Here (for a while) and Away

And we're back.

I should write some rot about being too occupied with creating some fantastic invention that could win a sort of Genius-in-the-rough award (there's no fooling anyone that I could win a completed, polished Genius title. Someone would definitely have to finish the process for me,) or else pretend I've been upto something incredible that would boggle the minds of readers everywhere. Traveling to remote climes to live with ancient tribes. Discovering the secrets of the universe. Eating up Africa's weight in chocolate. But I've been doing a whole bustling load of absolutely nothing. I mean, apart from spending a lot of my waking hours stalking a certain male and thinking of all kinds of creative crap for my status on Facebook. Same old.

Ok really, I didn’t totally hibernate in the many empty-of-blogging months. I worked like a crazy donkey on Red Bull at my new job. I fell in like/ lust/ attraction. I fell out of it. I fell back in again. I stalked him. Did I use the past tense? I lie. I stalk him. I discovered he was a first degree jerk from hell who was doing a really, really good job of impersonating Mr. Amazing. I still stalk him. I skydived. Started working out. (Ok, sort of. Sometimes.) Re-befriended old friends. Remembered why I loved them. Saved up. Blew it out traveling. Ate some of what I think is the world's best food at the most out-of-the-way restaurants. Thought about publishing a guide book on amazing, out-of-the-way restaurants. Decided against it (selfish reasons.) Bought a car. Bettered myself personally (if you call watching a dvd of “The Secret” and positive thinking and asking the universe for my desires and all that rot, better'fying.) If I say ‘rot’ a lot, excuse me, I've just finished reading three P.G. Wodehouse books back to back. Humorous chap. Does anyone else read British authored books in a fake British accent, or is it just me?

One thing I did not change was my habit of digressing.

Something I have discovered is that I don't really have too much to say to the world out there (that has not already been announced, in no uncertain terms, on the descriptively detailed pages of my Facebook.) It's probably all the time-consuming things I get upto, what with the endless Facebooking and stalking Mr. Not-so-right-after-all, but I'm sure that once life begins to get deliriously dull (when I finally block him on IM and Facebook), blogging will once again be my refresher mint.

For now, I have to deal with thwarting the passions of a fabulously funny man I know I will never be with (another story for another time.) (Ah, what the hell, I'm just not attracted to him); turning away from another who I am desperately attracted to (ie. stalk), and who will coolly smash my heart to jagged smithereens if I let him; continue working like a Crazy Donkey on Red Bull, while not actually being crazy (contrary to what some think), or resembling a donkey (I would hope), nor having a particular liking for Red Bull; and planning a holiday where I will see all my friends, do what I want to do (eat at more amazing, undiscovered restaurants) and not completely obliterate my piggy bank from overuse. Or worse, blow up and resemble one.

I admit this is a long post for someone who doesn't have all that much to say. Maybe if I were more regular with tapping out these fascinating (heh) intricacies of my life, the stories would flow like the effortless rush of the Zambezi river, and not the thoughtful, halting plod of the Nile*.




*Ummm... There’s a very slight (ahem) possibility this description is not entirely accurate. So disclaimer: Don’t quote me on your next Geography exam.

GG is feeling very sheepish..

for not having posted in forever. And promises to blog about something meaningful and interesting and humourous.

One of these days.

I'd much rather be watching television

I was finally able to decide on what I want to do for the rest of my life. Well the next year anyhow. I accepted the offer with the most exciting job description. It doesn't pay quite as much as the one that I didn't truly want to do, but I figure if I work hard and network harder, I'll hopefully end up with my dream job (and with it, a dream paycheck) within a year or two. And anyway, the money isn't all that bad. And it's close to home. And it sounds incredibly bloody exciting.

So that's that.

I was recently introduced to this dude online. Arranged-like-marriage sort of situation. We've been set up and now it's up to us to see if we want to take it further. It's incredibly difficult to suss a guy out online, I mean it's complicated enough as it is in real life, can you imagine figuring out if someone is right for you over miles of fibre optic cable and electronic beeps? Ofcourse we'd meet in person if things took off, but that's where the problem lies.

