<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104</id><updated>2011-10-31T01:35:31.204-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh-So-Lame.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>82</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-6438944873484162478</id><published>2011-07-27T23:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T23:53:16.778-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ah!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-IN"&gt;You know you’ve grown when you don’t know where to hide your face while going through some old diary entries and posts!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-IN"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; Oh well, but that's life!&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-6438944873484162478?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/6438944873484162478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=6438944873484162478' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6438944873484162478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6438944873484162478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2011/07/ah.html' title='Ah!'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-2016421025960960265</id><published>2011-05-08T10:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-08T11:14:55.575-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This post never happened. Eeeks</title><content type='html'>I don't know what I'm turning into.&lt;div&gt;I'm not giving certain "things" a thought ..that's all I know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh and did I mention that it's awesome?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want *that* bag. It makes its appearances in my dreams too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, that's how badly I want it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I use this place like Twitter. That reminds me, I should join Twitter and tweet away to glory. Hmm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That'll be all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My template sucks. I know. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What a boring post.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*yawns*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What made me post all this, again? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-2016421025960960265?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/2016421025960960265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=2016421025960960265' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/2016421025960960265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/2016421025960960265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2011/05/this-post-never-happened-eeeks.html' title='This post never happened. Eeeks'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-4860377946334330973</id><published>2011-04-06T02:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-06T02:19:12.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'>K3G. Yes, *that* K3G.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m watching Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham right now.Yes, judge me. I can hear you already -_-&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I don’t care. K3G makes me happy and brings back some memories I rather not talk about.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The amount of times “Aaa ..aa ..aaa ..aa. Kabhi khushi kabhi gham, na juda honge hum, kabhi khushi ..kabhi ghammm” comes is uncountable! And everyone’s just crying all the time and Kareena is so annoying and AB can’t get grumpier than this! But I still love watching such stupid brainless KJo drama shamas sometimes.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When I was tiny, I would dream of getting married and living in a joint family. Mamas, chachas, Dada-dadi, Nana-nani, Buas, Mausi, Mausa and a few kids here and there and four-five maids under one roof. Now, when I think about it, I shudder. Nothankyou :|&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The husbaaand and I should be fine and then maybe we’ll adopt here and there.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now, I must go back to my movie. SRK awaits.&lt;br /&gt;I really think they should make a sequel. What say people? :D&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;P.S: I’ve started throwing things at people when I get mad at them. Am I becoming crazy? Is this my violent streak?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I need some coolsummerinternshipthingwhichisfunandwhichalsopaysme. Yeah, something like that. You hear me!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-4860377946334330973?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/4860377946334330973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=4860377946334330973' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/4860377946334330973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/4860377946334330973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2011/04/k3g-yes-that-k3g.html' title='K3G. Yes, *that* K3G.'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-6206587002681694945</id><published>2011-03-27T00:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-27T00:47:15.089-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Titles are a bitch. No?</title><content type='html'>Sometimes when somebody pops up out of the blue and makes you feel good and helps you to come over something, you're in for a surprise and slowly you start expecting that out of the person every time. It's like that becomes his job - to make you feel better when you're down in the dumps. You feel like he did it last time, he'll do it again now. In fact, he'll do it at all times. And just when you start liking it, it stops.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody stays in your life forever. So, stop expecting that in the first place. With time, you will grow over some people, some people will grow over you, it’s like that. All this “forever” business - its bullshit. Best thing about this is, you know you have limited time with everybody who enters your life so guess you should make the best of it and be around those who make you happy. Trying to make something happen with someone who makes you anything less than happy is a waste of precious precious time. I'm still coming to terms with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, in other &lt;s&gt;totally random useless&lt;/s&gt; news: mother thinks that I've turned into a complete fighter cock. I say "Yeh zaalim duniya ko dosh do, mujhe nahi!". Yes, even I've noticed the change. I just have to scream at the random people I meet while I'm travelling. Well but hey &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;are&lt;/span&gt; annoying okay! Auto drivers who drive slow, aunties who take up 2 whole seats in the train, aunties who don't know where to place their big bum, uncles who sway their hands while walking, people who throw things out of the window, people who cough without covering their mouth among others, a lot others!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know some of them might be innocent and sometimes I do try and be kind to them but most of the times I'm too toasted to think about them. Majority of the auto drivers and cabbies suck. Period. So what to do?&lt;br /&gt;Tell MEEEEEEE! (That's me screaming at you btw)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Niggardly, quixotic, jingoism, peregrinations, paraphernalia.&lt;br /&gt;Do you know what these words mean? &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;You do? Okay bye.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does CAT do this to you? Why does it make English seem alien to you? Whyyyyyyyyyyyy? *makes a constipated face and runs away crying*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-6206587002681694945?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/6206587002681694945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=6206587002681694945' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6206587002681694945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6206587002681694945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2011/03/titles-are-bitch-no.html' title='Titles are a bitch. No?'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-174276873651130963</id><published>2011-03-22T22:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-22T23:03:50.062-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What uppp!</title><content type='html'>Oh my fucking god! I'm writing again :O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay no, I'm not. I'm going to act all cool and say - What's up yo \m/&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone even remember me? :(&lt;br /&gt;I landed up here and realized how dirty this place had become. My template vanished and those ugly photobucket images were all over the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo, I'll be back soon! :)&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I'm THAT rockstar who's going to be performing after 10 years of staying in rehab. So, give him all the love, will you? Haha ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chummis to all :*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-174276873651130963?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/174276873651130963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=174276873651130963' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/174276873651130963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/174276873651130963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2011/03/what-uppp.html' title='What uppp!'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-3884219813674741806</id><published>2010-08-08T03:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-08T03:42:57.233-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gal mitthi mitthi bol</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;‘Aa soni tennu chand ki main churi pehnaoon&lt;br /&gt;tu kar de ishara te mein doli lay aaon’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall make sure this song is played at my wedding.&lt;br /&gt;Over and over again :)&lt;br /&gt;And also the dulha, he should be as delicious as Abhay Deol&lt;br /&gt;Ah, what lovely dreams.&lt;br /&gt;Too much day-dreaming is happening these days. Smiling to myself and all that. And I’m not even in love :O&lt;br /&gt;Aunties in the train think I’ve gone mad with all the smiling I do, haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is doooooor ki baat, not even ONE eye candy around. Hurts okay :(&lt;br /&gt;In an all girls college, when you’re bored of listening to the teacher go on about preferential shares and equity shares, all you want to do is look around and catch some *good* eye candy to stare at but no, when you look around ..all you get to see is twenty more girls who just like you are wishing they were somewhere else! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know, I don’t feel like writing here anymore. My blog and I need a break from each other. We’ve had too much fun together and now we need some time off. I’m leaving just to return and to have the heart to write..like I used to :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For all you know, I’ll be back tomorrow itself. So ya :P&lt;br /&gt;But as of now, all I know is that it’s &lt;strong&gt;not&lt;/strong&gt; the same anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you, poochampoos!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-3884219813674741806?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/3884219813674741806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=3884219813674741806' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/3884219813674741806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/3884219813674741806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/08/gal-mitthi-mitthi-bol.html' title='Gal mitthi mitthi bol'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-7299243823034323300</id><published>2010-07-28T10:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-28T10:58:24.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Of quotes.</title><content type='html'>"...That is why it is so important to let certain things go. To release them. To cut loose. People need to understand that no one is playing with marked cards; sometimes we win and sometimes we lose. Don't expect to get anything back, don’t expect recognition for your efforts, don't expect your genius to be discovered or your love to be understood. Complete the circle. Not out of pride, inability or arrogance, but simply because whatever it is no longer fits in your life. Close the door, change the record, clean the house, get rid of the dust. Stop being who you were and become who you are..."&lt;br /&gt;-Paulo Coelho&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes you wish you remained in the shadow. It’s like someone out there opened herself/himself completely to you and you don’t like what you see. And then things become different. You just withdraw yourself, become distant. Those are the times when you wonder WHY you even got to know that person so deep. If only you knew that you would be in for a big big shock..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-7299243823034323300?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/7299243823034323300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=7299243823034323300' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/7299243823034323300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/7299243823034323300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/07/of-quotes.html' title='Of quotes.'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-8023328665206066900</id><published>2010-07-22T18:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-23T04:49:50.933-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stop and stare.</title><content type='html'>I want to write something.&lt;br /&gt;Anything.&lt;br /&gt;And so I shall.&lt;br /&gt;Write anything.&lt;br /&gt;I always write 'anything'&lt;br /&gt;But today I'll really write &lt;strong&gt;anything&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;See? You see where this is going?&lt;br /&gt;This is so meaningless.&lt;br /&gt;Why am I even continuing?&lt;br /&gt;But you're still reading. So good.&lt;br /&gt;It's raining heavily outside. Bike ride. I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was a total waste. Stuck in traffic for 2 hours. Bum aching. By the time I reached home, I was drenched. Muddy feet. Hair wet (:O). But I was absolutely fine. No throwing my moods around, whatsoever.&lt;br /&gt;Some progress? :)&lt;br /&gt;Hell yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's so much happening, in and around but I dont seem to be able to write it out. Writer's block?&lt;br /&gt;Again?&lt;br /&gt;How nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17 days since I last posted.&lt;br /&gt;Missed me?&lt;br /&gt;I missed you, you ..you and you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm staring down myself, counting up the years&lt;br /&gt;Steady hands, just take the wheel...&lt;br /&gt;And every glance is killing me&lt;br /&gt;Time to make one last appeal... for the life I lead&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop and stare&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm moving but I go nowhere&lt;br /&gt;Yeah I know that everyone gets scared&lt;br /&gt;But I've become what I can't be, oh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days are going good :)&lt;br /&gt;And I'm just watching them go by.&lt;br /&gt;It's like my insides are screaming out to someone out there who's job is to throw shit at me ..they're like try and move me baby, this feeling's not going anywhere ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love happened.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-8023328665206066900?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/8023328665206066900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=8023328665206066900' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/8023328665206066900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/8023328665206066900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-want-to-write-something.html' title='Stop and stare.'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-6709957910023448562</id><published>2010-07-06T04:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T04:13:09.601-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogger and its fuck ups -_-</title><content type='html'>What the hell! &lt;br /&gt;The comments on the previous post arent showing! &lt;br /&gt;I'm just getting email notifications!&lt;br /&gt;Fuck you bloggerrrr, I could keeel you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-6709957910023448562?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/6709957910023448562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=6709957910023448562' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6709957910023448562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6709957910023448562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/07/blogger-and-its-fuck-ups.html' title='Blogger and its fuck ups -_-'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-5637075624641688596</id><published>2010-07-05T13:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-05T14:20:12.268-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just when I thought our chance had passed, you go and save the best for last</title><content type='html'>I fell out of &lt;em&gt;it&lt;/em&gt; (whatever that was)&lt;br /&gt;My case is different. &lt;br /&gt;Unlike normal cases, I'm jumping with joy after coming in terms with my newest *realisation* :)&lt;br /&gt;Ahh, I feel so free ..I could fly. I don't even need wings :O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay so as I said, My case is different. Erase it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, picture a couple deeply in love. Love okay, love. &lt;br /&gt;They're in love with each other for years together and then they get married and blah. &lt;br /&gt;And slowly and gradually after all those years of togetherness, they start falling out of love. They don't feel the same about each other anymore. Staying together becomes a duty for them. They're together only for the others around them. Not for each other. It's all a pretence. If given a chance, they would have freed themselves long back but something or the other always comes in the way. And there, a life of compromise awaits them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a tragic situation!&lt;br /&gt; This happens. This totally happens. I've seen such couples. &lt;br /&gt;Couples who were so i-love-you-i-cant-live-without-you types, bubbling with strong, intense feelings for each other and then after years those very feelings are reduced to something so insignificant. Life is so unredictable. Forget about your partner falling out love, tomorrow you yourself might not be able to relate to him/her the way you used to for whatever the reasons may be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scary? Hell yeah&lt;br /&gt;But this optimistic part of me rises from somewhere inside and tells me that not all cases turn out to be as sour. You have to keep the love alive and it is an effortless thing when the right one comes along. &lt;br /&gt;I completely believe in *soulmates*. Call me someone who lives in a world of butterflies and rainbows, Idontcare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People change. Situations change. Boredom. Work Pressure. And so many others I can't think of right now.&lt;br /&gt;To battle your way through all that, together ..still madly in love with each other ..is like wow! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you even fall out of love ..let it free. Don't cling on to a relationship or a person. Accept the fact that things arent the same anymore and let go. You'll be glad you did so!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;'In a single moment you might be perfect&lt;br /&gt;And sit In a window of my life&lt;br /&gt;But how much how much more will I get to see?&lt;br /&gt;What would i strive to hide&lt;br /&gt;Now there will be no compromise&lt;br /&gt;So take it in your stride&lt;br /&gt;I will leave you now with a smile'&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Lovesong by Amiel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 2:40! What am i doing posting stuff about love and all that!&lt;br /&gt;Goooodnight&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-5637075624641688596?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/5637075624641688596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=5637075624641688596' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/5637075624641688596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/5637075624641688596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/07/just-when-i-thought-our-chance-had.html' title='Just when I thought our chance had passed, you go and save the best for last'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-5075820155345072155</id><published>2010-06-29T10:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T10:55:54.443-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Put your own title. I'm too bored.</title><content type='html'>One second, I’m all so excited about the future and the next second, I’m petrified. Well, this is the petrified phase going on now and oh.my.god, I’m so scared I could pee in my pants. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone has such grand plans. And what am I doing? I’m living someone else’s plan. Nooo. I don’t want to. I want my own sweet plan. The plan I could think about every night and work towards making it work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why can’t I just be walking on the street when some beeeg director could spot me and cast me opposite Ranbir Kapoor in some movie? Of course, makeovers and all will happen also :P&lt;br /&gt;And the money..and Ranbir! :O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But no!&lt;br /&gt;Only anorexic females who hardly know how to speak properly like Kangna Ranaut are allowed this. &lt;br /&gt;Uff. Can you &lt;strong&gt;feel&lt;/strong&gt; the tension?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You up there ..must be laughing there with a bucket of popcorn in your hand. &lt;br /&gt;Your daily source of entertainment, aren’t I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: I really like Kangna btw. But this mood is such. It makes me write mean things about people.&lt;br /&gt;And no, I certainly don’t want to become an actress. It was never a part of any of my plans (okay once when I was small but I grew over it pretty soon)&lt;br /&gt;It's just Ranbir, you know :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And tell me! Who invented the word ‘re’?&lt;br /&gt;Highly annoying. Makes me want to scream.&lt;br /&gt;Yes re, No re, Why re, What re, Come re, Eat re, Nothing re. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WTF. STOP IT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am illiterate when it comes to football and this is the toughest time of the year, for people like me. &lt;br /&gt;I hate it when all people can talk about now is ..FOOTBALL and I have &lt;strong&gt;nothing&lt;/strong&gt; to offer! Except for of course ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When does this bloody thing come to an end?&lt;br /&gt;How do people WATCH sports? Don’t they get bored?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too much randomness in one post. Not good. &lt;br /&gt;And then tomorrow, I’ll suffer from a writer’s block.&lt;br /&gt;Tsk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bye bye bye!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-5075820155345072155?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/5075820155345072155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=5075820155345072155' title='24 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/5075820155345072155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/5075820155345072155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/06/put-your-own-title-im-too-bored.html' title='Put your own title. I&apos;m too bored.'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>24</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-6330961431223787970</id><published>2010-06-24T08:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T08:42:37.065-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Look, Look inside your tiny mind ..</title><content type='html'>Stop. Think.&lt;br /&gt;Do you know yourself? &lt;br /&gt;Do you know why you follow/believe certain things? &lt;br /&gt;Do you have any preconceived notions? If yes, then on what basis? &lt;br /&gt;Now, just be honest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you dont know, then I’m sorry you’re being plain stupid. Because you obviously live in the stone age and don’t find it necessary to question yourself from time to time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do people live like that, I wonder? One thing’s for sure, it’s damn easy to live that way. But easy or not easy is not the question. It’s whether one is satisfied living such a life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People are like that because they get too comfortable living a certain way. Everything’s fixed in their life ..The stubborn and inflexible people they are. But guess what, reality check: isn’t it time, to come out of your comfort 'La-La Land' zone and focus on growing as a person?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve met way too many people like this. When you ask them why they’re behaving in a certain manner..the best they can come up with is “That’s just the way I am” (Oh, how convincing!) or they’ll try and justify themselves with explanations which don’t include anything concrete. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no issues when people choose to live however they want to and even when I question them ..I don’t mean to impose my thoughts on them. I’m just this curious bunny who’s just asking a simple question – WHY? WHY? WHY? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You come up with something good, I’ll leave you. &lt;br /&gt;I promise :P &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay I read the whole thing and it makes me look like some stuck-up, conceited bitch who thinks herself to be oh-so-perfect! No, I don’t think myself to be even close to perfect but I surely don’t fall in the above category because I am always open to questions and I know if there’s something worth changing in me, I will give it a serious thought. It’s not such a humongous task, really. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In random news: I gave myself fringes and felt all creative today. &lt;br /&gt;EEEEEEEEEEE :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-6330961431223787970?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/6330961431223787970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=6330961431223787970' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6330961431223787970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6330961431223787970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/06/look-look-inside-your-tiny-mind.html' title='Look, Look inside your tiny mind ..'