I’ve just returned from a weekend away with my family. It was great, despite The Worst Weather In The World™, but I realised something: my sister and I may be in our mid-twenties, but some things will never change when we go away en famille. There are recurring themes.

1) What is billed as a “pleasant stroll” will turn into an epic hike

Dartmoor: it's bleak up there

Some of my fondest, but also most painful, childhood memories come from family walks. They usually involved Dad pretending he knew where we were going (he didn’t), and my sister and I asking “are we nearly back at the car yet?” every five minutes.  Dad would say “it’s just round this corner” for about two hours, before having to admit defeat in the face of us refusing to go any further. He would then run along the road to get the car. There was no rescue party this weekend. Instead we braved The Worst Weather In The World™ - think the sort of rain that hurts when it hits you, coupled with gale force winds. To make it

Consulting the World's Crappest Map

worse, we were on Dartmoor, possibly the bleakest place ever. It was cold, wet and our paper map disintegrated. Then there were fears that the clapper bridge (a bridge made of stone, apparently) would be submerged – Dad’s from Cumbria, think he got a bit carried away with all the flooding stories. It was all looking very bad, until it turned out the the bridges were not underwater, and we were so wet and cold we stopped noticing. Suddenly it all became quite funny. I look forward to the next one.

2) Inappropriate clothing will be worn

The perfect outfit?

When I was younger I think I definitely went through a stage of only wanting to wear heels, a la Victoria Beckham in those wedge-heeled trainers on the baseball pitch. These days, I like to think I’m quite practical. This trip I came armed with walking boots, socks and a waterproof jacket. Pity I forgot to bring any other trousers apart from my skinnies. Unsurprisingly they were too tight to walk in. Every step cut off my circulation a little more. My sis fared no better, she was rocking a pink wellies and leggings combo. Only Dad managed to look the part (and a bit of a twat) in waterproof trousers.

 3) I will argue with my sister

For the record, I love my sister, but, like all siblings she can be very annoying. She’s only two years older, so we’re quite close. We also share similar taste (and size) in clothes. Recently she complimented me on my top and asked where I got it from. I told her and thought nothing else of it. Mistake. As we were unpacking our bags on the first night, she got out an outfit to wear the next day. There was MY top, or rather, her new top that was exactly the same as my one. Yes, she had intentionally bought the same one as me.  She then declared that she was going to wear it, and that I couldn’t do anything thing about it. It was that weird sibling hierarchy thing, where the oldest is in control. It was like when we were younger and mum would buy us the same things but different colours, usually pink and purple. My darling sis would always get the pink one and I’d be left with the more boyish, purple one. (A disaster for a pink-loving, boy-hating girl.)

So, this weekend, tradition prevailed and she wore the top. And later, when we were choosing bedrooms in the holiday home, guess who got the biggest one? I’ll give you a clue..not me..

4) Mum will think she knows best

It usually happens when I order steak. I say I’d like it medium rare. Without fail, in front of the waiter, Mum says “are you sure? It will be bloody” . Yes mother dearest, I know. That’s the way I like it. She forgets it’s her who doesn’t like rare meat.  She does the same thing when I try and order chardonnay – it tastes “like nail polish”, apparently. (God knows how the mothership knows what nail varnish tastes like.) V.annoying yet faintly endearing. 

 5) It will end in a board game

Everyone claims to hate them (except my sister who has a sadistic love of Boggle), but somehow we always end up playing them. The oldies but goodies tend to work best. Think Pictionary or Taboo, nothing too complex, the parentals can’t take it. We tried Cranium once, it was a disaster as there were too many different materials to work with. Whatever happens, my sister and I always win and the parents become convinced they’re descending into senility. Fun times all round.

We were playing Pictionary, Jr tonight, and it was James’ turn to draw. Here is his card and his picture. He drew word #4.

Do you get it? It’s a snail. Don’t get it yet? Let me see if this will help you:

Who lives in a pinepple under the sea?

BWAHAHA!!

One of the best parts about having a studio is sharing it with friends. You have met our terrific neighbors before in this blog…Sue and Zola Lloyd. Together with their loyal pup Jed, they put all other neighbors to shame…simply the best.

This summer we started a game night tradition with them and Zola’s cousin Zack … and what better game for an art studio than pictionary. Pizza and Pictionary Nights have become our favorite and the uproars of laughter and loud guessing from teammates is good for the heart and the soul.

Til next time guys…

This past weekend we did what I love to do.

Eat, Drink and play.

Which translated having  friends over, who consumed huge amount of food and drinks and played pictionary.

Have you even drank and played Pictionary? No? Well, I highly recommended it, because drinking and pictionary equals hilarious behavior by people.

Don’t believe me?

Start planning your very own pictionary party now, and then come back here, to pat me on the back for making you (and your guest) laugh until you pee in your pants.

I love playing games, any type of games that you get to act silly and shout out stupid answers and then totally blame it on the bottle of liquor you have in your hand is totally up my alley.

This weekend we decided to go all out, invite a couple of Tom’s friends and see who could take the heat play a friendly game of pictionary.

