comforter switcheroo

Dear ~ET~

Moved most of my stuff from C2C's house to the new apartment
in Barrington Lakes. SpiceTooth is moving in on Sat. Wanted
to enjoy "ammanama-parading-around" for 3 nights.

Was about to fall asleep in my new boudoir when I detected a
strange smell. I couldn't place it or identify it. I didn't know if
the possum that SpiceTooth and I scarred for life had come
back with its gang for it's sweet revenge when I was all alone.
It started bothering me enough for me to get up and switch
on the light. I stood confused and tried to locate the origin
of the smell for about five minutes before it hit me. The
comforter was not mine.

It is the same color and pattern as your comforter. But
mine is queen-size and smells like the bathrobe of a supermodel
who has been shooting an ad for bath salts all-day. Yours is
twin-size and smells like the undershirt of a construction worker
who has been working in 100F on a Phoenix highway all day.

I dunno how it got switched and I don't want to know. But
we have to exchange the comforters somehow this weekend.
Avoid any funny business with my delectable duvet till then.
Don't try going commando and traumatizing my poor li'l
buttercup blanket.

Thanks
Freezing Funkaboy

JJ blasts Gabtun

Gabtun is being blasted again. After having his ethnicity
questioned by Karunanidhi, his drinking habits are being
criticized by JJ, the supremo of the other big party in
TN politics. I guess she is ticked off that Gabtun is not
a one-hit wonder and that his party continues to split
votes away from ADMK.

Gabtun projects himself as the next MGR - an independent
entity who starts a new party and wins on popular support.
One of his main promises is to destroy corruption (as he
has said in about 1,312,492 words in his movies). The other
promise he has been making to corner the "thaaikulam" vote
is to deliver ration shop provisions directly to the
households.

JJ blasted him in her report saying that one can't trust
his words as "kudi-garan paechu vidinja pochu". She further
said that MGR never touched alcohol in his life and that
someone who is under the influence 24x7 shouldn't even
utter the name of MGR.

As usual, no one knows what prompted JJ to launch the
attack. Maybe Gabtun crank called her after having one
too many shots. Maybe he proposed to fill the void left
by the departure of MGR. Maybe she didn't realize that
his normal pronunciation itself is slurred.

But it should put to rest all the recent talk about
ADMK and DMDK joining hands to rein in the abuses of
DMK. I sincerely wish that some guy in Chennai starts
a C-SPAN style channel to cover Gabtun's speeches in
the legislature.

mini marathon

The dri-fit tshirt is washed, perfumed and folded. The comfy shorts
are right below it. The ArunPandian headband is on top of the pile.
The breathable bandaids for the nipples are in their wrappers near
the sink. The sweatproof nylon socks are resting inside the
endurance-optimized NewBalance shoes. The shoelaces
have been tied according to the height of the arch in
relation to the width of the foot.

Electronic, mechanical, electrical, human, solar-based, off-site
and all other types of alarms have been set to prevent a
Jean-Paul situation. Starbucks barristas are ready with their
gizmos to help the spectators track their favorite runners using
their bibs. The CPD is ready with the barricades, horses, segways,
cars and helicopters. I can already hear the "thwap-thwap" sounds
created by thousands of feet hitting the Chicago roads and can see
the hand-drawn banners. I'm like the kid in the Disney
commercial. I am too excited to sleep!

I remember my first marathon. I was in the fifth standard.
My school (a shout-out to SBOA CBSE Annanagar Chennai TN
600101, please) had organized the Mini Marathon to promote
World Peace (?!). The entry fee was five rupees. I had to
get a note from my teacher before mom realized that I was
serious about running. The race was to start at the Blue
Star intersection (the Annanagar Saravana Bhavan stands
there now) and end at the school grounds.

I had to get up at 0530, put on my white school shorts,
red Pallavan house t-shirt and my trusted canvas shoes. I
even put on a fresh coating of white shoe polish. I had
never been in a race longer than 50 meters. So I had not
heard about training for running or building stamina until
then. I just turned up to run, see if I can outrun my
archrival Godwin and get the free Glucon-D packet that
was promised to all runners at the finish line.

My friends and I got together, put our little heads (except
mine ofcourse, my head bloomed very early) together,
strategized on getting a head start and leaving the
rest of the crowd in the dust. We decided to worry
about the order of the finish once we were in the
lead and had more time to talk it through. The first
prize of a BSA SLR sponsored by TI Cycles was attractive
enough to test the bonds of our friendship.