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-7488955938149879404</id><published>2010-06-14T07:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-14T07:20:39.022-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate New. I miss Old :'(</title><content type='html'>Getting &lt;em&gt;used&lt;/em&gt; to people is sick. Getting &lt;em&gt;used&lt;/em&gt; to anything is sick.&lt;br /&gt;And that happens to be my hobby by the way.&lt;br /&gt;Just when I get so comfortable in my own small little bubble, someone comes and bursts it and *pop* it goes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a thin line between getting &lt;em&gt;used&lt;/em&gt; to someone and genuinely *liking* the person. And as of now, I seem to have lost that line. So, I'm trying to figure things out but fuck, I don't know what I want!&lt;br /&gt;I DON'T KNOW WHAT I WANT!&lt;br /&gt;Do you know HOW much that sucks?&lt;br /&gt;So much shit happens in my head?&lt;br /&gt;No, you don't. No one does.&lt;br /&gt;So, the best you can do is stop lecturing me.&lt;br /&gt;Thankyouverymuch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was watching some kids playing in the rain today.&lt;br /&gt;And then I tried to remember the last time I played in the rain like that. &lt;br /&gt;I realised, from the time I’ve turned into this obsessed-with-my-hair maniac, forget playing..I haven’t even walked properly in the rain minus any worries! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck.this.shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s raining and to hell with everything else! I’m going to go there and break into a dance! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love twirling umbrellas btw. &lt;br /&gt;I also do stunts. Umbrella stunts. &lt;br /&gt;And then the umbrella gets all weird and refuses to protect me from the rain.&lt;br /&gt;Okay bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;103 is starting to prick me now haa!&lt;br /&gt;I know this is cheap promotion but it is all about loving your blog, riiiight? ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-7488955938149879404?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/7488955938149879404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=7488955938149879404' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/7488955938149879404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/7488955938149879404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-hate-new-i-miss-old.html' title='I hate New. I miss Old :&apos;('/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-2427316255836435318</id><published>2010-06-01T05:02:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T05:08:07.699-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hope-less.</title><content type='html'>I want to turn into this cold, indifferent ..uncaring creature.&lt;br /&gt;Like you know, have this protective bubble around you types.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If not that ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then maybe, turning into a complete alcoholic will also do.&lt;br /&gt;So that I can cry, shout, howl, whine ..whenever, wherever.&lt;br /&gt;Like some ignorant fool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If not that ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then let me just sleep through this phase&lt;br /&gt;And act like I’m going die tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why this fuss?&lt;br /&gt;Idontknow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;hate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; feeling helpless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t control. I can’t change.&lt;br /&gt;Because the strings are not in my hands. They never were.&lt;br /&gt;And I’m tired of waiting for &lt;em&gt;something &lt;/em&gt;to happen/change&lt;br /&gt;So what am I expected to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;..and then when you press shuffle on your iPod and when&lt;br /&gt;‘Work it, make it, do it, makes us&lt;br /&gt;Harder, better, faster, stronger ..’ starts off randomly ..&lt;br /&gt;You know someone up there wants you to cheer up too. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-2427316255836435318?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/2427316255836435318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=2427316255836435318' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/2427316255836435318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/2427316255836435318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/06/hope-less_01.html' title='Hope-less.'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-445541663208025863</id><published>2010-05-27T10:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-27T11:11:59.414-07:00</updated><title type='text'>If I could, I would travel the world in shorts.</title><content type='html'>Make that purple shorts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summer and I don’t really gel well.&lt;br /&gt;Summer hates me and I can’t stand summer!&lt;br /&gt;If I could murder it, I would have done that long back. And the heat really affects my mood. I go mad, like berserk. Start snapping at people like a maniac and all that.&lt;br /&gt;It’s 49.4 degrees in Jaipur. Omg!&lt;br /&gt;What is wrong with the world!&lt;br /&gt;I rather get dragged by camels there than bear the heat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oooh by the way, I’ve started meditating. Not proper meditating but it’s more like just sitting in silence for a while and having a completely blank mind. It’s quite a task for someone like me who always has something or the other going on inside. &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Does your mind hum? Mine does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;In those few minutes, I don’t give a shit to anything else. They can all wait.&lt;br /&gt;With so much happening these days, I thought my poor lil’ head deserved a break. I know I’m sounding like this 50 year old right now but what to do yah!&lt;br /&gt;Am I turning into some sadhu?&lt;br /&gt;Not the ones in orange robes who go wandering off into the forests of course.&lt;br /&gt;More like the ones who are allowed chicken.&lt;br /&gt;And sex.&lt;br /&gt;Aha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zach Braff is so adorable in Scrubs.&lt;br /&gt;I want to adopt him :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and curly hair, I hate you.&lt;br /&gt;Shooo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-445541663208025863?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/445541663208025863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=445541663208025863' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/445541663208025863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/445541663208025863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/05/if-i-could-i-would-travel-world-in.html' title='If I could, I would travel the world in shorts.'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-7898765880755036925</id><published>2010-05-24T09:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T10:00:25.184-07:00</updated><title type='text'>:D</title><content type='html'>We're 100 now :O&lt;br /&gt;Ohmygod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yela yela yela!&lt;br /&gt;A beeeeeeg hug to all of you out there!&lt;br /&gt;Thank you , Ladooooos :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-7898765880755036925?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/7898765880755036925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=7898765880755036925' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/7898765880755036925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/7898765880755036925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/05/d.html' title=':D'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-6881806761954046360</id><published>2010-05-11T01:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T02:39:21.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Get serious already!</title><content type='html'>I always knew I was defocused. I have always been continuously reminded to get &lt;strong&gt;serious&lt;/strong&gt; and to &lt;strong&gt;not&lt;/strong&gt; lose focus. Focus. I hate that word. I just seem to get bored easily, my fault?&lt;br /&gt;Okay fine, my fault and I’m going to change that this time.&lt;br /&gt;I’m in awe of people who are so hardworking. You know, like those who are so sure of what they want and have the balls to stick to it no matter what and are ready to get rid of &lt;strong&gt;anything&lt;/strong&gt; that stops them from reaching their goal. So fucking determined. OMG. How do they do that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19 years and I still don’t know how it is to work HARD.. with all your heart and soul. Sounds dreadful. I’ve just been awfully lucky till now but I don’t think I should rely on that for long. &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;And no, I’m not complaining either. You can keep me lucky for life. Really &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Okay so that is it.&lt;br /&gt;11th May 2010 resolution: I have to, just have to work my butt off, remain focussed, stop taking things lightly and get down to some serious business. I don’t want to give anyone, even myself, a chance to lecture me later on how I wasted these oh-so-precious years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though I hate the thought of CAT and all those horrible MBA entrance exams, I need to give them a fair chance. I really want to get all omg-i-love-mba and oh-i'm-so-kicked-about-the-entrances! Can't believe I'm saying this but yeah. I &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;think&lt;/span&gt; I know what I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;I shouldnt have told some people about this blog. There are things I wish to scream out but I'm unable to post them here. What the fuck. I can be so silly at times, I tell you -_-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Block some readers? How? Anyone? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'When I get older, I will be stronger,&lt;br /&gt;They'll call me freedom, just like a Waving Flag'&lt;br /&gt;Sexy song.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-6881806761954046360?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/6881806761954046360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=6881806761954046360' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6881806761954046360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6881806761954046360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/05/get-serious-already.html' title='Get serious already!'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-4936855835569844536</id><published>2010-05-06T03:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-06T03:32:43.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Picture Post!</title><content type='html'>It has been AGES since I last wrote and as I don't have much time now, I'm going to quickly post these two pictures I loveddd :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1997 ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S-KZnGg5UFI/AAAAAAAAAI8/K7V-_KrHkUA/s1600/Photo0189.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S-KZnGg5UFI/AAAAAAAAAI8/K7V-_KrHkUA/s200/Photo0189.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468101794623737938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2010 ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S-KZ1IO0LqI/AAAAAAAAAJE/PlxewBqQM8Y/s1600/Photo0215000.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S-KZ1IO0LqI/AAAAAAAAAJE/PlxewBqQM8Y/s200/Photo0215000.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468102035602943650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best-&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;est&lt;/span&gt; cousins :)&lt;br /&gt;The sisters I never had!&lt;br /&gt;Love yeww guys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh btw, the one in black and white eej meee :)&lt;br /&gt;Ciao&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-4936855835569844536?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/4936855835569844536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=4936855835569844536' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/4936855835569844536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/4936855835569844536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/05/picture-post.html' title='Picture Post!'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S-KZnGg5UFI/AAAAAAAAAI8/K7V-_KrHkUA/s72-c/Photo0189.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-7571757782903355584</id><published>2010-04-19T11:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-19T12:24:24.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a quarter after one, I'm a lil' drunk ..and I need you now ..</title><content type='html'>Baap of Random okay. Ready? Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(On phone)&lt;br /&gt;Me: Achaa, when is N's birthday?&lt;br /&gt;She: May 5th, I guess. Ya, May 5th.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Shit. Okay. I'll call you in a second&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*keeps the phone down and calls N*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;N: Hiii&lt;br /&gt;Me: Hi! I am so so sorry! I absolutely forgot! I dont even remember what I was doing on May 5th! Sorrryy! Belated happy birthday anyway! How was it?&lt;br /&gt;N: Ummm S, it's only April. Hahahahhahahaha!&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh. Yaaaa! No wonder. Sorry. No wait. Why? Shit. I'm such a doufus :S&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me eeej becoming old. Brittle bones, loss of memory, poor vision and all that.&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe some 'vacation sickness' where you totally lose track of date! Doing nothing &lt;strong&gt;substantial&lt;/strong&gt;. I feel like a lazy bummm.&lt;br /&gt;April. Yes, I shall remember. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My cousin was asked how much gold costs in some MBA interview.&lt;br /&gt;What? Why? What makes them think &lt;strong&gt;we&lt;/strong&gt; care?&lt;br /&gt;Plus, I hate gold. Silver's much better :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;'..I can't remember the last time we kissed. 'Cause you never think the last time is the last time, you think there'll be more..'&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't ask me why I posted the above quote? :P&lt;br /&gt;Aaii.Hawe.No.Clue.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-7571757782903355584?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/7571757782903355584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=7571757782903355584' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/7571757782903355584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/7571757782903355584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/04/its-quarter-after-one-im-lil-drunk-and.html' title='It&apos;s a quarter after one, I&apos;m a lil&apos; drunk ..and I need you now ..'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-3399544332916316877</id><published>2010-04-14T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T10:38:48.433-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love it is.</title><content type='html'>I think I'm in love. Shashi Tharoor. Shashi Tharoor. Shashi Tharoor. That man is all over the place. He is &lt;strong&gt;SO&lt;/strong&gt; incredibly good looking :O&lt;br /&gt;He's 54 but oh-my-god just look at him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talking about love.. I wanted to share this with all of you. This was written by Darshan Chande, a fellow blogger.. while we were discussing about ‘love’. Long read but some GOOD stuff, trust me :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#86 Strength to accept the reality only comes through awareness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#89 Love is a magic in itself. This magic has nothing to do with the object of love. When you become obsessed with the object, love is no more love but a disease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read the first thought I quoted above. The awareness here would be the awareness about LOVE. Love is such a profound thing that for centuries people have been trying to understand it and there are hundreds of theories explaining it. But still it's topping the list of psychological pains the mankind suffers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now read the second thought I have quoted above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love simply is liking beyond limit. When you don't just like something, but like it "very much", you say you "love" it. Love is heightened state of liking. Nothing else. In case of interpersonal love, there are numerous reasons why you may feel love for someone. Note that there's no difference between "love" and "attraction". Few of the reasons for being attracted to someone are beauty, nature, body language, intelligence, sexual pleasure etc. Because of these or any of the countless other reasons you may develop intense liking for some person. Nothing is wrong about it. Liking something is a pleasure. Like watching a flower is a pleasure. Or facing cool breeze on a mountain-top is a pleasurable experience. Love, too, is a pleasurable experience. Very natural characteristics of love are feelings of compassion and care for the person. That naturally comes because, of course, you would not like offending and thereby risk losing someone who gives you that pleasurable experience. It's like when you hold a delicate flower how it naturally occurs to you to hold it with care. That's because of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's love. Love is a pleasurable experience of being in admiration of something or someone. The important thing to understand here is that it's those abstract things (beauty, nature, body language, intelligence, sexual pleasure etc) which are giving you this experience, and the object in concern (the person) is just a medium. You very well know that in life you can fall in love more than once. This very well proves that it's not the object but the abstract qualities carried by the object which inspire love. It's a fallacy of human mind, or rather a weakness, that every time one is in love with someone one believes that this person is the best one could have and that this love is "meant to be" and things like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I say "love is a magic in itself, and this magic has nothing to do with the object of love", what I mean is that all the (magical) pleasure you derive out of love is in the act of loving itself. You love a flower because of its beauty and fragrance. They are not the object (which is the flower) but the abstract things carried by the object. So, you say you love the flower. Then I have said "when you become obsessed with the object, love is no more love but a disease." You love the flower. You become obsessed with it. But flower is a mortal thing. Prone to change. After a couple of days it's ugly. Now you grieve over it. No. Don't. Look there in the garden outside there are thousands of flowers spreading their beauty and fragrance. Once you see it you will again fall in love with some other flower. Because it was not the flower but the beauty of it which was captivating. It's the beauty which is eternal and everlasting and not the object.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An aware person would know this fact. Understand why you love. Identify the abstract things because of which your love is. And know that the object is just a medium. Don't be obsessed with the object, because it will not remain. Just like the flower does not remain. If you cling to the object there will be pain. Hence I call this sort of love, obsessive love, a disease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing wrong if the flower remains for life. But the awareness of the essence of love is necessary. Almost 99 percent of the people are ignorant. They get committed to the person they love. Then gradually as the flower goes no-more-fragrant the person loses those qualities, but still they cling to each other, only because they have lost the strength to be one their own again. Love is impossible in such a case. Then the only resort to keep from going mad is creating illusions. People then form illusions that love still is. But such love of illusion is not beautiful. Certainly not. Is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's one more thought I had penned a few days back -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#66 'I like this person beyond limit.' This is love. 'I want us to be committed.' This is absurdity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy every aspect of the relationship AS IS. Be in love with love, and be grateful to the object for giving you the opportunity to experience love. If the object remains, good. If not, love still is, all around you. No one can take it. What are you afraid to lose?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His blog:&lt;a href="http://www.darshanchande.com/"&gt;http://www.darshanchande.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worth a look!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-3399544332916316877?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/3399544332916316877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=3399544332916316877' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/3399544332916316877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/3399544332916316877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/04/love-it-is.html' title='Love it is.'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-5186201541927945946</id><published>2010-04-09T12:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-09T22:38:17.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random realisations ..</title><content type='html'>Be Selfish. Be very selfish. Not self-centered. &lt;br /&gt;There have been times when I've been happy or very happy but never &lt;strong&gt;content&lt;/strong&gt;. Now, it's time to move a step forward. &lt;br /&gt;Don't give free ka gyaan. Some people just don't deserve it. &lt;br /&gt;Regretting is a horrible feeling and when it's related to someone who no longer exists, it becomes 10 times worse.&lt;br /&gt;Imagining to be partying in Alaska when it's actually freaking hot, helps. No really, it does. &lt;br /&gt;All the stuff about loving selflessly is bullshit. They make it look like it takes effort. Infact, it's just the opposite. When you're in love, you do stuff because you want to do them ..because it makes YOU happy more than anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;I can never ever write a poem in my life. Never :P&lt;br /&gt;When the grass looks greener on the other side of the fence, it may be that they take better care of it there - Cecil Selig&lt;br /&gt;Being ignorant might help you for sometime but there will come a time when it'll hit you hard in your face. Ignorance is not always bliss.&lt;br /&gt;You don't have to practice 'self control' if you just tell yourself that you don't need someone/something to survive. &lt;br /&gt;Forgiving is tough. Forgive but never forget. &lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, we may want something very badly but might not end up getting it but it's certainly worse for those who arent even aware of what they want. &lt;br /&gt;Thinking about how a relationship or anything rather, will end is the worst way to start it.&lt;br /&gt;Sania Mirza will have A LOT to tell her kids!&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, tacky songs are all you need to lift your mood up. Haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cya Baabloos.&lt;br /&gt;Baabloos sounds disgusting, I know. But there’s this Bengali aunty nearby who can’t stop baabloo-ing kids. So, that’s where baabloo comes from :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-5186201541927945946?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/5186201541927945946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=5186201541927945946' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/5186201541927945946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/5186201541927945946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/04/random-realisations.html' title='Random realisations ..'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-6317417915042897533</id><published>2010-04-02T12:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-02T13:15:48.892-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I lowe my rubbish</title><content type='html'>Oh so while talking to a friend today about getting filthy rich and all that, I randomly made some mental notes to myself which I wish to share because I’m not able to sleep and it’s my blog which allows me to jot down any irrelevant *shit* here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so I’m going to marry a struggling actor whose struggling days will end some years after we get married. You’ll say what if he remains a struggling actor all his life and I’ll say he won’t because I’ll inspire him to just get better!&lt;br /&gt;And then after that we’ll have our own Mannat in some sexy beach. &lt;br /&gt;Voila! I’m so settled!&lt;br /&gt;And why a struggling actor? I don’t know. Just struggling okay, so that he can’t look beyond me because he’ll be so struggling-struggling at that time. Get it? &lt;br /&gt;And yes, we’ll have a pet so that my kids would treat the pet like their child which would improve their motherly/fatherly skills so that they turn out to be good parents later in life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was my life full of rainbows and butterflies. I know. &lt;br /&gt;And who says I don’t plan ha! :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;British guys are H.A.W.T&lt;br /&gt;Omg! I just love their ‘mow-biles’ and ‘faawthuh’ and ‘styoupid’ and what not! So Hugh Grant-isshh :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Papa, I blog. &lt;br /&gt;Papa: Oh, what do you blog about?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Like general stuff you know ..&lt;br /&gt;..and thank god he was too busy to ask me WHAT I actually blog about because he seriously would not want to know :|&lt;br /&gt;Even I don't know what I blog about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I blog about? Hmm. &lt;br /&gt;(It’s just a rhetorical question. Do not come up with vague, embarrassing answers. Thank you) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read what I just wrote and yes, my dad should never reach my blog!&lt;br /&gt;Bye bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-6317417915042897533?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/6317417915042897533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=6317417915042897533' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6317417915042897533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6317417915042897533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-lowe-my-rubbish.html' title='I lowe my rubbish'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-2186422479400094572</id><published>2010-03-29T23:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T00:04:59.903-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't believe you're gone ..