To start with, The Telegraph carried this piece about the recent incident that had a blogger lift the entire contents of my post and paste it word for word into her post.
As regular readers of this blog do know, the blog that did plagiarise was since shut down. And this article should serve a primary purpose of making bloggers aware that they must make a hue and cry when they do find out they are being plagiarised, rather than sit back and mourn by themselves. The blogging community is, as I found to my warm delight, ever supportive to the injured party.
And shameless canvassing happening now, with the Indiblogger Blog of the Month on the theme of social causes being open for votes now. All ye who read India Helps and wish us well, please, please, please do hop across and vote for us all….. God knows we need the visibility and the goodwill.
And Suki babe, thanks for this. I loved it. And I sat on it. Just saw it on MM’s blog, and remembered I had been so ungracious in not acknowledging it…
I’m really going to have to think hard about whom I pass this onto. There are too many blogs I love to narrow it down to a couple.
Much lazing around happened, this being the last weekend before school reopens. Yes, when one becomes a parent, one welcomes school reopening with as much fervour as the child attempts to shut eyes and pretend that that horrible day will never ever dawn. Saturday morning went in a morass of grocery shopping that included unending lines of hassled customers and computers hung until you wanted to hang either yourself or the check out staff (Star Bazaar IT team, if you’re reading this, you have to really get your systems checked…Saturday afternoon, 1.30 pm, three computers on the check out line hung and customers climbing on each others heads in agony of waiting until the kids picking up water bottles and school bags grew beards and found their voices cracking).
And then there was the very important fact of the Transformer Robo Cop and a couple of tShirts which had been selected by said wearer after entire due diligence exercise conducted on all the contents of said hypermarket, therefore abandoning the trolley at checkout would have resulted in three footer climbing up on me and pummelling me manically in public situation. Not, as you would agree, a situation that allows for dignity and comportment and all such like any lady would like to be known for. I found myself therefore in the happy situation of checking out the contents of the trolleys of the other shoppers in line, as they checked out the progress being made by various hassled folks calling themselves manager types who were being yelled for as the systems decided to have a simultaneously coffee break.
The trolley behind us. Skinny sharp girl, with pinched face and black tee and skinnies. If you’re reading this, you really didnt have to ram your trolley into the back of my knees at every hint that the line was about to start moving, I might just track you down and slap you with the bill for my joint replacement surgery. Trolley full of Diet Cokes, exotic cheeses and ready to cook packets. Plus an assortment of breads. Single girl one deduced. Maybe I should start a detective agency of my own, would pick up more work than the first line of business given that we seem to be in the midst of a situation where clients want you to draw out your blood with bicycle pumps, and offer it to them to drink, served on silver salvers, in cocktail glasses, garnished with sprigs of parsley and lime and such like. Young couple in front, constantly going back and forth to pick up more stuff and put back stuff they really didnt think they needed, leading to much stamping on the toe situations. The trolley piled mile high with plastic jars, mugs, kitchen essentials and such like. I smiled indulgently at the prospect that these two were setting up home together and kitting out the rented accommodation. I could just see them three years down the line with the spouse standing vacant outside the store with a squawling brat yelling at the wife rushing through her shopping to speed it up or take the tyke in. Stud standing at next check out line clad in vest and track pants was checked out surreptiously, both muscle quota and contents of shopping trolley which was lots of Red Bull, some bread, Coca Cola, assorted veggies and some random packets of muesli and such like. I wouldnt last a day in such a house. Too much healthy eating is not good for my health.
I also did my routine maintenance works. The bleach. The dye. The nails cut, shaped and painted. And the careful examination of the skin going quickly over to the side of cured leather and mourning woefully for days of smooth as silk cheeks long gone. No parlour visits happened. One hasnt visited one for years. Except of course for the hair cuts. One lives on routine maintenance work and hopes the skin and hair lasts one decently till one is lowered into the grave. Or burned at the pyre. Hell, thats another post. I have no clue what I want done with my corpse. Maybe cadaver donation would be my best bet.
Friends were met with and chatted with. Incredible amounts of food ingested. A facebook fraud dealt with and deleted. Catching up on sleep done. Zillion calls made to friends one never gets a chance to catch up with through the week. My latest resolution, to call one friend a day. The build up to the week end is too tiring for my poor little brain to handle.
So what was your weekend like?