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Name: Nisha
Country: United States
State: California
Metro: Los Angeles
Birthday: 2/20/1981
Gender: Female
Interests: traveling, reading, tennis, soccerfan, techy gear, skiing, relaxing, cultures, anime, economist, carolina herrera, max bruch und mahler, financial times, cure, dm, late nights, pumaness, thai indie, marc jacobs, one bill jeans, sneaks, reefs, pvd-avb-tiesto-the judge, the state of being carefree
Expertise: mediocre at many things but an expert at easy things ^_~ i'm well-rounded
Occupation: Student
Industry: Legal
Message: message me
Member Since:
2/26/2003
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| I think my choice of beer is a testament to what my current life status
is. And at this moment, I'm a little unclear of what exactly is my
choice of beer. Unsettling isn't, for all you beer-lovers? And tammy,
I'm referring to you because you are just about the only person that
reads these lovely entries.
Early in my college years, I drank cheap cheap beer. MGD, Fat Cat, and
Pabst Blue Ribbon Beer. That bit lasted for the time when I would
seriously just drink anything. We would drink to get drunk and be merry
and grill burgers at 4 AM in the morning. Ahh, those were the days. But
as with all fun times, they never last forever.
So, I started to drink Heinekin when we went out clubbing. Us girls
would drink a group shot upon reaching the club and I would chase w/ a
Heiney while the other girls would chase w/ a Cranberry vodka. I used
to love Heinekin. Mostly through my later years in college. It probably
represented my belief that I would end up yuppy-ish somehow. Having a
happy-go-lucky good attitude about life, working a job that paid well,
associating with folks that were living a similar Banana Republic or
Club Monaco type life like mine, living the good uppity life with nice
modern furniture of some sort, and watching sports, no, not in those
low-down, dirty, dark, smelly bars but in those bars with plenty of oak
wood all around or some dark wooded booths.
I jumped off the Heiney bandwagon and went back to my roots--Budweiser.
My first taste of Budweiser was at the age of 4. My dad let me take a
sip one afternoon while we were watching some sort of sporting event on
TV. It was love at first taste. Probably mixed with me trying to be
adult or like my dad b/c I was such a tomboy. Budweiser has this
nice barley taste that finishes quite clean to me. I know people
despise me for saying so but it's true. You can rely on Budweiser to be
just enough kick and not too blah like the various Lites they advertise
out there as tasting like the real thing. So Budweiser is my trucker
drink and I enjoy it as my comfort drink.
Nowadays, I don't really have a beer of choice. I've tried many beers.
Pilsner Urquell. Newcastle. Bodingtons. Amstel Light (which I despise
but drink b/c people in law school love it). Some Italian Beer -
Moretti? Fosters. A variety of German beers...which I cannot remember
the name of. Bass (which all lawyers love for some reason). The list
goes on.
But I don't have a consistent Beer that I can call my current Phase
Beer. I think it represents my nonchalant yet worrisome attitude about
what's to come of me. What's next? I'm in my third year of law school,
still single, still jobless, but luckily I won't graduate with debts.
Phew. I'm curious though...do any of you have any suggestions
that will help me find my Beer of Choice? If you do, pray tell. I'm
dying to find one here.
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| I don't like choices.
I appreciate freedom of choice and all that great bullcrap that so many
of us take for granted but sometimes, do you feel like life gets harder
to live when you have to walk into a fuckin' buffet everyday, to simply
buy toothpaste--or in even more serious situations when you must choose
a career? Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to live in a country
where the system decides for you, what you will become.
For example, my father was a hard worker since he was an adolescent and
as a result of his smarts and work ethic, he tested well on the
university placement exam and was placed on the Doctor route.
Ironically, he didn't want to be a Doctor but a Lawyer. Go figure. In
any case, he finished medical school and upon choosing a specialty, he
chose orthopedics rather than psychiatry, his preference. Why did he go
into orthopedics? Because the educational system said that those who
were smart and did well in school should enter the most respectable
specialty, surgery. He is now a successful orthopedic Dr. who spends at
most five minutes consulting with each patient, performs surgery to the
level of a perfectionist, reads the wall street journal religiously,
and may be the new chairman of his hospital's new wing. Quite a feat
for someone from a small, southern Thai village where boys would play
basketball without shoes. He's generally happy, but probably because he
meditates regularly.
