InDiAn DiVa

Wowee! Somebody checked my blog… 20 TIMES on Tuesday!!! Oh thank you so much now I feel so loved! Well, I promised Tash that I would post a poem. Cheer. It’s about escaping by closing your eyes. Here it is:

Sometimes, it’s fun to escape;

Completely unaware of anyone else:

Full of joy and bliss,

On some journey in my head–

And in my heart.

Lemons in my skies, apple of my eye!

And every day I wish I fly;

And dash a glistening tear aside:

And dash that glistening tear aside–

So full of hight, and flight;

When the sun’s beams and the moon’s rays:

When the moon’s beams and the sun’s rays

Meet, intertwined at the very break of dawn.

Ah, poetry! Now I feel like you know me very well, because that poem is the very thing I think every day of my life.

Grammar sticlers, UNITE TODAY! Oh, sorry to not include you on my train of thought, I tend to do that often, skipping about from subject to subject like a dainty-footed mountain goat in the crisp and fresh-scented air of the Swiss Alps, watched over by a boy named Peter who is wearing suspenders and a coarse shirt, playmate of a young Swiss girl named Heidi whos grandmother is blind and likes toasted cheese, perhaps you have heard of her she’s rather famous. Anyways.

This is an excerpt from a book called Eats, shoots, and leaves. It’s by a woman named Lynne Truss. The title is from an old grammar-stickler joke:

A panda walks into a bar, orders nachos, eats them, pulls out a gun, fires two shots into the air and walks out. ‘Why did you do that?’ the bartender asks, perplexed. ‘I’m a panda, look it up’, says the panda, tossing the bartender a brochure on pandas. The bartender turns to the page about the panda’s diet. The entry says: ‘Panda: eats, shoots, and leaves.’.

HHHAAAAA haaahaa. Do you get it? If you don’t, I will explain. When the brochure says ‘eats, shoots, and leaves’, it is adding 2 extra commas! What they really mean is ‘eats shoots and leaves’ as in bamboo shoots and leaves! Here is a little clever punctuation twister:

1. A woman, without her man, is nothing.

2. A woman: without her, man is nothing.

So here is THE funniest part of the book: a letter from a girl to a guy. Number one is with the ‘positive’ version of punctuation, and number 2 is with the ‘negative’ version. It should bring you some laughs, especially Niki and Tash.

1.  Dear Jack,

I want a man who knows what love is all about. You are generous, kind, thoughtful. People who are not like you admit to being useless and inferior. You have ruined me for other men. I yearn for you. I have no feelings whatsoever when we’re apart. I can be forever happy - will you let me be yours?

Jill

2. Dear Jack,

I want a man who knows what love is. All about you are generous, kind, thoughtful people, who are not like you. Admit to being useless and inferior. You have ruined me. For other men I yearn! For you I have no feelings whatsoever. When we’re apart I can be forever happy. Will you let me be?

Yours,

Jill

Isn’t that a SCREAM?!?! Oh, now you probably are terrified of me releasing my Inner English Freak…. hehe. Fear me…? Niki and Tash, since you two are probably the only two that care, if you want to read more of the book, visit http://search.barnesandnoble.com/booksearch/isbninquiry.asp?z=y&ean=9781592400874&displayonly=CHP

then scroll down until you see the small print. Actually, it’s not that small. You will love it.

Sorry, I kind of realize that this isn’t of much interest to most of you…

Love, Kimaya

Hmm. Why am I homeschooled?

Well, I started in second grade, because first grade was only a year after I learned to read (I learned in the year before kindergarten, when I was almost 5), so whenever I came home from school, I would be pooped and just want to read.

I used to be ultra-clingy, too. I would never really want to be away from my mommy. So when I got home, I would read a few Magic Tree House books, then eat dinner, and go to bed. I never really had a time to be with Mommy, except in the mornings when we would argue about what clothes I should wear for the day. (I used to favor mixes like yellow and pink striped dress with a red long sleeve shirt with Santa Clauses and reindeer all over it. Not exactly lovely.)

