Heck, it's hectic!

I guess, soon enough, hectic is gonna be my middle name. Especially after this weekend. The good thing was that I met my new aunts, drooled over uncle Jon, fell for an Afghani dress (and cuisine), and hanged out in the coffee shops and parks while the dog stayed at home. The bad thing was there was like hundred degrees outside and it was so humid that you weren’t able to breathe without thinking you're being water-boarded. The only good thing about this weather was the lightning bugs that were going crazy in our backyard... but then, I could watch them just when I took the dog to poop and that activity kind-a spoiled the romantic mood.

But back to the weekend. It was good even though my head was past the boiling point and you could fry an egg on my stroller. But we had a nice walk in Princeton, mommy kicked aunt Katka's butt in a really humiliating attempt at a Wii boxing match, we went to Philly (and luckily I was too young to get drafted, otherwise I think my mom would send me to Boston right then and there along with those losers in Abraham-Lincoln-style uniforms)… as I said, hectic. I wasn't even able to take a nap (not that I would really need to). And next weekend won't be any easier. Friday is the stars-and-stripes day, on Saturday my grandma's coming, on Sunday I'll have to play with all the toys she's gonna bring me, and on Monday we plan to go to NYC. There's no rest for the wicked.

Japanese chicks dig me, apparently

The weather's crappy today, nothing's on TV, and dog's asleep… so I decided to spend the afternoon with my comp - checking out my search engine compatibility. And let me tell you, it was really weird. Well, let me share my research and let's start with the losers and get our way up.

Yahoo is the biggest loser when it comes to making-any-sense-at-all results but it certainly wins in the sense-of-humor category. I mean, according to the results they either think I play chess, ping pong, soccer or that I yacht (that was actually the only picture they had of "me" which would be fine except for a small detail - I ain't no old dork sitting in a tiny ugly boat sailing into an oblivion). But I must say that I was real glad to find this webpage (even though I wasn't looking for it, yet). Thanx Yahoo, but I ain't dead yet!

Msn sucked as well. They found my website with the pictures (but didn't really use them in their image search, since the only picture I found was some weird guy and a slimy green sidewalk, don't ask me how it got there). Other than that, they thought I won some bike hall contest (again and again and again). Not that I don't like bikes, but a bike hall? I would never go for that!

Ask didn't know what it's doing either (sorry, daddy). They had no picture and thought I was interested in a bug house and some youth center in god-forsaken Britain. Also, they wanted me to expand on my daddy's boss… I mean, what's up with that? That sounds dirty.

Google was the only one that actually found what I was looking for - my pictures, my blog, some stuff about my daddy, pictures of me, my dad, my mom, my grandparents, even our doggie… and the best thing of all - I found out I am a huge hit in Japan! Look for yourself . Cool, huh? Eat it, [insert the reader's name here], I'm hot in Japan!

Frak writers' strike!

Writers. You know, I supported those guys and they frakked me over. I thought: yeah, they should get some money from the net, they deserve that, they work hard and nobody gives them enough credit (I mean, they do get credit in the credits but no sensible person reads those)… so I watched them sitting in the rain and actually thought about getting them coffee and donuts. Am I glad I didn't! Who do they think they are? How come that because of their little show, I have to wait another year to know who the last cylon is and who nuked the Earth? I mean, come on!

But there may be one way to find out earlier… Aaron, I mean - the chief. Last year, he told me that the last cylon is somebody new, somebody we haven't seen yet… but he wasn't sure who 'cause they hadn't let them read the final script yet. But I'm pretty sure he would have blurted it out if he knew… that's how cool that guy is. So, this is the plan… we all become his supporters, invite him over to the big apple for a hockey game and some beer, and get it the frak out of him… you in?

PS: go to his profile at facebook and let's do it!

Save your bucks

Why would anyone pay to see a bearded lady in a freak house when you can go to Coney Island and see her for free? And not just a bearded lady, oh no! You can see a lot of people that make you reevaluate your standards for normality and freakishness. I saw bearded ladies and beardless men in stockings, fat girls with fish tails and thin girls with three breasts on their chest and four on their bottom, bluish African Americans and greenish Mexicans, guys with two-feet-tall golden hairdos filled with shrimps and seahorses and girls with purple tentacles and blue spikes coming out of their bodies. I saw so many half-naked fat people that it will last me a lifetime and so many guys in stockings that I will never look at them the same way; and nor will daddy (the stockings I mean).

You know I am an open-minded guy and I am all for diversity and all that stuff but there's still one thing I just don't get. How could anyone bash Star Trek after walking the boardwalk of Coney Island? I mean, that's not even hypocritical anymore. That's just plain stupid.