Now, as his daughter who has been given a first rate education at the
best prep school in the nation, a first and a half rate undergraduate
education at the best public university in the nation, and a second
rate graduate education at the second best law school in los angeles, I
should be successful and basking in contentment. Far from it. (Do you
sense my condescension?) I find myself tirelessly wondering what will
become of me. What do I want to be. What is wrong with me that I cannot
be content. When will my life be good enough. These are thoughts that
someone who is in their final year of law school should not entertain.
I should be well on my way to becoming a good lawyer but instead of
studying, I find myself searching the web for post-baccalaureate
pre-medical programs that I may apply to. I figure, 2 yrs in the
post-bac program, 1 yr for mcat prep, 4 yrs in med school, and perhaps
6-8 yrs for my residency and specialty, maybe even more. Do the math. I
will be pushing 40 by the time I'm ready to be a practicing physician.
It's comical, eh? That thoughts like this should even enter my head.
Well, yes, I am a little disgusted at my inability to accept my current
status and live contentedly. But, as with many things, I don't like to
blame just myself for having this attitude. I am a little under
confident in my abilities, despite the incessant and expensive
schooling. I am a little indecisive, especially because of the
choices that I have always been afforded. I am certainly a little
complicated, most likely from the internalization of emotions while
growing up away from my parents. But perhaps there is a point where one
should take the noble, grateful, and adult road, and look around at
others' situations and be content with their own fortunate life. Or
more realistically (and less nobly), perhaps there is a point where one
should grow up, stop waiting and planning for the next step in life,
and simply divulge themselves in their present state and accept the
choices they've made, whether good, bad, or mixed. For every day that I
spend figuring out my life, I will lose a day of enjoying my life. And
let that be a lesson to all of us (mostly me) who are discontent with
ourselves. Life isn't something that you postpone and plan out, and
hone and sharpen and perfect. Life is pretty much about living so I'd
better get cracking on it or who knows, I may be saying the same thing
at 40. Scary thought eh? But oh, is it ever so possible. Ick.
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| I'm pretty sure that it will be quite some before anyone out there
acknowledges my new X-AHN-GA (pronounced without the flat -ang sound
that all you americans like to say, heh) page. I would, however, like
to entice you into reading this page through a story that my parents
told me tonite.
So, my parents were in India for the past 10 days for some Buddhist
meditation trip. Go figure. In any case, my dad said, "Nisha, if you
want to see 'narok' [hell in Thai], go visit India." At this point, I
was thinking to myself, "Wow, that's a messed up way to describe a
country." haha Anyways, what he meant was, there are so many people
everywhere and it's so sad because you can see crowds fighting for 'yah
mong' [that Tiger Balm stuff that you use to rub onto bug bites,
bruises, etc]. So tour guides consistently tell visitors not to pass
out anything, not even a few rubies because people will be duking it
out for them.
My mom continues by telling me a more endearing story about two young
friends, seeing to their mother naturely duties out in the open fields.
Apparently, in India, at least out in the boonies where there are no
outhouses to be found, people go take their dookies out in the open
air, amidst the long grass I guess. So my mom's on this bus ride, turns
over to look out the window and lo and behold, she sees these two kids
taking dumps side by side and chatting it up with each other. hahahah
Imagine yourself just squatting in the fields with your brother or your
sister, letting it all out as you tell him/her how you just ate nann
and curry or _____ (you can fill in the blank) with your
"clean hand." Hahahha, i'm just joshing now.
Here's that visual for you. Minus the long grass and plus more people.
Anyhow, the greatest thing about India is that all these people who are
less fortunate than all of us out here in America, are all smiles as
they wave to all the foreign passersby. Why can't we be more like that?
And those people aren't even on any type of medication?! Wow, imagine -
happiness is being content with your life...one of the greatest
wonderments of the world.
Disclaimer: I am not trying to be racist or offend anyone who happens
to not know me so please don't take my comments too seriously. I'm a
good person. ^_~
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