Now, I’m going to plug a new version of pictionary here because the folks over in Mattel have taken it to another level and turned this favorite board game into a 3D Electronic experience (it was a matter of time folks). May I present you the Pictionary Man – Ta da!

Aren't you a cute little bunny?

Yes, it looks sort of basic and blah, but,  people, two words:

FUN TIME!

The rules of the games are pretty much the same.  The Pictionary “Man” which is a blank human shaped figure made of, what seems to be, a dry erase board type material.  On the bottom of the foot of the “Man” one finds an on/off switch, an LED display and two buttons (labeled 1 and 2, respectively). Once you press it, it will spit out the clue that you will need to draw.  The twist, is that you draw on the man, and use the props to convey the clues.  If one’s teammates guess the subject successfully, then the team gets a point. The first team to reach 15 points wins.

While Tom and the other couple had never played the “regular” pictionary before, they were able to pick up on this pretty fast. For me it took me a while to get the hang of it, since I was so use to doing it the old way. But, eventually I got it and it was not long before we were jumping up and getting more creative with our role playing.  Because in this game,  you role play A LOT! The need to use the props makes you become very inventive. When one of us got “Smuggler”, it was hysterical to see the interpretation using the man and one of the props.  Think about it – a man, a square and you need to translate that into “smuggler”.

It was such a great night, we are totally going to try to have them happen more often, trying out more games along the way, but for now Pictionary Man will go into rotation with other favorites.  Plus, Tom’s friend are a total blast and personally I would like to have them around more – hi guys – (We totally DIG YOU!)

As far as the food, for those wondering (Hi Mo!), it was a total hit, with numerous requests of the recipes, which I will be posting over in Sweet Bites (click your way over there) as the weeks go by, but you can get a feel of it with this visual:

Makes you want to dig in, right?

The menu was composed of Spinach Dip, Asparagus in a blanket, Chicken Quesadillas, Rajas, Bean Dip and last but not least (and a total hit) a wheel of Brie en Croute (Pastry Crust) and of course for a sweet ending a Tres Leche cake.

Hungry yet?

This past weekend, I played Scrabble twice. On both occasions, I lost. It felt terrible losing and I am making it a new goal in my life to be better at it. In fact, I strive to be so good that I win a game. Competing with decently smart people.

I feel I’ve grown competent in the following games:

* Dr. Mario (undefeated winner)
* Super Mario Brothers 3 (without warping, baby!)
* Mario Kart (assuming I play Wario)
* Clue (I don’t claim to be the best, but I’m pleased with my competency)
* Pictionary (Guaranteed winner if one of my friends is on my team)
* Worms (Not a guaranteed winner, but I’m pretty good)

I hope to add Scrabble to the list. Since I do not have the scrabble game, I will practice in my head.

Connect 4 - in French

As D. and I mentally prepare to leave France in just a few weeks, I’m keeping my eyes open for cool gifts to bring back home for the holidays.

Naturally, I think mostly of food gifts — honey from our village, vinaigrettes, flavored mustards, glazed chestnuts, spice for “spiced bread,” poppy syrup, etc.

But today I opened up a store advertisement someone had placed in our mailbox, and I noticed it was the Christmas gift edition. And, guess what? The French have the same children’s games we have in America — only in French!

Shocking, I know.

Operation, in France

But I keep thinking about how cool it would have been, when I was a little girl, to have received a board game I knew how to play – but in French.  For example? “Docteur Maboul,” which we, in the US, know as “Operation.”  You just know that if you had owned the French version of this game when you were in elementary school, you would have been the most popular playdate friend around.

Guess Who?

I’ve also seen Connect 4 under the name “Puissance 4,” and, my personal favorite, “Que est-ce?” — or Guess who? You remember — the one where you play the part of a Maricopa County detective, using racial-profiling to nab suspects?   “Does he have dark skin? “Does his look Hispanic?” “Does he have a funny-sounding name?” “Is he driving a minivan?” (Just kidding, “Guess Who” fans. I know, I know, it’s an innocent game ).

 I think it would be really fun to play “Guess Who?” in French.  Especially because, from what I can tell, they’ve “Frenched” the game up a bit, changing the characters names to things like “Sophie” and “Phillipe” and “Bernard.” Unless these were the original English names, too, I’m not sure.  On a positive note, at least  the woman who wears a beret in her photo doesn’t look as ridiculous when you play the game in France.

The advertisement also shows the game Pictionary: Un mot en un coup de crayon. I think I’d really like to buy this game, then suggest playing Pictionary with my US friends. Without telling them, I’ll just bust the French version out and watch their confusion grow as they pick cards and realize they can’t read them. Same thing with the game “Taboo.”

Anyhow, I doubt I will actually end up buying any of these games. They’re too bulky and heavy to bring back on an airplane and, plus, I don’t really know any 8-year-olds who would enjoy them. Which is a shame. Because I would really love to be the “cool” aunt or cousin who brings back foreign board games. Oh well. Maybe someday.

I don’t recall Halloween being so much fun until we had a mini gathering at Ken’s place on Saturday. As he had mentioned in his Facebook message to us closer to the party, it will be “cozy” — and it was.

