Teehee

The picture on my phone lock screen. Always makes me laugh! 😁

Am I weird, or am I wired?

So I was washing my face today, and like I’m sure everyone else does, whether weird or no, I had closed my eyes. And because my eyes didn’t have anything to do, my mind kicked into action, and I started thinking about how my face looked, and where the latest blemish is, etc. Then I tried to visualize my face, and in my mind I saw this face. In my mind, this was supposed to be my face. MINE! (Well actually, she’s a model, a celebrity cook, and she recently appeared in MasterChef Australia and cooked a yummy, fab cake, so probably my mind was trying to tell me something…) Anyway, my mind actually thinks this is what my face looks like.

And then, whenever I’m not humming or talking or eating, or thinking, I’m constantly saying “agar agar” in my head. (I recently heard that on MasterChef, and I can’t get it out of my head now. I actually think there’s too much MasterChef viewing in this house.) Anyhow, I reaally like the sound of it. You can try it yourself. Try saying “agar agar” in different tones. Not aloud, just in your head. Say it like you would say the letter ‘a’ while reciting the alphabet. Then gar. With a short a. Then say it again while draaagging the second ‘a’. ‘a-gaaaaar a-gaaaaar’. Then again, agarrrrr agarrrrr.’ ‘aaaagah aaaagah.’ ‘agaaah agaaah.’ etc. It’s a silent stress buster. Therapeutic. It’s silences your mind. Trust me.

In other news, my sister thinks if I have to be a tree, I’ll have to be a bonsai of a bonsai. (This coming from someone who’s about an inch and a half taller than me.) (I’m guessing she’ll just be a bonsai then.) So I’ll be Bonsai Bonsai and she’ll be Bonsai. Nice.

Wonder what kind of a tree I’ll be though. I’d really really love to be an Ashwatha tree, because that’s my most favorite tree in the whooole world, but I’m afraid it won’t really be in my hands, would it. Things like this are usually predestined, and I’ll just have to be whatever tree I’m assigned to be, I guess. (I really would love to be an Ashwatha tree though. My beautiful heart-shaped leaves swaying and dancing in the tiniest of breezes, little kids plucking my leaves to dry them between books, little known artists creating Krishna and Ganesha paintings on my dried leaves…)

I think as a reward, I’ve been blessed with an equally weird offspring. The other day, in a too-much-love-pouring-out-of-Mother-India moment, I bit her chubby soft cheeks and said, “I sure don’t want any artificial marshmallows. This marshmallow is enough for me for a lifetime. I’ll toast it nice and brown, put it into a bigggg mug of hot chocolate and drink it all up.” She thinks about it for a while, puts on her eww-that’s-disgusting face and says, “Amma, you don’t want to toast my cheeks. The brown parts of a toasted marshmallow is not nice. Very bitter. Yuck. You should eat it raw raw. That way you’ll get all of my cheeks.”

So.