Excuse the delay, but I have been busy being busy.

Oof, the blessed term paper has finally been written, submitted and deciphered. I don't know whether it has been printed out yet, but I'm not particularly concerned anymore. Never again am I going to attempt a paper on something that does not have e-resources, or requires excerpts in Bangla to be typed out on one computer and visible on another. BornoSoft! Call us juvenile, but it does make us think 'PornoSoft'.
I'm becoming extremely partial to gelato these days. Which is strange, because normally I cannot abide anything sweet much. Ice cream, one scoop, is good when it occurs once every two weeks. But more than that is overmuch and makes me feel nauseous. But nowadays, as soon as I hear the word 'gelato', something goes 'plink!' in my head, and I feel an insane desire to run to the nearest parlour or somesuch. I've had ice cream thrice in less than seven days. On two of those occasions, I have been treated by ND and RBC. I just walked up to them and said 'Treat?' and they obliged. Wonderful people they are. I suppose I should feel a little ashamed for being such an inveterate freeloader, but then again, gluttons don't do contrition. And PB (whose classes I have bunked just so that I could go eat because I was hungry) and Babu (who started calling me 'Hungry Dog' after a while) and A (who has fed me about a twenty nine thousand times till now) and many others will testify to my unquenchable gluttony.
But the excessive consumption of cold substances is now beginning to tell. I had fever yesterday, and my throat feels raw, like it has been scraped on the inside with sandpaper (I was about to say 'a blunt razor', but then decided against going overboard). I also did much shouting on Friday because of the M.A. Admission Test (yes yes, the most effective way of chasing hapless and irksome parents of examinees off campus still remains the sight of many many female volunteers lighting their cigarettes), but that is potentially an entire post all by itself. It is also likely that A passed off some of his infection onto me. But I was stupid and extremely inconsiderate and made him exert much even though he had fever to feel anything other than guilty about all of that. And now that my fever is gone, I feel even guiltier.
I went to Roxy for the first time on Wednesday, and really liked it. The decor is nice, and the music is fairly good - the DJ changes the music if you request, and their own selection isn't entirely deplorable. They have a smallish dance floor kind of thing, and I very happily danced, and shook much butt. Which reminds me - have you watched the video of Shakira's 'Hips Don't Lie'? Whooof, that woman has some booty! New catchphrase for the week is H.C.B.S. - Horniness Causing Butt Shaking, as opposed to H.S.B.C. - the bank. Spare us your glares, we care not that you think our puns are imbecilic. But, to get back to Roxy - the women who attend to our table was somewhat bizzare. And i have never seen someone so eager to get her hands on a stirrer - she picked mine up and disappeared within a second and a half of it being put down on the table (atop a napkin, mind you - so that it doesn't stain the table and all), and she actually snatched AR's stirrer right out of his hand. But my only real complaint about the place is that is so freaking expensive! But then again, I didn't foot the bill, so it is all good. I am sure someone somewhere will make me pay someday for all this free-dom.
Anyway, I am a most excellent butt-shaker, I assure you. After all, that is what made Sanju-Baba luuurve me so, until of course I made A crash the lunch date that I had accidentally and ill-advisedly accepted. At which point, he turned hostile and left with the CD that he was 'borrowing' from me, never to be heard of again. Well, that's actually an exaggeration, since I have his number, but I don't want to call him up and risk a conversation with him. Besides, shouldn't it be his prerogative to return what is rightfully mine, especially since I'd specified that I want it back soon? Gah. Sanju-Baba CD thief. Seedy Thief. Am I not just the Queen of Wit, today?
Now, on to Orkut. I am not sure whether to love it or hate it. Ever since I've put my picture back up on it (yes yes, I am a vain little creature, what are you going to do about it?), my scrapbook has been flooded with messages from people who want to 'make frndsip' with me. Those I can ignore, but there are these very many annoying people that I know from various points of my life have started tracking me down, and it's hard to ignore them without being overtly rude, and I would like to maintain a semblance of civility, no matter how much I dislike them. On the other hand, it has also helped me locate some people that I really like and had lost touch with. So should I delete my profile or not? What to do? What to do?
In other news, my cricketing skills have gone from non-existent to sub-existent. While bowling to Chomsky Kaku in college, I managed to bowl about eight ludicrous delivereies each for every decent one that I bowled. Bleargh.
And oh! I want a job. I really need one, in fact. I cannot do broke any more. That apart, I really would like to work part time. I'm twenty one. It's hight time I got myself some experience. I am a decent writer, a fairly competent editor, and am very good at proofing. I have no referneces, but I could conceivably get some recommendations for my writing. Are any of you wonderful people who read my blog likely to offer me a job? Do you know anyone who'd want to?
I am quite tired of typing now. So I think I'll stop here. Especially since I am essentially rambling about nothing.

By the way, this post is dedicated to the insane milliner who lurks hither and thither, since he complained that my blog is a 'bad investment' because it has 'no meat'. It still has no meat, but at least it has a longish post, now.

P.S.: I just realised - three men that I have mentioned in this post share the same initials.

P.P.S: I'm feeling sentimental something terrible today. Buy me ice cream, someone?