The sudden downpour on a Halloween night left me competing for a cab around dinner time. For the first time in my not so many years in Singapore, the cab hotline service tested my patience. But that didn’t dampen my party mood. Sadly, I arrived late and delayed Ken, Julu, and Karl’s desire to nourish their bodies with food. (Sorry guys!)

Ken did not fail to impress us as a superb host — from his lovely home, to the Halloween accents, awesome desserts + liquor, and the Halloween MP3’s (which I think scared the hell out of Karl haha) — he really made sure all of us had a great time. Thanks Ken!

That was the roundest pumpkin I've ever seen in recent memory

Yummy - biryani, curry meats, western appetizers and desserts, Japanese skewers

I also bought two (2) boardgames to keep our minds active on a rainy night.

Instead of drawing on paper with clues on cards, you use whiteboard markers on the Pictionary Man and a few other objects. The mystery word is displayed electronically at the foot of the P-Man.

Ken's artistic impression of "Little Red Riding Hood". We were teammates and I blurted, "The Exorcist" Haha

"Eye Exam" by Julu. Quite clever huh.

For this game, two teams compete at the same time within 90 secs to get as many "letters" along such A-Z strip to their side by naming a person/item based on the category. Julu and Karl did well on "class subjects" ; Ken and I did well on "int'l hotel chains". Hmm, there goes the age difference.

Play the above boardgames + a few others next time you visit my place. But until then, Google these — they are very entertaining.

Other camwhoring photos, quality check done by Julu, the MBA camwhoring grad.

Ken, Karl, Julu's aerial shot

Julu and Karl bullying Ken. Such ungrateful guests! :p

Ken and I and a 20+ year old man in a secondary school boy body.

Later that night, we stumbled upon Ben, Duncan, Jeremy, and other friends in their costumes.

I was telling Eugene and Veria, two friends I had lunch with earlier on Saturday, that I can’t stay up beyond 3am anymore. That’s why I couldn’t believe why I managed to last until 5am. Well, Halloween only happens once a year so I’m glad it was truly worth remembering… and I didn’t need to dress up so much for it.

{ J & J surprise baby shower }  9 of 10
So this game was exponentially more complicated. It was a relay with three legs. The first being, a blindfolded person must find clothespins in a pan of rice with the help of a buddy. The next leg was guessing baby-themed songs through pictionary. The last was drinking juice from a bottle. kinda of hard, yeah? Very entertaining to watch.

I really appreciate any opportunity to practice using my camera, so I feel completely honored to shoot the surprise shower for Jas and Joel!

Net zoals ik redelijk kan inschatten wat Zus leuk vindt, kan zij dat andersom ook erg goed voor mij. Ik ontving namelijk via de post (ik hartje pakjes in de post!!) onlangs een verjaardagscadeau van haar. Zus en ik houden allebei wel van een spelletje. Vroeger al zeurden we onze ouders aan hun kop om een spelletje mee te spelen. “Potje Yathzee?” vroeg ik dan. “Of Pictionary!” riep Zus dan. “Sequence misschien?” stelde ik voor. “Of Pictionary!” riep Zus dan. “Monopoly?” probeerde ik. “Of Pictionary!” riep Zus dan. “Vooruit, ik doe wel een potje Yathzee mee,” verzuchtte Mam dan (Pap was niet zo te porren voor spelletjes). “Geen Pictionary?” vroeg Zus dan beteuterd. U kunt wel raden wat haar favoriet was.

De ‘gewone’ spelletjes zijn zeker nog niet van het toneel verdwenen, maar minstens evenveel aandacht wordt tegenwoordig besteed aan computergames. Neejneej en ik begonnen met Singstar en Guitar Hero en raakten helemaal verslaafd. We konden onze lol niet op toen Rockband werd geïntroduceerd en we ook konden gaan drummen. Ik koos ervoor bij Guitar Hero te blijven maar gelukkig kwam ook die game met de World Tour versie met een eigen (en beter) drumstel. Intussen staan er in mijn kamer dus vier gitaren (waarvan één echte), een drumstel en drie microfoons. En ik vind het nog steeds leuk! De Jonge Hond stelde voor een professionele Guitar Hero band te beginnen en daar zit met name Neejneej nu met smart op te wachten.

Maar nu is voor mij het moment aangebroken om mijn loyaliteit aan Guitar Hero even te laten varen en de overstap te maken naar Rockband. Het pakketje dat ik van Zus ontving bevatte namelijk *tromgeroffel* The Beatles: Rockband!! Ik kan nu dus in de huid gaan kruipen van John, Paul, George of Ringo! Woehoe! Even was ik bang dat ik dus nóg een drumstel, microfoon en twee gitaren moest gaan aanschaffen (ervan uitgaande dat de instrumenten van de concurrerende games niet compatible zouden zijn) maar dat blijkt gelukkig overbodig. (Oftewel: hij doet het Zus!) Anders zou het hier wel érg vol worden. Dus.. mocht u me de komende tijd missen, dan loop ik de Ringo uit te hangen. Het is maar dat u het weet.

Like most of my friends, I’m intent on learning about life. I think this is why I get along so well with ‘thinkers’. Many days we’ve spent wrestling heavy questions with our heavier hearts. And most times we just can’t figure it all out. So much is going on inside our heads, often I fall asleep wishing I could see c l e a r l y. I want to open my eyes one morning and see as if I’ve never seen before. To witness my first sunrise again, what would I say?