</title><content type='html'>Death is not losing a loved one, but gaining an angel..&lt;br /&gt;To the fighter you were, Yash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were a true fighter, battling your way through life with that smile on your face,&lt;br /&gt;Always wanting to spread joy wherever you went.&lt;br /&gt;You’ll always be etched in our memories. &lt;br /&gt;We miss you, already.&lt;br /&gt;_________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost my friend to cancer yesterday evening. Since then I’ve just been too filled with questions. I know my take on life at this point of time would come across as something very cynical but that’s exactly what I’m feeling now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is nothing but a bloody struggle. All everyone does all their lives is run. You’re running behind something or the other. And what are we running so hopelessly behind? Money! There’s no time to wait and have fun. No, life’s certainly not a party! &lt;br /&gt;The first half of your life is spent studying. One exam gets over, it leads to the other. And then you look for jobs. Some get it, some don’t. If job’s not an issue, marriage is. Your marriage is on the rocks or you're just too busy showing you're happy when you're not. And then you have a kid. The kid has his own set of problems. If nothing else, someone is detected with some horrible disease or some unexpected incident occurs which just turns your life upside down. What the fuck. What’s the point of all this! Everybody dies at the end. Period. &lt;br /&gt;What made living so tough? So tiring?&lt;br /&gt;I mean, every single thing seems so meaningless now. I can jump out of the window right this second and it really wouldn’t matter to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know what you’re thinking and I also know that you have a lot to say but I know all of that. I do. I always thought one’s purpose in life is to grow and staying content is the most important thing. And that the way we perceive the things life throws at us, matters a hell lot. Yes, I know that but now &lt;strong&gt;nothing&lt;/strong&gt; makes sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish to bounce back soon. &lt;br /&gt;And sorry for the super gloomy post.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-2186422479400094572?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/2186422479400094572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=2186422479400094572' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/2186422479400094572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/2186422479400094572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/03/cant-believe-youre-gone.html' title='Can&apos;t believe you&apos;re gone ..'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-826547763000051821</id><published>2010-03-25T09:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T09:41:03.115-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I want a pet.</title><content type='html'>Osho,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you’re up there and I know you’re reading this. You know what, I always thought you to be really sensible and I absolutely adore your views about stuff. You have such a unique way of looking at things! People around give me weird looks when they hear I read your books but I always stand up for you.&lt;br /&gt;Ya so, my friend who btw is the only Osho fan I’ve met in my vicinity, and I planned to visit your ashram one weekend but the fucking ticket costs a whooping Rs. 950! Not that I’m seeing you alive, honey! If you were sitting inside then 950 would be nothing but paying 950 just to walk on those lush green lawns and to see people meditating around is such a waste of precious precious money. You don’t want me dying of guilt with every step I take inside your ashram, do you? So, I am not going. You will not see me there and I am mighty miffed. And you’re smiling, sitting up there. You always do.&lt;br /&gt;And btw, how are the Osho chappals related to you? I don’t know how the whole world wears them. They fucking prick me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much Love,&lt;br /&gt;Me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those who don’t know who Osho is, no you don’t need to jump off the window. Just go Google if you care. I know you don’t. Who does. Ha! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: Ranting about making life simple is so easy but when it comes to your own case, you don’t leave a chance to screw it up. Right? Don’t say you disagree because I’m sure all of us at one point or the other have screwed things up on our own for ourselves. It’s okay, we’re human. Shit happens. Problem is, for how long?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ya I know the title didnt have any connection with what I wrote but what the hell, I do want a pet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-826547763000051821?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/826547763000051821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=826547763000051821' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/826547763000051821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/826547763000051821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-want-pet.html' title='I want a pet.'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-5297632077050387380</id><published>2010-03-21T01:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T01:37:32.942-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sex, Dhoka and a beeeet of Love ;)</title><content type='html'>These are just random lines concerning relationships today, I heard from my friends or about friends of friends, etc&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Me and him ..we like have a thing yaa. You know?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“We’re not fuck buddies. We’re just ..umm ..like ..well ..friends with ..friends who ..ya okay ..fuck buddies. But doesn’t that sound too blunt?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He was too nice and mushy so I broke up with him.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He: Our relationship doomed. We’re just not meant to be together. Limiting it to 'just flings' should be fine. What say?&lt;br /&gt;She: But I still love you!&lt;br /&gt;He: Okay, then let it be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I’m going to have all the fun now and when the ‘right’ time comes, I’m going to marry the girl my parents choose for me”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She: Oh, you guys are back? I thought she cheated on you?&lt;br /&gt;He: Yeah, but its fine now.&lt;br /&gt;She: Nice. Mr. Forgiving huh&lt;br /&gt;He: I was bored dude&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He: You used me.&lt;br /&gt;She: It was a fling. We were supposed to use each other. Remember?&lt;br /&gt;He: But I didn’t use-use you&lt;br /&gt;She: Oh but you know what, I used-used you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“She rejected me. I’m going to start going to the gym. I’ll show her what she missed”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He was too muscular. It scared me. So I said no.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She1: I miss him. I hate this moving on phase. It’s takes so much time&lt;br /&gt;She2: Ya I know, memories and all that&lt;br /&gt;She1: Ya ..stuff like he picking me up and dropping me to college and helping me with Math ..and ..&lt;br /&gt;She2: Ya. That too :\&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She: Don’t cheat on her. She might just do emotional attyachar on you!&lt;br /&gt;He: Hahahha! No. She’s camera shy!&lt;br /&gt;She: whihdiklewfwpejkldfcwepjdkl;cwe9dpo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He: Okay, she called. I’m going. Her house is free.&lt;br /&gt;She: Oye, there’s something called ‘mood’&lt;br /&gt;He: Fuck mood. We hardly ever get a proper place!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He was so perfect ..I can’t move on!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He: It’s love. I love her so much. She’s the one I’ll marry! I just know it&lt;br /&gt;She: But it’s hardly been a week!&lt;br /&gt;He: So?&lt;br /&gt;She: Okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Our lifestyles didn’t match. He would go partying every night and I would sit at home waiting for him to call or message!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I don’t care if we have a future or not. I just want him for NOW”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it just me or were relationships way simpler before?&lt;br /&gt;And then parents say “What problems do you have ha!”&lt;br /&gt;Riiight. Sure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-5297632077050387380?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/5297632077050387380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=5297632077050387380' title='38 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/5297632077050387380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/5297632077050387380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/03/love-sex-aur-dhoka-darlingg.html' title='Sex, Dhoka and a beeeet of Love ;)'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>38</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-564610723300933099</id><published>2010-03-17T10:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T11:06:58.858-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm so -_-</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;'I could die for you.&lt;br /&gt;But I couldn't, and wouldn't, live for you'&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That makes me want to chuck all my textbooks away and lay my hands on The Fountainhead asap. Everything else becomes so much more interesting during exams, noh. Plus your head's overflowing with all sorts of things and negative thoughts which just get tend to get glorified with every passing minute and you know you can't sort the mess out because you're supposed to do Maslow's self-actualisation theory and globalisation and privatisation and shit like that.&lt;br /&gt;Laaavly.&lt;br /&gt;And Oh did i say&lt;br /&gt;I'm&lt;br /&gt;loving&lt;br /&gt;my&lt;br /&gt;life&lt;br /&gt;at&lt;br /&gt;present.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-564610723300933099?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/564610723300933099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=564610723300933099' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/564610723300933099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/564610723300933099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-so.html' title='I&apos;m so -_-'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-1547243661452769058</id><published>2010-03-11T03:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T04:02:04.986-08:00</updated><title type='text'>With dreams like these, I rather not wake up ..</title><content type='html'>Some days back, I had this beautiful dream. It felt so damn real and that was the best part of it. The dream was something like I was giving a bath to this little girl who was maybe 3-4 yrs old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know sometimes, it just happens that you know who the other person is ..in your dream. So, yah this girl happened to be my daughter. And oh my god, even though it lasted for like 10 minutes or something I could totally feel what I had for her. It’s like my whole world revolved around her and I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of my life giving her a bath and just being around her and seeing her laugh and giggle. To top it all, she was so ME :)&lt;br /&gt;I could just sense it. I could sense the connection, the love, the affection I had for her. No dream of mine has EVER been so real. Except that of a bald, fat ass with moustache running behind me in some village which I used to get when I was tiny. Oh well, whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just feels wonderful to get a feel of that ‘unconditional love’ people talk about ..in my dreams, something that’s never happened to me till now but after this I exactly know how it feels(atleast I think I do). I just hope I’m fortunate enough to experience it in real life too :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: Remember the friend I wrote about ..who’s suffering from cancer. Doctors confirm that his condition is improving day by day and that he has started breathing on his own(he was on ventilator all these days).&lt;br /&gt;Miracles do happen.&lt;br /&gt;And I fucking love God for this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S5jbd-fNzUI/AAAAAAAAAHY/EZ6LllFJIjI/s1600-h/cho+chweet..!.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 147px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S5jbd-fNzUI/AAAAAAAAAHY/EZ6LllFJIjI/s200/cho+chweet..!.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447345057341230402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-1547243661452769058?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/1547243661452769058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=1547243661452769058' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/1547243661452769058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/1547243661452769058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/03/with-dreams-like-these-i-rather-not.html' title='With dreams like these, I rather not wake up ..'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S5jbd-fNzUI/AAAAAAAAAHY/EZ6LllFJIjI/s72-c/cho+chweet..!.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-6340183145859736066</id><published>2010-03-05T10:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-05T10:45:03.036-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Honest Scrap</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S5FOkWT5EpI/AAAAAAAAAHI/Pkw5trKDha0/s1600-h/honest-scrap.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445219810838909586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 194px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S5FOkWT5EpI/AAAAAAAAAHI/Pkw5trKDha0/s200/honest-scrap.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can go on about myself but lucky you, I've just been asked to post a few ..&lt;br /&gt;Ramit jii, thanks for the tag!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I really wish to trade my nose with somebody someday. But people like Koena Mitra really make me feel a lot better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I look like a lost pup when I cross the road. My friends tend to get scared because I look lost and clueless according to them. I know I walk like I rule the road but that doesn’t mean I’m oblivious to my surroundings. They say I’ll lose my life someday like this. Thing is, even I feel the same and I still do nothing about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I absolutely, madly, truly LOVE my mum. I can’t imagine life without her. I just wish I could be even half the mother/daughter/sister/wife she’s been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I desperately want to go to the Osho ashram once. If there was one person I could call back from the graves, it would be him.&lt;br /&gt;Go die if you think it’s funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I’ve tried drinking and smoking (once) and I hated them both. What am I!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I secretly wish I wasn’t that scared of dogs so that I could own one, one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I have this *thing* for my nails. I’m 19 and I still bite my nails. I know what you’re thinking but really, they’re tasty. My dad says my nails show how confident I am. Well, riiight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. I can’t understand why people find Scarlett Johansson and Angelina Jolie sexy. Scarlett’s just too bland and Angelina Jolie’s got HUGE lips. Not good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Insects freak me out. Even if I see a mosquito around, I start getting that itchy, funny feeling. But I find rats really cute. I find them extremely intelligent and quick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. In the last 2 years, I’ve done all..that just seeing other people do, made me make extreme judgements about them once upon a time. That explains why I feel it’s best to see the whole story first before making your own assumptions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ramit's like tagged half my blogroll so the rest of you, do it if you wish to or do it when you're struck with a terrible terrible writer's block.                                                                               &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: I was reading my friend’s psychology textbook today which spoke about ego, superego and id. It was so relatable. I couldn’t take my eyes off it.&lt;br /&gt;Fuck. What I am doing studying economics.&lt;br /&gt;Psycho deserves me more :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-6340183145859736066?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/6340183145859736066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=6340183145859736066' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6340183145859736066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6340183145859736066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/03/honest-scrap.html' title='Honest Scrap'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S5FOkWT5EpI/AAAAAAAAAHI/Pkw5trKDha0/s72-c/honest-scrap.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-127453559985268618</id><published>2010-02-25T09:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-25T09:30:28.193-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes, I still exist.</title><content type='html'>Okay, so these random questions keep popping In my head from all that’s happening in and around. So just solve them ..will you! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you do if you hear real nasty things about this friend of yours (A) from a common friend? Stuff you never imagined A could do. I know I keep talking about not being judgemental and all that but I know somewhere down the line, what she said about A did change my attitude towards him. It keeps coming back to me whenever I speak to him. And I feel so hypocritical. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I look around, why do I see so many people ‘practicing’ self-control but when I look at myself .. I see no sign of it? How important is self-control? Honestly, it doesn’t make sense to me. I feel you should do whatever makes you happy. Suppressing your emotions is just not right, I feel. But now, I’m scared if this ‘reckless’ behaviour of mine will put me in deep shit one day. At the same time I know whatever happens, happens for a GOOD reason so ..so be it. I’m just going to do what I feel like B-)&lt;br /&gt;And then, 40 years down the line when I’m all old and jobless, I shall write in this same blog of mine stating if my decision was a right one! I’m so curious. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;Till then, I think it’s worth the risk ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so I’m sure many of us, at one point or the other have found ourselves regretting not thinking &lt;strong&gt;enough&lt;/strong&gt; before taking certain decisions taken in the past. My question is, how much is &lt;strong&gt;enough&lt;/strong&gt;? :D&lt;br /&gt;Like, when do you know – Yes, I’ve thought enough and now I’m ready to take the decision. Absurd? Yes, I know. &lt;br /&gt;____________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;Everyone’s ultra complicated. Some show it, some don’t. I don’t think anyone is ‘simple’. Not at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am out of the loop. &lt;br /&gt;Totally by choice. &lt;br /&gt;Clap for me if you get me :D &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and I'm just too caught up with things these days which is why I couldnt read all your new posts. I shall do so asap :)&lt;br /&gt;Laaav!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: I gave the first interview of my life and it was KILLERRR! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-127453559985268618?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/127453559985268618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=127453559985268618' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/127453559985268618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/127453559985268618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/02/yes-i-still-exist.html' title='Yes, I still exist.'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-9208734783829676223</id><published>2010-02-17T00:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T00:16:58.825-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fly me to the moooon.</title><content type='html'>There are days when you feel like shit.&lt;br /&gt;And then there are days when you feel loved..so so loved :)&lt;br /&gt;When you realise that there aren’t enough days because you want to live forever&lt;br /&gt;When you want to spend all the time you have with the ones you love.&lt;br /&gt;When you feel like running away to some other planet and taking them along!&lt;br /&gt;When you are ready to forget all the mess some people got into your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it’s THAT day.&lt;br /&gt;And I’m feeling incredibly lucky to have met some people I have.&lt;br /&gt;And I want them in my next life too.&lt;br /&gt;Like, any how okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Some days the whole world seems upside down. And then some how, and probably, and when you least expect it, the world rights itself again.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;I realized, to change your world ..all you have to do is change the way you feel inside.&lt;br /&gt;How easy can that get ha?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, I want to fly.&lt;br /&gt;And dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: Lady Gaga.Is.A.Crazy.Woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S3ukXoojB_I/AAAAAAAAAHA/_FqCG-lHPSI/s1600-h/lady-gaga-button-hair-hat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439121700931438578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S3ukXoojB_I/AAAAAAAAAHA/_FqCG-lHPSI/s200/lady-gaga-button-hair-hat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT, seriously ..WHAT was she thinking?! :O&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-9208734783829676223?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/9208734783829676223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=9208734783829676223' title='30 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/9208734783829676223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/9208734783829676223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/02/fly-me-to-moooon.html' title='Fly me to the moooon.'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S3ukXoojB_I/AAAAAAAAAHA/_FqCG-lHPSI/s72-c/lady-gaga-button-hair-hat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>30</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-8452357656530340919</id><published>2010-02-06T22:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-06T23:05:12.490-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When everything's meant to be broken, I just want you to know who I am</title><content type='html'>Just as I was staring at myself in the mirror thinking about something, I realised that my patience has increased immensely in these years.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to a few lovely people.&lt;br /&gt;And ofcourse, a few shitheads too without whom it wouldn’t have been possible :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone’s getting married.&lt;br /&gt;Wtf.&lt;br /&gt;Even I feel like it.&lt;br /&gt;Just that I don’t have a guy in hand now.&lt;br /&gt;Problem na?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When some people make a come back in your life, is it natural to get tempted and get into the whole thing again? What if you want to but history reminds you that it might not be such a good idea? Requires strength to stand up and say ‘go away'. I’m not sure if I have that in me. Talk about tempting offers -_-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I *think* I’m going through a writer’s block.&lt;br /&gt;Something like, you open the word document to write a new blog post and nothing ..absoulutely nothing strikes you! Your mind's blank! That's all.&lt;br /&gt;YES. That is it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Shit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Shit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I don't like the number '63'. Make it 64 atleast.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-8452357656530340919?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/8452357656530340919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=8452357656530340919' title='27 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/8452357656530340919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/8452357656530340919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/02/when-everythings-meant-to-be-broken-i.html' title='When everything&apos;s meant to be broken, I just want you to know who I am'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>27</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-6615544367547318057</id><published>2010-01-30T04:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T04:16:52.519-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Aiyoo!</title><content type='html'>Why do we need to know which court Mohinder Singh Pandher was tried in? &lt;br /&gt;Why do we need to know when Sachin won the Arjuna Award? &lt;br /&gt;Why do we need to know which state wont have the state elections?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why, oh why!&lt;br /&gt;I just can’t get myself to pick Economic Times and start reading that horribly coloured newspaper.&lt;br /&gt;Can’t I be questioned on Bombay Times instead? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boo :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The yem bee yae blues begin soon. Shoot me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dilsa koi kameena nahi&lt;br /&gt;Koi to rokey, koi to tokey&lt;br /&gt;Iss umar mein ab khaogey dhokhe&lt;br /&gt;Darr lagta hai ishq karne mein ji&lt;br /&gt;Dil to bachcha hai ji&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This song is the saxxx!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-6615544367547318057?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/6615544367547318057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=6615544367547318057' title='35 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6615544367547318057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6615544367547318057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/01/aiyoo.html' title='Aiyoo!'