The world is coming to an end

Why, you ask? Because something incredible is happening as we speak. Something no one thought possible. Something that will go down in annals of history as the definining moment that changed the world as we know it. Generations have waited for this moment. Protests were launched for it. People risked their lives for it. And the moment is this: I'm going on a diet.

Yes, you read it right, and you read it here first. I am going on a 7-day detox diet. You may have thought that I was going to comment on the crisis in Egypt, but there's enough coverage about that historic event already. On the other hand, not a SINGLE newspaper has come to me to talk about my diet. So I've decided to take matters in my own hands and blog about it.

You see, when I got back from New York earlier this week, I planned to blog about all the insane amount of food I had eaten there. And believe me when I say this: it was insane. Just making a list of all the different things I ate took up an entire page. Going through the list also helped me resolve the mystery of my expanding waistline. I knew that something had to be done. And so I decided to do the 7-day detox diet, not really to lose weight, but mainly to cleanse my palate, so I can try to stop being in a constant state of craving. Today is Day 1, which is only fruit and veggie soup. To say that it's not going well would be an understatement. I see cupcakes floating around me, and people are starting to look like banana pudding. I'm sure there's something wrong with this picture, but I just can't figure out what.

On a related note, I'm sure you are aware that there is a lot of eveil in this world. And some of these evil people have no shame and would never think twice about sitting next to you in the cafeteria with a plateful of raclette, KNOWING that you are on a diet. I demand that such people be slapped. Some other people will also have no shame and will bring up the names of all the wonderful things that you ate while in New York. Such people's heads need to be shaved. And on that not-at-all violent note, I'm going to make me a wonderful fruit salad and have some delicious (not) soup. If I'm alive this time next week, I'll be back. If not, well, it was good knowing you. May the force be with you. Amen.

Believe in magic!

Credit Card companies do, so why shouldn't you? Confused? Let me explain:

Once upon a time, a lifetime ago really, I had a credit card with a company - let's just call them ABC. Being Indian, I'm genetically inclined to never have any balance to carry forward on my card, and always pay my monthly balance in full. Ever since I moved to Zurich, I've only used one credit card from the US, and that too mostly for bigger purchases. Just for fun, I was checking my online statements for all my cards last night. That's right - some people watch TV for fun. Me, I check all my dormant credit cards' balances online.

To my shock and horror, I discovered that one of my cards had a past due bill for interest payment to the tune of $330. Which would have been fine, if not for one teeny tiny little fact: the balance on the card was $0. That's correct, I was charged interest that's equivalent to 1/3rd of a Gucci bag on a $0 balance.

Once I was over my shock and awe at this ridiculousness, I called their customer service number, where an obviously Indian girl introduced herself as "Patricia". I felt like telling her, "Honey, if you are Patricia, then I am Ms. Universe, and we ALL know that that's not true!" But I indulged her by letting her think that I totally thought she was indeed Patricia. She asked me to explain the issue to her. Of course, she couldn't really do anything so I got passed around to three other people. By this time, my rage issues had started to make a grand return. I closed my eyes and imagined hundreds of cupcakes waiting for me, which helped calm me down. Sadly, only food-related thoughts can help me relax now. This situation has now become dire. Anyway, I finally spoke with someone who had superpowers and could help me with my situation! This person said that he could indeed see this $330 interest past due on my statement, but couldn't figure out where it came from! I guess it just "magically" appeared!

After a bit of head scratching by both of us, he agreed to waive the balance, which was good because it had no basis to exist in the first place. I was thoroughly disgusted by all of this, and once he helpfully waived the interest on a non-existent balance, I proceeded to close my account with ABC Bank. This taught me an important lesson - magic is not limited to Disney alone...even credit card companies believe in it! Now I'm going to go play with my Harry Potter magic wand and see if I can conjure up some spells...anything is possible at this point!

How a boy named Jon ruined my life

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, a wonderful family was blessed with a beautiful baby boy. The parents named this seemingly lovely boy Jon. However, unbeknownst to them, Jon was, in fact, evil incarnate. On the outside, his cherubic appearance with his messy hair and HarryPotteresque glasses made people warm up to him really quickly. His typical British sense of humor, often dry and quirky, made him a darling of the masses. He quickly developed a following and dubbed all his followers as members of the "Jon cult". But, no one knew of the evil that resided in him. His true colors were not to be releaved until a little later in life, when he moved to a beautiful city called Zurich.

