Author: neethi

Two concert tickets: $300

Dinner consisting of dorm food with one of your closest friends: $10

One concert T-shirt to be shared with your brother: $30

An evening spent at MSG watching your younger brother awkwardly “dance” to the sounds of one of the greatest rappers alive while simultaneously getting showered by alcohol and enveloped in a cloud of smoke: Priceless

Two weeks ago my brother and I made our way to New York City to see Jay-Z in concert. To prepare for the blessed event I listened to the “Blueprint 3” album non-stop for two weeks and taught my brother how to properly shake his romper to the beat (unfortunately this proved to be a useless endeavor). This was going to be my first concert ever (Live Earth doesn’t count!) and I couldn’t wait. Luckily for me the expectations were for once far exceeded.

Not only was Jay-Z live was almost as good as the recorded tracks, the various surprise guests really made the evening special. After Jay’s first set Young Jeezy came out along with NICKI MINAJ, DRAKE, AKON, and Lil Wayne (who somehow managed to stall his jail sentence just long enough tot perform at MSG!). Though I wasn’t able to stay for the whole concert (overbearing parents… what can you do?!), the highlight for the entire evening had to be Jay-Z’s performance  of Empire State of Mind- the entire arena was literally rapping/singing along with him word for word (A close second would be when President Obama’s “dirt off your shoulder speech” appeared on the large screens on the stage)!

Although Jay’ part of the concert was great, the opening act Trey Songz left a lot to be desired. Every song was literally the same (all were some variation on the themes of women, sex, and more sex) and his act dragged on for almost an hour! It was so bad that I found people watching more appealing than listening to him. However, Jay-Z definitely lived up to the hype as he performed all of his new and old hits. I definitely came away from that concert with a sense that he truly is “the best rapper alive” and I recommmend that you all check him out on his BP3 tour.

Burton and Depp. Almodovar and Cruz. Spielberg and Hanks. These dynamic director-actor combinations have created some of the most memorable cinematic moments over the past twenty years. The newest pairing to join the group is Scorsese and DiCaprio. Much like the director-actor couplings that reigned before them, this relationship is completely mutualistic. Scorsese is responsible for taking DiCaprio from his status of a titanic teen heartthrob to a legitimate actor, while DiCaprio helped make Scorsese relevant in the 21^st century. However, though their partnership has created such film masterpieces as Gangs of New York, The Departed, and The Aviator, their newest enterprise, Shutter Island, falls short of living up to the Scorsese-DiCaprio name.

Set in post World War II America, Shutter Island is a psychological thriller about U.S Marshall Teddy Daniels and his investigation of an asylum for the criminally insane. Though the movie is visually stunning and rich in detail, the plot of the story is uncharacteristically unoriginal. Part Sixth Sense and part Secret Window, Shutter Island falls victim to a predictable narrative- (SPOILER ALERT) the main character ends up becoming a part of the madness that he is trying to escape from/solve.

To be honest, I left the theater confused. Why were people clapping as the credits rolled? Were they also, like me, mesmerized by the sweeping scenery or did they truly think the plot was original? I couldn’t help but think that this expression of enthusiasm was another example of the American public’s quick acceptance of superficiality rather than substance. Shutter Island is truly undeserving of the Scorsese-DiCaprio endorsement and it is an unfortunate hiccup in their cannon of work. 

Hope everyone is enjoying their spring break and please leave your comments below 🙂

This past week I discovered The Script and boy was I grateful for it. There is nothing that can make a crappy week better than a bunch of cute and talented Irish boys. However though they are aesthetically appealing, The Script produce some of the most heartfelt and lyrically intriguing music that I have heard in a while. One of my favorite songs by The Script has to be “Live Like We’re Dying.” Most of you have probably heard the Kris Allen version, but let me tell you, The Script’s version is so much better! The song is truly pop rock at it’s finest and has a great message to go along with it (think “Seasons of Love” from Rent). After listening to this song a half a dozen times, I began to think about my approach to each and every day. Maybe it was the lyrical repetition of the number of seconds within the day (86, 400 to be exact), but I felt as if I wasn’t living each and every day to it’s fullest. Thus, I began to make a list- a bucket list.

