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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;CUMNQHo6eyp7ImA9WhRUFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376</id><updated>2012-01-24T19:28:11.413+05:30</updated><category term="Fam inist" /><category term="Childhood" /><category term="Fatso" /><category term="Garfeild" /><category term="weight loss" /><category term="books" /><category term="random" /><category term="humour" /><category term="tag" /><category term="depression" /><category term="joy" /><category term="dog" /><category term="blog" /><category term="spellcheck" /><category term="life" /><category term="Vodka" /><category term="goodness" /><category term="travel" /><category term="personality" /><category term="revelation" /><category term="family" /><category term="poetry" /><category term="religion" /><category term="bombay" /><category term="CFA" /><category term="happiness" /><category term="writing" /><category term="love" /><category term="work" /><category term="Self unhelp" /><category term="friends" /><title>Ideasyncrasies</title><subtitle type="html">Confessions, meanderings, rantings of a mind that can go blank at will. Opinionated, Funny, Morbid, Creative , Smart, Witty, Intellectual, Informative, Pensive, Comprehensive, Interesting. Ok,ok..Im Lying !</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>WeirdISgooD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03741827825742257250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>102</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/blogspot/GZqC" /><feedburner:info uri="blogspot/gzqc" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUIDSHg_fip7ImA9WhdSEE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376.post-8374948591366581039</id><published>2011-07-19T02:40:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2011-07-19T02:42:59.646+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-07-19T02:42:59.646+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dog" /><title>Puppy Love</title><content type="html">The best things in life are not free. Some of them involve your favourite slippers chewed to bits of rubber, stolen fish, anxiety attacks while running barefoot on the road calling for a monster, and lots of tears of happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having a dog who loves you is not one of the best things in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is THE best thing. Family and chocolate comes a mere second ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12244376-8374948591366581039?l=ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tps0PLyWq-w08FM5phvRCY2WTyI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tps0PLyWq-w08FM5phvRCY2WTyI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~4/64xIVHEtOIA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/8374948591366581039/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12244376&amp;postID=8374948591366581039&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/8374948591366581039?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/8374948591366581039?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~3/64xIVHEtOIA/puppy-love.html" title="Puppy Love" /><author><name>WeirdISgooD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03741827825742257250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/2011/07/puppy-love.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEQAQX48fSp7ImA9Wx5QF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376.post-4177019554170192820</id><published>2010-09-06T09:37:00.005+05:30</published><updated>2010-09-06T09:42:20.075+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-06T09:42:20.075+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="spellcheck" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friends" /><title>It's the new</title><content type="html">It's like a switch; is living. It goes on and off I mean. Although here, you'd have to pay a bill for keeping it off, and maintenance charges for keeping it on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm missing Chinky a lot. I need a contemporary friend to replace him now. Ha, noone can really replace the missing can they ? It's like holes in your consciousness. God acts like a punch soemtimes. And then we are all tied by a ribbon to make one big fat file that noone wants to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not depressed though. I'm just stating the obvious, although I'm in a detached mode right now. Can't read, nor write. I havent read a good new book in ages, except for the newspapers abd The Economist and stuff that's itneresting but not really recreational. Thought provoking ? News is never thought provoking for me.The smell of good food is mostly. Thought and hunger provoking. I'm getting back into that dangerous phase of keeping myself happy with food, which is not good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm strangely happy some days. Although i get paid as much as the peon in your office, and I'm always tired and sleepy, and eternally battling the flubber, and tuffy still ahs to get trained and the dishes always pile up higher and I'm perenially in danger of reaching late to work and never having a decent job because let's face it I'm 25 and what am I earning ? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's one terrible and terribly long sentence no :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12244376-4177019554170192820?l=ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/82DoVHr6lauMKh-TvFq_LrMke0c/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/82DoVHr6lauMKh-TvFq_LrMke0c/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~4/QyYu8k03DKI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/4177019554170192820/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12244376&amp;postID=4177019554170192820&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/4177019554170192820?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/4177019554170192820?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~3/QyYu8k03DKI/its-new.html" title="It's the new" /><author><name>WeirdISgooD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03741827825742257250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/2010/09/its-new.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEQCQHg9eSp7ImA9WxFTEEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376.post-5113078157705701174</id><published>2010-04-01T01:38:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2010-04-01T01:42:41.661+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-04-01T01:42:41.661+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family" /><title>Tuffy</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hOzHfAN3kr0/S7OsH5wkBrI/AAAAAAAAAFc/lLq6gK13CcQ/s1600/tuffy1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hOzHfAN3kr0/S7OsH5wkBrI/AAAAAAAAAFc/lLq6gK13CcQ/s400/tuffy1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454892825439372978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My New born Darling. I'm worried about whether I will be able to provide for him, feed him right, anticipate his every move, and then maybe he'll send me to an old age home when he's older and has a career and family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12244376-5113078157705701174?l=ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UgtDi7MtmSAXPyWm3PlDmWJdKG0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UgtDi7MtmSAXPyWm3PlDmWJdKG0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~4/ZRfo5cGgcQw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/5113078157705701174/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12244376&amp;postID=5113078157705701174&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/5113078157705701174?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/5113078157705701174?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~3/ZRfo5cGgcQw/tuffy.html" title="Tuffy" /><author><name>WeirdISgooD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03741827825742257250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hOzHfAN3kr0/S7OsH5wkBrI/AAAAAAAAAFc/lLq6gK13CcQ/s72-c/tuffy1.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/2010/04/tuffy.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQESHs7cSp7ImA9WxNXFUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376.post-3944447900725789349</id><published>2009-10-03T10:43:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-10-03T10:51:49.509+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-03T10:51:49.509+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="humour" /><title>PJ !!!</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hOzHfAN3kr0/SsbdkzCOyTI/AAAAAAAAAD8/NWo0b9HGP7c/s1600-h/ATT00031.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 306px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hOzHfAN3kr0/SsbdkzCOyTI/AAAAAAAAAD8/NWo0b9HGP7c/s320/ATT00031.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388237628439972146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12244376-3944447900725789349?l=ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XHuJaE-fs50UuxOeF48b8CVYrSg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/XHuJaE-fs50UuxOeF48b8CVYrSg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~4/cu0o0aBG_JM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/3944447900725789349/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12244376&amp;postID=3944447900725789349&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/3944447900725789349?