say chess

I haven't been blogging for a while (and I'm really overwhelmed that you noticed)

Its not there are no things to blog about, for instance, there'll always be Zidane's head-butting.
The Weather.
Good old top 5 lists.
The meaning of Life.
About why J.K. Rowling should kill off Harry Potter (I haven't read the books but that shouldn't stop me from having an opinion)
Little kids who fall in wells.
The recommendations of the Oversight Committee (Good golly, Mr. Moily!).
The war on the Hezbollah.

But I'm in a particularly frivolous mood today and so I shall blog about Internet chess.

I've been on sick leave for the past two days because I caught (and here my four and a half years of medical education has armed me with the skill to diagnose) a rather bad bug.
And I used the time to play internet chess.

Now don't be fooled, internet chess is just a notch above chatrooms, social networks and mindless TV. It is still just a crappy source of entertainment.

When I used my own handle, I got bombarded with invitations for games. This is because of the unwritten understanding among the members of Coyote Gulch and other nerdy chess lounges, that girls are easy to beat. And my ranking certainly helped the matter. I was mostly beaten hollow but everyone was paradoxically chivalrous about it. "Nice game" (after 7 moves and mate) "Dont worry, when I was starting out, i lost badly too" and other undeserving pats on the back.

But when I used my brother's account, I was confronted with a whole new level of aggression. There's virtual head-butting. There's sledging and psyche-outs.

I learnt to avoid playing the guys with names like Checkmator or Destructionado - they are 10 year olds, full of gas, and remarkably easy to beat.

I also learnt to avoid the 2 minute initial time, 15 second increment, 10 second decrement games. Anybody who's smart enough to figure out what that means, is smart enough to rig the clock.

The first person i beat was a princess lulu, for 4 points i got spam. So beware of names like that which actually belong in over 30 singles chatrooms.

You know what, on second thoughts, ignore what I've said, and go out into this strange, sunny, overcast, look at the contrast bright grey weather and play with your football.

I really should have just blogged about the weather.

the answer to "what's up?"

I'm living a killer month, i must have mentally smoked a million cigarettes (u cant ban them from my head, mr. health minister)

I've started studying in the library which is a really bad idea because of the graveyard silence, the zombies buried in books and the sedating whir of airconditioning.
But the upside of it is that there is always a sleepy friend you can trudge along with to the nescafe stall for a quick caffeine-fix.
But three cups of Coffee in a space of one hour however can send you in a state of hyper-alertness and tingling euphorism that makes you jump up and giggle whenever anyone so much as clears his throat.

But the coffee was necessary because I was posted at the RML emergency.

Which brings me to the deconstruction of the romantic ER myth. No, there are no doctors in blood stained scrubs yelling orders ("CBC, EKG, BLAH") and performing resuscitation (BAG HIM!) on some gun-shot victim being wheeled in on the trolley. There is no mad rush and urgent heroism. Its very sedate and sanitary really.

Tennis. I've been playing tennis with my cousins who have the best shoes on clay and I lost 21 straight games but loved every minute of it.
My brothers had passes to watch the portugal-france game at meridian but i dont care now, germany lost, nothing matters anymore.I also finally read 'who moved my cheese'. I
also realized that 'Kabhie Kabhie' is the most romantic song ever sung.

But maybe the real answer to "what's up?" is "ahh, nothin much".