<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17232651</id><updated>2012-02-16T09:53:23.306-08:00</updated><title type='text'>(Mis)adventures of a single twenty-something</title><subtitle type='html'>So I'm a single twenty-something year old. My single-ness has been a topic of conversation for a while and I'd like to set the record straight. Yes, I'm single. No, my life is NOT devoid of companionship, love, devotion or compassion. It is most definitely not lacking in adventure and friendship. And lastly, no, I am not alone.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://konkanicoconut.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17232651/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://konkanicoconut.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>PurpleTurtle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17232651.post-8383349941089855183</id><published>2012-02-16T06:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-16T06:56:23.830-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr. Dobalina</title><content type='html'>In 14 years:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I graduated high school and then went on to get a Bachelor’s degree (I learned to love math by the way) &lt;br /&gt;I moved to the U.S. You were wrong. It IS a great place to live.&lt;br /&gt;I’ve read hundreds of books. Dozens of terrible ones, and even more that have changed my life a little.&lt;br /&gt;I’ve had my heart broken more times that I would have liked or imagined possible when I was 12.&lt;br /&gt;I taught myself how to drive and cook and comfort myself when I have nightmares. &lt;br /&gt;I still remember how to change tires. &lt;br /&gt;I still chew my nails and crack my knuckles. I still shake my leg when I’m sitting, just like you.&lt;br /&gt;I’m still a terrible athlete. Sorry.&lt;br /&gt;I’ve taken dozens of vacations all over the world. I even took one all by myself.&lt;br /&gt;I’ve watched a lot of plays. You would have loved them all. &lt;br /&gt;I’ve eaten loads of steaks and drank more Bloody Mary’s than I’m proud to admit. I’ve met a lot of interesting people and made a lot of friends. &lt;br /&gt;I’ve done a lot of cool new things that I wish I could tell you about.&lt;br /&gt;It’s been 14 years and I still think of you almost every single day. I hope you’re well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17232651-8383349941089855183?l=konkanicoconut.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://konkanicoconut.blogspot.com/feeds/8383349941089855183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17232651&amp;postID=8383349941089855183' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17232651/posts/default/8383349941089855183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17232651/posts/default/8383349941089855183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://konkanicoconut.blogspot.com/2012/02/mr-dobalina.html' title='Mr. Dobalina'/><author><name>PurpleTurtle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17232651.post-2763062579668658517</id><published>2010-09-01T14:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T14:17:24.377-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Appetizzle</title><content type='html'>Me: I don't feel well. I think I'm getting sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiki: Oh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: I think I'm running a temperature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiki: Oh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: I think I should go home early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiki: Yeah, maybe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 hours later...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kiki: You haven't finished your oreos yet? Dude, you must be getting sick!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17232651-2763062579668658517?l=konkanicoconut.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://konkanicoconut.blogspot.com/feeds/2763062579668658517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17232651&amp;postID=2763062579668658517' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17232651/posts/default/2763062579668658517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17232651/posts/default/2763062579668658517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://konkanicoconut.blogspot.com/2010/09/appetizzle.html' title='Appetizzle'/><author><name>PurpleTurtle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17232651.post-1076253176885349242</id><published>2010-08-19T18:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-21T17:14:12.122-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Middle ground, Where art thou?</title><content type='html'>So I've been having a little trouble with the men in my life lately (which is the reason for the delay in posting) but instead of focusing on them, I'd like to give a HUUUUUUGE shout-out to the women in my life that answer my incoherent phone calls at 3 am and make it all better. I'm sorry, I love y'all. I do not know what I would do without these amazing amazing people in my life and honestly with them by my side all these douchebags can just "bring it coz i gots an army of my own".