Annual End of Year Reflection

1.      What did you do in 2011 that you'd never done before?

i)                    Got my first paying full time job (in dollaz, bitches. And it made the Scrooge in me vewy happy)

ii)                  Went to a sex shop(s)

iii)                Lived in the shadiest neighbourhood possible, full of crackwhores and hobos, where every night there would be the regular whee-ooo of police cars and ambulances

iv)                Discovered vintage shopping. And LOVED it.

v)                  Went to the ballet, professional English theatre.

vi)                Will be turning 20 in exactly six days (noooooo)

vii)              Had a pet cat (Toby for four months)

viii)            Realized that I wanted to go to med school and did not in fact want to be a biochemist

ix)                Sleepover with both sexes with parental permission

x)                  Decided that I was going to stop being a mindless consumer, and follow the mantra of ‘create more, consume less’

xi)                Took my mum to a bar in gay village for a drink, and enjoyed it thoroughly

xii)              Got asked out by a white man- a metalhead from a band working at a record store

xiii)            Got hit on by homeless men (wtf)

xiv)            Met a friend’s bastard ex and quite liked him. Had a massive adventure together, the first evening we met involving a homeless old lady who’d been arrested for trespassing and assaulting a cop with a dangerous object, a 911 call, drug dealers, a ginormous drunken man and his cronies who wouldn’t stop interrogating us and kept menacingly referring to the gold ring on my finger and the lateness of the hour (12:30am) and so on. We both got out of it alive and unscathed.

xv)              Lost and got my passport returned by a girl I’d never met (GOD BLESS YOU ZUCKERBERG AND FACEBOOK!)

xvi)            Bought and wore deep crimson lipstick- next stop bright red :D

xvii)          Really, really, really got into webcomics- IloveyouQC!

xviii)        Ate red velvet and hated it

xix)            WENT TO A CONCERT! IRON AND WINE BABAY! (Not counting classical and Tolly club stuff with the ‘rents)

xx)              Learned to cook properly

xxi)            Lived in Toronto and loved it!

xxii)          Got hooked on to 8tracks and started creating mixes- discovered the term hipster and realized that me and my friends probably are the textbook definition

xxiii)        Got a third ear piercing- cartilage of upper ear =D (which hurt like a bitch)

xxiv)        Lived in the same room, shared a bed with my mum for 8 months of the year

xxv)          Got fired (sort of) from a job

xxvi)        Had a complete nervous breakdown with hyperventilating and all.

xxvii) Ate wasabi and hated it. Ate fried pork cheek and octopus balls and love em :D

2. Did you keep your new years resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

Erm I don’t remember em but I’m guessing they involved losing weight and being more focused, so no, not really.

Of course I will!

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

No.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Yeah. A very, very good man- greatly missed and fondly remembered.

5. What countries did you visit?

Canada, India. Same as last year.

6. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?

Inner peace. Better grades. Significant involvement in a cause I’m committed to, an extracurricular I love. The right significant other? Better hair. More compassion and thoughtfulness. Patience. Better time management. A fitter and healthier body. The ability to see a good story through the initial few chapters to the very end. The start of a long term research involvement. The opposite of my usual inertia and ennui. Confidence.

7. What date from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory and why?

I sort of suck at dates.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Getting on Dean’s Honour Roll.

Getting with the plan and bagging the job I really wanted at a major hospital.

9. What was your biggest failure?

Getting fired.

Losing my temper more frequently than House popped pills.

Not getting involved in any long term extracurricular and being a flake.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Yeah. My bloody knee’s fucked up cuz apparently now that I’m 20, my body wants to make me realize I’m aging (wtf, body?)

11. Whose behaviour merited celebration?

The doctor-lady who talked me through my nervous breakdown and let me breathe for the first time in a month. Both of my grandmas’ for being strong women, my brother’s for surviving without my mum for 8 months

12. Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed?

T and P for the fight. But they made up, thank God.

13. Where did most of your money go?

Starbucks? Junk food, I think. Eating out. I should really start cooking more.

14. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Back in April when I thought I’d have the time to write for the college paper. Getting my job at the hospital. Going back to Cal for the holidays.

