Back-Stabbing Skank

"I'll pick out two outfits, one which is disgusting and one nice and I'll ask my 'friend' what they think. If they go for the revolting one, I cut them out of my life."

Pairs Hilton on how she weeds out her friends

I am thinking about implementing this tactic in my personal life. This profound piece of wisdom, or the lack thereof, in this woman baffles me. Is this really the key to life on deciding who you should keep in your life? I mean if it is, then why did it take Paris to figure it out? I guess she is the Newton of our generation.

Next time I go out downtown, I'm going to ask one of my friends to pick out my outfit. If that bitch even thinks about picking the ugly outfit well she's axed. Fuck that friendship. On the other hand, I would like to think I don't possess any ugly clothes so that if any of my friends were to be in that situation they wouldn't really be able to screw me over, even if they were trying. I found the glitch in Paris' reasoning. This is definitely a complete day.

Does Paris know that drugs are not for kids. Does she know that cocaine is bad for her? She should keep it legal and stick to liquid cocaines. If any of you out there have not had a liquid cocaine, I will buy you one and even take one with you, but I can only take one on any one outing. Those things are potent. So pick a night and hold on tight.

The Big ONE Year Anniversary

The Summer of 2005 was just grand. I spent it interning in Chicago and it was one of the best times of my life even if it got lonely at times. In order to keep my mind off of being homesick and lonely without my friends and familia, all the lovely people in my life that I hold near and dear came to visit me. They think that they came to visit the gorgeous and best city in the whole United States of America, Chicago, but they really came to visit me, take me out of my loneliness, and experience the greatness that I yapped on and on and on about, or at least that's what they had me thinking. I LOVE Chicago and most of them left loving it too. I could see myself living there forever, but that's another story.

On August 13th, 2005, Mary flew into Chicago to come spend a marvelous 5 days with me and then help me pack and drive back to Texas. Those five days felt like the "Last Hurrah." My roommate, Danielle, came two days later and I can honestly say that those 5 days were the most unforgettable days I have ever had in my life. EVER. Well maybe not EVER, but they sure as hell are right up there with some of my best memories. I not only realized the awesome-ness of Chicago but also the bomb-dot-com quality of my friends (I mean this in all sincerity). I say that this is our Last Hurrah because after this week, both of my friends have been in committed relationships that they are still in today. Yuck! (Why would you give up the life you had before "relationships"?... I'm prejudice about this.) This was a Last Hurrah in another way as well. We had spent all junior year of college getting trashed and drunk from happy hours to 6th street, our newly attained 21-year-old status took our debauchery to new heights and away from frat houses! That's something to be excited about. When they came to Chicago, it felt like a continuation of the year, but this time in a bigger city, and a place where more venues of inebriation were available. Chicago! Chicago! In many ways, it's like Vegas, without the open containers and legalized gambling and prostitution. Not one night did we come home before sunrise, this was quite the novelty experience coming from Texas where bars stop serving at 2:00AM sharp!

On August 14th, Mary and I made, what turned out to be during her 5 day stint, our daily trip to H&M. In Texas, we don't have an H&M so we took full advantage of this opportunity. We had had a blast the night before, an utterly good time and felt our trip to H&M was highly deserved; however, the question throughout the day became: how will we top last night? We honestly thought that this was a near impossible feat. Which at the time and at the previous night's level of debauchery seemed rather impossible. (Sidenote: Many of the details of our Chicago happenings cannot be produced because the three of us firmly stand next to our Chicago mantra, however cliche it may be, What Happens In Chicago, Stays In Chicago.) Nonetheless, Mary was shopping for an outfit to wear that night. She made a purchase and then like real Indians (of the DOT not the FEATHER) we went home and took our daily nap. With partying until 7:00 in the morning, daily naps became essential. We would spend the rest of our afternoons eating foods from all my favorite restaurants that she had heard me rave about and then go site seeing. In order to validate how cultured I really can be, I can categorically say that Chicago has way much more than an active and incredible night life to offer. It has amazing architecture, some of the best museums to date, and some great history lying at every inch of the city in addition to shopping and Oprah. The summer weather in Chicago alone is to die for. Chicago really is magical as Mary proved on numerous occasions during her stay.

