Rohit's Realm - Yuppie Life
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December 12, 2002
I woke up at 5:45 a.m., because I had a bio final at 8 a.m. and I'm VERY, VERY paranoid about missing tests by sleeping through them. Anyway, it was a really cold morning today, so I decided when I left the house at 7 a.m. that I had time to get coffee. I didn't want to go all the way down to South Side, to get cheaper coffee, so I went to the Starbucks right by my apartment. Then I proceeded to pay $2.75 for a (really short) tall
glass of Holiday Peppermint Mocha. It was like 8 oz. big. As I walked out, bitter about having wasted so much money, I took a sip of the coffee, and realized it was all worth it.
August 16, 2005
Say hi to the new, improved Rohit: the one who wakes up at 6 a.m. and sleeps at 11 p.m., religiously; the one who wears expensive dress shirts and even more expensive dress shoes; the one who carries a briefcase and standard-issue IBM laptop; the one who rides to work on the MUNI with a countless number of other yuppies, white iPod earphones showing unabashedly; the one who spends his days in the airports and nights in corporate hotels. Yes, that's right ladies and gentleman: Say hi to Rohit—the newly inducted faceless businessman.
January 05, 2006
Two years ago I wrote a (relatively) optimistic post in which I introduced a new version of rohitsrealm.com and listed four resolutions that I promptly broke. While I don't have a new version of the web site to release (I'm still working on it!), I do have some resolutions I would like to break in the next few weeks, so I thought I might as well list them for the world to know in my inaugural post for 2006.
January 17, 2006
As I am sure is painfully obvious to anyone who has wasted precious minutes of his or her ostensibly futile life on this site, I don't pride myself on my sunny disposition or rosy outlook on life. Yet, the tag line for this web site remains Optimistic Cynicism,
which indubitably causes no small amount of confusion for readers unable to see the optimism for the cynicism. Allow me to present my day yesterday to perhaps clarify:
February 04, 2006
It started out as a joke. Just a couple of intoxicated people having a little fun. It wasn't supposed to be a big deal. No one was supposed to get hurt! When it stopped being a joke, and started being an obsession, I really couldn't tell you. Who ever can though? You don't plan on this kind of shit happening. It just sort of does. God! I wish it could have been different—for all of us, for everyone. I really do! I wish that fateful day in September never happened! Then, perhaps, we wouldn't be in this quagmire that we find ourselves in now. Things would have been different—no, better. I guess there's no point in regretting it now. Destiny had its way with us that warm autumn night, and nothing would ever be the same again. Either way, dear reader, I owe you an explanation. I owe you the truth!
August 01, 2006
Hindsight is always 20–20, or so they say. For me, it tends to be unduly expensive as well.
August 28, 2006
My week-long stint in the Sunshine State, or Florida as it is referred to by those not enamored by its rather dubious and suspect moniker, ended today as my flight left Miami International Airport a little over a day before Ernesto is scheduled to hammer south Florida, and landed at SFO several hours later. Stepping off the airplane into the mild and beautiful San Francisco evening, and for the first time in a long time, not feeling the intense moisture in the air like a punch in the stomach, I could not help but be happy to be returning to California. Not that my trip to Florida wasn't fun--it was--but there's only so much one can take of the tropics.
September 19, 2006
I was recently asked what, in retrospect, may possibly be the single most poignant question one can ask another human being: What in this life do you live for?
Put another way—a way that is more appropriate for an article on rohitsrealm.com—why is it that you have not yet killed yourself and put everyone out of their collective miseries?
December 14, 2006
Working in corporate America, and especially, in consulting, buzz words are a way of life. Annoying, irritating, nonsensical, preposterous, ridiculous; these are all adjectives that might be used to describe the so-called business speak. As far as I can tell, no one enters the business world using business speak; it's not nature, it's nurture. Like an insidious virus that may lay dormant for years after contraction, only to emerge virulently, and at the most inopportune time (i.e., a week before your wedding—oh wait, different virus), business speak is something that develops slowly, but rages potently once mature.
