I almost forgot what I look like as a curly girl.

Maybe it's time to give the straightener a rest for a while.

(Also almost forgotten: how much I want to BE Karen O.)

1. I LOVE IT. My mom said that she initially chose a different one but put it back because she knew I'd like this one better.
2. Goodbye Anna Sui, hello J'Adore.
3. My mom gave me pretty much all of her colorful beaded necklaces since she doesn't wear them anymore.

My parents were in town this weekend and we did the crazy touristy holiday (wandering around Rockefeller Center, seeing Mamma Mia, shopping, etc.). It was a lot of fun, but now they're gone and I need to take a nap because I forgot to put my phone on silent last night, and we were awoken three times to my Flavor Flav text message ringtone going off when people messaged me to wish me merry Christmas.

(The ringtone goes, "FLAVOR FLAV! YEAH BOYEEEE, pick up the phone!" In case you were wondering.)

Happy holidays to all of you! I hope your weekends have been wonderful.

PET PEEVE: People who use the word "karma" in the wrong context (I just saw a stupid Yoplait commercial where the two girls are talking about how good the yogurt is and they used it. IT'S JUST YOGURT. GET OVER IT.) It's someone's religion, smarty pants. Learn what the word means before using it.

ACQUISITION: One blazer, one comfy pair of sweatpants, three pairs of Calvin Klein bikinis, two hot bras, and one gorgeous teal tote bag, all on sale for cheeeeeap.

ANNOYANCE: Losing three hours at home when my flight out of New York was delayed on Thursday, which subsequently led to:

DISAPPOINTMENT: The fact that Thanksgiving weekend is now over, and that I now miss my parents more than I thought possible (especially when I first left home).

EXCITEMENT: I figured out some awesome gifts to give to people for minimal money. They're so much more personal than storebought gifts and my overworked bank account gets a little vacation. I win both ways.

WISH: To be a child again, and to not have anything to worry about except naptime or whether it's going to rain so I can't play outside.

TRIUMPH: I got my mother hooked on Arrested Development this weekend. Too bad it's about eight months too late.

TOO SOON: While window shopping with my mother I happened to point out the kind of engagement ring that I'd like (what? It's just a silly ring, at least I don't have the wedding planned out). Later, I made a crack about having to edit my wedding slideshow/video myself since no one else in our family knows how to do it. Apparently she didn't get the irony in the remark because now she's concerned that since (as far as she knows) all I do is work and sleep, I'm never going to meet anyone. I wisely kept my mouth shut about all past escapades.

SEEN: Stranger than Fiction: good. The Departed: FUCKING AWESOME.

WANT: A cute dress for the holiday party, a nice pair of flats I can wear every day, and enough cash to touch up my now pathetic highlights. My roots are about 4 inches long. I'm not exaggerating.

OVERALL: November is ending much better than it started -- but I hope I'm not saying that too soon.

Lianna (who is staying with me until she finds a room for her 3 to 4-month stint in New York) and I are going on the SPECIAL K CHALLENGE together. I have no idea whether it will work or not, but it's only 2 weeks, and it's probably one of the easiest diets that we'll ever find out there.

Lianna's only doing it for a week (DAMN HER AND HER HIGH METABOLISM) and I am going to do it for the full 2, possibly 3 or 4 if it seems to be working well enough.

My only concern -- is when the website says "drink beverages as normal" -- does that include alcohol as well? (Probably not. But I'll ignore what I choose to ignore.)

And at the very least, it's a good way to avoid REAL cooking for a couple of weeks -- and, as Muse said yesterday, it's a great way to save money as well. Anything for cheap eats these days.

I measured my height on a whim this afternoon, because I felt super super tall in my heels yesterday (I know that's what's supposed to happen, but it was unusually so last night).

I've been telling everyone that I'm 5'4" for the past couple of years but today I discovered that I'm actually almost 5'6". In really high heels -- the highest pair I have is about 3.5" -- that puts me at around 5'9".

How does this happen? I thought I was supposed to stop growing after puberty. Not that I'm complaining, but I actually kind of liked thinking I was short. For some reason it always seemed more girly and feminine to me. I always associated compact with cute with charming.

Well, now I know. I guess that narrows down my selection of guys that much more.

(Also, no wonder I towered over Sloan in my heels. He was only about 5'8".)

