Archive for October, 2010


A “Feeling-ey” Post

You know what I miss? The “good old days” of a few months ago. When I didn’t know who half most people posting on kottu were, and trolls were funny. I yearn for the days of laughing at the Whackster’s emo outbursts and Saint Fallen’s Miley Cyrus posts. Then there were the occasional weirdos that showed up and disappeared in a few weeks. Sometimes I thought that if sexual frustration could be harnessed, some of the blogs that showed up could power the country for a good six months. And then there was Papareboy.

Nowadays I don’t even get to read most blogs. I just never get around to it. Instead I spend my time on the internet doing things like downloading Katy Perry albums. I freely admit this because my manliness is as boundless as Chavie’s enthusiasm to post positive comments everywhere. I trust it further than I can kick a cat, which is quite far. Last time I tried I got an email from Gliese 581 cursing me to hell for introducing parasites to their pristine planet.

In other news, I am going to install a Linux distro on my laptop and see if I can use it as my main OS. I’ll have windows on for games of course, but that’s quite rare on the laptop so I don’t think I’ll need it much.


Off to Kitulgala. Again.

People made use of the long weekend in a myriad of ways. Some hung out with friends, some took some much needed rest and still others might have gone sheep wrestling(It’s the new in thing, I assure you). I, along with a few dozen people from various Roteract clubs, decided to banish ourselves to the wilderness of Kitulgala like a bunch of lepers seceding from society.

It’s no coincidence that we ended up going there again. A long time ago, a friend(A) and I went along with another friend(B) who was in the Leo club to Kitulgala, that time with a bunch of Leo club members. It was fun in that way that we like to get away from civilization for three days or so. So sneakily, my friend(A), who is by now in one of the few billion Roteract clubs scattered around Sri Lanka, decided it’d be great for his club to organize something like that. So we ended up doing the same thing all over again.

I still haven’t really gotten why these clubs exist. They don’t seem to do much. It’s as if they banded together out of a sheer lack of people to hang out with. I mean, you can go on wilderness retreats and paint people’s orphanages with your friends too, you know?

So anyway, we get there and the program is slightly different. We are told there will be “water activities” and later, white water rafting even. Cursing the fever I’d been suffering from the previous three days and under the influence of which I still was, I hoped to God I’d be able to shimmy along the ground guerrilla style as well as the skinny girl standing next to me. Listening to the same motivational speeches and spiel about the environment needing to be saved(you have to admit, saying it needed to be saved while standing someplace where the very buildings had vines growing on them wasn’t quite effective) got old fast.

I usually make good first impressions. If conditions are favourable and the person the impression is being made on is of a decent sort I usually come off as not only dashing and refreshing but also funny. Sometimes even more adjectives that end in -ing. Unfortunately for me, doing the camp thing all over again and the fever helped make a first impression worthy of someone straight out of a Green Day video. Skulking around in the organizers’ cabin wasn’t very social behaviour. When the time came to pick a team leader, I was nowhere near any position to be put up, as opposed to last time, when the team, clearly seeing that failure to pick someone who can recite the part numbers of nearly every video chipset released in the past few years would result in their utter failure to survive in the savage wilderness of Kitulgala, and hence their violent deaths, probably with angry natives and fire-ants involved, picked me to lead them to victory which only my particular brand of self-praise and doting on grammar could bring them. But I digress(While also boasting. See how good I am at this leadership business?).

Things were further confused for me when one of the teams decided to call themselves the “Tweeters”. My initial geeky reaction was to check twitter to see if anyone had mentioned it. Then, seeing that nobody had mentioned it, I switched to sleuth mode and, pulling my magnifying glass and trench coat out, went looking for answers. After going through half the team and being laughed at for my trench coat, and many lengthy arguments about it’s usefulness in the jungles near Ginigathhena, I found out they picked it simply because the team before them picked the name they were going to use and it was the first thing that popped into their heads. Dreams of a strange twitter meet-up in the wilderness shattered, I slunk off back to my sand covered bed. Suffice to say the rest of the trip was overshadowed by this terrible revelation.

In short, I went off to camp in the hills where we dived off of overhanging rocks into pools of water, hiked a few k’s through the jungle and went white water rafting. it was plenty fun, even if most of it was a repeat. I’d readily recommend it if you’re into that kind of thing.


Yet Another Year

It’s October again!

Besides being the month which used to be called Winmonth(if the internet is to be believed), October was also voted “Most likely to breed amazing people” in it’s graduating class of 753 BC. The 14th, the birth date of yours truly, also gave the world the Walkman, ushering in a new era of being able to carry around awesomeness in your pocket.

Bitter with jealousy at not being born in this glorious month, people have also given October “Mental Illness Awareness Week” and curiously, “Domestic Violence Remembrance Month”. You’d think the last thing people affected by domestic violence would want to do is remember all of it. People born outside October are evil.


I’m turning … a certain age. An age which is supposed to entail “freedom” and “adulthood”. Psh. Freedom I already have, and adulthood, as teenagers the world over enunciate, is “overrated”. I apologize for being so cliché but when people talk of making a cake in the shape of a key for a birthday meant to celebrate entry into adulthood, I begin to doubt a few things. Yes, I heard talk of making a key-shaped cake for me.

Either way, if these alleged advantages of entering the clubhouse of true adulthood doesn’t entail things such as people worshiping me like they’re at the Katharagama dewale wherever I go , it’s hard to see much point in the “magical” two-one-oh. Or rather, two-one. But that doesn’t sound as catchy. Well, hopefully there’ll be some change. Will report back here if there is.



You lot must have been wondering where I’ve been all these weeks. Do I hear a no? A yes? A “who is that dashing gent? He must be interesting”?

Well I was here. I hadn’t gone anywhere and I wasn’t much busier than I usually am. I just never got round to posting anything because nothing particularly interesting happened to me. For example the most interesting thing that happened to me in the last few weeks was me going shopping for a keyboard. A computer keyboard. I would have had better luck finding excitement if I went home and stared creepily at kids walking by in the street.

Anyway, while on the hunt for the perfect set of keys to type this post on, I went through an adventure of epic proportions. The kind that historians a few centuries in the future will pun-fully refer to as “One that went all the way from A to Z”. The keyboards of the future will have those two letters very far apart. At first I kept running into the Justin Beibers of the keyboard world. Extremely popular but not very good at what they do, these keyboards were dirt cheap, in price as well as construction. Though that metaphor kind of falls apart if you consider that dirt, or earth, is actually quite solid. But then again that’s only when it’s been compacted. I didn’t get to try that with the keyboards.

Alas, the price of keyboards varies wildly like a woman in the throes of an intense mood-swing. Much like a woman, most were wireless. And very expensive. The worst part was going into a shop and having the salesperson pull out every single keyboard on offer, and then not buying anything. If I were asked that terrible job-interview question of “what is your greatest weakness” it would be feeling extremely guilty when someone puts so much effort into trying to sell me some tiny computer accessory. And then looks at me pleadingly while I mull over the options.

But I digress. But then again I always digress. I am a perpetual digresser. I have known I am unique ever since the fingerprint machine at work refused to accept any of my ten fingers as valid prints. I am the kind to take a cat to a gunfight.

See what I mean about digressing?

In other news, a new semester has begun at class and work goes on at a steady buzzing pace.