So I decided to homeschool. Every morning I would go to the dry-erase board and look at the Morning Message my mom put there. Then I would find the grammar and spelling mistakes in it and correct them in red marker so that when she came down, she could tell me if I got them all right. Then I ate breakfast and put on whatever amazingly uncoordinated outfit I pleased. Unless we were going on a fied trip. Then I would usually wear clothes that matched.

I would have math from a math book, and handwriting, and, my main source of pride of being an ‘advanced’ student was the fact that, in second grade, I was using and 8th grade spelling book. The words were like ‘copy’ and ‘amazing’ or carbonated’. The hardest part was the list of hyphenated words such as first-aid, which I am still very bad at.

That was my entire day, after I practiced piano. Then maybe I would write some poetry and hand it in for extra credit.

People always told me that homeschoolers were all so precocious and smart, so I lived by that rule, and whenever a guest came over during a school day, I would put on a khaki shirt and  my navy blue uniform skort so that the people would think I was extra-super smart. Back then, in second grade it was accepted that people who went to ‘uniform schools’ were the smart ones.

In fifth grade was when I got lonely, because now all of my friends (sustained from kindergarten), were talking about who was ‘the cutest boy’ in the class, blah blah blah. I didn’t really get any of it, because I have been at home all this time, I was so sheltered.

Then it just got worse as people got older, and SOME or my friends became a little ‘boy crazy’. Actually, not a little, a LOT. That could get quite annoying, since I had no clue what was going on there.

In sixth grade, people started having ‘private jokes’, or things happened that couldn’t be explained to me since I was homeschooled and ‘wouldn’t get it’, or it was ‘too long a story’.

THEN, the worst thing happened: I realized that no one my age was homschooled anymore. I realized that I thought of myself as a normal person, while I looked at the others homeschoolers like ‘farmers’ or some rustic people like that. I realized that I too,  was probably a ‘farmer’.

All the homeschoolers on fieldtrips we went on never brushed thier hair, and probably didn’t bother bathing or changing clothes that often. The little boys would boast about how it had been a month since they had bathed, or five days since they changed clothes. And thier parents would boast about thier children too. “Well my son slept in that shirt for six nights and days with our family dog” ‘oooh’ s and ‘ahhh’ s would follow.

That was when I decided to distance myself from the other homeschoolers, and look for another way to be. So I got obsessed with clothes. I made my own, and they were extremely nice looking. I also altered alot of old things to fit me. Voila, instant wardrobe makeover.

Then, when people my age began getting held back when they began schooling at other places, they wouldspread the word that people were homeschooled because they had ’special needs’. Then people would look at me like I was an idiot, when in truth the reason why I was being homeschooled was because I was literarily and mathematically precocious. No, I dodn’t have ’special needs’ in the way the term implied: help for someone who is behind. But I needed a special setting for someone who was ahead.

Well, now people think I am being homeschooled because I am ‘dumb’.

That is just not true.

Now, to prove the world wrong time and time again, I have turned into the clothing-consious, knowledge-brimming young woman before your eyes… Well actually, I’m behind your computer screen.

Oh, and by the way, by ‘clothing consious’ , I do NOT mean that I am conforming to any certain branch of the clothing industry, but I am wearing my own inventions: An orange tie-die mirrored shirt from India with a bright green mirrored skirt, or such.

Please, please do not think that I am clothing OBSESSED. I am cleanliness obsessed. Ineed to look neat and groomed. I do NOT obsess about clothing. I don’t want you to get the wrong picture of me as Miss Material Girl, because I’m NOT.

So, that’s why I’m homeschooled, Tash. And thank you for asking, because now everyone knows the truth!

Love, Kimaya

P.S. Emily and Graham, I am NOT talking about you as the messy, held back homeschoolers in this post. I am talking about someone else. If you want to know who, email me at Kimaya8@aol.com – IF you ever happen to read this.

OH DEAR. Forget about me being mad at Amara. Now I am just sad for her. Her dad had to go to the hospital (for the full story, please visit www.24chocolate24.blogspot.com ), and she couldn’t go to Puerto Rico for her grandparents’ 50th anniversary. Just think how her poor mommy feels. I would be sobbing all over the place if I were her.

That’s all for that subject now, because I might get too sad.

