iPhoto

This is by no means an advertisement. I have had plenty of frustrating moments waiting for iPhoto to load or refusing to recognize a picture I have just uploaded. That being said, since it is our current photo organizer, I must pay it the respect it deserves for giving me a platform to occasionally reminisce. I felt like I should post a blog today, but didn't have anything particularly important or pressing to talk about (unless you consider the fact that I'm eating quite possibly the best frozen yogurt I've ever had in my life. Too bad I already have a yogurt entry).

{Enter iPhoto}

A few minutes of browsing old pictures and I find myself waxing nostalgia. Here are a few goodies...

ahh, yes. The dreaded wisdom teeth removal process. A rite of passage for all 16-23 year olds. This picture was taken in a Walgreen's parking lot while my then-fiance, Neil, went in to get glorious pain meds that ended up making me puke all night, followed by dry-sockets and final semester college exams. Joy.

The first (of many) cooking-for-Neil experiences, full of 'I want him to ask me to marry him' pressure. Canned peaches and boxed pasta hardly count as cooking, but I can say that the ribs were a great success, as has been the marriage.

My friend, Libby, and I hit a deer the day before (well, technically I hit the deer while Libby sat innocently in the passenger's seat). Neil picked us up at a local McDonald's to bring us back to school. While there I encountered the most inept McDonald's employee you could possibly imagine. He handed me this ice cream cone with an, "I'm sorry, I have no clue what I'm doing" look on his face and all I could do was laugh and say, "No problem. It might end up being the best ice cream I've ever had. Who knows." Not the best, but it was good. And it provided some much needed laughter after our 'deer meets bumper resulting in totaled car' incident.

4 of my favorite guys reff-ing one of my favorite things: powder puff football. The tall guy on the far left looks like he'd make a great husband, don't you think? I have many fond memories of hits, bruises, and potentially broken jaws.

So ends the walk down memory lane. Hoping the next post is extra inspiring to make up...

Yenna Pandradhu

Translates in Tamil as “what to do?”, and is currently my greatest cultural adjustment. “What to do?” as in your computer stops working and the IT guy doesn’t know how to fix it. As in you try for 6 months to get your name added onto a bank account. As in you switch mobile networks due to bad customer service only to find out your new one doesn’t give you a signal in your house. What to do?

Here’s a recent conversation I’ve had with my new home:

India: Neil, enna achu (what happened)?

Neil: Oh nothing, I’m just stressed because of __________ (insert a too detailed explanation)

India: Oh yes, that happends. Yenna pandradhu.

Neil: What do you mean, What to do? There’s a lot I can do. I am equipped with advanced problem solving skills. I can figure this out on my own and beat this problem into submission.

India: Apdia? (Is that so?)

Neil: Yes, I am very skilled at checking off things on my to do list and vanquishing them from existence so that I can move on to other things on my list.

India: And how is that working for you?

Neil: Well, not so great right now, but I’m still fighting it.

India: Hmm, it seems to me you are just stressed and you still have your problem, right?

Neil: Well, that’s true, but at least I’m doing something, right?

India: Puriyala (I don’t understand you)

Neil: I mean it’s always better to work really hard at something even if your chances of success are miniscule. All the sports movies I ever watched taught me that.

India: Neil, how long are you planning on staying in India?

Epilogue

I went to pick up my business mail at this rent-a-office place. When I finally explained my purpose, the proprietor went to some hidden drawer and pulled out a mountain of mail and began to sort through it looking for my name. I would usually get annoyed, walk over, and sort through my own mail looking for my stuff. But this time, I just sat back, read more of the paper, and ordered some tea. I mean, honestly, what can you do?

Baby's first concert

Our friends Kamal & Priya took us to Bangalore to enjoy an AR Rahman concert. In layman's terms: the guy who wrote the music for Slumdog Millionaire; they call him the "mozart of Madras". He is by far the most successful composer in India, and rightfully so.

Eat your heart out Jai Ho fans!