15. What song will always remind you of 2011?

Erm. Possibly Crystallise by xx? But that’s just because I heard it a few days ago and really like it. To be honest, I discovered way too much good music this time but nothing jumps out at me as a 2011 marker.

Ooh! Maybe ‘While my Guitar Gently Weeps’ because I fell in love with The Beatles all over again, and played this wonderful, wonderful song on loop over and over. And maybe ‘In My Life’ and ‘Norwegian Wood’. And ‘Michelle’. Oh hell, The Beatles.

16. Compared to this time last year, are you happier or sadder?’

Er. I dunno. I’m more volatile but also more chilled I guess. This time last year I’d just ended an absolutely horrible term and was absolutely convinced that I was a mediocre failure of a person. So yeah, more chilled-ish. Happy….grateful more like.

17. What do you wish you'd done more of?

Studying, writing, thinking before I burst out with a retort, talking to grandparents and the brother.

18. What do you wish you'd done less of?

Brooding, procrastinating, letting my short temper and sharp tongue get the better of me just cuz it was easy, watching T.V, eating junk.

19. How will you be spending Christmas?

I know exactly how cuz it’s tomorrow! I’ll be packing like a madwoman, going over to a very cool aunty’s place, walking along Yonge Street watching the lights and going out in the evening with a housemate and mum to either ISKON or Wendy’s Belgian Waffle Place or Pizzarustica for heavenly tiramisu and dinner.

20. Did you fall in love in 2011?

Na, I didn’t even slip slightly.

21. How many one night stands?

None.

22. What was your favourite TV programme?

House. Criminal Minds. Gossip Girl. Modern Family. HIMYM. After Tyra’s ‘written’ a waste of trees, I feel ashamed to even say I watched Top Model. Even as a guilty pleasure. Blech.

23. What was the best book you read?

I read SO many good books! I LOVE YOU TORONTO PUBLIC LIBRARY!

The Poisonwood Bible. Norwegian Wood. The Bell Jar. Beatrice and Virgil. I’m starting Kafka on the Shore tonight.

I started  reading Terry Pratchett thanks to Linds, and for this alone she has my undying devotion. All of the ‘Wee Free Men’ series. Remains of The Day.  I read a lot of Agatha Christie and I’m very happy about it.

AAAH ‘FAHRENHEIT 451’ AND ‘1984’. 

24. What was your greatest musical discovery?

Leonard Cohen and The Beatles though of course I’d listened to em before. Happy, happy fixation you could call it. The Dandy Warhols!

I discovered xx so that’s as indie as I get. Mazzy Star. The Gorillaz :D Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, Led Zepp phase, The Weepies phase, Radiohead, Madeleine Peyroux. Bon Iver, The Arctic Monkeys, Yael Naim, John Mayer phase, Tracy Chapman, Sha’air +Func- some of. Marvin Gaye, Melissa Etheridge for ‘I’m the Only One’ alone, Yeah Yeah Yeahs for ‘Heads Will Roll’ alone. Just discovered Prince- will be listening to a lot more of him, I think.

Yeah, I listened to a lot of awesome music this year. That was my only constant.

25. What did you want and get?

The aforementioned job and Dean ’s list.

26. What did you want and not get?

Oof. This makes me feel like such a whiner man. See number 6.

27. What was your favourite film of this year?

Er. I have no idea, sorry. I watched Coraline completely, and I loved that.

28. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

Coming up on the 30^th. Turning 20. Totally unprepared. I know 18 is the official age, but I feel like 20 means you’re actually an adult and OHMYGOD IDON”TWANTTOBEONE!

29. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Getting my act together. A best friend on the same continent. In case you haven’t noticed, I am unable to ever pick ONE thing.

30. What kept you sane?

Trisha, Piu. Tony. Ma drove me nuts and helped hold me together in equal measure.
Blogging.

31. Who was the worst new person you met?
I actually met quite a few odious people this time. C, J, Lav. Met an old friend after many years and quite disliked him.

32. Who was the best new person you met?
Shalmi, Emily, Eric, and Annesha I haven’t met in the flesh yet, but hopefully soon :)

33. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learnt in 2011.

Honesty is not always the best policy at the work-place.

Get out of the house more. It’ll make you happy and doesn’t always have to mean getting smashed and going clubbing.