Many a times during our trip Mary had me in awe. That night was not any different. We began our night like every other night, pre-partying at the apartment (or in our case my dorm) and choosing our nightly destination with our trusty and handy-dandy friend, metromix.com. Mary and I had made our "going-out" decisions based purely on the information found on metromix.com. Being the Austinites and college students that we are, we tried to go to places that had cheap beer, a fun ambiance, and straight hip-hop booty music. Mary has a booty which she can no doubt shake like a salt shaker and is also why the music is sooo crucial in our decision. That night we decided we could pay cover because we wanted to go to a place that was more "bumpin'" and a little less college. We decided to go to the Gold Coast, aka Rush & Division, which turned out to be an even older crowd than what we had expected.

As we made our way down there, there were only two places that really seemed to have a huge crowd for a Sunday night. Since I had already been to the other place before and found it "Eh," we decided to go to Leg Room instead. As we walked in, we paid our cover, scoped out the place for any lookers (which Chicago severely lacks), and made our way to the bar. The crowd was late-20s, and early-mid 30's. We, the 21 year-olds, felt quite young, actually very young. In order to look pretentious and mainly because we were bored with the yuppie-wanna-be crowd and goldigging crowd surrounding us, we ordered our Miller Lites and traveled around the bar. We were already quite inebriated by the time we even got to the Gold Coast. With about 4 to 5 vodka shots each and my low tolerance, I was already in my state of alcoholic nirvana. Since sitting is hardly an option, I found myself, along with Mary, traveling around the bar, in my more comfortable of heels, thank goodness. As we passed the so-called VIP area, I noticed that the VIP was getting more attention than I'd ever seen any VIP in Austin receive, well this is before I saw Matthew McConaughey and Lance Armstrong out and about in Austin this grand summer of 2006. After blatant staring and many "Ohmygosh, I wonder who it could be-s," I finally saw some girls that were surrounding the VIP move. It was Charles Barkley. It was hard to tell that it was him at first. He wasn't dressed up and after "letting himself go" after his NBA career, he could've literally been incognito for all I knew. Despite the fact that he played for the Suns and the Rockets, I still wanted to meet him. I won't lie, I could barely tell who he was, but with a little bit of alcohol mixed in with my love for celebrities, it was definitely an opportunity I really didn't want to miss and had to jump on. I couldn't believe it, THE Charles Barkley was just mere inches away!

After getting excited about being in the same place as Charles Barkley at the same time as Charles Barkley, Mary and I decided that we were cool and attractive enough to be wanted in VIP (this, unfortunately, was due to our level of inebriation). So in the I-think-I-can-roll-with-celebrities-even-though-I'm-posing sort of way, we start making our trek over to the VIP area. This is when I almost had a hernia. On second thought, I did have a hernia. Some people in the VIP had moved around and that's when I saw him. He was not getting half the attention that he deserved and Mary didn't even know who he was, but I did. I knew. It was America's Team's fast-like-a-bullet running back of all times and Dallas Cowboys' Ring of Honor holder, Emmitt Smith. Oh! How I love thee. Apparently Chicago is NOT Dallas because no one was on Emmitt Smith's jock, well except for me of course. I was getting really hot and bothered and the most excited that I've ever been in a really long time.

Mary was not enthused and did not believe me when I told her that really was in fact Emmitt Smith. She said stupid things like, "Are you sure?" and "How do you know it's Emmitt Smith?" I wanted to smack her across the face at the latter question, but I love her, so I just said, "I'm from fucking Dallas, I love the Cowboys, the one person I could spot in any crowd is Emmitt Smith. Do you know who my mom is? She only gives birth to loyal Cowboys fans! She would be crapping in her pants right now!" Not like seeing my favorite football player could have really been topped at this point, it actually gets better. No shit. He then notices us; ok fine, he notices Mary (that ass of hers is really something). I was of course pissed because she doesn't even know who he is, why the fuck should she get his attention? Well actually, she does know who he is, but she doesn't have the same appreciation or love or adoration that I possess for him. He smiles at us, raises his glass of Don Perion at us, and then waves. I giggle and Mary acts like a complete snob by acting like she gets this kind of attention all the time, which, in her defense, she does. Earlier that summer, the G-Unit entourage sought her out for sexual escapades with Lloyd Banks which she did not pursue due to my adoration and devotion for him. I must admit she is a loyal friend, but you can also see that she is used to black athletes and rappers always giving her attention. She has also been kissed by LL Cool J, but that's another story. She really is a MaluPrincess when it comes celebrities or black guys. You can be the judge of that.