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/3944447900725789349?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~3/cu0o0aBG_JM/pj.html" title="PJ !!!" /><author><name>WeirdISgooD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03741827825742257250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hOzHfAN3kr0/SsbdkzCOyTI/AAAAAAAAAD8/NWo0b9HGP7c/s72-c/ATT00031.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/2009/10/pj.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEUDRnoyeip7ImA9WxNXFUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376.post-8579782539434386931</id><published>2009-10-03T10:29:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2009-10-03T10:34:37.492+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-03T10:34:37.492+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="random" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life" /><title>Paradigm Shift</title><content type="html">He's not as smart as you think he is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They're not as useful as you think they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not as patient as you think I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're not as stupid as you think we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They're not as young as you think they are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's not as lonely as you think she is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time is not as slow as you think it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not as easy as you think it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's not as confident as you think he is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not as wrong as you think I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're not as different as you think we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Change your thoughts, and you will change YOUR world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, really !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12244376-8579782539434386931?l=ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lCTLi-r8BfZS6_AGhC6jwu9EgzU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lCTLi-r8BfZS6_AGhC6jwu9EgzU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lCTLi-r8BfZS6_AGhC6jwu9EgzU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lCTLi-r8BfZS6_AGhC6jwu9EgzU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~4/A8FHsI4VpRg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/8579782539434386931/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12244376&amp;postID=8579782539434386931&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/8579782539434386931?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/8579782539434386931?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~3/A8FHsI4VpRg/paradigm-shift.html" title="Paradigm Shift" /><author><name>WeirdISgooD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03741827825742257250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/2009/10/paradigm-shift.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A04CRXgyeyp7ImA9WxNSGUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376.post-6869946496447051256</id><published>2009-09-03T11:58:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2009-09-03T12:09:24.693+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-03T12:09:24.693+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="depression" /><title>Oil spill</title><content type="html">So afraid of putting pen to paper, for fear of what may spill. Needlessly I complicate my life, but all I'm trying to do is make the best of what I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;R mentioned that something's happened to make all the Virgo's withdraw into their shells, and I know that's true when it comes to me. This birthday was a slow moving, hazy nightmare. With nothing really scary, yet so much pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24, and already tired of fighting life. Blessed with family, people who care, food, shelter, a job, even excess flab to support me in case there's a famine, and I'm still so unhappy ! Don't pray, so not interested in begging, or recriminations. Cliched, but true, to have everything and nothing all in one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is why I refuse to update this blog. No one wants to read a whine, and my sense of humour has up and disappeared, leaving behind sarcasm, tinged with fear, depression and heavy with the stench of anger.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12244376-6869946496447051256?l=ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-PWgXchzv1Ue5XomrWi1S2p2MVI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-PWgXchzv1Ue5XomrWi1S2p2MVI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~4/S9BeiDqUNXM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/6869946496447051256/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12244376&amp;postID=6869946496447051256&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/6869946496447051256?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/6869946496447051256?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~3/S9BeiDqUNXM/oil-spill.html" title="Oil spill" /><author><name>WeirdISgooD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03741827825742257250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/2009/09/oil-spill.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUIGQn44fip7ImA9WxVREEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376.post-4191082793979567523</id><published>2009-01-11T03:19:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2009-01-16T03:42:03.036+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-01-16T03:42:03.036+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="poetry" /><title>It's all been said before</title><content type="html">You're supposedly the part time lover&lt;br /&gt;And full time friend.&lt;br /&gt;The craggy steep hill&lt;br /&gt;And where the road bends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're the last train home&lt;br /&gt;The scenic myopic route&lt;br /&gt;The hand that keys the thoughts&lt;br /&gt;The head that walks on air&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're the secret that I keep&lt;br /&gt;The cries of the gulls&lt;br /&gt;The storm that beckons&lt;br /&gt;The story still unfolds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MjC&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12244376-4191082793979567523?l=ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WWo2TylhN_hJ3DBGx_brw0lWBgE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WWo2TylhN_hJ3DBGx_brw0lWBgE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~4/mmwIpvD1C4A" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/4191082793979567523/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12244376&amp;postID=4191082793979567523&amp;isPopup=true" title="11 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/4191082793979567523?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/4191082793979567523?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~3/mmwIpvD1C4A/its-all-been-said-before.html" title="It's all been said before" /><author><name>WeirdISgooD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03741827825742257250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>11</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/2009/01/its-all-been-said-before.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUMQXg9fip7ImA9WxRQEUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376.post-4376175154932751708</id><published>2008-10-05T14:27:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2008-10-05T14:31:20.666+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-10-05T14:31:20.666+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="weight loss" /><title>I follow two diets, one just isnt enough.</title><content type="html">From the past 6 months or so, I resolved I needed to lose about 30 kilos, the healthiest and fastest way I could. In December 2007, I weighed all of a very flabby, miserable and roly poly 84 kilos. Needless to say, on my 5 ft 3 frame, it all looked like a very robust sack of potatoes destined for the relief of a famine ravaged country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I’m a fat, but healthier 74 kilos. And the work is still in progress. It’s all a combination of diet, hunger pangs, exercise, green tea and looking long and hard at all the lovely clothes i want to wear, but cant because my flubber makes itself very prominent in spandex ltd. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post does have a point, before I ramble any more. My motto for most anything in life is, If you do what you always did, you’ll get what you always got. And that is helping me bear whatever small discomfort and big problems that life keeps throwing at me. It’s weird, how one after another I’m in such scrapes, where my reality and sense of self tethers on my uncertain future. The point of this post is the learning curve you experience when you try to change an aspect of yourself, and the fun you have on the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve learned that I’m not as addicted to coffee as I once thought I was. It’s been a coffee free 3 months, and I’m not having any cravings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve learned that although Tea does taste like Cat’s piss, Green tea with mint and no sugar is bearable. ANYTHING to fit into that lovely halter top and mini corduroy skirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve learned that sugar free gum and popcorn without salt is God’s gift to the horizontally challenged lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve learned you can go on for another minute on the Treadmill long after you think you’re going to collapse from exhaustion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve learned that sports Bra’s are very, very, very expensive, and not just for teenyboppers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve learned that when I tell myself I can, or can’t, despite my skepticism, my body and will really does bend itself to my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve begun to love the mornings, contrary to my earlier belief that life begins after 8 pm. The reason for this is, I’ve stopped having dinner except on days when I’ve skipped lunch unintentionally. I can eat most what I want in the mornings, so when I wake up, I’m inevitably dreaming of steaks, eggs, chocolate mocha coffee, and the leftovers from whatever awesome dinner my mum cooked. Nevertheless, I settle for a little bit of the leftover dish, one bowl of muesli with milk, and green tea. When the night comes, I’m surviving on popcorn or sugar free gum, and praying like crazy for the morning. But I absolutely refuse to open the fridge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve fallen head over heels for my I pod. It helps me bear the weights, the boredom, the soreness, and the tedium of the elliptical/ cycling/ rowing machine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve begun reading up and counting calories on mostly everything I eat, and the way that people look at me astonished and tell me I’ve lost weight is a bit of motivation and adequate compensation for that day’s grueling run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever anyone asks me how I’ve lost weight, I now have a politically incorrect, but apt answer. I work out, and bear hunger pangs after 7 pm. You want it, you gotta do that too. Most of them just slinker away. Really, what did they think, I prayed and the weight just flew off and landed on the nearest bar of chocolate for someone’s consumption ?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish me luck, another 10 kilos to go before Christmas !&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12244376-4376175154932751708?l=ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-wlWmM0awG8pyL7C6_sBwg-eaxY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-wlWmM0awG8pyL7C6_sBwg-eaxY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~4/6qW0qv8OXi4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/4376175154932751708/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12244376&amp;postID=4376175154932751708&amp;isPopup=true" title="12 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/4376175154932751708?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/4376175154932751708?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~3/6qW0qv8OXi4/i-follow-two-diets-one-just-isnt-enough.html" title="I follow two diets, one just isnt enough." /><author><name>WeirdISgooD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03741827825742257250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>12</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-follow-two-diets-one-just-isnt-enough.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQAQX0-eCp7ImA9WxRRFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376.post-4388367698114134038</id><published>2008-09-27T11:54:00.006+05:30</published><updated>2008-09-27T12:05:40.350+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-09-27T12:05:40.350+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="humour" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="personality" /><title>10 Reasons why I cant become a nun.</title><content type="html">I thought of this post while doing the dishes. Strange, but true, thoughts like these arise when life is at its most mundane. The rest of the time you’re too busy actually living to write about it or analyze it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish all my nonexistent readers would comment. Unfair, but there are some horrific blogs out there, with content that even a 5 year old would call gibberish, and they have traffic like Bombay at 7 pm, and look at me. Well, my inner voice screams, no one comments because no one updates :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there, I begin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 reasons why I can’t become a nun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite my childhood dreams of becoming a nun, here are the reasons why I shall fail miserably at that vocation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason 1: I am too much of an Elitist. No no, I can sit cross legged and enjoy a meal on Banana leaves and drink water out of my hands, but when it comes to the language, oh well, I am a Nazi. Example; Conversation with Mr F,I say I'm not interested in that, thank you. Idiot then asks me, hey, why are you thanking me, what did I say. And I think, why am I wasting my precious time on this buffoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Insert Saki quote "I came here to get away from the inane interruptions of the mentally deficient, but it seems I asked too much of fate"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason 2: The other day at the super market, the cashier was frantically trying to attract my attention. I was too busy ogling the derriere of this really hot Lebanese/ Egyptian/ Syrian/ I don't care where he's from guy. What assets I tell you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason 3: I will rarely, if ever turn the other cheek. You attack, I will retaliate. Chances are it will be later rather than sooner, but it will be a sarcastic, caustic remark, or, if things are really bad, I can break your nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason 4: I pray at random times. It’s a private conversation with God, and I’m not inclined to attending Mass on every day of obligation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason 5 : I love shoes and clothes and grooming myself. I cannot imagine myself in a habit, with old mother Hubbard shoes, and a mustache because I cant visit the parlor. I think I do a social service when I groom :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason 6: I want to be able to torture my progeny. You know, the way my folks used to, and still do. Want something, mum directs me to my dad. Dad says, ask mum. All the while, I tether on the brink of insanity. What fun to be able to do that to someone else. Evil, evil thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason 7: Some convents have a vow of silence. I can hear you choke on your laughter, so I will preserve my dignity and enough said. Hmmpppphhh !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason 8: Social service is my thing, I love doing it, but after I run and save the world from whatever disaster has affected it, I will need to recline with a good book and a cup of coffee. Maybe even a drink. And besides, i love good food. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason 9: I love reading. There are no bad authors or good authors, there are just books that either make you think or make you puke. Each one is an idea, and well, I cant think of being morally or spiritually barred from reading something. I think the principles I’ve been raised with suffice to make me aware of bad or good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason 10: Another aspect of social service I cannot overlook. What will happen to all the HAWWWT GUYS who I will someday date? Poor fellows will be left bereft and lonesome. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, no vow of chastity and silence for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12244376-4388367698114134038?l=ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/A3XEYN3qQCKtbsEmKDYC8s55pQk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/A3XEYN3qQCKtbsEmKDYC8s55pQk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~4/foL0YujqcHk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/4388367698114134038/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12244376&amp;postID=4388367698114134038&amp;isPopup=true" title="11 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/4388367698114134038?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/4388367698114134038?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~3/foL0YujqcHk/10-reasons-why-i-cant-become-nun.html" title="10 Reasons why I cant become a nun." /><author><name>WeirdiSgooD</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cU6nZlUNjJE/R7PzuQkCJXI/AAAAAAAAABA/dtEyCRQ3R3s/S220/fewlastdayz+044.jpg" /></author><thr:total>11</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/2008/09/10-reasons-why-i-cant-become-nun.