Make and keep friends. Friends are useful.

Consistency is SO very important.

If you use food as a crutch, honey, your waistline will grow.

The key to happiness is looser clothes (draw the line at the point where you look like you’re wearing a sack).
Kindness is underrated. And so, SO important.

34. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

Des Yeux Qui Font Baisser Les Miens 

For no reason other than I don’t understand what it means, and I think it’s beautiful. And I spent a large part of the year not knowing what I want, what to do, or understanding where the heck I’m going, but finding small moments of beauty and music in it all.

Fiction 2

So here's the thing. I write and I write and I write. I draw doodles and I twirl noodles with my fork. I soak up all the existential angst and feel vaguely important. And then I wonder- now what? Days seem to have a pointlessness that all the blues in the world can't cure. Not Prince, not Louis Armstrong, not even Ella Fitzgerald. Speaking of which, I was reading Fitzgerald the other day and it reminded me of you. Not that Gatsby has anything to do with you- oh, who am I kidding? Everything reminds me of you. The birds flying in a V shape in the sky, the low guttural sound my cat makes when he stretches out, my pyjamas crumpled, as they come out from the washer. People making love on the other side of my cardboard thin wall, overpriced wines at lunches with friends, my graying boss. I was listening to Def Leppard the other day and I thought of you. Which doesn't even make sense because you hate Def Leppard- you don't even consider glam rock music.
I don't miss you. I don't wish for you to be sitting on the steps in front of my house when I return home from work one evening. I can imagine how you'd look- your cap tipped over an eye, a cigarette lounging by your mouth, and a faint aroma of smoke and coffee emanating from you. I'd see you and we'd both be very still for a second- there'd be a minute of awkwardness- but there wouldn't because you'd smile your lazy smile and come give me a one armed hug. Like it was the most natural thing in the world, like nothing had happened, like everything was fine.
But this wouldn't happen because I don't want it to. It's not that everything we shared was a lie, it's that I can't separate the truth from my fantastical creations. I cannot differentiate between a kiss and a dream, between a moan and a sigh, between ecstasy and madness, between comfort and numbness. I'm not saying that you're not a good person because you are. You really are. So I can't hate you- it was a mistake, all just a stupid mistake. But sometimes we can't brush our follies under the carpet, darling. We can't look the other way and pretend that we were distracted, we just can't. So we fall apart, you and I. I walk in circles while you sail over the edge of a cliff, burning like ice with your secret heat.

Rant #26380

So exams are done (wut wut!) but I still have a zillion things to do, and I apologize for sounding like a sorority girl (Oh Em Gee!) but this is what END OF TERM DOES TO ME. I'm aching to do some real writing, but that shall have to wait until the end of this week or possibly next year. But I have to say this:
Why? Why do people think it is okay to talk to you while you're in the washroom? And I don't mean washing your hands in a ladylike manner or adjusting the lapel of your blazer. No. I mean full on emptying your bladder (while trying to keep the audible trickling to a minimum) or taking a dump (really softly of course). Going to a public washroom is awkward enough, let alone going to an office washroom and running into colleagues. It makes for awkward eye shuffling and hasty retreats into cubicles. "Hi.." "Hi..Washroom party!" ".... yeah..."
No. This is not the place for conversation unless you're my best friend (and that's not okay either; my best friends just happen to be really gross people with no sense of boundaries.) or my mother ( likewise with the boundaries. "But why do I have to leave the room when you're changing? I have no wish to look at you. I'm reading, and this bed is comfy and I CARRIED YOU AROUND IN MY UTERUS YOUNG LADY." No mom, just no).
It is not okay to ask me when my last day of work is when I taking a leak. It is not okay to compliment my haircut when I have clearly been inside the washroom for longer than 3 minutes, and it is definitely not okay to discuss The Nutcracker with me over a plastic door with farts from adjoining cubicles for background music. Go away. And come back when I'm presentable, without any toilet paper in a 100 mile radius and preferably bring donuts.