Halfway across the universe, in a city called New York, lived a lovely girl called Jigz. She was described by her friends as entertaining, full of life, and fun.However, she was also hiding a deep, dark secret. A terrible secret that almost no one knew about. She was a recovering addict. Jigz was addicted to the game "Bejeweled" on her cellphone. It was a serious, debilitating condition that had a profound impact on all aspects of her life. While riding buses and subways in New York, she wouldn't even look up from her phone to acknowledge other fellow human beings. Numerous times, she found herself missing her bus stop or her subway stop because she was so focused on her game. In a little over two years, she had played over two thousand five hundred games on her phone.

One day, when she found herself reaching for her phone at two am on a Tuesday night, she knew that she had a problem. Not one to dwell on a problem without finding a solution for it, Jigz immediately started talking to people about it and sought help. The first thing she did was to hide Bejeweled from the Menu display on her phone. "If you can't see it, it can't tempt you," is what she would say. After a lot of soul searching, she realized that the only way she could get completely cured of her addiction was by moving to a new country, even a new continent. She needed to get away from all that was familiar, and move to the new. After a long wait, Jigz finally moved to Zurich. And that's where she met Jon.

Jon, who finally saw the perfect prey, a woman with addiction issues, immediately pretended to be nice, warm, and friendly. Pretty soon, Jon and Jigz became good friends. Trusting him, Jigz confessed to him about her past addiction issues. Jon, playing the sympathy card, pretended to care, and promised to help her, should she ever relapse. What he didn't mention to her was that he would be the catalyst in causing such a relapse. Such was her trust for him that Jigz even showed him exactly where she hid the game "Bejeweled" on her phone. Jon leaped at this opportunity. One day, when a group of people were out for dinner, Jon took Jigz's phone, and started played Bejeweled on it. In front of Jigz. Not only was she horrified at such a blatant display of breach of trust, her dormant addiction was now awake and kicking again. Jon, being the true evil that he is, then saved the game on her main Menu. Everytime she would reach for her phone, the game would now be in front of her eyes. Daring her. Taunting her. Enticing her.

Jigz tried to resist as long as she could, but she is human, after all. She finally succumbed. Now, before even brushing her teeth in the morning, Jigz has to play a game. Before going to bed, she has to play a game. While waiting for a tram, while ordering food, even while doing yoga! She now looks like a deranged lunatic who is unfit for society. All because of a boy called Jon. But will good ultimately triumph over evil? Can Jigz get over her addiction once again? Is she strong enough to stop Jon from destroying another life? Or will Jon take over the entire world and ruin everyone's lives? Come back here to find out what happens next!

So What

This week has been, as the French say, shit. Actually, it has been eine grosse katastrophe. It has been fraught with suspense, drama, and bouts of hunger, all culminating in an epic public meltdown that shocked pretty much all of Zurich. You know me - I have been known to only cry while watching Hallmark commercials or while watching the opening montage from the movie UP. And such rumored acts of crying have only occured in a dark movie theater or within the confines of my apartment. I'm almost vampire like that way. So an epic daylight public meltdown by me is not only unheard of, it is also deeply embarrassing, and doesn't make for a pretty sight. I sat in abject horror and almost had this out-of-body experience where I looked at myself askance and wondered, "Who is this insane, emotionally unhinged, out of control madwoman?" as I was undergoing said meltdown. Thank god for beverage therapy, good friends, and ice cream.

Apart from some really good friends, both new and old, Pink is the only other person who's helping me deal with the disaster that was this week and helped channel my despair into rage. This song has now become my mantra:



Hope you all had a better week than I did!

To smell or not to smell

Summer is a beautiful season. It brings out flowers and the green and fun skirts and dresses, and...some men who don't use deodorant and wear wife-beaters. This is not only an assault to the eyes but also to the olfactory. This assault is exacerbated when you're on a tram, and you begin to dread the moment someone lifts their arms up to hold on to the railing. You pray to every god, wishing and hoping that they wore deodorant. Sometimes god obliges, sometimes he doesn't. When he doesn't, you feel like you are doomed to a lifetime of disappointment.

I went through such an experience just last week. I was on the tram, on my way back from work. Halfway through the ride, there was a strange stench that filled the tram. My nostrils lodged a protest and immediately shut down. My quest to find the source of the stench brought me to to a wannabe-rockstar-but-couldn't-ever-be-one guy wearing a wife-beater and sporting a wonderful beer belly, lifting his arms up to hold on to the railing. I doubt he knew the devastating impact such an act would have on society as a whole. You could almost see the fumes emanating from under his arms. This is disgusting, I know, but if I get to live through it, you get to read about it.

The entire tram must have felt the waves of stench, and it ended up being each man for himself, because I kid you not, we ended up losing people at every tram stop. Within three stops, almost everyone was off the tram, with the look of fear on their faces, and tears in their eyes. I stuck around for one more stop, but then abandoned ship and leaped out of the tram before the doors closed. There was no time to warn unsuspecting on-boarders of what awaited them inside the tram. I just hope they made it out okay. Maybe one day we'll run into each other and reminisce about this shared torture that we went through. But for now, I'm armed with Febfreeze and am ready to launch my counterattack on any tram at a moment's notice. "They may take our lives, but they will NEVER TAKE OUR FREEDOM!!!"

The Butterfly effect

As most of you know, I love reading. I'm a quintessential nerd - I'll read books and then find forums to either share opinions or read about others opinions on the book. The last couple of weeks have been really busy at work, so I wanted to read something low key and chill. I bought this romance novel by one of my favorite authors. This book is a third in a series of four books and is about four friends working together, with each book giving one of the friends a happily ever after. The first two were fun reads, so I went ahead and ordered the third one online. I started reading it Wednesday night, and halfway through, I wanted to scream and slap people in anger. To say that the book was disappointing would be a major understatement. The whole story felt so contrived, superficial, and unemotional that at the end of it, I was crying in frustration. "Why is this important for me to know?" you ask? Well, it's like the Butterfly effect - a seemingly innocent flap of a butterfly's wings in one side of the world can lead to a Tsunami on the other side. This is exactly what happened with me, and is the reason why I did what I did on Saturday night.

Since this was a long weekend, my brother was visiting me. Where did we go when he was here is another story for another time, but long story short, we went shopping on Saturday, and met up with a friend for dinner Saturday evening. I went back to the Ethiopian place to share the joy that it had brought me the last time I was there. Unlike the last time, Saturday night was buffet night, so the waitress explained us what the different vegetables were, and we proceeded to eat. And this is where the earlier story places such an important role. You see, even though my trauma over my favorite author writing a piece of shit of a book seemingly ended Wednesday night, deep in my subconscious, I believe the pain was still very much alive. I'd go for hours without thinking about the horror of the book, but every now and then, the pain would come alive, and I'd need comforting.

Well, exactly such a thing happened over dinner. We were talking about random things and all of a sudden, I remembered the tragedy that was the book I read, so I needed comforting. And honestly, what is more comforting than good food? So I finished my first serving at the buffet, and politely waited for my brother and my friend to finish theirs so we could get the next serving. To my surprise, neither of them seemed in any hurry to get some more food, so I went ahead and came back with a plateful of veggies and Injera. This happened yet again. It was only after 30 minutes of eating that I realized that I out.ate.my.brother. This NEVER happens. I mean never. It's legally and metaphysically impossible for such a thing to happen. To make matters worse, not only did I out-eat my brother, I out-ate both him AND my friend!

The reality of what I had done finally sank in, but by that time I had eaten so much that I physically couldn't get up. Eventually, I did make it to the tram, and berated my brother the entire time for not eating more than I did. He must have seen how this was impacting me psychologically, because he made us get Ice-cream at Movenpick on our way back. Needless to say, I out-ate him on the ice-cream too. And all this happened because of the terrible book I read. I'm sure of it. If I had not been so distraught over the book, I would have recognized the fact that my plate was the only one that was full a good 20 minutes after we started eating, and I would have stopped. Or at least been more discrete about the eating. Instead, I out-ate two grown men and had both of them staring at me in shock and horror. I'm pretty sure the rest of the restaurant was doing the same. I don't think I can show my face there again - at least not for a little while. I really hope Hugh pays me a visit in my dreams to comfort me tonight. I need it now more than ever.

End of a relationship. Or is it?

When I first came to Zurich, I fell in love with the lake, the people, the cheese. And I fell in love with the weather. 65 and sunny, almost everyday was cool and brisk. Then it started getting warmer. It went up to 80. I was able to do this and this. But then, things started to change.

At first, it was just little things. A shower here, a thunderstorm there. As with any new relationship, I chalked it up to mood swings and decided to give the weather some time and space. I even went away for the weekend, hoping that would make things better between us. Imagine my shock and horror when, not only was I welcomed back with pouring rain that Sunday evening, I even had to don my winter jacket back on! The weather knows how I feel about my winter jacket. It knows that hell hath no fury like a woman stuck in a jacket that makes her look fat. Yet, it made me wear it. Not only that, the weather didn't even have the decency to bring me some sunshine - for days on end. I coped with this devastating development the only way I could: by eating. Everything. I have lost count of the number of lunches and dinners I've had within the last two week. By now, everything has turned into one giant food eating entity. It’s hard to tell when exactly lunch ends and dinner begins.

Last Saturday, I saw rays of sunshine. I thought maybe our relationship could be mended. But tonight, things were back to the way they have been in the recent past. Now, every time I see the rain pouring, I feel like punching a cloud. But since such punching cannot occur, I take solace in food. I hope the weather is taking notice of my downward spiral, and realizes how important I am to it, and changes its behavior. It should soon realize that I’m the best thing to have happened to it. If it doesn’t, then I can’t be held responsible for what happens next. I have already stopped smiling. Are you listening, weather? Will you bring me sunshine, or give me more rain? Or will this be the end of us? The ball is now in your court. Do the right thing.

Also, Thursday is a Public holiday in Europe, and I'm taking Friday off, so will be gone for the long weekend. Where am I going, you ask? Well, you'll just have to come back next week to find out!

When tragedy strikes twice

If you remember, a few weeks ago, I talked about rediscovering religion here and here. I was a born-again believer. I believed the Almighty was all encompassing and powerful. Well I am here to tell you that unfortunately, this is not true. Before I begin telling you why, I'm going to digress and talk about my near death experience.

This Saturday I had grand plans to go shopping in Germany. Yes, I can go shopping in Germany if I want to. How very Mariah Carey of me. Anyway, the plan was to go there with a few friends, but as always, come Saturday morning, laziness set in, and ultimately won over, so I bailed out of going. Saturday was the first day in nearly eight days that we saw the sun, so I decided to sit outside in the backyard and just chill. After my first lunch, I started to feel guilty about my fatness and decided to go on a bike ride. I had ambitious plans to ride the bike for 25 miles and go to Rapperswil, which is apparently a cute little town right outside of Zurich. The ride itself is along the lake on a very quiet and a not-so-busy road.

Ten miles into the ride, I decided that I was a bike-expert and could do jumps through slopes and over sidewalks with my "kids" bike. I was feeling badass and decided to do a bike-jump on the sidewalk from the bike path that was on the road. Needless to day, this ended in tragedy. I ended up with bruising on various parts of my lower right leg and my palms. My leg is currently sporting various shades of red, and apparently I also hurt my right wrist. The worst part of it was that there was no knight-in-shining-armor to even pick me off the road! I had to haul my bike and my fatness off the sidewalk myself and make sure that said humiliation was not witnessed by any other living being. Thankfully, the road was deserted, so my shame was mine alone. The worst part was that I had to ride the bike all the way back to my place, with a bleeding knee. And one of the wounds on the leg was on the bone, which led to swelling, so now my one calf looks fatter than the other.

As if all this wasn't enough, I was faced with an existential crisis this morning. The final part of my migration over from New York to Zurich was supposed to get done on Friday, so the hope was that Monday morning I'd have everything the way God of Microsoft intended. Imagine my shock and horror when, upon going to work this morning, I discovered that my email, internet, intranet, chat - nothing worked. And all my documents and files disappeared! The curse of Microsoft had hit again, putting my computer in a catatonic state. I called my God, the one who defeated the Microsoft warlord the last time around, hoping that he'd work his magic again. Unfortunately, and to my immense disappointment, he didn't know what to do! He said he was helpless and powerless in this situation. I felt hope slowly leave me.

I frantically called five different groups and was always told to contact someone else. After SIX hours of chasing my own tail, I knew this had to end, and went "New York" on everyone. I called one group and told them that I'd keep calling them every ten minutes until my access was restored. And I did. Within thirty minutes, I finally had access to chat. The rest of the things were still being worked on, but at least I could communicate with other people! The rest, I'm being told, will be fixed tomorrow.

This whole ordeal got me so stressed that I even forgot to eat my second lunch, can you believe it? I promptly made up for it by eating two dinners with a couple of friends and a dear friend who is visiting from New York. I feel marginally better, emotionally speaking. I just got back and it's now time for me to go to bed and dream hot men dreams, so good night and please pray that my system is up and running as it should be tomorrow morning!

I met GOD today - The Sequel

As I mentioned yesterday, I met GOD. Many of you wondered what this GOD of mine looked like. Well, here's what he looks like:



Yes, I know this is Steven Spielberg. I only had two drinks this evening, so I still relatively know what I'm talking about. But I'm not kidding when I tell you that the resemblance between my God of Humanity and the maker of the Jones of Indiana is uncanny. I almost asked GOD for his autograph more than once.

Since today was the final leg of the war (or so I thought), I decided to wake up early and prepare for it. I practiced Yoga early in the morning and did all three of the Warrior poses for inspiration. But being at war is hard work, so by the time I got to this pose, I took a mini-nap and thus was scrambling to get to work on time.

However, I am happy to report that GOD officially has Superpowers! Currently, only one of my email accounts is active, and supposedly by tomorrow, the entire transition shall be completed. The Sequel has now become a Trilogy, but that's okay, because unlike most wars, this one has An End In Sight. It also helped me discover religion, much to the joy of my Mother. So the final chapter in this saga is set to air tomorrow at 9am Zurich time. If you hear a scream of joy all the way back in New York, then you'll know it worked. If you read reports of this having happened, then you'll know it didn't.

I had a few more things to talk about tonight, but Hugh Jackman dreams are calling out for me, so I'm off to get some sleep. I also have to wake up at 6am tomorrow to figure out and theorize on what happened here. So good night, and please continue sending your prayers and good wishes. Only with those can the God of Humanity defeat the Windows of Microsoft once and for all. Amen.

I met GOD today

This morning, which already seems like a lifetime ago, I had plans to blog about my weekend. Drinks and dinner on Saturday, brunch with some new friends on Sunday, thoughts on the Dalai Lama's lecture that I attended. But all that was B.A (Before Afternoon). Something happened in the afternoon. Something bigger than you and me. Something almost bigger than chocolate mousse cake. I met GOD.

Before we really discuss this divine meeting, lets travel back in time. Lets travel back to a time when trees were still covered with snow. A time when it was still dark at eight in the morning, when three layers of clothing were mandatory. A time we shall call March of 2010. The world was different back then. I was still in New York, even though I was already working on Zurich projects. Back then, I had one work email address: j.d@xyz.com. As I was about to move to Zurich, all my email and personal folders also had to be migrated over to the Zurich systems. Somewhere, somehow, I got a new email address: j.p.d@xyz.com.

Pay attention kids, because in the grand scheme of things, this is the most important piece of information: Since March 2010, I have had two email addresses. I, until now, had only used my existing j.d@xyz.com. The Zurich based j.p.d@xyz.com was something that was just there. Unfortunately, slowly but surely, more and more emails started being sent to j.p.d. I had no way of accessing the j.p.d email account, for reasons that I don't even want to get into, for fear of being inflicted with self-induced trauma again. Anyway, kind souls at work made me aware of j.p.d@xyz.com. To P or not to P became the question. I also liked the idea of actually getting all the emails that were intended for me, and not having them disappear in the vortex of Microsoft. So, I decided I didn't want the P.

Fastforward to April 5, 2010. I made a seemingly innocent request to the powers that be: please shut down j.p.d@xyz.com and make j.d@xyz.com my default and only email address. I was told that this would happen over the weekend, and come Monday morning, life would be the way it was always meant to be.

And today, kids, was that Monday. I went to work, beckoning in a new era in Microsoft Outlook, or so I thought. Imagine my shock and horror when I went to work and realized that nothing happened over the weekend! The world had not changed! There was still j.d and j.p.d! I frantically called over three different Helpdesks, and desperately tried to convey my trauma. But alas, no one knew what I was talking about. Desperate, I decided to close Outlook and relaunch it, hoping for a miracle. So close it I did. And when I relaunched it, this is what confronted me:



"Why didn't you just click OK?" you ask. "Why, thank you for that enlightening suggestion," I sarcastically say. I did click OK. The prompt wouldn't go away. I decided to try something radical and clicked "Cancel". The prompt still stayed. By this point, I had sent out an S.O.S to pretty much everyone in the organization, hoping to find a savior. But I was starting to lose hope. Depression had set in. And that's when it happened.

As I put my head down on my desk in despair, and angelic looking old gentleman with white hair and white beard came up to me and asked, "What bothers you, my child?" Ok he may have said something like, "I'm here to look into your email issues" but I know that's what he meant. As I looked up to him, I saw the halo on his head. Some people may call it floor lighting, but I know a halo when I see one. That's when I knew that I would be saved. And save me he did. This person made something magical happen. He gave me access to both email addresses! I could now respond to people on the P id, who probably thought I was extremely rude for never having replied to their emails. The white haired halo man who made all this possible, Ladies and Gentlemen, was God. That angelic figure who saved me from the Evil Forces of Outlook was the benevolent, all knowing GOD. At a time when hope had been abandoned, he arrived to restore faith. He arrived to defeat Evil.

But, his fight is not over. For tomorrow is another day. Night may have fallen, but the battle has not ended. Tomorrow, we take on the task of shutting down j.p.d and ensuring that only j.d remains. Tomorrow is the battle of Man of God versus the Windows of Microsoft. Will Good survive? Or will Evil rule? Come back for the sequel to find out how it all ends.

May the Force be with you. Amen.