Tuesday morning I skipped class, woke up at 8 AM, took 2 subway lines and walked 5 crosstown blocks.
But it was all worth it, because I got my hair highlighted for the first time, at one of the best salons in New York -- and for only $20.



( best deal in new york city! )

SO! What do you guys think? The stylist said that next time we could "pump it up a notch" and I'm actually kind of excited for that. And seriously, the early morning wake up was SO worth it. I'm definitely doing this again in the near future.

I have model hair now. It's layered and voluminous and I have the cool swept-over bangs look.

I told various people today that I feel like I should be wearing skimpy clothes and tons of makeup and be sprawled out on a carpet next to a tiger.

Unfortunately, my camera died before I could take pictures, and I left the charger back in New York. But, I know how to style it exactly like the lady did at the salon, so in a week you all will be able to check out my new look (which actually isn't all that different, I just like making a big deal out of it. Hahaha.)

This is the first haircut I've had where I haven't left the salon crying.

I am very satisfied.

At Paulash's request, and in order to prove one of my previous posts incorrect, here are the pictures from when I modelled in the fall. I directed a lot of you to the website when it first went up, but now that it's been taken down to be redone for spring (and I'm not one of the featured faces anymore) these are going in here for posterity. The whole day was SO much fun, even though it was below freezing outside, and we had to do my hair and makeup in the middle of a crowded coffee shop, and I couldn't get myself to stop giggling and be pouty for the life of me.


Taken in Washington Square Park. This was from the first leg of the shoot -- I was still wearing my own clothes and had not perfected the blank stare. And no, I don't really heart dim sum this much. But this is probably my favorite of the lot.

( My one chance to strut my stuff. )

Also, I just gutted parts of my screenplay. Now I understand why it's notoriously hard to rewrite -- when you become so attached to something and have to change it around completely, it's like sacrificing a part of you. The script is so much better now than it was before, but having gone that long without changing anything...it was difficult to get in there and start fresh.

But, I got a male desi actor! Now, the only one left to cast is the lead.

When I was 16, I went to the bank with my mother to open up something -- it might have been a CD or a checking account -- anyway, that's not important. It was a Saturday morning, and my mom had forcibly dragged me out of bed because I needed to be present in order to open the account. My hair was long, frizzy and uncontrolled; I was wearing loose, baggy clothing and no trace of makeup whatsoever. I was a tomboy.

The clerk was a loud, boistrous woman, and she did her best to make conversation during our visit. In the middle of the paperwork, she looked at me, then turned to my mother.

"You have a very handsome son," she said. "He looks just like Michael Jackson."

My mom and I looked at each other. "Excuse me?" my mom asked.

"Your son here. He looks just like Michael Jackson."

My cheeks started to flush and my eyes started to well up with tears. I smiled, trying to hold back how embarrassed and upset I was.

"Um...this is my daughter, Roopa," said my mom uncomfortably.

The clerk started laughing. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry," she said, unaware of the tears now beginning to roll visibly down my face. "But you know -- that's really quite a compliment. Michael Jackson was really cute when he was younger."

We finished the paperwork and drove home. I locked myself in my room and cried for three hours.

I think that's the root of my problem. No matter how many times I hear the opposite, at the back of my mind I'm always worried that somehow, I look like a faded male pop star. In some way, that clerk's ignorant comment has stuck with me more than any compliment I've ever received. This is why I can never think that I'm pretty, in any way; whenever I start to feel good about myself, her words enter my mind, and manage to force me into believing that her mistake completely defines what I look like to the world.

They say that you don't really believe the positive things you hear about yourself -- it's the negative stuff that sticks around. I've been trying to make it so that it's the opposite for me. But it just doesn't seem to be working.

I don't understand why ALL the other women I've ever met and/or befriended in my life have to be so beautiful, smart and all-around amazing.

This sucks. I'm jealous of you all. I wish I could be more like every single one of you.

Ughhhhh. Just gorged myself on half of a stack of orange flavored chocolate. I'm going to the gym tonight but I still feel so guilty.

I hope this doesn't get back to the point where I begin to feel crappy about my body no matter what. I thought getting down to a size 6 would be enough to convince me otherwise, but I guess I was wrong.

I need to strengthen my willpower. Desperately.

And the stupid manager at the movie theater wouldn't give me a Veer-Zaara poster, even though I literally begged him for one. I'm going to steal one if he still doesn't relent on Friday. And I have Priya as my getaway vehicle.