I've had a similar not-so-great experience before. Having a crush on someone I met online, we instant messaged each other like crazy for two whole long years. Then, when we felt we'd moved on romantically, (and I knew for sure he didn't have bad teeth, or wasn't an axe murderer) we spoke on the phone for another six months before he came down to meet me. Oh. My. God. It wasn't like I hadn't seen his (photoshopped) pictures, but not only was I completely not attracted to him, he was, in person, a completely different guy. Egoistic, stubborn and aggressive. Not my type one little bit. Hell, I have trouble handling my own obstinacy.

I continued with the so-called relationship though, feeling horribly guilty for judging him for his looks. But I realised soon enough that there could be nothing serious between us because there was absolutely no chemistry. I hadn't even had the courage to let him kiss me. I was afraid I'd cringe, or even worse, he'd feel me shudder in distaste.

From that I've learnt how important physical attraction is to a relationship. I know a lot of people would be thinking "oh how shallow," but you don't want to wake up every morning next to a guy who startles you into consciousness. I'd rather be the one taking the initiative to spook my partner with bedraggled hair and a mascara-streaked face.

Not that I'm worried about physical chemistry here (why exactly I wrote the previous three long paragraphs about it then, I don't quite know), he seems like a nice guy, cute in a very coochie-coo sort of way (although I'm not so sure that's a good thing seeing he's all of 31), all the right credentials (doesn't live with his parents, has an education and a regular job), but he's not funny. I mean, he doesn't get my (mostly lame) jokes! (And that's worse than not thinking the world revolves around me.) On top of that, he writes worse than a lawyer. No wait, I take that back. I've received an email from a real lawyer that read "that was da best summer of my life i must say we was out of control. you better enjoy your hols cause work is wack!"

So maybe not the right comparison to make.

What I mean is that he uses words like 'idiosyncrasies' and 'invalidate' and 'intrinsic phenomena'. I mean seriously, who writes casual emails like that? Perhaps to a potential employer, definitely NOT to a person you're getting to know, hopefully romantically. And then, digging the weirdo hole deeper, he quotes himself - "and I said with palpable excitement in my tone". I mean what is that? Author in waiting? And I am his unwitting feedback? Does he want me to write back saying, "oh what wonderful prose. Your writing is so fluid and eloquent. You should get published!"?

I told you right. I always get the best ones. God doesn't want me to find a partner, He wants to try my patience. And entertain me.

Bamboozled

I am blessed. I've never had a hard time getting most things I've wanted. Note that I say most things, because that hot guy who could've been the father of my future children? He didn't turn up. I didn't think he would, because really, just assuming someone would turn up somewhere just because he'd been there the week before, is frankly more than just a little stupid. And reeks slightly of stalker-ism.

And I'd bought a cute top and everything.

But work-wise, interesting career options have always easily fallen into my lap. I've somehow always ended up with jobs I either did not have full qualifications for, or were what I'd thought, out of my league. I've obviously bullshitted my way through quite a few, but have always ended up where I wanted to be. May I stress again, work wise.

Yes, I'm still annoyed at hot-guy for not turning up at the exact same place he was at, the exact same time as last weekend. He should really be more consistent.

Anyhow, job offers have been drizzling in, and in the past week since I gave in my resignation, I've gotten calls from old work bosses (who'd heard I was planning to quit after I'd moaned (not completely unintentionally) to his wife) before I even sent out my resume to a recruitment agency, who by the way, were completely useless and have not bothered to call me back. But I have a few interviews lined up, two offers which are in the works, and one definite prospect. And my current one wants me to stay, promising a double pay-hike.

Great. Fabulous, you say?

I have a colossal problem. So gigantic, I can't wrap my arms around it.

It's like lining up rich dark chocolate in front of me, all different flavours - some with crunchy nuts, others with chewy toffee and caramel, and more exploding bitter coffee - and asking me to choose. ONE.

Is that even humanely possible?

I'm so confused I'm a stone's throw away from just tossing a coin and deciding my fate with whatever side it lands.

