Snippet Time

It’s snippet-y time! i.e. these are the days where I can’t be bothered to craft a blog entry. Not that going through some of my older posts suggests that I craft anything…I think my blogging is far more akin to regurgitating.

Old Memories

Bro was cleaning up his room when he found an old group photo of our band in Dharamsala, India. My music teachers were hippies, and we used to go up to Dharamsala and to the Buddhist temples at least once a year.

My brother was like, “Maaan! Look at everyone!” And we reminisced about the people in the photo when my brother noticed, I was not in the photo, despite being on the same trip. In fact, neither were my closest friends in High School at that point: Sayaka, Krista and Melissa. All four of us were missing.

I finally remembered later that the four of us had made the trip some sort of restaurant-hop, we were busy eating momos in some Tibetan restaurant. For some bizarre reason, the four of us goofed around Dharamsala quite a bit and spent a chunk of time eating. So much for being good girls =)

Words that I hate

The Guardian ran an article today on words that you dislike and various people are contributing. My contribution would be:


ball-park figure – i.e. I’m pulling this number out of my ass

value-add – most of the work we use to do never had any ‘value-add’, term was almost used in irony

glocal – Global and local. I hate it.

hubby – oh, how I despise this word! It makes me feel like a weak little woman. ‘Oh, save me hubby! I can’t lift this pot, hubby! Let me bear your babies, hubby!’

Argie! I am woman. Hear me roar.

incentivise – blergh. You have to incentivise me the moment I hear that word.

quan person – that’s just being lazy. Everyone ought to be a quan person, if not they’re using ball-park figures for everything. Who on earth goes around saying they’re a qual(-itative) person?

There’s another government term in here that I’ve forgotten, suppressed memory I suppose, but urgh, each time I heard it at work, I wanted to kill someone.

Murder Mysteries

To all budding murder mystery writers. If you describe a woman as dainty, beautiful and needs to be protected, all your readers will automatically figure out that she’s the killer. No motive needed. Dainty, beautiful women are as cliched as the butler who did it.

Actually, there are so few butlers who did it that it’d be nice to read a mystery where the butler actually did it.


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