By this time I'm thinking, Now my mind is working. The alcohol is doing wonders. It makes me invincible. With this notion, I make my coy way to the "bathroom" which "coincidentally" happens to be right next to the VIP. As we head that way and we come out of the bathroom, Emmitt Smith is right next to the bathroom entrance and fate could not have made this any easier for me even if it tried. Seriously. We walk by him and as we are about to pass him, the thoughts of my mom shunning me and disowning me for not grabbing the opportunity to talk to Emmitt Smith when receiving the chance crossed my mind. I didn't want to be disowned! I had to do something! So, I tap him on his shoulder and spurt out, "My friend wants to do you." He then takes the back of Mary's head, leans in and gives her a kiss! A KISS. Can you believe it? I should've said, "I want to do you!" Needless to say, it was one of the few times in my life when I was actually jealous.

Nonetheless, being the attention-hungry human being that I am, I took the attention away from Mary, centered it to me and began my firing of multitudes of questions to Emmitt. He and I were officially homies by this point in the evening so I was at liberty to call him Emmitt. I began with telling him that I am originally from Dallas and that I am a huge Cowboys fan. I even was drunk enough to tell him that he lived in Pensacola, with his wife, children and mother. He went to UF and that he should have been embarassed of himself for making that stupid gator sign with his arm. He said that most people don't know that about him, but I confirmed his suspicions that I'm not most people. Obviously. He said the swamp was fun and I said, "Yeah for The Crocodile Hunter." That made me laugh, my joke that is. "Florida is for geezers and hurricanes," as my dad would say. I also told him my mom would be soo jealous of me right now and to that he so blatantly commented, "Does your mom look anything like you?" with a creepy-sexual look in his eye. The next 30 minutes or so were some of the most memorable minutes in my life. The following is a recount of what I remember and the only funny parts of our conversation. It does not in any way portray the full account of our conversation.

Mamta: So what are you doing in Chicago?
Emmitt: I'm looking to invest in financial real estate investment. Ya know? It's about money and stuff, not something you got to worries about girl. Ya know?
Mamta: Yeah. Is this what you're doing now that you're retired? You know you were a traitor when you left for the Cardinals? I was sad and I'm a business finance student at the University of Texas. [said with a "jack ass, I'm not trying to get inside your pants just because I love you" intonation]
Emmitt: Well what can you do. I hurt my knee so it doesn't matter too much. I'm retired now, you know. You a business girl? So what business are you girls doing tonight?
Mamta: I can't believe you retired, you're such a sissy. [I ignored the other question very apparently] One knee injury and you're out... if you ask me, you still have a couple of good years in you. You're just being a cop-out.

Mamta: So, do you still live in Pensacola? [probably the most stalker question I asked]
Emmitt: Yeah.
Mamta: Where are your Super Bowl rings? Why aren't you wearing them?
Emmitt: All that bling weighs me down. [points to his diamond stud earrings and watch] This bling is heavy enough as it is.
Mamta: So since you have like 3 Super Bowl Rings, can't you just give me one? Let me wear your watch, c'mon.
Emmitt: I'd let you wear one if I had them with me. I leave that at home, it's just too much bling and homegirl, I don't want that bling to fade, I keeps it at home. [isn't Emmitt a character?]

Emmitt: So what are you girls doing tonight? You want to come hang out with us?
Mamta: Don't you have a wife and three children?
Emmitt: Yeah.... so what are you up to tonight?
Mamta: Do you cheat on your wife regularly? Don't your vows mean anything to you?
Emmitt: [just keeps smiling and looking creepy-sexual]
Mamta: You're a pansy.
Emmitt: Well...[he just keeps smiling with a goofy look on his face mixed with a hinge of seductive pedophile.... Michael Jackson-esque]
Mamta: [Mary keeps nudging me because she's bored and doesn't want to talk to Emmitt any longer, or more like watch me talk to Emmitt any longer] Well, we're going to go, it was nice meeting you.
Emmitt: So what are you girls doing tonight? We're going to leave soon...so [I guess] we'll meet you outside in 20 minutes. [this is not a question, but more rather a statement to the girls in front of him (us) who he believes are groupies....yeah, Emmitt thinks I'm a groupie!!!!!]

