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Why chai at six? Because growing up, my family and I would have chai every evening. Those moments of my youth are among my most favorite memories.

Who am I? A twentysomething working fulltime in Knoxville, Tenn.

Please note that all thoughts and comments described in this blog are purely my own and do not reflect the thoughts or attitudes of the company I work for.

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    chai at six
    As I headed to West Knoxville this evening after work, I let loose my hair and rolled down my windows and enjoyed my drive down Middlebrook Pike. The air was warm and the radio was playing a good couple of songs. I felt the onset of spring and new comings as I took my time driving with — not darting between — cars. And though I'm a little hesitant at how quickly spring has happened upon us, I anticipate more good times ahead.

    Monday, I bought a very cool, very retro, very orange sofa at a dirt cheap price. Oh, the thrills of thrift store shopping on Central Avenue! I've been taking photos, so you may see it making a visual appearance on the blog soon. Now it's about straying from the identical yellow paintings of a desolate mangled tree, of which two are sitting at my desk right now, and onto other art that has as much meaning.

    That night, an impulsive dinner party for seven. As usual, I was cooking right on till the end, but it was a good time and new people got to meet. Plus my new recipes were not a disaster and I discovered that the spinach and paneer frozen samosas I bought from Apna Bazaar are pretty damn tasty. The red china and red lights have come to good use, as has the newly acquired orange loveseat. Adding to the red theme were the 'oh so tasty' red-headed sluts, which (I'm sure), were incorrectly poured, but who cares! And I now have company in the empty apartment with my first big living thing — a medium-sized rubber plant courtesy of Carly.

    I attended my first theater in the round this week. The play, "Road to Mecca," was based in South Africa. I hadn't realized I hadn't heard the words "petrol," "Marie biscuits" and "Afrikaans" in a while. It was interesting hearing Southerners struggle with the Afrikaaner accent. But I loved the set decoration and the fact that real potatoes were being peeled and real tomatoes being cut on the set. It shows how my mind wanders: I will drift in and out of listening to the dialogue, but show me a woman peeling potatoes and I'm hooked.

    The birthday came and went. Optimism has me betting this year will be even better. See me (braces and all) with the birthday cake.

    To end, here's a little shout-out to Shiv, the most fun little sister around. I'm planning on being in Philadelphia/NJ early April, so we can talk about colleges and stuff. I will also sit with you while you drive, though I will be holding on for dear life. Remember: just say NO.

    Posted by Jigsha at 3/05/2004 01:00:00 AM | link to entry |