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0QMQnsyeCp7ImA9WxdbEEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376.post-2610024984174356317</id><published>2008-08-07T12:06:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2008-08-07T12:13:03.590+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-08-07T12:13:03.590+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friends" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="poetry" /><title>Walk a mile</title><content type="html">She walked a mile in his shoes&lt;br /&gt;He walked along with her&lt;br /&gt;What they found none divulged&lt;br /&gt;But only time would tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se asked him for a little loaf&lt;br /&gt;He gave her bread aplenty&lt;br /&gt;They broke bread together often; yet&lt;br /&gt;She always went hungry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He wanted more, he always did&lt;br /&gt;She yearned for quiet and peace,&lt;br /&gt;They justified the distance when&lt;br /&gt;Their opinions never did meet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They thought alike, friends together&lt;br /&gt;Each other's sole companions&lt;br /&gt;The years went by and still they met&lt;br /&gt;With knowledge incomplete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asked her for a little book,&lt;br /&gt;A little love, a little pen.&lt;br /&gt;She gave him all that and more;&lt;br /&gt;Two friends who shared their shoes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12244376-2610024984174356317?l=ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Vo0yP_UlXB1SlX_0plBv6HUIq7E/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Vo0yP_UlXB1SlX_0plBv6HUIq7E/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~4/QpRRRtiDpSg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/2610024984174356317/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12244376&amp;postID=2610024984174356317&amp;isPopup=true" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/2610024984174356317?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/2610024984174356317?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~3/QpRRRtiDpSg/walk-mile.html" title="Walk a mile" /><author><name>WeirdiSgooD</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cU6nZlUNjJE/R7PzuQkCJXI/AAAAAAAAABA/dtEyCRQ3R3s/S220/fewlastdayz+044.jpg" /></author><thr:total>7</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/2008/08/walk-mile.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE4GRn05fCp7ImA9WxdVFUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376.post-432414753693379614</id><published>2008-07-21T01:04:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2008-07-21T01:12:07.324+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-21T01:12:07.324+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="bombay" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life" /><title>Excavations.</title><content type="html">One of my favourite poets Ogden Nash once said, and I quote; "Because some tortures are physical and some are mental,&lt;br /&gt;But the one that is both is dental.&lt;br /&gt;It is hard to be self-possessed&lt;br /&gt;With your jaw digging into your chest."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I empathize.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had this awful gap where my molar or premolar or one of those teeth that help me chew those steaks was supposed to be. It had stubbornly resisted the onslaught of beef, gum, chocolates, and what not, and the root refused to dislodge from wherever it was comfortably sitting. This led to an awful stench, every time i opened my mouth it smelt like the backwaters of Bombay so i just had to have it extracted. Off i went, skippety hoppety to the dentist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'm very stoic, and sweet and even tempered. The milk of human kindness runs in my veins like the Ganges, perennial and with a constant stream of people doing their best to wash their dirty linen in it. But, but, BUT, that dentist really tried my patience, and how.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He took one look at my mouth and said, 5 fillings 1 extraction. Today we remove, and tomorrow we fill in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said ok. I mean i know the routine of ice cream after extraction. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not a glutton, but thing is, nowadays, every time i open my mouth to eat something, everyone looks at me like I'm depriving entire Somalia of a months rations. I really need to lose the flab. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, back to the dentist. After injecting me with anesthesia, he cleans it up and pulls it out. Even with the shots, it hurt. I stoically refused to scream. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One hour later the throbbing begins. I paid the b******* to hurt me. I will never ever eat chocolates, and forget to brush my teeth at night ever again, i promise myself. The missing tooth throbs. And throbs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We go to watch Kung Fu Panda. The tooth throbs so much that i threaten the kid sitting next to me in the theater, "You say one more word and I'll shove my fingers in your mouth and take out all your teeth." The kid gets terrified, and shuts up. For the rest of the movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next day, the fillings. He digs and prods, and cleans. I think to myself, this is how I'm going to die, mouth wide open and my silent screams echoing in my head. On this chair. Doesn't happen. He fills the stuff in. So much ceramic its like a crockery outlet inside my mouth. He asks me to snap my jaws. I do so, imagining i was a crocodile, and it was his head that i was snapping. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go home, finish the rest of the tub of ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week later, i forget to brush my teeth before bed again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please read that poem. You will be in splits.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12244376-432414753693379614?l=ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LRUHedWO2pPyDTzfc3Oy1yOygOU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LRUHedWO2pPyDTzfc3Oy1yOygOU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~4/qi1QyU6hhs4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/432414753693379614/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12244376&amp;postID=432414753693379614&amp;isPopup=true" title="10 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/432414753693379614?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/432414753693379614?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~3/qi1QyU6hhs4/excavations.html" title="Excavations." /><author><name>WeirdiSgooD</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cU6nZlUNjJE/R7PzuQkCJXI/AAAAAAAAABA/dtEyCRQ3R3s/S220/fewlastdayz+044.jpg" /></author><thr:total>10</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/2008/07/excavations.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0ECQns6eyp7ImA9WxdVEUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376.post-3468264552356651787</id><published>2008-07-16T13:33:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2008-07-16T13:37:43.513+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-16T13:37:43.513+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="bombay" /><title>Tic tac toe.</title><content type="html">I'm back in Oman, and it feels so strange. I'm in solitary confinement, all friends so far away, no long 1 rupee calls away ... no vada pao, no pani puri's, no Julie, no kulfi or CCD at Marine drive, and oh, most of all, no dirt, no trains, no Bandra shopping, no bus hopping, no Goa...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you get the point. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will blog about the holiday in a  while. If i do it now I'll start sobbing my guts out and that is bad for my diet. Water should retent ;D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12244376-3468264552356651787?l=ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aL-8qqJXy-ViJWD4XxY5yP0LdCU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aL-8qqJXy-ViJWD4XxY5yP0LdCU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~4/ns0apwderl8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/3468264552356651787/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12244376&amp;postID=3468264552356651787&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/3468264552356651787?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/3468264552356651787?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~3/ns0apwderl8/tic-tac-toe.html" title="Tic tac toe." /><author><name>WeirdISgooD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03741827825742257250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/2008/07/tic-tac-toe.