Needless to say, I love Emmitt Smith and all, or I would not have remembered the one year mark of the day on which I met him, but I have principles (or so I would like to think) and I will not go home with a married man. I would hate to be his wife and even worse the "other woman," or in Emmitt's case "one of his many women." Mary didn't even give two shits about Emmitt Smith so she definitely didn't even contemplate the idea of going home with him that night. I won't lie, Emmitt Smith wanted this milkshake (hahaha) and I did not succumb (which wasn't as hard of a decision as I make it sound), but I am still really jealous that Mary kissed him, extremely jealous. I mean I wouldn't go make out with Cedric Benson, the love of her football life, even if I had the chance. August 14th, 2005 will go down in history as by far one of the most memorable days of my life. I finally got to meet my favorite football player of all times who also turned out to be one of the most despicable and dishonorable men I have ever met. I have now lowered my standards on celebrities having any moral principles, but commend the ones that do. Emmitt Smith, don't worry, you're still my favorite football player, well until Vince Young kicks ass in the NFL. I got his back, I mean I hung out with him before he became big. So you know, you gotta keep it gangsta and you definitely have to keep it real. You have given me many a good games and a childhood full of nothing but Dallas Cowboys domination of the NFL. Thank you. Even though you're short and not attractive, the next time you meet me, please kiss me. I can't let Mary feel that she has one up on me. It's just too hard to bear.

Gregory Gym: Steaming One Heart at a Time

The gym can be an intimidating place. Everyone at the gym is there for the sole purpose of looking better and feeling more fit. In general, the gym is a vain place to be, it is best to go there, have your headphones on, and act like you don't know who anyone is or that you are way too engrossed in your work out to give a damn about your surroundings: "HELLO... I am at the gym, where I am thinking about how my day sucked and working on turning my flab into abs, I do NOT have time for you!" Well that's what I thought until a couple of days ago. I go to the Gregory Gym (it's on the UT campus) and there are always some unattractive people there that just wear whatever they have and go to the gym to merely work out. I fall into this category. There are some people that go to the gym that dress up, or so you would think, just to work out and get attention and give attention, but mainly get attention. One my best girl friends falls under this category, I call her Turbo. These people are pretty hot though, I wont lie. There are some that don't have to do anything but show up to the gym, flex a couple of muscles, run a mile and they will still be hot. God damn and god bless you. I haven't made up my mind just yet. Thanks for being good eye candy, but fuck you for lowering my self-esteem.

One day I was at the gym, I was even dressed cute. Never in a million years did I think looking cute at the gym would be important to me, but it was a blessing that I looked like a presentable gym-goer on that day. I had been doing a ridiculous amount of cardio work out and hence building up my endurance which really worked in my favor. I am trying to drop pounds so that I can roll with Aishwarya Rai in Bollywood movies and of course at all the cool Mumbai clubs. I am not this fobby in "real life." Anyways, I usually just stay on the elliptical machine for an hour to get a good cardio workout. I usually select Interval Hills at Level 3, sometimes Level 5 if I want to challenge myself, on reverse mode. Only when I am on this machine do I even come close to comparing to Turbo's popularity at the gym. (Sidenote: When we go out to 6th street, where most college kids hang out, we will meet guys and they have, many a times, asked her, "Aren't you the girl from the gym?") I look like I rule the gym and I know I intimidate everyone because I'm going like 8.8-9.4 mph on the elliptical machine and that's pretty fast compared to everyone else that's around me on the machine. I don't mean to put others to shame but hey, if you got it, you got it and my momma said, "FLAUNT IT!" I don't want to subdue my god-given greatness on the elliptical machine.