Let’s, just for a moment, imagine we’re playing a game of pictionary. I suck at pictionary. BUT I am a lot better when I have a big clean sheet of paper to draw on. If I am forced to draw around or on top of images used earlier in the game, you can forget it. I get distracted by the other pictures, and I’m never able to draw what I intend. My hippo turns out looking a lot like the lightbulb it’s residing next to.

In much the same way, I think our lives become clouded with learnings. Even before we were old enough to learn, we were being taught. Taught by our parents, our siblings, our society, our culture, everything. By the time we are able to make decisions on our own, we’ve already been told thousands of times which decision to make and how to make it. Perhaps we’re not forced, but we grow up and grow old being told what to do.

Imagine escaping this. Envision flipping over the pictionary pad to a new, clean, pure sheet of paper. What if today we could start life as a clean sheet of paper? Without having other people’s drawings and influences on our sheet. Perhaps we would have more of a desire to learn without having certain teachings written upon us. Would we see a difference in skin colors if we didn’t know the history that separated them? Would we help our homeless neighbors if we didn’t care that they ‘have problems’? Would we be able to choose who to love without being told ‘it is wrong’? If we’d never heard of capitalism, would we spend every ounce of our energy for that extra dime?

Perhaps if we started with a clean slate, our lives might be a little more different. Whether or not it’d change anything, it’s worth the thought.

[My inspiration for unlearning about life came from a recent Brazen Careerist post that said, "Racism is something we have to un-learn". Here you can find that post titled 'Why I Travel' by Ben Casnocha.]

Julie is NANG for having get togethers like this. I propose Blackjack next. No homo

5. Afterbirth-Yes, effing disgusting, but very appropriate what with all the dead baby jokes going around this holiday weekend. I believe the boys (this was a word picked by the ladies during the bros vs. classy females round) almost got this one.

4. Mangina-An excellent play by Matty O. I am shocked the other team didn’t get this one. Seriously, you draw a man and  a vagina. Man-Gina. Not that difficult. But certainly disturbing.

3. Number 3 on the list was not actually a word, but just a drawing of a penis [see exhibit A under "Nastylicious"]. This is what happens when you try to play games that require a little thought and creativity with a bunch of offensive, drunk 20-somethings that have been bathing in 100+degree weather and alcohol for three days straight.

2. Boarlock-The existence of “boarlocks” was [quite drunkenly] disputed for a good part of Saturday night. Banking on my friends’ ignorance, I finally convinced the majority that boarlocks are creatures from the Harry Potter series. Though this is false, I still stand by their existence and imagine they would look something like this.

And the #1 Pictionary word from Labor Day weekend 2009 is…

1. Nastylicious-

If memory serves this was another winning word from our host with the most. There was a valiant but failed effort by his brother to draw licorice and something…well…nasty. Well played by all.

Much fun was had by all at our first VizThink NYC Pictionary Showdown last Weds.  Thanks to everyone for coming down…!  And much thanks to Heather Willems, Martha Denton, and Nora Herting for organizing a fantastic event.

In spite of the fact that the entire Pictionary event was played under protest by me (ok, not really), it was a great competition and lots of fun.  So much fun, in fact, that I forgot to take lots of photos (just a few).

Aside from the fun, there were several important lessons learned:

• Some great artists occasionally have trouble drawing.
• Some “non-artists” draw fairly well.
• No one should ever have to draw a visual representation of “Totalitarianism.”
• Make sure your event organizers are sober when they plan a Pictionary event.

To see pics from the event, please check out: 

http://www.flickr.com/photos/stevecherches/sets/72157622099639894/

And stay tuned for info about our upcoming VizThink NYC workshop in September…!

Happenings update…

Last week kicked-off the “SenseMaker Dialogs” hosted by Humantific, which they describe as “a new speaker series focused on exploring the rapidly changing hybrid activity of SenseMaking in the 21st century.”  Interesting stuff focused on making sense of complex systems and LOTS of data in order to transform organizations, businesses, and the world.  (No small task.)

This Wednesday, August 19, VizThink NYC hosts our first casual (non-workshop) gathering – a Pictionary (Vizionary?) Showdown at a bar on the Lower East Side.  More about the VizThink Pictionary event here.

In the works…. VizThink NYC is in the planning stages for our September event to be announced soon.  Also, the PowerPresenters Meetup Group is planning our next event.  We’ve got a great venue, and working on bringing in a special guest-speaker.

I’m also working on some training initiatives, some Social Media initatives, and trying to squeeze out what’s left of our shortened New York summer.  Enjoy y’all….

I had a child staying with me these past few days. Not a random child mind – I met her at a service station. Now I am being deliberately misleading, probably to my own detriment so I will stop. Anyway, the aforesaid child is my girlfriend’s ex’s child whom they brought up together for several years (Cue Eastenders theme tune).