So much to do so little time

Today, everybody wanted a piece of me. It was crazy. As soon as I opened my eyes I was in high demand. And I ain't talking just 'bout mom, dad, and that smelly dog who's trying to lick my feet each and every morning... Uncle Tomas called that he's already waiting for me at the train station. I like him. His famous foot-to-head-and-butt-hanging-low baby hold is quite comfy so I was pretty eager to pick him up so that he can pick me up… but it wasn't so easy. We picked him up and dropped daddy off (he keeps talking 'bout making money for toys which I don't get. Why? I mean, I got tons of them and they keep on coming so why bother with going somewhere to get more of them?). And then we went to the vet 'cause it's been two weeks already and the dog didn't want to have those metal clips in her belly anymore. And then we went for a walk, for lunch to a classy Indian place, and to daddy's work to meet all my facebook buddies. So, in case you're reading this… it was real nice chatting with you all.

And now, on a little more personal note:

Aunt Manali, don't you worry, you didn't make me cry… it was the cubicles and the idea of growing up and going to school in couple of years just so that I can work till I drop… that got to be a little too much for me to handle.

And uncle Ben, I'm pretty sure that your head pulsated even more than mine when you were my age!

Time to redecorate

I heard that some children actually play with toy cars and listen to the stories of Mickey Mouse. I play with toy art books and listen to my mom explaining the difference between impressionism and post-impressionism. It's tough. The truth is that this art mania corresponds to my mom's school-starting-thing but still…

But don't take me wrong, I like modern art. I went to MOMA when I was 8 weeks old, for Aslan's sake! (btw: the ending of the third Narnia book is really crappy, don't even read it, just skip the last chapter). I think 20^th century art is pretty cool and I'll gladly help with her homework (I mean, how else is she gonna ever pass that art course?) but the problem is, she doesn't even let me read her book in peace. True, I wanted to tear that one-ear-fellow's picture out of it and stick it in my crib (I mean, take a hint - it's time to redecorate! I ain't no little baby no more and I don't care for the piggie and cowie stuff in my bed)… where was I? Oh yeah, I tried to borrow that starry picture and she immediately snatched the book out of my hands and put it away.

Guess what, mommy? Next time you wonder why I'm making a scene when you sit down to your homework and ask for my help… wonder no more!

I'd shoot Aslan's head off

My daddy was crushed, smashed, perforated, stabbed, shot in his face/body/and limbs of all kinds, driven over, ignited, blown up, and pulverized last night. It was a cute little deathmatch from what I could tell. I especially liked the part when uncle Jon smashed my daddy against the wall or when daddy got so excited about finding a bazooka that he didn't realize he wasn't the only one who did and got blasted into oblivion. Don't take me wrong, I like my daddy—but there is still a strange kind of satisfaction in the fact that since he doesn’t want me cover his back (and instead, he insists on me falling asleep at 8pm while listening to Narnia), he then gets his head shot off. It's not that I mind talking lions and mice, but I sincerely believe that the Russian mob and Little Jacob have more practical life lessons in store for me than Caspian and Lucy combined. It's tough but true, ain't it uncle Jon?

PS: Can I be on your team next time?

Can't take the heat

I hate winter. I kind-a liked spring and I thought I was gonna love summer. I mean: beaches, swimming, tons of ice cream… come on! But it sure ain't shaping up the way I imagined. My folks read somewhere (probably in one of those really "smart" how-to-not-mess-up-a-kid-(much) books) that beach is no place for a guy under 6 months, so the beach's a gonner. Swimming - since I can't hit the beach, I ain't gonna hit the bathtub when I'm told to… I'm gonna make them regret that one. And apparently, I can't get any ice-cream either. Why not - beats me. So could anyone tell me how am I to cope with these 100-degrees-in-a-shadow-and-record-humidity stuff? 'Cause I sure have no idea. Summer sucks.

PS: And our neighbor's house's on fire. Summer sure sucks for him.