January 12, 2007
As a year in review, this entry might seem too little, too late, but considering this is only my second day of 2007 in the country, I thought something was nevertheless better than nothing. The past year for me was rather uneventful, in sharp contrast to 2005. (I suppose each year cannot be one of significant life changes.) I worked, I partied, and I traveled, but mostly I just worked. 2007 promises to be decidedly more eventful. I hope you all had a restful holiday season and best wishes in this new year. Check out my 2006 holiday card for a brief selection of memorable photographs from the past year.
February 26, 2007
Given many of the entries I have written over the past year, it may seem to many of you that I have turned into one of those wretched waxing-philosophic hipster assholes who has drank one too many cans of PBR and now, just will not shut the fuck up. All things considered, you would not be all that wrong. Who is this despicable new Rohit and what has happened to the incorrigible cynic that specialized in spewing venomous hatred upon ultimately irrelevant trivialities?
March 13, 2007
As my last few entries have likely made abundantly clear to all but the most nescient of readers, I am what some people might politely describe as a technophile.
(Actually, geek,
nerd,
asshole,
or idiot
are significantly more commonplace, but that is hardly the point.) What is likely less obvious based on my sanguine and happy-go-lucky web persona is that I am also about as much of a control freak—in life in general and in technology in particular—as one can be without also possessing a C.P.A. In the past couple years, these two rather dominant characteristics have become increasingly incompatible: my desire to possess the latest and greatest technology stands in stark conflict with my insatiable need to retain control over all my data. Yesterday, this long-standing cold war suddenly became hot over what most will consider a rather mundane commodity: e-mail.
April 23, 2007
As most of the wretched souls who have the distinct displeasure of knowing me in the abysmal exercise in futility known as real life
would probably agree, I am not someone who conjures up images of a person likely to experience stage fright. In fact, quite the opposite, I generally relish in the opportunity to publicly embarrass myself in front of multitudes of unforgiving people; my public performance of the infamous Engineering Dance
(which has tragically become part of my clubbing repertoire) in front of hundreds of incoming Berkeley freshman in 2003 and 2005 should be evidence enough. However, last week, in a very uncharacteristic moment, I experienced a severe bout of stage fright at the most inopportune time: while giving a urine sample for a work-mandated drug test.
May 14, 2007
As I am sure even the most inept of cretins could likely attest to based on a cursory glance of this website (or a moment's interaction—that's all they would be likely to get from me), I am not someone who could generally be considered kid-friendly.
I am neither nice nor cuddly, have little patience for incompetence or density, and in general, have absolutely no interest in interacting with individuals (children or otherwise) incapable of communicating at my desired level. Elitist, arrogant, caustic, I am; endearing, compassionate, approachable, I am decidedly not. Yet, despite my complete indisposition for the role, and even my well-publicized disdain, I continue to be the subject of inexplicable adulation by small children near and far. The latest episode (some might say attack) happened on the BART ride home last week, and needless to say, it was a battle for the history books: Cute, Innocent, and Precocious versus Bitter, Caustic, and Nihilistic. What follows is a play-by-play of my battle royale.
May 15, 2007
I realize that it is very uncharacteristic of me to post an entry twice in as many days (if I wrote about existential angst every day, I would have long ago killed myself), but a poignant article I read today demanded I once again wade into the dark abyss sometimes referred to as my mind and answer a rather unseemly question: when did I first become so cynical and nihilistic?
May 24, 2007
When I originally began this post, some 12 hours ago, sitting in an uncomfortable chair in Omaha's Eppley Airfield (it isn't even big enough to be considered an airport, I suppose), I had intended to discuss all the memorable events in my three day venture to what has to be the most bucolic and mind-numbingly nondescript city
in vast, abysmal expanse known as Middle America.
However, upon further reflection, I realize that besides arriving on a plane in which I was literally one of four people under 200 lbs. (the other three were the female flight attendants—enough said), nothing about this trip was worth remember beyond a week (or even a day)—that is, until my flight from Denver to San Francisco, when I met what in another time and place might have very well been my soulmate.
May 31, 2007
Though not too long ago I wrote a facetious entry about vigilante justice with respect to the Zodiac Killer, as it turns out, that entry was extremely prescient in ways that are anything but farcical: that's right, I have found my own personal Zodiac that I must dedicate my life to finding, and am willing to risk just about anything to achieve success. And while my much-touted romantic quest to ruin my life has yielded negligible results in the past two years, this particular quest promises to not only ruin my life, but possibly end it altogether.