The Annanagar Police had cordoned off the arterial
Second Avenue. The School Principal shouted out a small
speech and asked us to race away. Within five minutes,
my friends and I realized how tough the whole thing
was and how quixotic our dreams were. The race leaders
disappeared from our sight quickly. We chatted and ran
fast enough to keep up in the middle of the crowd and
well ahead of all the girls in our class. Surprisingly
for a beginner, I managed to finish the race without
much problems. Glucon-D had never tasted so nice
before that day. I was even able to save half the
packet to take back home.

I am amazed at the amount of training and self-torture
that SpiceTooth and Military have endured in these past
few months even before they ran the actual 26.2 miles.
I'm wishing the very best to you guys. Hope that the
weather cooperates and makes it memorable for you.

ET and I have decided to give you full body massages
with our bony behinds when you get to the Loft. GG has
already promised to cook you a scrumptious meal fit for
a Deshastha Brahmin king. Jedi has promised to add your
achievement to his list of excuses for not buying a
plasma. And ofcourse, you will get free Gatorade at
the finish line ;)

inchin's bamboo garden

I didn't know that "Inchin's Bamboo Garden" (IBG) was a chain. Thinking more, it is a great idea. I have always wondered why there isn't a popular, national chain of restaurants representing the Indian cuisine like the P.F.Chang's chain that represents Chinese food. Time to start the Americanization and assimilation. Can't wait for the future to see what fusion delights are cooked up by Americans exposed to Indian Chinese on a regular basis.

IBG has been launched in direct competition for the allegedly indo-chinese restaurant, "Hot Wok Village" (HWV). They are both located on Golf Road (the Fifth Avenue of Schaumburg), though separated by a few miles. For people, who thought that HWV was authentic indo-chinese food, IBG will be a sweet, spicy and tangy surprise.

I guess I didn't appreciate the Bombay Chinese style of HWV, after being exposed to the culinary delights served up by the Chennai Chinese roadside mobile hotels. Almost all HWV dishes contain a secret sauce as the base. This secret sauce is supposedly flown in from ATL every week by the Master Chef who works at the Atlanta HWV. After two or three visits, your appreciation for the sauce drops exponentially. Every dish begins to taste the same. This might explain why almost all desi visitors to Chicago make the pilgrimage to HWV (even though they dont have time for Sears Tower), whereas baguth members who live in close proximity to HWV try to avoid all possible contact.

Currently, the burnt garlic fried rice seems to be the dish du jour for the baguth members who have visited the place. The soups are good. The entrees are varied and better. And guessing from SpiceTooth's back-to-back visits last weekend, the spice levels are better than HWV. The best part is walking in and getting hit with the same aroma that you have encountered thousands of times, back home in Singara Chennai. The only complaint seems to be the high levels of noise. The place seems to be crammed with lotsa tables. Hopefully, they will cut back on the tables if the noise refuses to subside.

This review in a widely read publication is sure to bring lots of customers to IBG in the coming weeks ;) I hope that IBG maintains the level of quality of food and service and not become yet another Schaumburg restaurant that the baguth members visit almost daily for a month and then unceremoniously dump at the first signs of bad service.

poem by ogden nash

The poem in English is by Ogden Nash. Sujatha has given
a Tamil translation in his usual style. I guess this will be
timely advice for Military :)

To keep your marriage brimming
with love in the loving cup
Whenever you are wrong, admit it
whenever you are right, shut up

illara inbathukku
ithu mattum katru kol
thapp endral othu kol
sari endral pothi kol

scarred for life

I guess it was bound to happen after The Move
happened last week. When you put two young,
scantily-clad things alone in the same house
in close proximity for long periods of time,
animal tendencies easily overcome societal
restrictions.

I wish I had worked late. I wish I had gone to
the grocery store. I wish I had had a bikini wax
appointment. I wish my car had broken down and
that I had to walk home. Anything that would have
helped me avoid the awkward scene at home, by
putting me in different co-ordinates in space
and time.

I had just returned home from work. I heard some
weird noises coming from the master bedroom. Being
the curious type, I walked in to see what was
happening. I was almost blinded by what I saw.
I had seen similar scenes lotsa times in lotsa
different settings in lotsa different windows
media formats. But when I saw it in realtime
happening between participants I know well,
I was totally freaked out.

Luckily, I had my camera handy and managed to
snap a picture as the cover-up was happening.
Click here
if you want to see the picture and if
you have a strong heart.