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on... I went on an online dating website because of some prodding and pushing from some people that shall remain nameless *cough*cough* my sister and mom. It was really bizarre... like picking a dish from a very detailed and extensive menu. Blood type? Am I really allowed to be THAT picky?? Anyways, I was just browsing without committing to make a profile of my own and spotted a guy that was cute and had some interesting things to say about himself. He also had an out of website email account so I went ahead and emailed him a cutesy email asking him some questions I had from his profile (where he's traveled and what he does etc. etc.). I get a response the next day saying "hey. Thanks for your email. Here is my phone number give me a call so we can talk. Can you send me some pictures of yourself?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was pretty surprised he didn't ask for my hourly rate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay so I completely understand where he's coming from but why on earth does it need to be this way? I get that by the time people get to the point that they are on ine dating websites they are pretty fed up of the preliminaries, but isn't this a bit much? He didn't even answer ONE of my questions. What would have happened if he hadn't liked my pictures but told me he had been to Africa? This is all so cut and dry that my cute little friendly email to him is just hanging its head in shame. Needless to say, I am definitely NOT ready to give up on romance for this business transaction approach to meeting people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing I'm noticing is the polarity between the Indian and the Western concept of dating. Indians take such a pragmatic approach (which is surprising considering 90% of bollywood movie content). You basically pick a partner weighing their socio-economic status, family values and religious background. All very important parameters for a healthy meaningful relationship. The western approach is a bit more whimsical. Atleast initially, attraction trumps all else. It's like most people live by the motto "I might like you better if we slept together". While I don't condone such a shallow approach to dating I would be remiss if I didn't mention that this (attraction above all else) is the approach I have favored in the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not judging either approach but by being the flower child of both worlds, I have to ask....where is the happy medium?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17232651-1076253176885349242?l=konkanicoconut.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://konkanicoconut.blogspot.com/feeds/1076253176885349242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17232651&amp;postID=1076253176885349242' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17232651/posts/default/1076253176885349242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17232651/posts/default/1076253176885349242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://konkanicoconut.blogspot.com/2010/08/middle-ground-where-art-thou.html' title='Middle ground, Where art thou?'/><author><name>PurpleTurtle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17232651.post-8494704791127737487</id><published>2010-08-06T15:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T15:49:15.826-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Yesterday was a fun day. I got out of work at 5.30 and began the 90 mile thursday drive home. One of the big plusses to commuting is that I get to catch up with people on the drive. On my Monday mornings I usually call my mom or my grandparents in India (since I leave at 5am) and on Thursdays I catch up with friends that I haven't spoken to in a while or those that have moved away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a sushi dinner with namsquashy and then went for drinks with P-money. Fun thing about P is that no matter how long it's been since we've last hung out, the conversation flows ceaselessly and comfortably. Don't you love those kinds of friendships?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Topic of discussion: women and their insecurities. We realised that no matter how strong, successful, capable or beautiful a woman is, she is usually insecure about something or the other. It might be her skin or her hair or her weight. There is always something weighing her down. It probably is because woman are a lot more self aware than men. It's just how we are conditioned to be. We probably don't need to lose the 20lbs or have a face full of makeup. I doubt that the condition of my pedicure has any sort of lasting impact on my life but I am still conditioned to think that every little bit counts. I find this hilarious everytime I'm at the pool and I find myself sucking in my tummy and being extremely modest about my appearance whereas the 200lb man with a sweater of hair has stripped off his shirt and is cannonballing into the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We came to the conclusion that we're awesome the way we are and that people that want us to change should just go and shove it :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ended the night by dancing with the crazy crew. Unfortunately none of the crew was feeling too crazy so I ended up pretty much dancing alone. Was still fun though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Current state of my lovelife:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G59rm1d0gCo/TFyRINZSCxI/AAAAAAAADQ0/FrtRFYosnTw/s1600/Untitled.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502432414960585490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G59rm1d0gCo/TFyRINZSCxI/AAAAAAAADQ0/FrtRFYosnTw/s320/Untitled.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G59rm1d0gCo/TFyQwC2TxeI/AAAAAAAADQs/rW9sB83rNXU/s1600/Untitled.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G59rm1d0gCo/TFyQwC2TxeI/AAAAAAAADQs/rW9sB83rNXU/s1600/Untitled.