June 04, 2007
Several years ago, when I wrote what would later become my definitive manifesto on the ultimate futility of seeking idyllic romances and (what half wits, morons, and imbeciles everywhere refer to as) true love,
I was lambasted—both publicly and privately—by many a self-professed romantic,
often times with vitriol that generally should only be reserved for transients and the homeless menace. Though there were no explicit death threats, it certainly seemed as if though hordes of viciously star-crossed lovers, chomping at the bit and rabidly foaming at the mouth (perhaps all those roses they bought one another were giving them allergies?), were preparing their metaphorical nooses for a lynching of the heartless, soulless ingrate that dared publicly derided their most sacred of commandments. And yet, as Audrey pointed out last week, almost 3 years after I published my treatise, the Economist, one of the foremost publications in the world, has essentially validated the position I have long held on the Realm. Revenge is so sweet.
June 11, 2007
Despite my well-deserved reputation as an incorrigible cynic, my online popularity as both a suicidal nihilist and worthless yuppie asshole, and my recently epitomizing post-adolescent existential angst, as most of you have likely understood, I am often guilty of shameful hypocrisy that threatens to destroy the very pillars upon which I have created my (awesome) online persona. One particularly egregious instance of said insincerity is with respect to my position on small children; specifically, all the while publishing derisive articles condemning children (and especially, babies) as fundamentally inhuman, and questioning the validity of associating with such troglodytes, I have volunteered as a teacher at San Francisco elementary schools with the Junior Achievement program. For shame!
June 18, 2007
Rohit, Halloween 2005
In my never-ending bid to be more like Seth Cohen of The O.C. fame, I decided to compensate for a childhood (regrettably) spent without reading nary a single comic book, by entitling my latest entry after an extraterrestrial symbiont in Spider-Man, that, when bonded with a human host, exaggerates certain characteristics of the host, and most importantly, causes the host to begin wearing eyeliner and dressing in all black. However, considering that I have never really needed an excuse to wear eyeliner or dress in all black (see nearby picture), I might as well have entitled this entry The Languorous Lethargy.
Perhaps this might explain how three months ago, I found myself sitting in a dimly lit room, with weeks of Wall Street Journals and months of Economists by my bedside, lying in a pile of both clean and dirty laundry, mindlessly watching my fifth hour of The O.C. while eating pizza from a week ago—on a weeknight. Truly, I had been consumed by the Black Venom—of laziness.
June 25, 2007
In the past two months, there has been much ado—both online and off—about my apparent successes, and more realistically, resounding failures recently with the fair sex. And yet, despite finding (and losing) not one, but two soulmates in as many months, and countless blown opportunities at various social functions, my most catastrophic failures have come not as a result of my consummate inability to close the proverbial deal (though that certainly goes without saying), but rather, my inexplicable ineffectualness in detecting the (often overt) advances of said fair sex. An anecdote from my trip this weekend to Irvine (hereafter affectionately known only as the 'vine
) should be instructive.
July 05, 2007
As I (bluntly) pointed out last month, attempting social commentary about the differences between men and women inevitably puts one on a dangerous one-way road towards unbridled idiocy, and as such, when considering delving into this most thorny realm, every effort should be expended to avoid producing yet another clichéd manifestation of one's own sexual frustrations; see, e.g., Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus, or any movie billed as a romantic comedy.
However, given both my penchant for unchecked hypocrisy and the fact that most people would likely already characterize the Realm as a clichéd manifestation of my sexual frustrations (and those of others, as well—it ain't easy for a nerd out there), I feel fairly comfortable about once again diving (head first) into the brier bush. Today's question to be answered: when is it acceptable to roll with five dudes to a social function?
July 08, 2007
It seemed only fitting that having practiced abstinence for so long that I lose my YouTube-linking virginity with a trailer for our house-cooling
party, scheduled for next Saturday, July 14, 2007. Those who have seen Apocalypse Now will be especially entertained, I imagine. And if you're going to be in the area (i.e., San Francisco Bay Area) and did not get the invite, drop me a line. One of two things could have happened: either we simply forgot you, or we intentionally did not invite you. You owe it to yourself to find out which one it was.