I went to this AMAZING contra dance at the Munson library in Amherst. Niki came too! It was great because they had just had a workshop for callers, so 25 callers were there that night. We did regular contras, Becketts, irregular contras, squares and one dance where everyone stood in a long line (that one was not so fun). Niki: now, on to GREENFIELD!

OK, yesterday I let a few mosquitoes bite me, because I was interested in seeing how they bit. I will tell you one thing: now I am terrified of mosquitoes! One landed on my knee (how foolish of me, my knees are so senitive to bites and the swell up), and it walked around looking for a suitable biting spot. Apparantly it found one, because it stuck its proboscuis into by knee all the way up to its head. It was so so grotesque. SO AWFULLY DISGUSTING. Also, bad news: MOSQUITOES BITE THROUGH CLOTH, so bug spray is the only way. I know of a really good kind with no DEET in it, and I will attach a link when I find the site so you can order a gallon. A mosquito bit through my jeans.

Ok that’s it.

Bye.

Peace.

Love.

Au Revoir.

Adios.

GOOD BYE!

Love, Kimy, The Indian Diva!!!!!

Yes, let’s listen to the title.

Blogging.

You know what? I can’t think of anything to say about it except that it is fun to have your OWN website that anyone can see. When you have one, you risk offending people, or complimenting people too much. You risk boasting too much, or being to humble. WHen you are a blog princess/prince, you need to be the Ultimate Human Being. But as we bloggers all know, that can be extremely hard.

If you post about one person, another person wats a post about them, too. Then, if thier post is too short, they get mad. It makes a blogger feel bad when they have to go back and edit for the whim of another person wanting to feel more important. I’m not complaining though.

Ok, I guess I found something to talk about.

By the way, I am done busting around about Abercrombie & Fitch. I don’t really care if all thier clothes are for Barbies. I just think the owner needs to get a life because he is a perverted old man who had a wife and a mistress and sells thong underwear to l2 year- olds. The company isn’t that bad, the owner is. So may wear it as often as you like.

About being the Ultimate Human Being: The UHB has to satisfy the universe while keeping at least a shred of his/her identity without becoming a compliment-vending machine. We have to stay critical of something. I cannot like every attribute of a person. It’s really impossible. I don’t even like everything about fabulous beings like God or Buddha. There is just always something to dislike. That’s why we can’t always vend out compliments. If you would like me to make a blog called www. IAmSoNiceToEveryone .com, I will, but I would hate it.

Another thing about blogging: Tash (www. natasha l4 . blog. com) is my FAVORITE blogger ever because:

l: she is pretty similar to how I was when I was her age

2: she love reading an writing (only the wonderful people do)

and

3: Her choice of words is amazing.

WOoo HOoo Tash, here is a giant purple cyber-cookie for you: O

enjoy.

Watch out for the CAPITAL letters, because the caps are the real truth today… 

So. Lets talk about love again. (awww!) OK, I know you don’t really want to, but I just have one tiny question and then I will lay off about it.

Do you have to LOVE EVERYONE, EVEN GEORGE BUSH, or do you just have to NOT HATE them?

Very good thing to think about. think Think THink THInk THINk THINK. Tell me if you see the pattern in the ‘thinks’

OK. Enough love. I am wrriting a book! WAAAA!!! MOMMY COME SAVE ME HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO WRITE A BOOK!!!!! Its actually pretty good. HELPHELPHELP I ONLY HAVE  2 CHAPTERS AND THEY ARE FILLED WITH ACCIDENTAL GRAMMAR MISTAKES!!!! Don’t worry about me, though. I am just chilling and going with the fabulously eloquent flow of words coming out of my mind. OH MY ALPHA AND OMEGA WHAT AM I GOING TO DO!! And it is turning out to be kind of a satirical parody of a book, because I have only been writing when I feel sarcastic. But it’s still pretty down to earth. SARCASTIC?!?! MY BOOK?!?! HELP! It’s based on this book called The Wish List By Eoin Colfer. Check it out from the library and you will love it. But I am surely making positive (positively making sure) that I don’t steal stuff from his book. I am just writing it in the same SARCASTIC!!! style. It’s actually not that bad.