On this one particular day, I chose to only work out on the elliptical for 30 minutes and spend the remaining 30 minutes on the treadmill. On the treadmill, I proceeded with interval training for 30 minutes, or 15 intervals of 1 minute of sprinting at 8.0 mph and 0 incline followed by 1 minute of fast walking at 3.5 mph at a 1.0% incline. This is how Jessica Simpson has her banging fine body and rock solid lower abdominal. Of course I want to look like Jessica Simpson, but who doesn't? Actually now that Ashlee Simpson got a nose job, I could want to look like her too. This is a toss up actually. Nonetheless, in my endeavor to look like one of the Simpson sisters, I was being "eyed" by a hot hot hot guy. I mean HOT! Steam was literally coming out of his orifices and he could be the next Dr. McSteamy, but I doubt he's a doctor. A pressing issue, I know. Since I didn't know his name, I called him "Steamy."

I do not know if I'm confident or in denial but I do not like to think that I am unattractive or even below average when it comes to appearances. While I was running on the treadmill, many were eyeing me, which I think is how it should be. I was wearing short shorts and a cute pink shirt from my IM volleyball days. When I say I was getting eyed, I mean I was getting eyed by some hotties. But no hottie could ever compare to Steamy who was on the mat area doing crunches with the medicine ball. He kept glancing over at me every couple of minutes and we would make eye contact and then smile. It was out of this world. Who in the hell would have thought someone that good looking would actually notice me? Especially while I was sweaty and disgusting? I felt that for once in my life, my horoscope was dead on. I was going to fall in love today for real. Woo hoo!

It's not until I was done with my interval training that I realized what his true intentions were. He saw me slow down and enter the "Cool Down" mode of my workout and look normal again when, as Salt-N-Pepa would say, "He started walking this way!" My heart was racing and my inner-Mamta was smiling ear-to-ear. I finished the "Cool Down" stage and eventually came to a full-stop on the treadmill. I found the bottle of anti-bacterial spray on the floor next to the treadmill and then picked it up and sprayed the treadmill console. I then proceeded to wipe it clean with the tarry cloth that was draping over the treadmill handles. After I cleaned and placed everything back in its correct position, I raised my glance and Steamy was a foot away from me, looking me straight in the eyes. I was officially weak-at-my-knees. Scarlett from Gone With the Wind could not have been any more in love. I saw every inch of his face and it was clear and smooth like a baby's butt. It was the best looking skin I'd ever seen in person, next to Ryan Cabrera. He opened his mouth, and with a twinkle in his eye, asked me, "Are you done with the treadmill?"

I heard the screeching noise that plays in movies when the girl or guy gets the shock that they were totally not expecting from the anyhow unrealistic situation that they are in. I should've known better, I'm only as good as the treadmill I run upon. Nothing more. I then answered, "Yeah" and proceeded with the rest of my workout. I was crushed. That moment will live on in my heart forever.

The "Boy Without A Social Life"

When I was younger and even today, I watched tons and tons of Indian movies, mainly because they're idealistic and give you hope that one day you too can run around fields singing songs with your true love. I don't know about you, but I like fields and I like running in saris so I am strongly holding onto this hope that I too one day can coordinate my sari with a yellow field of flowers and synchronize dance with my true love. I would never give it up for the world and I pity the fool that thinks they're above this. The only thing you're really above is a tub of ice cream with a spoon deciding which way you want to dig into the carton to get that whole piece of cookie out without breaking it and then put it in your mouth so that you too can get that happy dancing-in-the-field- with-my-sari-on feeling. Back to the subject, the only problem that arises in my planning is what song I want to sing and dance to. There are a couple of actors that are infamous for running through fields, and they look good doing it too. Namely, Shah Rukh Khan and Madhuri Dixit, they're field dancing excellence is portrayed quite perfectly in the Bollywood Superhit Dil to Pagal Hai. I mean, if I could run through fields, or even find a field to run through (I live in Texas, there are many fields, but none like the ones in a Bollywood Superhit), I would do it like Shah Rukh Khan and Madhuri Dixit. They're quite the cute on-screen couple, but they still don't have the same chemistry as Kajol and Shah Rukh Khan. Nonetheless, Dil to Pagal Hai is by far one of my two favorite Hindi movies of all time (Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge is the other). All throughout Dil to Pagal Hai, Madhuri Dixit whose name is Pooja in the movie, kept dancing around in fields by herself because she had no friends or a boyfriend or a sibling or anyone to dance with her. And she would just run around the fields by herself dreaming of a man, with her oordani (scarf) in the air, waving it around and humming and singing. In the movie, on Valentine's Day, she spends the night by herself, in her room, hugging a heart-shaped pillow ,and singing and dancing. I'm happy she's an optimist and all, but the girl definitely has no social life. So I coined her the name, "The Girl Without A Social Life" (As evidenced in the picture above, Madhuri Dixit would just run around fields in her white kameez and spin and frolic all by herself). Nicki, who also used to watch this movie with me every weekend, reviewed the facts that I had presented and even found other instances where Pooja's social life was really lacking. She then agreed that this was a befitting name to give Pooja and that Pooja really in fact was "The Girl Without A Social Life." Pooja and her lack of a social life only made us feel better because we definitely had a social life, each other. How cool were we? I know, I know, you wish your childhood was this cool too.