So here it is folks, a list of the five things I would like to do before I pass on out of this life (in no particular order):

1. Hail and ride a cab in New York City
2. Visit Egypt, sneak into one of the pyramids, and find the “Book of the Dead” a la “The Mummy.”
3. Go skydiving (I know it’s cliché, but it’s still pretty kickass)
4. Spend an evening karaoke-ing (I’m not quite sure if that’s a word) in a bar (a la 500 days of summer).
5. Go to the Superbowl (hopefully when the Patriots are playing-woot go PATS!)

I realize that there this endeavor is a bit morbid, but it’s still a great way to spend a study break/ a few minutes of free time. I definitely think it’s important for everyone to reevaluate and reflect every once in a while. Let me know what you think in the comments below and have a great week 🙂

The answer is supposedly three minutes. One hundred eighty seconds of salutations and small talk leads up to that final moment.  Are they the one?  You eye your partner, searching for a clue of sorts. Clutching onto your pencil and card you are eventually a forced to make a decision. Is number 21 a friend or something more? The three minutes are up and you are on to the next one.

This past Friday, my friends and I decided to participate in a charity speed dating event. To be honest, I wasn’t exactly expecting much. Wearing a pair of old jeans and a simple t-shirt, I looked more prepared to down a box of Dibs than I was to meet my soul mate. But, according to my roommate’s previous experiences with speed dating, I didn’t see any reason to dress up for the occasion. “There were hardly any boys. You’ll probably end up eating food and making Valentine’s Day cards. That’s what happened to me,” she had said. So, one can imagine my (as well as my friends) horror when we walked into the dating dungeon that was the YK lounge. There were boys everywhere and nothing to eat! Immediately I cursed my roommate, and proceeded to apologize profusely to my friends who, like me, were in less than glamorous outfits. Though the evening had started off in panic,  I slowly started having fun and had a decent time. No, I didn’t find my person or anything like that, but I did run into quite an array of people, both nice and interesting (one guy told my friend that he wanted to get a tattoo of his penis…. ON HIS PENIS!!!!).

Besides the people, I think the whole speed dating experience was definitely an intriguing look at what romance has become in today’s society. Unfortunately, gone are the days where feelings are organically fostered and nurtured. Our lives have seemingly transformed from a Jane Austen novel (at least that’s how I imagine my life in the 1800s) into a technologically charged and “instant gratification” filled existence. It’s a little sad that we don’t have more than three minutes (or the seconds it takes for eHarmony’s web page to load) to devout to our love lives. In the spirit of JT and the BEP, where is the romance?

What’s in a name? Contrary to Shakespeare, apparently a lot. As my friends and I watched the Super bowl yesterday (the Saints won- woot!), the topic of ethnic names came up. Why do some Asians (Indians, Chinese, Japanese, etc.) change their traditional names to western alternatives? According to some of my friends it is because ethnic names can greatly affect first impressions and relationships.

 Though at first I disagreed with this argument, one of my friends shared her personal experience with this topic. Her legal name is Bhargavi, but since coming to college she often introduces herself as Gavi. Though it seems like a trivial change, she argued that when she introduced herself to others as “Gavi” rather than “Bhargavi” she found that people were more at ease with her and there was more of a personal connection that was established. She continued to say that when she introduced herself as “Bhargavi” people would seem detached and uneasy.

 Phonetic familiarity, apparently, is key to successfully navigating through American society. That’s arguably why the governor of Louisiana (who is Indian) goes by Bobby Jindal (rather than his legal name Piyush Jindal) or why many Chinese immigrants have Christian as well as traditional names. According to another friend, research has shown that there are certain sounds that create a sense of comfort. For example, names that end in the sound “e” usually have kind and comforting connotations (ex. sweetie, cookie… jelly…Clearly I am hungry!).