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEEMRXo9eSp7ImA9WxdSE0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376.post-413637908960485403</id><published>2008-05-21T01:11:00.004+05:30</published><updated>2008-05-21T01:14:44.461+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-05-21T01:14:44.461+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="humour" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="religion" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Self unhelp" /><title>Cheese, anyone ?</title><content type="html">The other day,while chatting with a friend, i came up with one of my inevitable wisecracks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were just discussing this Damocles sword hanging over my head, in the form of the CFA Level 1 ...and how I really needed help and prayers. I asked him to pray for me, apparently since God nowadays listens to sinners. He replied, "But I thought God helped those who helps themselves."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, " Oh, no God is changing. Someone moved his cheese."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guffaw.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12244376-413637908960485403?l=ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/m2aEf3z_C-9zgUT2BiWZulWW-rE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/m2aEf3z_C-9zgUT2BiWZulWW-rE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~4/7t4t9HANe4I" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/413637908960485403/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12244376&amp;postID=413637908960485403&amp;isPopup=true" title="9 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/413637908960485403?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/413637908960485403?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~3/7t4t9HANe4I/cheese-anyone.html" title="Cheese, anyone ?" /><author><name>WeirdiSgooD</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cU6nZlUNjJE/R7PzuQkCJXI/AAAAAAAAABA/dtEyCRQ3R3s/S220/fewlastdayz+044.jpg" /></author><thr:total>9</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/2008/05/cheese-anyone.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEIMRXwyfSp7ImA9WxdVF0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376.post-2165761854955866329</id><published>2008-05-19T03:29:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2008-07-23T01:26:24.295+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-23T01:26:24.295+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="tag" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="random" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friends" /><title>Random Digressions ...</title><content type="html">Got this from &lt;a href="http://digressionsrandom.blogspot.com/"&gt;Divya's&lt;/a&gt; blog ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, Rules:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Put your MP3 player on shuffle.&lt;br /&gt;2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.&lt;br /&gt;3. You must write the name of the song no matter what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here goes !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.IF SOMEONE SAYS “IS THIS OKAY?” YOU SAY?&lt;br /&gt;Ans. Kryptonite -3 doors down. (If i go crazy then will you still call me Sooopermaaan) :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY ?&lt;br /&gt;Ans. Bryan Adams- On a day like today (The whole world could change) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?&lt;br /&gt;Ans. The Beegees - Still waters run deep. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?&lt;br /&gt;Ans. The Beegees -How deep is your love (yes well the Lord does like to rub it in...I'm very single and ready to mingle)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF YOUR LIFE ?&lt;br /&gt;Ans. Brad Carter- Morning always comes too soon. (hahahahahahahahahahaha ...yes, procrastination it is) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?&lt;br /&gt;Ans. Alphaville- All about the money (yeah well now YOU know it too :( ...mercenary i am) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?&lt;br /&gt;Ans. Bobby Mcferrin- Don't worry, be happy ( Choi, krisu ...what say ? ) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR PARENTS?&lt;br /&gt;Ans.Alicia Keys- No one ( Au contraire - everything :) )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?&lt;br /&gt;Ans. Billy Joel -River of dreams. ( on the spot this one- Hope it doesn't take the rest of my life till i finally find what I'm looking for!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.WHAT IS 2+2?&lt;br /&gt;Ans. Alice Dj- Celebrate our love :D .... no comments ...They did say addition and not multiplying ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?&lt;br /&gt;Ans.The Beach boys- California dreaming ( All the leaves are brown, and the sky is grey ....i just miss him so much) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12.WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE ?&lt;br /&gt;Ans. Chris Daughtry -Home ( people i like ? )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13.WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?&lt;br /&gt;Ans. Chris de burgh- Lady in red ( I have no bloody idea why this one came up) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14.WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?&lt;br /&gt;Ans.Mylo- Drop the pressure ( If i grow anymore, i think the center of gravity would shift) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15.WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?&lt;br /&gt;Ans. Chemical brothers- Hey girl, hey boy ( I DO NOT swing) !!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16.WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?&lt;br /&gt;Ans. Bryan Adams- Where angels fear to tread ( Oh well... )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17.WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?&lt;br /&gt;Ans. Bobby Vee- Poetry in motion ( when i see my baby, what do i see :D ...not bad no ?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18.WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?&lt;br /&gt;Ans. Sam Cooke- Win your love for me ( if some miracle could win your love for me ...hehehe ...you think i could ask the good Lord that ) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19.WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?&lt;br /&gt;Ans. Breaker j- Higher state of consciousness ( Narcotics/ books/ coffee ...what is the posion really ? )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20.WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET? &lt;br /&gt;Ans. Simon and Garfunkel- El pasa condor ( I'd rather be a sparrow than a snail .... secret...i think not...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21.WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?&lt;br /&gt;Ans.CCR- Brown eyed girl ( Standing in the sunlight laughing ..) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Divya's additional question, according to the next song I hear ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOURSELF?&lt;br /&gt;Mine says: If i had eyes- Jack Johnson ( Ha ... More of this or less of this or is there any difference) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There ...now i tag Choi and Krisu, and everyone who reads this post too :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12244376-2165761854955866329?l=ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1o80st1wRfPFfJ91BE5VzfLQ8J0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1o80st1wRfPFfJ91BE5VzfLQ8J0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~4/o8gTBx0gX6Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/2165761854955866329/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12244376&amp;postID=2165761854955866329&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/2165761854955866329?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/2165761854955866329?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~3/o8gTBx0gX6Q/random-digressions.html" title="Random Digressions ..." /><author><name>WeirdISgooD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03741827825742257250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/2008/05/random-digressions.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkUCQX8_fip7ImA9WxZWF0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376.post-8570858669167681531</id><published>2008-03-18T05:26:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-18T05:27:40.146+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-03-18T05:27:40.146+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="humour" /><title>Stress</title><content type="html">My brother is doing strange things these days. Oh, its not that I can stand most of the shenanigans he’s usually up to, but my sibling is beginning to worry me. Today I caught him drinking water out of a bottle. Now don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing strange about that, but umm, it’s the way he was doing it. He has made a hole in the cap, and was squeezing the bottle so that the water spurted out of the hole into his mouth. It sort of looked like the bottle was pissing into his mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Must be the exam stress, Makes people behave unusually. I wonder if my stress manifested itself like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell …next song on the playlist by default. Divine advice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12244376-8570858669167681531?l=ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eJ6TkhMOYwkIAF63i7KAKdVGIOQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/eJ6TkhMOYwkIAF63i7KAKdVGIOQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~4/H06WHpOluC0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/8570858669167681531/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12244376&amp;postID=8570858669167681531&amp;isPopup=true" title="12 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/8570858669167681531?