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>35</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-8051905226835964078</id><published>2010-01-24T09:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T09:50:40.676-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Enough Please!</title><content type='html'>Whenever someone goes through tough times, we always tell them “look around. There’s a whole world around you. Look at the beggar on the street, the homeless. Consider yourself lucky and get over it”. Well yes, that’s absolutely true but the last time I heard this, I wondered what they might be telling each other to make it through. Who can they look at and feel 'lucky'? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a friend who’s just 17 and was detected with brain cancer 2 years back. The guy’s life hadn’t even started for god’s sake! Whenever you look at him, you just can’t make out that he is going through SUCH an awful time. I know some questions don’t have answers but WHY HIM?!! Did his parents know that their 17 yr old son would have to be going through this one fine day? Did his friends know that he won’t be able to graduate with them? Did HE know that one headache would turn his world upside down? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was so lively, so full of zest once upon a time and now seeing him sit quietly in one corner and watch TV all day is agonizing. Inspite of all this, he still manages to smile and make you feel that nothing’s changed. Whenever my parents visit him, I avoid going with them. I’m just too scared. I don’t know how to react when I see him. I don’t want to be saying something wrong. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t care if people say cancer is a dangerous disease, I don’t care if people say that a cancer patient doesn’t live long. I just want him to LIVE! He has to get back to normal! Somehow, when you’re old and you’re detected with something like this, it’s still believable but when kids are made to go through such tiring times, it just doesn’t seep in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His family has seen enough in these 2 years and everytime I look at them, I just think that it’s high time they get their due. It’s like, their patience is being tested and that ‘test’ never seems to end. How long can you go on stretching a string ..there will come a time when it’ll just snap. That’s not done. You cannot test one’s endurance level and play with them like this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine living like this continuously for 2 years. 2 fucking years! Rushing between doctors and hospitals, juggling with medicines and therapy sessions, getting up every morning and struggling through their days ..&lt;br /&gt;It’s too much. &lt;br /&gt;They don’t deserve this. Nobody does. &lt;br /&gt;On what basis is all this planned anyway? It SUCKS! Sucks so bad to see someone who so badly wants to live, battling for life everyday. &lt;br /&gt;I hope they win this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Whatever happens, happens for the best’ is something I totally believe in but I can’t get myself to understand how such a thing can happen for the best?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-8051905226835964078?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/8051905226835964078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=8051905226835964078' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/8051905226835964078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/8051905226835964078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/01/enough-please.html' title='Enough Please!'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-7224360686385855172</id><published>2010-01-20T09:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T09:47:04.400-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Keeping in touch and all that.</title><content type='html'>“You just can't keep in touch na!”&lt;br /&gt;“&lt;em&gt;Has it ever struck you WHY I don’t? Maybe, I don’t wish to.&lt;/em&gt; No ya, I do”  *WTF*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not really known for keeping in touch with old friends. Like from a group of 10, I keep in touch with only a few. Those who I &lt;strong&gt;choose&lt;/strong&gt; to keep in touch with basically. It’s been 6 long years since I left the place I stayed in for 10 years. Honestly, I don't like talking to any of them. It's like I don't wish to keep in contact with all those I knew before 2004. Gee. That's sad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason why I feel that way is because I’ve changed so drastically in these 6 years that I feel being around those people doesn’t let me be who I am now. This might be a silly mind block but when I’m around those friends, I find myself to be really restricted and so unlike what I generally am. They somehow remind me of how stupid I was back then and I don’t like that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, is it wrong to avoid meeting them every year? Is it wrong to not reply to all their messages? Is it wrong to not go for those reunions? Is it wrong to act like they don’t exist? Blah. I think it is but why should I bother being with people who pull me back to the past. The past I rather forget. No one to blame but whatever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it’s more like when people close to you step out of your life ..they in a way were inhibiting your growth in some way or the other. That's why it is necessary to leave. Makes sense? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Btw, I started having chicken again. When I saw that chicken sandwich lying in front of me, with Mayonnaise oozing out, it was so deliciously mouth watering that I couldn’t resist!&lt;br /&gt;I’m such a BUM. &lt;br /&gt;Someone teach me self-control.   &lt;br /&gt;Tee-hee-hee. I need it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Penelope Cruz is hot noh. If I were a guy, I would have had the *hots* for her -_-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-7224360686385855172?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/7224360686385855172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=7224360686385855172' title='26 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/7224360686385855172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/7224360686385855172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/01/keeping-in-touch-and-all-that.html' title='Keeping in touch and all that.'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>26</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-666198840015472376</id><published>2010-01-16T10:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T05:02:41.975-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Whats in your heaaaad!</title><content type='html'>I heard this quote somewhere “If you hold back on the emotions–if you don’t allow yourself to go all the way through them—you can never get to being detached, you’re too busy being afraid. You’re afraid of the pain, you’re afraid of the grief. You’re afraid of the vulnerability that loving entails.”&lt;br /&gt;And that I think that is a sad state to be in. I don’t see the point of holding back your emotions. What are you scared of anyway? You’ve just got one life; you really want to spend it living like a restricted, insecure person? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I usually don’t write movie reviews but this movie I just watched some time back was so pathetic that I had to mention it today. Chance pe Dance. Yes, it was horribly predictable. I was desperate to watch a movie and that’s why we planned on going for this one. Dance my ass! There’s no sign of good dance. After every 5 minutes, you have Shahid saying “1,2,3” and then you have green, red, yellow lights on him and he starts his acrobatics. Shahid, u disappointed me and Genelia ..It’s high time you stop giggling. It’s annoying. Nil chemistry between the two. There was a ‘trying to get intimate’ scene which was the biggest disappointment. Such things weren’t even shown in the 80s. The only good part was Zain Khan. Go google him. 16 yr old cutie. Not bad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the newest update is that I’ve turned into a vegetarian inspite of being a proper, hardcore Bengali (no wait, I would never have rice and fish so not that proper). Dad laughs it off saying that he’s sure I’ll go back to eating chicken in a few days, my mum’s furious as she feels I’m only doing this to lose weight, my brother who just isn’t aware of how &lt;strong&gt;important&lt;/strong&gt; my decision is.. could only come up with a “So?” and my uncle who would keep joking about coming to my house after I get married to eat &lt;em&gt;maach-bhaat&lt;/em&gt; is deeply saddened. &lt;br /&gt;I actually came across this article which spoke about vegetarianism. I got so involved that I did a bit more of research and that was enough for me to give up my 19 year old love for chicken. So, no chicken anymore, it’s only ghaas-poos for me now. Aiyoo, this is going to be tough :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: Listen to Zombie by The Cranberries, people. Superrr song. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;'Whats in your head, in your head&lt;br /&gt;Zombie, zombie, zombie'&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-666198840015472376?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/666198840015472376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=666198840015472376' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/666198840015472376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/666198840015472376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/01/whats-in-your-heaaaad.html' title='Whats in your heaaaad!'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-7605366730968840940</id><published>2010-01-12T23:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T00:14:51.910-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Au Revoir</title><content type='html'>Have you ever come across a person who is/was an important part of your life and how his/her decisions were strong enough to doubt the way you were as a person? Sometimes, you just don’t understand how some people work. You feel like shaking them hard and making them realise that what they say makes absolutely no sense to you. But whenever you try to do that, not a word comes out. Again, who am I to look down on anyone’s way of thinking? To each, his own. Everybody works so differently and it’s awful when you’ve understood someone all this while but one happening makes you question all that you shared with that person. The time when you need to understand him/her the most, that’s that time it never works. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just yesterday, you were having the best of times with somebody and today you’re reduced to just pure acquaintances. Sad? It’s tragic. Some changes are so unasked for but everybody says they’re necessary. I can't get myself to agree though. I might not get it now, but one day I will and that’s the only thing I can bank upon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a way, the worst way to depart is when it wasn’t any of your faults. You can’t even blame anyone for the present state. I’ve accepted the reality. Give me some more time, It should seep in by then. I’m not quick, I know.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read this line somewhere.. &lt;em&gt;No matter how hard you try to forget about something or someone, the Universe will conspire to skull fuck you with reminders.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So right. Skull fuck, I like the word. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all the shit, I havent turned into a depressed soul or anything. I remember being almost devastated when things got screwed up with the ex who wasn’t even half as important. Hell, What am I sitting here wondering about other people surprising me with the way they work..I bloody well surprise myself at times! &lt;br /&gt;But thats an amazing balls-to-you-i've-grown feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheating is not always about sex. People can cheat emotionally too. I wonder what hurts more..&lt;br /&gt;No, wait before God gets any more 'ideas' and plans to throw things at me again to make me realise what actually hurts more, I should make it clear that I'm just wondering..I dont need to 'know'. Yeah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-7605366730968840940?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/7605366730968840940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=7605366730968840940' title='26 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/7605366730968840940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/7605366730968840940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/01/au-revoir.html' title='Au Revoir'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>26</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-1097826703856013337</id><published>2010-01-09T07:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T07:11:42.926-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jasoosi and Me.</title><content type='html'>“Wow! That was SEXY!!”&lt;br /&gt;“You just said a bad word” &lt;br /&gt;“Huh? Oh okay. Sorry”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was a snippet of a conversation between my brother and me while watching tv. I assume that the &lt;em&gt;bad&lt;/em&gt; word is ‘sexy’. That made me think ..is he really that innocent or am I just dumb? Coz when I was 12, I would NEVER have referred to sexy as a bad word.&lt;br /&gt;Sexy’s like a good word ..a good good word ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lemme see..umm, when I was 12 ..I think I did quite a lot of things a 12 year old would consider &lt;em&gt;bad&lt;/em&gt;. And no one knew so is history repeating itself? I hope not. Somehow, it doesn’t feel good being on the receiving end. I love spying by the way. I would love to see the way my brother is when he is with his friends and stuff. My friends have often scolded me for spying on his facebook profile but whatever :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No but on a serious note, The last thing I would want is to see him get into wrong company. I trust him. I can advice him and I think that’s all I can do. I don’t want to be too pushy. I don’t want to intrude (hell, I would love to!). I know whatever’s meant to happen will happen but that doesn’t stop me from getting scared..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend recently got to know that her brother watches porn. I’m wondering how I would react if I EVER got to know such a thing. It gives me the creeps already. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh btw, if you guys need help in doing some jasoosi, lemme know. I can be an awesome jasoos! &lt;br /&gt;Better than bindaas’ emotional attyachar team for sure :P&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I have watched a few shows. Ya i know, Shoot me. But you must try it once. Its good fun watching all their my-partner-is-so-loyal bubbles burst. And the host is SO O-M-G! He definitely needs English lessons. “Are you hurted”, is the LAST thing I would want to hear if I see my boyfriend flirting away to glory with some other chick on national television! &lt;em&gt;Hurted&lt;/em&gt;, of all the things :|&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: Oh, I recently realised..that my brother is taller than me!&lt;br /&gt;Don’t tell me I’ve stopped growing :O&lt;br /&gt;5’5 se mera kya hoga! Nahiiiiiiiii&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-1097826703856013337?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/1097826703856013337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=1097826703856013337' title='35 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/1097826703856013337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/1097826703856013337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/01/jasoosi-and-me.html' title='Jasoosi and Me.'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>35</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-8208837102637839337</id><published>2010-01-06T09:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T00:14:55.843-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hmmmm</title><content type='html'>I’ve often heard people say that life shouldn’t be taken so seriously and all that. I wonder how it’s done. I want to try it too. &lt;br /&gt;So, how do you NOT take life seriously? Teach me noh. Must be fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be so ‘casual’. Casual about everything. Every damn thing. Like, I don’t care who enters my life and who goes. I don’t want to be so bound by emotions. I want to be able to take things lightly. You know, the whole ‘chalta hain’ attitude. Hmm, so that. I don’t want to think TOO much. I want to be so fucking free of all this. And I want to go bungee jumping, N.O.W!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just felt like pasting some lyrics ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;‘So kiss me and smile for me&lt;br /&gt;Tell me that you'll wait for me&lt;br /&gt;Hold me like you'll never let me go’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Honestly, what will become of me?&lt;br /&gt;I don't like reality&lt;br /&gt;It's way too clear to me&lt;br /&gt;But really life is dandy&lt;br /&gt;We are what we don't see&lt;br /&gt;We miss everything daydreaming’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘I've found a reason for me&lt;br /&gt;To change who I used to be&lt;br /&gt;A reason to start over new&lt;br /&gt;And the reason is you&lt;br /&gt;I've found a reason to show&lt;br /&gt;A side of me you didn't know&lt;br /&gt;A reason for all that I do&lt;br /&gt;And the reason is you’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘But you see, it's not me, it's not my family. &lt;br /&gt;In your head, in your head they are fighting, &lt;br /&gt;With their tanks and their bombs, &lt;br /&gt;And their bombs and their guns. &lt;br /&gt;In your head, in your head, they are crying... &lt;br /&gt;In your head, in your head, &lt;br /&gt;Zombie, zombie, zombie’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘My tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why &lt;br /&gt;I got out of bed at all &lt;br /&gt;The morning rain clouds up my window &lt;br /&gt;and I can't see at all &lt;br /&gt;And even if I could it'd all be grey, &lt;br /&gt;but your picture on my wall &lt;br /&gt;It reminds me that it's not so bad, &lt;br /&gt;it's not so bad’&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: I have trouble concentrating when there's TOO much cuteness around. Damn!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-8208837102637839337?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/8208837102637839337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=8208837102637839337' title='27 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/8208837102637839337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/8208837102637839337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/01/hmmmm.html' title='Hmmmm'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>27</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-6422911715185738974</id><published>2010-01-04T10:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T00:15:33.189-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Void.</title><content type='html'>Well, I learnt a very important lesson yesterday and it is that being sweet and always trying to make things easier for the ‘others’ around you gets you nowhere. You have to save your ass first. At the end of the day, it’s just you and your lil’ ass and you certainly don’t want it burnt. (Umm, I don’t think that line made much sense but I liked the sound of it. You get me, i hope)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, however close you are to a person it’s very important to keep your trap shut at times. There are some things which need NOT be told aloud. At the end, it just works against you and nothing else. And I’m someone who needs to really keep this in mind because when I share a good comfort level with somebody, I tend to speak my heart out. So not cool. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday night was not expected to turn out this way. In one hour, I realised so much about myself. In that one hour, someone planted an atom bomb on my head and I was unprepared. Yes, I did learn but the way I did isn’t really a pleasant memory. But maybe, that’s life. Unless you don’t learn it the hard way, things don’t seep in and change. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, so I lost a very very close friend (plus something else which I dont know what to call) in somebody. I don’t know how long that will last and how things will be between us from now onwards. It is partly in my hands to just overlook whatever happened but it feels close to impossible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the whole thing, more than being hurt, angry, depressed ..I just feel really very dumb. So dumb that it makes me laugh. I think it’s high time I start drawing the line somewhere and wearing an ‘invisible shield’. I’ve seen such people and I swear I envy them. Even though I don’t like the sound of wearing an ‘invisible shield’, I have to try. I’ll atleast be spared of these moments when I feel totally silly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the same thing happens to you twice, there’s bound to be some flaw in you right? Reminds of this line I read somewhere: Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.&lt;br /&gt;Aah, so totally meant for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m a mess right now. I don’t even know how I’m going to implement all that I just wrote about. I’m too cranky and sleep deprived as of now so I’m off to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: I might not be happy with the way things turned out but I’m not miserable or anything. A tad bit angry that’s it. Not at him, at myself. &lt;br /&gt;Highlight of the day, I made muffins and they were yummm :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-6422911715185738974?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/6422911715185738974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=6422911715185738974' title='24 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6422911715185738974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6422911715185738974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/01/void.html' title='Void.'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>24</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-3580794803684567398</id><published>2010-01-02T08:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T09:04:44.126-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Some posts have no titles ..</title><content type='html'>..coz I cant think of one right now :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What’s with everyone?! I know its New Years and all that but why does everyone have to waste their money and time messaging ‘Happy New Year’. I mean, I know you wish me a ‘happy-happy’ new year..duh, it’s obvious! Thank you very much but I don’t like to see my cell phone beeping every 2 minutes just to see the same old message again and again from so many people! Sorry, it’s just that I’m so bugged of these forwards that I decided to dedicate half a post to them. I share everything with my blog, you see!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh what a start, WHAT a start to this post! Anyway, so college started. It saved me from tearing my hair out. And getting bald for me is like committing suicide..so yeah :)&lt;br /&gt;I was just talking to a friend some minutes before everyone went “yayy! 2010’s hereee” and she accused me of sounding very low and depressed about the coming year. That irritated me further coz I don’t know how I was ‘supposed’ to react if that was one of her ‘oh-so-jumpy’ days and not mine :|&lt;br /&gt;I wasn’t upset..she was just too overjoyed to see anything else!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m just being horribly mean these days. I don’t know why!! I don’t want to but why are people behaving so idiotic! Or is it just me? Okay, maybe it’s me but fuck! I can’t help it. I can’t always be tum-khush-toh-main-khush types! &lt;br /&gt;Tum khush? Okay! But, sometimes main nai khush, okay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my darling 2010, you better bring some good sexy change alright. I bloody well expect you to be so very dhinchak ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: Do I bore you guys with my day-to-day updates? &lt;br /&gt;But I have so much to say ..that I just go on and on you see :D&lt;br /&gt;Be honest. Okay, not SO honest hmm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I swear to never touch Chocolate Fantasy in CCD along with Vodka and Beer because the chocolate fantasy served to me today looked like it was a victim of a  tsunami or something and that totally killed my appetite. But I took it so I had to have it and I ended up feeling PHAAT for NO reason. Bleh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-3580794803684567398?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/3580794803684567398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=3580794803684567398' title='25 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/3580794803684567398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/3580794803684567398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2010/01/some-posts-have-no-titles.html' title='Some posts have no titles ..'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>25</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-6317389049862109955</id><published>2009-12-31T00:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T01:28:38.791-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This and that ..here and there ..</title><content type='html'>Just a bunch of disconnected thoughts ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s the season..to be sexually frustrated. Yes, don’t hide your faces..I know you, you and yes you.. are sexually frustrated as well :P&lt;br /&gt;Huahaha! I’m telling you, it is indeed the ‘sexually frustrated’ season!&lt;br /&gt;Currently, I know of 3 people who are sexually frustrated and 1 who is trying his BEST to control. Goodness! The human body is a funny lil’ thing haa. Soon, we’ll need counsellors coz any kind of frustration my child, makes you do crazy crazy things ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A likes B. B likes A. C likes A. A doesn’t like-like C. B starts acting weird. A gets all worked up. In the mess, A gets too detached from B and realises she has started liking C. She turns to C just to see C behind someone else. Now, A runs behind C forgetting B. WTF! DOES A HAVE NOTHING BETTER TO DO IN LIFE?!!&lt;br /&gt;Contrary to your expectations, this for a change is NOT my story :P&lt;br /&gt;Phew. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a friend who’s 18 already but he just refuses to GROW UP. Do guys take an unusually long period of time to grow up? I wonder ..