Another Mortal Life

Chandni would like us to reveal 10 secrets/facts about ourselves hitherto not discussed on this blog..

1. I like tomboys. My second crush was perhaps the most tomboyish of all the girls in my school then. Though my preferences have matured (as has she :P), I still find it quite easy to interact with tomboys.
2. I happen to catch something I call 'Love at Last Sight' syndrome quite frequently.
3. I'm left-handed. Writing and eating are perhaps the only tasks I do with my right hand. This mix of natural left-handedness and acquired right-handedness lands me into weird situations sometimes. E.g. even extending a hand for a hand-shake requires me to think first!
(First time I realized the world was a conspiracy theory was when I tried to hold a pair of right-handed scissors.)
4. I need a constant change. I'd switch from one movie to another, then would come back to first, then would check mail/orkut/blog and after that would finish the second movie.. and this is only the most simplified version of it.
5. My hairline is receding. It's nightmarish. The easiest solution I find for it is to get the hair trimmed as soon as it's 3 mm. Thank God, men have got easy lives.
6. I'm quite short, quite thin, quite weak, quite masochistic, and I generally prefer to keep quiet about all these.
7. I'd prefer a hot coffee to a cold one, even on the hottest day in summers. And I like it slow. It happens sometimes that I get a coffee from insti nescafe, and reach my hostel with a part of it still remaining.
8. This was quite real. Well, most of it was.
9. I like to play songs that people around me don't like. The volume is proportionate to the possible dislike. When I listen to the songs everybody likes, I prefer a low volume.
10. One thing the hostel mess has taught me is 'everything eatable is welcome'. Now that makes my life difficult when placing an order at a restaurant. "Kuchh bhi mangaa lo" is what I tell the ones accompanying me, but if they get insistent I'd prefer something I haven't heard of in the mess for a long time. I mean, I won't ask for anything whose crappier version is fresh in my memory.
[Sometimes, at home, Mom asks which of the food items she prepared was better relatively. How do I tell her that the food I get in the mess has brought my taste-recognition range to such low levels that I can't distinguish between things 5, 10 or 100 times better! ]

PHEW!