Anyway, much of the weekend was spent being justified in immaturity for once – and I loved it. I nearly drowned in the Thames on a rowing boat (I thought tides were for wimps) and I sat in the sun in Hyde Park while the majority of my contemporaries were wasting their lives in office blocks across the city. I got to eat spaghetti shapes that looked like Scooby Doo and eat Haribo until my skin started to seep out cola flavouring and my eyes looked like jelly eggs.

If this wasn’t enough, I went to a ceramics cafe and made myself an olive dish. It is pretty shit, but it has been some time since I attempted pottery of any form and my former impression of Demi Moore splattered in clay has been irreversibly destroyed. Still, I have an olive dish. Now I just need to start eating olives.

What else you ask? I played on an EyeToy. I am at a loss to actually explain what this is, suffice to say it is a webcam that you put on top of your TV and it supplants your head onto that of a cartoon character. It somehow knows when you are moving and how fast and is able to score you on how efficiently you punch up in the air or run on the spot (which is not very in my case). I dismissed this kind of ‘toy’ as modern trash before playing. In fact, as I began to play Simon Says with a virtual drill sergeant on a screen, I cried out, sweat dripping like salty tsunamis from my forehead, ‘What ever happened to board games?’. I admit, Pictionary to me as a child was The Future. It seemed so forward-thinking, all that pencil and paper, coloured squares and big words. I was seriously blown away by the introduction of a small tub of playdough when Cranium burst onto the scene and am still reeling from Monopoly – the DVD edition.

It seems that the days of sitting about on the living room floor getting sore arses playing Cluedo with your grandma are over. The EyeToy and such like are the next generation of interactive games. As much as I hated the concept, and although I know that the assault course would terminate my grandma’s very existence, it wasn’t that bad. I secretly enjoyed beating an 11-year-old in a game of virtual volleyball and I actually did some exercise – so much so that today I feel like I was hit by an HGV on the way to work.

I suggested Scrabble as a suitable post-workout comedown. Instead, we posed for a series of pictures that the i-Toy took of us standing in my living room. On reflection, I worry that the EyeToy is in fact a Russian spy. Or, more likely, a spy from my local council. If you think about it, it is a cunning plan. Trick loads of kids into buying a ‘toy’ that actually can watch people for hours on end in their own homes without arousing any suspicion.

If you read the Daily Mail today (please don’t), it says 1 adult in 78 has come under state surveillance. I wonder if I was one of them. More to the point, what would they discover about me? The fact that I can throw an imaginary javelin 44 metres? Or maybe that I have fake tan on my legs today?

In order to spy, surely there has to be something worth spying on? I can’t believe that every 78th adult has anything worth watching. Maybe I just lead an unbelievably boring life, but what really can these government spies determine from a bit of snooping?

It used to be that being a spy was a cool job. Just look at that James Bond geezer, he did alright out of it. Yet the whole concept of being a spy is getting pissed on by this latest government debacle. It is claimed that police and other officials tapped phone calls and emails an average of 1,381 times a day last year. I wonder how disappointed they would be to hear my phone calls:

‘What time are you home tonight?… Yes… I’ll make tea…. Pasta probably…. Yes, I know it’s the third night in a row, but I have Italian blood… Okay, I don’t, I’m a BNP member’s wet dream… Yes, I know I am… I finish at half five, not a second later… Cool, see you then… Bye.’

Despite there being, I imagine, a kind of kudos associated with being the subject of your own personal spy, it is a breach of privacy. One that I wouldn’t particularly want – I get freaked out at the thought of the spirits of dead relatives watching me have sex.

So what is the world coming to? After spending a few days with a representative of the next generation, I am still undecided. As technology develops, so does the world around us, whether that’s games or phone taps. It is unfortunately an inevitable consequence that we lose a part of ourselves as humans as the machines take hold. This doesn’t necessarily mean a Terminator-style apocalypse, but it does mean that we are trusting technology more and more, and with it, the few people that control the technology grow more powerful.

As Chris Huhne of the Lib Dems so eloquently put it: “We have sleepwalked into a surveillance state, but without adequate safeguards. Having the home secretary in charge of authorisation is like asking the fox to guard the hen house.”

There’s a very simple answer to all of this Mr Huhne – bring back fox hunting…

PS What’s your favourite board game and why? Comment and let me know… not for any reason, just because I am nosy and want to spy on you.

Ah yes, now for Sunday and Monday. Sunday I was picked up at around 11 AM by Daddy Mike. Courtney, Kelsey, and I went to the mall; Courtney and Kelsey ended up spending $450 for school clothes. Each. I know, right? After we were done shopping, we went to the Grand to see Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince with Tyler, Chris, Regan, and Kali. It was pretty good, even though it didn’t follow the book too well. Then I called up my mom and asked if I could spend the night at Courtney’s. She said yes after a bit of yelling. That night, we…did stuff that I don’t even remember because I was so tired from moving around for the last two days.

Monday was interesting enough. I woke up sometime randomly during the night to Kelsey screaming at Courtney to type in the password to her iPhone, to which Courtney responded, “NO, KELSEY! JUST GET OUT OF MY SPACE!” I thought that was freakin’ hilarious. A few hours later, I felt someone pulling the blanket off of my face and opened my eyes to see Courtney an inch away from my face. I stared at her for a second, and then suddenly she handed me her iPhone — I got a text from Bradley. (My phone died the night before. I didn’t bring a charger since I didn’t know I’d be spending the night.)