&lt;br /&gt;And he’s not the ranbir-in-wake-up-sid-wala-cute-kid kid okay, he’s the really annoying-kid kid -_-&lt;br /&gt;I'm just trying to not be mean but unfortunately ..its not working out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to try out past life regression too and no, not with Ravi Kishen hovering around my head!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All through 2009, I remember loving it but now I can just see myself wanting to get over with it asap! Go 2009, Go ..thy job is done! But, you've been an awesome year ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m dying of joblessness! Can’t wait for college to begin. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh. I’m beginning to forget someone’s face. Good sign? Bad sign? I don’t know. Whatever it is, I don’t like the feeling :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, this post is really weird but I’m just posting it. &lt;br /&gt;Oh and btw, &lt;br /&gt;A very happy new year to all of you out there! May you have a rocking 2010 :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-6317389049862109955?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/6317389049862109955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=6317389049862109955' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6317389049862109955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6317389049862109955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/12/this-and-that-here-and-there.html' title='This and that ..here and there ..'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-8001295065451267567</id><published>2009-12-29T08:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T21:24:28.489-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Taggg-ED!</title><content type='html'>So, i've been tagged by Choco ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. What is your current obsession? &lt;br /&gt;   My hair is and will always be my obsession.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. What are you wearing today? &lt;br /&gt;   Pink top and blue shorts. Thinking if I should go wear a jacket coz I'm        &lt;br /&gt;    freezing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. What’s for dinner?&lt;br /&gt;   I smell Chole. Choley or chole?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. What’s the last thing you bought? &lt;br /&gt;   A watch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. What are you listening to right now? &lt;br /&gt;   Need You Now – Lady Antebellum&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. What do you think about the person who tagged you? &lt;br /&gt;   She writes well and I enjoy reading her blog! Sweet girl :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. If you could have a house totally paid for, fully furnished anywhere in the   world, where would you like it to be?&lt;br /&gt;   New York&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. What are your must-have pieces for summer? &lt;br /&gt;   Sunscreen lotion!  I get tanned so easily! Ugh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. If you could go anywhere in the world for the next hour, where would you go? &lt;br /&gt;   Delhi. Right this second!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Which language do you want to learn? &lt;br /&gt;    I Want to excel in French :D&lt;br /&gt;    And then I want to learn Gujrati coz gujjus are cho cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. What’s your favourite quote? &lt;br /&gt;    Whatever happens, happens for the best! I’ll believe in it till I die. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Who do you want to meet right now?&lt;br /&gt;    Coujjins. I mish them :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. What is your favourite colour? &lt;br /&gt;    Purple, I love and pink’s my new favourite!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Give us 3 styling tips that work for you.&lt;br /&gt;    Don’t overdo stuff. Make sure you’re comfortable in what you wear. Avoid animal  prints coz I hate them :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. What is your dream job? &lt;br /&gt;    To do a movie that has SRK and me in the lead. Then, we can have Ben Affleck and Ranbir Kapoor too in the second half :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. What’s your favorite magazine? &lt;br /&gt;    Blaaah! Don’t kill me ..but I think it’s Femina. That’s the only magazine I’ve read in the past few months I guess :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. If you had $100 now, what would you spend it on? &lt;br /&gt;    Clothes, clothes and more clothes. And I’ll also buy gifts for a few people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. What do you consider a fashion faux pas? &lt;br /&gt;    Animal prints! Yuck. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Who according to you is the most over-rated style icon? &lt;br /&gt;    Dhoni. MTV had once nominated him as a style icon. I don’t know if he won but even nominating him was like :O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. What kind of haircut do you prefer?&lt;br /&gt;    Long but not like the ones that reach your waist &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. What are you going to do after this?  &lt;br /&gt;    Hog :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. What are your favourite movies? &lt;br /&gt;    So many baba! I can’t even begin to write!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. What inspires you? &lt;br /&gt;    Some people in a twisted way ..inspire me to NOT end up like them. Get me? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. What do your friends call you most commonly?&lt;br /&gt;    Some make cute modifications of my name and it’s really amusing to hear. And then there are some who can never learn how to pronounce my name which annoys me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Would you prefer coffee or tea? &lt;br /&gt;    Coffeeeee! I wonder how people drink tea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. What do you do when you are feeling low or terribly depressed?&lt;br /&gt;    I cry and it helps me. And if u think crying is a sign of weakness --&gt; *slap*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. What makes you go wild? &lt;br /&gt;    Ooh, wild and all that ;) &lt;br /&gt;    But in what sense exactly? I think I am perennially pretty wild :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. Which other blogs do you love visiting?&lt;br /&gt;    All the ones on my blogroll. Sweethearts they are!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. Favorite Dessert/Sweet? &lt;br /&gt;    Chocolates!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. How many tabs are turned on in ur browser right now?&lt;br /&gt;    My blog, Gmail and I’m also reading Sense and Sensibilty which is a part of the reading list given to us! Talk about multi-tasking ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. Favorite Season? &lt;br /&gt;    Winter, I loveee :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. If I come to your house now, what would u cook for me? &lt;br /&gt;    I’m sorry but I only cook for myself but if u do turn up ..I could make maggi or something for you or this chocolate dessert I invented recently ..its called Sizzling Marie! Even if you don’t want to have it, I’ll make sure u take a bite :P &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. What is the right way to avoid people who purposefully hurt you? &lt;br /&gt;    Just look THROUGH them! I do that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. What are you afraid of the most? &lt;br /&gt;    Animals! I think the worst way to die is to get eaten up by some animal ..like a lion or something :O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought?&lt;br /&gt;    If only ..this nose could have been shaped differently! Lol, that’s what I think everyday :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36. What brings a smile on your face instantly? &lt;br /&gt;    Oooh, tooo many things/people! Sometimes, I start smiling without any rhyme or reason .. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. A word that you say a lot?&lt;br /&gt;    Uum, I go ‘reaaaalllyy?!’ like so many times and ‘oh fuck’ toh chalta rehta hain!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn, the tag’s over :(&lt;br /&gt;I could go on and on! Thanks Choco :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rules for those who are tagged:&lt;br /&gt;Respond and rework – answer these questions on your blog, replace one question that you dislike with a question of your own, and add one more question to the list. Then tag eight or ten other new set of people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, I’ll tag :&lt;br /&gt;-Sulagna&lt;br /&gt;-Shreya&lt;br /&gt;-Disguise (where art thou?)&lt;br /&gt;-Ramit &lt;br /&gt;-PNA&lt;br /&gt;-Ashley&lt;br /&gt;-Yemiledu&lt;br /&gt;-Sid&lt;br /&gt;-buckingfastard&lt;br /&gt;-nil&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-8001295065451267567?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/8001295065451267567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=8001295065451267567' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/8001295065451267567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/8001295065451267567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/12/taggg-ed.html' title='Taggg-ED!'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-4388959557506412673</id><published>2009-12-26T22:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-26T23:02:13.225-08:00</updated><title type='text'>*dhoom-dhaas-thoos-thaaas*</title><content type='html'>I got sloshed on Xmas night at my friend’s place in a sleepover.&lt;br /&gt;1 bottle of Vodka + half a bottle of Beer = me gone totally ‘tul’ :D&lt;br /&gt;That’s how I spent 2009’s Christmas! And it was fabulous *hic*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, you all read about how mad I was some days back but getting drunk surely left me feeling a lot lighter and calmer. I could feel it when I woke up next morning. I felt like ..there was some kind of a burden which got released. It was my first. I’ve always wanted to get drunk and I think God made all the arrangements to make our plan work ;)&lt;br /&gt;When I see how the day passed..it just looks picture perfect. Nothing went wrong. Damn, was I glad or what! That just goes to show that it just had to happen for SOME reason and it did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I danced, I cried, I laughed like a maniac, I jumped, I sang ..I did everything I could in those 5 hours of drunkenness. I don’t think I was entirely drunk coz I do remember quite a lot of things. You know, how a kid laughs when his mum/dad throw him up into the air ..The kid knows his parents are not going to let him fall. That’s how I felt when I just fell backwards without thinking twice. And who caught me? The red bean bag :P&lt;br /&gt;And it kept catching me everytime I did it. I even kissed it. Ok, I’m talking crap and no, I’m not drunk anymore. Oh, and I kept saying “I love my mumma” and “I’m sorry” before my friend put me to sleep. Yes, I love my mum but why was I sorry?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, we danced. We danced on Sinbad the Sailor and Masakali coz those were the only songs coming on TV that time :/ *damn*&lt;br /&gt;I even screwed things up with some people on phone but I don’t really have regrets. I was just too embarrassed having said whatever I said. But duh, I have an excuse ..I was drunk c’mon! I’m allowed that I guess ;)&lt;br /&gt;And then came the time, when I cried. Cried my heart out. Whining like a baby. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope u guys had a fun time too :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh btw, I don’t understand how people get addicted to alcohol! It tastes yuck. *waaack*&lt;br /&gt;It was just my medicine to get drunk. I so didn’t enjoy having it. Even imagining it to be cold coffee with chocolate sauce and whipped cream didn’t help. I almost swore to NOT touch alcohol for the next 10 months atleast! Don’t ask me about the after effects! I almost died. My tummy troubled me so much and I had a crazy headache. I slept for 6-7 hours yesterday and felt drowsy all throughout. I puked too. Infact, I spent my whole morning in the loo yesterday :/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: I’m currently reading a 'super white gay vampire’s' and a 'silly girl’s' louwe story. I was forced to so don’t judge me. Yes, I'm utterly jobless and have nothing better to do in life :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-4388959557506412673?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/4388959557506412673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=4388959557506412673' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/4388959557506412673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/4388959557506412673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/12/dhoom-dhaas-thooos-thaaas.html' title='*dhoom-dhaas-thoos-thaaas*'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-6796870118742104016</id><published>2009-12-23T21:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T22:13:22.126-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm about to burst!</title><content type='html'>I am so furious, I could KILL somebody!&lt;br /&gt;I feel like slapping him left, right and centre..I feel like punching a punching bag till my hands hurt, I feel like throwing things around and breaking glasses, chairs, tables and everything possible, I feel like throwing away my phone, I feel like tearing open my pillow, I feel like screaming my lungs out so that it reaches him wherever he is, I feel like scribbling with a black marker on the white walls of my house, I feel like throwing tomatoes and eggs at somebody. Can I do ANY of the above? No. All I can do is C-R-Y. And I’ve cried so much already, post last night that it does not help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Balls to being mature. Balls to being understanding. Balls to being sweet. Balls to being patient. Balls to being quiet and keeping everything to myself. All of this goes OUT of my window right this second! If being all of that makes me go through this shit then that’s it. Now, I’m going to be stubborn. I’m going to act like an immature kid and YOU have to give ME what I want. In other words, I’m just going to be YOU. Sometimes, i feel like using people and ticking them off from the tip of my fingers whenever i wish to but I can never get myself to do such a thing. I would die of guilt or something. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What irritates me is that I repeatedly find myself going in circles. I can come out of it right now but everytime I think I have..I find myself in the same position! I’m not the types who keeps high expectations from myself but this time I feel like I’ve terribly let someone down..and that’s me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, *bows down to all those who’ve managed to conquer the &lt;a href="http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post.html"&gt;non-attachment phase&lt;/a&gt;*&lt;br /&gt;As for me, I’m unfortunately.. too comfortably settled in the ‘attachment’ phase and still haven’t figured a way out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See what YOU do to me! I don’t even a p.s to offer for this post!&lt;br /&gt;Fuck youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM MAD AT HIM AND I WANT HIM TO KNOW!&lt;br /&gt;HOW?&lt;br /&gt;I DON'T KNOW!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever been SO angry at someone that your head feels like it's going to burst any second? &lt;br /&gt;My head's hurting and I'm going back to bed.&lt;br /&gt;Have a nice day ..I'm sure to -_-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-6796870118742104016?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/6796870118742104016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=6796870118742104016' title='27 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6796870118742104016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6796870118742104016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/12/im-about-to-burst.html' title='I&apos;m about to burst!'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>27</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-3186815076285259472</id><published>2009-12-20T02:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T01:00:27.713-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Trapped</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;On our wedding night, he entered drunk. He abused my family and me. I was shocked to see that side of him. I couldn’t sleep that night. Next morning, I found a card beside me. He had left for work leaving me a card saying he was sorry. I forgave him. “Just one day”, I thought. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I waited for him that evening. I prepared a special dinner and decorated the house with candles too but He came home really late. He was fuming with anger for some reason and took off his anger at me. He hit me with his belt when I tried to talk to him. Next day, he apologized with flowers. I forgave him. I put it off thinking he must have had a bad day in office. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But I was wrong. Not one day, not two days..This just continued. It became a part of my life. Those beatings, those abuses, those insults, those threats..I had no choice but to get used to it. Everyday, I would feel that one day he would change, one day he’ll stop. Sadly, it never seemed to end. My friends and family often asked me what the marks on my face were. I gave them stupid reasons. I couldn’t look at them in the eye. By no means did I want them to know the torture I was made to go through. “My husband loves me, I know. He’s just short-tempered” ..I would make myself believe. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I was tired. Tired of lying to my loved ones, tired of making up for his ruthless behaviour, tired of being treated like an ‘object’, tired of feeling sorry for myself, tired of looking at the marks he made on my body, tired of crying in the bathroom every night. I would just look at him and wonder what had happened to the man I married? Where had he disappeared? Who was this monster I was living with? This was all beyond my understanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The depressed, weak, trapped, distorted image I saw in the mirror was just not me. I wanted to free myself from his clutches. And I finally got the freedom I had longed for ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Today, I’m free. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I’m lying on my death bed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He finally killed me. He burnt me to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;P.S: Inspired by the talk we had on 'Domestic Violence' recently. I dont understand how some people can be so inhuman. It disgusts me. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-3186815076285259472?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/3186815076285259472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=3186815076285259472' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/3186815076285259472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/3186815076285259472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/12/trapped_1816.html' title='Trapped'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-1427892589309435854</id><published>2009-12-17T11:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-17T12:12:02.385-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Woohoo!!</title><content type='html'>Guess who JUST turned Nineteeeeeen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gosh, this year went super fast. Feels like it was just yesterday when i turned 18&lt;br /&gt;yah! THAT fast! :O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so not excited for my birthday. I dont feel 19. I don’t feel the change. I stopped feeling anything since the time I turned 17. No, I’m not this lifeless, depressed soul or anything. It’s just that ..age baby, was never a barrier ;)&lt;br /&gt;Huahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 1:30 and im actually wide awake, writing this post ..knowing that i just have 3 hours before i get ready for college! Maybe because i'm just too elated coz some people just made my day ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year was faaaaab! I loved 2007, 2008 and 2009&lt;br /&gt;Sexiest years till date! 2010, i hope is SEXIER!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: Recently, I called my friend a 'chienne' and she went WTF :S&lt;br /&gt;And I was like “Huahaha, chienne means bitch” B-)&lt;br /&gt;Lol, Shreya thanks for helping me increase my French vocab. I lurveee that word!&lt;br /&gt;Try my best to throw it around these days :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-1427892589309435854?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/1427892589309435854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=1427892589309435854' title='26 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/1427892589309435854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/1427892589309435854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/12/woohoo.html' title='Woohoo!!'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>26</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-7051932318946317391</id><published>2009-12-13T03:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T04:00:05.973-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Me. Award. Yay!</title><content type='html'>My *first* blogging award, yayy :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/SyTU2fxgl6I/AAAAAAAAACQ/K7_gKfVc5vE/s1600-h/kreative1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 157px; height: 170px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/SyTU2fxgl6I/AAAAAAAAACQ/K7_gKfVc5vE/s320/kreative1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414686684713359266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you buckingfastard!&lt;br /&gt;So, here goes ..7 things about myself that nobody knows ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I’m obsessed with the mirror. I can sit in front of it for ages and make faces at myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Spontaneity excites me. I love being that way and being around such people. I hate it when people take ages to decide something. I feel like shaking them up and screaming, right into their ears!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. I have always been scared of MJ. When I was tiny, many of my nightmares included him. May his soul rest in peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I love creating nicknames for people. Like some really embarrassing, weird ones and calling them out in public! Huahaha :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I forget faces very quickly. Pictures don’t help because seeing a picture and remembering how someone looks isn’t the same. There are times when I miss someone a lot but when I try to remember his/her face, it just doesn’t happen. That sucks.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;6. I’m loving French! I can go and settle down in Paris now. And anyway, francias garcon sont sexaayy ;) [I think I screwed that up :/]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Blogging made me realise that I don’t write thaaaat bad.&lt;br /&gt;I’m loving it and finding so many like-minded people here is just wonderful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next step is to pass it over to 7 other people. &lt;br /&gt;So, I think I’ll pass it over to everyone on my Blogroll because they are ALL such amazing writers and I enjoy reading their posts :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rules: &lt;br /&gt;1) List 7 things about yourself that nobody know.&lt;br /&gt;2) Pass on this award to 7 other people.&lt;br /&gt;3) Comment on their blog and let them know that they are tagged.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-7051932318946317391?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/7051932318946317391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=7051932318946317391' title='25 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/7051932318946317391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/7051932318946317391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/12/me-award-yay.html' title='Me. Award. Yay!'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/SyTU2fxgl6I/AAAAAAAAACQ/K7_gKfVc5vE/s72-c/kreative1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>25</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-4179108846250559558</id><published>2009-12-10T04:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T04:43:50.311-08:00</updated><title type='text'>R and her boyfriend.</title><content type='html'>WARNING: Horribly random. Like cant get random-er! Don’t blame me for wasting your precious 60 seconds after you’re done :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so my friend R and I were sitting on the marble stairs having coffee ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“U know, my boyfriend’s coming to pick me up today”&lt;br /&gt;“Aah, nice! What does he do?”&lt;br /&gt;“he works! He’s really sweet haa! He looks better than me but whatever..ill introduce u guys ..let him come”&lt;br /&gt;“*so not interested* oh okay! Cool cool”&lt;br /&gt;“He has brown eyes! I love them! He looks really good. People told him to try modelling but I was like arey u have such a good job..don’t leave it for modelling c’mon! Right na?”&lt;br /&gt;“yes ofcourse”&lt;br /&gt;“U know how we first met? Oh god it was so filmy u know! We were fighting like crazy and then next day he only came and spoke to me and that’s how we got talking and phir he asked me out after a few days and I was like chalo, lets give It a try and I’m glad because he’s so sweet!”&lt;br /&gt;“&lt;em&gt;Even films don’t show those things these days. &lt;/em&gt;Awh, sweet! I think we have to come on Monday too for the meeting. I don’t think ill come. Serious waste of time”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes we do. Ill come and ill ask him to come pick me up too! Advantage of having a boyfriend ..hahaha”&lt;br /&gt;“&lt;em&gt;Does your bf have no other work?&lt;/em&gt; Hahaha, ya do that!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Her phone rings. It’s her boyfriend&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Where are you? Haa so come fast! Got a cab? It’ll take 10 mins from the station! Hmm, ok! Shut up. Don’t act smart haa! Hahahaha! Okay fine ..come and then we’ll see! Call me when u get a cab okay! If u don’t get it ..ill come. Bye”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;back to me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He keeps doing masti! Let’s go and stand near the gate. He should be coming!”&lt;br /&gt;“No u go. I’ll have to wait for N here. You carry on! Have fun ..I’ll meet him some other time ya!”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh okay! Ya, ill tell him to come everyday now! Kuch toh kaam aaye ..haha”&lt;br /&gt;“Haha! Ya ya! Bye”&lt;br /&gt;“Bye”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PHEW.&lt;br /&gt;And I sat there waiting for N who turned up after 20 minutes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Where the fuck were you?!”