Things driving me forward right now: Wednesday morning (SO EXCITED) and Diwali in Westchester/seeing V-Z this weekend.

EVERYTHING hurts.

But I'm working out again, regularly. I've been busting my ass on my dad's Nordic Track skier daily. I've heard that if I keep this up for 15-20 minutes every day, I should make it down to a size 6 extremely easily -- long before the end of August.

Incredibly excited. It's been my dream to be a 6 for the longest time. I just hope my boobs don't shrink. ::grins cheekily:: Plus I told myself I wouldn't buy any new clothes before I reached my goal. Some motivation, huh?

The nostalgia for my teenage years has disappeared and am now throrughly thrilled to be a twentysomething.

I want to go to Paris for a week.

Been watching "Sex and the City" on TBS; now I want to rent the DVDs and watch the real thing. I've actually been kind of disappointed, but maybe that's just because I'm only starting to watch after years of hype. Some of the writing is excellent (my hot TA used to be on the auxiliary writing staff for the show, apparently), but the show itself just seems kind of uneven.

I LOVE "WILL & GRACE". And I have a deep, entrenched need to buy Seasons 1 and 2 on DVD. Soon.

my collarbones are disappearing.

why has everything i love decided to run away from me?

i feel so goddamn ugly right now.

why is it that when things are starting to go well in terms of emotion for me, i go to the bathroom and look in the mirror and want to tear my hair out of my head and smash the glass in and get plastic surgery on a million different parts of my body so i can finally be satisfied with how i look??

i wish that my hair would defrizz and my skin would clear up and i could magically lose 10 pounds overnight and that my clothes would hang better on me and that i could look like the twenty-five hundred other gorgeous girls on this campus and that i could finally feel worthy of my boyfriend for a change. for once i would like to believe him not only when he tells me that he thinks i'm beautiful, because i do, but i want that certainty to linger when he's not around to reassure me. i want to so fucking badly but something inside me won't let me and that makes me so horrifically upset, because it used to be that i thought everything would be ok once i had the comfort and security of knowing that someone truly loves me for who i am.

but now i have that, and it's probably the most important thing in the world to me, and yet i still can't get myself to not give a shit about my physical appearance...and it makes me wonder what kind of person i am. i feel so selfish and so inconsiderate and like such a bitch when i think about things like this, because i know they shouldn't really matter at all. but i can't help feeling so intimidated by my friends and acquaintances, who get offered movie deals in india, who get asked to model, who have about 200 "admirers" seeking their attention at all times, who always seem to have perfect hair, perfect skin, perfect features, even when they've just woken up or are incredibly ill, who always seem to look so great in everything that they wear, who get stared at on the street. they embody all aspects of physical perfection to me. and they constantly remind me of what i don't have.

i have a headache. i hate losing at solitaire. and i need to sleep. i guess this body image crisis is all part of being a girl. i don't know.

i'm 19 now. have been for 2.5 days-ish. doesn't feel any different, but it wasn't like i expected it would.

haven't been doing much lately, just reading a lot of shakespeare and listening to a lot of music. stratford was ok, the plays were good for the most part and i did get some alcohol in me...i even managed to install aim on the hotel computer, talk to sloan for an hour, then uninstall the thing and it was like nothing had ever happened. ::mischeivous grin:: i hope the people at the inn didn't mind...

now for a week of not talking to my love, who is currently in florida. i'll survive, maybe barely, but he'll be back soon. and hopefully we can work out a way for him to visit me...i miss him so much and i need to see him before i go crazy.

i went to curves today. i'm so excited about the prospect of finally getting my body where it needs to be. it was a lot of fun, actually, i think going every day will be a wonderful way to alleviate my boredom.

::"i'm so busy writing my new shit that i can't remember the words to my old shit...da da da, white boy pain, that's it, that's it!"::

i've fallen into a slump again.

i measured myself yesterday and discovered that i've gone down 1/2 an inch in my waist. but while i was basking in THAT glow, another measurement revealed that i've either stayed the same or actually gone up in my hips, i can't decide which. i'm thrilled about my waist getting smaller, but my damn hips...i've inherited them from both sides of my family...my mom has them and my grandmother on my dad's side did too. i wish they'd go away, disappear, something. and it seems like however much i try to take care of myself, eat better, things like that, they end up expanding exponentially.

i hate looking like me sometimes.

and what's worse is, all my clothes are shrinking when i put them in for wash, so that makes me feel SO much better about myself.