TO has learnt the art of being an utter smartass and sneaks it into conversations with a smoothness that by turns annoys me and also makes me laugh.
A little while ago, we were doing a round of Q&A about his upcoming swim theory exams and one of the questions was about what to do to prevent injuries while swimming. The expected answers were giving a break between meals and getting into the pool carefully, not jumping into areas where the depth isn’t verified etc etc. The cheeky teen just gave me the side-eye and said, “Avoid the injury and that will work.” Ye Gods..
In the world that Marie Kondo rules (in a manner of speaking), decluttering isn’t merely something to be done; it can become a family activity of sorts while setting you free. Free from disarray, free from decisions about what goes where and why and ultimately free to move around your own space and feel good.
So while my home doesn’t look like a hurricane hit it, neither does it give that sense of things being where they need to be. It’s become more of a “let things be spread all around so I can pick up whatever I need while doing a walkthrough.
My biggest decluttering challenge is about how to throw things out responsibly. I have been actively moving onto items which can be reused or repurposed but with the things that absolutely need to go; I’m drawing a blank.
I would be perfectly within my rights to take a couple of packing boxes and dump whatever I don’t want or need out in the hallway for the housekeeping staff to take away. But their responsibility ends with taking out the trash to yet another location. Where does it go from there?
When it comes to my child’s things- clothes, toys, stationery…pretty much everything can and has found a home in the past.
But when it comes to household items, it’s tough to find a solution am entirely comfortable with unless I do my version of a rummage sale- and I probably will resort to it sometime soon for the sake of my sanity.
Living in a space for over 10 years allows for a lot of things to pile up. And when you live in an apartment, you keep things stacked one on top of another because you don’t always have the benefit of a basement, an attic or even a garage to keep miscellaneous things in.
Just the other day when I whipped myself into a frenzy and started to compile a list of excesses, I realized that I honestly don’t need more than 10-12 pieces of cooking utensils, 1-2 dinner service sets and cutlery.
What are some things we hold onto without much need? What are things you are loath to but must give away? What are things you can’t give away fast enough?
I had completely forgotten what it was like to take a 5-year-old swimming. But, as it is with all things related to kids, it all comes back to you with a bang!
TO has always been fairly independent when it comes to things he likes to do. He shucked his floaties quickly and was frolicking in the big pool before first grade. Watching him was a delight. Being called a whale who had to give him rides on her back; not so much.
My latest 5-year-old decided that she was going to be a pink shark courtesy her pink swim suit. When being a shark wasn’t glamorous enough, she decided that she was going to be a mermaid and perch herself on the pool ledge, splash her legs in the water while she had everyone notice her and say hello.
But needs must and she also wanted to hoot and holler in the pool. Guess who was deputed to be the hungry shark who had to come and try to eat her while she was being a dainty mermaid princess.
Clear instructions were given on how I was supposed to growl and scare her. By this stage TO couldn’t stop himself from displaying his superior animal knowledge and told her that sharks didn’t growl which didn’t sit well with the mermaid princess (a.k.a Ariel) at all. She promptly told TO that if he didn’t become a shark and try to eat her, she would turn into Elsa and freeze everyone in the water.
Once those ultimatums are given there’s only one thing to be done…belly crawl along in 2 feet of water and pretend to be a hungry shark who gets zapped by the magic of a mermaid princess.
P.S: While the said 5-year-old was figuring out if she wanted to if she wanted to be a shark or a princess, she was given a piggyback ride on a whale while being pursued by a shark in the big pool. From 2015 to 2023, this whale has come full circle…bliss!
After I published yesterday’s post, I kind of went down the AI-art rabbit hole. It’s addictive like no one’s business since it does keep challenging you to come up with more and better inputs for the software to generate an image that meets your directives.
Having said that, it’s irritatingly and yet interestingly falling short of what norms constitute a particular type- be it racial or physical. There’s hardly a sliding scale for establishing a benchmark which is odd given that AI exists in a time when everything is under scrutiny, under a lens (extremely literally) and there aren’t many hardline definitions to denote a specific look, physiognomy or even emotions indicating how an individual “ought” to come across.
But enough of the blather, here’s what went down. I kept trying to generate images of what I might look like given the keywords of #chubbywoman#Indian#hasacold#usingatissue#drinkingtea#lookingoutawindow. I alternated my keywords with #wearsglasses Here is what I got and it made me smile and realize that we honestly have quite a bit of road to traverse still…
I looped in the bestie to see if she wanted to describe a situation that could be turned into an image and she asked for 3 chubby Indian women people holidaying on a beach. Lo and behold, here is what the app generated.
While some of these images can be construed as funny, especially if they deviate quite a bit from reality; they aren’t cringeworthy either.
What is however, very surprising is the lack of diversity in the scope of what the app considers a stereotype.
Another texted-generated art about an Indian woman with curls sitting on a beach in a blue sarong created an image of a woman with a sizeable afro and wearing a saree and looking Indian-ish.