&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t ask! I met R while entering and then we got talking and her boyfriend came and she got us introduced and stuff! I need coffeeee!!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..and I died laughing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girls I tell you :P&lt;br /&gt;I study in an all girls college and sometimes it gets to me. There are some girls who are just so excited about having a boyfriend. They can start yapping about their boyfraaands to anyone they meet! It’s really amusing to hear because they are just so jumpy about the whole thing! All you have to do is sit and stare and nod and smile ofcourse!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: I watched P.S. I love you and wept for the zillionth time. &lt;br /&gt;As I’m writing this, I realise how I totally exploit the usage of post-scripts! Lol, I just can’t do without them! :P&lt;br /&gt;I have to add atleast one P.S at the end of every post!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-4179108846250559558?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/4179108846250559558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=4179108846250559558' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/4179108846250559558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/4179108846250559558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/12/r-and-her-boyfriend.html' title='R and her boyfriend.'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-8844845380356591591</id><published>2009-12-04T10:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-04T10:28:45.783-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh-Ms.Arrogant!</title><content type='html'>Tired, angry, helpless, let down, irritated, clueless. That’s  me today. &lt;br /&gt;You feel like shit when people think you to be something you just aren’t and never intended to be. It’s damn annoying because all you want to do is scream from the roof-tops but even that doesn’t seem to help much. Why do I care so much? I am that way. It does affect me, especially when a not-so-pleasant tag has been stuck to you for quite a long time. The &lt;em&gt;Ms. Arrogant &lt;/em&gt;tag. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I heard this for the first time, I was like WHAAT ..but im not that way and blah blah blah! Now, I’m getting used to it. Not that I’m proud of it but in a way I have no choice. Many people have told me that I just LOOK arrogant but after knowing me they know I’m nowhere close to being so. But that’s not good right? I have no intentions of coming across as an arrogant person. I don’t even know from where it started. I tried to dig up so many reasons..maybe I don’t smile 'enough' or maybe I don’t 'seem' that interested in meeting new people and so on ..&lt;br /&gt;I’m still left with no answer. And when I don’t know the reason, I can’t see from where I can start making the changes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How much can I say that I don’t care? At the end of the day, I do care because that’s not what I am ..I AM NOT ARROGANT ..yes, I’m shouting now! Is it right to make your baseless judgements without even making an effort to know the person?  Its sick. I’m exhausted and I feel like I’ve failed miserably. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever it is, I know there are many who’ll stand up for me and who know how I am. For the others, I’ll just give myself a few more chances and change the way I ‘make’ myself appear. Yes, I’m making efforts because I want to do away with the fucking tag. It bloody well bothers me. &lt;br /&gt;If things still don’t change, balls to them. I’m done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go die, you judgemental assholes. Fuck you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;‘I want to live in a world where people don’t judge you with what they’ve heard, they actually take the efforts to know you’&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-8844845380356591591?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/8844845380356591591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=8844845380356591591' title='32 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/8844845380356591591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/8844845380356591591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/12/oh-msarrogant.html' title='Oh-Ms.Arrogant!'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>32</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-2193048969148846806</id><published>2009-11-30T01:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T04:51:58.062-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Once upon a time..</title><content type='html'>..there were two girls. Lets name them Meghna and Sia. They were the best of friends. Even though they were four in a group, these two were inseparable. They loved each other dearly and didn’t hide a thing from each other. They would have code names for their crushes, those sleepovers, prank calls ..these 13 year olds were having the time of their lives! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meghna’s looks could not be left unobserved. She was a really pretty girl. The perfect eyes, the perfect nose, everything was just so perfect! Wherever she went people had to comment on her good looks. Even though she was used to it, she didn’t let that go to her head. She remained her sweet, loving self. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days went by..she had guys coming and confessing their 'love'for her. Valentines Day would bring with it a whole bunch of flowers and chocolates for her and only her. Sia being her closest friend witnessed all this quietly. She was ofcourse very happy for Meghna but just one day while thinking to herself, she realised that she was a ‘nobody’. Whenever she was with Meghna, she became invisible. No one would even notice her presence. There were people who came and spoke to her only about her best friend. She took all this and slowly and unconsciously started making judgements about herself. She started believing in the fact that she was ugly, useless and not even close to Meghna who she considered to be very lucky. Even though they were best friends, this was one dark secret she never wished to share. Inspite of all this, She didn’t let it affect their friendship. The bond just strengthened. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, the day came when Sia had to leave that school, that city, that country for good. It was a horrible day for both of them. Sia cried buckets. She hated God for this. Going and adjusting to a whole new place sent shivers down her spine. But she had no choice. The surroundings, people, situations had changed but Sia’s perception about herself remained unaltered. Infact, it grew. She wasn’t a loner but she hated her life, the decisions she made..She hated everything related to her. She disliked the way she looked and thought herself to be plain ugly. When she would hear about some guys having a crush on her, she would wonder how one could like HER. She would always tell her friends, “If I was a guy, I would never ever like ME”. Nothing and no one could make her believe that she was not as bad as she thought herself to be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that girl, WAS me :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, this is my story. Things said and done, it’s been 3 years since I’ve changed. So many things happened in these years that made me rethink and change the way I feel about myself and life in general. Now, I’m not even close to being what I used to be. I can say that I LOVE what I see in the mirror everyday ;)&lt;br /&gt;I never hated that gorgeous looking friend of mine. I still don’t. She’s an amazing person and made me realise a very important thing about myself. The funny part is, another VERY good friend of mine is greatly responsible for helping me carrying out that massive change. Love you both. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For all u people out there who don’t like themselves, do come out of it. Believe me, it’s a terrible way to live. Everyone’s unique, everyone’s beautiful in their own way and there’s absolutely no need to compare yourself to others. Make the utmost of the life bestowed upon you. &lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wonder what state I would have been in ..if those 3 years hadnt happened. I don’t think I would have survived this much. No one can.. with SUCH a pessimistic take on life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: And don’t you dare laugh at the lameness of the title..&lt;br /&gt;‘Once upon a time’ is used for fairytales and this is ONE of my fairytales too :)&lt;br /&gt;Just without a guy but who says u need a guy in every fairytale huh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Main apni favourite hoon. Period. :D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-2193048969148846806?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/2193048969148846806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=2193048969148846806' title='36 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/2193048969148846806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/2193048969148846806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/11/once-upon-time_30.html' title='Once upon a time..'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>36</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-5174060493319255474</id><published>2009-11-27T01:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T08:42:35.087-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Exaaaams.</title><content type='html'>I had my 1st paper today. I was listening to music like an idiot in the train and you know at times when some song just remains in your head. Like it keeps playing in your mind. Whatever u do, it keeps coming back to you throughout the day ..&lt;br /&gt;Yes, that had to happen today when I had a bloody 2 hour paper to write. ARGH.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the song was none other than Akon’s Right Now (Akon, I hate u.)&lt;br /&gt;So, there was this huge mess brewing in my head while writing..&lt;br /&gt;Something like ..&lt;br /&gt;Communal riots are the manifestation of communal tension&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I wanna make up right now na na&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The victims or participants are not necessarily the instigat..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;wish we never broke up right now na na&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;igators. The people usually belong to the urban poor and..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;we need to link up right now na na&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh, WTF. And I gave the whole paper like that :|&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw this group on facebook which read ‘I daydream randomly and then realise I’m staring at someone by mistake’&lt;br /&gt;LMAO. Story of my life. Love you, facebook ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toodles. &lt;br /&gt;Save me. I no want to study :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-5174060493319255474?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/5174060493319255474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=5174060493319255474' title='27 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/5174060493319255474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/5174060493319255474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/11/exaaaams.html' title='Exaaaams.'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>27</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-5926423980741675054</id><published>2009-11-23T02:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T03:04:31.688-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chiggy Wiggy</title><content type='html'>I missed you, my dear little BLOG! I missed u so maaach :(&lt;br /&gt;Last week was super hectic.. I was awfully busy. I didn’t come online, didn’t watch tv, no reading nothing ..thats HOW busy I was! But I loved it. I was caught up with my college fest and now its over ..and I miss it like crazy already. I still feel I have to get up at 5 tomorrow morning and rush to college and see it all beautifully decorated and filled with people and banners &lt;br /&gt;*sigh* &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do crows shit only on my head? I know my hair’s like awesome and it smells great but cmon ya! :P&lt;br /&gt;Those dirty, black, irritating creatures need to get a life! All they do is eat and shit around. Ugh. Useless beings. &lt;br /&gt;***********************************************************&lt;br /&gt;I lost my cell, almost. And those 30 mins were the worst part of this week. I felt so handicapped without it. Like, there’s no reason to live anymore! My contacts, messages, pictures, videos ..i would have lost them ALL! Some asshole flicked it, switched it off and kept it somewhere in college while I was washing the shit off my hair. Thanks to the crows, again :\&lt;br /&gt;***********************************************************&lt;br /&gt;I saw something which solved my problems concerning this friend of mine. There are some people who live at the cost of making fun of others. They kinda rob u off your energy by saying and doing stuff making you feel really negative about yourself and there u go, that’s what gets them all charged up. Hmm, so I have this friend who exactly fits in this category and whenever I would talk to her ..she would leave me feeling really bad about myself and my life. Well, she has this 'awesome' effect on everyone. But now no more baby! I realised, there’s a certain way of talking to such people. You cant let them steal your energy and get away with it! You just cant! I finally hit the nail on the head and this time when I met her ..wahahhaa ..i wasn’t affected one bit! And im glad. Bring it on ;)&lt;br /&gt;***********************************************************&lt;br /&gt;I’m feeling very proud of myself today. No, not in the negative boastful way but just In the sense that I feel satisfied to see my growth In all these years and I just wish that it continues and doesn’t get stagnant. There's a lot to learn and implement. &lt;br /&gt;***********************************************************&lt;br /&gt;I Met some really genuinely sweet people recently. They just made me wonder how one could be that big-hearted. Yes, I met some bitches too but, that’s normal noh. &lt;br /&gt;***********************************************************&lt;br /&gt;Being happy without any damn reason makes you even happier :P&lt;br /&gt;***********************************************************&lt;br /&gt;I have never seen SO much cuteness together as much as I saw last week. Gosh, seriously! Cuteness, hotness..Whatever you want to call it! Where were all these people all this time maaaan!! I feel, they should be distributed well :P&lt;br /&gt;Its not done otherwise! Dont you think? ;)&lt;br /&gt;***********************************************************&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I see my 5 year old cousin, I feel like having a kid. He’s just so cute..Makes me want to raise a child up too. Guess that has to wait!&lt;br /&gt;***********************************************************&lt;br /&gt;If someone asks me to go and stay at Crossword for a year, I really wouldn’t mind! I can make that place my home and stay with those books! I can live on those pastries and sandwiches they offer in the coffee shop inside. Just me, my books ..and those pastries :)&lt;br /&gt;***********************************************************&lt;br /&gt;I’ve fallen in love with Bryan Adams all over again! I want someone to sing his songs to me ..now now now!!&lt;br /&gt;***********************************************************&lt;br /&gt;I saw my ex’s twin. Some random guy who looks exactly like my ex. I saw him sitting backstage and he looked so similar to him. Just before I could hide behind those curtains, that guy turned and *phew* ..it came out to be someone else!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okie, that was quite an update huh! Im tired. I shall go and get some sleep now.&lt;br /&gt;Tell me u missed me too ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: why is this post called chiggy wiggy? &lt;br /&gt;Aive hi! ‘I wana chiggy wiggy with u boy’ ;)&lt;br /&gt;Ciao.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;btw, im so happy to see the kind of response my previous post got. Its great to see so many different takes on attachment and all that. Thanks :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-5926423980741675054?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/5926423980741675054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=5926423980741675054' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/5926423980741675054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/5926423980741675054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/11/chiggy-wiggy.html' title='Chiggy Wiggy'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-6454851199102677062</id><published>2009-11-15T07:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-15T07:12:15.237-08:00</updated><title type='text'>???</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;The question is how to preserve the devotion and faithfulness of a relationship without giving in to neediness and attachment. What is required is a state called nonattachment. The word sounds like a synonym for detachment, implying indifference, but nonattachment is actually a state of freedom that preserves and even increases your love for another. Detachment is achieved by not caring, nonattachment is achieved by allowing, which shows tremendous care. Therefore, the insights that apply to nonattachment carry us deeper into the spiritual importance of letting go. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read this in some book. I read it like 5 times. I still don’t get how the right way to be in a relationship is to be in a state of 'nonattachment'. Maybe, there’s something important I’m missing out here. &lt;br /&gt;What do you guys think? &lt;br /&gt;Attachment? Detachment? Nonattachment? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From what I see, I can say that I &lt;strong&gt;can’t&lt;/strong&gt; help getting attached. &lt;br /&gt;And it’s just not fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-6454851199102677062?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/6454851199102677062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=6454851199102677062' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6454851199102677062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6454851199102677062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post.html' title='???'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-7732088051253493326</id><published>2009-11-12T01:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T01:06:24.024-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Main aur meri tanhaayi ..</title><content type='html'>I was just wondering ..&lt;br /&gt;If I had invested even half of my mind, energy and time into thinking about my studies and doing some career planning instead of thinking about EVERYTHING else, I would have had scored way better earlier (its not too late, but still ..)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess, its all about priorities ..but what do u do when u know what your priorities are but (at times) u wished they were different ..&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know what we’re supposed to do in such a state, but u sure turn out to look like this ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/SvvP1z4ncGI/AAAAAAAAACA/Gz2IKY-_rvk/s1600-h/hang.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/SvvP1z4ncGI/AAAAAAAAACA/Gz2IKY-_rvk/s320/hang.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403140701328732258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HANGING. Yes, what a lovely state that is :|&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: Its great fun to watch my Bengali and Marathi maid talk to each other in their own respective languages :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-7732088051253493326?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/7732088051253493326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=7732088051253493326' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/7732088051253493326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/7732088051253493326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/11/main-aur-meri-tanhaayi.html' title='Main aur meri tanhaayi ..'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/SvvP1z4ncGI/AAAAAAAAACA/Gz2IKY-_rvk/s72-c/hang.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-6532388343011171742</id><published>2009-11-05T09:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T09:20:53.059-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You cant make it feel right, when you know its wrong</title><content type='html'>How long can u hold on to something? There are times when you know things are not going right and a part of you tells you to let go and move on and then when you’re all prepared to do so ..you hear these voices inside your head telling you to stick with it and put up with the process. You opt for the easier way out ..and u agree. In a way, you test yourself ..”things might get fine, just some more days” ..you tell yourself. Day in and out, you come up with stuff to console yourself and make yourself believe that everything will be back to normal. Patience, that’s all you need. &lt;br /&gt;Sadly, that’s not &lt;strong&gt;all&lt;/strong&gt; ..Its a massive thing..this P-A-T-I-E-N-C-E. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, how long do you put up with this? The breaking point is bound to occur one day or the other..When u just can’t take it anymore. You’ve tested your patience enough. At the end, whats happened? Situations are the same, nothing’s changed, its just you who’s more screwed up than ever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the time, to get up..dust yourself and just let go. That one moment which makes u realise that you’ve been tightly holding on to something which was just not yours and maybe isn’t meant to be. A difficult phase but the time when you realise that the breaking point has arrived gives you a weird kind of happiness. You feel liberated. All these days, you were caged by your own thoughts..Now you’re free. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The concluding factor of this whole ‘mess’ is change. It sucks. Atleast, I completely detest it. That’s why, I always prefer sticking to something more ‘comforting’..Something that is more familiar to me ..only to realise its better to move on and let things be ..because im no one to change the way a person feels.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-6532388343011171742?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/6532388343011171742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=6532388343011171742' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6532388343011171742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6532388343011171742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/11/you-cant-make-it-feel-right-when-you.html' title='You cant make it feel right, when you know its wrong'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-4567884230649322624</id><published>2009-11-01T21:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T21:09:02.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I.Dont.Know.</title><content type='html'>Girl: what did u mean when u said that?&lt;br /&gt;Boy: I don’t know …&lt;br /&gt;G: like, what were u thinking? Were u serious?&lt;br /&gt;B: I don’t know ..i guess&lt;br /&gt;G: okay, what are u confused about? Tell me all&lt;br /&gt;B: umm, its weird ..i don’t know ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G wants to slap the shit out of him and push him into a well and never see his fucking face again ..but then all she manages to say is “okay”&lt;br /&gt;________________________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do guys never know anything? Hows it possible? If u don’t know, then who will! Do u expect me to read ur mind or something? Are u a 5 year old kid who’s having trouble deciding which toy he wants to buy! Wake up! We’re talking SERIOUS stuff out here dammit! I dont know how u do this 'i dont know' thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This I-Don’t-Know problem is so often seen among guys! U can never have a proper discussion with the overflow of ‘I don’t knows’ ..It just kills the mood. How much do u want the other person to extract stuff out of u? And then u ask ..why I am getting so serious! Serious?! Yes, its obviously not serious for u..Coz I’m the mindfucked one out here! Im the one who has to assume stuff and analyse what your different I-don’t-knows ‘might’ mean! ARGGHH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You OUGHT to know honey! You OUGHT to! The best way to avoid I-don’t-knows is to communicate. Just tell her all that you’re confused about. You’ll spare her the torture and those mind boggling sessions she’ll have because of YOU! Makes life so much more easier..doesn’t it? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Calm down. Breathe in. Breathe out.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. I so wish some kabootar could take this post and show it to the person who made me write it :(&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I had to vent it out and now im done. Im out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-4567884230649322624?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/4567884230649322624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=4567884230649322624' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/4567884230649322624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/4567884230649322624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/11/idontknow.html' title='I.Dont.Know.'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-7541163733626976075</id><published>2009-10-28T07:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T07:39:52.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bachaoo</title><content type='html'>A few habits which annoy me to the core!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ‘what’s up’ types!&lt;br /&gt;Ugh. Who invented this word? Whenever someone asks this question, the person is not really interested in knowing what’s actually happening in your life ..its merely a way to start a conversation(and then kill it)! Before even asking the question, u know what u’r gonna get back in return...And that’s "nothing ya, just normal stuff" &lt;br /&gt;I mean seriously, why would I even bother to tell some random friend ..this is up and that is up ..And blah blah blah. U’r not even interested so why the hell do u ask me such dumb questions!! &lt;br /&gt;What’s up is still fine..Recently a random person turned up and asked “so, what &lt;strong&gt;is&lt;/strong&gt; up?” I mean..Duh! “What’s up” toh theek tha, now what’s with the “what &lt;strong&gt;is&lt;/strong&gt; up” dude!