Uhaul and me dead

This was the final move from my old apt. to my new one and it has finally led me to realize that it's not worth doing it by yourself. From the very onset, it seemed the day was just going to get from bad to worse. The line at the Uhaul center was not too long but the wait was. When my cousin brother finally got the keys to the truck and we made our way to the apt. for loading, it was a little well past noon. And we had a little over 4 hrs left to return the truck!
Once there, we were joined by a friend - who had agreed very nicely to come at the last minute in spite of his hangover - and the poor thing did not hold the sofa properly and hurt his back. both the sofa and the friend had to be abandoned.. he was in pain. but no love lost for the sofa. but by the time I huffed and puffed my way to help out, someone had lost control of the dresser and as it went rolling down the loading dock, i had become completely hysterical. i was in splits actually. then my cousin and i got in to a spat. so the two of us moved stuff silently for the next half hour. when it came time to go to my new apt., the truck refused to start. sputter sputter sputter for 15-20 mins. Uhaul hotline to the rescue - mechanic would be on the way in 45 mins., oh but after 45 mins., they said they might as well send a tow truck. great!
So while i went to grab a sandwich, I conferred with some friends and decided on movers to unload the stuff at my new place next day. there was no question about it. Finally, the tow truck (which was stuck in traffic as usual) arrived around 8 pm. did i mention we called the hotline around 4ish?? it was a big-ass thing and stalled traffic on Connecticut Ave. for a while to get the truck on the truck basically. while i was watching this unfold, one of my friend's parents were in one of the minivans stuck behind the tow truck and waved to me. they were like hey, Shilpa is that your Uhaul? you look fabulous with it. haha.
Anyway, the next plan was to drive to Capitol Hill with the tow truck driver as my cousin followed behind in his car. As you know, in life there's a first time for everything. I can say this was the second time I got a ride inside a tow truck but as far as tow drivers hitting on me, this was a first. Rodney was his name. When he said i looked 25, I was happy as a fiddle. Of course, questions about India and could he come "knockin' on my crib for Indian food" followed. "Where do you hang out with the girls?" U St. sometimes, I said. "You go to U St.?? Girl, you like to drop it like it's hot!" Then a rather strange qs: "Do you go to male strip clubs?" Umm, no i must confess. I've never been to one. Considering the kind of crrrazy day I had, this line of questioning was pretty hilarious!! But everything is fine now.. the movers came the next day and Rodney went back to his next gig. Maybe moonlighting at one of those strip clubs?

Fall Colors

I’ve been procrastinating a bit on the blog side, no thanks to lack of DSL services at my new place. Also blame it on my current sleeping conditions: an air mattress, till my furniture comes in 2 weeks, which certainly is not as romantic as it sounds. It’s not like I’m on some suspended piece of cloth floating on air. It feels like a water bed (and those are terrible too, reminds me of cheap motels) and it’s not the best for my back. There are these weird bumps on the mattress – caused when air is pumped in – and in spite of the cosy, campy feel, I really can’t wait for my bed to arrive. Soon.
I’ve also been discovering the joys that come with living in a proper house instead of an apt. building where the management takes care of the smallest stuff. In the past couple weeks, there have been issues with a door lock, a window blind and the kitchen exhaust fan. Not to mention the weird purple stain I saw in the bathroom sink yesterday, caused by a marker on the back of some cheap tag. I had to spend a good 10 mins. getting rid of that one. Also just confirmed the lifestyle choice of our dear landlord when we were woken up to the sounds of Cher’s “Believe” blasting through the walls on Sunday morning.
But other than that, it’s been a beautiful fall weather weekend, my friends. The holy trilogy of crunchy leaves, crisp air and brilliant sunshine are definitely keeping everyone in high spirits. It feels great to look out the window every morning and just see this huge tree turning colors.
Speaking of seeing, I also saw “The Departed” which was wicked good and checked out Henri’s Rousseau’s “Jungles in Paris” at the National Gallery of Art as part of a friend’s birthday celebrations (I know, so culturally astute) and reminisced more about Boston/Cambridge with some transplants from there. Anyway, I had seen “Jungles” at the London Tate Gallery earlier this year but completely forgot about it until I saw the Tiger in a Tropical Storm (Surprised!) painting. On second — and longer — inspection, the tiger looked scared more than anything else. Rousseau was also a graphic illustrator for the newspaper Le Petit Journal. There were many satires depicting man vs. beasts and one was pretty interesting and comical – showing a man and lion in a jeep together, the man trying to control the beast with chains, but the lion sits upright with his mane blowing in full glory and pride.

O Mommy Dearest

As we all know the Mother of All Matrimonial Sites is shaadi.com. As the name implies, the site means serious business. From the “quick partner search” to the “astro” columns and “success stories,” it’s a marketing triumph that’s brought all kinds of different people together. I know at least 3 friends who got married through the site and although it’s inspiring, I’m not exactly holding out a candle for The One in Cyberspace.
Anyway, till now I was safe in the cocoon of knowledge that my parents’ use of the Internet was confined to rediffmail.com – nothing more, nothing less – unless you count Maa’s obsession with playing spider solitaire and some game involving wolves. So imagine my surprise when I get an e-mail from Shaadi.com Customer Relations with the subject line “Profile for you.” The body of the mail went on to say “Your friend maa (her e-mail id) wants you to check out this profile.” Needless to say, I was highly amused. Two thoughts crossed my mind: How did she start surfing this site? And besides standard job, family factors, what other qualities was she looking for in a potential son-in-law?
It was time for the weekend phone call, which went something like this:
Me: How did you learn how to surf this site?
Maa: This is so much fun. Your kakima taught me (this is my aunt from Ottowa who is like a pal to me and who I thought, till now, was super cool about not putting any pressure!!!)
Me: and who are these guys you’re choosing?
Maa: I think that chap from Texas is quite handsome.
Me: I thought you said looks weren’t important.
Maa: I’m also looking at this boy in California. He says he is very close to his family.
Me: How touching. And where in California? I am not moving to Sunnyvale.
Maa: This is not funny. By the way, he also has a sense of humor.
Me: Are you going to stop playing solitaire now?

Oh, I do miss my mum :)