I could stay at my present job, but I'd still be stuck in a deep, muddy rut. The other definite offer is a move away from what I've been doing, although still in the same field. MUCH better package, much better everything. All I'm worried about is not being able to deliver to their high expectations. High as in, soaring past the seventh heaven. I could do it I think, but in a year I'd probably end up a stressed, nail-biting, white haired, saggy skinned woman. But a year is do-able, and I could take it as a stepping stone towards even better things. I'd just have to learn to deal with being a hag.

The two still in the works are a company which is almost as good as my current one, great package, same job I do now but more challenging, and a whole, big, lengthy commute. The other, a fabulous fabulous opportunity (dream workplace) with a slightly boring (for now) job profile, an undiscussed-as-yet salary and a bloody massive scope for growth.

Should I roll dice? Choose a number? Toss a coin? Pick a chit? See an astrologer?

Or should I just take an aspirin, chain myself back to my desk, and pretend to myself I didn't step out of my uncomfortable grave-like rut, accept the pay-hike, never speaking of it again?

I'd much rather have to choose between the chocolate.


Update: Make that two definite offers. Fug. Why couldn't have these been gorgeous men instead?

A lot can happen in (almost) 4 weeks

• I quit my job

• I met a hot guy

• I got drunk for the first time in my life. Yes, at the age of 26, that may be unbelievably late. But you have to remember that I'm a good muslim girl. Umm.. mostly. Okay then, a little bit of the time... when I remember.

• Two of the above happened in one night.

• Naturally the last two, because I sure as hell wasn't drunk when I meticulously planned and carried out my out-of-the-blue, dramatic, but leaving-on-a-good-note resignation.

• I will now be officially jobless in one month.

• But on the way to a (hopefully) great (and much better paying) job.

• The hot guy is really, really cute. (Therefore obviously, the "hot" tag.)

• Although we have yet to go out. Or for that matter, have a one-on-one conversation.

• The latter which could quite possibly happen this forthcoming weekend.

• And I have no fatally attractive articles of clothing left.

• The summary of this being that I have to go shopping.

• With a little nagging voice at the back of mind tagging along, reminding me that in less than a month I could be both penniless and jobless.

• Not my idea of a fun afternoon out.

• Nor in that case, a pretty situation to be in.

Trying not to jinx myself

The past few weeks have been so busy I've hardly noticed the time whizzing by. It always does when you're having fun right? I've had an endless (but enjoyable) workload, a full to the brim social life and an overflowing life schedule; and I'm physically, mentally and wardrobe exhausted.

I don't know why I'm blogging because I don't really have anything to write about.

For some reason, although my life is as fulfilling as a seven-course meal, and on top of that, flavoured with little dollops of interesting tidbits; none are really exciting enough to warrant being shared with the world (also, I do like my food). It's been all about good (and some absolutely shitty) movies, un-put-downable (and horribly mind-numbing) reads, lazy brunches, swimming in the rain, and fancy, wallet-(well, cute clutch)-emptying dinners out. And I'm so on top of everything. Queen bee. Work superstar. Organisation goddess.

Blog slacker.

Ahmet had emailed me recently saying he was happy, and that he wanted to let me know he'd always liked me and had even wanted to marry me (!!!) if he hadn't already had a girlfriend. Apparently he'd even told his family (!!!) about it but they were adamant on him not breaking an already long-existing relationship with his long-distance girlfriend. How bizarre. And how bizarre that I find it so bizarre. I know it's true because his sister had once very offhandedly remarked that he was thinking of breaking his engagement, and I'd laughed it off and commented on how men were men; then distressed myself wondering why, and more importantly, for whom.

Such is life. Although I had a warm glow around my heart for the longest time.

There haven't been any interesting guys in the interim. I met two exes, one recently married, the other recently divorced, who danced like he was doing jumping jacks and whose ex-wife I wouldn't blame for citing that as the sole reason for the split. What in the name of God was I thinking?

So touch wood (and triple evil eye back on anyone giving me the evil eye) I'm happy. I'm at a point where I'm deeply satisfied with where and how things are going. I'm mildly disappointed that I haven't got a special someone to share moments with, but in the mean time I have lovely, fun, nutty friends who make my life beautiful, my photos cheery and my Facebook wall entertaining.