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people have this annoying habit of coming weirdly close to u while talking. So close that u have no place to breathe! You’re like screaming for oxygen out there and that person expects u to have a proper conversation with him/her! There was a time when I actually tripped while moving away from the person. Like I kept going behind and *woops* I tripped over a stone! And he went like “omg! Careful” &lt;em&gt;..yeah right careful! U’ll attack me any second, how can I be careful :S&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another habit which irritates me is when people start getting too touchy! I have a space around me and I don’t like just anyone intruding it. Its creeps me out! I have a cousin who just cant keep her hands off people! The last time I went to her house, she actually slept all night hugging me ..and u can imagine how the night passed! Yes, I was unable to move ..i managed to sleep for like an hour or so! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then u have people who cant stop saying “what else”! After every sentence u say, they’ll go “so, what else”. ARGH. What do u want to hear! No, just tell me what u want to hear and ill say it and u can finally stop saying those two unbearable words! In some time, maybe before u even complete the sentence ..the person’s gonna go “what else?” :O&lt;br /&gt;*slap* &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last category I can think of now is that of those people who expect u to have no other work than to sit and call them every single day! Even if u’r talking to them after 2 days ..they’ll be like “You forgot me na! Aisa na. U cant even call! What ya!” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Seriously honey, im TRYING to forget u ..but kya kare, u just keep appearing :S&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why this sudden outburst of annoying habits? Well, its because I just met a friend who is blessed with all these qualities :D&lt;br /&gt;Huahaha! But who does not have annoying habits noh ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: Kareena’s hot man!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-7541163733626976075?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/7541163733626976075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=7541163733626976075' title='30 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/7541163733626976075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/7541163733626976075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/10/bachaoo.html' title='Bachaoo'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>30</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-3541469284692322881</id><published>2009-10-24T11:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T11:40:23.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why so grumpy?</title><content type='html'>“Some of us are sadomasochistic; some of us thrive on having our minds messed with, our hearts constantly in a churn of adrenalin. As long as our fix is met, of people who will play basketball with our hearts and minds, we somehow feel justified in being the victim. Well, I was done with being the victim. The credits had rolled, and I was now going to live the rest of my life.”&lt;br /&gt;                               -&lt;em&gt;You Are Here&lt;/em&gt; by Meenakshi Reddy Madhavan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This for me, is the best part of the book. I totally agree with it! Some of us are made that way. We have fun playing the ‘victim’..everytime. It gives us a weird kind of a high. I too was once upon a time a part of that league.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Times have changed. Im done blaming people for the various things that have happened. Im glad they occurred, for if it wasn’t for them and those assholes that came by and shook me, I wouldn’t be the way I am today. I needed that *shaking* from time to time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teenage years is the time when we start whining about every small thing happening to us ..and u know the “I like him but he likes my best friend” shit ..and ofcourse “why meeee!!” is like the most common dialogue used by people. I SO hate that line! Doesn’t make sense. Stop fretting people. Get a life. &lt;br /&gt;..and for some, that continues and u slowly start becoming that way. U get used to crying over stuff and having a hundred people console u &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a point of time when saying “im bugged” became a routine for me. In a day, I just had to say that line atleast once! Then one day, my friend asked me why was i SO bugged and that what went wrong ..and I just stared back blankly at her.&lt;br /&gt;lol, I didn’t know why I was bugged inspite of using it every single day!&lt;br /&gt;And from that day onwards, I stopped using that highly negative and depressing line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like some people have the habit of saying “im bored” ..they just cant do without it. They’re so used to saying that, that it eventually becomes a part of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So its always better to stop showing yourself as this totally bored, tired, irritated with life, why-me types personality ..&lt;br /&gt;U just spread negativity and nothing else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take a stand. If u dont like the way your life's turning out to be and u think it sucks, do something about it. Dont just complain. Gets u nowhere.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-3541469284692322881?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/3541469284692322881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=3541469284692322881' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/3541469284692322881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/3541469284692322881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/10/why-so-grumpy.html' title='Why so grumpy?'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-4776639024201571391</id><published>2009-10-20T01:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T01:55:47.128-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Think. Think. Think</title><content type='html'>People dont THINK and then they say that I over-think!&lt;br /&gt;I agree at times i do tend to over-think but duh ..not always! There is a thin line between thinking and over-thinking ..and over-thinking only gets in negativity but that shouldnt stop u from thinking. Introspection is such an important thing. U need to question urself every now and then ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People just avoid thinking and questioning themselves coz they're afraid to know themselves. Once u discover some things about yourself, u never knew ..it would require u to change those things which u've always believed in without any reason. This obviously is a huge task. Thus, why think! UGH. Unbelievable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the worst part is when some people close to u are like that ..&lt;br /&gt;it takes them ages to become aware of the things that are OBVIOUS to u!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: I dont suffer from a superiority complex ..but at times i cant help wondering why people are so dumb.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-4776639024201571391?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/4776639024201571391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=4776639024201571391' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/4776639024201571391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/4776639024201571391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/10/think-think-think.html' title='Think. Think. Think'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-7020215578035468692</id><published>2009-10-18T09:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T09:36:11.180-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pretty much clueless ..</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;I dont know where my life's heading ..i have absolutely NO clue :P&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I just know ..im having fun ..and im happy &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have NO plan whatsoever! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Half the people around me have every single step of theirs planned out ..right in front of their eyes ..and me ..im far from planning ..&lt;br /&gt;coz i dont think planning helps. Life just throws u stuff ..and there go ur 'plans' down the drain!&lt;br /&gt;But yes, they do make u feel much more secure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell me this is NORMAL!&lt;br /&gt;..those 'ambitious' ones out there must be giving me weird looks ..ahh, i know!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: STOP the fucking crackers! DIWALI is OVER people!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-7020215578035468692?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/7020215578035468692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=7020215578035468692' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/7020215578035468692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/7020215578035468692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/10/pretty-much-clueless.html' title='Pretty much clueless ..'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-8542013932260886265</id><published>2009-10-13T09:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T08:43:08.485-08:00</updated><title type='text'>*Freeze*</title><content type='html'>Why do people leave? Why does everything come to an end one day? I mean, everything’s so very perfect ..and then one day ..the world turns upside down ..and u lose all that u loved so dearly. This sucks.&lt;br /&gt;I know im supposed to enjoy and cherish every moment and live in the present and blah blah ..but I cant stop such passing thoughts from coming my way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: Cant I just have a world which only includes people I love ..minus all those impurities! Okay, I know I sound dumb but im feeling so helpless.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-8542013932260886265?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/8542013932260886265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=8542013932260886265' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/8542013932260886265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/8542013932260886265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/10/freeze.html' title='*Freeze*'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-197425480652869453</id><published>2009-10-10T11:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T11:07:24.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Huh? What? When?</title><content type='html'>A and B were happily watching MTV when B threw a big, round, black cushion at A. The cushion hit A right on her face. A threw it back at B. This went on until A got irritated and told B to stop. They continued watching tv and then something came into B and he suddenly got up and pressed the cushion on A’s face! A was in for a shock and was fuming with anger..one, because she was drooling over Ben Affleck (OMG!!) when B played this stupid prank ..two, A JUST couldn’t breathe! As A couldn’t see a thing, she started moving her legs and hands frenetically! And then finally, B stopped! “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH U!”,A screamed! B was laughing hysterically! “Chill, it was a joke!” he said between his laughs! After he was done laughing ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B: but u shoudnt have slapped me! Relax yaar, it was a just a joke!&lt;br /&gt;A: whaaat? I didn’t slap u!&lt;br /&gt;B: ofcourse u did ..u slapped me hard!&lt;br /&gt;A: no I didn’t!&lt;br /&gt;B: u kicked me in the groin and u slapped me as well!&lt;br /&gt;A: craaaap!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[and this argument continued! Both of them were furious at each other. A got up and left, disgusted.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For all those who haven’t figured it out ..yeah, A is me :S&lt;br /&gt;and im still wondering ..if I did slap and kick him that hard! I feel as though I was drugged or something coz I swear I don’t remember doing anything like that!&lt;br /&gt;Lol, this is pretty comical! He’s like the 2nd person I’ve slapped (my brother being the first) :D&lt;br /&gt;..and seriously, if I intended to slap him ..i would have slapped him harder :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what do u do when something like this happens?! :O&lt;br /&gt;Apologize? But for what o_o&lt;br /&gt;Trust me, im still trying to remember!&lt;br /&gt;Haha ..coz I just remember my hands and legs moving in the air! I mean, if u slap someone, aren’t u supposed to feel it! DUH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: and no, im not a violent person. I don’t indulge in such ‘hatha payi’ every second day :P&lt;br /&gt;Im a peace-loving person! But when I get down to slapping and kicking ..im pretty GOOD ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-197425480652869453?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/197425480652869453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=197425480652869453' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/197425480652869453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/197425480652869453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-didnt-know-i-slapped-you.html' title='Huh? What? When?'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-4326250459807150518</id><published>2009-10-07T05:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T10:18:39.284-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just one look enough ..to ruin my day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;WARNING: A lengthy post ahead. Not funny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lovely weather. Got up early for a change. Finished everything on time.. smoothly. Reached the bus stop. Got a good seat. I was on my way to meet a friend. Travelling by the BRTS bus is always a pleasure..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very happy with the way the day started, I plugged in my iPod and looked out of the bus window. Just then, I received a message and while I was replying, I looked up and *THUD* ..I saw &lt;em&gt;him&lt;/em&gt;. I didn’t believe what I saw ..rather I didn’t WANT to believe what I saw. &lt;em&gt;Am I hallucinating? Or is he really in the same bus as mine! Oh fuck. He is and I want to jump out!! Dammit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There he was in that blue t-shirt of his, my ‘darling' ex. His hairstyle had changed. He was looking so different. So wicked (or was it just me?!). I saw him after a full gap of 6 months. I quickly looked away. I don’t even know if he saw me, for all I care! I saw him and I hated it. The bus started. I did want to turn behind and see where he was but I didn’t. I’ve done too many silly things as far as he is concerned...so yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The music was playing in my ears but I didn’t get a WORD. My thoughts went places. I suddenly felt very ‘small’. There was a time when I increased the volume to the fullest possible just so that my thoughts get obstructed but it was no use. I kept getting that horrible feeling. Sharing the same space with him became so difficult. I just wanted to dig myself way below the ground. Like way below. I hate being reminded of his existence. Suddenly, I started coughing frantically. It just wouldn’t stop. &lt;em&gt;Oh, bloody hell! Not now!&lt;/em&gt; And then the funniest thing happened.. I had tears rolling down my cheeks. &lt;em&gt;Is it because of the coughing or Am I actually crying? Oh shit!&lt;/em&gt; To make matters worse, the aunty beside me just HAD to stare! &lt;em&gt;Leave me alone!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the way my life is right now but even the look of him is enough to spoil my day. Yes, we ended on a very ugly note. After grade 12, I wanted to to leave Bombay. One of the major reasons was so that I don’t see him anymore. Sadly, that didn’t happen. I’m here and so is he.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m still trying to figure out why I feel this way whenever he’s around. Why can’t I look at him in the eye! Why do I avoid him! Why do I still give a shit to his presence! I never&lt;em&gt; loved&lt;/em&gt; him. I was just plain used to him. Some weird kind of attachment for no reason..Which I don’t think ill ever have with anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;I feel, the way our relationship ended was very incomplete. I have a lot left to say but he doesn’t care anymore. He doesn’t give a rat’s ass. He has moved on very well. Even I have but such small instances disturb me.&lt;em&gt; I suck.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I’m giving him the power to hurt me. But trust me, I can’t help it. The feeling’s still there and I guess ill just wait for it to disappear. As usual..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;He’s still special. And god, he looked so cute.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S: Whenever I think a lot about him, he just appears. It happened this time too. Weird.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-4326250459807150518?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/4326250459807150518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=4326250459807150518' title='33 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/4326250459807150518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/4326250459807150518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/10/just-one-look-enough-to-ruin-my-day.html' title='Just one look enough ..to ruin my day!'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>33</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-5390081083902215287</id><published>2009-10-03T22:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T22:48:33.583-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random.</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, my friend and I were sitting in the canteen and she starting singing ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D: Wake up sid, saare paanch baje..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: huh? What? Sing it again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D: why? Wake up sid, saare paanch baje (she said it again so casually.. like nothing was wrong)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..when I heard this and saw the expression on her face, I burst into fits of laughter! Laughed like a total maniac. Finally, I managed to tell her that its wake up sid, saare pal kahe and not saare paanch baje for god’s sake!&lt;br /&gt;And she was like “oh ya?! I didn’t know! But ..saare paanch baje also fits na?:P”&lt;br /&gt;LMAAAAOO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waise, it does..&lt;br /&gt;“wake up sid, saare paanch baje&lt;br /&gt;wake up sid, chal kahi chale…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cant help laughing my ass off when people mess up the lyrics of some song! :D&lt;br /&gt;Its just really very amusing to hear!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;Btw, wake up sid. Go watch. Amazing. Ok not so amazing. Im biased coz I adore Ranbir. But go for it. One time watch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-5390081083902215287?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/5390081083902215287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=5390081083902215287' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/5390081083902215287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/5390081083902215287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/10/yesterday-my-friend-and-i-were-sitting.html' title='Random.'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-7724603719395958443</id><published>2009-10-02T02:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T03:04:05.038-07:00</updated><title type='text'>*phew</title><content type='html'>Blogger's gone mad&lt;br /&gt;dont trouble me so much blogger! -_-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just got to know that comments werent being processed here :O&lt;br /&gt;now its fine :)&lt;br /&gt;i dont know what went wrong though. I just changed a few random settings o_O&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-7724603719395958443?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/7724603719395958443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=7724603719395958443' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/7724603719395958443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/7724603719395958443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/10/phew.html' title='*phew'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-5423906413274095601</id><published>2009-09-28T06:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T06:40:09.368-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Silly, silly me!</title><content type='html'>Have u guys ever experienced those what-the-fuck-was-I-thinking moments?! U know, where u look back on all those years and laugh at yourself for doing stuff u just cant believe u did!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it’s happened to me SO many times!&lt;br /&gt;I just feel like listing a few :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;·      I was just cleaning my cupboard a few days back and I stumbled upon this old photo album. I came across some photographs of myself when I was like 12 or 13..and I couldn’t believe my eyes! There was this picture of me..wearing this weird dress which I can’t believe I wore! And that silly hairstyle! I mean, which world was I in! But I must say, my fashion sense has come a long way now ..haha! Im glad :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;·      My list of crushes! Lol, when I think about them now I just can’t help laughing at myself. Seriously, WHAT was I thinking :O&lt;br /&gt;One of them looks so gay now (that was mean but really!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;·      And this people, is like the HUGEST what-the-fuck-was-i-thinking moment..the time when I told my friends that I was about to say a yes to R(who’s my ex now) and they were like “are u sure?” (considering how different my ex and i were. I mean we were on totally different wavelengths but well don’t get me started on that) and I was like (with FULL conviction) “ya baba, ill break up by next month. next month, 17th ..done! ill just say yes now”&lt;br /&gt;How smart I thought I was! Balls! Forget breaking up on the 17th ..it took me almost a full fucking year to get over him after we actually broke up! I was so MAD! So idiotic to even think I was that brave :S&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aah, such bizarre things happen and all I can do now is LAUGH&lt;br /&gt;..at my stupidity :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silly me, oh so silly i was :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-5423906413274095601?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/5423906413274095601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=5423906413274095601' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/5423906413274095601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/5423906413274095601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/09/silly-silly-me.html' title='Silly, silly me!'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-4866624587088219459</id><published>2009-09-25T04:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T10:38:24.279-07:00</updated><title type='text'>From plans to no plans ..</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I have plans. Great plans for my life. My greatest fear is that things won’t turn out the way I want them to. That scares the shit out of me at times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when I think about it calmly, I realize that till date not everything has shaped up the way I thought it would..And guess what..Im still alive and kickin’ :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, there are moments. The ‘not-so-happy’ moments ..Times when u feel really helpless and disappointed, when u don’t know where ur life’s heading and u don’t see the point of continuing this ‘struggle’ anymore! Such tiring times come and whether u let them remain and rust is a choice u make.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I feel like just going with the flow. Like letting yourself totally loose and just taking what life gives u. Im getting the hang of it slowly and I must say its fun. Really exciting. U feel like ur whole life’s one big adventure! Take risks, live every moment to the fullest! Speaking about risks, I just remembered a part of this conversation I had with a friend.&lt;br /&gt;We were talking about something (I cant really remember what) and she said “how can u experiment with your life! Cmon, its just one life u’ve got!” and I was like “Doooode! That’s the point!”&lt;br /&gt;And she went :S&lt;br /&gt;[Okay, both of us are on totally different wavelengths :D]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yup! So im on my way to enjoy this beautiful journey :)&lt;br /&gt;and I just want to be haaaappy &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;*does a dance while singing .."Happy Happy Joy Joy Happy Happy Joy Joy"*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;haha! ciao&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;P.S: btw "Happy Happy Joy Joy Happy Happy Joy Joy" is this really crappy song wherein this silly little cartoon &lt;strong&gt;tries &lt;/strong&gt;to teach us how to be happy or some shit like that ..i forgot o_O&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-4866624587088219459?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/4866624587088219459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=4866624587088219459' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/4866624587088219459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/4866624587088219459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/09/from-plans-to-no-plans.html' title='From plans to no plans ..'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-4294420514499569872</id><published>2009-09-17T21:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T21:34:28.222-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just 5 more minutes! Pleaaaaseee!</title><content type='html'>This is how all my mornings begin:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4:55 a.m&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;hmm, I have 5 more minutes. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Snooze&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5:00 a.m&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I can sleep for 10 more minutes. I wont be late. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Snooze&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5:15 a.m&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I wont shampoo my hair today. Its not even oily. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Snooze&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5:30 a.m&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;arey yaar! I'll take the rick instead of the bus. &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Snooze&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5:45 a.m&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;WTF. When did it become 5:45! How am I gonna get ready in 20 minutes :O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*switches of the alarm and runs for the loo*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..and my whole day goes this way..running!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;__________________________________________________________&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suffer from a problem. I can’t wake up in the morning. It JUST doesn’t happen. U wake me up at 6, its too early..u wake me up at 8, its too early ..and even if u wake me up at 11, its STILL too early!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mornings start with me battling with my alarm clock and my phone and my mind which keeps wanting to sleep more and more! My mum, my poor poor mum loses an extra hour of her sleep to wake me up! I feel so meaaan :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But trust me I’ve tried everything! I’ve tried putting all kinds of weird songs as my alarm tone but gradually my ears got adapted to every fucking song! Then I tried putting an ugly alarm clock(with an uglier tone) on top of the cupboard but ..i didn’t end up hearing it :S&lt;br /&gt;There have been times when I’ve asked my friends to give me wake-up calls and talk for a few minutes so that im all UP ..but even that didn’t work! I slept through all their calls :((&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gimme solutions people! It gives me the creeps to think about the time when I’ll have office and ill be staying alone..what am I going to do! Who’s going to wake me up :O&lt;br /&gt;Ill be fired on the first day itself! Sheeeeeeeet!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-4294420514499569872?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/4294420514499569872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=4294420514499569872' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/4294420514499569872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/4294420514499569872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/09/just-5-more-minutes-pleaaaaseee.html' title='Just 5 more minutes! Pleaaaaseee!'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-4305784733874929266</id><published>2009-09-12T10:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T10:19:29.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>oh sheeeeeet! :P</title><content type='html'>Okay! I have a blog name and I haven’t given out my real name..as yet.&lt;br /&gt;The reason being that im more comfortable this way and if I feel the need to reveal my identity someday here, I will :)&lt;br /&gt;So just when I thought I was doing a good job and that none of my friends who blog or read blogs came across mine ..this happened..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets name this friend of mine M and below is a part of our conversation about 'Pebbles'..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;M: oh btw! Do u like have a blog? U didn’t even give me the link!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: me? Blog? No ways! I told u earlier that im too lazy to start one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M: seriously? I came across this blog and this girl sounded so much like u! ditto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: really? Oh okay! So did u play pool today? (&lt;/em&gt;topic change! Topic change!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M: no not today. Got bored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: aah, 2 days and u get bored!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M: check it out! Just check it out &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;em&gt;www.dumdee-dee.blogspot.com&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Me: (&lt;/em&gt;guhreat! He’s giving me the link to my OWN blog&lt;em&gt;) oh ya ok ..later&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M: NOW! Cmon, I gtg in 5 mins! Just read her posts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:&lt;/em&gt; (*argh*) &lt;em&gt;arey yaar! Okay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[I don’t reply for 10 minutes. Pretending to read this ‘girl’s’ blog]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M: done? The bobby deol thing, Ben Affleck, the SRK thing, those quotes u forced me to read  and her excited views on marriage! Total U!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: so?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M: she writes just the way u do. Weird. I thought it was u by the end of it. Okay, I gtg. Cya later&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha, he knows me really well I must say :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So, M if u’r reading this..Yeah, oRange* is indeed ..ME :)&lt;br /&gt;Ya ya, call me when u’r done reading this&lt;br /&gt;And I even know the trail of questions that will follow :P&lt;br /&gt;Ciao.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-4305784733874929266?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/4305784733874929266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=4305784733874929266' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/4305784733874929266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/4305784733874929266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/09/oh-sheeeeeet-p.html' title='oh sheeeeeet! :P'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-7715237110150122392</id><published>2009-09-09T10:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T11:01:33.264-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Expecting- my favourite hobby!</title><content type='html'>Now tell me, if u’r close to someone how the fuck do u NOT get attached? I mean, seriously! Isn’t that human nature or am I the only idiot who seems to get attached to every passer by (ok not any passer by, but yeah u get me right?)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;U get attached and then u have a bundle of expectations from that person and when that person doesn’t act accordingly..*booom*! There goes ur mood..ur entire day(sometimes week) is destroyed! And what’s frustrating is that I very conveniently allow someone to do that!&lt;br /&gt;Damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im trying to not expect but HELL, its difficult! Its shit difficult. It drives me nuts. I hate expecting. I hate it but I can’t help it!&lt;br /&gt;Im in the process but why is it taking ages!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moreover, what’s worse is when the person u’r 'expecting' things from is a complete opposite. Like completely. He does not even know what expectations mean ..THAT different! U feel like a complete dumbass then! Now, if he does not get attached to anyone (I don’t know how, but whatever..) that’s not my problem!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, is that the way to go about it? Not get attached to anyone in the first place? But isn’t that sad? Or is that the key to be freed from such mood spoilers?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone knows how to handle this, please enlighten me! &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff33;"&gt;Im highly pissed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;At myself&lt;br /&gt;At him&lt;br /&gt;At everybody!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BLAH.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-7715237110150122392?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/7715237110150122392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=7715237110150122392' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/7715237110150122392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/7715237110150122392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/09/expecting-my-favourite-hobby.html' title='Expecting- my favourite hobby!'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-6733697440186335918</id><published>2009-08-31T10:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T10:50:58.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I feel like..</title><content type='html'>..like acting with SRK in a &lt;strong&gt;PROPER&lt;/strong&gt; commercial hindi movieee!&lt;br /&gt;u know, like running around trees and all that :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yaaaaay.&lt;br /&gt;are u listening? huh? huh? huh? Sharooooookh, i loveeee!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-6733697440186335918?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/6733697440186335918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=6733697440186335918' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6733697440186335918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6733697440186335918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-feel-like.html' title='I feel like..'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-2672587885857404380</id><published>2009-08-30T04:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-30T04:23:55.554-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Its high time</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Its time I set my priorities straight..&lt;br /&gt;Its time i know what’s long-lived and whats not..&lt;br /&gt;Its time I understand the importance of the time I have now..&lt;br /&gt;Its time I start making the best use of the opportunities given to me..&lt;br /&gt;Its time I start living at the moment and not give a fuck to whats going to happen tomorrow..&lt;br /&gt;Its time I stop questioning all that’s happening and start enjoying life..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;p.s: I feel like going to the terrace and singing 'I'm Alive' :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;When you bless the day, I just drift away,  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;All my worries die, I'm glad that I'm alive!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-2672587885857404380?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/2672587885857404380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=2672587885857404380' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/2672587885857404380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/2672587885857404380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/08/its-high-time.html' title='Its high time'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-1832433931213547254</id><published>2009-08-28T10:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T10:12:45.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cho chweet</title><content type='html'>Bade achhe lagte hain,&lt;br /&gt;yeh dhartee..&lt;br /&gt;yeh nadiyaaan..&lt;br /&gt;yeh raiinaa..&lt;br /&gt;aur tummm :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cuteness!  ♥&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-1832433931213547254?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/1832433931213547254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=1832433931213547254' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/1832433931213547254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/1832433931213547254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/08/cho-chweet.html' title='Cho chweet'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-1599840536374027317</id><published>2009-08-27T02:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T03:13:35.731-07:00</updated><title type='text'>*drools*</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://tikulicious.files.wordpress.com/2009/06/ben_affleck_04.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 538px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 600px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://tikulicious.files.wordpress.com/2009/06/ben_affleck_04.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OH-MY-GOD! He's just so supercalifragilisticexpialidociously sexy!&lt;br /&gt;He just makes me swooooon :D&lt;br /&gt;damn damn damn!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-1599840536374027317?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/1599840536374027317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=1599840536374027317' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/1599840536374027317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/1599840536374027317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/08/drools.html' title='*drools*'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-5191524451108112702</id><published>2009-08-26T23:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T23:57:13.864-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ah, so hyped up!</title><content type='html'>Marriage ..wow, what an overrated word! Seriously.&lt;br /&gt;My views about marriage have taken quite a few drastic turns over the last couple of years. Some years back, I would get so excited about getting married. I seemed to love everything about it that time. The whole ceremony stuff, the shopping, the gifts, all the people coming in to be a part of your BIG day ..oh sure, MY SOOOOPER BIG DAY :)&lt;br /&gt;And ofcourse , most importantly ..u get to spend the rest of ur life with the guy u ‘love’ ..and then come kids and blah blah blah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now, I don’t feel the same anymore. I mean, I still want to get married but a hell lotta questions come up in my mind! Why is this word given so much importance?!&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that if u don’t get married by the time u’r 30 ..people go ‘haaaaaw!’&lt;br /&gt;Yes, a ‘normal’ life would be to get married and have kids at ofcourse the ‘right’ times ..but duh, who made it that way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve heard guys say ..”ya, I like dating bad girls but I think I would want to marry a good girl” ..wtf! no really, WTF :S&lt;br /&gt;Do things change after marriage? Do people just change overnight thinking that they are now married? If no, then why such statements?!&lt;br /&gt;What if u guys don’t gel well? Isn’t that important! I mean, u freaking have to spend ur whole life with her! What if things don’t work out!&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I know there’s divorce but duh ..my point is that we need not go through all the complications before marriage if we just take wise decisions before taking sucha step.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, now lets jump to my issues with marriage! Im just scared. Scared, not of commitment but scared if we fall out of love after getting married. U know, the whole taking each other for granted thing. It happens, I’ve seen couples around ..unhappy couples who just don’t feel the same about each other anymore. They’re just too busy with their professional lives and handling their kids that living with each other becomes like a duty for them. Now, that’s miserable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just hope, im able to find someone ..who’s right for me, like bang on! only then I think, will I marry. sometimes I wonder if im expecting too much..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea how things are going to turn out 10 years from now and how people close to me will react to my decisions but I just hope I have the courage to stand up for what I believe is right for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn! Im excited to see whats in store for me and after all this, what i will actually end up doing :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;..oh, I have a lot to say about kids as well but I guess ill keep it for later! Toodles&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-5191524451108112702?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/5191524451108112702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=5191524451108112702' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/5191524451108112702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/5191524451108112702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/08/ah-so-much-hype-for-nothing.html' title='ah, so hyped up!'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-323868197318881266</id><published>2009-08-24T22:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T22:31:06.615-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sob</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Sometimes u cry, just for the sake of it..&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sometimes u want cry like crazy. the times when u'r just too screwed and the best way to vent it out would be to cry. so u try really hard to weep but not a fucking drop comes out!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sometimes u know u'r just going to burst out crying near all those people and before u can even try to stop them..whaaaaaaaam, there come your tears rolling down! just so embarrassing. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;damn. that sucks. its like someone else has control over my tear glands -_-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:78%;"&gt;btw, have u guys heard 'cry' by rihanna? its faaab :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-323868197318881266?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/323868197318881266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=323868197318881266' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/323868197318881266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/323868197318881266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/08/sob.html' title='sob'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-1626715941627675978</id><published>2009-08-22T23:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T23:29:51.887-07:00</updated><title type='text'>*slap</title><content type='html'>i deserve a slap, a tight slap&lt;br /&gt;i just talk too much. blabber any shit without thinking.&lt;br /&gt;wtf, do i always have to mould my words depending on the person im talking to :S&lt;br /&gt;thats so frustrating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;especially when it comes to guys ..i mean, i do talk freely about sex and stuff ..does that give wrong signals? maybe it does ..but i cant help it&lt;br /&gt;oh GAWD. spare me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-1626715941627675978?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/1626715941627675978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=1626715941627675978' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/1626715941627675978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/1626715941627675978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/08/slap.html' title='*slap'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-6706403679914292369</id><published>2009-08-19T03:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T03:24:49.167-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts..</title><content type='html'>Some amazing extracts stolen from Brida..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'We dont look for an answer, we accept and then life becomes much more intense, much more brilliant because we understand that each minute, each step that we take, has a meaning that goes far beyond us as individuals. We realise that somehwere in time and space this question does have an answer. We realise that there is a reason for us being here and for us that is enough. We surrender ourselves fully to each moment, knowing that there is always a hand to guide us and whether we accept it or not is entirely up to us.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'True love allowed each person to follow their own path, knowing that they would never lose touch with their soulmate. Sooner or later, they would be together.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'At the time of orgasm, the five senses vanish and you enter the world of magic. You can no longer see, hear, taste, touch or smell. During those long seconds, everything disappears, to be replaced by ectasy..'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-6706403679914292369?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/6706403679914292369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=6706403679914292369' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6706403679914292369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/6706403679914292369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/08/thoughts.html' title='Thoughts..'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-8872590734804385333</id><published>2009-08-17T11:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T11:40:56.495-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me and my love for Bobby Deol.</title><content type='html'>yes, Bobby Deol :)&lt;br /&gt;before u think im totally crazy to like bobby deol, just hear me out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the guy's actually really sweet. i think he's highly misunderstood. yes, he cant dance nor does he act that well and he isnt that much of a great looker too but still :P&lt;br /&gt;i mean, i pity him. so many years in the industry but people hardly like him. imagine the pressure people! being dharmendra's son and all that :D&lt;br /&gt;i so wish he gets good movies..rather movies in his kitty!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;note to bobby:&lt;br /&gt;if at any point of time u need a supporter, im always there. go bobby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;'Soldier, soldier..meethi baatein bolkar, dilko chura legaya'&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;okay, that movie wasnt thaaaaaat bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cant believe I was that bored&lt;br /&gt;o_O&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-8872590734804385333?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/8872590734804385333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=8872590734804385333' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/8872590734804385333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/8872590734804385333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/08/me-and-my-love-for-bobby-deol.html' title='Me and my love for Bobby Deol.'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-8777351296143645613</id><published>2009-08-17T11:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T11:28:21.262-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Honesty?</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Honesty is the best policy. being honest is being 'good'. you must always say the truth. lying is 'bad'.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've heard all this a million times but how true is it?! personally, i dont believe in saying the truth always. before just blurting out the truth, i feel its very important to gauge the situation first. why should we always stick to the truth if the people listening arent ready for it? will they accept u inspite of hearing the truth? if not, then whats the need to say the truth and screw things up!&lt;br /&gt;i dont understand why people go on and on about 'being truthful' if they arent prepared to hear it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i lie. its not a habit but i've lied quite a number of times. most of the times to save both me and the other person from all the complications that would arise because of this small, insignificant truth.&lt;br /&gt;at the same time, i dont think one should lie about major things. major here meaning, somethings which will affect your and the other person's life. so it basically depends on how big a truth u'r hiding.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-8777351296143645613?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/8777351296143645613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=8777351296143645613' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/8777351296143645613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/8777351296143645613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/08/honesty.html' title='Honesty?'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-3277545011501322999</id><published>2009-08-16T00:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T00:10:42.157-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sundays..</title><content type='html'>..i hateeee! i dread sundays :(&lt;br /&gt;whats so good about sundays? the weekend's over (barely a weekend though when u've got college on saturdays as well) and sundays leave me totally bored and irritated. at the end of the day, i just feel fat coz most sundays are spent at home, hogging!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the next week should be smooth. college im assuming should reopen on wednesday. i really dont mind if they extend it till next monday or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i recently heard some college students cribbing about how their portion wont get over because of the strike and this swine flu shit.&lt;br /&gt;wtf!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-3277545011501322999?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/3277545011501322999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=3277545011501322999' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/3277545011501322999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/3277545011501322999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/08/sundays.html' title='Sundays..'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-410566061514713104.post-292044741312100048</id><published>2009-08-15T23:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T23:27:56.719-07:00</updated><title type='text'>:)</title><content type='html'>okay people, im new to the blogging world. feels damn nice to create ur own blog and fill in all those small details they ask for. its like ur baby :)&lt;br /&gt;but seriously i didnt know so much work goes into creating blogs. i've made several attempts before and all the times i was too lazy to finish. procastination yes, my other name!&lt;br /&gt;well well, i really dont know how ill pull this off but writing's always been a hobby so lets see!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s: i suck at keeping names. hence, this totally absurd link and blog name.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/410566061514713104-292044741312100048?l=dumdee-dee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/feeds/292044741312100048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=410566061514713104&amp;postID=292044741312100048' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/292044741312100048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/410566061514713104/posts/default/292044741312100048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dumdee-dee.blogspot.com/2009/08/blog-post.html' title=':)'/><author><name>oRange*</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03239294667530000687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_wK4Eeu4WkMY/S7druWjir5I/AAAAAAAAAIY/wau-9uFAy9Q/S220/wateR.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