brief rant post to say:
- i love when a favourite band covers a favourite obscure song- yay gorillaz covering crystallise by xx
- i really CANNOT stand ellie goulding. i don't know- her voice just drives me off the wall. way too reed thin and something for my liking.
- i get burnt out way too easily- 2 weeks of studying and i'm pretty much out. my body begins to fail, acid reflux (at 19! wtf), zombie like blank stare and aimless shuffling, sitting comatose in front of the computer at work. if i can make it past saturday, it'll be a miracle. no seriously, pray for this miracle.
- i really really love ray charles' voice- all scratchy and whiskey doused and just the right kinda hoarse. so evidently i'm even more of a jazz nut than i'd suspected.
- alopecia is a massive cunt. more on this later. excerpt from conversation this week:
2:55 PM  me:  it's hard enough to find a guy who's okay with a morbid ocd bitchlet's add bald into the mix

2:56 PM yaaaay :D

 trisha: Manfriend's best friend, C?

  lives in the us

2:57 PM recently fell hard for (and got dumped by) a bald tattooed bipolar ocd psycho-chick who wrote his initials under a park bridge for love but then blackmailed him emotionally shortly afterwards

  guys are just weird to figure out man

  they fall for pretty much anything, and you are high on the list of awesome

2:58 PM there will be somebody, and once he's proved he can take me in single combat he can have you

 me: heh

2:59 PM well if you spy a good looking mature murakami reading beatles loving guy who's also looking for an emotionally abusive relationship, you let me know, k?

- i Really want to go on a polyphasic sleep cycle. if i'm going to be as disorganized and hopeless with time management as i am, larger amounts of time would be helpful no? if you know anything about polyphasic or are interested, let me know.
- i also Really want to make a winter/ christmas mix, jazz mix, sountrack to a love story mix- if you folks don't know about the awesomeness that is 8tracks , go check it out asap. link leads to my profile but if you click on  the globe icon at the top of the page, it takes you to the home page where you can see tons of new mixes.
- i'm lacking a frenemy right now. i've had 2 so far. horribly unhealthy but SO much fun. like greasy chips- you know you shouldn't, but you do anyway and then indulge in self loathing.
- the house opposite the guesthouse i'm currently staying in was surrounded by cops and whatnot all of day before. they seized 20 kg of crack. 20 kg. of crack. have i mentioned that i love where i live? (no sarcasm)

back to books :(
In retrospect, Manfriend sounds like a cheap brand of condoms. or lube. but he's not, i assure you. he's a lovely man who recently gave me The Emperor of Maladies in ebook format. And we have plans to murder Trisha in cold blood and divide her money. Yes, we are excellent significant others.

Every single time I see a guy in Starbucks that I find cute, he turns out to be gay.
WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING TO ME?

Fiction

What do I think of when I think of you?

I think of the way you looked the last time I saw you. You had your face turned up to the sun, and the rays crept stealthily through your hair, making it a tangled mass of golden and brown. You glanced my way for a second and I searched your eyes for a glimmer of that searing feeling. It was a long second. I remember wanting to say something, wanting to reach out and place my hand on yours. Instead, I spent that day writing farewells in books with pink hearts on their covers, sobbing on shoulders, kissing the wall where we used to retreat to during recess- all of that. An all girls’ school carries within its walls a lot of love, unconditional support, bitchiness, judgement, and some ideas set in stone about how certain things ought to be.

Akriti and Sue are living in New York, did you know? They got married. They’re adopting a girl from Tamil Nadu.

I saw your name on a mutual friend’s list the other day. I bit my lip and fiddled with the mouse for a bit. You’re still beautiful. You still have a mole on your shoulder blade. You still cock your head to one side when you smile for the camera. You’re married. To someone called Aman.

I hope you’re happy. I hope you found what you were looking for. I hope-

Haul of the day: 'Big brother is watching you' T-shirt, cute vintage purse, slouchy red cardigan, turquoise hoodie. Dark chocolate crepe +coffee ice-cream for lunch. Pizza con-carne for dinner. Watching the fireworks at Nathan Philips and the official lighting of the Christmas tree. One of a crowd full of young fathers with little boys perched on their shoulders, and children waving glowsticks and light-sabers.  Toronto, I love you ♥

On the importance of 'lol'

So Eric and I were discussing pet peeves on Facebook chat:

• • Riddhi 

    • i dislike....
    • people who take 500 years to reply
    • people who reply with k
    • and people who say wassupp
• 4 minutes ago

