Riding the weather roller-coaster

Bloomington's weather is weird, to say the least. When I first came here, I used to get so excited when it would rain. It doesn't rain much in Muscat, and it didn't rain much in Delhi, so rain was always welcome. This, however, was before my first of many falls in the rain. So the fact that it is raining again today, as it was yesterday, and promises to do tomorrow, is no ray of sunshine (see what I did there?). See, if there is one thing you need to know about Indiana weather, it's this:

A x% chance of rainfall = 100% chance of rainfall, x being any number between 10-100.

It doesn't matter if weather.com says 30%, it always translates as RAIN! Pretty much like a 90% chance of rain in Delhi usually translated as no rain. I like rain, I do! But my only umbrella broke two weeks back, and I'm tired of wearing my thick jacket to avoid getting drenched. Somehow rain seems to reach its peak jut as I am about to leave, and stop right after I enter shelter. The only way to save yourself? Layers. Many many layers. Like onions, or Ogres, green cute funny Ogres who have a slight accent and are married to Ogress' called Fiona, and live in a swamp with a smartass smart-ass called Dunkey and know a prince who sounds like Justin Timberlake and

I digress.

Where was I? Oh yeah, the weather. It is awful. And confusing. And unpredictable. Let's just hope we don't have any more snow. Don't laugh, it's possible!I mean with the laws of probability no longer applying and rain becoming highly selective in its timing to whichever city I move to, I'm starting to wonder if I should take all this personally, weather gods.

*at this point of time, Sri was struck by a giant thunderbolt that completely avoided all the much taller trees and metal rods near her, and the only sound was a resounding MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHA*

SPRING IS HERE!!!!!!

OMG, for the first time in months, I don't have to wear a jacket!!!! Could I be more excited (read it like chandler said it)? It's a friday, the weather's all sweet and sunny, all I have is 6 gazillion papers/projects and 4 finals till I officially become a senior! I'm excited, scared, well, no excited. It's funny, really, I can't wait to graduate and step into this 'real world' everybody seems to be functioning in, yet I really do love being in college. It's fun, relatively safe, and you get summers off. I guess that is the distinction between real world and not: whether you get summers off. I have always had something to do every summer - classes, jobs, internships, horsing around. But this time, for the first time, I think I'll be able to do what I have wanted to ever single summer since the end of high school.

Beach. Cold Drink. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz's

Usually, under the Indian schooling system, the school year runs from april through march, so summers are usually filled with holiday homework and assignments like "What books you read during the summer" and such. So this school year ending in may, so free four months is a miraculous concept to me. I spent most of my freshman year promising myself sun soaked afternoons on the beach, which never really came to fruition. I was here taking summer classes, and then I was being a semi-productive member of society with a job. Last summer, it was two summer sessions of classes, followed by a job. This summer, zilch. For the most part, at least. So june-july-august? Beach, woo hoo!!! While not having a set internship is bumming me out, there are *some* benefits to this entire recession scenario.

What? I'm an optimist! And we need more of those these days..

I'm going to China!!!!!

OMG, the most amazing news came through this week - I got accepted to go to CHINA for a study abroad program this summer!!!!!!! Largest Communist country in the world, here I come!

Here's one of my poems..

It's written in pentameter, hence the weird line breaks. Be gentle.

These are the trials of our times

“I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness….”

Allen Ginsburg

Recession is the big bad wolf under the bed

that actually ate your grandma, while Bernie made

off with her house, home, clothes and bone. The reign

of four letter words is over, foulest

of the foul are three lettered: AIG. No one

can find the bloody box we were supposed to be thin-

-king outside of. Must’ve invested with Bernie.

It started on a bull, so money flowed

freely and jobs were plentiful. The philosophy

major, the beat poet, the drop out with the crack problem:

they were all employed with six figure

salaries, hired to walk the street and sell

their wares. Wallets thickened, skins too.

Souls disappeared as the dream of sticking

it to the man was replaced with a fat 401(k).

Global warming, terrorists,

Vampires are supposed to now sparkle??

The apocalypse is nigh, horsemen are here:

Spears, Miley, Joe, Nick, and the other jonas.

And then we have their leader, the face of this doom,

Bernard Lawrence "Bernie" Madoff, aka buffoon.

50 billion in a Ponzi scheme that vanished,

left his blood thirsty investors famished.

Had he succeeded, he they would have heralded.

Named it after him, the "Madoff Method"

Made the rounds lecturing the world.

Ah! But the icing on the cake and all that fun,

Bernie Madoff was turned in by his son.