Now I think Amara is off over the sea in Puerto Rico right now, which is very mean of her, because she was SUPPOSED to come over and say bye to me because otherways I will miss her too much. But POOF ON HER BECAUSE NOW SHE I GONE.

I am having a fabulous HAHAHAHAHA day. Really. YEAH, RIGHT KIMAYA GO AHEAD AND LIE. Shut up capital letters, I am trying not to distress anyone, and I am trying to avoid mental conflict. Sorry, I was just talking to my alter ego. WHY DOESN’T ANYONE EVER LISTEN TO ME?!?! WHY DO YOU ALWAYS LISTEN TO KIMAYA?!? IM HER ALTER EGO, AFTER ALL.

Whatever. I love you. Bye

Fact: Today is the birthday party of one of my friends.

Fact: I don’t want to go.

Fiction: She is always nice to me.

Wish: I wish she wasn’t so tactless

Fact: I do really like her, but sometimes her lack of tact can get on my nerves.

Fact: She is always all over me, and she treats me like I’m 20 years old. Not like an actual 20-year-old, but like a babysitter.

Fact: I hate it.

Fiction: Women are all supposed to be quiet. (more on that later)

Fact: That’s why I don’t want to go!

I am sorry I haven’t been posting lately. You all must be so dissapointed in me. I notice that someone (or someoneS) checked my blog 12 times on Thursday. Congratulations whoever you are. Also, the same someone also checked Savita’s blog, www.sungirlsav.blog.com thank you so much. Even though she hardly ever posts (you know, the busy life of a seven year old), it meant ALOT to her to see that someone at least checked.

So, while you all do fabulous and meaningful things for me, I am off chasing rainbows, literally, and I caught one! I auditioned for Finian’s Rainbow, a less-known musical being put on by Arena Civic Theater. And… Drumroll…… I GOT IN! I am going to be a featured dancer, due to my apparantly stunning dance segment of the audition. I would have gotten some sort of fabulous singing thing too, but the piano lady mead me sing the OTHER song, the one that I DO NOT like because it is basically about making out in the sky. And I am also kind of bad at it, too. But inspired by Tash’s ever-perseverant songlifted spirit, I pressed on throughout the song, cleverly editing the lyrics on the spot to spare myself the curious glances of any stray adult who happened to be passing. AND I MADE IT! AND I WILL BE PERFORMING IN OCTOBER! But here is the wonderful part: WITH MY MOM AND TWO SISTERS ONE OF WHICH HAS NEVER, EVER BEEN IN A SHOW AND SHE IS SO EXCITED AND SO AM I!!!!!

Ok, that is news 1. Now for news 2.

I GOT A WEEK-LONG SUMMER JOB! It is only 3 and a half hours at the beginning of each day for a week, but I am gatting paid alot! And all I have to do is play piano accompaniments for book one and two-ers at a Suzuki violin, cello and viola institute! I will be somewhat closer to my monetary goal for buying a…. HARP!

News 3 is that I might play harp.

News 4 is….. After my summer job mornings I will go to African Dance And Drumming camp with my FAVORITE earthy-crunchy teacher EVER! Actually, she is my favorite teacher ever besides my mommy. (Earthy-crunchy is not meant to categorize you, Kalpana, if you happen to read this, but it is meant to very unaccurately illustrate you to random people who have no clue how amazing you are. I just don’t think they would get it.)

News 5….. This summer I am going to buy this tounge stud (NO NOT REAL!) In Cape Cod where they have a huge artificial-body-piercings shop. So don’t fear me when I have a “pierced” tounge. I just need it for fun days.

Ok. I have a test for you: STOP AVOIDING FACT. My mom was talking about my grandfather’s “thing”. What the fruit is a ‘thing’?!?!? It’s called a STROKE. It is not a swear. It is not dangerous. If you say it, you won’t get jinxed! Look: STROKE STROKE STROKE. Woo I just saw a really pretty bird.

So stop avoiding reality. It totally screws up the universe and it makes me mad.

Sincerely (and REALISTICALLY) yours, Kimaya, your only Indian Diva.