  Eric 

  • lol
  • doesn't "lol" piss you off too
• 4 minutes ago

  Riddhi 

  • no. if we lost lol we'd be at a serious loss for things to say
• 4 minutes ago

  Eric

  • hahahahaha
• 4 minutes ago

  Riddhi 

  • typing hahahah isnt appropriate always
• 4 minutes ago

  Eric 

  • i so agree
• 4 minutes ago

  Riddhi 

  • i mean imagine having to type
  • *quiet chuckle*
    or *grinning but not laughing aloud*
    or *i didn't smile but that was witty*
    • 3 minutes ago

      Eric 

      • hahahahahahaha *that brought a quiet smirk to my face*

I yam what I yam

I have a shameful confession: I really love this movie.

I know. I know it's clichéd and stereotypical and predictable and over the top melodramatic and flawed in so many ways. I know, I really do. But. It's SO full of life, and colour, and laughter and makes me sob like a little baby/ menstruating angsty teenager high on cheap booze and one box too many of cookies on a bad day. It's pretty much the peak of masala. Shahrukh was my first ever human crush (he was preceded by Simba- yes that one from Lion King- and Johnny Quest). Ever since I was a child of about 9 growing up on The Brothers Grimm and watching him on Kuch Kuch Hota Hain, 'Rahul' captured my imagination and occupied my day-dreams. For some reason they always involved him riding on a bicycle beside the window of my car. I realize this makes no sense, but what can ya do?
Looking back, I'm having a eureka moment. Methinks my weakness for dimples can be traced back to SRK. Shame on you , SRK, for leading me to make questionable choices.
Anyway, stuff like this is the reason that I know I'll never really be cool. I'll never be one of those people sipping on a beer in a trippy kaftan and oversized glasses talking about my exclusive love for Spike Jonze films. Don't get me wrong- I like what would be called 'the right films' and I read the 'right books' and listen to the 'right music'. "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" is one of my favourite movies, I nurture a deep and abiding love for The Beatles, Pink Floyd and Iron & Wine, I loved Fahrenheit 451 and 1984. You get the picture.
But also,  I genuinely love Bollywood movies- they make me happy. I realize that my reality will never be like that; nor would I want it to. In real life, if a boy came up to me and started spewing dialogues while gazing deep into my eyes, I feel like I'd  either laugh hysterically or do an awkward eye-shuffle. But it's nice to watch.A good masala film or a Koffee with Karan episode can cure my blue moods, listening to Bahara fulfills my intense craving for mere desh ki dharti, and I firmly believe that a cure to 'most all minor ills is a good Bollywood dance number. Does this embarrass me? Kinda. Am I going to stay in the closet about this and make snarky comments about Bollywood movies? No.
The older I grow, the less I care about what people think. I like this growing up thing- it's nice to fit into your own skin, without apology. 

A very food driven blogpost

So Boozy Baked French Toast was sort've a fail. The Mc Donald's Hot mustard sauce saved it. Next time maybe 1 layer of bread, 2 cups milk, 3 eggs, 5 tablespoons of baileys and half teaspoon salt. Much prefer the Indian way of making French Toast for now.

Next recipe to try: Cake. Will make either Apple cake cuz of all the apples lying around at home. Or Chocolate Cake. In which case, this recipe may be of use: 

King Arthur's chocolate cake

First time, I'll be baking a cake. But the cooking bug's gotten into me. Smitten Kitchen and mum's nagging combined have driven me to the kitchen. So far made Huevos Rancheros (Mum liked, I didn't like the egg roll but LOVED the Salsa Fresca), Caramelized Shallots (nice), and Garlic Butter Roasted Mushrooms (VERY nice. Probably more lemon, less butter next time. ) Also scrambled eggs with goat cheese on toast yesterday got me craving for the french toast.

Anyway. Pictures maybe sometime I get over being a lazy git.