So she and I get up and go into the kitchen, where she randomly starts making Oreo milkshakes. They were delicious. She and I played a campaign on Left 4 Dead, then I played one with Kelsey. Every time I played, I kept trying to get the Cr0wnd achievement, where you kill a witch with a single headshot, but the best I could do was get Witch Hunter, where you kill a witch without anyone taking damage. The next thing Courtney’s Randomness decided to do was be a rockstar. We locked ourselves into the bathroom and loaded our hair with hairspray to try to make it stand up and put on tons of dark make up. We showed Kelsey and Kali the finished product and they decided to do it too. So we became a band: The Spicy Nuggets. We even all had our own nugget names! I was Feisty Nugget, Courtney was Stripper Nugget, Kali was Shy Nugget, and Kelsey was Stripper Nugget II because she was too unoriginal to think of another name and she had the boobs for it. We took pictures and giggled at our sexiness for a while, then tried to get all the crap off of our faces and failed.

What do you do when you fail at Courtney’s house? You clean. Courtney and I cleaned the living room and did some laundry, while Kelsey and Kali cleaned up the kitchen. We immediately messed it up again, though, because Courtney wanted to make us spaghetti for lunch. It was amazingly good — and spicy; Courtney dumped a pack of chili powder into it instead of spaghetti seasoning. The four of us ate it while playing a game of Uno.

Daddy Mike brought us home Burger King for dinner. He didn’t have to feed me, but I’m sure he thought I was spending the night again. I wanted to, but my phone was dead and I knew my mom wouldn’t let me since she’s being so anal lately. So I got a free veggie burger and some fries. We then proceeded to Uncle’s house and I watched the three of them play Candyland because I didn’t know how to play and I didn’t want to know how to play. Every time one of them forgot a simple rule, they got bitched at by the other two, who bitched back in return. I did play some epic Pictionary with them afterwards, though. Courtney and I were on a team and we creamed Kelsey and Kali.

Finally, Daddy Mike took me home, where I took a long luxurious bath and tried to get the hairspray out of my scalp. For a while after that I was sad, because I knew for the next few weeks the only places I would be seeing were church, my mum’s workplace, and school (Open house August sixth, guys!).

truly yours,

.Chizuru

Maybe it’s the linguaphile in me, but I love it when I see typos or misspellings in random places like restaurant menus, the pharmaceutical pamphlets in doctor’s offices, board games, or any other public text that has presumably gone through some sort of quality assurance. Here are a couple that I have found in the last few months:

Menu at Enzo’s Pizza, Tucker, GA

Pictionary game card

If you happen to spot a typo, snap a pic, and send it to me!

Hello all. As you must be aware, we are all bored out of our skulls. Our routine seems to have become being bored, talking about being bored, meeting up and being bored. You get the idea.

So, today, we decided to get bored together at Adzzie’s.Revolutionary, innit? The night before, we were so desperate (as per usual) we actually agreed to do/make/participate in Arts and Crafts. Yes,really.

So anyway, we get there and do crosswords and their derivatives for a couple of hours. (Its is fun though. Honestly.) We did the codebreaker things from here which were really, really fun. Basically its a crossword with no clues,just numbered boxes and each number represents one letter throughout the crossword. We went all kinds of crazy while doing them. The result of solving one such puzzle was the creation of the following song, which we then proceeded to belt out while laughing manically.

Oshodum, Oshodum,Oshodum,

Oshodum,Oshodum,Oshodum,

Mesopotamia..aa, Mesopotamia..aa,

Maga-Ziny,Maga-Ziny,

And a Happy New Year!

Yes, we’re certifiably crazy. After the above craziness, we roped in Adzzie’s brother to play some Pictionary with us. Then, (yes there’s more) we proceeded to sing the theme songs of all the cartoons we used to watch when we were little. Captain Planet, Little Lulu,The Flintstones, The Jetsons and the like. Then we just sat.Being tired.

A day well spent, I’ll say.

The madness continued to just about a half hour ago when I offered to pay Adzzie’s brother and my own to write a guest post on the blog because seriously, there’s nothing happening here and I’m all out of ideas. So, here I am being amazingly nice and offering Adzzie’s bro the privilege of posting on here and what does he say? He says he wants $2000. Yeah, right! I offered him Rs. 10 or a Lime Cooler from Fruit Shop.

A little explanation required here, Fruit Shop is a little cafe type place very close to our school (former) and the favorite hangout of a lot people who go there. The Lime Cooler is the cheapest thing on the menu and the practically the only thing anyone could afford after school. Ah, The Lime Cooler, its iconic.

My brother on the other hand says he’s feeling ‘Rambunctious’. Err, yes. At 10 pm. Brothers.

In other news, we’re planning on catching the new Harry Potter movie on Saturday. We’re pretty much over the whole thing though, especially after the last disaster of a movie. Its just a tradition now. So. *shrugs*

On a completely unrelated note, (You should be used to these by now!) here are some lines from my new favorite song!