As you can see, I was an analytical thinker from a very early age. When I was younger and that movie had just come out, Nicki and I would sit at her place in Burleson (Kelly Clarkson's hometown... It's stupid to mention Burleson and not plug Kelly Clarkson. It's the biggest thing that's ever happened there) and watch it literally every Saturday afternoon for a good couple of months. I was only twelve or thirteen years old because that was the year Nicki got me a track suit for my thirteenth birthday since I was FINALLY becoming a teenager and entering the big leagues which she, the eleven year old, could never fully understand. I mean just because you're in the double digits doesn't mean you're as smart as a teenager. Not even someone that is 99 years old is as smart as a teenager. In true Mamta fashion, I went around telling everyone that, "I'm thirteen, teen! teen! teen!" Yeah, I was quite the corny 13 year old as were many other 13 year olds in my day and age. Hey, better corny that making babies, right?

Well back to the story, on one ordinary Saturday afternoon, Nicki and I were watching Dil to Pagal Hai and we didn't want to watch the dialogue part of the movie so we fastforwarded to all the songs. At this time in my life, I loved Indian movies because they had songs and American movies did not. Songs really make a movie better but Hollywood still hasn't figure out how to do this correctly and hence when they do try to make musicals they absolutely suck at them. Moulin Rouge may have been the closest they got, but still that doesn't compare to a Bollywood movie like Devdas where all the songs are glammed out and the sets are blinged out and the dance moves are just phenomenal. Indian dancing has 1,000,000 up on any other type of dancing, except for maybe river dancing. This is a topic for another blog on another day.

During this time in our innocent and carefree lives, Nicki and I were still part of Indu Auntie's hell-for-the-soul dance classes where we would practice endlessly the dances that Indu Auntie and Neha would choreograph (they weren't as good as they thought, but then again I was a crappy dancer, I have no room to talk). Let me go into Indu Auntie and her utter lack of tact, personality, or any hint of warmth in her communication with children. As a child, I abhorred her. As did many others. She did not have even one vocal cord that could accidentally say something sweet. The only advice she ever gave us when we were dancing was, "JERK IT!" She meant our hips; we never emphasized them enough and that was why we, the junior girls, sucked and would never be senior girls according to Indu Auntie (Senior girls were not necessarily better or worse dancers, they were just older, and hence, the "senior girls," if I hadn't quit, I would've been a senior girl at age 16). Well, that year my brother was in the little kids group and I must say he followed in my footsteps. He too sucked enough to where he was also placed in the back of the dance. Indu Auntie always tried to make me feel better by saying that I was tall and that's why she put me in the back. The song they did was "Koi Ladki Hai" from Dil to Pagal Hai and it was by far the best songs done that year, well except for our dance, "Radha Roopardhi." This was when my brother was cute, rambunctious, really gullible, and lots of fun to make fun of. This was also the one time when I wasn't better than him. This is where it all started; he became better than me in one thing at the ripe age of 8 and since then he gets better and better than me in other things. After a while, the only thing I'm going to be better than him at is sitting on my ass. He was also diagnosed with ADHD at this time so when he didn't take his ridlin, which was the case during the summers because academics weren't a pressing issue and hence, focus was not necessary, he was this over-hyper kid that could never concentrate a lick and ran around the house all day long. No wonder he's such a bean pole. His attention was in a million places at once at all times. So you can only imagine how a 60 year old, impatient, intolerant, tantrum-throwing woman like Indu Auntie must have felt with an uncontrollable