Oh! Also Murgir Makha Jhol which was phenomenal as always- recipe from Bengali Girl in the US who has never steered me wrong.

she's the kind of girl who stays home on saturday nights in flannel pajamas and her curly hair poking out of a crooked bun. she wears a loose grey t-shirt, her collarbones jut out at an awkward angle. she's the kind of girl who sips wine out of a colorful mug with concentric circles- blue and electric pink, and orange and yellow. the lights are dimmed, the faint sound of swearing crack-whores and hobos waft in through the window that she's left open just a crack- she's the kind of girl that feels stifled when the windows are shut, even in 0 degree weather. she's the kind of girl who listens to 'fast car' over and over again, and wishes that she had black skin, cool and polished, reminding one of pots and the earth and hidden corners in large houses- beside bookcases, and by the stairs.she's the kind of girl who chooses to forego dinner and then snacks on mars bars, making herself feel sick from the 7 reese's peanut butter cups she had earlier on in the day. she's the kind of girl who realizes when she's had enough, but can't seem to make herself stop. in a strange way, she enjoys the floating feeling she lives with permanently. she's the kind of girl  who falls in love with people she can't have. currently she has been falling in love with a close friend's ex. he is not at all handsome and quite arrogant, but when he smiles, his nose does this funny thing that makes it feel real. and he walked her home that one time they met. and when she asked him what his theme song would be, he thought for a long time and said romeo and juliet. he's the one who told her about 'fast car'- it's his favourite. so she sits, in the dim glow of the muted television, listening to 'fast car' on a loop and hazily dreaming.

The Fireman

Sitar music is on. Mingled with guitar, I think. Dunno how come, but I’m grateful for it. The guitar bits sound like the beginning of Spanish Caravan. Spanish guitar, I think. Just finished reading Fahrenheit 451. Didn’t feel like doing anything after that. Just lay still, curled up on my couch (it’s brown leather and I’ve draped my black winter coat over it, so that it forms a sort of pillow for me, which is where I can rest my head, curled into a 4). I’m in Starbucks again, of course. The Asian girl close by has a virulent pink playboy bunny cellphone. It strikes me as odd and a little jarring. I’ve licked the whipped cream off my pumpkin spice latte (no spilling this time, no sticky sweet warm mess), crunched up the usual butter tart. There was a boy next to me for a while there, some banter. He had a small-ish beard that leaned towards ginger. Seeing him, I understand what it means to be young looking. Behind that beard, is the face of a small gentle boy. Perhaps the kind who liked to watch pigeons. Or shoot them- what do I know after all. I sometimes wonder if books swallow me up. I was reading ‘The Night bookmobile’ last night. Ma and I were discussing the dark side of reading. She didn’t think there was one, and was surprised that I did. She looks at books as a type of escapism. I said that books could consume you if you weren’t careful. Set your standards so high that you became unable to accept an ordinary life. Mundane everyday things start to bore you. Or on the flipside, you could start to notice the beauty in the small things. Get caught up in observing and reflecting, instead of doing- leading to a sort’ve stasis.  I know that at times I’ve been so overwhelmed by the sheer brilliance of a piece of writing, that I found that I couldn’t write anymore.  Sometimes I’m afraid that I’m composing the perfect life in my head, setting impossibly high standards- and that’s the danger I guess of really good art. Books, and music, and film, and oh, everything! They can inflame you, inspire you, spur you to strive for the very best. But if you don’t succeed, if your life is less than exciting, if at last you examine your life and it simply does not compare- then what? Then you’d be left with this sense of futility and failure, and most intolerable of all- sheer monotony. What do you have to look forward to? Fear can be crippling, if you let it.

Here’s another thought- too much stimulus. Reading, listening, watching, always rushing, rushing, rushing- doesn't leave you the scope to think.

“Everyone must leave something behind when he dies, my grandfather said. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you’re there. It doesn’t matter what you do, he said, so long as you change something from the way ti was before you touched it into something that’s like you after you take your hands away. The difference between the man who just cuts lawns and a real gardener is in the touching. The lawn cutter might just as well not have been there at all; the gardener will be there a lifetime”

“Stuff your eyes with wonder’, he said, ‘live as if you’d drop dead in ten seconds. See the world. It’s more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories. Ask no guarantees, ask for no security, there never was such an animal. And if there were, it would be related to the great sloth which hangs upside down in a tree all day every day, sleeping its life away. To hell with that’, he said, ‘shake the tree and knock the great sloth down on his ass’”

-Granger, Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury.