I talk, eat, sleep and also err ... blog?

As I rode on my bicycle after a snail paced day at office, I couldn't help miss the look on the faces of my neighbours in cars. What were they thinking? ... wow! cool bike .. Or .. bike? what a looser. As hard it was to figure that out, harder was the tag on my apartment door. It said "Flowers for you delivered at the reception". Now I wouldn't mind a secret admirer, but what would she admire about? ... how well I manage without any furniture? or the minimum 3 wides I bowl every over? or the shape of my chapattis? I rushed to Missy (the receptionist) to collect the flowers ... with a smile she said ... "Oh! I didn't even see the name ... soooorrrryyyy". It was for Mr.Young, previous resident of #209. "I never thought I'll buy a Calvin Klein", I said. "Yeah and I never thought I'll fly", said BG (Deepak BG actually, my college buddy and host in NY), as we sat down to empty the 1 giga bytes of memories in the camera onto the l

I felt that I was busy to write this email for more than a couple of weeks now. Hmm .. lets see why ... Twice to Charleston, moved to my new appartment, thrice to Al-Chico the mexican restaurant (courtesy my ever young project manager, Patty, who thought thursdays nights were mexican nights), four times to Walmart, bought a bicycle, planned a NY trip, twice to second-hand furniture shops and my first ever league cricket match at Charlotte. Seems busy eh? Oh yeah also, since I was left with just $3 in cash and two $500 american express traveler's cheques, which no one wanted to encash unless I had a bank account, I opened a bank account too. And a mexican wife. MEXICAN WIFE! ... ok, let me explain. I was caught half-naked in my hotel room by an unsuspecting mexican room service girl. After a lot of "sorry"s from her and "no problem"s from me, I hurried down stairs to tell this to my buddies who were ready with a story which went ... every mexican girl marri

Aaaithalla ... anthu america ge bande ... a thing of dream proportions, but not really a dream. From not boarding a flight in 24 years to 4 flights in 24 hours (ok i'm 25, but it sounds better) .. the excitement hid the strain called "jet lag" for the next 48 hrs. With my fears of over weight bagages now behind me, i was all ready to look down from the sky ... i liked it in the night. The only ones i made friends on this journey were my neighbours in seat from paris to atlanta, an old Romanian couple. Mostly sign language and helping tear open salted peanut packets for them. The Alps were a sight to watch ... it was hard to distinguish the snow capped mountain tips from the clouds ... "naa clouds can't be soo sharp, must be alps". I pity the pilots of trans-atlantic flights, for 10 hours all they get to see are clouds ... atleast we get to sleep. "America is clean" - my first impression. People here are very courteous ... they say hi and wis