Yesterday was such a great day. Today was actually almost as good. The rude awakening is that I always have the best day of a vacation right before I have to go back to school. The same applies to camp, or a school year, or anything else. I wish I could find some kind of balance. But no, and I'm sure there's a term for this—the grass is always greener?—but I can never be happy with what I have. When I have free time, I'm bored and wish I were at school. When I have a structured schedule, I get tired and stressed and wish I had some free time. It's a pretty vicious cycle. I wish I could cut it out. But I can't.
See, this is why I could never be a Buddhist. I get too stressed out about things. And I over-think everything. In the words of Mr. Monk, "it's a gift... and a curse."
Some gift.
Anyway, today was Easter and all, and my hair was very curly and I was happy, even though I didn't get to ride my bike at all. We went to the grandparents' house and had a pleasantly action-packed egg hunt, pleasant because none of the cousins had tantrums. It was great.
About half of the time I hung out with the adults and gossiped about my grandpa's brother's family and listened to plenty of venting about the NYC fifth-graders-have-to-goddamned-APPLY-to-MIDDLE-school experience that the twins are going to be going through in a year or so.
About a third of the time I hung out with the kids and sang Panjabi MC at them and practiced my Hindi and annoyed the hell out of them until they chased me down and tickled me and threw, or attempted to throw, those plastic red and yellow balls you find in those IKEA ball pits.
The rest of the time (see how I so craftily hide the fact that I can't do math) I just lay on the short brick wall of the driveway, barefoot, listening to Enya or Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head or my new Hindi podcast.
Pretty sure the neighbors thought I was completely bizarre. I kept having these conversations with myself, just over and over again, "Hello, what is your name—hello, my name is Megha, and what is your name—my name is Asha—Asha, your name is nice—thank you!" But in Hindi.
I just love all the words for 'thank you' in other languages. Especially Asian languages. And I can't get enough of comparing words in languages that are really similar. Example: I know probably two words in Arabic, one of them being 'thank you'—'shokran.' In Hindi, 'thank you' is 'shukriya.' I love being a word detective!
God, I am such a geek. A word geek and an Indian geek. Well, hey, at least I find simple excitement in my life. Andif when I go to India, at least I won't sound like a complete gringo.
See, this is why I could never be a Buddhist. I get too stressed out about things. And I over-think everything. In the words of Mr. Monk, "it's a gift... and a curse."
Some gift.
Anyway, today was Easter and all, and my hair was very curly and I was happy, even though I didn't get to ride my bike at all. We went to the grandparents' house and had a pleasantly action-packed egg hunt, pleasant because none of the cousins had tantrums. It was great.
About half of the time I hung out with the adults and gossiped about my grandpa's brother's family and listened to plenty of venting about the NYC fifth-graders-have-to-goddamned-APPLY-to-MIDDLE-school experience that the twins are going to be going through in a year or so.
About a third of the time I hung out with the kids and sang Panjabi MC at them and practiced my Hindi and annoyed the hell out of them until they chased me down and tickled me and threw, or attempted to throw, those plastic red and yellow balls you find in those IKEA ball pits.
The rest of the time (see how I so craftily hide the fact that I can't do math) I just lay on the short brick wall of the driveway, barefoot, listening to Enya or Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head or my new Hindi podcast.
Pretty sure the neighbors thought I was completely bizarre. I kept having these conversations with myself, just over and over again, "Hello, what is your name—hello, my name is Megha, and what is your name—my name is Asha—Asha, your name is nice—thank you!" But in Hindi.
I just love all the words for 'thank you' in other languages. Especially Asian languages. And I can't get enough of comparing words in languages that are really similar. Example: I know probably two words in Arabic, one of them being 'thank you'—'shokran.' In Hindi, 'thank you' is 'shukriya.' I love being a word detective!
God, I am such a geek. A word geek and an Indian geek. Well, hey, at least I find simple excitement in my life. And
