Month: September 2015

Beautifully irrelevant.

To all the crazies out there, you’re not alone

I’m a very random person. Most of my conversations with my friends don’t start with hello. They are more of an omg-I-just-saw-this-dress-and-I-HAVE-to-buy-it nature.

When something exciting happens, and my friends are not with me, I call them and shriek into their ear before they can even get a word out. *chuckles*

Just today I was telling one of my friends that I have just added her to the list.

Me: I have added you to my call-them-and-randomly-shriek-into-their-ear.

Friend: Hahaha, I think I’m okay with that.

Me: Okay with that? Bitch, please. You are going to love it.

Friend: That’s going on your blog, isn’t it?

Me: Hehehehehe. I’m writing it as we speak.

I also change topics a lot. I would be talking about something with my friends, and then out of the blue I just change the topic. And my friends go all, “woah! When did we start talking about THIS now?”

Me: Um, since now?

Like, for example, I sent this to said friend. This is a continuation of the aforementioned conversation, by the way.

Me: Hold on, let me send it to you.

Friend: *after reading it*

Hahaha, you’re crazy.

Me: But you love me. *flutters eyelashes*

*a second later*

Dude, omg. I have this exam tomorrow, and I’m completely freaking out!!! I can’t talk right now, bye.

Friend: Wait a minute. Where did this come from?

Now, let me tell you how this would have taken place if we had been talking in person, rather than over the text.

Let us assume said friend is sitting somewhere. I come and plop down next to her and start talking before her brain can catch up with my sudden appearance out of seemingly thin air.

Me: I saw this amazing black dress on flipkart yesterday, but my mom wouldn’t let me order it.

Friend: *gets into the conversation since this is very normal behaviour for me*

Why not?

Me: She says I have too many black dresses already, which is absurd because everyone knows there is no such thing as “too many black dresses.”

Friend: Haha, your mom. *shakes head* You should just order it, babe

Me: I have an exam tomorrow that I’m completely freaking out about, so I need to go study. I can’t talk right now, see you later.

*gets up and leaves*

Friend: *baffled expression* Was I not having a conversation with a human being just a second ago?

I realize this is a very random post. I have observed that I often get ideas for my posts when I’m doing the dishes. I wonder what is up with THAT.

-The Girl Lost In The Bookstore

A post without periods.

One of the worst feelings about losing someone you used to be close to, is when you talk to them again, and they don’t even make an effort to keep the conversation going, and you feel like you’re talking to yourself, and you realize how much things have changed, and how much about them you don’t know, and you don’t even know what questions to ask because you just don’t know what’s going on in their life, and the best thing you can come up with are empty conversation fillers like “what’s up”, and you can’t even ask them about their life because you don’t know if you still have the right to ask them that, so you settle for the little things that they do tell you, and you make your own theories, and you convince yourself that you shouldn’t worry about their life because they clearly aren’t worried about yours, but you’re screaming inside because you want to tell them how much you miss them, and you want to ask them if they miss you, and whether it hurts them too that you have drifted apart, and you sit there listing all the reasons you think they won’t miss you, but some part of you is hoping that some part of them misses you, and it finally hits you that they don’t really care, and maybe its better to let things go and make a clean break rather than hanging on by a thread because its just too painful.

And, if you have reached the end of that sentence, you have my massive respect.

-The Girl Lost In The Bookstore

Help, I’m high!

To N, my favourite person in the whole world

I had been inhaling paint fumes all day. Wow, I just realized that’s not a very good way to start this post. Hold off on the judgements, please. I’m not some crazy weirdo who spends her days inhaling paint fumes, and getting high off of them.

We were getting our windows painted. They had been at it all day. I was reading a book, which I finished around 11. I was sitting around, thinking of what to do with my life now that my book was finished, when I smelled it.

Me: *sniffs* Is that.. Paint?

Mom: They’ve been at it all day.

Me: How the hell did I miss THAT?

Mom: Well, if you would put down your book for a minute..

Me: *holds up hand* Enough.

I could literally feel the fumes going to my head. By the time midday rolled around, I had a terrible headache from all the paint-inhaling.

I was getting a little cranky, and I was grumbling to my friends.

Friend: What’re you doing?

Me: Inhaling paint fumes.

Friend: Haha, I get high when I inhale paint fumes.

Me: You know that’s going on my blog, right?

I had my exams the next day, and I hadn’t started studying. Due to the paint-fumes-induced headache of course. Oh, don’t you worry. I ended up not going to the exam, after all. Hahaha! Great, now I sound like a deranged psychotic.