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G59rm1d0gCo/TFyQwC2TxeI/AAAAAAAADQs/rW9sB83rNXU/s1600/Untitled.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17232651-8494704791127737487?l=konkanicoconut.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://konkanicoconut.blogspot.com/feeds/8494704791127737487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17232651&amp;postID=8494704791127737487' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17232651/posts/default/8494704791127737487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17232651/posts/default/8494704791127737487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://konkanicoconut.blogspot.com/2010/08/yesterday-was-fun-day.html' title=''/><author><name>PurpleTurtle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G59rm1d0gCo/TFyRINZSCxI/AAAAAAAADQ0/FrtRFYosnTw/s72-c/Untitled.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17232651.post-8480417258698734426</id><published>2010-08-04T19:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-04T20:06:48.022-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today was a crazy busy day at work. I did manage to get my giggles in though. Everytime someone asks me for an erection drawing, clearly meaning this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G59rm1d0gCo/TFoifs3bGsI/AAAAAAAADQE/q4Du2OJJ4VE/s1600/erection.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501747822801394370" style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 210px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G59rm1d0gCo/TFoifs3bGsI/AAAAAAAADQE/q4Du2OJJ4VE/s320/erection.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't help but want to send them this instead:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G59rm1d0gCo/TFojR2_n0GI/AAAAAAAADQM/j584hSFzXII/s1600/pp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501748684513595490" style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 280px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G59rm1d0gCo/TFojR2_n0GI/AAAAAAAADQM/j584hSFzXII/s320/pp.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Yes, I drew that myself. I know, I'm extremely talented.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear every time people talk about nipples or 20' pipe that &lt;em&gt;just&lt;/em&gt; won't fit in the hole (industry jargon- will not bore you with details) I giggle because unbeknownst to you all, I'm an 8 yr old boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways after work I went for yoga with my friend JC (who is awesome because he's on a vegan diet, has a crazy dry sense of humor and can be convinced to go to yoga). We struggled through class and I came home to make some soul food. Honest to blog, there is no more comforting sound/smell in this universe to me than that of the sizzling mustard and chili peppers hitting the boiling lentils. *Sigh* It always makes me feel like home. JC gets some for lunch because it's all vegan and he's secretly become my little science experiment. I really enjoy white people's reactions to odd indian food and vegetables. On tap for tomorrow is tindoora. We'll see what he thinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently listening to: Rufus Wainwright- Complain De La Butte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The entire song is in french with only one line in english which I absolutely LOVE: "The stairway to La Peter can make the wretched sigh, while windmill winds of the Moulin shelter you and I". &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17232651-8480417258698734426?l=konkanicoconut.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://konkanicoconut.blogspot.com/feeds/8480417258698734426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17232651&amp;postID=8480417258698734426' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17232651/posts/default/8480417258698734426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17232651/posts/default/8480417258698734426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://konkanicoconut.blogspot.com/2010/08/today-was-crazy-busy-day-at-work.html' title=''/><author><name>PurpleTurtle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G59rm1d0gCo/TFoifs3bGsI/AAAAAAAADQE/q4Du2OJJ4VE/s72-c/erection.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17232651.post-7218583758564804441</id><published>2010-08-04T19:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-04T20:08:19.482-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G59rm1d0gCo/TFogCugrRLI/AAAAAAAADPs/Z8mW3Gaxca0/s1600/IMG_4501.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501745126003393714" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G59rm1d0gCo/TFogCugrRLI/AAAAAAAADPs/Z8mW3Gaxca0/s320/IMG_4501.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yesterday my roommate (keeks) and I made pasta. This is a recipe my aunt made when the family was in italy and it turned out fabulous! It's a simple pasta with italian sausage, eggplant and zucchini. We ended up making so much that we both had enough for lunch this afternoon.. yay! Ofcourse we were drinking the whole time we were cooking so I wasn't sure how it &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; turned out until this afternoon. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G59rm1d0gCo/TFogrEohz0I/AAAAAAAADP8/lxj0-dOsB-4/s1600/IMG_4508.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501745819136675650" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G59rm1d0gCo/TFogrEohz0I/AAAAAAAADP8/lxj0-dOsB-4/s320/IMG_4508.