July 12, 2007
You know what they say about virginity, right? You can only lose it once, and once you have, there's no way of getting it back. On that note, here's the second trailer for our upcoming house-cooling
party, following on the heels of the critically acclaimed first one. Bigger, longer, and uncut, this video borrows heavily from the series finale of the landmark television program, The O.C.. That's how we do it in The I.S.. Enjoy!
July 13, 2007
Below is the third (and final) trailer in the seminal The End's Not Near, It's Here
series, entitled Good Phil Hunting.
The party is tomorrow, starting at 9 p.m. Enjoy!
July 24, 2007
Jon's recent articles about the impact we have with our lives, and subsequent discussions, as well as a rather involved conversation tonight about existentialism with my sister (who considers herself a fatalist) reminded me of a philosophical thought question I have been posing recently to friends at bars: Would you rather (1) live a long and materially successful life, having achieved all that you set out to, but perish in anonymity with nary an accomplishment worthy of the history books; or (2) live a miserable, wanton life filled with sorrow and failure, but produce a great work (of literature, art, whatever) that posthumously guarantees you a place in the pantheon of human thought alongside the great thinkers of yesteryear?
August 20, 2007
As some of you may know, last Friday, August 17, 2007, was my last day in San Francisco, Calif., where I have lived since graduating from college. I tendered my resignation effective that day, and in September, will be off to graduate school in Chicago, Ill. I could wax on philosophic (as I am prone to do), but in the end, I think the update I sent to family and friends last week surmises my thoughts fairly well. Stay tuned for more information in the coming weeks.
September 04, 2007
Since I was a very young boy, my parents have always warned me about the dangers of tempting Fate, and skeptic that I am, I have generally always looked upon such warnings with a mixture of bemusement and annoyance. Bah! What nonsense! Thus, it should be no surprise that last week, in a bout of characteristic irreverance, I did exactly what my parents have long warned me against: I tempted Fate most egregiously. Writing in reference to my classic 2003 rant about bureaucrat ineptitude in my newly self-published book, I observed that I doubt I have ever experienced a more frustrating level of bureaucratic incompetence in my life [than what was experienced with the College of L&S], though that is not for lack of trying.
Lo and behold, my parents were right. The honor that was rightly held for more than four years by the esteemed liberal arts school at my alma mater has now passed to an even more worthy entity (or should I say, adversary): Cingular®—wait, I mean the new AT&T®. Raising the Bar™—of red tape, idiocy, and obstructionism.
September 05, 2007
Nearly 20 years ago, in October of 1987, I moved to California from the dirty confines of Baltimore, MD; tomorrow, having spent more than 80 percent of my (necessarily futile) life in the Golden State, I leave for hitherto uncharted territory: Chicago, IL. Though I should probably be feeling sad, or nostalgic, or at least something, strangely, I am not. I guess when I left San Francisco last month, I was already mentally prepared to leave California; the past three weeks loafing in Irvine at my parents' house have barely registered at all.
October 31, 2010
In my last entry describing a trip to the Bay Area, I promised you, dear readers, to very soon update you on my whereabouts that notably involved both a new time zone and a new apartment. That was almost three weeks ago, a tidy sum of time that almost no one would consider to mean soon,
let alone very soon.
But this is the sort of inconsistency and distressing failure for which I (and this site) have long been known. Better late than never.
August 29, 2011
For all the mind-numbing technical gibberish I routinely spout on this most wretched of sites, there remains one technical
topic that I have rarely—if ever—breached: video games. Considering it is a subject so closely aligned in the popular psyche with technology and computer geekery, that is as strange an omission as it is a confounding one. What could possible have motivated such a silence for over nine years of this blog's existence?
Could it be shame? But, as a rather unapologetic (computer) nerd who as recently as 2007 refused to outsource my e-mail, what possible shame could there be in admitting I like video games? None, as it were. My consummate failures are, after all, well known to this readership—to reveal, for instance, that I was a video game addict wouldn't do any more harm than, say, this entry, already has to my beleaguered (online) reputation.
So, what's the deal then? Simple: I don't write about video games because I neither play nor am interested in video games. (I know: blasphemy!) In fact, of mainstream
societal indulgences today, I can't think of one (besides maybe television) in which I have less interest than gaming.