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/8570858669167681531?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~3/H06WHpOluC0/stress.html" title="Stress" /><author><name>WeirdiSgooD</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cU6nZlUNjJE/R7PzuQkCJXI/AAAAAAAAABA/dtEyCRQ3R3s/S220/fewlastdayz+044.jpg" /></author><thr:total>12</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/2008/03/stress.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEIFRH0-eSp7ImA9WxZWE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376.post-1099288277754393976</id><published>2008-03-13T01:54:00.003+05:30</published><updated>2008-03-13T02:45:15.351+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-03-13T02:45:15.351+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="humour" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Self unhelp" /><title>Winner !</title><content type="html">After all the stuff I've been reading, thinking and then blogging about, i decided to stay away from this part of the world for a while. Utter rubbish i tell you ! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love and all phoooey goeey. So Kaka! Well, since i stayed away i know for sure YOU stayed away too :D ...oh and you can blame it on the Lenten fast. I swear, despite my love for chocolates, if the Easter bunny comes around now, I might just ignore the proferred chocolate eggs and roast the bugger for dinner. Even my dreams are of Roast chicken and potatoes :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But ahh, something really funny happened the other day. As usual, i was grumbling about all the stuff i didn't have, and how things were not happening in my life ( like ha, things could happen in this pocket of the world) and my dad told me this anecdote ..but yes, after crying and then laughing my guts out, i decided to blog it for posterity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Jew ( I'm not  anti - semitic so I'm sorry because it's always a Jew in these cases) but yes, a Jew prayed day after day, Oh Lord, please let me win the lottery, Oh Lord, please let me win the lottery ...and so on. After a few years, the Jew got tired of making these heartrending demands and cried out " Oh Lord, please grant me this one boon, Oh Lord, please let me win the lottery." Suddenly there's thunder, and lightning and the Jew hears a voice from heaven saying, " Child, why don't you first go purchase a lottery ticket, and then maybe i could help you win it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suffice to say, I'm not going around whining to Dad anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12244376-1099288277754393976?l=ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MNROKAw-ehMfKZmw9HjFe-0pHsg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MNROKAw-ehMfKZmw9HjFe-0pHsg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~4/EkIgExi7Zb0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/1099288277754393976/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12244376&amp;postID=1099288277754393976&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/1099288277754393976?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/1099288277754393976?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~3/EkIgExi7Zb0/winner.html" title="Winner !" /><author><name>WeirdiSgooD</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cU6nZlUNjJE/R7PzuQkCJXI/AAAAAAAAABA/dtEyCRQ3R3s/S220/fewlastdayz+044.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/2008/03/winner.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEMBSX87fip7ImA9WxZXEEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376.post-1895916073147003480</id><published>2008-02-27T03:08:00.001+05:30</published><updated>2008-02-27T03:17:38.106+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-02-27T03:17:38.106+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="poetry" /><title>Seize the day !</title><content type="html">It is dull&lt;br /&gt;It is windy&lt;br /&gt;It is hurting&lt;br /&gt;It will pass&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sniffling&lt;br /&gt;I am worried&lt;br /&gt;I am writing&lt;br /&gt;I will be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time is constant&lt;br /&gt;Time is changing&lt;br /&gt;Time is fleeting&lt;br /&gt;Carpe de diem !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, what are you waiting for ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12244376-1895916073147003480?l=ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WwENPOCZLSntjsKidPrpcNVKQqs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WwENPOCZLSntjsKidPrpcNVKQqs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WwENPOCZLSntjsKidPrpcNVKQqs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WwENPOCZLSntjsKidPrpcNVKQqs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~4/BSKw4QTjgeE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/1895916073147003480/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12244376&amp;postID=1895916073147003480&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/1895916073147003480?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/1895916073147003480?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~3/BSKw4QTjgeE/blog-post.html" title="Seize the day !" /><author><name>WeirdiSgooD</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cU6nZlUNjJE/R7PzuQkCJXI/AAAAAAAAABA/dtEyCRQ3R3s/S220/fewlastdayz+044.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/2008/02/blog-post.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0cGSXc8fyp7ImA9WxZQGUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376.post-6571358094661959026</id><published>2008-02-26T03:58:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2008-02-26T04:07:08.977+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-02-26T04:07:08.977+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="books" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="love" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="writing" /><title>Oh not because happiness exists...</title><content type="html">I’ve just finished The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. And I’ve cried again. I’ve read it while I’m supposed to be immersed in Economics, and it’s so different and beautiful after those Jude Deveraux books that i read at the rate of one per day, just…because. I’d be ashamed for anyone to know I read them, although they are nice, for that genre. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, back to The Time Traveler’s Wife, in the midst of the benefits of monopoly, and I realize this is why I want to write; because, in all honesty, I really don’t give a shit about Economics. Let’s face it. Today, tomorrow, if the world doesn’t end, maybe a hundred years from now even, people will do business to earn a profit, and someone will be earning shit loads of money, and be intensely unhappy or happy despite or because of that. And someone somewhere will be struggling with a business that’s making a loss year after year, but he will still be at it because he began it, so he has to keep going on because it’s not ok, so it’s not the end. And people will starve and that’s the way it is and THIS is what I want to do. Write this way to make people cry, because it’s so often that I laugh really. Random things that make me laugh which I forget, but I cry so rarely its like a momentous occasion when something evokes that much emotion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someday I’m going to write a book, just one book that will make everyone weep copiously. Not for the fame or fortune, just that feeling of reading and crying silent tears for someone who doesn’t exist, may not ever exist, but I want to love and make alive. I didn’t really read the book you know, most times that’s what I do, skim the book and get to the end in a rush, because I want to know what happens and how it turns out. Now my curiosity is appeased, maybe I’ll savor the book again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a bad cold, and my throat hurts, and my wisdom tooth (the right side one) is hurting me like hell because it just decided it should make its debut. Wisdom tooth. WHAT timing really!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s just rarely that I write bout this maybe, or it’s quite often, but I’m waiting to fall in love. Since I’ve never really been there, and I’ve been such a doormat despite that, I wonder what I’ll be like when it does happen, to love and be loved and that’s that. Imagine, to love someone so much I’d cook for him and work hard to really make the stuff taste good, which is SUCH a big thing for me really, since I loathe cooking and most times just do it perfunctorily, out of necessity because mum is tired after work, or sick, or the vegetables in the fridge are looking desolate and feeling unwanted. Maybe it’s not their destiny to be delicious gourmet under mum’s loving care, but martyrs under mine. Better to burn than fade away fits nicely no ?  :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe the love thing will happen when I’ve resolved all these issues inside my head, and my life, who knows. Have to become perfectly imperfect to feel that perfection ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I cook to reassure dad that I’m not going to turn into a hopeless housewife, despite the occasional bursts of cleanliness and constant absentmindedness. I just know I’ll be a mother who gives her kids too much freedom, and then obsess about it if I have kids that is)&lt;br /&gt;I wrote this down in a book with a pencil, so fast that the writing is awful, as usual, there are no spelling errors, but my hand hurts. I just didn’t want these thoughts disappearing like the others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, back to Economics.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12244376-6571358094661959026?l=ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aWhfiRFlczIdx0nCZAM7_OaH1fI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aWhfiRFlczIdx0nCZAM7_OaH1fI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~4/7Ew2KAkcNys" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/6571358094661959026/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12244376&amp;postID=6571358094661959026&amp;isPopup=true" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/6571358094661959026?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/6571358094661959026?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~3/7Ew2KAkcNys/oh-not-because-happiness-exists.html" title="Oh not because happiness exists..." /><author><name>WeirdiSgooD</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cU6nZlUNjJE/R7PzuQkCJXI/AAAAAAAAABA/dtEyCRQ3R3s/S220/fewlastdayz+044.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/2008/02/oh-not-because-happiness-exists.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0IARn0-eSp7ImA9WxZRGUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376.post-8248466104093799955</id><published>2008-02-14T13:19:00.002+05:30</published><updated>2008-02-14T13:22:27.351+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-02-14T13:22:27.351+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="depression" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life" /><title>Totototototonggg.</title><content type="html">Why do certain things happen ? &lt;br /&gt;My dad says that whatever happens happens for the best. Considering the various things that have happened to me, I know they were lessons I had to learn, problem is its like the books one reads, you read and digest, then fail to expunge or practice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take for example my first crush. He was from a community I really mocked and despised, and I fell for him when I was only 14, the age when I thought that my beliefs were supreme and everyone else was second rate, to be heard and then ignored. Ah well, that one secret is now bloglic. So no one can blackmail me with it.&lt;br /&gt;Only, certain things make you wonder just what the purpose behind them is. Like the rash on my butt. No purpose behind it, cept for the fact that I scratch with heart and soul and true passion.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12244376-8248466104093799955?l=ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1iFxwQOygLrfb1cBarG8XT0BErs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1iFxwQOygLrfb1cBarG8XT0BErs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1iFxwQOygLrfb1cBarG8XT0BErs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/1iFxwQOygLrfb1cBarG8XT0BErs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~4/PuRBDw-bI0c" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/8248466104093799955/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12244376&amp;postID=8248466104093799955&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/8248466104093799955?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/8248466104093799955?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~3/PuRBDw-bI0c/totototototonggg.html" title="Totototototonggg." /><author><name>WeirdiSgooD</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cU6nZlUNjJE/R7PzuQkCJXI/AAAAAAAAABA/dtEyCRQ3R3s/S220/fewlastdayz+044.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/2008/02/totototototonggg.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4CR38-eip7ImA9WxdbFEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376.post-8477435200432296167</id><published>2008-01-14T02:16:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-08-11T18:52:46.152+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-08-11T18:52:46.152+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Fatso" /><title>Marginal Mentality</title><content type="html">Today i realized that something within me is really, really begging for a bar of chocolate. Its been ages since I've wolfed down some of the good stuff. Amidst this inhuman( nearly) task of working out and avoiding dinner, I've given up and started hogging again, but in this weird spasmodic way, where i suddenly eat and decide all is in vain and then stop again. At least i can safely say I'm not bulimic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blah, enough about me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12244376-8477435200432296167?l=ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3Ee_VI9rgtpFy-vlcwk5qF8JC1Q/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3Ee_VI9rgtpFy-vlcwk5qF8JC1Q/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3Ee_VI9rgtpFy-vlcwk5qF8JC1Q/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3Ee_VI9rgtpFy-vlcwk5qF8JC1Q/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~4/blwDn-xkz24" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/8477435200432296167/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12244376&amp;postID=8477435200432296167&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/8477435200432296167?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/8477435200432296167?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~3/blwDn-xkz24/marginal-mentality.html" title="Marginal Mentality" /><author><name>WeirdISgooD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03741827825742257250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/2008/01/marginal-mentality.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08MQnk8cCp7ImA9WB9aFkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376.post-506416088778504269</id><published>2008-01-07T03:08:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-01-07T03:14:43.778+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-01-07T03:14:43.778+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="CFA" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Self unhelp" /><title>It has begun.</title><content type="html">I went and picked up the CFA curriculum today. Mum drove me over and oh dear, its 7 and some odd kg's and its terrifying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are 6 wonderful books, with wonderful names that seem oh so learned and i may end up being the world's richest investment banker someday, but right now all that I know is that when i open the book the words swim in my head and everything is so pretty :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't go gymmimg yesterday ( out of sheer laziness) and today we had to go for mass, so no gym again, due to lack of transport. In between panicking about magnitude of the CFA curriculum, and the limit of my mental capacity, i will try and get driver's license here in Oman. I really need it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can someone please make me a cup of coffee ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12244376-506416088778504269?l=ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MlNZzPS68f26DcgTnJajJHzcpZM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MlNZzPS68f26DcgTnJajJHzcpZM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MlNZzPS68f26DcgTnJajJHzcpZM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MlNZzPS68f26DcgTnJajJHzcpZM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~4/I_AF1MWcuBI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/506416088778504269/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12244376&amp;postID=506416088778504269&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/506416088778504269?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/506416088778504269?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~3/I_AF1MWcuBI/it-has-begun.html" title="It has begun." /><author><name>WeirdISgooD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03741827825742257250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/2008/01/it-has-begun.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0YHQX8yeyp7ImA9WB9aEEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376.post-712151016260239120</id><published>2007-12-31T14:12:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-12-31T14:22:10.193+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2007-12-31T14:22:10.193+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="humour" /><title>Terror</title><content type="html">No new year resolutions yet. Have to sit down and write. Not blogged in ages but blame OMANTEL for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New word for the day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tortilicious. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It refers to being tortured by the idea that your folks are gonna find out about that *bad* thing you're doing, but feeling delicious while you're doing it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12244376-712151016260239120?l=ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NSkPDondSiCAkgqpUG6oEwxUjy4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NSkPDondSiCAkgqpUG6oEwxUjy4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NSkPDondSiCAkgqpUG6oEwxUjy4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NSkPDondSiCAkgqpUG6oEwxUjy4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~4/PdrKpRo1HJw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/712151016260239120/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12244376&amp;postID=712151016260239120&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/712151016260239120?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/712151016260239120?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~3/PdrKpRo1HJw/terror.html" title="Terror" /><author><name>WeirdISgooD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03741827825742257250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/2007/12/terror.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEMEQX47fyp7ImA9WB9VFU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376.post-7764343974166410720</id><published>2007-12-01T23:30:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-12-01T23:36:40.007+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2007-12-01T23:36:40.007+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life" /><title>Farewell.</title><content type="html">I'm staring out into the night,&lt;br /&gt;Trying to hide the pain.&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to the place where love&lt;br /&gt;And feeling good don't ever cost a thing.&lt;br /&gt;And the pain you feel's a different kind of pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going home,&lt;br /&gt;Back to the place where I belong,&lt;br /&gt;And where your love has always been enough for me.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not running from.&lt;br /&gt;No, I think you got me all wrong.&lt;br /&gt;I don't regret this life I chose for me.&lt;br /&gt;But these places and these faces are getting old&lt;br /&gt;So I'm going home.&lt;br /&gt;Well I'm going home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be careful what you wish for,&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you just might get it all.&lt;br /&gt;You just might get it all,&lt;br /&gt;And then some you don't want.&lt;br /&gt;Be careful what you wish for,&lt;br /&gt;'Cause you just might get it all.&lt;br /&gt;You just might get it all, yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, well I'm going home,&lt;br /&gt;Back to the place where I belong,&lt;br /&gt;And where your love has always been enough for me.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not running from.&lt;br /&gt;No, I think you got me all wrong.&lt;br /&gt;I don't regret this life I chose for me.&lt;br /&gt;But these places and these faces are getting old.&lt;br /&gt;I said these places and these faces are getting old.&lt;br /&gt;So I'm going home.&lt;br /&gt;I'm going home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lyrics: Chris Daughtry - Home lyrics&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm flying out on the 19th of December. Might be back next year or not, I really don't know. It was a really fast decision, and I'm going home. Back to what I once ran away from and I have made my peace with now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12244376-7764343974166410720?l=ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/arJ2pQF3bWZRQojb6pP8azhQtPk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/arJ2pQF3bWZRQojb6pP8azhQtPk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/arJ2pQF3bWZRQojb6pP8azhQtPk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/arJ2pQF3bWZRQojb6pP8azhQtPk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~4/SrIFQEfsS5Y" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/7764343974166410720/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12244376&amp;postID=7764343974166410720&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/7764343974166410720?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/7764343974166410720?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~3/SrIFQEfsS5Y/farewell.html" title="Farewell." /><author><name>WeirdISgooD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03741827825742257250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/2007/12/farewell.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE4ARnoyfSp7ImA9WB9WFU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376.post-7675799752300671044</id><published>2007-11-20T01:35:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2007-11-20T01:39:07.495+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2007-11-20T01:39:07.495+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Childhood" /><title>Childhood.</title><content type="html">&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QvsQ9hYKq7c&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QvsQ9hYKq7c&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one is for Walder. Because she drives me crazy singing. And it reminds me of the time i cried my heart out when Simba lost his dad. And watching movies with Brian. And cartoons. And balloons. And Hide and seek. Sadness is coming :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12244376-7675799752300671044?l=ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WvY5dR0dWqrtYn41i7ad4gEg0QE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WvY5dR0dWqrtYn41i7ad4gEg0QE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WvY5dR0dWqrtYn41i7ad4gEg0QE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/WvY5dR0dWqrtYn41i7ad4gEg0QE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~4/uG3UwvdAXsg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/7675799752300671044/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12244376&amp;postID=7675799752300671044&amp;isPopup=true" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/7675799752300671044?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/7675799752300671044?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~3/uG3UwvdAXsg/childhood.html" title="Childhood." /><author><name>WeirdiSgooD</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="30" height="32" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cU6nZlUNjJE/R7PzuQkCJXI/AAAAAAAAABA/dtEyCRQ3R3s/S220/fewlastdayz+044.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/2007/11/childhood.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4GSXw_eyp7ImA9WxdbFEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12244376.post-9037601851274817667</id><published>2007-10-16T02:57:00.000+05:30</published><updated>2008-08-11T18:52:08.243+05:30</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-08-11T18:52:08.243+05:30</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Self unhelp" /><title>Insomaniac</title><content type="html">Every night I struggle with myself. To sleep or not to sleep. The moment my tired eyes give in and let go, my brain gets into a frenzy and pictures the most horrific things, to make me jolt awake, light up, sit down and do crazy things like BLOG. At 3 am. Or mindlessly watch the idiot box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear my health and happiness is getting affected. Its a constant struggle, two parts of my mind warring for those precious 8 hours.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12244376-9037601851274817667?l=ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rhgK-4VtDRcJErIQG49w5j0Ikic/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rhgK-4VtDRcJErIQG49w5j0Ikic/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rhgK-4VtDRcJErIQG49w5j0Ikic/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rhgK-4VtDRcJErIQG49w5j0Ikic/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~4/z3myZXiO_Xw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/feeds/9037601851274817667/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12244376&amp;postID=9037601851274817667&amp;isPopup=true" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/9037601851274817667?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12244376/posts/default/9037601851274817667?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/GZqC/~3/z3myZXiO_Xw/insomaniac.html" title="Insomaniac" /><author><name>WeirdISgooD</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03741827825742257250</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ideasyncrasies.blogspot.com/2007/10/insomaniac.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

