This post is incoherent, verbose and a mild indication of the severe lack of r&r in my existence… read on, but only after popping a pill. Any pill.
Things have been absolutely horrifying. I sleep at 2 or 3 and am up awake at 7 and that isn’t in itself such a difficult thing except that it’s hard to pull it off every day. Not to mention that aside from from shorter new hair, I look like crap. If that doesn’t convince you then let me also tell you that this term, I haven’t taken a single weekend break. No siree no. I ain;t got the time…
My exams are next week and I am fully prepared. To fail. Now you say that makes no fucking sense. If I’m not sleeping and not bumming around, I should be studying. To quote an 80s band, A-ha! I’ve had group case assignments and individual reports due everyday- at one point it was 3 per day.
Here’s my theory- I believe the professors sat around a round table drinking martinis and one of them said (in a Dr.Evil accent), “I have a plan- let’s fuck these smug-ass students- give ’em more load than a camel in Arabia. A camel that belongs to a Sheikh whose other camels died of the plague, and now the Sheikh has to move house. Muahahhaha!” And another professor added, “No no that’s not enough, let’s make the course material, the case studies and the exam papers completely unrelated- now THAT will make their heads spin till really bad retro prints!” And a third said “And then we will launch the nuclear missile into the heart of the developed world, UNLESS they pay us 400 billion dollars! Muahahahahaa!”
And the rest of the professors gave dirty looks to the third professor because clearly, he was in the wrong movie.
It’s not that I haven’t had any fun. I said no no no. It’s been fun central if you can manage it- I’m managing it. Of course, I will fail my exams next week as per the POPP.
Principle 1: There is a direct negative corelation between your grades and the number of parties you attend.
Principle 2: The magnitude of grade depreciation is a direct function of the time you spend at a party and is multiplied by 3 for every hour after midnight.
Principle 3: The magnitude of grade depreciation is EXPONENTIALLY negatively corelated to nearness of your parties to your exam date.
Whoa Nelly! If I said it’s been one hell of a week, well, it’d be literally true. Because it’s been hell. In fact the last 3 weeks have been treacherously tough for me and probably everyone else at school- but more so for me given the desis picked this week to organise the desi week. And you know me, I was heavily involved. I played an irritating Indian mom in a really hilarious skit (very easy for me given how dramatic my family confrontations have been of late, nay? piece of cake). I choreographed 2 dances which we danced to on Wednesday night. Oh oh and I designed the teeshirt for the week. Got some props for it.. creative design and all.. I’m darned proud. I’ve worn indian outfits all week- which is more than I’ve worn the entire year. I’m a bad Indian- bite me.
But yes, this week has been horrid and the gorgeous circles under my eyes are living proof. I haven’t had time to eat or sleep. Submission after submission. I’m telling you- this mba business is no walk in the park. It’s a crawl in the park. A park of dung and thorns. Yeap, that about summarizes it.
So, yes exams are approaching. I am shrugging in denial. I think I’ll get fucked over. We have three weeks of vacations and i haven’t planned a holiday. So guess what, I’m gonna spend my christmas break here- I’ll be engaging in the thrilling activity of packing my belongings because next year I’ll be winding up… ah big moves big moves..
In other news, one of my girlfriends back in Bombay got married. You know what that means. It’s cue “you need to think about getting married” for my parents and “exit stage left” for me. And those arguments happen too often these- I’m bored. And don’t even THINK about getting Brendan into this. There is a major trust issue between us.
He trusts me as much as a I’d trust a 3-legged lizard with my homework. (I trust him as much as I’d trust a 4 legged lizard- with cooking a 3-course dinner, which is marginally better. Because lizards, if they can’t cook, can be dinner themselves!)
In other other news, let me tell you about the ball..the monsoon ball..which was two weeks ago. It was almost your regular dinner and dance except it was at a hotel by the beach and everyone was dressed to the tee. Oh and I was a supermodel for one night. Or as Claro would put it, “the shortest but cutest model I’ve ever seen”. Ah, flattery. Details? We had two lines- the business wear line and cultural line. I was part of the cultural lineup. Umm…I was a Hawaiian girl. Basically, I wore a beautiful Hawaiian sarong and ginormous floral headgear and matching red shoes (ahem, model’s own, of course). The look was madcute and I say this even though I believe I am as much of a model as Jessica Alba is a nuclear physicist. But as Shonna, the pretty real model who organised the event said, ” you’re doing this in front of people who love you”, so in a sense, it was not all about vanity.
The show kicked ass. The only downside for me was that the makeup was sponsored and it was professional. Now let me tell you something about pro makeup. It’s ugly. It’s like white icing on a chocolate cake- an inch thick and in severe contrast. Now factor flash photography and you’ll know why all my pre-fashion photos in my lovely black dress make me look like a tiny, smiley phantom.
So as you can see, there’s so much going on in my average day that I often wonder whether the days are still 24 hours long. It’s hard work- even if it’s just wrapping a sarong around yourself and walking down a runway.
And as Amy Winehouses would croon,
If they tried to make me go to rehab, I wouldn’t go go go. (The song’s fucking awesome.. try it!)