Vishal sucked so much at dancing that the three hours a day in dance class were not enough for him to learn the dance moves to about 20 seconds of a song. Just not enough. This is also the time when Vishal and I could not, no matter how much we didn't try, get along. At all. No way, no how. Thank goodness Nicki was with us at the time, she would spend time after dance class teaching Vishal how to dance while I would sit in the gameroom going, "Nicki you're teaching him all wrong, you're no good at this." Yeah, I was a mean kid. Nicki and Vishal could probably write a blog about it and keep it going for at least a year if they both wrote stories in it. I might actually write a some of my favorite stories about how I was mean to both of them. It was fun. I wouldn't have traded it for the world.

I digress. Poor Nicki, she had to learn the moves for not only our junior girls' dance but then also Vishal's dance. Vishal's lack of coordination and inability to synchronize dance really scored him some loser points, not only with me, but with his peers as well. The charm that he has now, wasn't quite developed back then. He would go to class and have no one talk to him and he would sit by himself and play with only one of the 6 boys in his dance. That boy would only hang out with Vishal only when the other boys weren't around. The one boy only befriended Vishal because 1) his sister was in my dance so he had to wait for her and 2) the other boys weren't around. During our dance practice was the only time when the other boy and my brother would hang out. When the other boys were around, Vishal might as well have been a fly on the wall. He was always excluded. It was really sad. Vishal had become "The Boy Without A Social Life." His social life consisted of Nicki and me. I was nice to him at dance practice but only at dance practice because I felt sorry for him and he was my brother and even then, I would have kicked anyone's ass if they messed with him because he was such a bailo (mamma's boy) and he couldn't fend for himself.

"The Boy Without A Social Life" did not have an oordani or a field to dance in. He had no music in the background to frolic to. The only thing he had was no friends or coordination or any dance moves. That is how "The Boy Without A Social Life" came about. He has a social life now, but that only happened after he had a growth spurt. He has charm now and he is no longer diagnosed with ADHD. He is still a bailo however as he just won the Bailo Award from his youth group. Some things just don't change. Don't think for even a minute that "The Boy Without A Social Life" got screwed when he was younger though. When he actually did do his dance at India Night that year he did really well. At the show, when some of the other boys messed up, he didn't. He hit every dance move right and he was spectacular. He blew Indu Auntie out of the water. He did well in the clutch, which is when and where it only counts; he gets that from his sister.

Heidi vs. Kristin

If you're anywhere near cool or awesome then you definitely watch the shows The Hills and Laguna Beach: The Real Orange County. Laguna was the original show and it centered around Kristin (pictured to the left), who has been spotted with Nick Lachey, Stephen (her boyfriend at the time), and Lauren (pictured below), better known as "LC" and Kristin's arch-nemesis. Lauren, while on Laguna, had a hardcore crush on Stephen who has been her best friend since they were children. They were seniors and Kristin was a junior. Kristin was the apple of Stephen's eye. Kristin absolutely, positively, without a doubt, hated LC and vice versa. This of course placed a strain on Stephen; however, when Stephen and Kristin broke up, Stephen shacked up with LC. Sneaky, dirty, and scandalous. That's the only kind of TV I watch. By the time the second season of Laguna came to a halt, LC had come back from her first year of college in San Fran and decided to go to LA to FIDM and was spending her summer months transitioning in at where she makes her home, Laguna Beach. During the summer she meets Jason, who cheats on her with his ex-girlfriend, of course, and then they break up and she leaves for LA pissed off at him and never wanting to hear from him again.