We’re goin’ down
And you can see it too
We’re goin’ down
And you know that we’re doomed
My dear
We’re slow dancing in a burnin’ room

Its Slow Dancing In A Burning Room by John Mayer. I know. Its corny. I love it anyway!

And that’s what we did today. What did you do?

PS: The new avatar is in honour of my only salvation these days. Crosswords of the world, I salute you!

battleship, originally uploaded by sizzled.

this game war was intense. board games>video games sometimes

I remember watching an episode of ‘Different Strokes’ a few weeks back. It was a strange episode..I think they were trying out an idea for a spinoff for another show – about immigrants in the US learning to talk in English..learning American culture and mannerisms etc. The only thing of interest in that episode was this one dialogue by an immigrant from Czechoslovakia, who, on entering the Drummond’s Park Avenue penthouse, says, “This is your home? In Czechoslovakia, only railways stations look so grand”.

I didn’t quite understand that statement. Was Czechoslovakia such a majestic nation that their railways stations were built like Manhattan penthouse apartments? If so, why did so many people still want to flee the country and settle in democracies like the US? Was it just one of the manifestations of socialism, where such basic things got turned upside down – where the citizens constitute groups of dissidents wanting to reject the country’s communist regime, while their railway stations remain content in their architectural splendour, oblivious to the miseries of the people? I figured it might’ve been the time..the era..its place in world history back then which might’ve led us to view this as a discrepancy. After all, nobody claims that communism hampered the aesthetic senses of architects and people in general. The Red Square after all was built in Czarist Russia.

My thoughts were not centred on this though. What I was thinking of, was how certain public places become symbolic of a country’s people..its politico-social history. Like railway stations do. Sort of like signboards that say, ‘This is our country. And these are our people. Live and accept. And enjoy’.

Most railway stations in Mumbai would have to write the ‘live and accept’ very prominently on their signboards. In bold. Doing so would acknowledge the fact that most railway stations here suck and are dirty..while at the same time providing outsiders with a piece of warning so they’re not taken too much by surprise at the filth and decay in and around railway stations. The ‘enjoy’ would be a rare word used within India..at least within Mumbai..and looked at with suspicion at places that display it.

The pleasure in writing this post lies in recalling countries and places where this is not the case. I can think of a few railway stations elsewhere, which would proudly scream the word out to commuters and visitors, asking them to enjoy and have a pleasant stay. In a believable fashion. Switzerland is one such country. Railway stations in Switzerland are so reflective of what the people and the country are like – they’re effortlessly clean and welcoming. And that’s a rare thing to achieve!!

Before continuing on with this, I must say I’m not an expert on railway stations. I’ve travelled by trains very few times; all through college and later I’ve travelled mostly by bus. But there is an enigma of sorts that trains and railway stations possess which I haven’t completely fathomed yet. The fact is that they do reflect a microscopic view of the population of a country going about its daily routine – in a sociological experiment to study human behaviour and its transition through time and in the course of one day, a railway station could provide the perfect setting for a random sample collection. In Mumbai, I’ve known people who swore to never travel by trains, become train aficionados. I have a cousin who’s obsessed with the Indian Railways – listening to him talk is like having an overabundance of station names and technologies thrown down at you while you try and decipher the meaning of this fixation which apparently exists in many people!!

But the point of this article is not trains or the Indian Railways. What’s amusing is that, when you start considering how indicative railway stations are of the prevalent social scenario of a particular country, it’s almost eerie. You begin to wonder why the Indian government doesn’t end up spending more money in revamping them and their premises, and then printing photographs on brochures to send off to other nations, as a way to brag about the fulfilling role they play in the lives of its citizens. Who needs statistics indicating the GDP and celebrities endorsing tourism, when you have gleaming railway stations with pleased people running to and fro looking like they actually ‘enjoy’ being there – going to work at rush hours and trying to look appropriately nonchalant doing so?

But alas, reality is not so rosy. Indian railway stations are surrounded by piles of garbage that are deeper than Pink Floyd lyrics

Let’s review a few railway stations..and what they signify. As I mentioned, there’re the Swiss stations. Sure, just on the outskirts of Zurich there’s lots of graffiti and the area does look like a shady ghetto, but the rooftop gardens that you can see through the trains, where, during office lunch breaks, you see people sipping cold drinks under sun umbrellas, compensates for the harsher alternatives. The train station for the capital city Berne is magnificent. There’s nothing overly official about it..and it doesn’t ooze the feeling of power that you might expect out of a country’s capital; but when an entire city is named UNESCO’s World Heritage Site, rest assured the city’s train station would be splendid!!

Zurich train station

Outside Berne railway station..the glass enclave and the trams

Lucerne, on the other hand, has a more modest station..although it is the most popular tourist destination in Switzerland. The station itself is non-descript, but it has some of the most wonderfully accommodating staff I’ve ever found anywhere – when you do find them, that is. When a close friend and I were staying in Lucerne, for just 3 days last July, we did all our travelling through trains. On our first day of exploring the country, on a gloriously warm summer day, we got to Lucerne train station and decided we’d have to book our tickets on the machine ourselves because there was no ticket counter. When we started the ticket retrieving process, we found out all the instructions were in Swiss-German. After frantically but intelligently punching the right buttons and getting 2 tickets, my friend and I looked pleased with ourselves. It was before we realized we still had to figure out which platform the train would be coming to. Swiss trains are staggeringly on time; and train stations there have platforms up to numbers 58, 60 etc!! Even three days was not sufficient time to figure out how the system of platform numbers works there; and right then, we were sufficiently alarmed. Just then, we came across the lone station personnel on the platform – he was a middle-aged man in uniform and he was carrying a gadget with him which from a distance looked suspiciously like an ‘Etch a Sketch’ model.