I am still having a pretty good time trying to pin down a few things so I can get more specific outputs and hopefully the feedback mechanism of clicking on a heart or a broken heart for images not of my liking, will help the program learn what passes for realism and what’s caricature.
This post may not show me in a good light at all because I have to admit that I have moldy stuff in my fridge and the truth is that I do.
I found some mold in a dish long forgotten, thrust at the back of the fridge ages ago. The mold was funky looking, a bit bland because it didn’t have too many colors but its shape and elements were quite eye-catching.
When you’re trying to get over a rather nasty kind of flu, your mind goes into all sorts of places. Especially since you’re trying to not give it to your family members. This doesn’t necessarily come from a place of altruism because if they got your germs and got sick too, who would take care of you? You’d be a bunch of coughy, sneezy, phlegmy people grunting at each other, walking like zombies instead of being that one person who gets waited on hand and foot because she’s “under the weather”.
Anyhoo, AI art has been bombarding my timeline on all social media platforms I have a presence on and it was only a matter of time before I headed that way myself…so presenting without any further delay…MOLD and its new avatar of MANGA! TADA!!
I pun, or attempt to, at the best and worst of times. It’s not listed as an official coping mechanism but it is one I employ along with snark, sarcasm and tongue-in-cheek humor.
This disclaimer is being given because I will be speaking about our family car and how it’s gone its merry way, away from us.
When Red and I were talking about settling down, he was still jetting around the city on a bike. It got him from point A to B but he realized that along with a wife eventually comes shopping and grocery bags and the minimalistic (and slovenly) ways of bachelorhood go the way of the Dodo.
Ergo, our first ever car made its entry with all due fanfare along with power steering and beautiful turning radius; optimum for many a narrow lane and crowded street I was to find myself on over the years.
Its trunk space (I can’t ever call it a dicky without grimacing) was a thing of beauty. Right from oversized suitcases, to strollers, diaper bags to shopping bags and now various sports kits; it has happily accommodated many bulky, squishy, lumpy things without giving up the ghost.
Sure, a knob or two became loose over time, the suspension wasn’t as smooth as the intial days but the faithful hatchback kept chugging along and became the mode of escape, road trips and was just right for our family.
When I think back on it, most of TO’s exposure to the bleeped words happened in this car. Half the times he had no clue what was being said and the other half, he’d give me a stern look, extremely reminiscent of Red and call me out saying, “How rude!”
His school runs to sports coaching to long heart-hearts have happened in our little car and there was a time when I thought that we’d have it forever. But needs must and we sent off our fat-bummed little car off to a new home with loads of wistfulness and nostalgia being indulged in…as always, by me.
We went in it to the hospital the day TO was born, brought him home in it, he had many meltdowns in it and sang his nursery rhymes. That in turn became trending music I would stream over the speakers.
I always struggled to attach the carriers and babyseats in it, became militant about childlocks and over a point of time it became my own cocoon of music, solitude and me time when I left Red and TO to bond while I did my “Mama-Needs-A-Break” drives away from them and onto long roads leading out of the city.
It’s nice to look back every now and then and see where you came from and how far you’ve travelled. In this case, literally. But it’s also nice to leave things behind in the rear view mirror where they belong. Indulging in nostalgia for nostalgia’s sake can be fun. But getting clouded by it can be tough to break out of.
I was telling my bestie that after moving homes a decade ago, this car was the only thing left from those initial days of being newlyweds and setting up a life of our own and I was finding it a tiny bit hard to let go. But change can also be fun to embrace especially if it comes with a smoother suspension, automatic transmission and even a sunroof.
The takeaways from this movie are this: kids are pains who don’t listen to their parents to the extent of creating a war in the multiverse; Paul Rudd honestly doesn’t agemuch and even at 78, Michael Douglas got swag! For the fans of the Marvelverse and who enjoy seeing Antman become massive and miniscule all within minutes, this movie is a must-see.
With the quantumverse being front and center in the second sequel to Antman, the viewers are exposed to a new world with more characters, a brand new bad guy- say hello to Kang, and another war for the salvation of mankind, jellykind and basically all kinds and tongue in cheek humor from Paul Rudd.
Spoiler: In a flashback we see that Janet van Dyne left some secrets behind when she escaped the quantumverse. Among them was an exiled superbeing- Kang the Conqueror, another Thanos in the making who wanted to rectify the order of the universe and set it right and basically be the Big Kahuna.
Janet scuttles his escape plan and leaves him to create a dystopian empire, fight rebels who are trying to thwart him all while he’s looking for the Pym particles to help him put his power core back together. Enter Scott Lang who must save his daughter, restore the power core and also stop the power core from falling into the wrong hands.
Predictably predictable and still able to elicit hoots and whistles from the audience, this movie falls back on the good vs evil narrative while introducing characters like a strawberry jelly being who wants to have “holes”, a telepath, the leader of the rebels with crazy good abs and last but certainly not the least- ants on quantumverse steroids who save the day.
Evangeline Lily, Michelle Pfeiffer and Bill Murray seem very one dimensional and it’s almost as if the movie would have survived without them, despite Wasp being an integral part of Antman.
