a logical antonym. And that’s what I am. Well not that I should care much about my health given that I have an incredible immune system. Although as I type up this post I’m suffering from the symptoms of the blasted viral flu that’s being doing its rounds- Fever, weak muscles that have rendered me immobile, trembling, breathing in large loud gasp like Darth Vader and a sore throat.

Why has my incredible immune system failed me? Read on… (except for those of you with a weak constitution. You have been warned)

Went to bed late on Friday, so after just three hours of sleep I found myself rushing around a hospital all morning ’cause my mom had to undergo surgery. Getting drenched in the rain in search of a pharmacy that sold her particular brand of pressure pills and the over all fatigue must have made me susceptible to the flu virus floating around the damned hospital.

Sunday the symptoms kicked in but as always I paid no attention to them, and flatly refused to see a doctor. Come Monday I felt I was on my death bed, I just wanted to die. So I caved in… To the docs it was!

Doctors are sadist I tell you! He prescribed some HUGE yucky pills. So with my revulsion of pills that has lead to several, hour long show-downs with them before breaking them into teeny tiny pieces and swallowing them, you can bet I couldn’t keep these meds down. And since my only nutrition intake has been tea, I puke it all out. I’m stomach’s been empty for about 2 days now.

I just HATE pills. First I tried taking one and then stuffing my mouth with chocolate. Unfortunately, my taste buds aren’t working right making the dark Toblerone taste absolutely revolting!

I might have painted a rather ugly picture of my sis to some of the bloggers at a recent meet up… I feel a bit guilty about that now. She only goes loco when she’s stressed out. She’s been checking on me at odd hours of the night and solved my I-hate-meds-so-much-that-I-puke-them-out problem by crushing the tablets and mixing it with honey for me. And that worked brilliantly!

Anyhow, having an immune system like mine, I should be up and about soon enough. Although I was looking forward to watching my blood being drawn out…

Trapped

More poetry up… Trapped

On an unrelated note, I’ve been reading up on the situation in Iran. Apparently the sound of gun fire could be heard all though the night and well into the morning.

Reminded me of just a few months back when, following a report of an attack by an LTTE aircraft, the power was cut off in Colombo and the outskirts, while the Sri Lankan forces randomly shot into the gloomy evening sky.

At home we could hear the firing like explosions in the distance, with the glass sliding doors rattling along with every kaboom. I know it doesn’t quite compare to what’s happening in Iran but, it’s the detachment I felt while reading it, that motivated me to write this quick post.

Last year when I worked on a story about the riots between the Palestinians and Israelis, I felt a sense of empathy… While I still can empathize with them I can’t help feeling a certain degree of detachment… which feels good. Yes, it sounds terribly wrong but what I mean to say is -it’s good to know we won’t be experiencing that anytime soon (hopefully).

MetalHeads to the left of me, girls to the right

It’s been over a year since I’ve set up this particular blog. This one’s my third in my 6 years of blogging and if there’s one thing that I’ve found interesting about this one, it’s that people seem inclined to believe the author is a guy.

In an attempt to figure out why and how my blog gives off that vibe, I’ve asked quite a few people, including some of my close friends who chanced on my blog and assumed The Messiah of Madness was a guy. They offered that it was the contents and the title of the blog that had lead them to that surmise.

Well I’m The Puppeteer now, although I don’t suppose it quite helps dispel the guyish vibe Oh well, you’ll never find me titling my blog GirlyZone or I♥Pink! Perish the thought!

Prodding around a bit more and scrolling through comments, I’ve managed to draw up the general persona my blog seems to project.

A goth-like guy.

Some admitted to categorizing me as such ’cause of my predilection to Heavy Metal.

It’s quite fascinating really. The idea of girls liking heavy metal is apparently out of element. But I guess  I can understand where they’re coming from if the Siva Hela gig held a few months back is anything to go by. The guys to girls ratio would probably have been 8:1 .

And that being said, besides myself, there was just one other girl who Headbanged. That is if you exclude the bizarrely dressed foreign lady who stood with her arms firmly beside her and nodded her head rapidly. Watching her reminded me of a wind-up mechanical chicken, except this one was on the fritz.

What people have to get straight is, while I do listen to Heavy Metal, I do appreciate other genres of music. I listen to Alternate Rock, Jazz, the classics as way back at the 50’s (who doesn’t like the Doo wop?), even Beethoven! I like all sorts of music, the only exceptions being Hip Hop and RnB *shudder*

If you didn’t notice the title of this post is a rip off of ‘Stuck In The Middle With You‘ by Stealer Wheel. I wasn’t kidding when I said that I’ve listened to about all the genres of music before deciding that Metal rules!

As for the ‘goth’ bit- Apparently, all guys who like Heavy Metal dress up like goths.

Oh well, I guess we’re all at the mercy of stereotypes, there’s nothing much that can be done to diffuse them. Of course, stereotyping isn’t actually detrimental, it only becomes venomous when it’s done will intentions that are… ridiculous. Such as a hierarchy in society or colour bar.

A friend (who was rather ticked off at not being able to figure me out) insisted that I make a profile of sorts. But since there’s enough and more about me in my posts, I’ve put up a picture instead. Pic here. And yeah… I’ve added a filter… Tad apprehensive about having a proper picture on the net… *shrug*

Finding a picture wasn’t easy, figured I’d fetch one off my FaceBook profile pics but then I don’t really have that many… What can I say, I’m not one of those shallow self-absorbed types who have pages and pages of profile pics Heck, my profile pictures don’t even fit the quota of 10 pics per page!

Anyways, that’s one of my most recent pictures. Hopefully I don’t look like a guy in that one.

Hotel Keralafonia

This song cracked me up! Figured I’d share it with the rest of you.

Enjoy! (Check out the lyrics below)

Lyrics-

On the road to Trivandrum

Coconut oil in my hair

Warm smell of avial

Rising up through the air

Up ahead in the distance

I saw a pink tube-light

My tummy rumbled, I felt weak and thin

I had to stop for a bite

There he stood in the doorway

Flicked his mundu in style

And I was thinking to myself

I don’t like the look of his smile

Then he lit up a petromax

Muttering ‘No power today’

More Mallus down the corridor

I thought I heard them say

Welcome to the Hotel Kerala-fonia

Such a lousy place,

Such a lousy place

Such a sad disgrace,

Plenty of bugs at the Hotel Kerala-fonia

Any time of year

Any time of year

It’s infested here

His finger’s stuck up his nostril

He’s got a big, thick mustache

He makes an ugly noise

And he just laughs

Buxom girls clad in pavada

Eating banana chips

Some roll their eyes, and

Some roll their hips

I said to the manager

My room’s full of mice

He said,

Don’t worry, saar,I sending you

meen karri, brandy and ice

And still those voices were crying from far away

Wake you up in the middle of the night

Just to hear them pray

Save us from the Hotel Kerala-fonia

What a lousy place,

What a lousy place

Such a sad disgrace

Trying to live at the Hotel Kerala-fonia

It is no surprise

It is no surprise

That it swarms with flies

The blind man was pouring

Stale sambar on rice

And he said

We are all just actors here

In Silk Smitha-disguise

And in the dining chamber

We gathered for the feast

We stab it with our steely knives

But we just can’t cut that beef

Last thing I remember

I was writhing on the floor

That cockroach in my appam-stew was the culprit, I am sure !!!

Relax, said the watchman

This enema will make you well

And his friends laughed as they held me down

God’s Own Country ? Oh, Hell!