Of course, the brains at MTV are in full force and they come up with the concept of having LC's new life in LA being taped. They name this show The Hills. I don't live in California but if that's what they want to name it, hey, they can name it that... and I will still watch it every Wednesday night at 9PM with Danielle on our couch. I am infatuated with bullshit reality-TV like this. Anyhow, I digress. LC's move to LA entails several things in addition to the new life that she will now be leading without the drama of Kristin and Stephen: 1) She will be attending fashion school full-time at FIDM; 2) She will be living with her best friend, Heidi (pictured below) who she met in San Francisco while they were at the Art Institute; 3) She has a bad-ass internship at Teen Vogue that she most definitely does not have the merits for, this has raised great speculation on MTV's role in "paying off" Lisa Love, the Editor of Teen Vogue, to hire her; and 4) She reunited with Jason, who has also moved to LA, and they are now in a relationship. LC has a new change of life and obviously has many new challenges and blah blah blah.

This post has nothing at all to do with LC, except that I will be conducting a character analysis of Kristin and Heidi, who have been apart of LC's life at one point or another, and how they share similar and simultaneously, quite dissimilar characteristics and personality traits. It has been brought to my attention on several occasions that Heidi reminds many viewers of Kristin, which can be reasonable and ludacris on many accounts. I have many issues with LC's decision to not go to Paris though, so believe me, you will hear my opinions on that load-of-shit type of behavior. I have no desire to write anything profound as you can tell by the topics of my posts thus far. This is due to the fact that I read quite a bit and I get all the profoundness I desire and need from that activity alone. Further, my life is quite mundane and analyzing human behavior is one of my favorite pasttimes and its rather insightful. My friends have told me they learn quite a bit from my people watching and analytical skills.

Anyways, back to the point. Heidi reminds many Laguna viewers of Kristin not only because of appearances but because of their personalities as well.

Heidi vs. Kristin - Similarities

• They both have very similar appearances: blonde hair, stature, height, weight, body frame, and facial structure.
• They both get extremely worked up over mindless and insignificant drama
• They are both boy crazy
• Both are so self-absorbed that they can't even successfully have too many friends or people in their lives
• They are both spoiled and too accustomed to living the "high life"
• Both get too many boys - Heidi got her job through a guy she met out one night... what does that tell you? Kristin had Stephen, Talan, and I think Jeff (the guy that Jessica had a mini-crush on) that wanted her... including I'm sure many others that we just never saw on television
• Both complain too much and have annoying voices when they complain and are not great at taking constructive criticism
• They both have superiority complexes as apparent in Kristin's demeanor and Heidi's self-over-assured dialogue
• Both have very controversial relationships in which they constantly bicker in a non-cute or healthy manner with their boyfriends and make complete asses out of themselves in public places

Heidi vs. Kristin - Differences

• Heidi only wanted to attend school in order to be a party promoter; Kristin wanted to go to college because it was the next progressive step to take
  
• Heidi knows how to think about others, especially those that matter to her the most (e.g. she went home with Lauren on New Year's even though she had a boyfriend to kiss at midnight); Kristin does not have much of a conscious, her intentions are malicious and she knows that they are and still proceeds to follow through on ill-willed actions (e.g. She made out with a guy that her best friend Jessica was interested in and did not even sincerely apologize)
• Heidi has ambitions - being a party planner; Kristin does not know what to aim for or how to make goals, well other than how to steal men away from other girls
• Heidi does not talk like a 4 year old or even like a valley girl, she has moments where she comes off immature or even stubborn, but Kristin always sounds like a valley girl that's up to no good
• Heidi and her ex-boyfriend, Jordan, were good together and could give constructive advice to Lauren and Jason when they had problems, but Kristin and Stephen could never get to that level. They could never stop fighting over small things, ever or Lauren being in Stephen's life.
• Heidi treats her friends like family while Kristin screws them over like family
  
• Kristin does throw some great parties at her house, but Heidi throws parties at clubs and gets paid to do so
• Kristin dates famous people while Heidi only lets them through the doors at parties

Many more differences exist; however, I do not want to go any further, I think I've made my point. Heidi clearly has a soul and heart while Kristin's are quite questionable to be frank. Despite their physical similarities, there are many character traits that separate the two blonde bombshells of MTV reality-TV. I do not know how much more I could compare and contrast the two girls of rich California backgrounds, but I can say that this show does not do enough justice to Heidi. Who knows if Kristin has a nice streak. Who knows?