Date A Girl Without A Head

Date a girl without a head. Date a girl who has broken free from the shackles of society and convention. Date a girl who doesn't care so hard that she literally lopped off her head one morning and never looked back. She is utterly incapable of looking back. In fact, she can't look at anything at all. I mean sometimes she wants to and then it's kind of a bitch to have to feel for things with her hands and the stump of her neck, but the girl without a head is nothing if not brave.

Date a girl without a head. Date a girl who has not only been called "strange" and "foolhardy" but also "freakish", "repulsive" and "horrifying". The girl without a head squares her shoulders and takes everything life has to throw at her without as much as blinking an eyelid (she has none). The well-meaning advice of friends and the taunts of strangers - they all roll off her like water off a duck. Or like water off a smooth stump where a head used to be. You can mess up your metaphors. The girl without a head won't mind. She can't hear you anyway.

It's easy to spot this girl in public. She's the one without a head. You might find her at a cafe, folding origami into shapes that look vaguely head-like, or you might find her walking down the street - arms outstretched - grabbing hold of and rubbing the face of anyone unlucky enough to be looking down at their phone while walking. The girl without a head tries to be strong, but sometimes it simply isn't enough.  Hold her hands in yours and kiss the side of her neck when she least expects it. It's easy because she never expects it. She likes that.

Date a girl without a head because nothing will ever faze the children you will have together. No monster under their bed could ever hold a candle to your girl. They will not only be tough and quick with their fists (PTA meetings will be hard to live down) but will also be the smartest kids around because interacting with their mother will involve looking at an abacus or a softy rotating globe affixed to their mother's neck. The girl without a head wants only the best for her children.

Grow old with the girl without a head. Sit with her on your front porch and feel the frayed edges of her head-stump gently flutter in the spring breeze as she lays it on your shoulder. Love her then. Love her forever.

Date a girl without a head. Or better yet, date a girl with neither a head nor a torso.

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Twitter ate my brain

So I'm writing this in an effort to stop "doing the twitter" so much and slowly (maybe) regain control of my writing faculty and also other faculties in general (but hopefully not my Immunology faculty from college. She and I, we had our differences). Because a) I might have forgotten how to write long sentences and b) I'm worried that my brain has started thinking in 140 characters. You spend so much time trying to fit your nice complex thought into a simple sentence that slowly the simple sentence is all the complex thought you can muster. AMIRITE. hurrrrr.
Okay, I'm tired already. Baby steps.

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The Dentist Who Doesn't Lust

Last week on a bus to the amazing metropolitan city of Chennai, I met a dentist. I know he was a dentist because he asked me why I hadn't sought out orthodontic treatment (I have unusually sharp and slightly out-of-place canines), and then gave me professional advice on how to correct my unseemliness ("Of course though, if it doesn't bother you aesthetically then I suppose it's alright"). I could hear him speak in italics. Added to this his constant greasy grinning and what he told me next, I don't think I liked him very much.

He said he didn't lust any more. We were discussing various Art of Living programmes (I haven't been to any but I would like to) and he told me how, through controlled breathing and willpower, he did not experience the negative emotion of lust any more.

What is negative about the emotion of lust? I don't always act on it, but the occassional surge of wanting (or frisson, as a writer of 'romantica' might put it) feels pretty nice.

If I could host erections, I'd want to be able to revel in them.

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Blogger Lost All My Comments!

In my never-ending state of hyperactive insomnia quest for perfection, I changed my blog url a couple days back. Twice. Maybe thrice. Okay, five times but that's it. And now my comments are gone! All of them! Not one comment still here! And it's not my fault! Not one bit! Blogger ate up all my comments!

This post is here because I'm bored out of my fucking mind so you don't think I'm a loser with no friends. About a dozen people or so do read my blog. A couple of them have been known to post the occasional comment. I'm no loser.

But look here, do I use too many exclamation marks? Is this font too small? Is my hair too frizzy? Stop looking away! I don't have ADHD! Look at me. LOOK AT ME!

(17th September 2010) A happy update - All comments have been restored.

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How To Get Yourself An Engineerboy

Since doing this sort of thing seems to be all the rage nowadays.

Before we begin, you must know that at any time, you can speed up this whole terribly complex process (or even completely skip procedure) depending on amount of cleavage you decide to show. Just so you know.

1. Identify: You see that good-looking bespectacled boy with the pair of earphones and no sense of style? That is possibly him. Trail him. If he finishes his canteen dosai and then proceeds to go attend a quiz somewhere, he's your man. These boys are always attending quizzes somewhere.

2. Read up: On trivia from the following movies: Star Wars/ Lord of the Rings/ all Quentin Tarantino movies/ all Mani Ratnam movies. These may sound pedestrian, but the good Engineer Boy has a vulgar amount of information on most of these (plus of course even more trivia about a wholly abnormal number of films). Repeat this process with information about Jimi Hendrix and Metallica, and any other popular music not made by a boy band.

3. Accost: At (obviously) a quiz club event. Start a conversation and mention in passing pieces of the completely useless information you should have gleaned by now from Wikipedia. At a relevant moment, say something like, "OMG don't be such a lameass padawan!!" It makes little sense and might sound stupid to the uninformed outsider, but the engineerboy will be duly impressed. After the quiz is over and you have placed first, tell him how even though he came 3rd, you thought he "totally pwned" that one question about Naughty America. Then glance down at the the large erection outlined in his pants and smile cunningly, and whisperingly give him directions to the restroom (in Elvish).

4. Make your mark!: Now that you have ingratiated yourself with his skewed sense of what is cool, let him know you can think for yourself. Violently diss an A.R.Rahman album. He might walk away, but curiosity will lead him back. If he doesn't return... well, fuck it. There are so many more of them!

5: This is important: In bed, if you ever get that far, let him cry a little afterwards. Take steps to ensure he doesn't start to resent you. Maybe hold him and offer him a cookie.

6. Be careful: Around his parents. Never let on that you are anything more than friends. He's most probably terrified of his parents and in fact, his meek-looking father is actually the reason he's been bullied into doing his engineering anyway. Which leads me to my next point:

7. Don't expect to date an engineer: If you do start going with your gorgeous quizzer-boy, chances are he won't stay an engineer for long. Once his filial promises have been fulfilled and he has an engineering degree, he'll go a little nuts and start doing something completely unexpected and dorky, like making and selling his own Star Wars quilts, or something unexpected and cool, like being a professional bonsai artist. Chances are, he might decide to do an MBA. At which point, you must leave him.

Similar(ish) articles you might enjoy:

How To Date An Indian (Advice For The Non-Indian) - which, really, started it all.

and the not-so-reverent:

How To date An American Chick (For The Non-American)

Andrea Miller And The Hungry-India-Poor-India-Sexy-India

[Most important addendum: I loathe Metallica, and am not into either Tarantino or Mani Ratnam movies. Please don't hurt me.]

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