 After talking with my friends I found it extremely disheartening that many Asian immigrants felt that they had to change their names in order to be accepted into our society. Aren’t we the melting pot of the world, the land of social acceptance? As I reflected on my own personal experiences I realized that there have been times where my name (especially my last name) has caused uncomfortable social situations. One moment that stuck out to me was in high school when one of my teachers was calling roll. He would address other students properly by their last name, but when he came to my last name he just exclaimed “the person with the whole alphabet in their last name.” Though everyone thought it was funny, I found it extremely offensive. It seems (both now and then) that there is this inherent apprehension regarding the pronunciation of Asian names.

However, in my own experiences, I have found this reaction is not seen with eastern European names (ex. Russian), which are often times as confusing and complicated as any other Asian name. Why is there this double standard? I personally feel that all names should be treated in an equal and unbiased fashion. I also feel that if you can pronounce Tchaikovsky you sure as hell can say Srinivasan.

 Hope this serves as some food for thought for everyone and please post any comments you have below. Have a great week and remember, spring break is only 3 weeks away 🙂

Oh the joys of a sale! There is nothing that makes me happier than the sight of red tags and discount signs. I love the rush of scouring through racks and racks of clothing while simultaneously utilizing my knowledge of algebra (who knew those percent problems would be useful past the seventh grade?!). It’s that feeling of beating the “Man” at his own game that warms my heart. Just the idea of finding eight-dollar jeans and five-dollar sweaters makes all the lines and chaos seem worth it. However, my love for bargain hunting was tested this past week when I braved the cold and made my way down State Street to Urban Outfitters.

For those of you who were unaware of last week’s proceedings, Urban Outfitters had a season ending sale where sale items were an additional 50% and on Friday, regularly priced items were 10% off (with a valid student ID). As one can imagine, there was quite a buzz on campus. Every recessionista/recessionistor (the gender variations of this noun are still up for debate… as is the spelling) made their pilgrimage to their holy land in hopes of getting their hands on the latest in homeless chic.

As I neared the store I prepared myself mentally and physically for what I was about to endure. I quickly made sure my credit card and cell phone were easily accessible in the event of a shopping catastrophe. Clutching my bag close to my body I swiftly moved through the endless lines and clusters of people. I eventually made my way to the sale section, which was painfully bare. As I scanned the hangers that were still holding clothes, I noticed a gorgeous orange and blue racer back tank hanging in the corner. I rushed over as quickly as I could and snatched it up. I excitedly checked the price tag ($10!) and then the size. To my utter dismay it was a large, but I tried to convince myself that it would be perfect for the days on which I was bloated/housing a burger from Wendy’s. But alas, I couldn’t help but notice that most everyone who was waiting in line with me had the same tank top as I did. Did they have my size in their possession? It didn’t matter. After spending a few minutes in the dressing room grabbing at excess cloth in various places, I couldn’t keep convincing myself. The top didn’t fit. I had failed.

I left the dressing room empty handed and began walking towards the exit sign when the shopping gods above decided to give little ol’ me another chance. Awkwardly hanging behind a support beam was a collection of orange and blew racer back tank tops in seemingly different sizes. Hallelujah! I deftly squeezed myself between a fellow shopper, the support beam, and the rack in hopes of picking up my one true desire. However, I couldn’t reach the shirt- the other girl was deliberately standing in front of what was rightfully mine. As an avid shopper I used my previous shopping experience to wiggle my way to success. I began inching closer and closer towards her, all the while trying to be polite and excusing myself of my clothing inspired craziness. She didn’t budge. I then had to just go for it and make my move. As I reached over her to grab the top, she immediately intercepted my hand with her overgrown nail, scratched me, and proceeded to snatch the shirt away. “Sorry,” she said as she placed the top on a pile of other clothes and walked away. What a bitch. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. As I walked out of the store I was no longer consumed by the thrill of shopping, but by the large mark on my skin. The lines and chaos were no longer worth it.