I never promised you a rose garden

Since the new Blogger is being a bitch, I'm emailing this post in the hopes that something will happen. First off, I'd like to acknowledge and thank from the bottom of my heart, the lovely Beks, for this template. We decided on the images for the header together, and she still wants me to do a little tweaking, which I will, I promise, but I've just been so lazy.

The funny thing is, ever since I've moved here, and begun posting out of Bombay, the number of trolls my site has attracted is beginning to alarm me a little. I get comments ranging from "Go home, we don't want you" to the very, very rude (which I just deleted and I'm not even going to bother to replicate--but seriously, people have too much time on their hands). Which means, for the time being, comment moderation is on. I find it a little alarming how unfriendly people can be, and these are like people who are NOT obligated to be nice to me, but perhaps other citizens of this city feel the same way? Yesterday, I was going to meet a couple of friends, and since I was already running a little late, I jumped on the first train I saw, and the first empty compartment. It was something like 9 pm, and the seats were empty, except for two men sitting near the back and another two standing by the door. I was happily chatting to someone on the phone when the dude near the door starts yelling at me in Marathi. I must've blinked or looked confused because then he asked me scornfully in Hindi, "Don't you know any Marathi or Hindi?" Panic stricken thoughts of rightwing Maharashtrians started to run through my head and my friend on the phone started to sound alarmed as well. Finally, after much lipcurling, he told me I was on a handicapped compartment, and that I had to get off at the next station and switch. "Can't you read?" he said, then and meekly, I got off and got on again. I suppose someone had to do that, maybe he was like a train monitor type person or something, but I couldn't help thinking that at 9.30, which is what the time was now, the odds of a flock of handicapped people entering and being short of one seat were slightly slim. Still, he was most imposing, and I did what he said.

But, today's like a big day for me, though. Ladies and gentlemen, ta-dah, ta-DAH, I have successfully made it through a month! It's my first month anniversary, and to celebrate tonight I'm going for the Alan Parsons Project, followed by a birthday party for the tiny but still lovely Five Feet Zero. Although, I realise a little sadly, I can no longer use my "I'm new in the city" excuse--because I think that pretty much expires after you've been here a month. Or three? I could totally milk it for the next three months no? At least till March. And to people who don't know me. Yes, think that is exactly what I will do.

I have shitloads to do all through February though, so I can't return to the city of my birth for at least another month, which SUCKS. I want to go home, I want to put my feet up, and know people on the street and understand what people are saying to me and have no one say,"Go back to where you came from" because I will be LEGITIMATELY from there.

Aargh. Terribly whiny post I know, but I've been feeling a little down.