The Julie-less future

Remember Julie? Of course you do. Who wouldn't? Beautiful dark eyes that make you feel like you're the only person in the whole wide world, gorgeous brown hair, stunning smile, sweet red knees from all that skilled crawling… she's truly remarkable. And ever since she came on to me couple of weeks ago, I thought we had something special. I guess I was wrong. Terribly wrong. Today, she crawled just past me and didn't even dignify my excited greeting with an answer. And since I'm still, obviously, very baby-like naïve and a hopeless romantic (on top of that), I thought that she was just playing it cool in front of everybody else or that she didn't see me… I don't know, I guess I was just being stupid… but there were like hundreds of possible excuses running in my head. And then, they all got crushed. She crawled toward Salvador (or whatever his stupid name was), stood up and hugged him. Just in front of me! He hugged her back and she looked at me with the worst expression ever. It was the evilest smile I've ever seen (even worse than Jon Stewart does when he's impersonating that Bush guy). How do you deal with something like that? What do you do when all your dreams and hopes for your future together get unexpectedly flushed down the toilet?

PS: Do you think that Expedia will reimburse the air tickets I got for our romantic getaway? Or would it be easier to find some other chick to take along at match.com? I mean, I seriously need some vacation after this.

The bitch is hardcore

Just a little update on our dog related issue. I must say I ain't sure if she actually had the $500 surgery or not. When we went to pick her up, she chewed on the leash and came running from the doctor's office, jumped into the car, ran up the stairs, and then followed a neighbor's fat cat into the stinky sewer (at least, she tried to). I mean, the only one I know who's tougher than her is John Rambo… and that's just because he actually performed the surgery on himself; the recovery was the same, give or take. And, honestly, I think that if she had opposable thumbs, she could've taken him.

It's really scary, you know. How can I now complain about my doctor's visits? What is an injection in comparison to ovariohysterectomy? How do you let anybody know that you have injection-phobia without feeling humiliated by the frakking dog? Maybe I should ask my daddy…

Quick Fix

I understand that our dog is being fixed today but I ain't sure what exactly is being fixed about her. It's not that she is so perfect… it's more like - there are so many issues I ain't sure where to start the fixing process. I really hope my folks made a good checklist for the doctor. Something like: Jumping on the bed. Check. Pulling on the leash. Check. Licking our adorable baby after his bath. Check. Not eating the smelly dry food. Check. Losing hair everywhere. Check. Sneezing. Check. Eating the cage bars. Check. Sniffing everyone's eyeballs. Check. And the list goes on… I just hope it will work out. But whether or not it fixes all these things, I must say I am really shocked, and impressed at the same time, that a surgery can fix any of this. I guess I will consider the career path in medicine after all.

No brainer

I never thought that squirrels are any smarties or brainers but today, one little flea-bag convinced me that they really are as dumb as they come. I was asleep and heard some barking coming from our balcony, which is really weird. I mean, we got a dog but she doesn’t bark. Don't ask me why but even I can make better barking sounds than she… I guess it's got something to do with her big ears and piggy tail, but who knows? (And, honestly, who cares?) But back to the "story." I went to check it out and there was an ugly squirrel sitting on the balcony and barking like crazy. Even when the dog got there and tried to chase her away, she didn't run away; she just merely moved down couple of inches and kept on barking. I don't know what it was all about. She was either really dumb or had rabies. Or both. Yeah, probably both… 'cause it is still on the balcony, head-down barking towards a sleeping cat 20 feet bellow. I mean, come on, squirrel, get a life! (somewhere else)

Indian all nighter

I'm so groggy today I might actually take a nap. Well, I guess I'm not as invincible as I thought I was… and that little all nighter I pulled last night is really gonna take its toll. That can actually make my mom pretty happy… but even so, it was worth it. My folks, uncle Jiankuan, and I went for dinner to that Indian place. And even though it might sound like a drag, it sure wasn't. On top of the spicy food, spicier chatting, and even spicier dancing on the table… I did some new cool flying stunts, did some networking with the owner, and got a huge box of chocolates all for myself (now, I need to think about a way to make my doctor believe I won't choke on them). Well, what can I say? It was pretty darn cool evening.

PS: Did you know that okra can be slippery? I mean REALLY slippery?! (But in all fairness, it ain't as slippery as paneer.)

Curry-less state of mind

Have I ever told you how much I love Indian food? Well, I do. And who could blame me? Especially since I actually grew up on curry… literally. My folks were supplying me with weekly Lister-style doses of masalas and currys and pakodas long before I was actually born, and they haven't stopped since. And that's one thing I never had any problem with… and now, it's over. Albert left me. Albert, who I've known my whole life is gone. Back to India. Back to his family. And I am left curry-less. To be honest, I was devastated. I couldn't help but cry like a baby when he hugged me goodbye. It sucks. And it's kind-a sad when you realize that a way to your heart really is through your stomach (and, in my case, through a middleman - mommy). I mean, will I ever find such a well-matched friend again? I can only hope.

Stay in touch, Albert! I'll miss ya.