Since I wasn’t studying anyway, I was stalking people on WordPress (haha, kidding. I’m not a stalker!), and I decided to check my goodreads. I started shrieking when I saw that an author had contacted me, and asked me if I would be interested in reading an early copy of her book that was going to be released on 30th, since I had put her book on the to-read list.

I said yes, naturally. I believe the exact words I used were “OMG ARE YOU KIDDING ME OF COURSE I WOULD LOVE THAT.” Apparently, I didn’t scare her off after that, because she sent me the book. (I’ll post the review after I’m done.)

Then, I proceeded to call my friends and shriek into their ears.

Me: OMG YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED!

Friend: What is it? AND WHY ARE WE SHOUTING?

Me: AN AUTHOR CONTACTED ME. SHE WANTS ME TO READ AN EARLY COPY IF HER BOOK AND DO A REVIEW!

Friend: OMG THAT IS AMAZING I’M SO EXCITED!!

That’s pretty much how my whole day went. *chuckles* Sorry for the long post. Now I’m tempted to add “here’s a potato”, like they do in 9gag, but I realized that would be very weird, and also that I don’t have a potato.

-The Girl Lost In The Bookstore¬†(Yep, I’ve decided that’s going to by my new signature! *proud smile*)

The air-hostess job.

When I was a kid, I was fascinated with air -hostesses. They get to wear these pretty dresses, and they get to fly all the time! For free! And they get to go to different places. How exciting! (In my defence, I was a kid.) I thought their only job was to help the passengers! And enjoying the flight, of course.

The first time I flew, it was an eye-opener. In the airport, I saw so many air hostesses, they were dressed so prettily! They looked like dolls. I was pointing them out to my mother and shrieking “omg if I become one, I get to wear pretty dresses!!” My mom didn’t say anything, she was just smirking.

Then we boarded the plane. There was an air hostess who was escorting people to their seats. After the plane took off, yet another one started giving instructions. So far so good. Then after a while, two of them brought us food. Everything was going fine. But then, after everybody had eaten, they came and started collecting everybody’s trash. Oh, well. Seems like we had a bit of a problem. I’m a very lazy person who, half the time, asks my dad to bring me water from the kitchen which is two steps away. Me, collecting trash? Yeah, that was hilarious. Oh, boy. My mom silently started smirking beside me.

Me: *groans and covers face with hands*

My dreams are shattering before my eyes and you laugh, mother?

Mom: *full-on laughing now*

Me: I can see the pieces of my shattered dream on the floor.

Mom: Oh, stop being so dramatic. *rolls eyes*

Oh, and they were supposed to be nice to all the passengers. Even the ones who were rude and irritating. And we all know I’m not nice. I’m incapable of being nice to people who are rude and irritating! And, it turns out, there’s a minimum height requirement, too.

Oh, well. I guess that career path is put for me. *deep dramatic sigh*

P.S. No offence to any air-hostesses out there.

-R

A letter to you.

Hi. I’ve been wanting to say a couple of things to you for a long time, but whenever I had the chance to say them out loud, I somehow couldn’t form the words. So I decided to do what I do best, write them instead.

This is not a letter about how much I love you, or how much you mean to me. Because you know all of that already. And, I know that you love me too. And I also know how much. I’m the first-and sometimes, only- person you tell stuff to. I’m the person you call bursting with news because you couldn’t wait another minute to tell me. I’m the person that saves you from yourself, the one that is always there for you. I’m the one that keeps all of your broken pieces glued together.

And you’re all those things for me, too. You’re there for me. You’re there for all the important things. And, I wish that were enough. But, it’s not. I want¬†need you to be there for the unimportant things, too. The little things that do not matter, I need you for those, too.

I hate the fact that you take me for granted. Hate the fact that you think I won’t go anywhere. And, I hate myself more because it’s true. I hate that your problems always overshadow mine. For once in your life, I want you to stop talking about your life, and really pay attention to what’s happening in mine. Even if it’s not interesting, even if you’re bored out of your mind, I want you to just.. Listen. And, I hate that I keep hoping for this to happen, even though I more than likely know that it won’t. I want you to be the kind of friend that I am to you.

I know you’re probably never going to read this. I guess it’s one of the main reasons I had the courage to write this. And, truth be told, I don’t want you to read this. Because I’m scared of what might happen if you do. About what comes after that. Because, no matter what, I don’t think I want there to be an end.

Still all the love in the world, R