Return of the Prodigal

I've been back for just over a week now, but still having a hard time readjusting to regular life. No extravagant shopping trips all day, no fabulously scrumptious food available at every corner, and certainly no hustle bustle of thousands, or the constant blaring of cars, bikes, rickshaws and horse carriages alike. Instead, I'm back to a city thats having major power problems and a mountain load of work that gets bigger every time I think about looking at it.

The three weeks away that I had planned for turned into a little over four. Not because we were having such an incredibly great time, which we were. But the medical check-up my mom was undergoing required it. And so, having asked for only a three week leave of absence from work, I started revamping my resume in my mind and thought of exactly what I'd say at my next job interview.

Fortunately, everything turned out okay. The tests revealed nothing serious that couldn't be controlled with loving care and a hawk-eye watch over medication and diet; and my desk still sat waiting empty. Barely just.

What I hadn't bargained for was how much I'd miss Karachi. The smells, the sounds, the flavours, the frequent chuckles with family, the noisy rickshaw-wallahs and the incredibly hot Pathan boys. Every little thing became an excuse to return.

So much so that my last conversation with mom went; "Mom, the toilet paper here is so crap. Lets move to Pakistan."

M.I.A.

...for the next three weeks since I'll be out of the country. I'm too tired from running between travel agent and work and bank and home to actually be legible or sensible in trying to explain why I'm leaving so suddenly.

Just know that I've not decided to join the travelling circus (although it sounds exciting and I might just be interested), neither am I on the country's most wanted list (last time I checked), nor am I on a covert mission, secretly training to be a Kamikaze pilot for Uzbekistan.

But I leave tonight and I still need to pack.

See you soon.

Oh, and...

An update

Yesterday's very unexpected valentines present made it to my top five, all time greatest gifts.

*drum roll* I got a digital camera!!

Finally! After years of wanting one, but never really bothering to actually go out and buy one because I always had something I wanted just a little bit more, I got one! Sleek, slim and silver, its magic. My memories will finally be pixelated.

Strangely enough, quite a few of my more valuable possessions have been gifts. The phone I currently use, my rarely used iPod, a Gucci watch, and now the camera.

So my new motto in life: If you really want something. Wait it out. Eventually, some kind soul will feel sorry for you and buy it for you.

I heart valentines

I don't believe there should be only one day dedicated to love, but if it makes men nicer (more generous), who am I to complain? Although seeing my sister with her husband makes me all dreamy-eyed and cheesy-grinned. When I met her today and asked what her other half was giving her for the special occasion, she said she didn't want anything. Since everything she's ever wanted or asked for, he's given without question, everyday is valentines as far as she's concerned.

Sigh. I want that for me too.

A rich sucker who'll give me everything I want.

But since I have nothing exciting to report, seeing that I have no special date lined up - which has been the case with many, many past valentine's days - and which, in all honesty I have absolutely no problem with, because its actually fun being single on valentines. You get the attention of all the other single guys out there, and can just possibly get more roses and chocolates and other little gifts than any other coupled-up woman, even if you do have to have a pretty lame single girl's night out that night. (Which can also be fun, because you can meet a whole bunch of single guys who are also on a pretty pathetic guy's night out. True story that.)

So anyhow, as I was saying, because I don't have anything fun planned, I will post about my favourite ever valentine's surprises. So if anyone out there is looking for a tip, here are a couple you can't go wrong with.

The nicest may be a little cliched and maybe a little unoriginal, but it was incredibly sweet all the same. A huge bunch of gorgeous red roses - 49 to be exact - delivered with a cute little note that read, "If you stand in front of a mirror with these 49 red roses, you'll be looking at the 50 most beautiful things on earth." While I may not like being called a "thing", I will not hold it against someone who thinks I'm beautiful. Vain? Never denied it.

The second sweetest thing ever was a very inexpensive but thoughtful basket of chocolates. Three big bars of regular candy with a note that said, "The Bounty because you have a head like a coconut, the Snickers because I think you're nuts, and the Mars, because I think you're out of this world."

Cute right?