Scribble from Seattle 3.9

The fall brings with it many things. A fresh beginning, bittersweet transition from summer to winter, rain(and a lot of it if you are in Seattle),pumpkin patches,the oncoming cricket season down under,the initial hiccups in Chelsea's season(but guess who is still on top!!), more jazz music,Barrack winning the Nobel within 9 months (too slow if you ask me!), the urge to constantly drink tea and absorb the warm hues that inhabit the foliage. The last bit is interesting to me, the fact that colours in this season are actually of the warm kind; its as if trees are holding on to the last bit of the warmth that summer bought to them before the winter sets in. But enough of my poor attempts at poetic jargon. Fact that matters is that Lackadaisical E. is back(i know. i was shocked too with that one)

Sitting in our new U District apartment's balcony, looking at a falling sun trying hard to match the colours of the fallen leaves, smoking the nth rolled up Gauloises, drinking n+1 th cup of Darjeeling and I wonder,what fuck do poets smoke?

People keep asking me why do I only write one blog a quarter(ok! only my ma asked) and so I decided to script a SFS 3.9. Why 3.9? As it will be the only time a 3.9 will be associated with anything I do while I am in college. 3.9 is also like a step back from 4, because it is one. Not because this blog sucks more than the last one (please!) but because it is a calmer and much more serene me writing, alright I am joking. I am just drunk!! But seriously the revelation that my dear ma reads excited me a lot, I officially have a readership of more than 1 (excluding those who I force read). Mum is the word people!

So fighting 20 hours worth of jet lag and general bad sleeping habits by drinking copious amount of ethanol, it hit me that sophomore year has actually started. And being the one who always introspects on such occasions and then immediately realises that its pointless doing so after 5 glasses of pinot noir, I decided its time to sober up and write. Now do'nt be dumbfounded, the writer of this piece is not going forgo the frequent states of inebriation that have so typified much of the subject matter.But instead its a case of recording many of the various brainwaves that I undergo during the moments in between those blurry periods.

This quarter with a full load of classes, stage managing a play called References to Salvador Dali Makes Me Hot( which is an awesome name, I mean why can't people make more names likes this; for example Dizzy Gillespe Dropped a Diamond or Andy Warhol Makes My Pudding.), making sure my roommates are sober, training for the Seattle half marathon, football,cooking,drinking those wines, attending them jazz concerts, hitting on that girl in the back of the cafe, sobering up from all those wines,hw and still having the emotional energy to call my grandad on his 75th birthday. And you know what its only in college you can do that with a negative bank balance and still plan that backpacking trip to Sydney for Christmas.

This fucked up yet enumerating journey continues...