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look all gross and sweaty because I "worked out". Truth is, I really really tried to go running but my knee started acting up so I just came back home after "running" a half mile. I did, however, discover that my roommate owns a jumprope (seriously, how awesome is he?!)... so I jumped rope (jump roped?) for a little bit before cooking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The topic of dicussion over dinner was High-End Hookers and what really makes them high-end. I believe it's the clientele (mostly senators) and the location they perform their services at (hotel/motel). Funnily enough while we were watching Law and Intent Criminal Order or whatever the main story revolved around a "high-end hooker" who kills her senator client. Haha. One point for me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently listening to the Black Keys: Chop and Change.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17232651-7218583758564804441?l=konkanicoconut.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://konkanicoconut.blogspot.com/feeds/7218583758564804441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17232651&amp;postID=7218583758564804441' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17232651/posts/default/7218583758564804441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17232651/posts/default/7218583758564804441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://konkanicoconut.blogspot.com/2010/08/so-yesterday-my-roommate-keeks-and-i.html' title=''/><author><name>PurpleTurtle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G59rm1d0gCo/TFogCugrRLI/AAAAAAAADPs/Z8mW3Gaxca0/s72-c/IMG_4501.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17232651.post-4727737003810521962</id><published>2010-08-04T10:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-04T12:09:08.357-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chronicles of Singledom</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Being single is definitely as challenging as being in a relationship. The challenge, however, is learning to be comfortable with yourself and trying to adapt to being by yourself instead of trying to adapt to having someone around you. There are many benefits (obviously) to being in a relationship, but I’d like to share some of the finer aspects of being single (none of which have ANYTHING to do with the permissibility of promiscuity).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone once said that finding your one true love is important so that you can have a witness to your life and your achievements.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I write this blog with the hopes that you all will become witnesses to my journey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I begin with my day-to-day shenanigans, here is a photographic recap of what I’ve been up to over the last few years. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some of the shows I've watched. I've been to a lot more independent theatre but unfortunately cannot find any images of the programs. The best show I've seen, however, has been a production of the Timekeepers at the Houston Holocaust Museum. There were 4 other people in the audience and 4 actors. Everyone was in tears by the end of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G59rm1d0gCo/TFm5Oc9IzwI/AAAAAAAADPk/X3y8rhEYzY8/s1600/Shows.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G59rm1d0gCo/TFm5Oc9IzwI/AAAAAAAADPk/X3y8rhEYzY8/s320/Shows.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501632077751701250" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some of the places I've been. I've been extremely fortunate to be able to travel the way I do and it is something I find tremendously cathartic. There is absolutely nothing more enlightening and unburdening than travel and I hope to do a lot more of it in the years to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_G59rm1d0gCo/TFm5JkJeRiI/AAAAAAAADPc/2xBpP7AfcD8/s1600/travel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_G59rm1d0gCo/TFm5JkJeRiI/AAAAAAAADPc/2xBpP7AfcD8/s320/travel.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501631993783141922" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is life without a little adventure? I try to consistently do things I haven't done before. I'm all for new experiences even though almost 90% of them scare the living wits out of me. I think I thrive on the drama of it all :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G59rm1d0gCo/TFm5As8UaEI/AAAAAAAADPU/OaRg0EWCZxI/s1600/adventure.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G59rm1d0gCo/TFm5As8UaEI/AAAAAAAADPU/OaRg0EWCZxI/s320/adventure.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501631841525065794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/17232651-4727737003810521962?l=konkanicoconut.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://konkanicoconut.blogspot.com/feeds/4727737003810521962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=17232651&amp;postID=4727737003810521962' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17232651/posts/default/4727737003810521962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/17232651/posts/default/4727737003810521962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://konkanicoconut.blogspot.com/2010/08/chronicles-of-singledom.html' title='Chronicles of Singledom'/><author><name>PurpleTurtle</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G59rm1d0gCo/TFm5Oc9IzwI/AAAAAAAADPk/X3y8rhEYzY8/s72-c/Shows.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
