Keeping up with the Kardashians?

So, I tried watching the hit show "Keeping Up With The Kardashians" today, and I have concluded that  it is...a complete waste of time. I know, I know. It's my fault for watching it and yadda yadda yadda. BUT, I just wanted to see why it was so popular.

I still don't know.

Why?

Why do people love seeing how the Kardashian family lives? What makes them so interesting? It just strikes me as pointless. There are so many TV shows like that. Where it's like an hour of "Oh-look-at-me-I'm-so-interesting-I-have-my-own-show-just-to-mass-blog-to-people." It's like...mass vlogging. Except, you know, it's not as nice and "private."

Kinda strange, right?

RIP Pappa Ajoba

For all of you who don't know what "Ajoba" means, it means "grandfather" in my language. My mother's father, whom I called "Pappa Ajoba" died last year from cancer.

When I went to India this summer, I went to a memorial ceremony for my Pappa Ajoba. It was exactly one year (Hindu year, not the 365-day one) since he died. In my culture, we believe that it takes a spirit one year of cleansing to be reborn as another person. We were having a ceremony to acknowledge that Pappa Ajoba's spirit has finally moved on.

When we got the call saying that he had died, I couldn't cry. My sister cried buckets, but I didn't. And I don't know why. Surely I should have cried, right? I feel guilty for not shedding a single tear. Maybe it's just because it hasn't hit me yet. It didn't sem possible for a person to be alive for one second and then just be a corpse, a shell of their former self the next. But it is possible. I mean, it happens everyday. Every second, right?

I suppose Death isn't that scary though. I know it's morbid, but I'm actually curious about what happens when a person dies. Is the white light real? Do you hear voices from your past? Does your life really pass before your eyes in fast forward? And what about after you take the Big Step? An afterlife? Heaven? Hell? Or just nothingness? Does everything just end there? Go blank? Maybe we humans have just added romance to death. We needed something to...spice it up or we just couldn't care if someone died. At least not as much. I know that sounds cynical, but it's true, right? We always need something interesting attached to everything, or we just don't care. Or maybe we do. Just not enough.

A Coffeehouse Vignette

            He watched her from across the shop as he took a sip of his black coffee. She was wearing a blue knit hat today. How many hats did she have? She had her notebook out as usual and was writing in it with a feathery pen. Purple this time. A steaming mug of hot chocolate sat next to her, steaming away, but left untouched for once. Instead, she was writing more furiously than ever, her eyes flying back and forth across the page. She looked agitated. Much more agitated than usual. Maybe he should talk to her this time.

Oh, who was he kidding? He always thought about walking over to her. Saying something witty and perhaps earning a smile in return. He rarely saw her smile. Then again, he only ever saw her in the coffee shop. But she was always so concentrated on whatever she was writing in her notebook that she rarely ever smiled. He’d only see her smile once, when she had answered a phone call. What if it was her boyfriend? She was probably taken anyways. She was so…beautiful. He didn’t even know her and he could tell that she was beautiful.

He was going to do it. He was going to go up to an entire stranger and tell her she was beautiful.

Right after he finished his coffee.

Diving in Feetfirst

Well, this is it. My upteenth attempt at blogging. I've seen the other attempts get washed down the drain, swirling amongst the sewage. Hopefully, this attempt won't end up in the same way. I intend for it not to, anyways. I'm going to try and devote this blog entirely to my writing, occasionally punctuated by rants and random rambling thoughts that roll around in my mind.

I have decided to try doing the Sunday Scribblings every week (starting today).  Wish me luck!

Also, I'm shouting out to my younger, wonderful, beautiful sister. Happy birthday, sweetheart! I love you so much!