We approached this man to ask him about our train’s arrival and realized immediately that he didn’t speak or understand English. By now, we were more than nervous. We’d come to the station on time, not knowing the ticket-booking process would take so long. Now we were in more of a soup..because the tickets were booked – and travel in Switzerland is EXPENSIVE..for that matter, most things in Switzerland are – yet, we had no idea which platform we were to rush to, and now we were playing Pictionary with a sweet man who carried an ‘etch a sketch’ toy to work!!

The fact is though, that at the time, with all our nervousness, the man actually managed to make me giggle. I can’t say now for sure, that it wasn’t hysteria making me giggly, but the fact that my friend was amused too – and he wouldn’t giggle hysterically..thats solely my forte!! – is some proof that the man did actually amuse us terribly!! He made a lot of random etchings on his toy, he even said a lot of friendly-sounding stuff in German, while he also pointed his pen towards a certain spot on the paper he had tucked under his arm. All of this while smiling – no, beaming – at us.

We felt like god’s golden children right then..and he our saviour. We were so glad to have just seen him explain things to us, that for a moment we forgot we had a train to catch. Thankfully, an English-speaking official came by and sweetly directed us to the correct platform. And that’s how everyone in Switzerland is – sweet and neat without being overly so. Every train station there looks like a picture postcard – well, they have spots of peeling colour and some are uncomfortably small – but they’re all adorned with bright cheerful flowers, are clean and homely, and have good seating arrangements. Not to mention the trains are absolutely on time!!

I was often led to believe that Switzerland is a breathtakingly beautiful country. Somehow, I didn’t get that feeling. In a way, I liked it better this way – the city streets and cafes were charming and quaint enough to be old-fashioned and the stores were stylish and expensive enough to remain untouchable – but what was amazing were the flowers in every window, the gardens that you could see through the train windows, the country’s flag perched proudly atop houses and in backyards, the innumerable lakes and streams, and the big lovable dogs. You can see all of this while (a) you’re at the train station, (b) on your way to or from the train station or (c) travelling in the train itself. The perfect microscopic view of the nation and its people (and animals).

England is different. Everything is grey around English train stations. In Sheffield, the train station is the first thing you see as your coach enters the city. It is big and intimidating; with a huge dome and a glass front and several art pieces near the entrance. You can feel the busy lives of people around – in trench-coats and skinny ties. A town near Sheffield called Chesterfield has one of the funniest stations you’ll ever see. It’s technically outside the town and you get out of the train directly into the ticket collector’s booth – that’s how small it seems. But then, they’ve managed to acquire space to build a parking lot and a driveway which enables it to have the look of a domestic airport. Southampton, on the other hand, is a lot more laid-back for a big city. For a while after I saw the train station there, I wondered if most people just travel to and from Southampton by flights (since they have an international airport) or by ferries (lots of them..the sea is right there!!). Bristol is grey, grey, and some more grey. My memories of the Bristol train station are a bit vague because I was dazed with pain during my visit there; but I recall the desolate look of the station, a wooden bridge, and the grey. It’s a very uncomfortable-looking station.

Do English train stations resemble a microcosm of life in England and the English? They so do!! Train stations are the archetype of English standards. They stand there – either as glass and stone structures looking opulent and out of place in the neighbourhood of other brick buildings or dull grey brick constructions standing out against green and blue coloured “modern” buildings;  unbothered about the architectural anomaly they create for the given city.  That’s how the English people are too – fussy about their own kinds and strangely unbothered with anything else. At train stations, this type of behaviour is evident to such a large degree it’s hilarious. Everybody has this scrunched-up look on their faces, and groups of people getting out of the station whirl so much wind around them, simply because they seem to walk much faster than everyone else. The buses have to wait for groups of station-premise-leaving people to cross the streets; it all looks very droll because as soon as the people get away from the train stations, into the world of regular humans, they seem normal too – almost unbelievably so. It’s such a quintessential view of all things English – they always seem either too aloof or too boisterous when they’re in groups by themselves, but once they mingle with you and others of different species, they seem hardly stiff upper-lipped – likeable in fact.

Railway stations. Train stations. Czechoslovakia had their grand penthouse-styled ones, Switzerland has the effortlessly clean and charming ones, and England’s are the epitome of grey. I feel like I’m on the brink of the afore-mentioned sociological experiment where I must try and figure out the place-people-country equation and publish it as a series of adventure stories. Study one place at a time, its relevance to the culture of that country, the importance of people’s attitudes in and around the place as well as towards such a place, and the larger social construct that is formed with the intermingling of all these forces.

And so..onwards I head towards working for such a paper. Next round – supermarkets!!